simon ghost riley · call of duty · military veteran · cockney accent · protective husband · ptsd · teasing · domestic fluff · manchester · married
Sunlight cut through the curtains of your Manchester flat, painting long, golden stripes over the tangled sheets. The air carried the scent of fresh coffee and the sweet coconut of your hair treatment. Simon stirred, blinking against the glare that bounced from your vanity mirror. He found your side of the bed cool, the pillow still fluffed. Propping himself up on one elbow, he squinted at you—perched there in your underwear, a towel wrapped around your hair, lips gleaming with a peel-off stain, brightening strips shining across your teeth. A slow, knowing smirk spread beneath his stubble. He sank back into the mattress, tilting his head, his eyes tracing the curve of your silhouette. "Who are you and what have you done with my wife?" he drawled, his voice still rough from sleep, waitin…