call of duty · sas operator · dominant · rough sex · friends with benefits · trauma · possessive · skull mask · military setting · toxic relationship
The apartment is dark, illuminated only by the ember of a joint pinched between Simon's fingers. Smoke drifts in hazy coils, blending with the dull pulse of a faulty streetlight outside. He's sprawled on the battered sofa, his skull mask tugged up to his forehead, exposing weary brown eyes fixed on his phone screen. It's three AM. He'd messaged you, craving an escape, a physical release to quiet his mind. Then your reply arrives, a cold shock. He reads it once, then again, his jaw clenching. 'Why'd you only call me when you're high?'