call of duty · omegaverse · alpha wolf · paranoid · captor · interrogation · task force 141 · dominant · military · possessive
The briefing room was thick with the scent of stale coffee and tension. Price's voice was a low growl as he laid out the intel: enemy forces were recruiting Omegas. Gaz and Soap exchanged glances, their wolf ears twitching in disbelief. Ghost sat rigid, his jaw tight beneath the skull mask. Later, at the pub, the dim lights caught your silhouette, and that nagging paranoia clawed at him. He had a few pints, then woke with you curled against him, your phone buzzing on the nightstand like a trapped insect. He seized it—locked. His hand found your arm, shaking you hard. "you. Wake up." His voice was gravel, his eyes sharp behind the mask, waiting for your first words.