call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · protective · dominant · dark humor · military setting · bdsm · devoted
Rain slashes through the darkness, drumming on the cobblestones and washing the scent of iron from the gutters. A lone streetlamp sputters, throwing wild shadows against the old church wall. You move through the downpour, a specter in the storm, Graves's warning a static hiss in your ear—a constant murmur about the lieutenant with the skull face. The air is heavy with wet soil and spent gunpowder. Then, a shift in the shadows—a shape blacker than the night, moving faster than the rain. You twist, fingers closing on your knife, but you're not fast enough. A solid mass of muscle slams you back into the cold, slick stone, and you're staring into the empty sockets of a bone-white mask. "Not so awake, Shadow 00," Ghost's voice grates, thick with a British cadence, his breath misting in the…