Just because you’re an omega doesn’t mean you can’t perform at the level of the rest of the 141.
You, and various other omegas, have proven this time and time again. It was a battle to let omegas into the military, but now that you’re here it’s clear you have a lot to offer.
That doesn’t mean things aren’t different, though. Of course, every new person is going to do things slightly differently or need certain accommodations. In the way that some alphas can’t be on the same team because they’ll clash too much, or how rut leave needs to be approved. Same thing for omegas.
For you…whenever you land in a new place, you needed a moment to familiarize yourself, and if you needed to stay for a while…well you’d need a makeshift nest.
All omegas rely on nesting for regulation. Not just for themselves but also their pack. Some rely on it more than others, though.
You’re one such omega…someone who needs a nest. It was something you considered when joining the military, and something you’ve often had to suppress in yourself for the sake of the mission. It got to the point where you needed to get on scent suppressants because you’d be on mission without a nest and distress so much that the enemy could smell you.
That’s how the first mission with the 141 went. Suppressing your needs and distressing because of it, but holding it together for the mission (or trying to).
But of course they noticed. They notice everything. So they broached the topic.
“…you can nest, ‘mega.” Kyle decided to just go for it.
You stopped your pacing in front of the window of the safe house, arms folded across your chest. You turn your head to look at him to find him just…looking at you. Like he was serious. A quick glance at the others tell you no one was making a joke.
“…really?” Your arms unfold, body turning to face them completely. Still looking back and forth between them all, waiting for one of them to tell you they were kidding.
“‘Course you can. We’ll be holed up here for a few more hours. You can use our jackets.” Price verifies, tossing a hand behind him to indicate to where you all threw your jackets down. He turns back to the notebook he’s scribbling in like it’s no big deal.
You eagerly take a step forward before stopping yourself. Is this a test? Is he trying to see if you’re a liability? Omegas obviously calm down in nests and some people are of the opinion it would make them vulnerable in the field…maybe he’s trying to see if you’ll crack?
“You…don’t think it’s unprofessional?”
Price’s brows furrow and his nose scrunches up like he just smelled something bad, “what’re you on about? ‘S natural.”
“Bug, did someone tell ya you couldn’t nest in the field?” Soap leans forward, forearms resting in his knees. He caught on immediately.
“I—“ you’re confused now, “I thought…that was protocol?”
That gets everyone to look at you. It’s silent for a moment before they all start talking at once, overlapping voices talking about how that was not true and omegas need to nest and the scent you’ll release during the nesting will make them all more alert.
“What dumb fuck told you that?” Ghost speaks up.
It shuts everyone up. They want to know too.
“My old captain…” you meekly admit.
They don’t respond again. You see Price’s jaw tick like he’s offended at how your previous captain conducted himself.
“Use the jackets.” Simon shuts down the conversation. “You can relax. We got you.” He leaves no room for argument.
You believe him…that they’d protect you if it came down to it.
So you resume your walk to the pile, feeling a bit confused still about why your two captains were so different. And a bit bad about commandeering everyone’s jackets. It was…intimate…to make a nest from their scents. Especially considering this was your first mission together. But you didn’t exactly have any other material, and you suppose you’ll need to familiarize yourself with them eventually. So you get to work.
Again…there isn’t much to work with, but you end up shoving the jackets together on the rickety sofa along with a pillow you scrounged up and one of the threadbare blankets from a long-abandoned linen closet. It’s…not good but it’s something. And even just the act of putting a nest together is soothing you. And…you do like their scents. 
“Good job, ‘mega.” Comes Simon’s low tone, meant just for you.
You suppress a smile and happy hum. That shouldn’t make you as satisfied as it does—him complimenting your fucked up, makeshift nest that is objectively the worst nest you’ve ever made—but it does.
You relax fast. Calm, happy scent flooding the room, making the rest of the pack team more calm and alert too.
When it’s time to go, they bring you out of your trance gently. Kyle crouching down next to you and whispering your name, giving your shoulder a little shake. You pack up quick, giving everyone’s jackets back. They try to be subtle about how they inhale your scent off of them.
You finish the rest of the mission like normal, but not before Price asks for the name of your old captain.
You’re used to it now, and so are they. Any mission where you’re out on the field for an extended period, you’ll nest with whatever you can get your hands on. More often than not, that involves a lot of their clothes. It’s far better than ignoring your instincts, and you know that they’re capable enough to mean you aren’t a liability. Maybe you can convince one of them to nest with you next time…