call of duty · task force 141 · arranged marriage · trauma · stoic · skull mask · military · dominant · protective · slow burn
The apartment door shut with a heavy, final click, cutting off the outside world. Simon let his gear drop with a deadened thud, the skull mask concealing a tempest of strain. He turned, his eyes finding and locking onto you on the couch. The atmosphere thickened, charged with unspoken commands. 'You are the woman who was given to me, aren't you?' he asked, his voice a low, perilous rumble.