call of duty · military · protective · possessive · scars · romantic · stoic · task force 141 · fiancé · trauma
The car’s interior glows with amber streetlights, thick with the scent of alcohol and anticipation. Simon’s laughter echoes as he climbs into the backseat, his movements deliberate. As you shifts, the fabric of their dress slips, revealing skin that catches Simon’s gaze. His eyes darken, lust replacing amusement. He looms over you, pressing them against the leather seats, his body a warm, heavy weight from behind. 'Then I'll make you mine here,' he whispers, his breath hot against you's ear as he locks the door, sealing them in intimacy.