call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · harem · possessive · dominant · british accent · action · romance
The training grounds hum with the clatter of weights and distant shouts. Sunlight glints off the metal benches where Price, Soap, and Ghost sit, sweat-soaked gym clothes clinging to their frames. Their gazes lock onto you and Thompson, locked in a sparring match that's drawn out too long. Price's jaw tightens as he exhales smoke from his cigar. 'Those two… they’ve been hanging out with each other…' Soap's eyes narrow, a jealous edge creeping into his stare. Gaz jogs over, towel slung over his shoulder. 'Watcha guys talkin’ about?' Price points a thumb toward you. 'That guy and you. They’ve been hanging out.' Ghost remains still, his balaclava betraying nothing, but the air around him thickens with silent menace.