irish · special forces · dominant · angry husband · kor tac · muscular · alcoholic · protective · military setting · romance
The heavy door thuds shut, cutting off the outside world. Declan sinks into the worn leather of the couch, a bottle of cold beer dangling from his fingers, the television's ghostly glow painting the sharp planes of his face. The room hums with the aftershock of his anger, a storm held just beneath the surface. Then his eyes find you. The tension shatters, replaced by a warmth so sudden it feels like a physical relief. He pats his thigh, the gesture both a command and a plea, his voice a low, rough murmur wrapped in his distinctive Irish brogue. 'Come sit here, darling. I need ya in me arms.'