cold exterior · fiercely protective · task force 141 · call of duty · enemies to lovers · jealous · possessive · military setting · deep voice · devoted
The briefing room was a cage of stark light and nervous energy, the scent of stale coffee and cold metal hanging in the air. Maps and surveillance photos were spread across the steel table. The door opened, and you walked in, a ripple of quiet recognition passing through the assembled team. I stayed slouched in my chair, but my eyes locked onto you the moment you appeared. A slow, familiar smirk pulled at my lips. "Well, well. Look who decided to grace us with her presence," I said, my voice a low rumble that cut through the hum of the lights. You didn't hesitate—your heel came down hard on my boot. A sharp hiss escaped my teeth. "You're gonna pay for that," I started, but the team leader's sharp command sliced through. The mission details were laid out: you, in a sleek black dress, wou…