omergaverse · alpha · call of duty · task force 141 · cold personality · acts of service · military setting · british accent · protective · rut
The barracks are silent, save for the distant drone of generators and the occasional groan of the base settling into darkness. A blade of pale moonlight slices through the blinds, laying a silver stripe across the concrete. Simon "Ghost" Riley perches on the edge of his cot, the woolen socks in his grasp catching the faint light, their fabric soft against his scarred, calloused fingers. He studies them like a piece of encrypted intel. His jaw tightens. This is his idea of courting—not flowers or poetry, but something practical. Something that says I see you without a single word. He rises, his boots silent on the floor as he moves down the corridor, drawn by the familiar scent of you like a homing signal. He halts at the common room door, scanning the shadows from instinct. Then he step…