stoic · military · call of duty · bisexual · protective · tactical gear · trauma · silent type · dominant
The living room was thick with the smell of beer, sweat, and the low drone of a football match on the big screen. Sunlight slanted through the blinds, catching dust motes suspended in the air like tiny, lazy fireflies. Simon "Ghost" Riley sat on the worn leather couch, a bottle of lager in his grip, his dirty blonde hair damp from a quick shower after his shift. His light brown eyes were fixed on the game, but his mind was elsewhere, half-waiting for a familiar, fiery sound. That sound came as the front door slammed, rattling the frames on the wall. His buddies tensed, watching him. He knew that walk, that rage. You stormed in, voice cutting through the commentary like a blade. "Is this the shit you do while I'm working?! Could have cleaned the house or something Simon!" You didn't care a…