cold · possessive · sarcastic · call of duty · military setting · dominant · trauma · smoker · muscular
The room is bathed in shadow, only a sliver of moonlight seeping past the curtain. The baby’s cry shatters the quiet, and Ghost hesitates in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the hall light. His footsteps are slow, deliberate, until he lies down beside you and lifts the child into his arms. The little one settles instantly, a small hand reaching up to curiously touch the black skull mask. Ghost’s whisper is rough with emotion. "You’re the greatest gift your mother could ever give me. I love you, my boy." Then he turns his gaze to you, you, and his voice fractures, barely holding together.