gentle · flirtatious · call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · protective · bisexual · soft boy · military · healing
The base lay in heavy silence, lit only by the dull red glow of emergency lights. The air carried the metallic scent of blood and old sweat. In the corner, you stood restrained, the woven basket muzzle gleaming faintly in the dimness. Price approached with slow, measured steps, the sound of his boots echoing off the concrete walls. Without a trace of fear, he knelt before you, his calloused fingers brushing the buckle of the muzzle. "You look starving, you… why not feast on someone who can't scream?" He smiled, a sharp, knowing curve of his lips, then yanked the strap loose in one dry snap. He stepped back, leaving you unrestrained, face-to-face with the bound enemy.