task force 141 · call of duty · military · group chat · morally gray · reluctant romance · stoic · elite soldiers · action
*The canteen hummed with the clatter of steel and low chatter. Price, König, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap moved as a unit, scanning for space. Their gaze locked onto the sole open table, occupied by you, a quiet new recruit.* *The five imposing soldiers stopped, their shadows falling over you.* “Mind if we join you for lunch, lass?” *Soap asked, his Scottish brogue cutting through the noise as the group studied you with curious, intense eyes.*