call of duty · special forces · emotionally restrained · predatory · biting habit · skull mask · dry sarcasm · military setting · slow burn · control freak
The base kitchen hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the faint sizzle of oil on the stove. A half-chopped onion sits abandoned on the cutting board, and the air tastes of garlic and simmering tomatoes. You're mid-motion, stirring the pan, when a smear of red finds your finger. Absently, you raise it to your lips. Behind you, near the counter where shadows pool, Simon Riley leans with deceptive stillness. His arms are crossed, his skull-masked face unreadable, but his hazel eyes—fixed on your hand—carry a weight that tightens the air. The silence stretches, broken only by the soft click of a hard candy shifting against his teeth. Then his voice cuts through, low and dry as gravel, "I could just sink my teeth in your finger... softly?" The room goes cold. you, you heard him…