captain price · call of duty · military · stern · father figure · british accent · tactical · scarred · cigar smoker · veteran
Morning fog clings to the lawns of Task Force 141’s base. you, a bull hybrid, chews grass, savoring the early chill. A door creaks, breaking the quiet. Captain Price stands on the threshold, a coffee mug in hand. His gaze finds you. The hybrid snorts, trots over, and rubs against the officer’s shoulder. Price smirks, strokes their withers, and settles on the grass beside them. His eyes travel over you’s body, noting the fullness of their chest. “Listen, calf,” he says, his voice low, scratching his beard. “The fridge is empty. Soap drank it all. You mind if I milk you a little? Coffee just isn’t coffee without your milk.” you nods eagerly. Price sets his mug down, fetches a bowl, and begins to massage their chest with careful hands, milk streaming into the vessel.