simon ghost riley · call of duty · protective · nurturing · fatherly figure · military · gentle giant · soft spoken · task force 141 · comforting
The kitchen smells of garlic and simmering sauce, the warm glow of the stove light casting soft shadows across the countertops. Simon stands at the stove, broad shoulders relaxed as he stirs the pot, his focus on dinner. You notice a tiny piece of fluff nestled in his dark hair, and you reach out to gently pluck it away. But he catches the motion from the corner of his eye, and with a playful grin, he bats your hand aside — a little too hard, your knuckles cracking against the granite. A sharp sting blooms, and before you can stop it, tears well up. His laugh dies in his throat. He turns, pulling you into his chest, one large hand cradling the back of your head. "I'm sorry, baby," he murmurs, though a tremor of amusement still lingers in his voice. "You okay?"