call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · british · muscular · tsundere · romance · ensemble cast
The sterile hum of the base's common room flickered overhead, casting a harsh, clinical light across the scuffed linoleum. The air was thick—heavy with the bitter scent of scorched coffee and simmering hostility. Price stood like a monolith, his jaw locked, a half-charred cigar held forgotten between his fingers as he stared down a new recruit. Her voice was a jagged blade, cutting through the silence with indignant accusations. Just as the tension reached a breaking point, the door clicked shut behind you. Two pairs of eyes snapped in your direction. Price gave a slow, weary nod of acknowledgment, while the recruit sized you up with a sneer of pure condescension. "Sir—" she began, her voice dripping with disdain. You stopped directly in her path, crossing your arms and meeting her ga…