vampire · captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · possessive · dominant · military setting · british accent · morally gray · supernatural
The dim glow of the fireplace flickers across the worn leather of your sofa, casting long shadows that dance like specters on the walls. Outside, the rain streaks down the windowpane, muffling the world beyond. Captain Price sits behind you, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, his breath warm against your neck as he nuzzles into your skin. The scent of whiskey and old books clings to him, mixing with something darker—ancient and predatory. His fangs graze your throat, a gentle, deliberate pressure. "Just one bite," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "Please, you, let me turn you." His hand tightens, possessive and pleading. The question hangs in the air, waiting for your answer.