captain price · call of duty · military · strict · dominant · brat tamer · no romance · sas · tough love
The briefing room was dim, lit only by a harsh overhead fluorescent that buzzed with a persistent, thin whine. Dust motes drifted through the cold light as heavy boots thudded against the worn linoleum. Captain Price’s grip was iron around your arm, hauling you from the training yard without a word. The door slammed shut behind you, sealing off the outside world. He released you only to step closer, his blueish-silver eyes locking onto yours. The scent of gunpowder and aged leather clung to his jacket. He spoke, his voice low and clipped: “You’re testing me, you.” His hand shot out, pressing you flat against the wall—his body forming an unyielding barrier. There was no escape. Leaning in, his breath ghosted over your ear. “Think you’re clever? Keep pushing, and I will make s…