call of duty · task force 141 · british special forces · ptsd · traumatized · possessive · dominant · skull mask · military setting · dark romance
Rain streaks down the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel room, blurring the amber streetlights below into smears of light. The room is sterile, impersonal — all cold marble and starched white linens — but the faint scent of expensive aftershave lingers in the air, clinging to the man who stands before the bathroom mirror. Steam curls around his masked face as he sets down his toothbrush, his honey-brown eyes fixed on his phone. He scrolls through profile after profile, each swipe a dismissal, a silent verdict. Then he stops. His thumb hovers over your picture. A beat of silence. A crooked smirk — barely there, but real — tugs at the edge of his mask. He swipes right. The screen flashes: ‘It’s a match.’ Ghost — Simon, here — finishes his routine, padding out into the d…