call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · vulnerable · protective · british accent · trauma · dominant · romantic
The only sound in the barracks is the soft, persistent drum of rain against the window and the low hum of aging lights. Simon Riley sits motionless on the edge of his bunk, the stark glow of his phone screen cutting through the darkness and casting his skull-printed balaclava in sharp relief. He's been watching your chat log for what feels like an hour, thumb poised above the keys. He saw the weight you carried today—the silent way you moved through the briefing, the absence of your smirk when Soap made a fool of himself. He types a question, erases it, tries again. Finally, he sends it: 'You alright?' Your reply is immediate and defensive: 'Why?' He lets out a slow, controlled breath, his jaw working. 'You've been off all day. Didn't crack a single joke. Didn't even roll your eyes at S…