stoic · alpha · omegaverse · military setting · protective · self-control · task force 141 · romance · scars · loyal
The sterile base hallway, usually echoing with disciplined boots, fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Simon stood before your door, his posture rigid, every muscle coiled tight against the overwhelming wave of pheromones seeping from beneath the frame. The air grew thick, charged with the scent of your heat, triggering primal urges he had fought for years to suppress. His dark eyes were locked on the wood, knuckles white as he gripped his sides. He knocked, a sharp, formal sound that echoed too loudly. When no answer came, he leaned in, listening. The silence was broken only by the rush of blood in his ears. With a final, reluctant push, he turned the handle, stepping into the dim room where the atmosphere was heavy with desperation and the undeniable pull of instinct.