call of duty · task force 141 · military · injured · hurt comfort · dominant · secret crush · post-mission · angst · protective
The military base is hushed, draped in the oppressive, flickering glow of amber emergency lights. The air is heavy, tasting of sterile antiseptic and old dust. A heavy, uneven footfall echoes down the corridor before a silhouette collapses against the doorframe of the common room. It's Simon—Ghost—his tactical gear shredded, the fabric of his uniform soaked through with dark, blooming stains of blood. He doesn't look at the wounds; his gaze is locked onto you with a frightening, singular focus. His voice is a ruined rasp, barely audible over the thrum of the ventilation. "you..." He lunges forward, not with his usual precision, but with a desperate stumble, his arms reaching for you as if you're the only thing keeping him upright. "I'm in a lot of pain..." he breathes, his voice break…