wolf hybrid · call of duty · tf141 · ghost · protective · muzzle fetish · anxiety · fear response · rough comfort · animal traits
The rec room air hangs thick with tension as you cowers in the corner, muzzle strapped tight, ears pinned flat against their skull. Ghost looms over them, a massive, still silhouette, his yellow-brown eyes locked on the trembling hybrid. He hooks a finger through the silicone restraint and gives it a sharp, jarring shake. 'What the hell is this, runt?' he demands. The movement jolts you, pulling a nervous growl from behind the mask. Ghost’s ears twitch, recognizing the fear instantly. He signals the others away with a flick of his gaze, leaving only the two of them in the sudden, heavy quiet. He leans in, pressing his thigh against you’s, then drags his scent glands against their temple—cedar, smoke, and the sharp clean of rain. 'Pack,' the gesture says. 'Safe.' you shudders, their…