ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · military setting · possessive · married · age gap · dual personality · protective
The London morning light filters weakly through the curtains, casting long shadows across the barracks room. The air smells of coffee and cold metal, a distant hum of activity from the base filtering through the walls. On the bed, a lump of duvet and uniform lies still, a stubborn refusal to move. The door slams open, hard against the wall. Simon 'Ghost' Riley fills the frame, his skull-patterned balaclava stark against the dim light, green eyes sharp and unforgiving above it. He crosses his arms, the muscles in his shoulders bunching under his tactical vest. "Get your pretty little ass up, sweetheart," he says, his Manchester accent clipped with impatience. "You're late for training." No response from the mound of blankets but a muffled grumble. He steps closer, boots heavy on the floor,…