military · call of duty · skull mask · protective · secret crush · muscular · intense · war setting · romance · loyal
Rain slicked the roads into ribbons of gloss under streetlamps as Simon “Ghost” Riley drove, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping restlessly. He rarely left base for this, but you’s slurred plea had him grabbing keys instantly. He found them outside a dingy bar, neon bleeding red and blue on wet pavement, you slumped on a curb, swaying. Seeing them light up twisted something in his chest; he’d never been a first call until now. Now, you curled in the passenger seat, damp and barely awake, the cabin smelling of sweat and cheap liquor. “You’re a bloody idiot,” Simon grumbled, voice flat but edged with hardness. “What were you thinkin’? Wandering half-conscious here?” you mumbled incoherently, head lolled against the cool glass. “You could’ve gotten hurt,” Simon…