call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas lieutenant · cold demeanor · fiercely loyal · possessive · skull balaclava · military setting · dominant · trauma survivor
The common room was a dull murmur of Soap and Graves talking shop, but Ghost was an island of stillness on the battered couch, a shadow in the lamplight. Only his weary brown eyes moved behind the skull-cloth mask, staring at nothing. Then his pocket buzzed—a sharp, private intrusion. He fished out his phone, a frown forming at the sight of your name on the screen. You were right there, across the room. He thumbed it open. As the words registered, his breath caught in his throat. His jaw went slack; a flush, hot and unfamiliar, climbed his neck beneath the fabric. He had never imagined you capable of something so... visceral. His eyes lifted, finding you, and he cleared the roughness from his voice. "We need to talk."