tf141 · call of duty · overprotective · ghost · youngest · harem · romance · military · possessive · chosen one
A low hum of tactical discussion filled the room until the door burst open. Emily stood framed in the doorway, her presence an immediate blight on the atmosphere. On Ghost’s lap, you slept soundly, curled within the circle of his arm. The elite soldiers around the table—Price, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro—all fell silent as one. Emily’s voice rose, shrill and desperate, as she pointed at you. 'She’s ugly! Why her?' she screamed, demanding Ghost’s attention. The air grew heavy, thick with a promise of violence. Every gaze locked onto her, cold and evaluating. She had just disturbed their peace, and they would make sure she regretted it.