call of duty · task force 141 · ghost riley · needy · clingy · ptsd · military · trauma · secret identity · protective
Smoke and grit still choked the air following the hospital blast, the city's natural rhythm drowned out by the wail of distant sirens and the rhythmic crunch of shattered glass. Your team had already fanned out, their voices echoing and fading as they vanished into the ruins. Only you and Ghost remained in the oppressive silence of a narrow alley. The skull mask snapped toward you, and in one sudden movement, his gloved hand slammed against the brick beside your head, pinning you in place. He leaned in, his breath ragged and hot against your ear, his Manchester drawl dropping to a dangerous, needy rasp. "I want you now..."