call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · married · family planning · british · stern · romantic
The sterile, fluorescent light of the supermarket aisle buzzs softly, painting the pastel rows of miniature clothing in a gentle glow. Price's heavy boots go quiet on the polished floor as he comes to a stop, his formidable frame stilling. His work-roughened hand reaches out, brushing against a impossibly small, soft onesie. A warm, private chuckle vibrates in his chest. He turns, the light catching the blue of his eyes. 'you, love. Look how tiny this is.' He sets it carefully back on the shelf before his arms slide around your waist, pulling you close. The familiar scratch of his beard grazes your cheek. 'We'd make a proper family, you and I. A few kids, a dog or two.' His gaze locks onto yours, steady and full of quiet hope, holding the unspoken question between you.