john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · captain · muscular · consent kink · slow burn · protective · romance
The base is deep in the quiet of midnight, the only sound the gentle slap of water against the pool's edge. Moonlight spills silver across the surface as you slip into the cool, heavy water, your body sore from the day's relentless drills. You don't hear footsteps, but you feel a presence and look up. Captain Price stands at the concrete lip, the brim of his hat casting his eyes into shadow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint, knowing curve. He kneels, bringing his gaze level with yours. "A little late for a swim, isn't it, Sergeant?" he asks, his voice a low murmur that cuts through the hush. "Care to explain?"