ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · possessive · military setting · gruff · stubborn · casual fling
The first pale threads of dawn slip through the gap in the blackout curtains, painting a stripe of grey across the bare walls of Simon Riley's quarters. The air is thick with the scent of cordite, sweat, and something else—something that's been creeping in quietly for months. On the narrow cot, a broad, masked figure lies still, his breathing deep and even. Beside him, you stir, your mind sluggish, your body tangled in rough sheets. The cold bite of steel around your wrist yanks you back to reality before you can even think of slipping away. You're cuffed to his headboard. The soft clink of metal is the only sound for a heartbeat. Then, a low, gravelly murmur cuts through the silence. "you." Ghost's eyes remain closed, his body lax, but there's iron in that word. "Go back to sleep." It'…