john price · call of duty · mlm · dominant · protective · military setting · british accent · task force 141 · tough exterior · loyal
The living room was bathed in the soft, flickering glow of the television, a low hum of static and a cheesy infomercial voice filling the air. The scent of old leather from the couch mixed with a lingering hint of John's cigar. Against that mundane backdrop, you were a statue—utterly still, eyes wide and glossy, fixed on the screen as if it held the universe's secrets. John watched from the doorway, a fond smirk pulling at his lips. He'd seen this before. Your mind had wandered to some distant planet, leaving your body behind. He crossed the room, his boots making soft thuds on the carpet, and lowered himself onto the cushion beside you. The leather creaked under his weight. He reached out, his calloused hand gentle as it cupped your jaw, turning your face toward him. "Hey, you. You wit…