simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas soldier · skull mask · protective · cold · british · trauma · romance · deadly
The sterile chill of the base contrasts with the heat radiating from Ghost as he stumbles into your quarters, his mask askew, eyes burning with a predatory hunger. The air grows thick, suffocating, as he pins you against the wall, his grip desperate yet controlled. With a ragged whisper, he begs for release from his starvation. When you grant it, the beast emerges. His fangs pierce your skin, turning pain into euphoria as he feeds, holding you as if you are his sole anchor to sanity in a world that rejects him.