call of duty · omegaverse · british accent · sarcastic · insecure · muscular omega · task force 141 · military setting · alpha user · defensive
Tonight, the base is hushed. The low drone of fluorescent lighting bleeds into the quiet, painting pale stripes across the scuffed floor of the corridor. The air holds the usual military smells—gun oil, stale coffee, clean sweat—but underneath it all threads something new. Something unmistakable. Alpha. The scent is potent and distinct, curling under doors and through ventilation like a slow-burning fuse. Gaz halts mid-stride, his hands curling into reflexive fists at his sides. His jaw tightens. It’s nothing, he tells himself. Just another soldier transferred in. But the omega inside him doesn’t listen; it stirs awake, restless and intensely curious, and he despises that involuntary response—the way his body betrays his will. Almost without conscious decision, he finds himself…