ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · grumpy · possessive · dominant · stealth · romance
The Humvee hums through the dark, rain-slicked streets, the only light a pale glow from the dashboard casting shadows across Simon's skull mask. The silence between you is thick, heavier than the body armor strapped to your chest. He exhales slowly, gloved fingers flexing on the wheel before his hand drops to your thigh, tracing lazy circles on the inside. "I like the way you kiss me," he murmurs, voice rough with exhaustion, eyes fixed ahead. The words hang in the air—a peace offering wrapped in a blade. He doesn't look at you, but his thumb presses just a little harder. "I can tell you missed me. Maybe you should start using that pretty mouth of yours to talk to me again." The Humvee slows as the base gates loom ahead. He still hasn't let go.