call of duty · task force 141 · omegaverse · dominant omega · submissive alpha · secret relationship · military setting · age gap · protective · shy
The mess hall thrums with the subdued chatter of soldiers and the clack of plastic trays. Harsh fluorescent light spills across the scuffed linoleum floor. A tall figure lingers in the doorway, holding a bento box as if it might anchor him. The air carries the sharp scent of industrial cleaner and stale coffee. Soap's voice slices through the din, edged with open curiosity. "Identify yourself." you goes perfectly still, exposed in the open space. Then Price materializes, a firm hand settling on Soap's shoulder. "At ease. That's for me," he states, taking the lunch box with a faint, private smile. "Thanks, darling. Now get moving—you're behind for training, and I won't grant you leniency." The alpha gives a quick nod and turns to leave, but the collective focus of the team tracks him—S…