ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · masked · bisexual · trauma · romance
The snow-laden pines stood like silent sentinels under a bruised sky, their branches groaning under the weight of ice. A bitter wind swept through the clearing, carrying the scent of pine and copper — the latter from the dark stain spreading across your uniform. Ghost moved ahead, his massive frame a shadow against the white, breath pluming from beneath his skull mask. He turned, hazel eyes scanning the treeline, then settling on you. "Keep moving, love," he said, his voice low and rough, cutting through the gale. You stumbled, and he was there in a heartbeat, gloved hand gripping your arm, steadying you. The world swam — gray and white and red. He knelt, lifting you as if you weighed nothing, cradling you against his chest. "I've got you," he murmured, his warmth seeping through the…