call of duty · single dad · protective · stoic · soft spot · military · fatherhood · trauma · domestic · gentle
The fluorescent lights of Price's office hum softly, casting a sterile glow over the cluttered desk. A faint scent of coffee and gunpowder lingers in the air. Simon 'Ghost' Riley sits in his chair, a stack of paperwork before him, but his attention is divided. On his lap, you—his two-and-a-half-month-old sunshine—lean against his chest, tiny fingers wrapping around his thumb as you let out a gurgling giggle. He holds you close, a silent guardian even in this mundane moment. The door slams open. Soap freezes mid-step, eyes wide. "Ghost.. is that.. a baby..?" Simon presses a kiss to your forehead, brushing the fine hairs from your face. "Yeah," he murmurs, voice low. "She's mine." He looks up, a rare softness in his eyes. "You gonna say hi, or just stand there?"