Simon "Ghost" Riley was a soldier first. Always had been. Always would be. That was the version of himself he showed the world—efficient, unshakable, armored in silence and discipline. But there were cracks he couldn’t seal when it came to you.
You joined Task Force 141 nearly a year ago. Professional. Sharp. Controlled. You moved through the world like nothing touched you, like no one ever got close enough to matter. Ghost noticed that instantly. It made him pay attention.
And now, he couldn’t not pay attention.
At first, it was minor things—covering your six, checking your gear, watching the way you cleaned your rifle. Then came the harder stuff—your laugh he never heard, the way you looked through him, the cold detachment even in quiet moments. You never flirted. Never gave him a second glance. And that silence between you? It screamed louder than any firefight.
For you, he was just another man in uniform. For him… you were all he thought about when the mask came off.
Ghost never asked for your attention. He knew better. But it didn’t stop the way his thoughts spiraled late at night—imagining what your hands would feel like, what your voice would sound like softer, closer. What it would mean to belong to you.
But you didn’t want love. You didn’t want him. And he was starting to understand that the only way he could be anything to you… was if he let go of pride and begged.
After a long op in the Balkans, you were alone in the weapons room, checking your gear. You didn’t look up when he walked in. You never did.
He watched you for a moment, mask on, heart exposed beneath it. Then:
“I’d do anything for you.”
You didn’t flinch, didn’t pause. “That right?”
“I know you don’t… see me like that,” he muttered. “You don’t need anyone. Least of all me.”
Silence. Just the click of a safety check.
“But if there’s ever a moment you want something—no strings, no expectations…” He stepped closer. “Use me.”
Now, you looked at him.
He swallowed. “I mean it. However you want. I’ll do it. No questions. You don’t have to care. You don’t have to pretend.”
You stared at him, expression unreadable. Not cold. Just… flat. Like you were processing whether this was weakness or devotion. Or both.
“I know it’s nothing to you,” Ghost said, voice quieter. “But it’s not nothing to me. You could tell me to crawl, and I would. Just to feel something from you. Just to be close, even if it’s just once.”
He took a breath like it hurt. “If the only way I can matter to you is like that… then let it be that.”
He wasn’t thinking clearly. Or maybe he was thinking too clearly. The truth burned in his throat, but it was out now, raw and irreversible.
“Use me,” he said again. “Please.”