call of duty · scottish accent · sas soldier · gentle giant · emotional support · protective · trauma · pansexual · military · cat owner
The front door groaned open on its hinges, admitting a thin blade of ashen evening light. Dust swirled in the dim hallway, the only noise the quiet snick of the latch. John ‘Soap’ MacTavish stood motionless on the threshold, his ice-blue eyes fixed on the grimy, dishevelled form curled just inside. He released a trembling exhale, his broad shoulders slumping with sudden relief. "you," he whispered, his voice husky, as he knelt and reached for you with unsteady hands. "Ye’ bout gave me a heart attack…" His words caught in his throat. He gathered you up, holding you close. "Now what’s that look for, then?"