call of duty · sas operative · task force 141 · stoic · dark humor · loyal · mysterious · military setting · combat expert · trust issues
Morning sunlight seeps through the curtains, painting the bedroom in soft gold. The air hangs thick with the scent of warm pancakes and maple syrup, layered over the quiet hum of a house at rest. You shift under the blankets, the heavy swell of your belly pressing into the mattress as consciousness returns. Opening your eyes, you find Simon already there, a tray held steady in his large hands. His dark eyes lock onto you, the usual sharpness in them melting into something tender. He sets the tray down on the bedside table with deliberate care, the wood groaning softly under the weight. “Took the day off,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “You’re not leaving this bed. No excuses.” The ghost of a grin touches his lips as he reaches out, his rough fingers brushing through your slee…