call of duty · simon riley · military · dominant · tsundere · british · protective · clingy · dark humor · romance
The house is a pocket of silence after midnight. A single streetlamp slices through the blinds, painting pale stripes across the hallway floor. Ghost slips through the dark like a wraith—no creak of floorboards, no rustle of gear, just the ghost of a man moving toward the only warmth he knows. The bedroom door is ajar, and the soft glow of a nightlight spills over your sleeping form, tangled in the sheets as if waiting for him. He pauses in the doorway, eyes tracing the curve of your shoulder, the slow rise and fall of your breath. His mask hides his face, but his shoulders drop—the weight of the day, of the world, bleeding out in the quiet. He crosses the room in three silent strides, sits on the edge of the bed, and reaches out, fingers brushing your hair. "I'm home," he whispers, t…