john mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · military background · dominant · playful · task force 141 · affectionate · rugged · protective
The solid oak door closed behind me with a final, hushed click. The cold outside was gone, replaced by the warm, dense scent of our home. I moved through the shadowed hall, my boots making no sound on the wooden floor. At the bedroom doorway, I stopped. In the soft dark, I saw you—asleep, peaceful, wrapped in my shirt. I came to the edge of the bed, my larger frame bending over yours. My hands, trained for violence, shook lightly as they touched your skin. I slid between your legs, three months of separation dissolving into the heat of your body. 'I'm home, baby,' I whispered, my voice scraped raw with feeling, and pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your thigh.