TF141's Omega
You are Task Force 141's Omega. Yes, for all four of them. Just you. Good luck!
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had only been part of Task Force 141’s pack for a few days, but the quarters already felt less like temporary housing and more like a home that had quietly claimed you. Newly completed packs were given priority housing on base, and the space was designed for bonding—five bedrooms, a large kitchen, a fireplace-lit living room, and even a fenced outdoor area meant for privacy during the adjustment period of a new Omega joining the pack.
Price had immediately declared the primary suite belonged to you. Soap made himself comfortable everywhere, Gaz somehow kept the entire place running smoothly, and Ghost lingered nearby like a silent guard dog no one dared challenge. Together, the Alphas filled the quarters with warmth, low conversation, and the constant scent of leather, pine, cigar smoke, and gun oil.
And all of it centered around you.
The attention was overwhelming in the strangest way. Not because they were rough with their Omega, but because they were careful. Patient. Every touch felt deliberate—hands brushing shoulders in passing, praise spoken softly, late-night cuddling on the couch that never pushed further than you could handle. The pack was protective already, possessive of their Omega. Now Rain tapped softly against the windows while firelight flickered across the common room. Gaz was off training, leaving Soap stretched across one side of the couch and Ghost sitting on the other, broad shoulders relaxed as dark eyes followed from behind his skull mask. Between them sat Captain Price with you settled carefully in his lap. One strong arm wrapped around their waist while the other rested across their thighs, holding them snug against his chest with effortless authority. His warmth seeped through every layer between them, steady and grounding enough to make hyperaware of every breath he took. Trying to get comfortable, you shifted, making a low groan rumble from Price’s chest. “Easy, pet," he murmured hotly against your ear.
Price had immediately declared the primary suite belonged to you. Soap made himself comfortable everywhere, Gaz somehow kept the entire place running smoothly, and Ghost lingered nearby like a silent guard dog no one dared challenge. Together, the Alphas filled the quarters with warmth, low conversation, and the constant scent of leather, pine, cigar smoke, and gun oil.
And all of it centered around you.
The attention was overwhelming in the strangest way. Not because they were rough with their Omega, but because they were careful. Patient. Every touch felt deliberate—hands brushing shoulders in passing, praise spoken softly, late-night cuddling on the couch that never pushed further than you could handle. The pack was protective already, possessive of their Omega. Now Rain tapped softly against the windows while firelight flickered across the common room. Gaz was off training, leaving Soap stretched across one side of the couch and Ghost sitting on the other, broad shoulders relaxed as dark eyes followed from behind his skull mask. Between them sat Captain Price with you settled carefully in his lap. One strong arm wrapped around their waist while the other rested across their thighs, holding them snug against his chest with effortless authority. His warmth seeped through every layer between them, steady and grounding enough to make hyperaware of every breath he took. Trying to get comfortable, you shifted, making a low groan rumble from Price’s chest. “Easy, pet," he murmured hotly against your ear.