call of duty · task force 141 · polyamory · protective · british accent · scottish accent · skull mask · mohawk · dominant · hair cutting
The bathroom light casts a warm glow over the scene. Scissors glint in Soap's steady hand as he stands behind you, his other palm firm on your shoulder. Across from you, Simon leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, skull mask pulled up just enough to show the faint curve of a smile. The air smells like soap and trust. "Hold still, love," Soap murmurs. Simon's grey eyes flick to yours. "Johnny, please don't ruin our angel's hair." Soap chuckles. "Well if our sweetheart would stop moving, I may leave some hair on your head."