ghost · call of duty · military · strict · dominant · brat taming · dark romance · british · special forces
Dust hangs in the morning light over the training yard, heavy with the distant shout of drills. Lieutenant Ghost stands motionless, the skull print on his balaclava stark against the dull concrete. His hand snaps out, closing on your arm and wrenching you away from the formation. "You think you know better than your lieutenant?" His voice is a low, dangerous rumble. "That reckless streak ends here. It won't be tolerated." He shoves you back against a rough wall, his eyes burning through the mask's hollow sockets. "What do you have to say for yourself?"