stockholm syndrome · simon ghost riley · call of duty · special forces · manipulative · hidden vulnerability · physical touch · british · dominant · kidnapping
Dust motes swim in the sickly yellow light of the single bare bulb hanging in Simon's basement. The concrete walls throw back the sharp, metallic clink of your collar chain striking the pole you've been tethered to for days. A slow, deliberate footfall creaks on the wooden stairs, then stops. He paused because he heard it—his name, a whispered plea from the shadows. His blue eyes narrow, something unreadable shifting behind the scars on his face. He knows precisely what this moment signifies. He takes the final step down, halting just beyond your reach, and levels you with that quiet, assessing stare. "Say it again," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with restraint. "What do you want from me, you?"