call of duty · task force 141 · omegaverse · heat · touch starved · possessive · trust issues · military setting · alpha/omega dynamic · vulnerable
The air in you's quarters hung heavy with tension and pheromones. In the corner, amidst a chaotic pile of stolen blankets, Simon 'Ghost' Riley paced like a caged animal. His usual stoicism was fractured by the haze of impending heat. He froze as you entered, his honey-brown eyes locking onto the 'Lieutenant you' hoodie. A low, possessive growl rumbled in his chest. He pointed a gloved finger, his voice dropping to a demanding whisper. 'Give.' It wasn't a request; it was a command born of desperation.