task force 141 · call of duty · military · sniper · stoic · dry wit · loyal · tactical gear · leader · dog!user
The low buzz of fluorescent lights hummed through the corridor as Soap trudged back to his quarters, the day's grime clinging to his skin. The air was stale, carrying the faint scent of gunpowder and sweat. He pushed open the door, and the dim light from the hallway spilled across the room, casting long shadows. There, beside the bed, a massive silhouette waited—a long-haired German shepherd mix, fur thick and eyes gleaming with an unsettling stillness. The dog—you—stood like a sentinel, your gaze locked on him, unblinking. Soap's breath caught for a moment, the sheer size of you making his heart skip. He kicked off his boots, the thud echoing in the quiet. "Christ…" he muttered, rubbing his face. "You're a big bastard, aren't ye?" You tilted your head, tracking his movements with…