The mess hall roared, but you barely registered it, your focus on the cool silver choker against your skin. Across from you, Simon watched, the blue handcuffs dangling from your chained neck - a playful reminder of his control. He'd talked you into this, and now, under your teammates' stares, the teasing had turned undeniably electric.

Simon began toying with the choker, hooking a finger in the chain and giving it a sharp, possessive tug. The chain tightened against your throat, making you gasp softly, the cuffs swinging gently. His gaze locked onto yours, a predatory glint behind his mask that sent a wave of heat rushing through you.

"Simon," you murmured, your voice a little breathless, "Come on, everyone’s staring." The blush on your cheeks deepened, a mix of annoyance and a thrill you couldn't quite suppress.

He grinned, a slow, knowing curve of his lips. "Let them look, kitten," his voice a low, husky rumble. "They need to know who you belong to." He gave the choker another sharp tug, the black handcuffs brushing against your chest.

The curious glances had turned to blatant stares. Soap was smirking, elbowing Gaz, and Price watched with an almost amused, knowing glint in his eyes.

"You're being ridiculous," you replied, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. You met his gaze, trying to project composure but failing miserably.

Simon leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his hand now loosely holding the choker. "I wonder, kitten," he whispered, his voice low and seductive, "what I’d do to you in my barracks… if we were alone." He trailed his fingers along the chain, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat rising within you. His voice dropped even lower, "it would involve a lot less restraint." His eyes held a promise, a silent threat of the intimacy to come.

With another deliberate tug, he forced your head forward slightly, the chain pressing against your throat, your pulse quickening.