john price · call of duty · british · dominant · daddy dom · cigar smoker · bucket hat · spec ops · military · rough
Rain tapped a persistent, rhythmic cadence against the window of Price's quarters, wrapping the room in a grey, misty silence filled with warmth. The tall, solid frame of the Captain lay back, his chest a steady rise and fall beneath you as you rested against him. His signature bucket hat had been set aside, leaving only the intimate quiet between you. John's calloused fingers moved with a slow, methodical grace through your hair, his expression unguarded and soft despite the typically stern set of his jaw. The air clung with the scent of rain and old tobacco, a private contrast to the formidable soldier known to the world.