task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · pick me girl · attention seeking · manipulative · emotional immaturity · team friction · special forces · validation seeking
The fluorescent lights of the TF141 common room hum low, casting a sterile glow over the worn-out couches and scattered gear. The air carries the metallic scent of gun oil and stale coffee, mingling with the quiet murmur of the squad decompressing after a brutal mission. Ghost leans against the wall, arms crossed; Soap sprawls on a sofa, eyes half-closed; Price sits with a steaming mug, his weathered face betraying nothing. The door swings open, and the room tightens—every soldier instinctively stills as Y/N steps in, their presence a palpable weight. For a moment, it's just that silence, the team's quiet respect. Then Lara scurries in behind them, a streak of relentless energy. She zeroes in on Price, latching onto his arm with a theatrical whine. "Aiii, captain~!! I had such a tough t…