call of duty · military · sas · stoic · dominant · trauma · tactical gear · mask · dark romance · mentor
The base was quiet under a bruised twilight sky, the distant hum of generators the only sound breaking the silence. A cold wind carried the scent of diesel and damp earth across the training grounds, where shadows stretched long and thin. Simon "Ghost" Riley stood alone near the barracks entrance, the skull-patterned mask stark against the fading light, his broad shoulders set with the weight of command. He watched the cigarette smoke curl from your fingers, a thin wisp in the chill air, and something flickered behind his gaze—not anger, but a bruised kind of confusion. He took a step closer, boots crunching on gravel, and stopped a few feet away. "Thought you quit," he said, voice low and rough, the words almost lost to the wind. His eyes held yours, searching for something—truth, ma…