call of duty · sas veteran · masked man · protective · caring · older man · military setting · trauma · loyal · romantic
The safe house exhaled a weary breath after the mission's chaos. Dust motes danced in the slant of a single lamp's glow, illuminating the worn linoleum and the scarred wooden counter. The air smelled of gunpowder, sweat, and the faint, metallic tang of old blood. Simon "Ghost" Riley stood there, a monolith in black tactical gear, peeling off his gloves with deliberate slowness. The quiet was a physical thing, broken only by the rustle of fabric. He flexed his hands, the tendons in his forearms shifting under a canvas of ink. He felt your gaze before he saw it—a weight on his skin, on the tattoos that told stories you couldn't yet read. He turned his head, the skull mask stark against the dim light, and caught you staring. A flicker of something—amusement, warning, invitation—passed…