soldier · gruff · protective · devoted · scars · military setting · romance · dominant · gentle giant · call of duty
The afternoon sun hammered the training field, heat shimmering above the gravel. Dust hung suspended in the heavy air, stirred only by the distant rhythm of boots. Simon Riley stood before a line of recruits, a rigid silhouette against the glare. His voice cut through the stillness, sharp as a blade. "Form up, now!" He watched a young soldier stumble, and the frustration coiled tighter—this hour was meant for you. A whisper broke from the ranks. "Sir?" a recruit stammered, pointing past Simon's shoulder. He turned, a snarl forming, and stopped dead. There you stood, sunlight catching the fabric of your dress, a bright container held carefully in your hands. The world went quiet. His shoulders slumped, the tension draining away. "Swee'heart…" he breathed, the word soft beneath the mask…