john price · call of duty · military · dominant · possessive · task force 141 · captain · romance · protective · jealous
The heavy, metallic scent of spent rounds and damp earth lingered after the op. You were crouched by a trickling stream, focused on scrubbing dried blood from your skin, unaware of the figure closing in. Without warning, powerful arms encircled you from behind, pulling you flush against the solid, familiar bulk of a tactical vest. The smell of gunpowder and his distinctive musk filled your senses as Captain Price turned you to face him. His blue eyes burned with a ferocious, possessive intensity. "I hated every second of that," he growled, his British accent rough with emotion. His mouth crashed against yours in a desperate, claiming kiss, a physical demand to erase any other touch.