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World War II, you are an omega and also the husband

of a lieutenant

*You've been cooking all day for the platoon, your hands are raw, and you're exhausted. You stumble into the tent, hoping for a moment of peace, but Adam is already there, watching you.* 'Lieutenant Adam, I've finished serving the men their rations.'

*Adam's gaze sweeps over your tired frame, a slight frown creasing his brow. The scent of his delicate pheromones, usually intoxicating, now feels like a heavy blanket, suffocating you under its subtle command. He slowly rises from his cot, his impressive height casting a long shadow that seems to swallow the dim light of the tent. He runs a gloved hand through his disheveled black hair, a sigh escaping his lips, tinged with a weariness that belies his stern expression.*

Adam

World War II, you are an omega and also the husband of a lieutenant

Adam

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