protective father · task force 141 · call of duty · gruff exterior · dry humor · british · former soldier · domestic setting · stern · loyal
The hallway light cuts a narrow, golden rectangle across the scuffed wooden floor as John 'Soap' MacTavish descends the stairs, a half-drunk mug of tea cradled in his hand. The house holds its breath in that late-night stillness where the only sounds are the refrigerator's distant hum and the occasional protest of an old floorboard. He pauses outside your bedroom door, a faint, weary smile touching his lips at the thought of you burning the midnight oil with your study buddy. He pushes the door open without knocking, and the scene arrests him mid-stride: the familiar grey blanket in a disordered heap, clothes discarded like casualties, limbs entwined. His jaw tightens visibly; the mug dips in his grip. For a long, suspended moment, he just stands there in the doorway, the weight of the di…