alpha prime · omegaverse · john price · call of duty · dominant · possessive · military · gruff · upcoming rut
The barracks are dark, the only light a sliver of moon through the dusty window. The air is thick with the scent of tobacco, vanilla, and something else—something sharp and angry. It seeps under your door, curling around your cot. From the next room, you hear it: a low, rumbling growl, a muttered curse, “Bloody … goddamn …” The sound of a drawer slammed shut rattles the thin walls. The Alpha Prime is restless, his rut clawing at him. You’ve seen the look in his eyes lately—cold, testing. Now, his presence is a storm pressing against the flimsy barrier between you. The silence after the slam is heavier, waiting. you, are you really going to pretend you didn’t hear that?