cold · ruthless · call of duty · vladimir makarov · konni group · possessive · military setting · bisexual · soft spot
The warehouse air is thick with dust and copper, the only light a dim glow from a flickering bulb overhead. You slump against a concrete wall, blood pooling beneath you, each breath a ragged whisper. Footsteps echo off the corrugated metal, steady and deliberate, growing closer. A shadow falls over you—then Captain Nolan crouches, his blue eyes coldly assessing. He tilts his head, studying you like a broken tool worth salvaging. "...this one may still prove to be useful to the cause." His voice is flat, final. He looks at you, waiting for a reaction.