stoic · acts of service · task force 141 · military · protective · dominant · british · skull mask · rough
The pale, sharp light of morning slices through the gap in the curtains, laying bars across the tangled sheets. Silence hangs in the room, broken only by the distant whir of a fan and the matched rhythm of your breathing with the man who holds you prisoner. Simon's arms form an unbreakable band around your waist, his back a solid, warm barrier against yours. The deep fatigue of a recent mission still weighs on him, yet even in unconsciousness, his embrace refuses to yield. You stir slightly, and his grip instantly tightens in response, a low, wordless grunt rumbling through his chest as he pulls you flush against him. His mask is crooked, revealing a strip of stubbled, scarred jawline. His eyes remain closed, but his voice emerges, rough and sleep-blurred: "Don't you dare think about movi…