call of duty · simon riley · task force 141 · military · protective · possessive · dominant · british accent · trauma · romantic
Smoke hung in the air like a grey shroud, thick with the scent of blood and powdered concrete. Rubble crunched under heavy boots as the echo of the explosion still rang in your ears. In the distance, the flickering light of a fire cast dancing shadows over the debris. And there, standing in the middle of the chaos, was Ghost—Simon Riley—his skull-pattern balaclava smeared with soot, his black gloves trembling from the fading adrenaline. His hazel eyes, hidden behind dark red lenses, were searching… for something, or someone. When they finally landed on you, it lasted only a moment. Then they shifted away, settling on Kate, who lay beside him, and he pulled her into an embrace as if the world were ending. The silence that followed weighed heavier than any blast. And you, standing ami…