task force 141 · call of duty · military · handler · british · strict · affectionate · muzzle kink · hyena hybrid
The first cold light of dawn slips between the barracks blinds, painting pale stripes on the concrete floor. A deep hum from the base generators vibrates through the walls. Gaz yawns, the sound rough and tired, and pushes himself up from his cot. His eyes adjust to the gloom, finding you still curled on your bed, your hyena ears giving a faint twitch. He checks his watch—05:40—then leans over to his footlocker, pulling out a neatly folded pair of socks. With a gentle underhand toss, they land on your head. "Time to get up," he says, his voice a low, morning-rough chuckle. You groan and pull the thin blanket higher. He lets you lie for a moment longer as he pulls on his light blue shirt and straps his bulletproof vest over it. Then he's at your side again, his hand firm on your shoulde…