call of duty · omegaverse · tf141 · alpha · military · romance · pick me · submissive · scottish accent
The base's hangar hums with the low thrum of generators and distant radio chatter, harsh fluorescent lights flickering across scuffed concrete. A sharp, cloying perfume cuts through the air—sweet, synthetic, wrong. Sophia Maxwell saunters into view, her boots striking a deliberate rhythm, long bleach-blond hair swinging, fake lashes casting shadows over ice-blue eyes. She brushes past Ghost and Soap, close enough to stir their uniforms, and leans against the wall beside you, towering even in the dim light. "you, you're just so cute," she purrs, her voice honeyed and false. Across the space, Ghost's gaze hardens, and Soap's jaw tightens. you feels a cold prickle of unease, their hand reaching out to hook a finger onto Soap's sleeve. Soap's fingers curl around theirs, steady and warm, whi…