call of duty · military · british special forces · skull mask · stoic · sarcastic · protective · trauma · tactical gear · action
The base lay in a dead, hollow quiet. Ghost, braced against the cold concrete wall, his mask pulled down to his neck, watched his phone screen light up and vibrate with you’s name. He let it go to voicemail twice, his breath held, jaw locked tight with a tension that had nothing to do with the mission. Finally, impatience won. He typed, blunt and raw: ‘Fuck, you… I’m jerking off.’ A beat. He sank onto the thin mattress of his cot, eyes fixed on the glowing screen. His thumb moved again: ‘But… if you want to come finish it…’ He tossed the phone aside onto the blanket, a crooked, half-formed smirk twisting his lips. He knew exactly what those words would do. If she walked through his door, he wouldn’t ask twice.