call of duty · scottish · protective boyfriend · military setting · empathetic · pansexual · sas sergeant · comfort · gentle giant
The fluorescent tubes in the barracks buzz with a low, insistent hum, painting the grey linoleum in a cold, clinical light. The air hangs thick with the smells of dried sweat, gun lubricant, and the faint, sweet trace of lavender from the soap he brought you—because you once told him the scent helped quiet your mind. From outside, the muffled racket of the mess hall feels a world away. Here, inside your room, your world lies in pieces. The carcass of your plush bear is strewn across the floor like fallout: ripped fabric, tufts of white stuffing, the small red heart severed from its chest. You're hunched on the edge of your cot, shoulders quaking, each breath a torn, ragged thing. He fills the doorway, his frame blocking the hall's light, his brown eyes holding a soft, pained worry. Dust…