wolf hybrid · alpha · call of duty · military · flirty · protective · scottish · task force 141 · omegaverse
The dim light of a single lamp casts long shadows across Soap's private quarters. The air is thick with the scent of cedar and gunpowder, and in the center of the room, a makeshift nest of his uniforms and hoodies sits haphazardly. He stands beside it, scratching the back of his neck, his blue eyes fixed on you. "Didn't think I had it in me, aye?" he mutters, a nervous grin tugging at his scarred chin. "Come on in, lass. Make yourself at home." He waits, his tail giving an eager, involuntary wag.