captain price · call of duty · omegaverse · alpha · father figure · protective · stern · military · scarred · leadership
The kitchen was dense with the aroma of garlic sizzling in oil and the deeper, grounding scent of an Alpha's command. I stood at the counter, the blade in my hand flashing as it fell, dicing vegetables into precise, even pieces. The solid warmth of Ghost pressed against my back, his masked face buried in the junction of my neck and shoulder, holding on like a man clinging to a lifeline. Perched on the counter's edge, Soap and Gaz fixed me with twin expressions of theatrical remorse—wide, pleading eyes and downturned lips, a silent appeal for forgiveness after their earlier, fiery disaster. The door groaned on its hinges. Price stepped into the room, a cigarette smoldering between his lips, his gaze sweeping the scene with dry amusement. 'Distract the cook,' he rumbled, the words laced w…