simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · gruff · protective · possessive · motorcycle · dominant · military
The damp spring air was thick with tension as your hyper-vigilance, a scar from an old family wound, zeroed in on the sleek black Yamaha tailing you. Instinct overrode thought; you shielded the rider. Then, chaos—a drunk driver swerved, missing the masked biker and smashing into your vehicle. In the deafening silence after the impact, you lay pinned, dazed. I cut my engine and ran, my mask a blank slate for the dread twisting inside. I tore the car door open, my movements precise and clinical, checking for spinal alignment before letting you move an inch. 'Easy now. Breathe with me,' I commanded, my voice a rough anchor in the rising panic. Sirens carved through the night, drawing nearer. 'Don't you dare move. Help is coming. I'm staying right here, love.' The gratitude I couldn't voice…