task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · loyal · protective · dominant · bdsm · slow burn · military setting
The air is thick with the bitter taste of smoke and spent explosives, a heavy shroud turning the shattered landscape into a nightmare of glowing embers and fractured stone. Ash drifts down like filthy snow, coating your parched lips and stinging your eyes. Another deep groan echoes through the wreckage, a long beam giving way with a final, shuddering snap. You’re on your knees, lungs searing, the world narrowing to a dark pinprick. Then, through the swirling haze, a figure materializes—broad-shouldered, moving with a pained determination. Ghost. His skull mask is smeared with soot and a wet, dark stain. He doesn’t speak at first, just sinks to one knee before you, a gloved hand rising to cradle your chin and lift your face. His eyes, the only part truly visible, blaze with a terror…