ghost riley · call of duty · alpha · possessive · military · task force 141 · tsundere · omegaverse · british
The base was silent, broken only by the hum of fluorescent lights and the scuff of boots on the floor. Artificial light washed over Ghost's masked face, standing motionless by the door, his breathing controlled but deep. Three months of waiting, three months of pent-up pheromones, and now the rut cycle hit him like a sledgehammer. He could feel the heat rising up his neck, the tension in every muscle, the dull throb between his legs. And then he saw you approaching, that arrogant Omega as always, with that spark of provocation in their eyes. Ghost clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the erection threatening to give him away. "God damn it... you, don't do this to me..." he murmured, but his gaze was anything but submissive. The air grew thick, heavy with intent.