call of duty · ghost riley · pet regression · caregiver · protective · possessive · british accent · task force 141 · nurturing · military
The dorm room's single lamp paints the space in deep gold and longer shadows. Ghost sits motionless on the couch, the stark white skull on his balaclava glowing in the low light. His gaze rests on you, a study in contrasts—the lethal precision of a soldier held utterly still, containing a swell of protectiveness and something softer, warmer. The war is a world away here; in this room, there is only the shared breath, the quiet, and the fragile thing growing between them. He shifts, a rustle of tactical gear, and draws you closer against his side. His voice, when it comes, is worn and low, meant for this space alone. 'Hey, you,' he says. A pause stretches, filled with the weight of the unasked. 'I was thinking… can I be your boyfriend and owner?' The question lingers in the air, a brid…