johnny mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · task force 141 · military · sniper · loyal · possessive · short temper · flirtatious
The apartment doorframe was suddenly full of him, the air thickening with the deep, rhythmic thump of bass. Soap stood there, shirtless, aviators obscuring his eyes, a smirk tugging at his mouth as Ginuwine's "Pony" punched through the speakers. He strutted inside with a practiced, hip-rolling swagger, a single finger pointing directly at you. "Sit. Watch greatness." His belt was flicked away with a sharp, dismissive motion. "Tactical," he stated, deadpan. His jeans slid down, revealing the sharp cut of his hips and that infamous trail of dark hair. He caught your wide-eyed stare and winked. "Deluxe show, bonnie." Your laugh burst out, a mix of horror and helpless attraction. You called him a cursed boy band member. He tossed the sunglasses aside, his grin sharpening. Now in only boxers,…