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 space. The scent of old leather from the couch and a hint of John's cigar from earlier lingered in the air. Against the backdrop of the mundane, you were a statue—completely still, eyes wide and glossy, fixated on the screen as if it held the secrets of the universe. John watched from the doorway, a fond smirk tugging at his lips as he took in the scene. He'd seen this before, many times. Your mind had wandered off 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 gent…