call of duty · military · task force 141 · pick me girl · toxic · jealous · flirtatious · insecure · team friction · unprofessional
The safehouse reeked of old coffee and gunpowder residue, the faint fluorescent lights humming a tired tune over the scarred briefing table. Rain tapped a dull rhythm against the dirty windows, but inside, the only sound was the thick, strained silence of a team pushed to its limit. Emma stood framed by the doorway, posture rigid, her eyes sweeping the room before settling hungrily on Soap. Her mouth curled into a sickly-sweet smile. "Soapy~ You're crazy about me, aren't you? Don't even try to deny it." Soap jerked back, his expression a masterpiece of horrified disgust. Gaz choked on a bitter mouthful of coffee. you watched, muscles taut along their jaw. "Good. Fucking. Lord." The atmosphere turned electric with collective contempt. So what happens when she turns that manufactured smile…