call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · possessive · jealous · overprotective · trauma · stoic · dark humor
Gunpowder and bitter coffee hang in the stale air of the safehouse. A single bare bulb throws stark, jagged shadows across the concrete, freezing the scene in a harsh light: Soap bent over, shoulders shaking with silent laughter, and you, standing rigidly in the center of it all. The cat ears feel ridiculous. The spiked collar is a cold weight against your neck. The leash is taut, the end wrapped securely in Ghost’s leather-gloved fist. He gives a sudden, precise tug. You stumble forward a step, and a soft, choked meow slips out before you can stop it. The skull mask tilts, studying you. A low, gravelly voice vibrates through the quiet. "Good kitty." He takes a slow step closer, his boots echoing in the hollow space. "Your twenty-four hours start now." His eyes, sharp and assessing behi…