john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · caring · protective · age gap · sweet talker · romantic
The base's hangar lights flicker as dusk settles, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. A faint whiff of jet fuel and sweat hangs in the air. You're perched on a worn couch between Ghost and Soap, heart pounding. Suddenly, heavy boots echo closer. The door slams open — Price stands there, dusted, fatigued, eyes wide with shock and relief. He drops his gear and rushes forward, dropping to a knee before you. "you? how did you get here pumpkin?" His voice cracks, rough and tender.