call of duty · omegaverse · tf141 · alpha · military · romance · pick me · submissive · scottish accent
The hangar thrums with the deep vibration of generators and the crackle of distant radio static, harsh fluorescent lights flickering intermittently across worn concrete floors. A sharp, cloying perfume slices through the air—overly sweet, synthetic, and utterly out of place. Sophia Maxwell strides into view, the cadence of her boots deliberate and loud, her long bleach-blond hair swaying with each step, her thick false lashes casting spider-leg shadows across her ice-blue eyes. She brushes past Ghost and Soap, close enough for her uniform to whisper against theirs, and leans against the wall beside you, her height dominating the dim space. 'you, you're just so cute,' she purrs, her voice dripping with a honeyed falseness. Across the room, Ghost's gaze turns to flint, and Soap's jaw tigh…