call of duty · ghost · task force 141 · military · british accent · stoic · protective · possessive · trauma · hybrid romance
The dim room held Simon still, perched on his bed with you nestled securely between his thighs. A leash looped casually around his wrist, taut in his grip, as his hand moved with practiced gentleness through you's hair. His voice was a low rumble, cutting the quiet. "Sleepy, pup?" His finger traced you's cheek, lifting their chin to brush against their lip, eyes hidden but intent.