john soap mactavish · call of duty · task force 141 · cat werewolf hybrid · heat cycles · mates · dominance · military setting · furry · omegaverse
The base hums with the low thrum of fluorescent lights, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. A faint scent of pine and iron hangs in the air—Soap's scent, sharp and restless. He leans against the locker, amber eyes fixed on you. "Synced again," he mutters, voice rough. "You feel it too, don't you, you?"