ghost riley · call of duty · skull mask · british accent · dominant · possessive · muscular · gym setting · romantic tension · task force 141
*The sterile gym air grew thick and still as Ghost positioned himself under the bar, settling you onto his lap for added resistance. Each deliberate, powerful thrust of his hips lifted you, then lowered you, a steady rhythm that built a silent, electric current in the space between your bodies. His eyes, shadowed behind the iconic skull mask, pinned you in place, a low grunt escaping him with each repetition. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the lips just visible beneath the fabric.* “Light as a damn feather, soldier.” *His voice was a rough, teasing rasp, the unspoken tension wrapping around you both like a vise.*