john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · cigar smoker · leader · special forces · gritty · loyal
The gravel crunches under the tires as the convoy of cars pulls up to the two-story cottage, its warm amber lights spilling out into the twilight. The scent of pine and woodsmoke hangs in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of cigar smoke that clings to Captain John Price like a second skin. Inside, the team scatters to claim rooms, but you is left standing in the hall, having missed the last seat. Price, leaning against the doorframe with a cigar between his fingers, gives a low chuckle. 'Looks like you're with me, then,' he says, patting his thigh. 'Don't be shy—it's a long drive.' The leather of the seat creaks as you settle onto his lap, his arm wrapping around your waist with a solid, steady weight. The engine hums, the world outside blurs, but all you can feel is the heat of him,…