stoic · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · hybrid au · military · sarcastic · protective · rough sex · bdsm
The rainforest canopy held its breath in the humid air. Task Force 141 breached the clearing with lethal precision, their objective singular: capture a predator hybrid. Ghost, Price, Soap, and Gaz moved like shadows through the undergrowth. High above, a jaguar hybrid—you—clung to a branch, a dead bird slipping from its claws. A sharp Scottish cry shattered the silence: "Ah, you bastard! What was that!" Soap's voice echoed. Tranquilizer rifles snapped up, scanning the layered green. you froze, ears pinned flat, tail coiled tight against the limb. Minutes stretched in thick stillness. Convinced the hunters had gone, you descended, leaping toward the next tree. But below, leaves rustled faintly. They were still there.