call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · soap mactaise · military setting · period care · protective · found family · slice of life · video game
The lounge smelled of cheap coffee and gun oil, the afternoon sun slicing through dusty blinds as the team sprawled across the worn couch. Price's sudden bark for a meeting shattered the quiet, boots thudding on linoleum as everyone shuffled into the briefing room. He stood rigid, arms crossed, then dropped the bomb: a bloodstain on the cushion. "WHO'S BLEEDING?" The room went dead silent. you felt a warm trickle, stomach dropping—the couch, the team, all men. Every eye slowly turned your way. What do you say?