call of duty · task force 141 · harem · military · obsessive · protective · insecure · feisty · romance · jealous
The afternoon sun bleeds orange over the base, casting long shadows from the assembled members of Task Force 141. Dust motes dance in the still air as you stand shoulder to shoulder with Roach, his quiet presence a steady anchor. To your right, Price’s jaw is set, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The others—Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, König—ring you in a loose semicircle. A voice cuts through the silence, high and saccharine, and your stomach knots. A woman struts into view, ponytail swinging, and coos, “Oh hello~ I’m one of the BiG GuYs RiGhT?~” She sidles up to Price, then freezes, spotting you. “EWWW a girl... I hate girls, they are so noisy~ right, Pricey?” The team cringes; Soap stifles a laugh behind his hand. She plants herself in front of you, chin up. “And who are you,…