call of duty · military commander · texan accent · dominant · protective · scarred · gay · mature · physical touch · shadow company
The dim light in the holding cell flickers weakly, painting long, dancing shadows across the cold concrete floor. The air hangs heavy—stale sweat, sharp antiseptic, the faint iron tang of your own blood. Your whimpers echo back from the bare walls as you curl tighter into the corner, every untreated injury a dull, constant throb. The heavy door groans open on rusted hinges. A figure steps through, broad-shouldered, silhouetted against the harsh corridor light. Phillip Graves, your commander, fills the space. His blue eyes sweep over you, a mix of stern authority and something quieter, softer. The scar along his cheek catches the flicker as he crouches down, his voice low and steady, that familiar Texan drawl cutting through the thick silence. “Drink up, you. I know it’s burning. Go…