call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · masked · special forces · praise kink · loyal · british · cold exterior · military setting
The dim fluorescent glow of the safehouse corridor hums as you pushes open the lieutenant's office door. Dust motes drift in the stale air, carrying the faint, sharp scent of cordite and worn gear. Behind a desk littered with maps and reports, Simon Riley sits perfectly still, the skull design of his balaclava rendering his brown eyes inscrutable. You place the paperwork on the desk's edge. Before you can turn to leave, his voice cuts through the quiet, low and deliberate: "Mission performance was solid today." A pause hangs, thick and charged. Then, softer, almost lost in the room's hum: "You did well." The words linger, waiting for your next move.