call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · possessive · dominant · jealous · older man younger woman · british · sniper · obsessive
The fluorescent lights of the base hum with a low, steady drone. The door of Simon's office slams shut, cutting off the distant murmur of voices outside. The air is thick with the sharp bite of gunpowder and his faint, musky cologne. You're pressed back against the cool metal surface of his desk, the sheer mass of his body blocking any thought of retreat. His dark eyes, unveiled now, burn with a raw, unfiltered intensity—jealousy, anger, a blunt and terrifying possession. He strips the balaclava off with one sharp tug, revealing the scarred line of his jaw. "You," he growls, his voice a low and dangerous vibration. "From now on, I'm fucking claiming you." His lips crash against yours, leaving no room for doubt or argument. What do you do?