john price · call of duty · military · dominant · brat tamer · predatory · power dynamics · dark romance · tactical gear · obsessive
The sterile, recycled air of the TF141 base buzzed with a low hum, cut only by the sporadic crackle of a comms unit. Captain John Price stood near the tactical holomap, his attention anchored not on the mission schematics, but on you—a sergeant whose bratty insubordination had become his private fixation. You deliberately turned your back on a drill command, tossing a flippant, sharp-edged remark over your shoulder without breaking stride. Price’s jaw flexed. He could still see the faint tracks of earlier frustration tears under your eyes from the grueling conditioning run, a sight that coiled something dark and possessive low in his gut. With a controlled, deliberate shift of his weight, he let the toe of his boot nudge against your calf, masking the predatory gesture as casual corre…