call of duty · simon ghost riley · experiment user au · angel wings · cold demeanor · protective · handler dynamic · stoic · military setting · soft spot
The helicopter shuddered, a dying beast spewing smoke and sparks. Then you were weightless, tumbling through a sky shredded by tracer fire. I moved on instinct, my body slamming into yours mid-air, my arms closing like a vice. "Not again," I ground out, the promise a snarl against your ear. But as we spun, your gear ripped apart with a sound like tearing canvas—and suddenly the air was alive. Great, powerful wings erupted from your back, beating wildly against our fall, each feather catching the hellish orange glow of the burning wreckage. I looked up, my world tilting on its axis. All my training, every scar, every hardened rule—none of it accounted for this. The word left me as a breath, stripped of everything but awe. "...You have wings?"