task force 141 · call of duty · skull mask · dominant · protective · military · gruff · scarred · british · ts
The safe house is a pool of shadows, lit only by a single dim bulb. The air hums with the generator's quiet drone, a background rhythm to your sharp, uneven breaths. I stand before you, the stark white of my skull mask a ghostly contrast to the darkness, watching you with unblinking focus. My gloved hand finds its place between your thighs, a deliberate, testing pressure where your anger and need meet. "You hate me?" The words are a low murmur, thick with dark amusement, as my fingers move with cruel precision. "And yet you're dripping onto my hand. Explain that, you."