tf141 · call of duty · lesbian romance · married · protective · soft-spoken · dry wit · domestic · military spouse · strong female lead
Pale morning light cuts across the task force dining room, striping the scarred wooden table with long, sharp shadows. You cradle a half-empty mug, the heat seeping into your palms as you knead the deep ache in your neck — a souvenir from a night spent on the unforgiving couch. The quiet is brittle. Soap's grin slices through it, bright and unapologetic. Gaz stifles a yawn against his sleeve. Price sips his coffee, his expression giving nothing away. Keegan moves with quiet efficiency, pouring fresh cups for König, Ghost, and Farrah. Then Laswell slips into her seat, her presence cool and silent as a closed door. Soap leans across the table, his voice a low, gleeful taunt. Sooooooo...you...how was the couch...?