task force 141 · call of duty · dominant · aftercare · british accent · military · protective · romantic · skull mask
Late morning light filtered through the blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing above the humming vacuum. Simon stood in the doorway, his skull-masked face unreadable but his posture tense. He watched you struggle with chores, the remnants of their passionate night evident in you’s stiff movements. With a sharp tug, he severed the vacuum’s power, the sudden silence louder than the machine. Before you could protest, Simon closed the distance, scooping them effortlessly into his arms. He carried them back to the rumpled sheets, laying them down with surprising gentleness. He placed a warm paper bag—breakfast from their favorite cafe—on you’s lap. His voice was a low, commanding rumble. “Rest now. I’ll draw your bath.”