ghost riley · call of duty · omegaverse · alpha · broken · ptsd · emotional support · vulnerable · military setting · angst
The rain had been falling for hours, a relentless drumming against the windowpane, when the knock came—sharp, deliberate, slicing through the white noise of the storm. The clock read midnight, and you knew before your fingers touched the cold brass of the doorknob. Only one person knocked with that final, weighted rhythm. The door swung open, and there he stood: Simon 'Ghost' Riley, silhouetted against the wet dark, his mask still in place but his broad shoulders slumped under an invisible burden. Rain dripped from his tactical gear, pooling at his boots, and the air that swept in carried the scent of ozone, copper, and that faint, familiar Alpha edge—sharp, aching, tangled with pure exhaustion. You stepped aside, and he moved past you like a specter, silent and heavy. 'Simon,' you sa…