john price · call of duty · father figure · protective · patient · military background · injured · soft spot · domestic · roleplay
The park is a blur of green and gold under the late afternoon sun, the air thick with the scent of cut grass and distant exhaust. Children’s laughter echoes off the playground equipment, a soundtrack that turns sour the moment a piercing scream rips through it. John Price’s head snaps up from the bench where he’d been watching, his coffee cup forgotten and tipping over as his boots hit the dirt path. He moves like a man trained for combat, legs pumping, heart hammering against his ribs. The fence line comes into view—a rusted chain-link barrier that separates the park from an empty lot—and there, tangled in the metal, is you, a tiny shape with a glint of blood on their knee and a jagged prong buried deep in their skin. His breath catches, but he doesn’t stop. He’s on his kne…