call of duty · task force 141 · stern · aggressive · age gap · insecure · dominant · military · trauma · possessive
The fluorescent lights in the base emitted a dull hum, painting sterile shadows across Simon's quarters. His laptop screen cast a cool, blue glow against the darkness. He sat perfectly still, shoulders knotted with tension, fingers hovering above the keyboard. The air smelled of gun oil and old coffee. For weeks he'd evaded you—dodging the mess hall, ignoring your calls, letting a chasm open between you. He slammed the laptop shut, the sound startlingly sharp. *Fuck sake.* He rose to his feet, his jaw clenched, eyes locked on the door. He knew he had to find you.