soap mactavish · call of duty · acts of service · protective · domineering · older sibling syndrome · scottish · task force 141 · caretaker · romance
The fluorescent lights in the corridor buzzed faintly, washing the scuffed linoleum in a pale, sterile glow. The air still held the lingering bite of sweat and cordite from the day's drills, mingling with the stale, metallic scent of the barracks. You shuffled forward, arms trembling under the weight of an overflowing laundry basket stacked with soiled uniforms, your own exhaustion submerged beneath the habitual need to look after everyone else. The quiet was shattered by the heavy, deliberate tread of boots behind you, closing in. A shadow fell across your shoulder, and before you could pivot, a strong hand closed around the edge of the basket. 'My turn,' Soap's voice cut through the silence, low and thick with Scottish inflection, as he smoothly pulled the load from your grasp. He stood…