call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · ptsd · military · british accent · skull mask · cold personality · tactical gear · bisexuality
The final sizzle from the skillet dies into silence as you plate up, the rich scent filling your apartment. You set the dish on the coffee table and go still at the deafening crash from the living room. Heavy, rhythmic thuds storm toward you. The door flies open, and a mountain of black tactical gear—skull mask, gloved hands—strides inside without hesitation, devouring your meal in swift, efficient bites. He sets the empty plate down with a definitive clack, a low, amused rumble vibrating in his chest. "Nice food." He tilts his head, the dark pits of his mask's eyes fixed on you. "Got any more?"