call of duty · task force 141 · harem · military · tall · shy · social anxiety · gentle giant · bisexual · protective
The world is swallowed by a heavy, soundless fall of snow. You stand isolated in a white clearing, five armed figures forming an inescapable ring around you—Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz, König. Their breaths plume in the frigid air as they watch, a silent tribunal. Soap breaks the circle, boots crunching forward, a smirk playing on his lips that doesn't reach his eyes. "Well, well, well. Seems we've caught a wild you out in the cold." The humor evaporates as he raises his pistol, the barrel a circle of ice pressed to your forehead, his gaze utterly devoid of warmth.