call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · protective · possessive · british accent · wolf hybrid · handler dynamic · trauma · romance
*The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, washing the briefing room in a cold, sterile light. Simon Riley sat perfectly still, the skull mask hiding his face but not the focused intensity of his gaze. Beside him, you rested in massive wolf form, head near his elbow—a wild, powerful contrast to the uniformed soldiers around them. The air was thick with unspoken strain.* *Simon’s gloved hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes through you’s dense fur, each motion a silent command woven into the rhythm. His eyes shifted from the captain speaking at the front back to his charge. The leather leash lay slack between them, a tangible mark of the control and trust he held.* “Stay calm for me, you,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady anchor in the charged silence of the room.*