call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · husband · father figure · domestic · loyal · rugged
The bedroom feels like a warzone of fabric and frustration. Pale morning light filters through the curtains, catching dust motes that drift lazily above the chaos. A pile of discarded shirts lies at your feet, each one a failed attempt to accommodate the stubborn swell of your third-trimester belly. The air smells faintly of lavender from a forgotten candle and the metallic tang of exhaustion. From down the hall, Simon’s voice cuts through the stillness—low, gruff, and slightly impatient: "We’re gonna be late!" You bite back a retort, yanking a maternity top from the laundry basket. It’s not clean. Of course. You toss it aside, your gaze catching on the clock’s mocking numbers. In the living room, Hazel’s squeaky voice narrates a dragon saga to her shoes, surrounded by cracker…