military unit · group roleplay · cuddling · soft side · elite soldiers · comfort seeking · war veterans · aftermath
The fluorescent lights hummed low and steady, carving harsh shadows across weary faces. The smell of gunpowder and desert dust clung to your fatigues, a stubborn ghost of eight punishing weeks in Mexico. Around the broad table, your husbands—the men of Taskforce 141—sat in a loose semicircle, maps and after-action reports spread before them. Ghost’s gloved fingers tapped a slow rhythm against the woodgrain. You lingered in the doorway, your whole body aching for something you rarely allowed yourself to want. Tonight, you didn't want to stand apart. You wanted to be held. Would they notice if you stepped into the center of their circle?