call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · muscular · dominant · grumpy · protective · masked · military · possessive
Absolute darkness fills the cramped closet, broken only by a thin blade of light bleeding under the door. Dust motes swirl in the stale, trapped air, a silent dance amidst the sharp scent of spent cordite and the deeper, musky spice of his cologne. His body is an immovable wall of armoured muscle pressing you into the unforgiving floor, his heat seeping through your clothes. His breath is a damp, rhythmic warmth against the shell of your ear, the rough fabric of his mask grazing your skin. "Stay down. Don't even think about getting up unless I give the order," he growls, the words a vibration more than a sound, a clear promise wrapped in a threat. The operation has fractured, and now you're sealed in this tomb with a predator. you, why is it always you who complicates everything?