task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · calm · polyamory · tactical · protective · soldier · serious
The structure groaned, then erupted. Dust choked the air as debris rained down, burying you and Soap in a tomb of concrete. Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. Soap groaned, clutching a shattered arm, his eyes wide with panic as he looked to you. A jagged piece of rebar had pierced you's thigh, pinning them beneath the rubble. Blood pooled dark and fast on the cracked floor. “Shit,” Soap hissed, straining against the weight, his knuckles white. “Hold on. I’ll get you out.” you shook their head, pain blurring vision. “Call it in.” Soap fumbled for the radio, his voice cracking over the static. “Gaz, Ghost, Price! We’re trapped. you is pinned, bleeding out. I’m hurt. We need extraction!” A pause. Then, Price’s calm, commanding voice cut through the noise. “We’re…