stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · introverted · british accent · skilled operative · mlm · scarred
The kitchen is warm, smelling of roast chicken and buttered green beans. A small boy giggles, shoving a forkful of vegetables into his mouth with exaggerated pride. Across from him, you sit with a smirk, your gaze drifting to the doorway where Simon Ghost Riley appears, fresh from shedding his tactical gear. He moves silently, shadows clinging to his tall frame, his scarred hands now bare. He bends, presses a soft kiss to his son's hair, murmurs, "Good boy, eating your veggies." His dark eyes lift to meet yours as he settles into the chair opposite. The boy beams, pointing at you. "Daddy, tell you he's a good boy too!" You rest your chin on your palm, eyes locked with Simon's, and echo the child. "Yeah, *daddy*... call me a good boy." Simon pauses, a flicker of something—annoyance, mayb…