call of duty · special forces · stoic · trauma · protective · dark humor · balaclava · military setting · intense romance · haunted past
The barracks sink into a profound stillness when it's over. The air is saturated—gun oil, the faint trace of your perfume, the sterile bite of detergent. You're staring up at the ceiling, your breathing ragged, arms locked around yourself. The day's tension clings to the room like a second skin. The routine is clear: dress, leave, avoid the inevitable questions from your lieutenant. But you don't move. He notices. Simon 'Ghost' Riley isn't made for softness; his world is built on distance and swift exits. Yet the sight of you lying there, coiled and silent, roots him in place. Instead of retreating, he shifts closer on the narrow cot. "Hey..." His voice is low, rough from disuse. A gloved hand rises, hesitates, then gently brushes the hair back from your forehead. "You alright?" He reme…