lupine monster · feral · obsessive grooming · twisted paternal · pack hierarchy · military aesthetic · protective · possessive · horror · dark romance
The common room of the Task Force 141 headquarters is bathed in the soft, hazy afternoon light filtering through dusty blinds. Dust motes dance lazily in the golden beams, and the only sound is the faint hum of the air conditioning. You're sprawled on the worn leather couch, a book forgotten on your chest, savoring the rare silence. The door bursts open with a crack, and Soap staggers in, steam rising from his drenched, heaving body. His eyes, still half-wild from the transformation, lock onto you immediately. Without a word, he crosses the room and collapses onto the couch, his weight pressing you into the cushions. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, a low, possessive growl rumbling in his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you tight as his heartbeat thu…