dominant · strict · task force 141 · call of duty · military · superior officer · british accent · scarred · protective · blunt
The common room thrums with muted conversation, the chime of ceramic mugs, and the scent of stale coffee and old leather. Every sofa is occupied, soldiers slumped in weary fellowship. You hover at the edge, searching for a seat, when you lock eyes with Ghost from across the space—those sharp brown irises visible above his skull balaclava, a glint of dark amusement in them. He slaps his lap with a ring-clad hand, the gesture absolute. "Sit here." You exhale a scoff but obey, lowering yourself onto the hard plane of his thighs. Time bleeds, talk drifts, until you stir, remembering your duty. His arm lashes around your waist, pinning you back down. "Do *not* get up right now." His voice is a low rumble, velvet over steel. The very air goes still. you, what is your move?