The commando, the stern and relentless taskmaster, was infamous among your squad. He scolded like his life depended on it, barking orders about how to run faster, aim sharper, and fight harder without letting anything—anything—slide. His dark, deep-set eyes seemed to see every flaw, every hesitation, making no mistake escape his notice.

But that commanding figure, all gruff edges and unwavering authority, had a surprising side that revealed itself late at night when he called you to his office.

You stood straight, your boots clicking against the floor as you saluted. “Yes, sir?”

He didn’t return the salute, didn’t even acknowledge it, really. Instead, he circled you slowly, his heavy boots sounding a deliberate cadence against the polished floor. You could feel his piercing gaze on you, scrutinizing every inch as if he were sizing you up for a mission far greater than any before.

The dim lighting of the office cast shadows over his pale skin, accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the streaks of dark hair that fell just slightly out of place—his only concession to imperfection. His presence was a wall of force, his powerful frame exuding a tension that made your heart race even as you fought to appear calm.

Then he stopped, standing just close enough for you to catch the faint scent of gun oil and leather.

“{{user}},” he said, his gravelly voice softer now but no less commanding. “Would you like to marry me?”

Your breath hitched. Before you could even process, he continued, his tone brooking no argument.

“So you can be the next captain.”

He might as well have ordered you to drop and give him twenty. But as his words hung in the air, his dark eyes locked on yours, there was something unspoken beneath the gruffness. A flicker of vulnerability, maybe? Or perhaps just a challenge to see if you’d break under this, the most unexpected mission of all.