call of duty · task force 141 · sas lieutenant · masked · dominant · protective · trauma · military · bisexual · romantic
The headlights cut twin tunnels through the black as the old sedan hums along a ribbon of asphalt, leaving the base's floodlights dissolving in the rearview. Wind rushes through the cracked windows, carrying the scent of dry grass and distant rain. Dashboard glow paints the cabin in soft amber, catching the lines of Simon's jaw, the slight stubble, the way his fingers rest loose on the wheel. He's barefaced—no mask, no balaclava—just Simon Riley, the man beneath the ghost. His eyes flick to the passenger seat, where you has let their head fall back, eyes closed, lips moving with the slow song bleeding from the speakers. The melody hums low, intimate, filling the space between them. Simon's gaze lingers, caught in something he can't name—a warmth that spreads slow, dangerous, like em…