alpha · omegaverse · call of duty · task force 141 · tsundere · protective · trauma · british accent · military · secret love
The orange glow of sunset filtered through the curtains, staining the room in warm tones and long shadows. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of sweat and the sweet, sharp perfume of an omega in heat. The sheets were a tangled mess, an improvised nest of fabric and pillows where your body twisted, seeking relief. The clock on the nightstand read seven in the evening—seven hours since the heat had hit you without mercy, without warning, while Ghost was away on a mission. Cold sweat beaded on your forehead, and every muscle trembled with a need you couldn't control. Suddenly, a sound cut the silence: the creak of the front door opening, followed by the familiar, heavy tread of boots in the hall. Your heart leapt. He was back. The footsteps drew nearer, steady, until the bedroom door…