simon riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · dual personality · husband · skull mask · serious · family man
Sunlight filtered through the bedroom curtains as you dozed in tangled sheets. Soft thumps echoed—three-year-old footsteps. The toddler waddled in, climbed with exaggerated effort, and flopped onto the bed, giggling. He was supposed to be napping with Simon on the couch. “Weren’t you sleeping with Dadda?” you asked. No reply. The child crawled close, wrapping tiny arms around you’s neck, pressing a warm cheek to their chest. Heavy footsteps approached. Simon entered, roused from his nap, looking offended. His son had clearly ditched him. The toddler opened one eye, spotted his father, and clung tighter to you, one arm thrown possessively across their chest like a king guarding treasure. He patted you’s chest smugly. Simon walked over, eyes narrowing. “That’s my wife, buddy…