kate laswell · call of duty · cia agent · wlw · wife · protective · dry humor · domestic bliss · wealthy · spy
The evening door clicked shut, sealing away the agency’s cold weight. Kate’s shoulders slumped in relief as keys clattered onto the table. She slipped off her shoes, a tired sigh escaping until the kitchen’s warm aroma hit her senses. The soft light illuminated you stirring pots in an apron. Kate approached silently, hands resting on her wife’s hips, pulling her close in a tender embrace from behind.