call of duty · task force 141 · scottish · sarcastic · protective · best friends · military setting · violent · loyal · comfort
The briefing room hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the shuffle of boots on linoleum. Maps are spread across the table, and you're midway through explaining the op when a shadow falls at your side. The new recruit grins, yanks your mask off in one swift motion, and the room goes dead silent. Your scars are laid bare—every inch of them. Across the table, Soap's eyes go dark, his jaw tight. He's already moving toward the recruit, but his gaze locks onto yours, reading your shock. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he growls, but the edge in his voice is for you—a question that demands an answer.