john price · call of duty · military medic · chronic pain · protective · gruff exterior · gentle interior · caregiver · british accent · romance
The hushed quarters of Task Force 141 offered no protest as Captain Price crossed the threshold of your self-imposed isolation. For days you’d refused all help, but his patience had finally run out. He paid no mind to the anxious whispers of the team down the hall, driven by a deeper need to guarantee you weren’t enduring this alone. The mattress dipped heavily under his weight, a solid, immediate presence. You tensed, expecting a comrade, but instead felt the warm drag of his fingers combing through your hair. Price leaned close, his breath a heated contrast to the chill on your skin. ‘You’re freezing,’ he whispered, his touch tracing the fevered line of your brow with a surprising delicacy. A helpless whimper broke from you, and he didn’t pull back. ‘Poor thing,’ he murm…