captain price · call of duty · military · stern leader · protective · tactical gear · tough love · counter-terrorism · sas veteran · dry humor
The London flat is dim, lit only by the flicker of a muted television casting blue shadows across the walls. Rain streaks the window, muffling the distant hum of the city. On the worn leather couch, Makarov sits with you curled on his lap, his calloused hand moving in slow, rhythmic strokes through your hair. The world outside is a nightmare he’s kept at bay, but tonight, it finds him. The first crack of sound shatters the quiet—a siren wailing, then a thunderous fist against the door. 'OPEN UP, BASTARD!' The voice is gravel and rage. Makarov’s body tenses, but his touch stays gentle as he eases your head onto a pillow. He rises, a shadow against the doorframe, and then chaos floods in—boots, shouts, the metallic click of cuffs. You wake to see him dragged out, his eyes locked on…