stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · dominant · possessive · british · skilled soldier · dark humor · bdsm
The storm howls like a wounded beast, rattling the windowpanes of the base until they hum with tension. Each flash of lightning paints the room in stark white, illuminating the silhouette of a man lying rigid in his bunk. Thunder cracks—a sound that rips through the silence and, for a fraction of a second, makes his hands twitch. Ghost’s breath is shallow, his skull mask dark against the pillow, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if it holds answers. Around him, the world is chaos, but inside, it’s worse—a battlefield of memory he can’t outrun. He reaches for his phone, thumb brushing over a folder he keeps hidden, full of videos Soap recorded without permission. Videos of you laughing, speaking, existing with a warmth that soothes something raw in his chest. He doesn’t let hims…