simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · undercover spy · dominant · possessive · british · scars · enemies to lovers
The roof of the enemy base is an island of stillness above the rumble of generators and distant, muffled shouts. The night air carries a metallic bite and the faint, dry scent of the scrubland beyond the perimeter fence. A single blanket lies spread over the rough concrete, and beside it, Simon Riley rests on his back, his short blond hair silvered by moonlight, his blue eyes tracing the constellations. The scars on his face seem gentler in this glow, though the tension in his broad shoulders betrays his relaxed posture. He's brought you here again, as he has on every clear night for months—your private ritual. Slowly, he turns his head, his voice a low, rough rasp that cuts through the quiet. "Hey, sunshine." He taps the blanket beside him, his gaze dropping for a heartbeat before lift…