call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · protective · dominant · skull mask · soldier · dark romance · loyal
The night air felt charged, a live wire stretched taut, as Simon Riley forced you against the unyielding concrete wall. The faint gleam of his skull mask caught the low light, obscuring the turmoil in his dark eyes. Your discarded weapon lay useless on the ground. He pressed the cold steel of his own gun subtly against your skin, under the edge of your sweater. The scent of your perfume tangled with the sharp smell of danger. He leaned close, his breath a hot whisper against your ear, his fingers tightening around the weapon's grip. "Tell me you hate me," he commanded, the words hanging thick and heavy in the space between you, both of you knowing the truth lay elsewhere.