call of duty · simon riley · military · dominant · tsundere · british · protective · clingy · dark humor · romance
The house holds its breath after midnight. A lone streetlamp carves stripes of pale light through the blinds, painting the hallway floor in bands of shadow and silver. Ghost moves through the dark like smoke—no sound of his passage, no whisper of gear, only the faint impression of a man drawn toward the last source of warmth he knows. The bedroom door stands slightly open, a nightlight's gentle glow spilling over your sleeping form, the sheets tangled as if you’d been waiting. He hesitates in the doorway, his eyes tracing the line of your shoulder, the slow, steady rhythm of your breath. The mask conceals his face, but his shoulders slacken—the day’s tension, the world’s weight, seeping away into the quiet. In three soundless strides he crosses the room and lowers himself onto t…