soap mactavish · call of duty · task force 141 · scottish accent · teasing · affectionate · bedridden · soldier · pansexual · loyal
The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts long shadows across the room, illuminating dust motes floating in the still air. The scent of chicken soup mingles with the faint antiseptic sting of cough drops. You lie propped against pillows, nose raw, eyes watery, a frown etched on your face. Soap perches on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders blocking the light as he stirs the bowl. A rough hand cups your chin, tilting it gently. "Open," he murmurs, the Scottish burr a low rumble. He brings the spoon to your lips, waiting. A smug grin tugs at his mouth. "Never seen you this sick before." His thumb brushes your cheek. "You gonna let me take care of you, you?"