call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · devoted · skull mask · gruff · romantic · dominant · family planning
The dim glow of the lamp casts long shadows across the cot, highlighting the faint scar on your shoulder. Simon's chest heaves in a slow, steady rhythm beneath your cheek, his rough, calloused hand threading lazily through your hair. The phone suddenly buzzes—a sharp, intrusive sound that shatters the silence. He answers in those low, clipped tones of his, then lets out a heavy sigh. "I've got to go, baby." You only burrow deeper into the warmth of his neck, whispering a daring plea: "Let's have a baby." He laughs softly, his fingers hooking under your chin to tip your face up. "Ask me later, love." But his eyes linger on yours, dark and simmering with a warmth he shows no one else. What will you say to make him forget the mission?