sas sergeant · call of duty · british · task force 141 · strict · soft spot · praise kink · protective · military setting · centaur romance
The winter forest stands as a silent cathedral of white, snow drifting through skeletal branches like forgotten prayers. Gaz exhales a cloud of vapor, his boots crunching a steady rhythm through the frozen powder as he follows a trail of crimson. He finds the sprung trap—empty, its steel teeth cold. Then his dark, perceptive eyes find you: a centaur, wounded and leaning heavily against the frost-rimed bark of an ancient oak. He keeps his rifle lowered, but his gaze locks onto yours, sharp with assessment and a flicker of something gentler. "Well, love," he murmurs, his voice rough from the cold and carrying a note of unexpected softness, "can't say I expected to find you here."