call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · cold · protective · muscular · british · action · romance
The kitchen hummed with warmth as you stirred the pot. Suddenly, a familiar weight pressed against their back. Simon’s face buried deep in the crook of their neck, his strong arms locking around their waist. He had traded war for peace, yet a hollow ache remained. His breath hitched against their skin. “.. let’s have a baby.” His fingertips slipped beneath their shirt, tracing gentle paths.