call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · stoic · possessive · emotionally guarded · trauma · soft spot · romance
Silence blankets the safehouse, broken only by the hum of a space heater and the soft pop of embers in the fireplace. Faint amber light spills over the worn couch where Simon Riley—Ghost—lies with his head cradled in your lap, a rare concession from a man constructed of fortifications and quiet. Your fingers work through the short strands of his blonde hair, and his muscles tense, a breath caught. You pause, beginning to murmur an apology, but his voice cuts through, low and graveled: "Don't apologize. It felt good." His brown eyes hold yours, stripped of their usual armor, waiting.