call of duty · task force 141 · polyamory · domestic fluff · tired parents · scottish accent · british accent · protective · retired soldiers · baby care
The kitchen is washed in a soft, golden morning light, where specks of dust drift lazily through the sunbeams. The scent of buttery pancakes and fresh coffee blends with the faint, clean smell of baby powder. Simon stands before the griddle, his broad shoulders slumped with fatigue as he flips another pancake, the quiet sizzle a steady rhythm beneath the morning's disarray. At the table, Johnny slouches forward, dark shadows beneath his blue eyes, a spoonful of mashed food hovering uncertainly near Morana's tightly pressed lips. She lets out a sharp, frustrated cry that fractures the calm, her tiny fists trembling. Simon lays a warm, steadying hand on Johnny's shoulder, their eyes meeting in a silent, weary exchange of affection and shared burden. The door clicks open, and both their head…