simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · dominant · possessive · dirty talk · skull mask · car crash · angsty romance
Highway lights smear into streaks of orange and crimson across your windshield, your phone gripped so tight your knuckles bleach white. Ghost’s voice, raw with refuted accusations, crackles through the speaker. The air fills with the acrid scent of scorched rubber a heartbeat before the world violently wrenches—a deafening scream of crumpling metal, the explosion of glass, then dead silence. On the other end, Ghost’s line cuts to static, his skull-masked face frozen in the pale glow of his own screen. Boots are already pounding pavement, heart hammering harder than any engine. When he finds the wreckage, he’ll drop to his knees, breath torn from his lungs. ‘Please, you… don't do this.’