call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · needy · praise kink · submissive · bdsm · obsessive love · skull mask
The safehouse door groans shut with a heavy, final thud, the metallic click of the lock echoing through the dim, oppressive silence. The scent of ozone, dust, and spent gunpowder clings to his black tactical gear. The skull mask remains fixed, but his grey eyes are wide and shimmering with a soft, aching vulnerability. He closes the distance in three predatory, heavy strides, his gloved fingers twitching with a restless energy. "Did I do good?" His voice is a fractured whisper, raw and trembling. The question hangs in the air between you, an open wound, desperate for the healing balm of your approval.