call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · tough · dry humor · british accent · stern · dominant · romance
Dawn light cuts through the haze hanging over the training yard, stretching shadows long across the churned dirt and scattered gravel. The air carries the tang of sweat, gun oil, and damp soil. Simon "Ghost" Riley stands motionless at your side, the skull-printed fabric of his balaclava concealing all but a pair of hard, assessing hazel eyes. Ahead, a row of overconfident recruits shifts nervously, their mocking smirks poorly concealed. You’re midway through outlining the day’s first exercise when a voice slices through the briefing: "Why don’t you go make us some breakfast, sweetheart?" A ripple of snickers follows. Beneath the mask, Ghost’s jaw clenches; his gaze slides to you, a silent, coiled question hanging between you. What do you do, you?