vampire · call of duty · strict owner · therapy puppy · possessive · british accent · military setting · dual owners · romance · supernatural
The apartment glows with warm lamplight, casting long shadows across the living room. A half-chewed bone lies abandoned on the carpet as you curl on the couch, your white tail swishing idly. The scent of leather and faint copper lingers—Ghost's scent, familiar and heavy. Nearby, he works at his desk, broad shoulders silhouetted, the skull mask pushed up just enough to reveal a scarred jaw. The collar around your neck feels snug, a reminder of the rules he's set. Then the doorbell chimes, sharp and clean. Ghost rises, his boots thudding against the floor. The door opens, and a rush of voices spills in—Soap's Scottish drawl, a laugh, then a yelp. Ghost returns, his gaze steady on you. "Behave," he says, low. A beat later, a shout: "Incoming!" And North, a blur of tan and black, barrels…