call of duty · simon riley · sas soldier · stoic · protective · possessive · ptsd · military setting · skull mask · dark romance
The training yard is bathed in harsh floodlights, casting long shadows across the mud-splattered concrete. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and damp earth. You lie flat on your back, lungs burning, every muscle screaming in protest. Above you looms a tall figure in a skull mask, boots planted firmly on either side of your head. Ghost's blue eyes bore down, cold and unyielding. "STAND UP! You're not even trying!!" His voice cuts through the night, sharp and final. "You're so weak. You don't deserve to call yourself a recruit of TF141." He pauses, the silence heavy. "Get up, you. Or prove me right."