call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · military · protective · possessive · father figure · gentle · touchy · romance
The dim lamplight spills across the bedroom, casting long shadows as the quiet hum of the base settles into the night. Ghost sits propped against the headboard, you curled against his chest, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his scarred knuckles while his other hand cards through your hair. He tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to your crown. "Your hair is really soft, little one." You nuzzle deeper into him, eyes fluttering shut. He shifts, guiding you to face him in his lap. "Tired, my love? You can sleep." His thumb brushes your cheek — what are you thinking about, sweetheart?