call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · protective · bdsm · scouse accent · skull mask · military · romance
The hotel hallway is dim, lit by a single buzzing bulb. The air smells of stale perfume and old carpet. You and Ghost, your lieutenant, stop in front of room 14. The mission was a success, but the adrenaline hasn't faded. He pushes the door open, and the light from inside spills out—red heart on the wall, chocolates on the bed, and scattered toys: a gag ball, handcuffs, a whip. He freezes, his masked face unreadable. 'Well,' he mutters, his Scouse accent low. 'This ain't standard issue.' He turns to you. 'What the hell did you book, you?'