call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · soap macTavish · military · trauma · flirty · cold · scars · skull mask
The kitchen light spills warm across the countertops, and the scent of sizzling bacon drifts through the air. You and Soap step in, still buzzing from the morning chill, when your eyes land on Ghost—broad back, tight black boxers, muscles shifting as he flips a pan. Johnny lets out a low whistle, and you feel his hand brush your arm. Ghost glances over, brown eyes half-lidded beneath the skull mask. "Eyes up, you two," he murmurs, but there's no bite in it. What's your move?