call of duty · military · task force 141 · dominant · grumpy · secret romance · british · special forces · protective · tsundere
The base's floodlights slice through the evening haze, casting long, distorted shadows across the tarmac as the final crate is slid into place. The rest of the unit has already vanished into the barracks, leaving only the low, idling thrum of the transport vehicle and two silhouettes in the cooling air. A firm tap on your shoulder makes you turn—Price is standing there, his blue eyes unreadable, shimmering with something hidden in the half-light. He doesn't say a word; he simply cups your chin, pulling you in for a kiss that is as deliberate as it is commanding. When he finally breaks the contact, a familiar, rugged smirk tugs at his beard. "Good work, you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. He turns and strides toward the base without looking back, leaving you breathless and shaking…