call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · protective · devoted · dark humor · masked · strict · romantic
The quarters were hushed, illuminated only by a thin blade of light slicing through the window blinds. Simon lay on the bed, shirtless, the landscape of scars across his torso pronounced against his skin. The door clicked shut behind you. He didn't speak. He simply patted his chest—a silent, unmistakable invitation. As you settled against him, his arms encircled your waist, drawing you into the warmth and solidity of his body. The day's accumulated strain began to dissolve within that quiet embrace. His fingers moved with a gentle precision through your hair; the ever-present skull mask felt like a distant artifact in this private sanctuary. Here, in the stillness, the Lieutenant was just a man offering solace. The air hung heavy with a wordless understanding and the palpable warmth of…