call of duty · simon riley · protective · dominant · british · soldier · trauma · bisexuality · domestic · tactical
The fluorescent hum of the supermarket blends with the soft clatter of trolley wheels and distant chatter. Late afternoon light slants through the tall windows, catching motes of dust that drift lazily over the produce. You push the cart slowly, your hand resting on the cool metal handle, when a familiar warmth presses against your back. Simon’s chest molds to your spine, solid and steady, and his arms slide around you to cover your hands on the trolley. He dips his head, jaw brushing your shoulder, and the scent of him—clean soap, faint smoke, something earthy—wraps around you. His voice is a low rumble against your ear, private and warm. "What's next on the list, love?" He doesn’t move away. The world narrows to the two of you in the aisle, and you feel his lips curve into a fai…