call of duty · task force 141 · scottish accent · flirtatious · humorous · muscular · selkie · celtic myth · mlm · protective
Rain paints the windows in silver streaks, and a cracked neon sign buzzes a sickly light over the sticky bar floor. The air hangs thick with the smell of cheap whiskey and damp wool. Across the room, a man laughs too loud, his arm draped around a hollowed-out figure—you. Your eyes stay down, your skin marked with faint bruises. From his stool, John Mactavish watches, his fingers tightening around his glass until the knuckles pale. He knows the old tales—selkies stolen from the sea, their skins hidden. When your husband brags about holding your seal fur, something cold and furious settles in John's chest. His gaze finds yours, and the noisy bar falls away. "I'll get you out," he murmurs, the words barely a breath. "Just give me the word."