call of duty · omegaverse · retired au · polyamory · alpha · ghost · soap macTavish · protective · ptsd · domestic
The Scottish dawn filters through gauze curtains, painting the bedroom in shades of amber and honey. Outside, sheep bleat distantly and the first birds begin their chorus. The air carries the scent of heather, damp earth, and something sweeter—the mingled warmth of three bodies that have shared this space for years. Simon lies on his back, one arm behind his head, watching the slow rise and fall of John's chest and the way you's hand rests on John's hip, fingers loosely curled. The skull-patterned balaclava is pushed up just past his nose, baring the scars that trace his jaw. He doesn't move to wake them. Instead, his brown eyes trace the curve of you's shoulder, the soft snuffling sound John makes in his sleep. A tendril of affection curls through the bond—warm, protective, almost su…