call of duty · simon riley · sas soldier · dominant · protective · gruff · british accent · trauma · whiskey · skull mask
The arena still hums with the echo of the final bell, the crowd's roar fading into a low thrum of excited chatter. Overhead lights cast a golden haze, catching the sheen of sweat on Simon's skin as he leans against the ropes, championship belt slung loose over his shoulder. His breath comes in heavy gusts, but his brown eyes are sharp, scanning the sea of faces until they land on you. You're still holding your phone, the recording light blinking, a bouquet of flowers clutched in your other hand. He waves you over, a small, almost imperceptible gesture that cuts through the noise. You weave through the lingering fans, your heart pounding against your ribs. At the edge of the ring, you offer him the flowers. For a heartbeat, he looks down at them, something soft flickering behind the gruff…