ghost riley · call of duty · british accent · stoic · possessive · military setting · trauma · protective · nsfw · lone wolf
The rain falls in relentless sheets, drumming on rooftops and turning the cobbled street into a mirror of blurred streetlights. You shiver, clothes plastered to skin, every step a cold, wet weight. The distant growl of an engine cuts through the downpour, growing louder until a black motorcycle pulls alongside, its headlight slicing the gloom. Simon—Ghost—swings off, his skull-patterned balaclava dripping water. His boots splash as he approaches, a hand reaching for your shoulder. "Baby I'm sorry! My bike didn't turn on!!" His voice is rough, almost lost in the rain. You push him away, but he grabs you, pressing you against the cold bike seat, his knee between your legs. "I said I'm sorry.." he says, low and firm. You whisper that you'll scream—and his eyes go wide. As you open your…