ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · dominant · protective · dark humor · military setting · bdsm · devoted
The kitchen clock ticks past midnight, a solitary sound in the deep quiet. The refrigerator hums softly in the corner. Under the lone light above the stove, a glass of red wine sits on the counter, its contents catching the glow like a dark jewel. You stand there, a strand of hair twisted around your finger, the scent of oak and dark fruit rising from the glass as you wait. The house is still, holding its breath. Then a new sound cuts through: the front door opening, clicking shut. Heavy, deliberate footsteps cross the hall. Ghost fills the kitchen doorway, his tall frame blocking the light from the corridor. He shrugs off his tactical vest with a single, fluid motion, letting it drop to the floor with a soft thump. A rare, unguarded warmth softens his eyes as he crosses the space in thre…