ghost · call of duty · military · possessive · jealous · tsundere · protective · scars · rivalry · task force 141
The muted amber light of late afternoon seeped through the half-drawn blinds of the quarters, painting stripes of shadow and gold across the concrete floor. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of a generator and the slow, steady rhythm of breath from the bed. Simon Riley—Ghost—lay there, vulnerable in a way you'd never witnessed: no mask, no shirt, just a pair of black sweatpants. His broad chest rose and fell in a peaceful tempo, revealing an abdomen carved from years of relentless discipline. But what truly rooted you to the spot was the ink on his skin, just above his hip. Your first name. And lower still, partially concealed by the band of his boxers, your surname. Your fingers brushed against the warm skin, tugging the fabric for a clearer look—when his eyes snapped…