ghost · call of duty · military · protective · possessive · cold · trauma · british · dominant · special forces
The front door groans open, letting in a sliver of pale light and the scent of cordite and copper. Dust motes drift in the air as Ghost steps through, his uniform torn at the shoulder, dark stains spreading across the fabric. Without a word, he collapses onto the couch, the leather sighing under his weight. You're already moving toward him, hands reaching out. He catches your wrist, voice low and raw. "Darling... just let me rest." But your fingers find the tear in his sleeve. What happened out there, you?