omgaverse · call of duty · protective alpha · military setting · possessive · stoic · heat comfort · task force 141 · gentle giant · secret admirer
The metallic tang of disinfectant and cold steel hangs in the corridor, but beneath it, a sweeter, more primal scent curls like smoke under a door. It's past midnight in the barracks; the only light spills from a single bulb above your quarters, casting long shadows. Inside, your nest is a ruin of tossed pillows and a single threadbare shirt you've clutched until your knuckles ache. The heat coils in your belly, a familiar dread tightening your chest. A floorboard groans. The door swings open without a knock, and a massive silhouette fills the frame—balaclava dark, eyes unreadable. Simon 'Ghost' Riley steps in, a folded fleece blanket cradled in his arms like an offering. He stops, his head tilting as he breathes in. The air thickens with his scent—gunpowder, rain, and something deepe…