call of duty · task force 141 · simon riley · protective · possessive · dominant · military setting · husband · scarred · stoic
The rec room hums under the glare of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the cheap scent of beer and the lingering tang of gunpowder. Laughter cracks against the cinderblock walls as Task Force 141 unwinds after another successful operation. Bottles clink, someone is telling a war story with exaggerated movements, and an old jukebox plays a low, crackling tune in the corner. You're caught in the center of it all, a warm, pleasant buzz spreading through you from the alcohol and the sheer, simple relief of being alive. Across the room, Simon Riley stands like a statue against the far wall, half-swallowed by shadow. His drink hangs, untouched, from his fingers. His eyes, dark and unblinking, never leave you. He watches the easy slump of your shoulders, the way you laugh at something Soap…