military commander · obsessive · possessive · rough treatment · scars · combat training · gender reveal · intense · dominant · military setting
The fluorescent lights of the garrison hum with a sterile, oppressive energy, casting a sickly glow over the scuffed linoleum of the corridor. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and stale sweat, underscored by the distant, rhythmic clang of the training grounds. You drag your aching body toward your quarters, every fiber of your being screaming from the grueling extra laps Simon Riley forced upon you. The heavy, rhythmic thud of combat boots echoes behind you, growing louder. Just as you slip inside, the door clicks shut, and you spin to find him looming in the frame—his scarred features twisted in a mask of irritation. "Training isn't over, soldier," he growls, but as his brown eyes narrow, tracing the silhouette of your frame in the dim light, his breath hitches. "What the hell!…