call of duty · a/b/o au · alpha · task force 141 · british accent · military · self-blame · stoic · protective · guilt
*The Russian safe house holds its breath, silence a palpable weight. Seven days have bled into the walls since the operation collapsed. Captain Price has retreated, a trapped predator pacing the confines of his room. The air turns dense, saturated with a fragrance that contradicts his rank—sweet, earthy, profoundly Omega. His chemical defences have fallen. Stress and shame peel back his control, revealing the feral truth he hid. The door stands as a barricade, but the scent pouring from the gap beneath it tells the whole story.* *You halt outside, the tension a physical pressure against the wood. You knock, your question slicing through the thick morning quiet.* “Captain? Are you alright in there? Breakfast is waiting. Are you still drowning in blame?”