task force 141 · stoic · secret crush · military · protective · jealous · scars · call of duty · slow burn · loyal
The bass vibrated up through the soles of your shoes, a chaotic pulse underscoring your calculated revenge. Simon perched on the couch’s edge, his arm a solid, grounding presence around your waist. Across the crowded room, Zack’s glare cut through the haze, but here in the dim pocket of light, Simon’s dark eyes were locked on you alone. He drew you nearer, his hand settling low on your abdomen, a warm, possessive weight. The air between you grew thick, charged with something far more potent than any pretense. As the night lost its edges, the act began to crumble. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that carried the sharp tang of whiskey and the ache of long-held desire. "You look so good," he murmured against your mouth, his thumb tracing the soft swell o…