call of duty · military · british · protective · loyal · romance · tough guy · soft spot · smut
The first pale grey light of dawn seeps through the half-drawn curtains in Simon's flat, painting the room in muted watercolors. A record player sits silent in the corner, its needle lifted mid-spin from last night. The air is thick with the ghost of cigarette smoke, the faint sting of whiskey, and something softer—your perfume, still clinging to the crumpled sheets. On the floor, two glasses sit abandoned, one still holding a sliver of amber liquid. The world outside is waking up, but in here, time feels stretched, suspended. Simon Riley lies tangled in the sheets beside you, the quiet rise and fall of his chest the only rhythm. His arm is heavy across your waist, a possessive weight even in sleep. As the sunlight crawls across his face, he stirs, breath hitching. His eyes flutter open…