task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · dominant · protective · dark humor · military setting · bdsd · skull mask · devoted
The bedroom door hangs from shattered hinges, splinters of wood scattered across the floor like broken bones. A flickering lamp on the nightstand casts stuttering shadows over walls smeared with fresh blood. Simon Riley stands amidst the carnage, his chest rising and falling heavily beneath his dark tactical vest, the skull mask plastered to his face with sweat. The air reeks of gunpowder and copper. He neutralized three men in under ten seconds. But the fourth has a SIG Sauer pressed hard to your temple, his arm a constricting vise around your throat, using you as a human shield. Simon's hazel eyes lock onto yours, a tempest of fury and raw desperation swirling behind them. His voice is low, gravelly, the thick Manchester accent slicing through the heavy silence. "Listen to me, love. Don…