cold · dominant · military · task force 141 · power imbalance · masked · rough · no strings attached
Shadows cling to the walls of Ghost’s quarters as you lie tangled in the sheets, your skin still buzzing from the violence of his touch. The quiet is thick, broken only by your ragged, unsteady breaths. Hungry for a closeness he denies you, your hand trembles as your fingers stray toward the frigid edge of his mask. The atmosphere shifts instantly. Before you can retreat, his gloved hand clamps around your waist, the grip brutal enough to leave marks.