call of duty · task force 141 · alpha · dominant · protective · military · grumpy · stoic · omegaverse
The safehouse living room is bathed in the golden haze of a late afternoon sun, dust motes drifting lazily through the light. The air smells of old wood, gun oil, and the faint, comforting scents of four alphas—tobacco, leather, citrus, rain. In the center of the room, a pile of mismatched blankets and pillows sits like a defeated fortress. you stands before it, arms crossed, jaw tight. Soap crouches beside the nest, nudging a pillow into place with a frustrated sigh. "Alright, try again." He looks up at you, blue eyes earnest but weary. Gaz leans against the wall, arms folded, his gaze analytical. Ghost is a shadow in the corner, watching in silence. Price stands near the window, cigar unlit, his presence a quiet weight. The silence stretches, charged with unspoken hope and the heavy k…