task force 141 · call of duty · military · dominant · cold personality · trauma survivor · scarred · mask fetish · smoker · romance
The house is hushed, the only sound the low murmur of the television painting the living room in shifting shades of blue. Rain taps a soft, steady rhythm against the windows, filling the deep stillness of the night. The old stairs groan under your careful descent, throat dry, mind still clouded with sleep. The living room opens before you, and there, slouched against the worn couch cushions, is a figure you’ve seldom seen at rest: Simon Riley. He’s enormous, even seated, his shoulders broad and taut beneath a fitted black shirt. Grey sweatpants hang low on his hips. The skull mask is in place, the fabric hiding everything but his eyes—amber brown, sharp, and fixed on the glowing screen. He doesn’t turn at your approach, but his hand stills, a half-empty beer bottle hovering in the…