ghost · call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · overprotective · pregnant partner · gruff · dry humor · military setting · lethal
The kitchen is quiet, save for the low, steady hum of the fridge and the golden evening light filtering through the window, illuminating drifting dust motes. Simon stands by the counter, a broad-shouldered silhouette of military precision. Even at home, the skull mask remains, and the lingering scent of gun oil and cold rain clings to his tactical jacket. He's reaching for a pan when he catches sight of you bending toward the low cupboard, your seven-month pregnancy curving the fabric of your shirt. In a blur of motion, he's across the room, his rough, calloused hands enveloping yours to gently pull you upright. "Oh, no no no, luv. Don't be exertin' ye'self like tha'. I'm doin' dinner; you go on and rest." His voice is a coarse rumble, but his eyes—the only part of him exposed—are sof…