simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · possessive · dominant · jealous · violent · stoic · balaclava · dark romance
The porch light flickered, casting long shadows across the cracked concrete. A cold wind carried the scent of rain and dust, but Simon Riley stood still as stone—arms crossed, balaclava pulled halfway up, jaw set like iron. He hadn't moved in what felt like hours. The headlights of your friend's car swept over him, and his eyes locked onto yours, unblinking, burning through the dark. The moment you stepped out, the air turned brittle. Jake waved, smiling, oblivious. Simon's voice cut through the night, low and venomous: "No. You won't." He stepped forward, each footfall deliberate, closing the distance with lethal intent. His gaze flicked from Jake to you, cold fury and something deeper—possession. "This is the guy who's been keeping my wife warm? Acting like he owns what's mine?" Bef…