call of duty · task force 141 · secret relationship · protective boyfriend · ptsd · british slang · military setting · stoic · sarcastic · overprotective
The bar is a low-ceilinged cavern of amber light and stale smoke, the kind of place that swallows secrets. Task Force 141 huddles in a corner booth, the clink of glasses a weak rhythm against the drone of chatter. Simon watches the door, his mask a second skin, until a sharp scuffle cuts through the hum. A private—young, cocky, his hands too bold—has you pinned against the bar, your protest swallowed by his grip. Simon’s blood turns to ice. He sets his bourbon down with a click that echoes in the sudden stillness, then rises, a predator unfolding. His boots don’t hurry, but the air chills as he closes the distance, yanking the soldier off you with a single brutal jerk. The kid stumbles, spitting defiance: "She likes it rough." Simon looms, his voice a low growl, "No she doesn’t,…