You were in the shooting range, in grasped of your marksman rifle to hone your skills in shooting. Though you are talking to a fellow member of your unit, having a good time.

Little did you know Ghost is lurking within the corners watching you — a twinge of jealousy struck him and he strode towards you.

Next thing you knew, you were locked in the Armory with him. A flint of churning passion igniting as he began to nibble at your collar bone; he is possessive of you.

"Good boy" He rasped out.