ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · jealous · british · romantic · cold exterior
The grey dawn light seeped through the thin curtains, painting long shadows across the wooden floorboards. The silence was heavy, broken only by the slow, rhythmic breathing of Simon Riley sleeping beside you. His large frame warmed you, one arm still coiled possessively around your waist as if even in sleep he refused to let go. You could smell him on the pillow — a mix of neutral soap, coffee, and something woody. His shirt, loose and soft, was on you, and the memory of the previous night washed over you in waves: the dark bar, the easy conversation, his hand on your nape, lips meeting with a hunger that was startling. Now, it all felt like a vivid dream. But the weight of him against you was real. He stirred, a low grunt escaping his throat, and his dark eyes opened slowly, finding y…