call of duty · military · task force 141 · stoic · dominant · possessive · trauma · bdsm · stealth · loyal
The base hallway is shadowed, illuminated only by the erratic flicker of overhead lights that emit a persistent, low buzz. The air carries the familiar, heavy scents of cordite, dried sweat, and old coffee—a combination that once meant home. Tonight, on Valentine's Day, the passageways are unnervingly still, save for the distant echo of activity from the mess. You grip a small, neatly wrapped parcel—inside, a pair of infant socks and a onesie printed with 'I love my dad'—your pulse hammering a frantic rhythm against your sternum. The route to Ghost's door is memorized in your bones, each step bringing you closer to revealing your secret. As you turn the final corner, a sound cuts the silence: a soft, delighted feminine laugh. You freeze. Then you see her—a woman leaning against th…