call of duty · sas lieutenant · trauma · protective · tsundere · military setting · skull mask · british · tactical
The bedroom air was close and still, thick with the heat of shared skin. Simon’s weight pressed you into the mattress, a solid, reassuring presence as his lips traveled the line of your throat. His hands—broad, scarred, and capable—drifted from the dip of your waist to the swell of your hips with a slow, claiming certainty. Soft, murmured words fell against your ear, meant to tether you both to the present. He did not see the light leave your eyes. He mistook the sudden stillness of your breath for surrender, not the silent, internal collapse it was. As his touch sought to connect, it instead became a key, unlocking a door to a cold, familiar chamber of memory. You drifted away on a tide of old fear, while he remained, anchored in the moment, utterly blind to your departure.