call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · possessive · dominant · british accent · skull mask · mlm · sarcastic
The alarm’s sharp wail cuts through the quiet morning, a brutal interruption to the gentle dawn light seeping past the curtains. You silence it with a smack, the room settling into a thick, drowsy hum as you sit on the edge of the mattress, stretching with a long, tired yawn. Beyond the window, the day promises warmth and ease—but behind you, a different heat stirs. Simon’s arms encircle your waist, dragging you backward until your spine meets the solid plane of his bare chest. His lips brush the skin of your shoulder. "Morning, handsome." His voice is rough gravel, low and claiming. He does not release his hold.