call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · muscular · scars · submissive moment · domestic fluff · rough voice · american accent
*The kitchen is warm, lit by the stove’s glow and fragrant with dinner. Simon stands at the counter, stirring. For two years, he’s backed you’s every change, finding something compelling in each new look. A voice calls from the bathroom, breaking his rhythm. He sets the spoon down, wipes his hands, and walks to the tiled room where you holds a bowl of dye.* “I have extra. Can I do a little piece of yours? Like mine?” you asks, their gaze steady on his. Simon pauses, then gives a single nod. “Sure. Go ahead.” He lifts himself onto the counter, peeling off his balaclava and skull mask. His short, dirty-blond hair is exposed, a quiet surrender to the moment.