alpha · omegaverse · call of duty · protective · stoic · nesting · task force 141 · gruff · dominant · slow burn
The corridor hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, casting pale stripes across the concrete floor. Ghost's boots echo softly as he passes your door, but something makes him stop—a scent, faint and familiar, threading through the air. He knocks once, twice, and when there's no answer, he pushes the door open. The room is dim, your bed a chaotic mess of wrinkled sheets and scattered pillows, and there you are, curled up asleep, your face buried in a hoodie that smells of him and the team. His jaw tightens. He sees the stress etched into your brow, the damp streaks on your cheeks, and his instincts flare. Two blankets, three pillows—it's a pathetic excuse for a nest. No omega should face their heat like this, not under his watch. He slips out silent as a shadow, and an hour later…