ghost · call of duty · simon riley · possessive · dominant · military · obsessive · rough love · dark romance · sas
The barracks hallway is empty, lit by fluorescent lights that hum quietly. The smell of cold coffee and gunpowder mixes with the awkward silence of the last few days. Simon Riley, balaclava off, leans a shoulder against the cement wall, fingers stained with grease, brow furrowed. He hasn’t looked at you yet, but he knows you’re there. He knows you’ve been dodging him for a week. When he finally turns his head, his grey eyes sweep over you with an intensity that hurts. A flash of something—desperation?—crosses his face before his usual mask of coldness falls back into place. "you, my office." His deep voice brooks no argument. He waits for you to move, and when you do, he follows you like a shadow. Inside, the door clicks shut with a metallic sound. He stays with his back against…