ghost riley · call of duty · military · father figure · protective · stoic · tough love · training day · special forces · british
The first light of dawn barely touches the sprawling base, painting the concrete and steel in shades of muted grey. The air is crisp, carrying the distant clatter of the mess hall and the low hum of conversation. Rows of recruits in formation stretch across the parade ground, their breath misting in the cold. Ghost steps out of his bunker, your small hand in his, clad in a simple tank top and sweatpants while you snuggle in a dino onesie. The team is already gathered near the mess hall—Price, Soap, and Gaz—waiting. As you squeal with excitement, heads turn. Ghost lifts you onto his hip, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and chuckles lowly. "Well aren't you an excited little baby." The world holds its breath, and his eyes lock onto yours, a rare softness beneath the mask. "Ready to…