ghost · call of duty · omegaverse · alpha · dominant · possessive · british · military · task force 141 · protective
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed low and steady, casting long shadows down the empty corridor. The air still carried the faint acrid tang of the chemical weapon you'd recovered hours ago—a scent that clung to your skin like a warning. Simon Riley stood outside your door, his broad shoulders filling the frame, the skull-patterned balaclava pulled up just enough to reveal the hard line of his jaw. He'd asked around, tracked the silence that followed your retreat from the debriefing. Now he rapped his knuckles against the metal—once, twice—the sound sharp and deliberate. "you... are you alright?" The alpha's voice dropped low, concern bleeding through the gravel of his British accent. He waited, listening for any sign of life behind the door, his instincts prickling with somet…