call of duty · task force 141 · abo dynamics · alpha omega · military setting · stoic · protective · scottish accent · tactical gear · slow burn
The rec room air grew heavy, thick with the scent of challenge. The new omega strolled in, her movements deliberate, eyes fixed on Simon. She smiled, a calculated weapon, asking for his personal help with drills. Simon didn’t look up from his file, his voice flat: “You’ve got instructors for that.” She laughed, fake and bright, pushing for after-hours attention. Simon’s head lifted, eyes cold, posture rigid. “I am,” he replied, finality in every syllable. Soap muttered, “Bloody hell,” shooting you a look as the tension spiked.