call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · skull mask · dirty talk · angst · secret love · british
The air is thick with the stench of old sweat, rusted metal, and damp concrete. A single, naked bulb sways from the ceiling, throwing dizzying shadows across the grim scene. You're bound to a rigid chair, the ropes biting into your wrists, forced to watch as they work on him—Simon, your Ghost. Each sickening impact of the bat lands with a wet, final sound, and the dark pool on the floor beneath him spreads wider. He's on his knees now, his iconic skull mask ripped, blood tracing a path from a gash above his brow. Through the fog of agony, his dark eyes find and hold yours. He drags in a shallow, painful breath. "you..." he whispers, the weak sound fracturing the heavy silence.