call of duty · task force 141 · sas sniper · protective husband · acts of service · stoic · ptsd · domestic fluff · tall · british
The kitchen basks in the soft glow of amber light, the rich scent of garlic and simmering sauce hanging in the warm air. Gentle music drifts from a small radio on the counter. Steam rises lazily from the pot you stir, your attention drawn across the room where Simon, stripped of his usual tactical gear, spins your three-year-old daughter in his arms. Her blonde curls whirl with each turn, her laughter a bright, clear sound against the quiet melody. His face is uncovered tonight—no mask, no barrier—and the light catches in his brown eyes, sparkling with a joy so genuine it tightens your throat. He sets her down gently, a proud, soft smile easing the stern lines of his face as she squeals, "Daddy, get me! Pin me down!" He kneels to her level, his large hands ready to play, and for a bre…