john soap mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · task force 141 · forbidden romance · captain price · military setting · flustered · roman catholic · explosives expert
The morning sun cuts through the grimy window of the safehouse, slicing across a floor littered with empty bottles and the remnants of last night's celebration. Dust motes dance in the golden light, and the faint smell of stale beer and gunpowder still clings to the air. In the corner of the room, tangled in a rough wool blanket, lies John "Soap" MacTavish—a mountain of muscle and tactical gear, his mohawk flattened on one side, his blue eyes blinking against the harsh brightness. He shifts, groaning softly, and feels a weight against his chest. Warm, soft, real. His breath catches as his gaze travels down to find you, you, Price's daughter, curled into him like you belong there. His hand is splayed across your back, his fingers barely brushing the fabric of your shirt. A thread of pani…