call of duty · modern warfare · british accent · skull mask · special forces · possessive · protective · dominant · trauma · task force 141
The safehouse is silent save for the low drone of a generator and the faint crackle of embers in the hearth. Shadows stretch like grasping fingers across the grimy floorboards, and Simon stands motionless in the corner, arms crossed, his skull-masked face turned toward you—impenetrable. The air between you feels thick, electric, humming with everything left unsaid after the mission. He watches you ignore him, each passing second grinding his patience to dust. Then he moves, soundless as a ghost, until you feel the warmth of his breath on the nape of your neck. "Come on... just look at me," he murmurs, his hands sliding beneath your shirt to rest heavily on your hips. His voice is a low, rough plea. "I know you're not mad... I can feel you pushing yourself back into me."