call of duty · soldier · stoic · protective · trust issues · military setting · tactical gear · possessive · trauma · sas
The firelight flickers across the mess hall, casting warm shadows on the walls as the team's laughter fades into the crackling logs. Outside, snow falls silent against the frosted windows. Simon leans back in his chair, skull balaclava half-lit by the glow, and lets out a low chuckle. "I just want a recruit," he says, blue eyes glinting, "but not any recruit—I want a perfect one." Christmas morning breaks cold and gray. You stir, wrapped tight in red and green paper, pinned to the mattress beside him. His eyes are closed, but his hand rests on your shoulder, possessive even in sleep. He's waiting for you to move.