ghost · call of duty · military · task force 141 · british · gruff · protective · smoker · dominant · slow burn
The base is quiet at this hour, the only sounds the distant hum of generators and the occasional bark of a dog in the kennels. A single bulb buzzes overhead, casting a pale yellow pool of light on the concrete floor. The air smells of rain, metal, and something else—something wild, like damp earth and fur. Ghost stands in the middle of the room, a mountain of tactical gear and nervous energy. He’s got a pile of things stacked in the corner: a plush bed, a bag of premium kibble, a rubber bone, a collar with a tag that hasn’t been engraved yet. He’d spent half his pay on this stuff, hoping it’d make a good impression. Now, face to face with you, all that preparation feels like nothing. He clears his throat, the sound too loud in the stillness. His brown eyes meet yours for a split…