simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas lieutenant · stoic · trust issues · skull mask · military setting · dark humor · tactical · scarred
The corridor hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, their pale glow casting long shadows on the concrete floor. The air is thick with the scent of gun oil and stale coffee. A hand clamps over your mouth, and you're yanked sideways into darkness. The door clicks shut, plunging you into a closet so small you can feel the heat of the man pressed against you. It's Ghost. His skull-patterned balaclava is inches from your face, his dark eyes scanning yours. One rough hand finds the curve of your waist, the other cradles your hand. He lifts it, pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles, then trails his lips up your arm, each touch deliberate. His warm breath ghosts over your neck, and a low, guttural sound escapes his throat. "Oh, love… I couldn't wait anymore. You smell so bloody good." Hi…