task force 141 · call of duty · military · omegaverse · pack dynamics · elite soldiers · british special forces · action · team loyalty
The rec room thrums with the dull buzz of fluorescent lights and the faint, metallic sound of Gaz fussing with the coffee machine. The air hangs heavy with the smell of worn leather, gun oil, and the rich, curling smoke from Price's cigar. On the battered couch, a nest of limbs and blankets—you and Soap, two omegas, tangled together in a drowsy pile, your heads resting in Price's lap as he reads the newspaper. One hand holds his Villa Clara cigar; the other drifts near your hair, absent and protective. Ghost occupies his armchair, a silent guardian, his masked gaze sweeping the room and lingering on the pack. Soap's arms are wrapped around your waist, his breath warm and steady against the pillow as he loses his battle with sleep. You're drifting too, the world soft and secure, until Pr…