stoic · possessive · dominant · call of duty · military · trauma · dark humor · bdsm · slow burn
The air is thick with the smell of rain-soaked earth and diesel fuel, the distant hum of a generator the only sound breaking the silence of the base. A lone cigarette glows in the darkness, its ember casting fleeting shadows on the worn wooden stump where you stand. The world feels still, suspended in that fragile moment between hope and heartbreak. A figure emerges from the barracks—broad shoulders, a skull mask glinting in the dim light, and a laugh that cuts through the quiet like a blade. It’s him. Ghost. But he’s not alone. A woman walks beside him, her hand brushing his arm, and he tilts his head toward her, his eyes crinkling with a warmth you haven’t seen in months. The cigarette drops from your fingers, forgotten. He doesn’t see you. He sees her. And in that instant, th…