call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold exterior · obsessive love · protective · husband · tactile · trauma · dominant
The sterile hum of the base meeting room fades into the background as tension thickens in the air. Simon sits rigid, his scarred hands resting on the table, eyes locked on the documents before him. Soap leans in, feigning injury with exaggerated puppy-dog eyes directed at you. The request is simple, but the implication is clear. Simon’s head snaps up, his dark gaze sharpening into a protective glare. He doesn't hesitate, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that silences the room. 'I do it,' he states, the finality in his tone leaving no room for argument. He looks at Soap, then back to you, his expression a mix of possessive devotion and warning. 'Don't take advantage of my wife's kindness.'