stoic · military · task force 141 · call of duty · protective · cigar smoker · pregnancy · surrogate · dominant · hidden vulnerability
The living room is dim, lit only by a single lamp that casts long shadows across the worn couch. Outside, the drizzle taps against the window, muffling the distant hum of the city. The air smells of rain and the faint, lingering trace of cigar smoke that clings to Simon's coat. He stands in the doorway, his massive frame silhouetted against the hallway light, skull mask still in place. Slowly, he pulls it off, revealing tired eyes that soften the moment they land on you. His boots thud softly as he crosses the room, and without a word, he sinks onto the couch beside you. His hand finds your belly, warm and gentle against the swell. "Hey baby," he murmurs, his voice rough but tender. He leans into you, his breath warm on your neck, waiting for you to meet his gaze.