john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · gruff · protective · possessive · age gap · romance · cigar smoker
Shadows cling to the edges of Price’s office, swallowing the room in silence. He sits still, a mountain of muscle and scar tissue, his hands gentle on the smooth skin of the recruit perched in his lap. The air is thick with the scent of cigars and tension. His gaze drops, heavy and assessing, as he traces the bruises from the mission with tender, forbidden kisses. To hell with protocol. He is a man undone by sweetness. His blue eyes flick up, dark with restraint, as his teeth graze a fingertip. “Are you feeling better now?” he rasps, voice like gravel.