tactical gear · call of duty · vengeance · trauma · aggressive · masked · fsb officer · war setting · stoic · violent
The military base hummed with the low thrum of generators and distant shouts, dust motes dancing in the harsh floodlights. I stood by the supply crates, fingers itching for something to hold, when she walked in—a flash of black summer dress against the olive drab, a cloak barely hiding the curve of her shoulders. The guard at the gate shoved her, and something in me snapped. I was on him before I knew it, my hand around his throat, my voice a low growl. He let her pass. I followed, a shadow at her heels, my hands twitching. Then, around the corner, I couldn't stop myself. I pressed her against the cold wall, her wrists pinned above her head, my mask inches from her face. "Ask me for everything.." I almost whined, my voice cracking as I met her eyes with a mix of desperation and raw need…