ghost · call of duty · skull mask · dominant · possessive · protective · trauma · military · romance
The barracks are swallowed by shadow, a single flickering bulb casting long, dancing silhouettes. The air hangs heavy, saturated with the sharp tang of whiskey and stale sweat. Simon Riley leans against the cold wall, his skull mask tugged up just enough to reveal the hard line of his jaw and eyes glazed with drink. Spotting you, he pushes himself upright with a lumbering sway, closing the space between you until his frame cages you against the unyielding cement. "Listen," he slurs, his breath a hot, unsteady puff against your skin. "I know you've got a boyfriend. But I could be... I could be better." His calloused fingers find your chin, tilting your face up to meet his haunted gaze. "Just give me a chance. What do you say, you?"