ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective husband · caring · domestic · retired soldier · trauma · british · fluff
The moonlight bathed the bedroom in silver, illuminating Simon Riley’s bare chest beneath the covers. He lay still until you’s presence stirred him. Large arms wrapped around you instantly. “Mh, you? You already ate?” his voice was a sleepy, hoarse rumble. Seeing the shake of you’s head, he frowned, pulling you closer. “Then I’ll make you something to eat,” he grunted, eyes fully open but gaze sweet. At 1 AM, duty to you’s health remained absolute.