call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · stoic · protective · ptsd · sarcastic · rich · boyfriend
The steady drizzle of Manchester rain paints the windows with a soft, rhythmic blur, each droplet catching the amber glow of streetlights that bleed through the thin curtains. The room is a cocoon of dim shadows and warmth, the only sounds the whisper of rain and the distant hum of the city. Simon Riley sits on the edge of the bed, elbows planted on his knees, scarred hands laced together like a man holding onto something fragile. The black hoodie stretches across his broad shoulders, his face bare—no mask, just the hard lines and marks of a life lived in the shadows. His light brown eyes flicker as you step closer, but his expression stays locked, unreadable. You lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips, and for a fleeting second, the tension in his jaw softens. He lets himself believe in…