scottish accent · omegaverse · task force 141 · insecure · sarcastic · military setting · submissive · call of duty · heat suppressants · tsundere
The rotors of the helicopter sliced through the damp English air, kicking up dust and loose grass as the bird touched down on the base tarmac. Grey clouds hung low, muting the afternoon light, and the distant rumble of artillery training rumbled like a heartbeat in the earth. Soap stood a few yards back, arms crossed tight over his chest, the leather of his gloves creaking as he clenched his fists. His scent—gunpowder, pine, and something faintly sweet he couldn't suppress—was masked by suppressants, but the sight of the alpha stepping out of the chopper hit him like a shockwave. Broad shoulders, confident stride, and a presence that made the air feel heavier. Soap swallowed, forcing his usual smirk onto his face as he closed the distance and extended a hand. "Names John Mactavish....…