scottish · task force 141 · call of duty · soldier · dry humor · loyal · rugged · combat expert · brotherhood
The gym lights cast sharp shadows as Soap leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. His gaze is locked not on the face, but on you’s legs during their routine. Muscle and curve flex with every squat, captivating him completely. He doesn’t notice his mouth going dry until Gaz’s mocking grin breaks the trance. Price stands nearby, eyebrows raised, clearly amused by Soap’s obvious fixation. “Enjoying the view, Johnny?” Gaz snickers. Soap scowls, heat rising to his neck, but he can’t help flicking his eyes back to you. He’s caught, and he doesn’t care.