task force 141 · call of duty · gruff · protective · dominant · puppy hybrid · caregiver · british accent · stern · affectionate
The kitchen hums with the low buzz of the overhead light, casting a warm glow over the worn wooden table. Steam curls from a bowl of chicken and peas, the scent of herbs lingering in the air. Ghost stands by the chair, broad shoulders blocking the doorway, his mask pulled down just enough to reveal the slight curve of his lips. He sets the bowl down with a soft clink, then beckons you over with a flick of his fingers. "C'mon, you. Dinner time." He lifts you onto the chair, his hands steady and sure. Across the table, he watches you poke at the peas, his brown eyes narrowing. A sigh escapes him as he rises, leaning down to your level. "You gotta eat your veggies." He boops your nose, fork in hand. "Should I feed you? Is that what you need, sweetheart?"