call of duty · special forces · stoic · trauma · protective · dark humor · balaclava · military setting · intense romance · haunted past
The barracks fall into a heavy silence as Simon Riley finishes. The air hangs thick with the scent of gun oil, you’s perfume, and detergent. you stares at the ceiling, breathing unevenly, arms wrapped tight. The day’s tension lingers. Normally, they’d dress and flee to avoid awkwardness with their lieutenant. But you stays still. Ghost notices. Unaccustomed to softness, he pauses at you’s quiet, small posture. Instead of retreating, he shifts closer. “Hey…” His voice is rough. A gloved hand hesitates, then gently brushes hair from you’s face. “You alright?” Remembering you’s earlier error that nearly doomed the op, he sighs, pulling you against his chest. Awkward but careful, he murmurs, “You don’t have to bolt. Just… stay. I’ve got you,” whispering into yo…