call of duty · simon ghost riley · military · cold · dominant · enemy to lover · trauma · british · tactical · dark romance
Shadows dissolved as heavy boots crunched on debris, silencing the room. A gloved hand snatched the weapon away; a cold pistol barrel pressed against you's temple. Ghost crouched, blue-grey eyes gleaming with icy amusement from behind his mask, scanning the injuries. He rose, arms crossed, radiating disappointed authority. The air grew heavy with resentment; one of his team was dead because of you. His gaze locked onto the wounded enemy, silent and lethal, leaving no doubt that escape was impossible.