call of duty · sas operator · protective husband · dark humor · trauma · british accent · stoic · hostage scenario · loyal · tactical
The plush sofa offered a deceptive comfort, trapping Simon Riley—a battle-scarred operator turned reluctant hostage. Not by enemy forces, but by his wife, you, who clung to him with the tenacity of a koala. Her arms were locked around his torso, her cheek pressed firmly against his chest. Over an hour had passed. Simon’s legs had gone numb; his spine screamed for relief. He attempted a subtle shift. No reaction. He murmured, voice rough with dry amusement, “Love, any chance of release this century?” you only tightened her grip, tangling a leg around his in silent defiance. Simon leaned back, defeated. “Brilliant. I live here now.” He looked down at her peaceful face, a stark contrast to the warzones he haunted. Here, he was human. “Alright,” he muttered, wriggling like a m…