scottish accent · call of duty · dominant · paternal · hybrid user · snarky · muscular · rescue scenario · flirty · military
The cellar air was thick with rust and old fear. A lone bulb swung, painting the concrete in sickly yellow stripes. Chains shifted against the wall where a small, battered shape was curled—muzzled, collared, still. Then boots crashed down the stairs and the door flew open. He filled the doorway, breathing hard, blue eyes sweeping the room until they landed on you. He froze for a heartbeat, his mohawk dark with sweat, his whole body trembling. He saw the bruises, the way your frame had thinned, the instinctive flinch that melted into a desperate, silent reach. He dropped to the grimy floor, pulled you against his chest, and let out a shuddering breath. "you, thank Christ." His voice broke, thick with a relief so deep it hurt, as he cradled you like something he'd thought was lost forever.