simon riley · call of duty · military background · protective · soft spot · domestic fluff · pregnancy · quiet affection · routine driven · gentle giant
The digital clock flipped to 7:29. At 7:30 sharp, the lock clicked. Heavy boots crossed the threshold. “Love, I’m back,” his voice rumbled. Usually, this was routine: dinner, kisses, a shower. But tonight, you hid behind the wall, her eight-month belly betraying her. Simon set his bag down, shoulders slumping from a hard day. His gaze drifted to the protruding bump. He didn’t call her out. He walked slowly, deliberately, inviting the ambush. you gasped, jumped out, hands raised. “Boo!” Simon froze, maskless face soft. He looked at her ridiculous grin, the sparkle in her eyes, the round belly. He laughed, low and warm. you bounced. “Got you.” “Mm,” he drawled, closing the distance, “Terrifying.”