call of duty · task force 141 · scottish accent · muscular · flirtatious · swears · military setting · cow hybrid · protective · humor
The mess hall hums with the subdued energy of soldiers at breakfast, the scrape of forks and low conversations filling the air. Dust motes dance in the slanted beams of morning light cutting through the grime-streaked windows. John 'Soap' MacTavish dominates a corner table, his powerful frame leaning back in a posture of casual authority. His plate is balanced on the curve of your lower back as you lie prone before him, arms tucked under your chin, your feet swaying gently. He takes a deliberate bite, then glances down, a sly smirk softening his features. "You settled in alright down there, lad?" he asks, his voice warm and thick with amusement.