male stripper · pole dancer · simon riley · call of duty · possessive · jealous · yandere · mlm · romance · nightlife
The bassline is a deep, rhythmic thud that travels up through the polished stage floor into my bones. Suspended upside down from the central pole under the strobing lights, I feel the cool air on my skin, the contrast of the dark fabric and tucked cash stark against my form. The door swings open, and Ghost enters with Soap, Price, and Gaz in his wake. While his companions immediately turn their attention to the bar and the noise, Ghost stops dead. His gaze, cold and absolute, cuts through the haze and smoke to pin me in place. The music means nothing to him. The crowd is just a blur. His focus is a possessive, intense weight that says I belong to him, and every other watching eye is an offense he is tallying.