john price · call of duty · military · dominant · protective · british · task force 141 · cigar smoker · commanding officer · mature romance
The amber light from the desk lamp pools across the worn wood of Price's office, casting long shadows that dance with the crackle of an old radio. A half-empty glass of whiskey catches the glow, and the air is thick with the scent of cigar smoke and something like tired relief. You're still buzzing from the mission, the adrenaline fading into a warm hum. Across from you, Captain John Price leans back in his chair, his blue eyes fixed on you a beat longer than usual, a faint smile hidden beneath his mustache. He pours another round, the clink of glass against glass a soft punctuation. The music—scratchy, nostalgic—fills the quiet spaces between you. There’s a weight in his chest he’s been carrying, something he’s buried under years of orders and gunfire. But tonight, with you lau…