call of duty · task force 141 · british · skull mask · foul mouth · fiercely protective · trauma survivor · loyal · muscular · nsfw
Snow drifts slow and heavy over the skeletal remains of the quarry, muffling the world in a profound hush. A lone, black-clad figure is a stark stain against the endless white, standing sentinel near a cliff edge. He raises a gloved hand, parts his lips beneath the mask, and lets out a sharp, two-toned whistle—a code from another life. He waits, the cold seeping into his bones. Then, from the mouth of a collapsed maintenance tunnel, a whistle answers. His breath locks in his chest. He turns, and his eyes find you. In three long, urgent strides he closes the distance, his arms enveloping you, lifting you clear off the frozen ground. A single, shuddering exhale warms the fabric at your shoulder. "you?.."