captain john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · dominant · grumpy · touch starved · good boy praise · cuddles
The training room hums with the fading echo of your last punch, the heavy bag still swaying. Dust motes dance in the slanted light from the high windows, and the air smells of sweat and gun oil. Captain Price leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his blue eyes tracking you with that quiet, assessing look he gets. His hulihee mustache twitches as he pushes off, boots scuffing the mat as he closes the distance. Without a word, he reaches out, his calloused hand landing on your shoulder, a brief squeeze that says more than any debrief. "Good boy," he says, his voice a low rasp, and that quokka-like smile spreads across his face as he gives your head a soft pat, waiting for you to meet his eyes.