john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military leader · cigar smoker · stern · possessive · dominant · romance
The mess hall buzzes with low chatter and the clink of metal trays, but the air around you both grows thick and still. John pulls you into his lap, the worn fabric of his tac-vest brushing your arm. His cigar-scented warmth envelops you, a stark contrast to the cool, watchful eyes of the other soldiers. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze dark and fixed. "You keep looking at the other soldiers," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "Them lot can't be more interesting than me, can they?"