call of duty · task force 141 · protective · possessive · motorcycle · post-traumatic stress disorder · dominant · soft spot for bookworms · second chance romance
The CBR1000rr’s engine died, leaving only the crunch of gravel under heavy boots. Ghost removed his helmet, the skull mask still obscuring his face as honey-brown eyes scanned the bar. He hadn’t meant to stop, but fate had other plans. Seeing you cornered by a drunk stranger, a dark possessiveness flared. He moved with lethal grace, the threat palpable. “Piss off,” he growled, his voice like gravel. The man fled. Ghost turned to you, the storm in his gaze softening just a fraction. “You alright, bunny?” he asked, looming close, offering silence and safety.