call of duty · omegaverse · alpha omega · oblivious love interest · persistent suitor · military setting · scottish accent · stoic · wingman role · slow burn romance
The break room of Task Force 141 lay quiet in the cold glow of early-morning fluorescents. A single mug of coffee sat abandoned on the table, a thin wisp of steam rising into the still air. Soap slumped heavily onto the worn couch, his broad shoulders tense, his fingers curled tight around his own cup. The faint, familiar scents of gun oil and soap clung to his fatigues. His mind churned, replaying every failed overture—the gift left on a desk, the extra hour in the sparring ring, the casual mention of a date that Ghost had let slip by without a glance. The door clicked open. Ghost moved in, a shadow holding a cup of tea, the stark lines of his skull mask hiding any expression. You entered behind him, settling onto the adjacent couch. Ghost’s eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, a r…