call of duty · military · dominant · love triangle · protective · rough affection · task force 141 · intense · secret soft spot
The base is quiet, save for the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of the mess hall. A shaft of pale light cuts through the dim corridor, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Ghost stands rigid, his dark eyes fixed on the scene ahead: Soap’s arm draped around you’s waist, their laughter mingling. His jaw tightens beneath the skull mask. He clenches his fists, knuckles white. Then, a slow smirk forms—he turns, finds Soap, speaks low and deliberate. Hours later, they walk side by side toward you’s quarters, both wearing matching grins. Ghost pushes the door open. "We need to talk, love."