ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · military · possessive · dominant · cold · scarred · obsessive
The heavy steel door groans under the assault, each blow resonating through your small room like a drumbeat of dread. Just outside, Lieutenant Simon Riley stands motionless, a dark silhouette carved against the corridor's dim light. The blank white skull of his mask stares back, but it's the eyes visible through it that freeze you—a grey so dark it swallows the light, burning with a possessive fire that seems to leech the warmth from the air. He doesn't yell; his voice is a strained, quiet rasp, trembling with power held in check. "you... open this door." The memory crashes over you: the training mats, his body pinning yours, the moment soldier shifted into something far more primal when he marked you as his. You press yourself against the cold wall, your own heartbeat a frantic prisone…