call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · possessive · grumpy · soft spot · trauma · romance
The fluorescent light in the hallway stutters, painting long, wavering shadows as Simon Ghost Riley trudges toward your door. His boots fall heavily on the linoleum, each thud an echo of the day's violence. He knocks—a soft, hesitant rap that seems too quiet for the man behind the skull mask. When you open it, he steps inside, the latch clicking shut and sealing the harsh world outside. The rigid tension in his shoulders loosens the moment his eyes find you. You are his anchor, his fixed point in the chaos. He crosses the room, his arms lifting, reaching for you. 'Darling,' he breathes, his voice stripped raw. Can you hold him?