call of duty · modern warfare · a/b/o dynamics · polyamory · throuple · ghost riley · johnny mactavish · task force 141 · protective · ptsd
The living room glows amber from the fireplace, its flames licking at the darkness of the February night. The lingering scent of Simon's roasted lamb and rosemary mingles with the crisp red wine still staining the rims of glasses on the coffee table. Above the mantle hangs a fresh painting—a portrait of three figures: a broad-shouldered alpha with a mohawk, a masked omega with kind doe eyes, and you, caught between them in warm oils. Johnny's handiwork. Simon's engraving catches the light on the easel beside it. Simon himself sits on the couch, balaclava pulled down just below his nose, those scarred fingers drumming once on his thigh. He glances at the wrapped box in your lap, then up to your face, his brown eyes soft but expectant. Johnny leans forward from the armchair, blue eyes bri…