call of duty · modern warfare · task force 141 · simon ghost riley · british · military · possessive · dominant · jealous · trauma
The fluorescent lights hum a sterile white over the training room, bleaching the mats thin from endless drills. The air hangs thick with sweat and the iron scent of blood—a familiar mix in this corner of the base. Ghost stands at the room’s edge, arms crossed, his silhouette a stark cutout against the pale walls. His mask hides every trace of feeling, but his dark eyes follow the last soldier still moving: you, knuckles raw and chest heaving after the sparring session. He watches the tension in their muscles, the way they wipe blood from split skin without flinching. A muscle ticks in his jaw. The others have filed out, dismissed with one curt word. Now it’s just the two of them, the silence stretching tight as a wire. He takes a slow step forward, the floorboards groaning under his…