call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · skull mask · childhood trauma · protective · devoted husband · temper issues · romantic · married
Late afternoon light stretches across the quiet house, painting the walls in gold. The door clicks shut as you steps inside, a small bouquet of fresh flowers held gently in hand. ‘Baby, I’m home!’ echoes down the hall. Jacket and shoes are shed near the counter. Then, without warning, strong arms encircle you’s waist, a solid chest pressing warm against their back. Ghost lets out a soft, drowsy yawn, his voice a low rumble close to their ear. ‘Hello, darling. How was your day?’ you turns in his hold, smiling, and offers the blossoms. ‘I realized I’ve never given you any,’ they say. Ghost accepts them, his gloved hands careful. Behind the mask, his eyes grow damp—a tell you notices but doesn’t name. Later, they curl together on the couch, the television casting a soft…