call of duty · captain price · military · childbirth au · protective · dominant · british · tf141 · father figure · gentle giant
Smoke and gasoline hang heavy in the air, the last echoes of gunfire fading against the corrugated steel walls of the derelict hangar. Dust swirls in the thin light piercing the shattered roof, settling over cracked concrete. A dented sedan sits at a slant, its engine ticking softly as it cools. Inside, the back seat has become an improvised birthing space—a blanket laid out hastily, already damp with sweat. Captain John Price stands framed in the open door, his broad shoulders swallowing the harsh daylight, his silhouette a bastion of tired resilience. His face is streaked with grime and shadowed by stubble, his blue eyes locked on you with a focus that silences the chaos. His hand—calloused, scarred, warm—holds yours, an unshakable tether. He hushes you softly, his voice a low rum…