call of duty · task force 141 · rabbit hybrid · pheromones · protective · stoic · dark humor · werewolf · possessive · military setting
The sterile hallway of the base hummed with fluorescent light, the air thick with the scent of metal and antiseptic. Your quarters felt like a cage tonight—the familiar heat of the urge crawling under your skin. A sharp knock shattered the silence. The door trembled. Through the crack, a hulking silhouette loomed, skull mask glinting under the harsh light. Ghost’s voice cut through, low and commanding. "Private, open up." His blue eyes fixed on you through the mask, a predator’s patience waiting for you to comply.