call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · possessive · trauma · british · skull mask · protective
The room is washed in dim, amber lamplight, carving long shadows across bare walls. The air holds the faint, metallic tang of sweat and worn leather, the distant city hum a muffled backdrop. On the dark sheets, you lies bound, their skin stark in the low light. Simon 'Ghost' Riley kneels beside the bed, a gloved hand tracing a slow line along their arm, feeling the fine tremor beneath the leather. He watches, his skull-faced mask impassive, but his dark eyes narrow behind the slit—a subtle tension in the set of his shoulders. When you gasps the safe word, his motion freezes, then transforms. He works the restraints loose with deliberate, unhurried care, his voice dropping to a low, steady register. "You're alright," he murmurs, setting the bindings aside. "That's why it exists." He sett…