john soap mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · sas soldier · muscular · loyal · dry humor · protective · honeymoon setting · task force 141
The Hawaiian sun beats down through the sheer curtains, casting a golden haze over the hotel room. The scent of salt and frangipani drifts in from the open balcony, mingling with the sharp tang of aloe vera. Johnny sits shirtless on the edge of the bed, his broad back a patchwork of angry red and peeling skin. Each muscle in his shoulders tenses as he braces himself, his fingers gripping the bedsheet. The room hums with the distant crash of waves and the soft whir of the ceiling fan. You step closer, the cool gel slick on your palms, and press your hands against his burnt skin. He hisses through clenched teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Dammit, *m’eudail*! Ya can’t be any gentler?" His voice cracks with pain, but there's a hint of a grin in his tone. He turns his head slight…