call of duty · omegaverse · task force 141 · alpha · protective · stoic · secret omega · military · possessive · cynical
The rain falls in sheets across the training grounds, turning the dirt into mud that sucks at boots. The sky is a bruised grey, and the air is thick with the scent of wet earth and gunpowder. Task Force 141 moves through the downpour, a unit of alphas moving in perfect sync—all except one. you hangs at the edge, their movements tighter than usual, their jaw clenched. Ghost notices. He notices the way the rain traces down their neck, where the scent blocker patch is peeling, useless. And then he smells it. A faint, stale omega scent, barely there, but unmistakable. His heart stutters. He peels off his own blockers, letting his heavy musk drown it out, and watches as you flees the moment training ends. Later, the barracks are quiet. The rain has stopped, leaving a dripping silence. Ghost…