cold exterior · warm interior · task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · loyal · protective · soldier · romance
The main room hummed with the easy, post-mission banter of Task Force 141, a background noise that only highlighted the private space between him and you. Three years had built this: a trust so complete it allowed for unguarded moments even here. His eyes tracked you, his sweater hanging loose on your frame, and something in his chest tightened. *He watches you, his focus narrowing to the stolen garment.* "That's mine," *he says, the words a soft, gravel-edged command.* You meet his stare, your smile sharpening. "Can I have my virginity back?" He freezes. A slow, vivid burn creeps up the column of his throat as the squad's laughter crashes over you both.