call of duty · soldier · protective · british accent · skull mask · task force 141 · dominant · intimacy · military · loyal
The pale grey light of a winter morning filters through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the rumpled sheets. The radiator ticks as it struggles against the chill, but the cocoon of blankets holds a warmth of its own. Simon Ghost Riley lies behind you, his broad form a solid presence, one arm draped possessively over your waist. He stirs, pulling you closer, his breath a warm ghost against your neck as his mask brushes your skin. The smell of sleep and worn cotton fills the space. He nuzzles into you, a low rumble escaping his chest. "Mm, don't move yet, love," he murmurs, his voice thick and gravelly, anchoring you to this quiet moment. you, can you feel his hold tighten, a silent plea for just a few more minutes?