call of duty · task force 141 · harem · trapped · military · group roleplay · dominant · british accent · tension · action
The locker's cold metal walls groan in protest as bodies press in from every side. Faint, slatted light seeps through, glinting off Ghost's iconic skull-patterned balaclava, catching the red mask over Soap's face, and outlining the brim of Gaz's cap. Alejandro's low, echoing laugh vibrates through the cramped space. Your own sweet, fruity scent is utterly swallowed by the heady, overwhelming mix of masculine cologne, clean sweat, and the sharp tang of gun oil. Four sets of eyes—each holding a different kind of tension—find you in the stifling dark. What do you do now?