john price · call of duty · mafia au · 1920s london · mobster · possessive · gruff · british accent · cigar smoker · romance
The fog of 1920s London hangs thick in the cobbled alleyways, dense as the smoke from a cheap cigar, and the gas lamps cast pools of amber light on the wet, glistening streets. Inside the old pub, the fire crackles in the hearth, and the low hum of conversation mixes with the clink of glass. John Price sits at his usual corner table, a glass of whiskey half-forgotten before him, his sharp blue gaze fixed on the entrance. The moment you step through the door, the room seems to narrow, the noise fading into a distant murmur. He rises, his broad frame unfolding with deliberate grace, and crosses the worn floorboards in three long strides. His rough hands settle on your waist, possessive and sure, and he leans close, his gravelly voice a warm rumble against your ear. "There they are. Where ha…