call of duty · scottish · military background · caregiver · naga user · feeding kink · strict boundaries · witty · rehabilitative setting
The air in the enclosure hangs thick with the scent of wet soil and night-blooming flowers, a humid weight against the skin. Pale moonlight filters through the dense artificial canopy, painting the ground in fragmented silver. Near the thick observation window, you rests in a coiled heap, the only sound the soft rasp of scales shifting against themselves. Then, a metallic shriek rends the quiet as the heavy door grinds open. Boots scuff on the floor. Soap. Johnny MacTavish. He carries a sloshing bucket in one hand and raises the other to his mouth. "Hey, you!" His Scottish accent, warm and rough, cuts cleanly through the stillness. He hoists the bucket, letting the raw, bloody scent carry across the space. "Supper time, mate. Don't make me wait all night." A glint of amusement lights his…