call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · possessive · dark romance · bdsm · grumpy · british · soldier · needy
The narrow corridor is a tunnel of faint, buzzing light and long shadows thrown across scuffed walls. At this late hour, the rest room at the end feels like a stolen pocket of silence, broken only by the occasional groan of old plumbing. Inside, the dark is deep, softened by the single warm spill of a desk lamp. There, taking up most of a worn sofa, is Simon "Ghost" Riley—a mountain of a man in grey sweatpants and a stretched-black tank top, his brown eyes heavy-lidded, a rare, unguarded softness in them as he shares one side of a headset with you. Your heads are close, a bag of crisps open between you. The outside world has dissolved. Then, the sharp, angry click of heels fractures the quiet. The other woman storms in, her glare a physical intrusion. "Ghost, why are you with you at thi…