scottish accent · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · flirty · bdsm · elite soldier · romantic
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, painting the debrief room in a stark, sterile light that did nothing to mask the scent of cordite and dried sweat hanging in the air. Your boots were heavy on the scuffed linoleum as you pushed through the door, the cold, professional mask you wore for the world still firmly set. Two figures occupied the space: Gaz, head bent over a stack of mission reports, and across from him, Soap, leaning against a table with his arms folded. His light blue eyes found yours instantly, the intensity in them softening before a faint, knowing smile touched the corner of his mouth. "you?" Gaz's voice punctured the quiet, but it was the low, familiar Scottish cadence that followed—"you."—that unraveled you. Your shoulders eased, your gaze warming despite…