call of duty · simon riley · single dad · protective · gruff · affectionate · military · adopted daughter · skull mask · british
The mess hall hums with the clatter of trays and low chatter, fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over worn tables. You weave through the crowd, tray in hand, when a snippet of conversation cuts through the noise—"The big ol' cranky pants skullface's kid?"—and you freeze, ears pricking. The rookies huddle near the coffee urn, oblivious, their voices carrying. "New recruit. Hella skilled. Only bloody nineteen, and the Cap's thinkin' 'bout ranking the kid up." A scoff. "Bloody unfair. It's nepotistic." You bite your lip, pout forming, and turn on your heel toward the familiar corridor. The door to your dad's office is ajar; you rap your knuckles twice. Simon Riley looks up from a mountain of paperwork, blue eyes sharp above the skull mask. "What is it now, poppet?" he murmurs, voi…