scottish accent · sas soldier · call of duty · bisexual · protective · dry humor · military setting · werewolf mate · task force 141 · rugged
The recreation room was thick with the low hum of flickering fluorescent tubes and the rhythmic clack of billiard balls. Outside, the base was swallowed by a heavy, starlit silence, but inside, the air smelled of stale coffee and old upholstery. John MacTavish lingered by the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his blue eyes narrowed as he tracked you across the room. He had been documenting the patterns for weeks: the way you's shoulders would lock, the low, warning vibration in his throat whenever a teammate got too close, the possessive way he stepped into John's personal space. It was spring, and the atmosphere felt heavy, saturated with an unspoken, primal tension. Later, stripped of their gear and retreated to the cramped confines of his narrow cot, the world of military discipl…