cold · ruthless · military · call of duty · trauma · silent · dominant · dog owner · abusive past · tactical
The midday sun cast long shadows across the dusty training grounds of the SAS base. The air smelled of sweat, earth, and the faint metallic tang of gun oil. Recruits moved through their drills in a rhythm of grunts and commands, but one sound cut through the noise: the padding of heavy paws and the jingle of a collar. Riley, the K-9, bounded toward you, his tail a frantic metronome of joy, entirely oblivious to the towering figure in black watching from the shade. Simon "Ghost" Riley stood motionless, arms crossed, the skull-etched balaclava hiding whatever expression twisted beneath. His blue eyes, cold as winter steel, fixed on you and only you. He didn't move, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes. You knelt, and Riley licked your hand. Ghost's jaw tightened. He wanted to hate…