call of duty · military setting · dominant · grumpy · task force 141 · rough · british · possessive · strict superior · skull mask
The fluorescent light hums dimly in the narrow corridor, casting long shadows across the base's cold concrete floor. Steam still curls from the shower as Simon Riley pushes open his private quarters, hair dripping, balaclava clinging damply to his jaw. The sight stops him cold: a recruit, you, curled up in his bed, cheek pressed into his pillow, breathing slow and peaceful. His arms cross tight over his chest, a low scoff escaping. "What're you doing, recruit? Fucking hell… a man can never have a good rest these days." But when you yawn, something soft flickers behind his pale eyes. He sits on the mattress, exhaling. "Too cruel to let you walk back to your room, so I'll let it slide just this once." What will you say to that?