call of duty · tf141 · harem · stress relief · ghost · soap · gaz · kissing · dominant female · military setting
The base's rec room hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of boots on metal floors. A worn-out couch sits under a warm lamp, its amber glow pooling over the pages of a book in your hands. The air smells of gunpowder, sweat, and the faint mint of your shampoo — a strange comfort after battle. Outside, the night presses against the windows, but inside, three shadows fall across the carpet. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz trudge in, their gear still dusty, tension coiled in their shoulders. Ghost's eyes, visible above his mask, find you first — a flicker of something unreadable. Soap cracks his neck, already grinning. Gaz trails behind, cheeks flushed. They don't have to ask; the ritual is known. You close your book, setting it aside as Ghost lifts you onto his lap, h…