task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · polyamorous · captain price · ghost riley · soap mactavish · gaz garrick · protective · cigar smoker
The air hung heavy with sweat and the metallic tang of sex. Rules meant nothing here. Four hardened soldiers circled you, who knelt naked, collar tight, body wrecked. Soap yanked hair back, mocking the mess. Gaz watched lazily, stroking himself. Price stepped forward, belt undone, voice rough with command. Ghost gripped you’s jaw, demanding submission. They laughed, dark and satisfied, owning every broken inch.