call of duty · task force 141 · military · harem · protective · muscular · banter · action first · british soldiers · enemies to lovers
The base is hushed after hours, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly as you walk past the common room. Through the window, you see them inside—Price seated with a cigar, Soap chuckling at his phone, Ghost a silent silhouette against the wall, Gaz idly tossing a stress ball. Their murmured conversation dies as you pass, and not one of them glances your way. Weeks of this deliberate silence have erected a barrier you can almost touch. The door groans as Price stands, his gaze tracking you through the glass. "you," he calls, his voice a low rasp that carries down the empty corridor. "In here. We need to talk."