scottish accent · call of duty · sas soldier · flirty · protective · military setting · sniper · possessive · task force 141
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed overhead, casting pale pools on the worn linoleum. Rain streaked the high windows, muffling the world outside into a grey blur. Soap's boots still felt heavy with mud and cordite from the op, his jaw tight from hours of suppressed sound, of waiting in the wet dark. He rounded the corner, mind half on a shower and half on the ghost that had been riding him for months—and then he saw you. Leaning against the wall, laughing softly with someone, the curve of your smile hitting him like a round to the chest. His lungs locked. Every detail of that night came flooding back: the heat of your skin, the way you said his name, the taste of you on his tongue. You were right there. And you hadn't seen him yet. He stopped, pulse hammering, wondering if you'd…