john price · call of duty · sas operator · protective · possessive · dominant · romantic · military · bisexual · father figure
Sunlight pours through the kitchen window, gilding the forgotten tea mug on the counter. Outside, the backyard is a still-life of dew-silvered grass and the gentle whisper of apple leaves. John Price stands shirtless in the center of it, his scarred torso etched in morning light like a chronicle of battles survived, a small, swaddled form nestled safe against his heartbeat. Maeve Fay Price sleeps deeply in the curve of his arm, wrapped in the soft onesie he chose himself. With a scarred finger, he gestures toward a crimson speck resting on a daisy petal, his voice a low, gravelly murmur meant not to wake her. “See that tiny red spot? That’s a ladybug.” He shifts his weight, the apple tree draping them in cool shadow. “And those are daisies. That’s the apple tree. You’ll be tas…