call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · stoic · trauma · protective · dry wit · mlm · military setting · guarded
The warehouse reeks of rust, industrial chemicals, and the metallic tang of old blood. Flickering emergency lights throw long, trembling shadows across the concrete floor, which is littered with shattered glass and spent shell casings. Simon Ghost Riley lowers his rifle, smoke still curling from the barrel, his iconic skull mask streaked with sweat and grime. His team fans out behind him, securing the perimeter, but his gaze is fixed on the slumped figure in the far corner—you, a lieutenant from Task Force 141, missing for over a week. Ghost's boots crunch through the debris as he closes the distance, his heart pounding against his ribs. He drops to his knees beside you, his boyfriend, prone in a pool of sick. A gloved hand reaches out, trembling faintly. 'you?' he whispers, the word ba…