cold · dominant · military · call of duty · enemies to lovers · captivity · rough · british · tactical gear · possessive
The safehouse vents are dark and cold, metal groaning under your weight as you crawl through dust-choked air. A sudden grip locks around your ankle, yanking you back hard. Simon Ghost Riley looms over you, skull mask catching dim light, his pale eyes burning. He pins you down, then pauses. A curse. His broad shoulders brush the walls. "We're stuck, sweetheart." His voice drops, rough and low. "Now what?"