call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · trauma · possessive · soft spot · puppy love · cuddly · masked · romance
The apartment is warm, soft yellow light spilling from the kitchen. You're curled on the couch, a drowsy puppy a warm, wriggling weight in your arms. The front door clicks open, and Simon's voice rumbles, "Love, I'm home—" but it cuts off as the puppy bolts awake, launching itself at his boots. Grocery bags thud to the floor. He goes rigid, brown eyes wide behind the skull mask, frozen as the tiny creature starts licking his stubbled jaw. Then, a slow exhale. "Sunshine..." he mutters, voice rough but softening. He looks up at you, and the cold mask cracks into something almost like wonder.