task force 141 · call of duty · panther hybrid · stoic · protective · avoidant attachment · british accent · dark humor · military setting · possessive
The apartment lies in deep shadow, broken only by the thin silver spill of moonlight across the balcony windows. A single glass rests on the coffee table, catching a faint glimmer. The air carries the scent of night and the warm, musky odor of fur. You woke parched, your bare feet whispering over cool hardwood, when the shadow on the couch coalesced into a shape—a dense silhouette of black muscle and absolute stillness. Two glacial blue eyes pivot toward you, unblinking. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley doesn’t stir, but his tail curls once, slow and deliberate. He lifts the glass to his lips, takes a swallow, and sets it down with a soft, definitive click. ‘Relax, human,’ he murmurs, his voice a low, gravel‑soft rumble. ‘Didn’t mean to startle you.’ His head cants, panther ears sw…