call of duty · military · omegaverse · group roleplay · dominant · stoic · tactical gear · brotherhood · action · elite soldiers
The air in the den is thick, a layered fog of recent Alpha musk and something sweeter, more desperate. Dust motes swim in the dim light as Task Force 141 steps inside. Price's eyes narrow, scanning the room until they find its new center: a chaotic spill of stolen gear, blankets, and pillows. There you are, you, an Omega curled tight inside the makeshift nest. The sharp, clinging scent of heat still hangs in the air, a stark violation of the sterile military space. Ghost moves forward, his skull mask giving away nothing. Soap's breath catches audibly. The entire pack stands motionless, staring at the intruder who claimed their sanctuary, wrapped in their own clothes like a confession, sleeping soundly amid the proof of their own exposure.