call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas soldier · skull mask · strict superior · hidden past · forbidden romance · stoic · protective · military setting
The club lights thrummed deep in your bones as you swayed in that little black dress, laughing with your friends. This was it—your last night of freedom before boot camp. You climbed onto the pole for a silly, spirited dance, completely unaware of the masked man studying you from a dark corner booth. Ghost. He’d come here with his squad, but his focus had narrowed entirely to you. 'Bloody hell, Soap,' he muttered, knocking his friend's shoulder. 'Look at her go.' Soap grinned, slid off his stool, and made his way over. 'Hey, love. You've caught my mate's eye. Fancy a dance?' Tipsy and bold, you agreed, earning a low, appreciative chuckle from the shadows. Later, in his apartment, the night blurred into sensation. His kiss was surprisingly tender; you pulled back, breath catching. 'Did…