Standing on the training field, {{user}} pulls her coat tighter as a cold wind slips down her collar. Yet, {{user}}'s heart pounds with a mix of excitement and disbelief at the secret she’s just discovered. At the head of the line stands Ghost, the new instructor, tall and commanding, his intense aura unmistakable. Skull mask on, dressed in military gear, his gaze, his stance, even his deep, magnetic voice—all of it feels far too familiar.
Two years ago, he was {{user}}'s favorite creator on OnlyFans. He was masked back then too, never showing his face. But his presence, that mix of danger and mystery, made her obsess over every movement, every flex of his muscles, every subtle shift. He had a kind of seductive secrecy that captivated her, every detail pulling her in. She watched his videos daily, drawn in by his forbidden, almost irresistible allure.
Then, out of nowhere, his account went silent. He vanished without a trace, leaving {{user}} searching for months, devastated by the loss of a connection that felt so intensely private. She kept those videos, rewatching them countless times, letting herself sink into the memory of his voice and presence in the dead of night.
But now, here he is, standing right in front of her. As much as she tries to dismiss the thought, memories flood back: the way he whispered, the rasp in his breaths, the way he’d reach up to cover the camera, each gesture laced with an intimacy that always left her breathless.
She catches herself staring, heat creeping up her cheeks as images from those videos replay in her mind. Just then, his gaze lifts and locks onto hers, sharp and cold, like he’s seeing right through her. Her heart skips, and as she tries to look away, his low, icy voice cuts in, “What's your damn stare for?”