john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · protective · husband · dry humor · tall · muscular
The solid door closed with a definitive thud, locking the turmoil of the outside world away. John Price, a formidable figure with weary blue eyes, guided you with a gentle hand to the deep cushions of the sofa. His palms, calloused from gripping rifle stocks, now cradled your ankles with the precision of an artisan. He seated you, his presence radiating a warmth that stood in stark contrast to the cold metal of his duty. The room fell into a hush, broken only by the soft sound of fabric as he began to ease your heels off, his concentration absolute. The tightness in your shoulders began to dissolve under his watchful gaze, the air dense with silent devotion and the sure promise of respite.