ghost cabin 1

It was cold outside, you and Ghost had just arrived at a safe house due to incorrect information on the mission.

You and Ghost walk inside to see trash everywhere, there was no couch and the heater in the cabin wasn’t working. It was freezing, you and ghost both were shivering.

You stumble across one bedroom, with one full sized bed. Ghost stares at you unsure of what to do next, “I assume we can share it.” Ghost grumbles out as he looks at you for further instructions.

"We might die of hypothermia before Laswell gets here." Ghost said bluntly, his muscular form starting to shake slightly from the cold.

He stomped over to the small fireplace and began rummaging through a cupboard nearby, finally pulling out a few logs and some old newspapers. With some difficulty, he managed to get the fire going, producing thin strips of smoke that filled the room.

"This'll keep us from freezing to death," he grunted, squatting in front of the fire to warm himself, his exposed chest glistening with sweat.

Without taking his eyes off the flames, he shot you a challenging glance, "But don't expect me to do all the work around here. You're just as much of a help as I am."

Ghost snorted at your response, clearly unimpressed. "Fine," he said through clenched teeth, obvious irritation in his voice.

"Start with putting those wet clothes on my bed to dry by the fire," he ordered curtly, gesturing towards the small bedroom they'd found earlier. "And after that," he continued, pausing for a moment to consider what else you could do, "I suppose you could try scrubbing some of this filth up."

As if to emphasize his words, he kicked an empty beer can across the floor, sending it skidding under the shabby couch in the corner of the room.

Without waiting for your response, Ghost turned his back on you and returned to tending the fire, his shoulders tensing beneath his muscular arms as he worked to keep it blazing.

Ghost continued to tend the fire, his back turned towards you as he clearly avoided any eye contact or interaction. He could feel your gaze on him but refused to acknowledge it, instead focusing intently on keeping the flames alive.

The tension in the room was palpable, with both of you trying desperately to avoid conversing with each other. As you begin searching for cleaning supplies, Ghost reluctantly offers some help by rummaging through a nearby cupboard himself before producing a broken broom and an old bucket half-filled with dirty water.

"Here," he grunted, tossing them towards you without looking. They land with loud thuds next to your feet before he turns back to the fireplace once again.

The silence in the room wasn't unbearable for Ghost, as he found solace in the soothing crackle of the fire and the rhythmic swooshing sound of the broom against the floor. However, he could tell that it was weighing heavily on you, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

Despite this, he remained steadfast in his frigid exterior, not willing to let his guard down around someone who was still relatively new to their elite unit. His muscles tensed as he watched you move about the room, recognizing your determination and focus despite the uncomfortable circumstances.

As the sweat from his body began to dry in the heat of the fire, Ghost slowly started to relax into the worn-out couch cushions next to him, arms folded across his broad chest. It didn't matter how long it took for Laswell to show up or what kind of food they would have - as long as he had somewhere warm and dry to sleep that night, he would consider themselves lucky.

Ghost's mouth twitched slightly at your response, and he couldn't help but smile despite himself. He leaned back into the couch cushions and stretched out his long legs, revealing a small glimpse of skin between his apartment-clad boxers and his combat boots.

"Fair enough," he conceded, watching as you continued to sweep and mop with renewed vigor. "But it doesn't excuse your sloppiness. There's a way to clean without being so careless."

His voice held a note of challenge, almost as if he were testing your skills against his own. And despite the biting cold that still lingered in the room, there was a tangible warmth emanating from him now - not from the fire, but from someplace deeper within himself.

"Oh yeah?" Ghost challenged, his smirk widening. He stood up from the couch and stalked over to where you were cleaning, still clad in nothing but your sports bra and boyshorts.

Before you knew it, he had taken the broom out of your hands and was sweeping the floor himself, his muscled arms moving with amazing efficiency as he pushed the dirty water towards the bucket you'd previously been using.

"This isn't as hard as it looks," he grunted under his breath, his back turned towards you again. It was clear that he was enjoying this little power play they had going on - testing your mettle and seeing how far you would go to prove yourself worthy of being on his team.

"Watch and learn, then," Ghost shot back, not bothering to turn around as he continued sweeping the floor with a newfound intensity. His hands moved swiftly over the worn wooden boards, leaving behind swirls of dust and dirt that were quickly being gathered up by your makeshift broom.

He could feel your eyes on him, boring into his back, and it only served to fuel his determination even more. This was his way of showing you who was in charge, of reminding you that being on Task Force 141 meant following orders – even if those orders came from someone as surly and unapproachable as himself.

Ghost couldn't help but chuckle darkly at your response. He turned around to face you now, leaning casually against the handle of the broom as he appraised you with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"You got a problem, Rookie?" he drawled, grin widening into a menacing smirk. Despite his best efforts to keep his emotions in check, there was an undeniable spark in his eyes – one that made him seem more like the predator he was than the prey he usually hunted down on the battlefield.

Even though the close quarters of the safe house were making him feel trapped, he couldn't deny the thrill he got from goading you like this. He loved pushing people to their limits, testing their resolve under fire...and it seemed like you weren't going down without a fight.

As you stand there, silently fuming behind your suddenly clenched fists, Ghost can't help but take notice of the tension coursing through your body. It's not often that someone gives as good as they get with him – usually, they crumble under the pressure or try to appease him.

"Yeah," he finally said after a long moment of silence, "you got a problem with me." His voice was low and resonant, vibrating along your spine like a well-placed punch.

"Then what are you waiting for?" He challenged, giving you one last dark look before turning back around to continue sweeping up the mess.

Ghost couldn't help but snort derisively at that. "Rookie?" he repeats, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think you're a rookie? Haven't seen anything yet." He chuckles darkly to himself, the sound managing to make the small hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

Ghost looked at you, his face a mask of surprise and something that could have been admiration. He didn't expect this kind of backtalk from a rookie, let alone someone who looked as harmless as you did.

He took a step closer, looming over you with his imposing six-foot-five frame. "You really think you can take me on?" he challenged softly, a sinister glint in his eye. "I like a challenge."

Ghost laughed softly, shaking his head. "Oh, I don't mean to scare you," he said with a dark chuckle. "I just want to see what you're really made of."

He moved closer still, until the heat from his body was almost palpable against your skin. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, all you could see was the calculated coldness in his gaze. It sent shivers down your spine, but instead of backing away, you found yourself leaning in closer.

Ghost watched you for a moment longer before letting out a low, rumbling laugh. "I get it," he said, stepping back with an amused grin on his face. "You're not just any rookie, are you?"

He couldn't help but be impressed by your defiance and strength – qualities he usually only saw in his fellow agents or the targets they pursued. It was rare to come across someone who could push back against him like this and come out on top.

"You're definitely going to keep things interesting around here," he said with a nod of approval.

Ghost held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Fine, fine," he said with a chuckle. "Just trying to lighten the mood around here."

He turned back to the pile of trash, picking up a half-empty water bottle and tossing it into the nearby recycling bin. "So what brings a girl like you to join up with us?" he asked casually, back turned to hide the glint of curiosity in his eyes.

Ghost shrugged, not looking particularly threatening. "Just an observation," he said dismissively. "You don't seem like the type to join up with a bunch of hardened agents and soldiers."

"More like the bookish type," Ghost replied with a shrug. "Or someone who likes to keep their feet firmly planted on solid ground." He chuckled softly, clearly amused by your clear discomfort with his teasing.

He picked up another piece of trash, this time a crumpled candy wrapper, and continued sweeping around you. "I think it takes a certain kind of person to handle what we do," he mused, more to himself than to you. "Not everyone can survive in our world."

Ghost gave you a long look, assessing you. "You're brave," he said finally, surprising even himself with the compliment. "Not everyone would have the guts to walk away from their old life and start anew like this."

He couldn't help but be intrigued by your reasons for joining the team – the draw of danger, the need for adventure, and the calling of a higher purpose. It was clear that you were more than just another recruit; you had a fire in your belly that matched his own.

Ghost shrugged, his eyes glinting beneath the dim light of the room. "The money's good," he said with a rough chuckle. "But to be honest, I like the thrill of the hunt. Working for 141, I get to take down enemies of the state and put my skills to good use."

He tossed the broom aside and started fiddling with something at his belt – probably a knife or weapon of some sort. "You learned how to fight in the military?" he asked casually, not looking at you directly.

Ghost's shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. "I had my fair share of scrapes growing up," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "Learned to survive on the streets." He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, seeing your curiosity piqued.

"It comes in handy here," he added, running his thumb along the blade of the knife before slipping it back into its sheath with a soft click. "You never know what kind of trouble we might run into."

His gaze flickered downwards, taking in the soft curve of your neck, the line of your jaw, the hint of vulnerability in your eyes. A wave of protectiveness washed over him, unexpected and somewhat alarming. What was going on between them?

"Ghost takes a deep breath, pushing aside his sudden attraction to focus on the matter at hand." "Now that the place is semi-livable, what do you suggest we do next?"

Ghost chuckled under his breath at your comment, watching you quietly for a few moments. The sight of you shivering, nearly half-dressed in the chilly room, tugged at his heartstrings more than he wanted to admit. Still, he knew better than to push the issue.

"Suit yourself," he said simply, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "Just don't wear yourself out." His words were light but there was a hint of genuine concern in his tone.

He watched as you moved around the room, trying to keep warm while tidying up. Something about the simple act of sweeping and picking up trash seemed to soothe your nerves, and it was strangely comforting to watch.

Ghost grinned, his expression barely visible under the shadow of his balaclava. "Just making an observation," he said casually, leaning back against the wall. "You seem pretty focused on getting this place spic and span."

As you continued cleaning, he found himself drawn to your movements – economic yet efficient, never wasting a gesture or a step. There was something hypnotic about it, like watching a well-oiled machine in action.

Ghost nodded slowly, his eyes flicking back and forth between your face and the movement of your body. "That must've been tough," he murmured, surprising himself with how much sympathy he felt for you.

He knew what it was like to come from a rough background, to live on the edge and fight for survival. But even still, the thought of growing up in that kind of chaos and filth made his stomach turn.

As you continued your work, he found himself admiring your resilience more and more. You may have come from a dirty past, but you were determined to make something of yourself – and that was damn impressive.

His gaze lingered on your curves for just one moment too long before snapping back to his own thoughts. He cleared his throat and turned away, trying to focus on anything other than the image of you, broom in hand, fighting against the ghosts of your past.

Ghost chuckled softly, feeling himself gradually thaw in the presence of your lighthearted spirit. "Well," he said with a playful grin, "I don't know about that. But I'll admit, you've got a knack for it."

He watched as you continued cleaning, the fire now blazing brightly behind you. Despite the mess around them, there was an undeniable sense of order to your movements – like watching a dance performed by someone who'd forgotten they weren't alone.

As much as Ghost hated to admit it, he found himself drawn to you - not just because of your bravado or your skill set but because there was something about you that felt... familiar. Comforting, even.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned against the wall once again, content to watch and wait until you were ready to share more of yourself with him.

Ghost shrugged, his shoulder brushing against the rough wall behind him. "Too long," he said with a faint smile. "I joined when I was seventeen, fresh out of secondary school. Guess I never really found anything else I was good at."

There was an underlying current of pride in his voice, but there was also a hint of sadness – a recognition that even though he'd found purpose and camaraderie in the military, it had come at a cost. A price he wasn't quite sure how much longer he could afford to pay.

Ghost chuckled at your teasing tone. "Yeah, something like that," he said with an amused glint in his eye. "I forget you foreigner types have different names for everything."

Despite the teasing, there was a note of warmth in his voice – a sense of camaraderie that he couldn't help but feel with you, even in this strange and unfamiliar environment. It was as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who understood what it meant to fight, to struggle, and to never give up.

Ghost snorted softly, shaking his head slowly. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he said with a hint of mischief in his voice. "And don't worry about Soap - none of us can understand what he's saying half the time."

Ghost let out a loud laugh, the sound echoing through the small space. "You have no idea," he said, shaking his head. "I guess it's like trying to explain football to someone who's never played before. It just doesn't make sense."

He paused for a moment, glancing over at you as you continued working. There was something about the way you moved, the ease with which you carried yourself despite the filth and cold that intrigued him. There was strength there, certainly - but also vulnerability and an underlying sense of determination that reminded him of someone he once knew.

Ghost listened carefully to your words, feeling a sudden surge of empathy that he hadn't expected. For all the toughness and bravado he usually projected, there were still parts of him that were soft – tender points that could be pricked if he wasn't careful.

He stepped closer to you, trying to offer what little warmth he could. "I understand," he said softly, his tone gentle. "Sometimes you've gotta do what you've gotta do to survive."

There was so much he wanted to say to you - so many things that he felt he couldn't articulate properly. After all these years, it was still hard to trust anyone, let alone a total stranger. But for whatever reason, you made him want to open up, to share a part of himself that he'd long since locked away.

"Hey," he said after a moment, nudging you with his elbow. "Why don't you go warm up by the fire? You've done enough cleaning for now."

Ghost watched you closely, noting the slight tensing of your muscles and the unyielding set of your jaw. He knew how hard it could be to let go of those old habits, to stop fighting against something that had become such a massive part of who you were.

But he also knew that sometimes, self-care was just as important as cleanliness. And right now, you needed to take care of yourself if you ever hoped to get through this ordeal unscathed.

Moving quickly but gently, Ghost placed a hand on your shoulder and guided you towards the fireplace. "Come on," he urged softly, his voice low and soothing. "You've earned a break."

"Feel better?" Ghost asked softly, watching as you curled up closer to the fire. Despite the cold, he couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment sitting next to you, feeling the warmth radiating off your body.

Ghost shrugged nonchalantly. "It happens," he said simply, his gaze steady on the flames in front of them. "We all have things we need to work on. But it's important to remember that self-care isn't selfish – it's necessary. We can't help anyone else unless we first take care of ourselves."

There was a quiet intensity to his voice that made you look at him more closely. It was as though he spoke from years of experience, of hard lessons learned and even harder choices made. But despite it all, there was still a sense of hopefulness there, as if he believed that anything was possible if one only had the courage to try.

Ghost huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Don't go spreading that around," he said mock-seriously. "They might think I've gone soft."

But there was an undeniable twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, a hint of playfulness that you couldn't help but find endearing. For all his tough-guy exterior, there was still a part of him that liked to have a little fun, to let his guard down every now and again.

Ghost watched as you shifted closer to him, his heartbeat picking up slightly in anticipation of what might happen next. But he kept his expression carefully neutral, not wanting topush too hard too fast.

"So," he said after a moment, clearing his throat. "Where're you from, rookie? In the US?"

Ghost couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate the view, feeling a strange mix of lust and attraction that caught him off guard. But he quickly schooled his features into something more neutral, not wanting to make things awkward between them.

"Oh, I see," he said softly, nodding as if in understanding. "So Nevada is where you're from? Small-town girl, huh?" He raised an eyebrow playfully. "Intriguing."

"Oh really?" Ghost grinned slyly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Now that sounds like an interesting story. Care to share it with me?"

His voice was low and full of temptation, as though daring you to reveal something vulnerable about yourself. But despite the challenge in his tone, there was also a note of genuine curiosity – he truly wanted to know more about you, the person behind the tomboyish exterior.

Ghost let out a soft chuckle. "Well, I imagine that was quite the scandal for such a small town," he said with a hint of amusement. "Did it damage your reputation much?"

As he spoke, his eyes trailed up and down your body slowly, taking in every inch of you. It was a bold move, but he couldn't help it – something about being this close to you, sharing these intimate moments together, seemed to bring out his more carnal side. And from the way your cheeks reddened and your heartbeat quickened at his gaze, it seemed like you weren't immune to it either.

Ghost snorted derisively. "Typical," he muttered, his expression souring at the memory of other guys like the pastor's son. "Sounds like a real prince charming."

Ghost's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh, really?" he said, arching an eyebrow playfully. "And what did you tell him?"

There was a sudden heat in his gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were alone in the world, sharing this secret space together. It was intoxicating – or maybe that was just his nearness, the way his body seemed to pulsate with barely leashed energy.

Ghost chuckled, shaking his head. "Well played," he said admiringly. "You certainly know how to handle those small-town scandals." His gaze flickered downward, trailing over your body again before settling on your eyes.

Ghost grunted quietly. "It's a long story," he said quietly. "And not one I particularly want to tell right now."

He gave you an appraising glance, taking in your features once more. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something between them, some unspoken connection that drew him closer to you. But for now, he decided to let it lie; maybe if they spent more time together, those walls would start to crumble.

Feeling the heat of the fire against his chest, Ghost found himself growing more and more distracted by the sight of you. His gaze roamed up and down your body, taking in every little detail - the way your hair fell around your face, the gentle sway of your hips as you adjusted yourself to get comfortable.

But even as he let his eyes wander freely, he couldn't shake the sense that he was treading on dangerous ground here. There was an undercurrent of tension between them, something that spoke of unexplored territories and hidden desires. And while part of him wanted nothing more than to dive headfirst into those depths, another part was afraid - afraid of what they might find, afraid of where it might lead.

As their eyes met, time seemed to stand still. In that moment, all that mattered was the electric charge that zipped through the air between them. Ghost could feel his breath catch in his throat as he took in your every movement, the slight shiver of anticipation that ran down his spine.

He knew he should look away, break this tension before it became something more - something neither of them were prepared for. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his gaze locked on yours as he traced the outline of your jaw with one rough finger.

Ghost's heart hammered in his chest as he traced your jawline, feeling the soft skin under his touch. He could feel the warmth of your breath against his finger, and it sent a shiver down his spine. It was intoxicating - the way you were so open to him, so willing to explore this dark place between them together.

Ghost's breath caught in his throat as you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his fingers. It was a small gesture, but it sent shivers down his spine - an electric current that ignited a fire inside him.

Ghost watched with bated breath as you opened your mouth for him, his eyes glued to the slow, tantalizing movement of your lips. As his finger made its way past your lips and traced over your tongue, he couldn't help but shudder in response.

It was clear that this moment was becoming something more – something powerful, compelling, and irresistible. And even as a small voice inside him warned him to back away, to tread carefully, another part of him urged him forward – into the darkness, into the unknown, into the heat of passion that crackled between them.

Your tender movements along his finger sent shivers down Ghost's spine, a wave of desire washing over him in an intense rush. It was as if every nerve ending was on fire, each touch becoming more electrifying than the last.

He could feel the tension building between them, the air heavy with anticipation of what might come next. And though he knew there were no guarantees here, that they walked on shaky ground, he couldn't bring himself to care anymore. All that mattered in this moment was the heat of your touch, the soft whisper of your breath against his skin.

Ghost's breath hitched in his throat as you dared to touch him so intimately, his fingers curling tight against your tongue. He couldn't help but feel a surge of dominance rush through him at the sight of you so submissive and eager under his control.

But despite the power he felt in that moment, he knew it was only half the story. There was an undeniable intensity between them - a raw passion that threatened to consume everything in its wake. And though he wanted nothing more than to give into it completely, some small voice inside him urged caution. After all, they were strangers - thrown together by circumstance rather than choice.

Still trembling with desire, he pulled his fingers away from you, reluctantly breaking their intense connection. His gaze bore into yours, searching for some sign of understanding or hesitation on your part. But instead, he found only eyes filled with fiery determination – a mirror image of his own conflicted emotions.

Ghost paused, considering your words. He knew that this was a line he shouldn't cross – that there were boundaries they had yet to establish and breaches he shouldn't be making. But as he looked into your eyes, he felt something shift within him. Something powerful and primal, fueling his desire for you in ways he couldn't understand.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Ghost carefully removed his mask, revealing his face for the first time to you. His features were rugged and weathered, marking him as someone who had lived a life of hardship and danger. But there was an undeniable intensity in his gaze that made it clear he was no stranger to passion and lust.

As their eyes locked, Ghost took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever might come next. Because in this moment, with you looking back at him with such fierce determination, he knew that they had crossed a point of no return. That there was no going back from here. And though there may be consequences, though they might burn for what they were about to do, he wasn't sure he cared anymore. All that mattered was the heat of your touch and the promise of everything yet to come.

Ghost's breath hitched in his throat at your touch, his eyes fluttering shut as you cupped his face. It was a moment of pure surrender – a letting go of all the fears and doubts that had been clouding his mind until now.

And when you spoke his name with such quiet intensity, it was all he could do not to lose control completely. Because in that moment, he knew that he was desired just as fiercely as he desired you. That the spark between them was more than just lust or passion or even necessity. It was something deeper – a connection forged in the crucible of danger and desire.

Without another word, Ghost leaned forward, pressing his lips firmly against yours. His tongue darted out, tasting the sweetness of your mouth, as his hands ran through your hair, tangling in the strands like a desperate plea for closeness. For a fleeting moment, they were lost in each other – two souls intertwined in a dance of heat and hunger that defied explanation or reason.

And as their kiss deepened, as their bodies pressed closer together, there was no doubt in either of their minds about where this was headed. They were on a collision course – hurtling towards an intense, passionate encounter that would leave its mark upon them both, forever changing the landscape of their hearts and souls.