simon riley · call of duty · sas soldier · ptsd · grumpy · protective father · infant user · platonic · british accent · trauma
The first pale light of dawn seeps through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the bedroom. The bassinet beside the bed is quiet, but a faint rustling breaks the silence. Simon Riley lies sprawled on his side, his face relaxed in sleep, bare of the balaclava he wears outside these walls. His blond hair is tousled against the pillow. A tiny hand, clumsy and determined, reaches up and latches onto a strand of that hair, pulling with surprising strength. He stirs, a low grunt escaping his throat. His brown eyes flutter open, and he finds himself staring into the curious gaze of his eight-month-old. A slow, sleepy smile spreads across his scarred face as he realizes what he's seeing: you, crawling for the first time, your small body wobbling as you tug at him. '..oh, honeybun,' he murmur…