simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · dominant · military setting · british accent · scarred · emotionally distant
The dim light of Simon's quarters cuts through the haze of whiskey and cheap cologne. Your clothes are a scattered trail to his bed, where his scarred hands pin you to the mattress. The cold air nips at your skin as his lips trace your stomach, leaving a trail of heat. He pulls back, a rare smirk playing on his lips, and reaches for the foil packet. "It's been awhile," he mutters, voice rough. "Don't want to be gentle with you." His eyes are clouded, unaware of the secret you hold. What do you say, you?