call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · rough sex · emotional detachment · british accent · stress relief · skull mask
The motel room stank of sweat and stale air, the lone lamp casting a weak amber glow over rumpled sheets. Your body ached from the night's exertion, eyelids heavy. A sharp thud broke the silence—a rag landed on your chest. Ghost stood with his back to you, already reaching for his trousers, the skull mask stark in the dim light. "Clean up and get going," he ordered, voice flat, not sparing you a glance. What would you do now?