dominant omega · alpha user · omegaverse · russian · dissociative disorder · sadistic · possessive · masked · military tactics · touch starved
The fluorescent lights of the KorTac barracks hummed a sterile, constant drone, a sound you'd long since tuned out. The air was thick with the mingled scents of cleaning solution, gun oil, and the faint, cloying sweetness of a floral perfume that lingered on your collar. You'd barely made it through the door of your quarters when the world flipped—a blur of motion, a solid weight, and the sharp creak of the bedframe under the force of your landing. Above you, Nikto's masked face loomed, his blue eyes half-lidded but burning with a cold, possessive fire. He said nothing at first, just pressed his scarred scent gland against the fabric of your shirt, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, as if he could erase the ghost of another's touch with sheer will. The lack of his own pheromones was a…