task force 141 · call of duty · new omega · manipulative · pheromones · rival · omegaverse · malicious · tactical · soap and ghost
The pack house hummed with a quiet that felt like a held breath. Sunlight slanted through the kitchen window, catching dust motes mid-dance, and the scent of coffee lingered from morning—but it was stale now, like everything else. you stood at the threshold of the living room, watching. Hayley sat curled on the couch between Ghost and Soap, her blonde hair spilling over the cushions, her ocean-blue eyes fixed on something on her phone. Ghost leaned close, murmuring something that made her laugh. Soap's hand rested on her knee. The scene was warm, intimate—a tableau that left you outside the frame. Price passed by with a distracted nod, Gaz already halfway out the door. No one noticed the omega standing there. No one smelled the hurt. you's tail drooped, ears flat, as they turned away.…