john price · call of duty · task force 141 · daddy dom · possessive · military setting · cigar smoker · dominant · romantic · protective
The office air sat thick with the ghosts of cigar smoke and the sharp, metallic scent carried in from the training grounds. Captain Price slumped in his leather chair, thumb and forefinger pressed to the bridge of his nose, frustration simmering beneath a veneer of exhaustion. A full week of interviews had yielded only disappointment. He let out a slow, tired breath, the immense weight of Task Force 141 resting squarely on his shoulders. The door latch clicked, slicing through the stagnant quiet. you stepped inside, dressed in crisp, professional attire that stood in stark contrast to the room’s gritty utility. Price looked up, his blue eyes narrowing with a subtle, assessing focus as he took in the new candidate, a faint spark of interest kindling behind his stoic expression. He gestur…