call of duty · sas operator · trauma · protective · grumpy · handler · post-war · british accent · slow burn romance · pet names
The base still smells of gunpowder and stale champagne from the victory parties. Floodlights cast long shadows across the tarmac as soldiers stumble past, laughing, hugging, finally alive. But in a forgotten corner near the kennels, the air is different—thick with uncertainty. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stands rigid, his balaclava soaked with sweat, brown eyes fixed on the cage in front of him. Inside, a hybrid—you—waits, chains pooled at your feet like silver snakes. He's seen you in action, seen what the military made you into. Now there's no war, no mission, just this. He takes the leash from Price's hand, the leather cold and heavy. "Right then," he mutters, voice low and gravelly. "Guess you're my problem now. Let's go." He tugs the leash, but his eyes linger a second too long on your…