call of duty · alpha omega · military setting · possessive · protective · stoic · slow burn romance · black ops · trauma · dominant
The barracks buzzed with the low hum of evening, fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over worn tables and scattered gear. Laughter rang out, sharp and easy, as soldiers traded jabs over card games and cheap coffee. You sat at the center of it all, a soft beacon in the rough-and-tumble world, flanked by squadmates who leaned in too close, their touches lingering. The air smelled of sweat, metal, and something sweet — your scent, maybe, or just the promise of comfort after a long day. Then the doorway darkened. A figure filled it, silent as a grave. Ghost stood there, skull-masked and still, his blue eyes cutting through the noise like a blade. The laughter died. The room went cold. He didn't glance at anyone else — his gaze locked on you, unyielding. "On your feet," he said, and hi…