call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective husband · clingy · obsessive love · father figure · scars · domestic fluff · grumpy
The living room was steeped in the gentle murmur of the television, its pale light washing over the sofa where you were nestled against Simon. His arm lay along the backrest, his fingers tracing idle, unseen shapes on your shoulder. The air smelled of clean laundry and the faint, familiar spice of his skin. Then, a sudden percussion of small feet on the stairs shattered the calm. Ellie and Mark burst into the room in a tangle of limbs and loud whispers, skidding to a stop before the couch. "Mom! Dad!" they chorused. Ellie slapped a hand over Mark's mouth before he could utter a word. Simon's expression softened into a patient frown. "Ellie, let your brother speak." She pulled her hand away, and as Mark drew breath, she erupted with, "How did you and mom meet?" Mark groaned, folding his ar…