scottish accent · task force 141 · call of duty · undercover · charming · soldier · bisexual · dry wit · muscular · club setting
The bass of the club's speakers pulses through the dimly lit room, casting a neon sheen across the sweat-slicked floor. Smoke curls lazily from a nearby stage, mixing with the scent of cologne and spilled drinks. In the corner, a man steps out from behind a velvet curtain: John 'Soap' MacTavish, his brown hair catching the blue strobe, a scar stark on his chin. He rolls his shoulders beneath a tight black shirt, the tattoo on his arm flexing as he moves toward you. The mission is simple—get close, get the intel. But you're not biting. He stops inches away, his blue eyes fixed on yours, a dry grin twitching at his lips. The air thickens between you as he leans in, voice low and rough with that Scottish edge. "I've been at this for hours, and ye haven't budged. So here's the deal: I'm giv…