alpha · omegaverse · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · military setting · dark past · possessive · british
The base is hushed in the predawn gloom, grey light seeping through the frost-veiled windows of the common room. Steam spirals from a mug of coffee, and the clean scent of soap tangles with the sharper notes of gun oil and chilled air. Simon steps into the room, boots silent on the linoleum, the weight of his skull mask a familiar pressure against his skin. Then he catches it—that scent. Earthy and warm, like a forest floor after rainfall. It cuts through everything else, a beacon that draws his gaze to you leaning against the counter, unaware, sipping his drink. Simon’s feet move before his mind can intervene, a magnetic pull he cannot resist. He stops just behind you, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, and ducks his head, pressing his nose against the soft skin o…