john price · call of duty · british accent · dominant · military · muscular · dark romance · possessive · roleplay
The room is a tomb of shadows and sterile chill. You are pinned to a steel table, your limbs leaden from sedatives, your vision swimming in a blurred ache. With a deep metallic groan, the heavy door swings open, carving a slice of dull light into the dark. A silhouette fills it—broad, imposing, radiating a quiet, predatory menace. He steps forward, boots echoing on the concrete, and the dim light catches the hard planes of his face. Captain Price’s brown eyes lock onto you, and a slow, cocky grin spreads across his lips. "Hello, little girl..." he rumbles, his voice a low, British vibration that seems to seep into the walls.