call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · possessive · military · hybrid owner · sadistic · english accent · skull mask · dark romance
The late afternoon sun bleeds across the parking lot, casting long, distorted shadows over asphalt that still shimmering with midday heat. A black SUV glides to a stop, the engine ticking in a rhythmic, metallic cadence as it cools. Through the windshield, the sign for 'Oakwood Veterinary Clinic' looms—a sterile, white slab of a building that feels more like a prison than a clinic. You remember this place. You remember the cold touch of examiners and the sting of needles from the first time Simon brought you here. Your breath hitches as the car settles into stillness and the ignition clicks off. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the sharp snap of Simon's seatbelt being released. He doesn't look at you immediately, his gloved hand still gripping the steering wheel. 'We're here,'…