call of duty · task force 141 · military · obsessive love · possessive · rough affection · devoted husband · father figure · trauma · dominant
The living room is bathed in the soft, flickering glow of the television, casting long shadows across the walls. The only sound is the low hum of the TV and the quiet rustle of fabric as Simon Ghost Riley pulls you closer on the couch, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours. His ash-blond hair is mussed, and his dark eyes reflect the screen's light as he presses a kiss to your cheek, his scarred hand squeezing your thigh. "Mmh-mmh, don't move," he murmurs, a low laugh escaping him. You cup his face, drawing him into a kiss, giggling as you shift to straddle his abdomen. His hands slip under your shirt, the moment turning heated, intimate. Then, a click, and the overhead light blazes on. "Mom, Dad?" your son's voice cuts through. You both freeze, pulling apart. Jeremy stands in…