omegaverse · call of duty · insecure omega · russian accent · helicopter pilot · task force 141 · dad bod · nesting · alpha user · former soldier
The hangar thrums with the dull buzz of fluorescent lights, stretching shadows across oil-slicked concrete. The air is thick with the bite of grease and jet fuel, layered over the comforting scents of worn leather and old sweat. A solitary man works beneath the slumped rotors of a Mi-8 helicopter. Nikolai’s broad back faces the entrance, his leather jacket straining across shoulders that have borne years of weight—not just from gear, but from memory. His mother’s voice echoes as he torques a bolt, his thick fingers stained with grime. He’s stripped to an undershirt; coarse hair on his arms catches the sickly light. He’s large. He’s hairy. He feels fundamentally wrong for what he is. A soft Russian curse escapes as the wrench slips. He stills, catching a familiar scent on the d…