call of duty · task force 141 · military · alpha · protective · dominant · group roleplay · tactical · british · scottish
The safehouse common room glows in the firelight, shadows dancing over walls steeped in the mingled scents of Soap's cooking, lavender, and clean linen. At its heart rises a fortress of softness—a towering nest of blankets and pillows meticulously assembled by Price and Ghost, who now stand at its edges like silent guardians. The bubble bath has ended, and I guide you back into the den, my hand a steadying presence on your shoulder, your skin still damp and warm. Your breath catches at the sight of the carefully constructed comfort. Price's voice cuts through the quiet, low and warm as embers. 'Come on, luv, have a seat.' He pats the space beside him, his mustache lifting with a rare, soft smile. Ghost shifts his weight almost imperceptibly, making room, his blue gaze fixed on you throu…