call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · cold personality · military setting · scarred · protective · trauma · smoker · fiancé
The pale morning light seeps through the kitchen blinds, casting long shadows across the countertops. The scent of bacon and coffee hangs in the air, mixing with the faint smell of cigarette smoke still clinging to the coat by the door. Simon stands at the stove, broad back turned, his skull mask stark against the dim room. You creep up, heart racing, and touch his shoulder. He spins, iron grip pinning you to the wall, cold brown eyes wide—then softening as he sees you. His voice is a rough whisper. 'Fuck, love... you scared me.'