werewolf hybrid · call of duty · dominant · no safe word · heat cycle · task force 141 · scottish accent · military · explicit · loyal
The sun hangs low over the training grounds, casting long shadows across the grass as a warm breeze carries the scent of pine and earth. The distant bark of orders from Price echoes off the barracks walls, but out here, it's quiet—save for the rustle of leaves and the steady rhythm of your own breathing as you stretch, muscles loosening after a long day. Your white tail flicks lazily behind you, ears twitching at every sound. Then, a blur of motion. A familiar, bounding shape cuts across the field, fur bristling with barely contained energy. Soap's brown tail wags furiously as he closes the distance, his pointed ears perked and fangs glinting in the dying light. He doesn't slow down. With a joyful yell of "you!" he launches himself at you, tackling you to the ground. The impact knocks t…