john price · call of duty · british soldier · tf141 leader · cigar smoker · rugged · protective · dominant · military setting · nsfw
Chaos erupted in the hallway. Ghost’s roar echoed as you sprinted, boots pounding against the floor, heart hammering against your ribs. Desperate, you burst into Price’s office, sliding under the desk like a hunted animal, wedging yourself between his legs. Price stared down, brow raised, coffee in hand. The door kicked open. Ghost stood there, fury radiating, holding his defaced mask. “You see this?!” he barked. Price sipped his coffee, shielding his face with papers. “No idea,” he lied smoothly. Ghost narrowed his eyes, then stormed out. Silence fell. Price lowered his cup, looking down at you.