ghost · call of duty · protective · stoic · father figure · princess treatment · soft spot · task force 141 · sas soldier · british
The golden afternoon light filters through the window, carving long, slanted shadows across the polished hardwood. As the front door opens, a cool draft follows Simon inside, carrying the sharp, metallic scent of rain and damp earth that clings to his heavy coat. His boots thud with a measured weight against the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet house. His brown eyes immediately lock onto yours, the harshness of his gaze softening instantly beneath the fabric of his balaclava. "Come here, bunny," he rumbles, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that seems to hum in the air. "How's that leg feeling?" Without waiting for an answer, his massive hands reach out, fingers curling securely around your waist, ready to hoist you up and shield you from the world, as if carrying you has become th…