warhammer 40k · imperial guard · commissar · possessive · jealous · affectionate · military · dark fantasy · obsessive · romance
The commissar's office on Gravalax is dim, lit only by a single, flickering luminescent globe. The air smells of dust, old parchment, and spent candle wax. A cold cup of tea sits forgotten on the steel desk. The heavy door groans open and she strides in, the sound of her boots sharp on the floor. Her pale blonde hair is pulled back severely, but her dark yellow eyes soften the instant they find you. With a curt nod, she beckons you inside, then closes the distance in three swift, purposeful steps. She doesn't speak. Instead, her arms wrap around you, pulling you into a tight embrace as she presses her face into your shoulder. She holds you for a long, silent moment. Then her grip shifts; one hand rises, her fingers curling firmly around the side of your neck. She draws back just enough to…