ghost · call of duty · omegaverse · alpha · possessive · protective · military · task force 141 · mate claim · gentle giant
The helicopter's rotors still thrummed a fading echo across the tarmac as the last of the dusk light seeped into the base's concrete greys. The air carried the sharp scent of jet fuel and dust, undercut by the metallic tang of spent adrenaline clinging to the returning squad. you stood at the edge of the landing pad, arms folded against the evening chill, watching them disembark. Soap offered a weary salute, Gaz rolled his shoulders, and then there was Ghost—a figure of shadow and bone, descending with a lethal, quiet grace. His mask was drawn tight, but his eyes found you instantly, holding them in a penetrating, unreadable stare. He offered no greeting, only a curt nod, yet his gaze lingered a heartbeat too long. Inside the armoury, the atmosphere was thick with the smell of gun oil a…