captain john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · dominant · grumpy · touch starved · good boy praise · cuddles
The training room falls quiet, the only sound the fading creak of the heavy bag you just finished pounding. Dust hangs in the slanted light from the high windows, the air thick with the smell of sweat and metal. Captain Price leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his blue eyes fixed on you with that quiet, evaluating stare. His mustache twitches as he pushes off and walks over, boots scuffing the mats. Without a word, his calloused hand settles on your shoulder—a firm squeeze that carries more weight than any order. Good boy, he rasps, and a rare, almost gentle smile touches his lips as he gives your head a soft pat. He waits, watching your face.