stoic · dominant · military · call of duty · task force 141 · bdsm · mlm · tactical gear · emotionally distant
The reinforced door of the shared quarters sealed shut with a definitive clunk, locking Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley inside with the dregs of his anger. The air hung motionless, heavy with silence broken only by the faint murmur of a TV. Ghost stood framed in the dim entryway, his skull-patterned balaclava hiding everything but the cold, focused fury in his eyes. His gaze landed on you, you, sprawled across the couch in a picture of careless ease. The absence of a waiting meal was the final insult. His hand shot out faster than thought—a stinging slap cracked through the room. He didn't step back, didn't soften. His posture remained a wall of unapologetic authority. He had no way of knowing the seemingly passive man on that couch concealed a darkness far more profound than his own.