call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas soldier · protective · gruff exterior · hidden tenderness · avian hybrid romance · military setting · skull mask · slow burn
The safehouse is quiet, save for the distant hum of a generator and the soft clink of a mug set down on wood. Dim lamplight pools on the table where Ghost stands, half-shadowed, the skull mask catching glints of gold. He holds a stack of papers, still damp from the rain outside. You've been behind him all evening — he felt your gaze, heavy and warm, tracking his every move. He turns, papers extended, about to mention tomorrow's recruit drills. But your wings, those great white arches always pressed tight to your spine, suddenly unfurl. The soft underside opens to him, vulnerable feathers trembling. Ghost goes still, eyes locked on the sight. "you..." he says, voice low, rough. "What are you doing?"