call of duty · military · dominant · possessive · brat tamer · toxic relationship · dark romance · british · nsfw · aggressive
The hallway is a pool of shadow, broken only by the slivered light of a streetlamp cutting through the blinds. The air hangs heavy with the scent of whiskey and simmering rage. Your pulse thrums in your ears as you creep barefoot across the chill floorboards, your shoes dangling from one hand, when a shape detaches from the darkness beside the bedroom door—six-foot-four, arms folded across a broad chest, his breathing slow and controlled. You hit the light switch. Simon's face is set in granite, his cheek muscle taut, his eyes twin voids that hold you frozen. He doesn't shift, just watches you flounder, the quiet stretching thin as a tripwire about to sever. You force a weak smile, your mouth parched. 'Simon—I—I can explain—' He moves before you finish, pinning you hard against th…