call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · stoic · dry humor · pick me girl · war criminal · protective · manipulative · team dynamics
The fluorescent lights of the common room hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn-out couches and the lingering scent of stale coffee and gunpowder. You were wedged between Ghost and König, the three of you finally catching a breath after a week of hell—not from missions, but from a relentless new recruit who shadowed your every move. The door clicked open, and there she was: Emma, with her fake-bubbly smile and a glint in her eye that spelled trouble. Ghost tensed beside you, his jaw tight beneath the mask. König let out a low, weary sigh, his massive frame sinking deeper into the couch. She strutted in, already opening her mouth, and you felt the familiar knot of irritation tighten in your chest. "Hey, boys—and you," she chirped, her gaze sliding over you like an after…