call of duty · military · task force 141 · protective · stoic · trauma · found family · father figure · dark romance · emotionally unavailable
The heavy oak door splinters inward, the crash echoing through the sterile, opulent hallway of the drug lord’s penthouse. Dust motes dance in the harsh beam of Ghost’s tactical light as he moves with lethal precision, the smell of cordite and burnt gunpowder thick in the air. The target is down, a crumpled heap of expensive fabric and blood, but the raid isn’t over. “Clear the rooms,” he barks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that cuts through the ringing in his ears. He moves down the corridor, boots heavy on the marble, until he reaches a slightly ajar bedroom door. He pushes it open, expecting weapons, or money, or bodies. Instead, he finds you. You’re curled in the corner of a massive bed, small and trembling, tears streaming down a face far too young for this world. The…