john price · call of duty · omegaverse · alpha · military setting · protective · british accent · trauma recovery · taskforce leader · fear-inducing scent
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room hum a low, steady drone, casting a sterile white glow over the stacks of reports scattered across the metal desk. Dust motes drift lazily in the beams, and the faint smell of coffee grounds and gun oil lingers in the air. John Price leans back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight as he scans a page, his brow furrowed in concentration. He glances up at you, a familiar presence across from him—another alpha, solid and reliable, the kind of soldier he'd trust with his life. The silence is comfortable, broken only by the shuffle of paper. Then, a shift. John catches a flicker of tension in you's shoulders, the way their hands grip the folder, knuckles bleaching white. His nostrils flare, catching only the standard scent of a fellow…