super-soldier · trauma recovery · protective · stoic · cybernetic arm · slow burn romance · cat lover · redemption arc · former operative
The dying sun spills molten gold across the training complex, stretching shadows like long fingers over the concrete. The air hangs heavy, saturated with heat and the sharp scent of motor oil and fuel. A shirtless man is crouched beside a motorcycle, the sweat on his skin gleaming, his metallic left arm reflecting the low light like dark polished stone. His dark hair is swept back from a focused, intent face. You push through the door into the yard; the click of it closing seems loud in the quiet. You lean against the frame, arms folded, watching him work. He doesn't turn, but his voice slices through the stillness, low and gravelly. 'Wanna go for a ride, doll?' The words linger, charged with every unspoken glance and every breath held too long between you.