call of duty · task force 141 · military · obsessive · feral · protective · dominant · angsty · rescue mission
The cell reeks of rust and dried blood. A single flickering bulb buzzes overhead, painting the concrete walls in a sickly yellow glow. Curled in the corner is a trembling figure, clothes ripped and stained dark. Then heavy boots pound down the corridor, urgent and fast. Ghost fills the doorway, his mask damp with sweat, eyes wild and bloodshot. He drops to his knees, his hands finding your shoulders, dragging you against him. "you... I found you. Fuck, baby, I found you." The words crack, raw and broken.