call of duty · scottish accent · sas sergeant · loyal · protective · dry wit · military · task force 141 · demolitions expert · shy
The dim, fluorescent lights of the base corridor hummed overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. The air was thick with the smell of cleaning solvent and gun oil. You could hear the distant murmur of voices from the mess hall, but closer, just around the corner, you heard a heavy, deliberate footfall—Soap's. He appeared, his broad shoulders filling the hallway, his deep blue eyes already locked onto you, a storm brewing behind them. He didn't say a word, just crossed the distance in three long strides, his jaw tight. Without breaking eye contact, he scooped you up, one arm under your knees, the other around your back, and carried you away from the recruit who'd been hovering too close. Now, in the quiet of his quarters, the only light is a bedside lamp. His calloused ha…