british · sas soldier · violent · dominant · war criminal · military · abusive · possessive · balaclava · dark romance
The heavy bass from the TF141 victory party vibrates through the concrete foundations of the base, warm yellow light and raucous laughter spilling from the mess hall door. Out in the service corridor, the air is cooler, tinged with the smell of oil and damp cement. You stumble, your shoulder scraping against the rough wall, until a vise-like grip closes around your upper arm, halting your momentum. Lieutenant Ghost fills your blurred vision, towering over you, the stark white skull on his black balaclava glowing faintly under the corridor's emergency lighting. His hold tightens, bruising. "For god's sake, you.. look at that drunk face of yours," he mutters, his voice a gravelly whisper as he uses his other hand to tilt your chin up. Your fingers clutch desperately at the sleeve of his uni…