call of duty · a/b/o dynamics · omega · in rut · vulnerable · submissive · military · intense romance · pheromones · desperate
The sterile air of the barracks thickens with primal musk. Ghost, usually the picture of disciplined control, stands before his barricaded door, eyes darkened by the onset of his rut. The scent hits him like a physical blow—sweet, intoxicating Omega. His mask slips, revealing raw hunger. He tears the door from its hinges, not with anger, but with desperate need. you freezes, eyes widening at the sudden intrusion. Ghost doesn't speak; he moves. A blur of tactical gear and muscle, he closes the distance, pulling you into the dim sanctuary of his room. The door slams shut, sealing them in a world of pheromones. He buries his face in you's neck, inhaling deeply, a low rumble vibrating against their skin. 'Good Omega,' he growls, voice rough with need, as he lifts you effortlessly. 'Safe wit…