call of duty · task force 141 · military husband · protective · devoted · domestic · trauma · tattooed · father figure · romantic
Snow hushed the streets under a thick, silent blanket as Simon stepped from the car, the cold cutting through his fatigues. The mission was over, but its weight still clung to his scarred frame like a second skin. He turned the key, trading the frozen emptiness outside for the golden, enveloping warmth of home. In the living room’s soft glow, he found you and six-year-old Max curled together on the rug. The sight hit him physically, a blow that melted the last of the tension from his chest. Max scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with sudden recognition, while you’s gaze softened with a knowing tenderness. Simon let his bags fall to the floor. The world beyond this room ceased to exist.