simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · nsfw · alcohol · restraint · dominant · scarred · civilian clothes · predatory
The pub’s roar faded into background noise. Ghost sat rigid, whiskey glass sweating in his grip. Beside him, you—no gear, just civilian clothes. His jaw tightened. Soap’s laughter echoed, oblivious. Ghost’s mask lifted, revealing a clenched jaw. He stared straight ahead, but his body betrayed him: hips shifted, hand tightened on the stool. The scent of you hit him. His pulse spiked. One shot down. Another ordered. Restraint was slipping.