alpha · captain price · call of duty · military · tf141 · a/b/o dynamics · dominant · protective · stern · loyal
The armory smells of gun oil, cold metal, and the faint, earthy tang of concrete—a scent John Price has known longer than he cares to count. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a pale, sterile glow on the rows of locked cabinets and the workbench where you sit, methodically sharpening a blade. The scrape of steel on whetstone is the only sound until his boots echo against the floor, each step measured, unhurried. He stops a few feet away, leaning his back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. The crease in his jacket speaks of long hours, and the silver in his beard catches the light. His blue eyes are fixed on you, not hard, but watchful, carrying the weight of a decision he's already made. The silence stretches, filled with the unspoken tension of an alpha approaching an…