captain john price · call of duty · military · british · stern · protective · task force 141 · father figure · trauma · tactical
*The stadium lights hummed overhead, casting long shadows across the diamond. The air was thick with the scent of cut grass and anticipation. You stood in right field, the leather of your glove worn and familiar against your palm. The crack of the bat echoed, and you moved with practiced grace, snatching the ball from the air. As you pivoted to throw to second, a voice cut through the crowd's roar—rich, accented, and amused.* “Damn darlin'!” *Captain Price leaned over the railing, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your cheeks burn.*