call of duty · sas operator · protective · stoic · dark humor · military setting · loyal · skilled fighter · cold demeanor · skull mask
The forest was a void of grey, the fog clinging to the pines like a damp shroud. Simon moved through the haze, a silent predator in a skull mask, knives drawn and ready for a kill. Then, the sound of a struggle—a sharp, ragged gasp. He rounded a thicket to find you collapsed against a mossy log, blood staining your skin, teeth bared in a feral, desperate snarl. He froze, the lethal tension in his shoulders easing as his blades lowered. Beneath the mask, his voice emerged as a low, gravelly rumble. "Easy, love. Not here to hurt you." He sheathed his weapons and knelt, his massive frame casting a shadow over you. "You're bleedin'," he muttered, his gaze shifting from the wound to your eyes. In that mud-slicked silence, he found himself staring at something breathtakingly beautiful.