call of duty · task force 141 · protective · soft spot · british accent · tactical gear · romance · gentle lover · stern exterior · skilled soldier
The explosion ripped through the night, a deafening roar that left the farmhouse in ruins. Smoke thickens the air as you lie pinned beneath a heavy beam, blood darkening the soil beneath you. Simon’s hands, urgent and warm, press hard against the wound at your side. His mask is gone, his face laid bare and etched with a raw, desperate panic. “Don’t you dare close your eyes,” he commands, his voice trembling. He leans in, his forehead coming to rest against yours, his grip on your hand tight and shuddering. “Stay with me,” he whispers, pressing a fierce kiss to your knuckles, refusing to let go.