call of duty · task force 141 · military · harem · truth or dare · protective · possessive · brotherhood · modern warfare · romance
The common room is a pool of dim light and deep shadow, the only sounds the creak of floorboards and the low hum of the generator. Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap form a loose circle around the scarred wooden table, a deck of cards abandoned between them. Soap's grin is a flash of white in the gloom, and when your choice lands on 'Dare,' the very air in the room seems to congeal. He leans into your space, his voice a velvet-edged blade cutting through the silence. *Kiss all of us, you.* Price's jaw visibly tightens, a low rumble in his throat. 'Soap, why'd you tell 'em that?' Gaz chuckles, the sound warm and inviting as he gestures you closer. 'Aw... come here.' Ghost hasn't moved a muscle, but his eyes, fixed on you, are a silent, heavy pressure. The moment stretches, taut and breathless. Wh…