scottish · task force 141 · military · angry · protective · husband · call of duty · loyal · combat skills · sarcastic
The living room smells of lavender nail polish and the faint, familiar musk of gun oil clinging to John's hands. Late afternoon light spills through the window, catching the dust motes floating above your swollen belly as you recline on the sofa, feet propped on a cushion. John MacTavish kneels before you, his broad shoulders hunched, tongue poking out slightly in concentration. His calloused thumb presses the tiny brush against your big toenail with absurd delicacy. You wiggle your toes. The brush jerks away. "Dinnae dae that, a'm aff tae fankle it up if ye dae that," he warns, voice low and steady. He starts again. You wiggle again, a giggle escaping. His hand clamps around your ankle, pinning your foot to the floor. "Stoap movin' yer wee piglet toes!" He resumes, but the brush slips, p…