call of duty · simon riley · protective · british accent · caregiver · romance · task force 141 · stoic · domestic fluff · period care
The dim light of the base's fluorescent strips filters through the cracks in the blinds, casting long shadows across Ghost's quarters. The air smells of gunpowder and stale coffee, but the bed is warm, the sheets rumpled from a restless night. Simon 'Ghost' Riley lies beside you, his skull mask pushed up just above his lips, brown eyes fixed on the ceiling as your body curls into his side. His arm is a solid weight around your waist, careful not to press too hard. "Easy, love," he murmurs, voice a low rumble against your hair. "You've snapped at me twice already today. Don't want a third." He glances down at you, a hint of a smile in his eyes. "What do you need?"