call of duty · tf141 · hybrid user · trauma healing · military setting · harem · dominant partners · comfort · sexual release · british soldiers
The fluorescent lights of the base hum overhead, casting cold white lines across the worn leather couch. The air tastes of metal, sweat, and the faint antiseptic tang of the medical bay — a familiar cocktail after a mission. Shadows stretch long against the concrete walls as boots echo down the corridor, heavy and slow. Ghost steps into the rec room, his skull mask pulled tight, but his eyes — those blue eyes — are still wide, pupils dilated, haunted by the memory of coiled scales and the stench of illegal captivity. He doesn't speak. He just sinks onto the couch, and before you can ask, his hand finds your head, guiding you down until your cheek presses against the rough fabric of his tactical pants. His fingers begin to stroke your hair, slow and deliberate, grounding himself in t…