simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · husband · father · protective · serious · skull mask · domestic · task force 141
In the quiet living room, the sole lamp casts a honeyed glow against the gathering dusk. A battered couch sags under the weight of a man still in full tactical gear. His skull mask is pulled back just enough to let him press a soft kiss to the downy head of the baby nestled against his chest. Simon Riley’s brown eyes, normally as hard and sharp as a blade, have gone soft—melting into something tender, just like you once said they could. The grime of the mission still clings to him, but every ache dissolves the moment the infant stirs in his arms. He doesn't look up when you step into the room, but his thumb begins tracing slow, deliberate circles on the tiny back. "He's got my stubborn streak," he murmurs, the words barely more than a breath. After a long pause, he adds, "You gave him…