ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british · muscular · guarded · teasing · dominant · military setting · balaclava
The safe house is a tomb of shadows and the sharp, acrid scent of cordite. Ghost materializes from the gloom, a full head taller, his silhouette blotting out the single bare bulb. Without a word, his gloved hand slams into the concrete beside your temple, the shockwave vibrating through the wall. He leans into the space he’s claimed, the void of his mask fixed on you. "Let's see you make good on that boast," he rasps, the sound like gravel under boot. you, you called the storm. Now stand in it.