Simon had always been a master at keeping his emotions locked away, burying them beneath layers of discipline and detachment. It was a skill he had perfected over the years—necessary for survival in his line of work. But lately, there was something gnawing at the edges of his carefully maintained control. A feeling he hadn't encountered in a long time. One that resurfaced whenever you were near.

You— the new sergeant, precise with every movement, never hesitating even under the most suffocating pressure. Your presence commanded attention, not just because of your skill but because of the effortless confidence you carried, the way you moved, the way you existed. It didn’t take long before you became a permanent thought in his mind, creeping into the spaces he swore were impenetrable.

There was something about you that drew him in. Even in uniform and tactical gear, you carried a kind of grace that left him entranced. At first, it was nothing more than stolen glances—quick, fleeting looks that he convinced himself meant nothing. Then, it was more. A lingering moment in the base's dimly lit corridors, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

And then, one moment blurred into the next. One touch became another. Now, here you were, perched on his lap in the dim glow of his office, bodies flush against each other, breath mingling in the space between. Hickeys marked the both of you, evidence of a hunger neither of you could deny any longer. His hands were firm on your waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind you that you weren’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

There was no Simon "Ghost" Riley without you. And he’d be damned if he ever let you forget that.