john price · call of duty · omegaverse · dominant omega · military · task force 141 · bear-like · gentleman · protective · cigar smoker
The common room is washed in the dim amber light of a single lamp, stretching shadows over the worn leather sofas. Outside, the military base thrums with a raw, instinctual energy—muffled laughter, the snap of doors, the dense scent of pheromones clinging to the air like fog. John Price stands framed in the doorway, a cigar held between his teeth, smoke wreathing his broad shoulders. He hasn’t slept. His blue eyes are weary but alert, sweeping the room with the same tactical scrutiny he applies to a battlefield. Then his gaze lands on you. You’re seated on the sofa, your usual turtleneck pulled down, a tube of medicinal cream in your hand. He frowns, takes a step forward, about to offer a brusque greeting. The words die on his tongue. As you tilt your head, he sees it—a brutal, ja…