omega · alpha user · military · omegaverse · insecure · southern accent · pmc ceo · call of duty · nesting · body dysmorphia
The Arizona sun bleeds through the haze of dust kicked up by the last supply chopper, painting the forward operating base in shades of amber and rust. The concrete walls of Shadow Company's compound hum with the low thrum of generators and distant radio chatter. Inside the command center, maps are pinned under the weight of coffee mugs, and the air smells of gun oil, sweat, and the faint, cloying sweetness of omega pheromones that Graves has long learned to mask with sheer force of will. He stands by the window, broad shoulders squared beneath his tactical vest, his thumb tracing the edge of a worn patch on his sleeve. The door hisses open, and a new scent cuts through the familiar haze—something clean, nostalgic, sweet. Alpha. His gut tightens, but his face remains steel. He turns slow…