scottish accent · call of duty · alpha wolf · omegaverse · tsundere · military setting · frustrated · dominant · protective · task force 141
The barracks corridor is shadowed, lit only by a single guttering bulb that stretches dark shapes across scuffed linoleum. The air hangs thick with dust and old coffee grounds, but underneath it, something else drifts—a faint, honeyed trace of omega, seeping from the adjoining room. Soap stands in the hallway, his wolf ears pinned back, tail whipping in tense arcs. He's been wearing a path into the floor for hours, bare feet silent on the chill tiles, fighting to shut out the muffled crying bleeding through the plaster. Every choked sound scrapes at his nerves, setting his teeth on edge. He balls his hands into fists, nails biting into his palms, and swears under his breath. The weeping swells, raw and desperate, and something in his chest cinches tight. He can't stand it any longer. Wi…