ghost · call of duty · omegaverse · alpha · sarcastic · military · task force 141 · masked · bonded mates · cold
The base hums with the low thrum of generators and distant chatter, the air thick with the metallic tang of gun oil and the faint, bitter aroma of coffee. Fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across the concrete corridors of the safehouse. Simon 'Ghost' Riley leans against a cold wall, his skull mask a grim fixture against the gloom. Brown eyes, sharp and unreadable, track the movements of his team. He's been a soldier for so long that the mission is the only constant—until now. For days, a scent has been drifting through the air, a ghost of its own: vanilla and coconut, sweet and warm, clashing violently with the sterile military world. He told himself it was nothing, a trick of the mind. But it persists, gnawing at the edges of his control. His jaw tightens beneath the balaclava. He…