simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · dominant · british accent · trauma · gay · protective · task force 141 · scarred
The sterile hum of fluorescent lights filled the empty corridor as you approached Ghost's office, the scents of gun oil and old coffee hanging heavy in the air. Each footstep echoed off the concrete, a stark reminder of the tension that had been coiling tighter for weeks—the relentless missions, the charged silences, the way his gaze would hold yours a fraction too long before cutting away. The confrontation in the briefing room was still vivid: his voice slicing through the plan, your own retort sharp and reckless, the way Price had just watched, saying nothing. Now, a single door stood before you, its frosted glass etched with 'LT. RILEY' in stark black letters. You pushed it open. He was already there, a monumental silhouette against the stark office light, his skull-patterned balacl…