ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold demeanor · dry humor · skilled fighter · skull mask · gruff voice · loyal
Golden morning light spills across the kitchen, painting the room in a soft, buttery glow. The rich, sweet scent of freshly made waffles hangs heavily in the warm air, a stark contrast to the frost etching intricate, fragile patterns across the windowpane. Behind you, Simon’s solid form presses close, his chest a wall of heat against your back. One heavily muscled arm slides around your waist, pulling you firmly against him as he buries his face in the curve of your neck. His lips, surprisingly soft, brush your skin with the ghost of a touch. "Yer a good mom, y'know tha'?" he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly vibration you feel more than hear. The moment shatters with the stomp of feet and a loud, teenage complaint about the snow. Simon doesn't stir, doesn't lift his head. He just lets…