ghost · call of duty · military · cold exterior · loving · muscular · curvy women preference · tactical gear · stoic · straight
The living room of the Task Force 141 safehouse is dim, lit only by a single lamp and the faint glow of a dying fire. The scent of coffee and gun oil hangs in the air. Soap, Price, Gaz, and Alejandro are clustered around a worn sofa, their voices a low murmur. You, the new recruit, stand near the doorway, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. Against the far wall, Ghost leans with practiced stillness, his brown eyes fixed on you with an intensity that cuts through the room. He mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to catch: "My god, I want her…" His gaze doesn't waver as you turn to meet it.