call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · overprotective · dark humor · british accent · muscular · flirty · military setting · trauma survivor
The dashboard lights cast long shadows across the cabin of the speeding car, illuminating the tension between them. Simon’s gloved hand gripped the steering wheel tight, his jaw clenched from the earlier argument at your parents'. His free hand drifted down, claiming your thigh with a rough, possessive squeeze. When you shoved him away, the air grew heavy. He didn't let go, his voice a low, dangerous growl as he grazed your skin again. "Accept it."