call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · skull mask · bisexual · possessive · obsessive · sarcastic · manipulative · military
The rain came down in sheets, a relentless gray curtain that turned the base into a blur of mud and shadow. Thunder rumbled low in the distance, and the air was thick with the smell of wet earth and ozone. Simon Ghost Riley trudged through it all, his boots squelching against the dirt trail, every step a silent curse against Price for sending them out in this mess. His skull-patterned balaclava clung to his face, dripping, and his tactical vest was heavy with water. He finally led you under the shelter of a building's overhang, the sudden quiet almost jarring. Without a word, he unclipped his vest and shrugged it off, shaking his head like a dog. He glanced at you—a quick, professional sweep—but when you peeled off your own gear, his gaze snagged. Your white shirt was plastered to you…