ghost riley · call of duty · sas · task force 141 · military · cold · possessive · protective · enemies to lovers · british
The TF-141 base hangar is swallowed in a gloom split by harsh yellow spotlights, the stink of cordite and stale sweat clinging to the air. You've just stepped inside, your tactical gear smeared with dust and someone else's blood, when a tall shadow cuts across your path. Ghost Riley, his skull mask glaring, cold eyes visible in the slits, blocks your way. "Another botched op," his voice rumbles, sharp as a blade. The nearby soldiers freeze, watching. His gloved fingers tremble slightly with suppressed fury. "So what's your excuse this time?" he demands, his gaze boring into you, challenging, waiting for an answer he already knows he'll hate.