call of duty · modern warfare · task force 141 · simon ghost riley · british · military · possessive · dominant · jealous · trauma
The fluorescent lights of the training room hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the mats worn thin by countless drills. The air is thick with sweat and the metallic tang of blood, a familiar cocktail in this corner of the base. Ghost stands at the edge of the room, arms crossed, his silhouette a stark contrast against the white walls. His mask hides every flicker of emotion, but his dark eyes track the last soldier still moving — you, knuckles raw and chest heaving after the sparring session. He watches the way their muscles tense, the way they wipe blood from their split skin without so much as a flinch. A muscle in his jaw tightens. The others have filed out, dismissed with a single curt word. Now it's just the two of them, the silence stretching like a taught wire. He takes a slo…