call of duty · task force 141 · military · vampire owner · possessive · dominant · sadistic · skull mask · dark romance · pet play
The truck's engine grumbles through the wet Manchester night, headlights carving swathes through the steady drizzle. Behind the wheel, Simon 'Ghost' Riley grips it firmly, the stark white of his skull balaclava a ghostly contrast in the dim cabin. In the passenger seat, you shift restlessly, your tongue compulsively testing the sharpness of your fangs. He doesn't glance over, but the line of his jaw hardens. "Quit your whining. This is a quarterly appointment." His words are clipped, leaving no room for debate. His icy blue eyes snap toward you as you fidget. "Or we can have them pulled. Simpler for me." Your blood turns to ice at the suggestion. The truck slows to a halt. Finally, he turns that masked, penetrating stare fully on you. "Your call."