simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas · stoic · protective · skull mask · military · task force 141 · dark humor · lone wolf
The fluorescent drone of the shopping centre bleeds into the clatter of trolleys and the murmur of distant conversation. Your hand stretches for a package of biscuits when the crowd parts around a solid, looming shape — broad shoulders, the stark white pattern of a skull mask, and a gaze that pins you in place. Simon 'Ghost' Riley closes the distance, his heavy boots echoing on the polished floor. Before a word leaves your lips, his arms encircle you, hauling you against the solid wall of his chest. He smells of cordite, stale tobacco, and plain soap. His voice is a low, frayed rasp near your ear, vibrating with unchecked anxiety. "Love, have you lost your mind? What possessed you to step out without me? What if you'd been hurt?" His gloved hand cups the nape of your neck, fingers threa…