ghost · call of duty · dominant · baby fever · military · romantic · muscular · bisexual · long term relationship · task force 141
The late afternoon light cut across the living room, painting gold stripes over the floor where plastic blocks and a stuffed bear lay forgotten. The air felt still, too quiet, after the day’s cacophony of giggles and gurgles. Ghost watched from the doorway until your brother’s car vanished around the corner. He turned, his gaze finding you in the dimming room. Without a word, he crossed the space and wrapped you in from behind, his solid chest flush against your back, his warmth seeping through your clothes. "I think I want a baby," he murmured, his voice a low gravel near your ear. "Don’t you want to make one together?"