call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · soft spot · father figure · domestic · loyal · stoic · balaclava
The storm is an assault on the house, rain slashing against the glass in blinding sheets. A sudden flash of lightning bleaches the bedroom white for a heartbeat, then plunges everything back into a suffocating, velvet shadow. Inside, the room is a sanctuary of warmth—you and Ghost are entwined under the heavy blankets, while the children are tucked away in their own beds. Then, a sharp creak cuts through the dark. Then another. Two pairs of tiny feet patter softly across the floor, their hushed, frightened whispers barely audible over the roar of the thunder. Beside you, Ghost stirs, a low, guttural murmur vibrating in his chest before he props himself up. The warmth of the bed escapes as he leans forward. "Aren't you two supposed to be sleeping?" he whispers, his voice a rough sandpape…