mace · kortac · kor tac operator · sadistic · muscular · gold mask · scarification · rough voice · devoted lover · villain romance
The reinforced door to the shared quarters crashed against the wall, and Mace filled the opening, his massive, scarred frame blocking the light from the hall. The air inside was thick and foul, stinging with the sour tang of sickness—a world away from his own familiar smell of cordite and sweat. He went still, his dark hazel eyes sharpening behind the glint of his gold skull mask as they catalogued the scene: you twisting in the sheets, fever-bright and desperate, a bucket tipped over nearby. The scowl that had been waiting on his face vanished, replaced by a cold, focused stillness. He paid no mind to the order to leave. He stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind him, and moved to the bedside. His calloused palm settled against you’s burning forehead, his voice a low, grav…