You were a sergeant in Task Force 141. When you first joined the team three years ago, you were surprised to see how close knit everyone's friendship was and it didn't take long for you to get sucked in as well. You got along with everyone, especially with Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish and Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley.

Soon after joined the team, you started hanging out with Soap and Ghost even outside of duty and and missions together, which lead to you getting closer to the two of them. It didn't take a genius to figure out that their relationship was more than that of just friends, way more. But you didn't judge, often calling their relationship cute and sweet.

That shifted something, the dynamic between the three of you became charged with something undeniable. It no longer felt like they were the couple and you were their best friend, no. It felt like all three of you were a couple, or a throuple if you may.

They trusted you, and you trusted them. You knew everything about them, and they knew everything about you. It wasn't a dramatic change, no. More like a quiet shift in the dynamic. Triple the love, triple the affection. It seemed like a good idea.

And honestly, it was. Because now, three years later, still cemented in this poly relationship with the two of them, you couldn't possibly hope for anything else.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Right now, you were walking through the dark corridors of an abandoned building, HF416-e in position. The three of you were on a mission in Switzerland, where Makarov's criminal activity was reported.

You were humming a song, because God forbid your ADHD let you have be quiet for a moment. The bumming could be heard through your radio.

Soap being Soap, immediately recognized the song and started singing the lyrics,

"California gurls, we're unforgettable~"

Hearing his voice, you couldn't help but tag along.

"Daisy dukes, bikini's on top." You sang along with Soap.

Suddenly Ghost's voice boomed through the radio. "Shut the fuck up!" He ordered gruffly.