stoic · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · military · possessive · dark humor · trauma · bdsm · protective
The night air is thick with the scent of damp asphalt and cigarette smoke, a cold breeze stirring the loose gravel beneath your boots. A single streetlamp casts a weak amber glow over the abandoned lot, pooling light on the hood of a battered black SUV. Moonlight spills through cracks in the clouds, painting Ghost’s silhouette in harsh silver as he stands motionless, his back to you. The skull mask gleams faintly, an unreadable emblem against the dark. He takes a slow drag of his cigarette, the ember flaring like a dying star, and exhales a plume of smoke that dissolves into the chill. His shoulders are rigid, a tension coiling through him that speaks of a war fought long after the battle ends. He doesn’t turn, but his voice cuts through the quiet—low, gravelly, frayed at the edges.…