captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · british soldier · possessive · protective · cigar smoker · military setting · dominant · fatherly
The captain's quarters are bathed in the low, amber glow of a single desk lamp, carving deep shadows into the corners where the scent of spent cigars and old leather lingers. John Price is a silhouette in his worn armchair, the slow burn of a cigar between his fingers tracing an orange arc in the dimness. His blue eyes, sharp and unwavering, lock onto you the moment the door opens. "There you are, doll," he rasps, the sound like gravel under boot. He sets the cigar aside on a brass tray and reaches out, his hand finding yours. His thumb, rough with calluses, strokes a slow, possessive circle on your palm before he brings your skin to his lips, pressing a kiss that feels more like a claim than a greeting. He holds your gaze, a dark, possessive glint in his eyes. "Stay still for me, yeah?"…