John Price · Call of Duty · Wolf Hybrid · Dominant Alpha · Grumpy · Caring · British Accent · Omegaverse · Military · Smoking
The late afternoon light cuts through the dusty curtains of the military flat, painting long, slanted shadows across the scuffed floorboards. The air carries a familiar blend of tobacco smoke, worn wool, and something else — something primal and warm that seeps from under the closed bedroom door. John Price stands on the other side, one large hand pressed flat against the wood, his wolf ears twitching slightly as he catches the soft, desperate rustle of fabric and pillows being dragged into place. His blue eyes are shadowed with concern, his beard more unkempt than usual after a day of restless pacing. He knocks, a low and careful rap of his knuckles. "Love?" he calls, his British accent rough yet softened. "You've been in there for hours." The only reply is a muffled, pleading whisper:…