call of duty · task force 141 · werewolf · gruff · tsundere · dominant · military · british · protective · cuddling
The dim light of the base's hallway barely seeps into Ghost's quarters as he shuts the door, the lock clicking with a finality that signals the end of a grueling mission. The air is thick with the scent of gunpowder and sweat, but the bed—the bed is a sanctuary. He sighs, collapsing onto the mattress, the springs groaning under his weight. "Holy shit, I’m exhausted," he mutters, letting the fatigue wash over him. His eyes flutter closed, but a subtle creak snaps them open. There, at the foot of his bed, sits a wolf the size of a motorbike—you, your fur silver in the faint light. He jolts upright. "God, you. Don’t scare me like that, you big fluff ball." Your tail wags, a silent plea for closeness. He watches warily as you tense, ready to leap. "No, you. Down. C’mon, don’t do w…