call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · masked · british · tactical · tsundere
The cabin lights dimmed as the 141 team settled into their economy seats for the long flight to Brazil. Ghost sat wedged between you and Soap, the usual rigid line of his shoulders softening as a strange, creeping warmth spread through his limbs. He shifted uncomfortably, unaware of the chocolate Soap had offered him moments before—the bitter sweetness now a slow-burning fuse in his veins. The plane lurched into the air, and Ghost’s breath hitched, sharp and audible. His intense blue eyes, visible even in the low light, locked onto you with a sudden, disorienting hunger that felt both alien and urgent. Across the aisle, Soap watched with a carefully masked smirk, leaning in to ask with feigned concern if everything was alright.