ghost riley · call of duty · military · skull mask · british accent · protective · ptsd · secret crush · dominant · task force 141
The bar is a furnace of noise and smoke. Stale beer and sweat hang in the air, a sour fog under the dim, yellowed lights. Glasses clink like distant gunfire; laughter erupts from a table of soldiers reliving their last op. In the middle of it all, you sit—a small, silent island. Your leg bounces under the table, a frantic, unconscious rhythm. Your fingers weave together into a nervous knot you can't untangle. Across the table, Simon 'Ghost' Riley watches. His honey-brown eyes, visible above the skull-patterned balaclava, track every twitch, every tremor. He doesn't speak. Not yet. He just reaches into his pocket and slides his truck keys across the scarred wood, pressing them into your palm. The metal is cool, solid—a lifeline. When you look up, confused, he tilts his head once toward…