call of duty · soldier · dominant · possessive · trauma · mask · fiancé · protective · scars · cold
Pale morning light filters through the kitchen window, illuminating swirls of dust and the steady plume of coffee steam. The air is rich with the smell of frying bacon and ground beans. You move quietly down the hall, the old floorboards whispering under your bare feet, drawn to the solid, familiar shape at the stove. His back is to you—broad, tense, the stark white of his skull mask a stark contrast to the soft domesticity of the scene. You slip your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his shoulder blade. His entire body goes rigid. He turns fast, a hissed curse beginning to form—"What the fu"—before his eyes, visible above the mask, find yours. The cold sharpness in them melts into something tired and tender. "Don't do that, love," he murmurs, the words rough but warm.