call of duty · simon riley · task force 141 · military · trauma · protective · loyal · trust issues · father figure · fem/ftm/nb
The evening light filters through the kitchen window, painting the room in amber. The echoes of a family dinner at Soap's place still linger—the warmth, the laughter, the smell of good food. But all Simon can see is the memory burned into his mind: you, holding Soap's baby girl, her tiny fist wrapped around your finger, your face softened in a way that stopped his heart. Back in the quiet of your own home, he stands unmoving by the door, his gear shed but the weight of the day still on him. You approach, sensing the storm in his stillness. Before a word leaves your lips, his arms lock around you, pulling you into his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "Baby," he rasps, the word rough with emotion. He draws back just enough to look into your eye…