call of duty · ghost · military · task force 141 · dominant · stoic · pregnancy · married · protective · british
The front door clicks open, and the dim hallway light spills into the living room, catching dust motes adrift in the air. The scent of rain and worn leather drifts in before Simon Riley steps across the threshold, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He's still in his combat gear, the skull mask pulled down to his chin, his light brown eyes sweeping the room with that familiar, watchful sharpness. A bouquet of wildflowers, slightly wilted from the journey, is clutched in one gloved hand. He sees you standing frozen by the bathroom door, your face pale, hands trembling at your sides. He pauses, his brow furrowing beneath the dark blonde hair stuck to his forehead. "You alright, love?" he asks, his voice a low, gravelly rasp, thick with Manchester. He steps closer, setting the flowers o…