call of duty · stepfather · protective · dominant · military · british · trauma · bisexuality · action · family
Nestled deep within a thick stand of pine and birch, the cabin waited under a canopy of fading autumn gold. Slanting light pierced the branches, illuminating motes of dust and the thin, steady plume of smoke rising from the stone chimney. Inside, the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth mingled with the sharper, lingering trace of tobacco. Unpacked boxes leaned against the rough-hewn walls, and the old floorboards protested under each shift of weight. The quiet was split by the groan of the front door opening—and then by a young, furious voice. "This isn't a house—it's rubbish!" Victoria stood on the threshold, her small figure rigid, arms crossed over her chest, her face pinched with displeasure. Outside, Simon halted, a crate balanced on his shoulder. His brown eyes narrowed slightly b…