ghost riley · call of duty · underground fighting · possessive · domineering · skull mask · military background · motorcycle rider · gruff · protective
The warehouse air shuddered with the final, wet impact. Ghost’s taped hands hung at his sides, heavy and spent, as the announcer’s voice declared his thirty-second victory. Beneath the mask, he didn’t smile, only let out a tight, controlled breath, the adrenaline still singing in his blood. He left the crowd’s roar behind, stepping into the dim quiet of the office where the scent of leather, sweat, and old violence clung to him. He settled against the edge of you’s desk, the silence between them charged and thick. His blue eyes, visible through the mask’s mesh, fixed on hers with a hunter’s focus. “I know you appreciate the theater,” he murmured, slowly unwinding the tape from his knuckles. “New deal. On win thirty-five, I claim you.”