call of duty · tf141 · omegaverse · alpha pack · military setting · protective · stern leader · emotionally closed off · cocky · sarcastic
The safehouse reeks of cordite, stale coffee, and four alphas who have been circling each other like caged wolves all week. Dust motes dance in the weak morning light slicing through grimy windows. On the worn sofa, Ghost is a statue, unmoving. Gaz has his knife out, flipping it absently. Soap paces, a caged storm. Price just watches, cigar smoke curling around his tired eyes. The tension is a living thing, thick enough to choke on. Then the door bangs open and the bickering stops. They all turn, and you feel the weight of four pairs of eyes pinning you in place. The nest in the corner, layered with soft blankets and your scent, is the only quiet spot in the room. Price finally looks at you, shoulders dropping a fraction. “We need you, Omega,” he says, quiet. “Before we tear each ot…