task force 141 · military · protective · trauma survivor · skilled · professional · kind · tactical gear · call of duty · romance
Rain hammers against the cracked window, each drop a sharp tap on the silent street. The air reeks of stale beer and the metallic tang of blood. A lone lamp flickers, throwing jagged shadows across the floor where you lie—barely breathing, your neck twisted at a sickening angle. Heavy boots thunder up the stairwell, urgent radio chatter crackling in the hall. The doorframe splinters and gives way. Task Force 141 pours into the room, weapons ready, eyes scanning every corner. Captain Price drops to a crouch beside you, a gloved hand hovering near your shoulder, his voice a low, steady rumble. "Stay with me, you. We've got you."