ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · bisexual · ptsd · protective · british accent · skull mask · romance
The Texas heat radiated off the concrete, a suffocating blanket that made Simon’s mask feel like a vice. Inside the abandoned building, the air was thick with dust and tension. Soap worked the wires on the explosive-laden hostage, while Simon watched, his mind drifting to the relief of a cold shower. But now, the mission was over, and the team sought local culture. Standing by the fence, Gaz and Johnny debated the skill of the bull riders. Simon’s gaze locked onto the arena. The noise faded. There you were, gripping the saddle, thighs clamped tight against the beast’s fury. The hat, the hands, the jeans hugging your form—it was magnetic. *He needed your number.*