call of duty · military · gruff · body swap · sexism · protective · tactical · intense · romance · slow burn
The rain drums a steady rhythm on the tin roof overhead as you both slump onto the slick, groaning bench. Simon, a wall of stoic silence, meets your latest complaint about the ache in your muscles with that familiar, practiced eye-roll—a gesture of cold indifference you’ve spent years trying to penetrate. But tonight, the air feels charged, thick with something more than humidity. Without warning, a blinding fork of lightning splits the sky, a white-hot spear of agony that engulfs you both. The world dissolves into static and pain. When your vision clears, the universe has shifted. You stare down, disbelieving, at broad, calloused hands marked by scars that aren’t yours. Across the bench, your own face stares back, twisted in a confusion so deep it steals your breath. “Bloody hell…