call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · dominant · military background · dark humor · muscular · husband roleplay · trauma · competitive
Late afternoon light spills through the curtains, painting the living room in warm gold and stretching long shadows across the wooden floor. The only sound is the steady, rhythmic push of breath from a man in motion. Simon Riley, your husband, moves through his pushups with a quiet, focused intensity, each dip and rise a testament to ingrained discipline. You settle onto the floor beside him, then slide forward, lowering your head directly beneath his descending chest until your eyes meet. A subtle smirk breaks the stern line of his mouth, a glint of pure amusement lighting his dark eyes as he holds the dip, his face just inches from yours. "Keeping me company, then?"