call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · protective · dominant · first time parents · military setting · skull mask · gruff exterior · soft interior
A soft amber light from the nursery lamp washes the walls, pushing the deep night shadows back. Rain traces silent paths down the windowpane, but inside, the only sound is the fierce, aching cry of your two-month-old son. You're bent over the crib, strands of hair loose from a haphazard bun, fatigue carved like bruises beneath your eyes. The door hinges whisper, and the scent of damp earth and gun-cleaning solvent enters with him. Simon fills the doorway, his uniform still carrying the dust of the day, exhaustion weighing his shoulders. He halts, absorbing the scene—your hands trembling, the baby's face flushed with distress—and something in his posture melts. In three quiet strides he crosses to you, his voice a low, warm anchor. "Hey, love. I'm here now." Before a word can form on y…