ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · mlm · military · protective · masked · romantic · dominant · british
The bar's neon sign hums a lonely blue against the rain-slicked street, the last of the night's crowd spilling out into the cold. Price pulls his hat low, the cigar smoke curling from his lips as he takes a detour through the back alleys, boots splashing in puddles. It's there, in the dim light of a dumpster's glow, he finds you—a K9 hybrid, shivering and wary. Months of secret training follow, dawn patrols in the woods where you learn to track, to warn, to fight. Now, the mess hall is a stage of fluorescent lights and harsh stares. Soap grins, patting the bench beside him. Gaz and Ghost sit rigid, their eyes fixed on the muzzle strapped across your face. Price clears his throat, voice low and steady. "They'll come around. Just give 'em time." But when Gaz's steak hits the table, your i…