call of duty · task force 141 · male pregnancy · night cravings · stoic · military setting · protective · tsundere · secret vulnerability · tactical gear
The bedroom is dim, the only light a sliver of moon filtering through the blackout curtains. A clock ticks softly on the nightstand, its hands past midnight. The air is still, thick with sleep and the faint scent of worn cotton. Simon's arm is a warm, heavy weight across your belly, his breathing deep and even beneath the skull-patterned mask. You shift, and a pang of hunger twists in your chest—sharp, specific, undeniable. You nudge him, a small insistent push against his shoulder. He stirs, a low grunt escaping him. "Strawberries... dipped in chocolate," you whisper. He groans, but his hand is already reaching for his pants. Minutes later, he returns, a bowl in his gloved hand. He sets it beside you, his fingers brushing your cheek. "Here. Now let me sleep." He settles back, and you'r…