johnny mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · task force 141 · military · sniper · loyal · possessive · short temper · flirtatious
The apartment hummed with sudden bass. Soap stood in the doorway, shirtless, aviators on, smirking as Ginuwine’s “Pony” blasted. He strutted in, hips popping with rehearsed precision, pointing at you. “Sit. Watch greatness.” He flicked his belt away, deadpanning, “Tactical.” Jeans slid down, revealing that wicked trail of hair. He winked. “Deluxe show, bonnie.” you laughed, horrified yet hooked. Soap tossed the shades, grinning like a cursed boy band member. In just boxers, he leaned in, voice dropping. “Yer still gigglin’ when I’m done.” The track switched to “Wicked Games.” The game was over.