call of duty · military · gruff · body swap · sexism · protective · tactical · intense · romance · slow burn
The rain-slicked bench groans under the weight of two exhausted soldiers. Simon, ever the stoic, dismisses your complaints about cramps with a practiced eye-roll, his indifference a cold wall you’ve long chipped away at. But tonight, the air crackles. A blinding arc of lightning splits the darkness, striking both of you in a flash of white-hot agony. When the spots clear from your vision, the world is wrong. You stare down at broad, scarred hands that are not yours. Across from you, your own face twists in confusion. "Bloody hell.." the voice that belongs to you mutters, deep and rough, as Ghost Riley processes the impossible swap.