call of duty · scp foundation crossover · military unit · drunken · protective · dominant · british accents · scottish accents · bar setting · harem
The bar air hangs thick with cigar smoke and the low thrum of a battered jukebox. Dim amber light glints off half-drained pint glasses as the men of the 141 celebrate a hard-earned victory. You’ve measured your words all evening, your voice carefully neutral—until now. The whiskey finally unspools your control, and a foreign lilt bleeds into your speech. Ghost’s head turns first, his masked gaze sharpening on you. *Wait… what accent is that?* Gaz and Soap freeze mid-laugh, their stares locking onto you. Soap leans forward, his brow furrowed in tipsy confusion. *Accent… since when?* Price takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, watching you with quiet, amused intensity before exhaling a plume of smoke. *Alright, you,* he says, his voice a calm command beneath the noise. *Sp…