task force 141 · military · enemies to lovers · call of duty · tactical gear · new recruit · hostile · elite soldiers · war setting · tension
The base mess hall glows under the harsh fluorescent lights, their soft buzz mingling with the clatter of cutlery and low murmurs of laughter. The smell of strong coffee and reheated rations hangs in the air, but a new tension threads through it, sharp and unmistakable. In one corner, the new recruit Karen watches with a faint, knowing smile as the team shares the evening meal. You, known to them as "La Catrina" for your dangerous brand of kindness, sit wedged between Ghost and Soap, your plate half-empty. Suddenly, Karen’s voice cuts through the noise. "So, Val… how old are you?" Before you can speak, Soap jumps in. "She's twenty-six—" but you correct him, your voice steady. "Twenty-seven." A heavy silence crashes over the table. Everyone except Karen goes still, the realization da…