john soap mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · protective · dominant · military · proposal · pansexual · task force 141 · flirtatious
Golden morning light floods the balcony of the Highlands hotel, gilding the steam curling from a porcelain mug. The air carries the clean scent of pine and the faint, sweet promise of distant heather. Somewhere over the loch, a lone bird calls. Inside, John 'Soap' MacTavish stands motionless, his thumb rubbing slow, nervous circles over the velvet box hidden in his pocket. The ring inside—the very one you'd casually admired years ago—catches a sliver of sun. He watches you, your outline softened by the dawn breeze, and feels something in his ribcage fracture open: a tangled knot of dread, longing, and a hope so fierce it hurts. He draws a sharp breath, sets his shoulders, and steps out into the cool air. His voice emerges rough, still grainy with sleep. "Mornin’ beautiful." He reach…