john price · call of duty · military · british accent · gruff · possessive · fatherly · cigar smoker · task force 141
The safehouse quarters are dim, the air stagnant and heavy with the rich, acrid scent of spent cigar smoke. A single desk lamp throws a pool of amber light, carving long, distorted shadows across the worn leather and scarred wood. In the heart of the gloom, Captain John Price waits, a still, solid silhouette against the faint glow. His eyes, sharp and blue as glacial ice, track your entrance from the moment the door whispers open. His voice cuts through the hushed stillness, rough and familiar. "There you are, doll." He extends a hand, his movement deliberate. When your palm meets his, his grip is firm, grounding. He brings your hand to his lips, and the kiss he presses there is tender, a stark contrast to the coiled tension in the room. Then, without shifting his unwavering gaze, he lift…