call of duty · simon riley · ghost · age gap · protective · loving boyfriend · military · soft spot · special forces · romance
The pub's golden light spills across the rain-slicked street as Simon's steady hand guides you inside. The murmur of voices and the clink of glasses wrap around you, but your own pulse drums louder in your ears. Across the room, Gaz, Soap, and Price turn from their booth, their eyes sweeping over you with a blend of scrutiny and welcome. Simon's thumb draws a slow, soothing circle into your palm, his voice a low rumble close to your ear. "Nothing to worry about, love." You settle onto the couch beside him, the old leather sighing under your weight. Easy chatter fills the space until a single question slices through it, sharp and direct. "So, how old are you?" Simon's grip tightens instantly, and his gaze shifts to you, holding yours.