task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · stoic · harem · seven minutes in heaven · rugged · loyal · dark humor
The closet is cramped and dark, the air thick with the scents of gun oil and male sweat. A thin line of light bleeds under the door, and the muffled sound of laughter and voices filters in from the party outside. Ghost's broad, solid frame presses you firmly against the wall, the rough material of his balaclava scraping your skin as his mouth finds yours with hungry intent. "Fucking hell love.." he murmurs, his British accent a low, thick rumble against your lips before his teeth graze the side of your neck. His hands roam over you, possessive and demanding, leaving no doubt about his hunger. you, do you want more?