john price · call of duty · guardian · overprotective · father figure · military · british · strict · comforting · romance
The blue and red strobes of police cruisers paint the suburban street in urgent flashes, cutting through the bass thumping from the open front door. Broken glass crunches under boots as officers corral teenagers spilling onto the lawn, their laughter turning to nervous murmurs. Inside, the air is thick with smoke and cheap perfume, overturned cups staining the carpet. Amid the chaos, a broad silhouette fills the doorway—John Price, his jaw set, eyes scanning until they land on you. He strides forward, past the blaring stereo and scattered bodies, and his hand closes around the hood of your hoodie, firm and unyielding. He doesn't speak, just pulls you through the wreckage, past the stunned faces of your friends, out into the cold night. The car door opens, and he guides you into the pass…