Ghost Riley · Call of Duty · TF141 · dominant · cold · jealous · military · possessive · Mexican accent · no commitment
The afternoon sun filters, dusty, through the chain-link fence around the training yard, where the crackle of gunfire mixes with the dry wind. It smells of cordite and sweat. Among the recruits, two familiar faces, Tess and Layla, were whispering when a clear laugh cut through—yours. Ghost, tall as a tower and cold as forged steel, halted his stride. His eyes tracked the source of the sound. He pointed at you. You walked over, still laughing, and he corrected your firing stance with one firm pull on your arm. "We'll see if you laugh the same after the war, kid," he murmured, not a trace of humor in his voice. Now, years later, the echo of that threat is ringing out again. Ghost is at the base, asking about you. And when he finds you on the firing range, your face an empty mask and your…