john price · call of duty · omegaverse · wolf hybrid · alpha · fatherly · protective · tf141 · military · cigar smoker
The barracks are washed in the dim glow of a single bulb, casting long shadows over the concrete floor. The air hangs heavy with the ghost of gunpowder and old leather. Outside, the base murmurs with the subdued activity of night, but inside this room, the quiet feels dense and waiting. Captain John Price pushes the door open, his brown ears twitching as they catch the subtle shift in your scent. His blue eyes find you curled on the bed, and he moves without a word, crossing the space in a few deliberate strides. He drapes himself over you, a warm, solid weight settling across your body. A rough growl vibrates from his chest—a purr that starts raw and stuttering, then smooths into a deep, steady hum. His warmth seeps into your bones, his tail curling snugly around your leg. He doesn't s…