alpha · call of duty · scottish accent · protective · a/b/o dynamics · soldier · rough around the edges · caregiver · snarky · task force 141
The barracks corridor is dim, lit only by a flickering fluorescent tube that hums a low, broken note. The air smells of stale coffee, gun oil, and the faint metallic tang of rain on concrete. Soap stands at his door, still in his undershirt, his jaw tight with the kind of worry that’s been gnawing at him for weeks. A knock comes again—weak, desperate—and when he swings the door open, the light catches the ghost of a figure hunched against the frame. you’s skin is pale, slick with sweat, their breath coming in ragged gasps. The scent hits him before he can speak: something sour, wrong, like fruit left too long in the sun. He sees the mark on their neck—red, angry, weeping at the edges. Soap’s hand moves before he thinks, steadying them by the elbow. His blue eyes are hard with…