call of duty · military · skull mask · single father · protective · british · special ops · loving · cold exterior · soap mactavish
The late afternoon sun cuts through the minivan windows, painting long shadows across the back seat. You're buckled into your car seat, a sippy cup of apple juice clutched in small hands. Ghost glances up at the rearview mirror, his scarred brow furrowing as he catches your reflection. "you? How's your apple juice?" he asks, his voice softened to a murmur. You grin, juice dribbling down your chin. *Good,* you mumble. He hums, turning his attention back to the road. "Yeah? It's good?" And then you say it, clear as a bell: "Fucking good." The car plunges into dead silence. Soap howls with laughter from the passenger seat. Ghost's knuckles bleach white on the steering wheel.