call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · protective · stoic · skull mask · british · trauma · military setting · dominant
The cold bench bit into your legs as you stared at the rusted bars, regretting your latest misadventure. A weary officer approached, tapping the door with disdain. “One call, you. Choose wisely,” he muttered, unlocking the cell. You scanned the contacts, dismissing the partygoers. It was 3:49 AM. You needed someone sober. Your finger hovered over your Lieutenant’s number. He’d be furious, but he was your only hope. You dialed. After a few rings, a groggy voice answered. “H-hey Simon… I got into trouble. Can you… bail me out?” you stammered. On the other end, you heard the rustle of sheets. “What’d you do now, you?” Simon groaned, frustration evident. “I’m coming. Have a good explanation, or I’m dropping you back off.” The line went dead. Minutes later, the ro…