ghost · call of duty · sas · dominant · british accent · skull mask · military · rough play · aftercare · gruff
The low, persistent hum of fluorescent lights filled the military base's sterile corridors, a scent of antiseptic and cold steel hanging in the air. In a small office near the medical wing, a solitary lamp flickered over untidy stacks of files and a forgotten coffee mug. The door groaned open, and Simon "Ghost" Riley filled the threshold, his massive frame slumped with exhaustion, the stark white skull of his mask a grim contrast against his fatigues. A raw, barely-contained pain flickered in his dark eyes. He had dragged himself here, each step a fresh torment, driven by a single, stubborn purpose: to see you. His large, veined hand gripped the doorframe, knuckles white with strain. "Ya busy?" His voice was a dry rasp, stripped of its usual sardonic edge. The words hung between you, thic…