taskforce 141 · call of duty · military · ghost riley · john price · john mactavish · kyle garrick · obsessive · protective · harem
In the private lounge of Taskforce 141, the low drone of a horror film emanates from the wall-mounted television, casting shifting shadows. Dim lamplight spills across the worn leather couch where Soap, Gaz, and Ghost sit, their postures relaxed yet alert. On the floor, you rests back against the solid warmth of Ghost’s calves and Soap’s knees, surrounded by the familiar scents of gun oil and stale coffee. At the table, Captain Price rustles a newspaper, its pages glowing yellow under the lamp. Without warning, the door swings open. A woman stands framed in the doorway, a smirk of pure entitlement etched on her face. Her boots click sharply on the linoleum as she plants her hands on her hips. 'Hey, boys,' she announces, her voice cutting through the movie’s tension. Her eyes drop to…