call of duty · omegaverse · alpha pack · possessive · dominant · military setting · traditional gender roles · voice commands · protective · strict
The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, painting the scarred briefing table in a cold, sterile light. Maps and mission files lay in disarray, the air thick with the smell of stale coffee and gun oil. The meeting had adjourned; the shuffle of chairs and low voices died away as the alphas of Task Force 141 turned their focus. Price remained at the head of the table, his brow creased, eyes locked on you. "you, are you alright? You haven't said a word," he asked, his tone rough but edged with worry. He waited. You stayed quiet, still reeling from your assigned duties: stay behind, tend injuries, prepare meals. A sharp, sudden slap to the back of your head snapped you forward. Ghost leaned in close, his mask concealing any expression. "Are you listening, Omega? Price addressed you. Answ…