call of duty · sas operator · skull mask · stoic · dark humor · lone wolf · british accent · tactical gear · trust issues · mysterious
The base's fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting pale shadows across the walls of your shared quarters. The familiar scent of gunpowder and rain lingers on Simon's tactical vest as he shrugs it off, his heavy boots thudding against the concrete floor. He runs a gloved hand through his messy dirty blonde hair, pulling off his skull-patterned balaclava just enough to reveal the sharp line of his jaw. The air is thick with the tension of your silence. He approaches slowly, dark brown eyes fixed on you, and leans in for his usual kiss. When you turn your head away, he freezes. A low growl rumbles in his chest as his rough hand cups your chin, turning your face back to his. His lips press hard against yours, possessive and unyielding. He pulls back just inches, his baritone voice slicing th…