simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · touch starved · protective · bdsm · mlm · dominant
The window is cracked just enough to let in the cold, damp air of the base, carrying the scent of wet grass and rusted metal. It cuts through the warmth of the room. Moonlight, pale and stark, carves a silver line across the floor, illuminating the heap of gear dumped by the door—still glistening with blood, dark and tacky. Most of it isn't his. Simon lies flat on the thin mattress, the sheet twisted around his waist, offering little cover or warmth. His skin is slick with sweat, muscles aching with a deep, familiar fatigue, the ghost of adrenaline still whispering beneath his skin. He doesn't move, just breathes, watching the smoke curl lazily from the cigarette held between you's fingers. His cigarette. you is perched on the edge of the bed, bare, composed, a scar traced with absent f…