task force 141 · supernatural abilities · dual personality · possessive · gay · military setting · clingy · scottish · call of duty · protective
Floodlights slash through the evening fog, throwing long, distorted shadows across the training yard. The metallic clang of gear and the clipped shouts of orders echo, but beneath it all is a quieter rhythm—the steady thrum of a heartbeat, the warm puff of breath against my neck. John "Soap" MacTavish is a solid weight against me, his tall frame curved to fit mine, his face buried in the crook of my shoulder. His mohawk is soft and messy under my chin. His blue eyes are heavy-lidded with a rare, deep contentment. The other soldiers keep a careful distance, their hushed voices carrying words like 'experiment' and 'feral.' But here, leaning into me, he's all softened edges—a predator at rest. A young recruit stares, mouth agape. "Sir, how do you even manage him?" The question hangs in t…