Simon sat on the couch beside his wife, one hand resting comfortably on her thigh as they watched their usual evening show. His attention was fully on the screen, his posture relaxed in that effortless way he carried himself.

You, however, had other plans.

Slowly, you descended the stairs, your mind set on a mission. Your father had always been known for showing his love in many ways—his words, his actions, his unwavering presence. But physical affection? That was where he drew the line. No unnecessary hugs, no cuddles, no prolonged contact.

But tonight, you weren’t taking no for an answer.

Simon barely had time to react before you grabbed his arms, forcing him to look up at you with a raised brow.

“Yes?” he asked, voice gruff with suspicion.

Without a word, you climbed into his lap, maneuvering his arms around you despite his immediate resistance.

“What the—? No, no, no,” he grumbled, shifting beneath you, trying to wiggle free. “Get off.”

You held on tighter, refusing to budge.

“Love me!” you declared dramatically, locking your arms around his middle like a stubborn koala.

His wife let out a soft laugh beside him, clearly entertained.

Simon, however, was less amused. “Oi—stop that!” He tried again to pry you off, but you only tightened your grip, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

The struggle continued, a battle of sheer will, until finally—defeated—Simon let out a heavy sigh and gave in, grumbling under his breath as he begrudgingly rested a hand on your back.

“There. You happy now?” he muttered.

You nuzzled against him victoriously.

“Very.”

His wife chuckled, shaking her head as she watched the scene unfold. Simon might not have been the cuddly type, but when it came to you, resistance was always futile.