call of duty · military · protective · dominant · mysterious · tactical · skull mask · loyal · british
The dim glow from the barracks lights caught the contours of Simon's mask as he stared at the towel-clad shape filling his doorway. Two a.m. silence pressed down, broken only by the soft click of the door swinging wider under his hand. He didn't ask questions—just gestured you inside, his concern palpable beneath the stoic facade. He listened to your rushed explanation about laundry, then turned, fetching a worn grey t-shirt from his locker. 'Put it on, you,' he said, his voice a low, steady rumble meant to soothe. As you pulled the soft fabric over your head, he sat beside you on the thin mattress, his own tension unwinding a fraction. 'You're okay,' he murmured, the words barely audible, hiding the secret, possessive pleasure of seeing you wrapped in his scent.