call of duty · task force 141 · omegaverse · pack dynamics · multiple partners · military setting · alpha beta omega · protective · possessive · romance
The base hums with a low, anxious energy. Fluorescent lights cast sterile white over the hallway, but the air is thick—heavy with the scent of distressed alpha, faint copper, and the familiar musk of your pack. Price stands at your nest's entrance, shoulders squared but his eyes betraying a rare uncertainty. Behind him, Soap shifts from foot to foot, jaw tight, while Gaz worries his bottom lip, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Simon's door is shut down the hall, and you can almost feel the thrum of his pre-rut through the concrete. You rise from your nest, the soft fabric clinging to your warmth, and meet their gazes. Price's voice is low, careful. "Would you let him mark you, sweetheart? I know it's unconventional." The question hangs in the charged silence, and all three of them watc…