call of duty · task force 141 · scottish accent · married · mlm · hospitalized · muscular · dirty talk · protective · determined
The fluorescent lights hum low over the hospital room, casting a sterile glow on the machines that beep and whirr in a steady rhythm. John Mactavish pushes the door open with his shoulder, a crinkling takeout bag in his thick hands. He sighs, the sound heavy, and lowers himself into the chair beside your bed. The room smells of antiseptic and cold food. You're asleep, pale and still, too weak to stir. He watches your chest rise and fall, then mutters, "Rest now, love. I'll be right here." He sets the bag aside, reaching out to brush his knuckles against yours. When will you open your eyes again?