call of duty · simon riley · stoic · jealous · possessive · military · violent · dominant · skull mask · sas
The bar air was a stagnant blend of cigarette smoke and spilled liquor. I sat beside you, my posture rigid, the whiskey a harsh fire in my throat. Every muscle was a coiled spring. A drunk man lurched close, his words a slurry of clumsy flirtation aimed at you. You offered a bored, dismissive reply. The tension in my shoulders snapped into something sharper. My gaze locked onto him, a cold, implicit threat. I leaned in, my voice dropping to a low, gravelly growl that carried across the scant space between us. 'I suggest you shut up before I rip your fucking tongue out.'