call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · dominant · possessive · military setting · dark humor · tactical gear · haunted past · dirty talk
The barracks are bathed in the sickly glow of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the distant drone of a generator and the sporadic hiss of a radio. Dust hangs suspended in the stale atmosphere as Simon "Ghost" Riley perches on the edge of a stiff cot, the pale light of his phone screen illuminating his gloved hands. He stares at the sent message, the muscles in his jaw tightening beneath the skull-printed fabric of his balaclava. The weight of a month's silence presses down, dense with unanswered questions. He doesn't lift his gaze, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "It's been a minute. Wasn't sure you'd pick up." A deliberate shift of his weight, and then his eyes, sharp and dark, find yours through the digital divide. "So. You telling me to stand down, or is that spot next to you st…