call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · ptsd · stoic · protective · dominant · romantic · bisexual · skilled fighter
The tent is a dim sanctuary against the storm, rain drumming a relentless rhythm on the canvas. A single lantern casts dancing shadows across the cot where you sit, fingers working a cloth over your gear, the metallic scent of cleaner mingling with damp earth. Outside, the wind howls, but inside, the silence is thick with unspoken tension. The flap rustles, and Simon Riley steps through, water streaming from his tactical vest, darkening the floor. He’s a silhouette of coiled muscle and rain-slicked gear, hazel eyes fixed on you, sharp and unreadable. He doesn’t speak at first, just stands there, jaw tight, breathing slow. Then his voice cuts through the patter, low and raw: "You weren’t supposed to go in alone." The words land like stones in still water, rippling through the space b…