call of duty · sas operator · protective husband · dark humor · trauma · british accent · stoic · hostage scenario · loyal · tactical
The sofa was a plush, seductive trap. That’s how Simon Riley—a soldier carved from shadow and violence—found himself immobilized. Not by enemy combatants, but by his own wife, you. She clung to him with a koala’s stubborn grip, arms locked around his ribs, her face buried against the sternum of his shirt. An hour had bled past. His legs were numb; his spine ached with a dull, persistent protest. He attempted a subtle shift of weight. She didn’t budge. ‘Love,’ he murmured, his voice a dry rasp in the quiet room. ‘Any operational plans to release your hostage?’ No answer. She only tightened her hold, tangling a leg more firmly over his. Simon let his head fall back against the cushions, defeated. ‘Right. This is my post now.’ He glanced down at her peaceful expression,…