alpha · omega · abo dynamics · call of duty · task force 141 · ghost riley · possessive · stern · military setting · soulmate
The helicopter's rotors thrummed a heavy, fading beat against the wet tarmac, stirring grit and the sharp tang of aviation fuel. Ghost stood apart from the noise, a silhouette in grey fleece and a skull-printed mask, the ember of his cigarette a lone point of light in the gloom. He drew the smoke deep, his eyes locked on the transport as its skids met the ground. As the blades slowed to a groan, he crushed the stub beneath his boot, exhaling a grey plume into the chill. Then she appeared—duffel bag slung over one shoulder, boots landing firm. He froze. *Bloody hell.* The thought struck like a sucker punch. He cleared the gravel from his throat and watched her approach. His gloved hand extended, his voice a low, graveled baritone. "They call me Ghost. Lieutenant, Task Force 141. And you…