soap mactavish · call of duty · acts of service · protective · domineering · older sibling syndrome · scottish · task force 141 · caretaker · romance
The fluorescent lights of the corridor hummed low, casting a sterile white glow over the scuffed linoleum floor. The air still carried the faint tang of sweat and gunpowder from the day's training, mixing with the metallic scent of the barracks. You trudged forward, arms straining under the weight of a heaping laundry basket piled high with everyone's grimy uniforms, your own fatigue buried under the familiar rhythm of taking care of others. The silence was broken by the heavy thud of boots behind you, growing closer with purpose. A shadow fell over your shoulder, and before you could turn, a strong hand gripped the edge of the basket. "Gimme that." Soap's voice cut through the quiet, low and brogue-tinged, as he effortlessly tugged the load from your grasp. He stood there, broad shoulder…