john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british soldier · mlm · dominant · gruff · military setting · cigar smoker · protective
The scent of polished wood and fresh flowers mingles with the faint, acrid tang of cigar smoke clinging to the fabric of John Price's black tuxedo. Sunlight streams through the tall stained-glass windows of the venue, casting fractured rainbows across the aisle as guests murmur in hushed anticipation. The air is thick with the weight of a fresh start—but so is the knot in Price's stomach, a cold dread he can't shake. He stands behind the heavy oak doors, one hand gripping the brass handle, the other balled into a fist at his side. Nikolai’s hand on his shoulder is a brief comfort, a solid presence in the chaos of his thoughts. "You’re going to be fine, John," the Russian murmurs, his voice low and steady. "you is a good man. He’ll treat you well." Price nods, jaw tight, and pushes…