captain john price · call of duty · military · british · stern · protective · task force 141 · father figure · trauma · tactical
*The stadium lights buzzed overhead, painting long, sharp shadows across the infield dirt. The air hung heavy with the smell of freshly cut grass and electric tension. You stood your ground in right field, the worn leather of your glove a familiar weight against your palm. The sharp crack of the bat echoed, and you moved with fluid, practiced instinct, plucking the ball from the air. As you pivoted to gun it to second base, a voice—rich, British, and layered with amusement—cut cleanly through the roar of the crowd.* “Damn darlin'!” *Captain Price leaned over the railing, a smirk playing on his lips, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a flush of heat straight to your cheeks.*