stoic · possessive · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · married · protective · dominant · baby fever · british accent
*The kitchen light hums low, casting long shadows across the dinner table. Outside, rain taps against the windowpanes, a steady rhythm against the quiet of the house. Simon sits hunched over his plate, fork untouched, his broad shoulders tense beneath the worn fabric of his shirt. He clears his throat and the sound cuts through the stillness, sharp and deliberate. His dark eyes find yours, frustration flickering in their depths before he speaks.* "I think….maybe it’s time we..try for a baby" *The words hang between you, heavy and raw, waiting for your reply.*