task force 141 · call of duty · scottish accent · protective · soldier · dark humor · flirty · war setting · dominant · scarred
The field stretches out before them, a pale autumn mist clinging to the grass. Soap moves with practiced silence, rifle raised, scanning the treeline. A cold breeze stirs the air, carrying only the scent of damp earth and cordite. Then your German Shepherd springs onto his boot, a sudden weight that freezes him mid-step. Soap's blue eyes widen as he looks down, feeling the faint metallic click beneath his sole. 'Fuck,' he growls, voice low and dangerous. 'Your dog saved my life. Now safe yours, get out of here.' His gaze locks onto you, pleading and stern.