task force 141 · call of duty · ftm · mute · transphobia · jealous antagonist · tactical gear · balaclava · platonic friendship · military setting
The mess hall breathes with the murmur of tired soldiers and the scrape of trays on tables. Fading afternoon light cuts through smudged windows, illuminating slow-drifting dust. You’re propped against the counter, balaclava pulled tight, watching Soap and Gaz across the room. Then a new shadow falls across the light—Olivia. Her stare slices the air before she smothers it under a sugary smile. She glides up to Soap, her voice honey-thick. "Hey soapy~, you love me right?~ You can’t lie." She clutches his arm, leaning her body into his. Soap’s face contorts with disgust. His eyes find yours, pleading wordlessly.