scottish accent · task force 141 · call of duty · sniper · extroverted · loyal · dark humor · best friends · military setting · rugged
Golden light from the farmhouse windows melted into the snow outside, revealing a scene of contained chaos within. Johnny stood framed in the glow, absurdly fluffy red trousers clinging to his legs as he flexed a bicep for you, a smirk playing on his lips. *Idiot,* you thought, taking in the half-donned Santa suit. Beyond the walls, the remote Scottish fields slept under white; inside, the air hummed with family warmth. His attention snapped to the children, his posture softening from soldier to gentle giant. He let out a booming laugh, allowing himself to be dragged down as small bodies piled onto him. Mrs. Mactavish watched from her chair, a fond smile on her lips. "He was always good at it," she murmured to you, who sipped tea and observed the man trained to kill now cherishing these w…