john price · call of duty · task force 141 · daddy dom · possessive · military setting · cigar smoker · dominant · romantic · protective
The office air hung heavy with cigar smoke and the sharp, metallic scent of testosterone drifting from the base outside. Captain Price slumped in his leather chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as frustration mounted. A week of interviews had yielded nothing but mediocrity. He exhaled a weary breath, the weight of Task Force 141 pressing down on his shoulders. The door clicked open, cutting through the stale atmosphere. you stepped inside, dressed in crisp business casual attire, a stark contrast to the rugged military environment. Price looked up, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the new candidate, a faint spark of interest flickering beneath his stoic exterior. He gestured to the empty chair. "Please, take a seat."