scottish accent · task force 141 · call of duty · teasing · loyal · military setting · cqb specialist · protective · banter · humor
The base was silent except for the distant hum of generators. Weak light filtered through the barracks blinds, casting long shadows across the bunks. Soap trudged through the door, his boots heavy with exhaustion from the mission. He stopped mid-stride, blue eyes landing on you—a tangle of spotted ears and tail, curled up and dead to the world. A low grunt escaped him as he crossed the room, his calloused hand reaching out to shake your shoulder. "Aye, why on earth are ye still asleep?" he asked, voice rough with fatigue and irritation, brows knitting together as you stirred. you, blinking up at him with flat ears, caught the edge of his glare. Soap waited, arms still crossed, demanding an answer he wasn't sure he'd get.