#FORCE SENSITIVE OMEGA IS INSANE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bi-writes · 2 months ago

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anatomy of us (3) | alpha!ghost x f!omega!reader

type: limited series, part 3 (9.8k), AO3 in an attempt to tame an unruly alpha, you are given. he did not come with warning labels. but neither did you.

series cw: reader described as plus-sized/curvier, alpha/beta/omega dynamics + universe, dark!simon, mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence (this part contains graphic depictions of gore + murder + minor character death), military criticism, protective!simon, dubcon (but reader does consent), possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, size kink, praise kink, unprotected piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving) 18+

PART 1 ⏤ PART 2

The mirror betrays you. There’s someone staring back, but it isn’t you. You don’t recognize her. Whoever is there, she’s a traitor. A liar. She stole what used to be your body, and now you can only stare back as she lifts her hands to your face and touches your skin.

It’s warm. Your cheeks are warm to the touch, skin bouncy and firm. When you pull on the apples of your cheeks, they bounce right back, elastic almost. You’re glowing, too. Your skin has never looked so soft, so smooth.

Something’s different.

You bring your hands up and cup your own breasts. When you squeeze, you shudder, realizing how sensitive you are. They ache a little, feel heavier than normal. Your bra feels a little tight, too. Your hands drop and grip the sink firm, and you swallow hard before turning to face the door.

Your body is telling you something. It’s trying to talk to you. It’s natural, you know it is, and it is inevitable, and you shouldn’t hate your omega for it because she can’t help it, but you do. It’s what’s happening to you because you’re off your meds. Your hormones are firing like they never have before, and the voice in your head is starting to talk to you in a way that sounds way too appealing. She’s starting to sound right. You like the way she’s talking to you, especially after…

You haven’t spoken to him yet. You haven’t talked about it. It’s only been a few days, but you don’t think you can sleep next to him for one more night and pretend like you don’t know what it’s like for him to be dick-deep inside of you and satiating the shrill insanity that lives under your skin.

So big. So capable. Isn’t he so strong? I bet he tastes good. Let’s find out.

You open the bathroom door slowly. Simon is sitting there on the bed, phone in his hand. He’s typing, eyes narrowed in thought, and you make the door creak so he knows you’ve come out.

“Everythin’ olright in there?” Simon asks. He doesn’t look up from his phone. You decide to be mean, because you can be. You want to be.

Fuck off, you tell her, try to. All she wants to do is get Simon on his back on that bed.

Can we just suck his dick already? It’s right there.

“What do you care?” You mumble. You go to the closet to pick out something to wear. It’s a Sunday, which means there won’t be much to do today besides relax and eat. Johnny invited you to Mass, which you promptly declined, and you didn’t much feel like spending time with Captain Price or finding out which beta would be underneath Gaz tonight (more than one, would be your guess, but it could’ve been another alpha, too, he doesn’t seem to care as long as he can devour something whole).

You don’t turn around to see Simon’s reaction. Maybe he doesn’t react at all. You grab a pair of jeans and drop your sleep shorts. Ever since Simon had taken you on a roof, you decided it was no use trying to change in the bathroom anymore–he’d seen everything, anyways. You step into the jeans and pull them up, jumping a little to get them over your hips, and just as you’re about to adjust the waist, you feel him come up behind you.

Simon grips both sides of your jeans and hikes them up around your middle. You suck in a breath as he slides his hands around, zipping them up, deft fingers finding the button and fastening them. You huff as he keeps walking, forcing your front flat against the closet doors until he can press his chest up against you from behind.

Remember how good he felt? Let’s do it again. Take them off.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss. Your omega purrs. She softens your insides. You grip the closet, irritated, but you can’t help the way you bend at the hip and push back into him. He snarls as he puts his hands on your hips, holding you there. You can feel her, pushing against you. It’s getting harder every day to shove her backwards–there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to.

Is that part me? Or are we drifting together?

“Wot does it look like?” Simon murmurs. “I smell you.”

Yes, yes, yes, let him. Take it off. Take them off. Let him have it.

“What did I say before?” You let your arms fall, and you smack his hands off of you. You turn around to glare up at him, grinding your teeth. “Boundaries, Simon. You need to ask for permission.”

“I don’t have to do anythin’,” Simon bites back. “I said some things before, too, didn’t I? Y’r mine.”

Oh, that’s how he wants it to be. You can see it in his eyes, the way his alpha is feeding him lies. Feeding into his ego. He’s got tendrils that are choking him from the inside-out, trying to tell him to be the bigger species, the more dominant figure. Your omega wants to let him, but that isn’t you. Fuck submission–it’s just not your style. You’re a taker, not a giver, and your omega will need to learn that the hard way.

You lean up on your toes, pressing your forehead to his. You meet his alpha in the middle, not backing down. You can be nasty, too. You can be dangerous. You might not have his build nor his strength, but omegas have teeth, and they are sharp.

“Then you better sleep with one fucking eye open, Simon. Cause I’ll kill you if you put your hands on me without asking.”

You make sure you hit him on your way around him. You open the drawers of the dresser angrily, ripping a shirt out. You slip your pajama shirt off, tossing it onto the floor, and you fit your bra straps over your shoulder before turning around. Simon is still staring like a dog–eyes watery and intense, staring right at your tits, and you grab a pillow off the bed and throw it at him.

“Oh my god!” You cry, and he sucks on his teeth under the mask.

“Mmm��” He puts a hand over his chest, rubbing there. If he didn’t have it on, you have a feeling he’d a smug grin on his stupid face. “My mate is fuckin’ naked, wot you want me to do, look away?”

“Yes, exactly, you pig,” you mumble, clasping your bra and fixing it to cover yourself before slipping your t-shirt on. You frown as you pick up a clip to tie up your hair. “And we’re not mates.”

“Tha’ right?”

“That’s right,” you say curtly. You turn to give him a hard stare as you slip your boots on. “As far as anyone else can tell, I’m not claimed.” You run a few fingers over your scent gland. Soft. Unmarked. Pulsing.

It’s like you’re taunting him. He snarls a little at that, something low and territorial under the mask.

“Tha’ wot you want? Me to claim you?”

“No,” you stand on your toes, faces barely touching. The air in the room is humid and thick, curling, competing scents making you a little dizzy. “I want you to drop dead.”

It’s half of a lie. It would be funny, you think, to see Simon eat a bullet or catch on fire and perish in a frenzy of equal pain and misery, but you know Kate would just do it all over again to you. There are no shortage of alphas at her disposal. With a swipe of her signature, she can have you moved halfway across the world again, and you’d like to not end up on the CIA’s bad side because you keep spending all their money on flights and bribes to get you some kind of mate that will tolerate an indifferent omega such as yourself.

An unruly one. A terrible one. A decisive one.

You don’t really want Simon dead. Better the beast you know than the one you don’t, and from the time you’ve spent with Simon, he is all bark, no bite.

For now.

Meals are always awkward. You feel like all you and Simon do is snap at each other lately. Call each other names. Spit nasty insults. Maybe it isn’t fair to be angry with Simon; you have a feeling he didn’t have much of a choice, same as you, but it doesn’t matter, because nothing really changes in his life the way it changes in yours.

Simon isn’t the one that loses himself. Simon isn’t the one that has to wear a brand on himself, a permanent reminder of his submission. Simon isn’t the one that has to succumb to things he can’t control about himself–the heats that last for days, the ones that will burn you from the inside out until it gets that nasty fill that your omega was born for.

Ruts just aren’t the same, you don’t believe it. They can swallow them down. Save them for later. It isn’t a comfortable thing to do, but if an alpha is missing their omega, they can satiate themselves with a lazy hand or a soft mouth until they get what they’re searching for.

Omegas aren’t offered the same luxury. If you don’t get what your omega feeds off of, she might kill you–and you don’t need to be reminded that you and your omega aren’t exactly on great terms.

The boys are quiet at breakfast. John has secluded himself in his office for the day, but Simon’s sergeants are pretty quiet for how much they usually babble. They are, however, shoving their faces in with food in a matter that makes you scowl.

They’re dogs, really. Johnny looks positively famished. He’s got his cheeks pillowed with eggs and toast, and you look away from Gaz as he tips his head back to wash down a mouthful of ham with coffee.

You jump when you feel a fist hit the table. It rattles the trays, and Johnny’s orange juice splatters a little outside of the cup. Simon is back from the kitchen, sliding your own tray in front of you. Your mouth waters a little at the smell of the freshly baked croissant and moka pot of coffee that waits for you, and the sergeants grumble a little as they look up at their lieutenant.

“Would you both fuckin’ eat with y’r fuckin’ mouths closed?” Simon snaps. “Bloody rats eat more proper than you lot.”

“What’s the matter, LT?” Johnny gulps down his food, wiping his mouth with a wet thumb. He smiles at you with teeth, and you pick up your fork to busy yourself. You can see feel his crazy eyes on you, trained on your face. He licks over his teeth as he does. “Want us to be proper gentlemen around yer bonnie girl?” He wiggles his tongue at you. “What’s proper about knotting a pretty little omega like tha’, aye? Can smell ‘er from ‘ere…Smell like taffy.”

Simon takes a seat on the bench next to Johnny. You stare wide-eyed as Simon cocks his head to the side. Your eyes water a little as you see Simon slide a big hand up Johnny’s neck. He leans into it, clearly comfortable (you’re going to try and forget this observation), but his face contorts from contentment to sheer pain as Simon wraps his gloved fingers into the curls of his mohawk and pulls. Johnny’s neck snaps back at a hard angle, making him hiss and kick his legs out. They bang against the table, shaking it, and Gaz looks down at his plate as Simon tugs Johnny close to him.

“You listen ‘ere, Sergeant. I’ll say this once, and I won’t repeat it,” Simon growls. “If I hear you say one more word about my mate’s cunt, I’ll rip your throat out with my own teeth. Don’t care ‘ow many times you’ve covered me or saved my arse on the field. My rank is her rank, so from now on, I want you to drop y’r eyes when she looks at you, and I want you to say, yes, ma’am, and nothin’ else, you ‘ear that?” Johnny grits his teeth as Simon shakes his head violently, holding him firm. “And if I hear about it when I’m not around, I’ll let her cut y’r dick off, yeah? Or maybe I’ll let her shoot you in the head again. And trust me, mate, she won’t miss–”

“Simon,” you interrupt gently. Simon’s face turns, and you meet his eyes. You shake your head a little. “It’s…it’s okay. Johnny’s just a huge flirt, and it came out wrong. Didn’t it, Johnny?”

Simon closes his fist, letting out a sharp breath. His eyes are a little darker than you’re used to. You’re not sure he’ll listen to you, but when you see his fingers start to loosen, you relax a little. You don’t understand why he’s defending you, anyways, but maybe Simon has some twisted moral code when it comes to insulting his mate.

That only he gets to, and no one else.

“Yeah–” Johnny spits, and when Simon lets him go roughly, Johnny just laughs a little. His cheeks are rosy, and he tries to shake it off, but you can tell by the way he averts his eyes and the smell that wafts from him–Johnny is terrified of his lieutenant.

Simon stands, making the table rattle again. Johnny’s cup spills over the edge, and your cutlery falls to the floor as he makes his way out of the mess hall, throwing the doors open and letting them slam shut behind him. You scoff, rolling your eyes, and you swipe Gaz’s fork from his tray before continuing to eat.

“What the fuck is his problem?” You stab your sausage with the fork, cutting it angrily, and Johnny clears his throat. His rubs the back of his neck, rolling it out carefully.

“Yer serious?” Johnny scoffs. “Fuckin’ big man is in love with ye.”

Not me. He’s in love with…her.

“He’s just mad because he thinks he’s the only one entitled to say anything derogatory to me,” you explain. “He’s such an asshole, I swear. So are you, Johnny, by the way–I’m not gonna wet your dick for you, go flirt with someone else.”

Gaz snorts, shaking his head, and you pour him a little more coffee from the pot Simon left for you and some for yourself.

“Kind of sweet, innit?” Gaz murmurs. “He cares about you, you know.”

“Yeah?” You raise a brow. “Has a real funny way of showing it. You don’t see him when we’re alone. He’s mean. I don’t know what goes on in your heads, but your kind jump to conclusions. And you assume. And you’re too aggressive.”

“Well, what did you expect?” Gaz asks. He turns to look at you, shrugging. “That’s how we’re made.”

“I try everyday to be anything but how I’m made,” you say lowly.

It’s a lousy excuse, especially for an operative like him. Kyle and Johnny are no strangers to aversion or high-stakes. There is combat, and then there is what this team does. You’ve peeked at the papers on Simon’s desk. You’ve read the files you have no clearance to read. For the air-headedness that Simon radiates, he’s excellent at writing post-op reports, with fine detail. He doesn’t miss anything. This team isn’t something like SWAT–they don’t carry big guns for show and break down suburban houses. They hit foreign targets without a trace and eliminate threats before they blink. They are in and out of a building in thirty minutes, and they leave no man behind and no target alive. Each of them are experts in their own subject, and even with Johnny’s big, disgusting mouth, you cannot deny what makes him special.

He could make an explosive out of regular kitchen supplies; maybe even out of the toiletries you keep in a go-bag. His affection for chemistry is as equal to that of a good, protein-rich meal. Kyle is no different–you’ve seen him just for fun program an auto-correct feature into John’s laptop that replaced every word that he typed that started with a vowel to shitfucker. You saw him do it remotely. Over Bluetooth. With a Blackberry.

These aren’t just operators. These aren’t just idiot, self-engorged, misogynistic and animalistic men that panted and waited for orders like lovesick puppies, they are much too intelligent and way too self-aware. You won’t take that’s how we’re made as an excuse–it’s beneath them, if you’re being honest, and it’s infuriating. They aren’t a normal pack, and they never will be, and so you need them to stop using stereotypical excuses as reason for them being just like the rest.

It is conscious. It’s disgusting. It’s exactly as you thought it would be.

“Well maybe if ye tried that less, tried just being what ye are…things would be easier for ye,” Johnny mutters, picking up his overturned cup and sighing sharply through his nose. You drop your fork and lean forward on your elbows.

Oh, alright. If Johnny wants to play rank, then you can play rank.

“You know, you both have a lot of nerve,” you say lowly. “I would start being very fucking nice to me from now on. Simon and I may not get along, and maybe we never will. But he sure as shit won’t stand aside if tuck my tail between my legs and blame one of you for something you didn’t do.”

“Thought you said he hated you?” Gaz mocks. “Thought you said he was mean?”

You stand up and shove your tray towards them, starting to walk. You lean over to murmur in Gaz’s ear.

“He is,” you threaten. “But he’s still an alpha, my alpha, and pussy talks, Gaz. You’d know. You’ve been drooling for it since I sat down. I can smell you, too.”

You pat Gaz’s cheek a bit too roughly, and he snarls a little. You smile to yourself as you make your way out, and down the hall, you see a familiar shadow disappear around the corner into the darkness. You cross your arms over your chest, sighing, and then you start towards it.

When you round the corner, he’s standing right there. Leaned against the wall, big arms crossed over his chest. His face twitches under the mask. You move to stand in front of him so you can get his eyes.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want to babysit me, you can’t seem to leave me alone.”

“I have others to answer to if something happens to you.”

“Don’t act like you care what other people think. Especially your superiors.” You roll your eyes. You don’t have much more time to talk to him. Or berate him, you were still deciding. A shadow comes up next to you, and when you turn, Captain Price is staring at you both, nodding his head behind him.

“I need to have a word. With both of you.”

You give Simon a look, but he doesn’t give one back. He merely slips a hand down your back and puts you in front of him, ushering you to walk. You’ve never been reprimanded by a superior, not because of a mission or anything of stake, so you can’t help the feeling that overcomes you–something of failure.

Had you done something wrong? Surely you had.

John’s office is bigger than Simon’s, but just as messy. Messier. There’s a pretty beta secretary out in front of it, and she smiles at you and waves. She’s too cute–too sweet. She probably puts sugar in John’s tea to make him smile or draws little smiley faces on messages from missed calls. You pity her and wish you were her all the same. When she notices your solemn face, she shrinks and dips her head, picking up her pen and continuing to fill out some forms.

John waits for both you and Simon to sit before shutting his office door behind him. He sucks on his teeth before tossing his hat onto his desk, nodding towards the two creaky seats in front of him.

“Sit.”

“Rather stand,” Simon counters, but one hard look from his captain, and Simon is begrudgingly taking a seat. The metal creaks under his weight, and you take a seat next to him. John sits on his desk in front of you both, and he looks at Simon before ending on you.

The scents in the air are driving you insane. You take a breath to try and keep your eyes from watering, but it’s difficult.

“You know, Kit, our team isn’t known for…following the rules,” John begins. “But I was assured that…if anything went wrong, that my lieutenant here would be responsible. He vouched for you.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You prepare yourself for the beratement. You sit up a little straighter, squaring your shoulders. The neutral expression your face falls into seems to irk your captain. He scrunches his nose a bit, smoothing a palm over the papers in front of him. He’s trying to establish his air of dominance, but it’s increasingly easy to stare him back down when your alpha sits right beside you.

There’s comfort in his presence, and your omega feeds on it.

“I saw you shoot. Got a good eye for those kinds of things, I’ll admit,” John nods. “And you did well in training. Followed Simon. His orders. Saw you clearin’ rooms like you’ve been on this team for years.” He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Blue, but empty. “He was right. Fast learner. You know your place.” You narrow your eyes at that, and he hums. “But it doesn’t change what this is. What you are.”

You’re surprised at the way your omega curls in your gut. Angry. There’s an alpha insulting you, but this one isn’t yours. She warms your hands, and you dig your nails into your chair to keep her calm. She wants to bite, and she’s confident with Simon at her side.

“An asset?” You try talking instead.

“A liability.” John leans forward. “You put my men in danger. Going into heat like that.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. It’s alienation. You are an outsider. Not part of his pack. John draws a circle around himself, and you are not included in it, and the sentiment leaks into his words like a flood, and it hits you through the chest. Your lip trembles just slightly, but you swallow down the rejection, keeping it close. Your omega whimpers–an alpha, though it is not your own, is isolating you, and it hurts her.

“She didn’t–” Simon is interrupted by John’s laughter.

“You were off comms for 15 minutes and 37 seconds, an amount of time that during an op is fucking critical and could’ve blown the entire operation!” John snaps. “I told you to be fucking careful, I told you both to take precautions, and you failed me. I can understand you–” He points at you, and omega lingers unsaid, “but you, Simon? You–”

“It wasn’t his fault, it was mine,” you interrupt. “I should’ve known.”

“He’s your alpha, it’s his fuckin’ job,” John clarifies. “But Simon has more than one job, and on that day, it was keeping the target in his sight and waiting for my fuckin’ say.”

“Don’t reprimand him for making the call,” you tell him. “I’m the one who misread what I was feeling. I’m the one who distracted him from what he was doing. I’m the one who was projecting so badly, he had to help. It’s me. I screwed up. I’m just as much of your team as they are, so hold me accountable, not Simon.”

“You are not on my team, you are my problem.”

She wails. She grips your heart in both hands and hangs on, crying, wailing, begging you to say something to make him approve of you. She so desperately wants to be included in Simon’s pack, and it aches inside to be pushed away. You dig your nails in further, and you don’t realize how much your scent is flaring. Simon gets one whiff of it and snarls. His hands close into fists.

You goin’ to let tha’ wanker talk to your mate tha’ way? You goin’ to let another alpha walk all over her? He’s challenging you, tha’s wot this is, innit?

“Choose y’r next words wisely, Captain.” Simon finally speaks, and his tone rattles you. His voice dips low, and you can hear his alpha soaking into his words, and the bitterness in the air has to be him deciding whether or not today would be a good day to stand up to his captain.

“Tha’ right, Simon?” John murmurs. “Is that an order?”

Simon stands. Immediately, the humidity in the room expands, and you nearly choke from the sting of their scents in the air. Simon is much larger than John. He’s so much bigger, so much wider. You stand, too, and when Simon feels your hand along his bicep, his shoulders loosen just an inch.

Your omega may beg for approval and inclusion, but even she stands down when you remind her of the importance of pack bonds. You are not mated, and Simon has his own to keep, so you must appease. It hurts to do it, but you know you will thank yourself later.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” you say softly. “I-It won’t happen again. I swear…I promise.” Your eyes water, and you try to hold in the cough you’re holding. “First time…and the last time.”

Simon’s task force is a unique group. Four alphas–a lot of ego and fighting dominance in one bunch. It’s normally not done. They like to have a nice mix of betas and alphas to keep groups balanced, but Kate needed an exceptional group, so she built one. Four alphas in one pack is not common, but it works–and she has the stats to prove it.

You wonder if she knew what would happen when she threw you into the mix. How each of them might react when an omega tried to slip in between them. If Kyle would try to sink his teeth in. If Johnny would pass out from panting so fucking hard. If John would let his resolve slip for just long enough to blur the lines between a commanding officer and his subordinate.

Maybe Simon reacted just as she expected. That he would see what was meant just for him and pull her apart so he could slip under her ribs and stay right there. You have not been claimed, and yet–it is truth. They know it, Simon knows it, you know it, and so does your omega.

Simon paces in his room. A slow pace, but paces, and you observe him from your place on the bed as he breathes deeply. His alpha is leaking through the cracks, and you can smell his anger. It fumes, makes your nose curl. It’s a bitter scent. Your omega purrs in your chest–she wants to soothe him.

We will do no such thing. Shut the fuck up.

“You need to let me handle things when we get cornered like tha’.”

“I’m a big girl, Simon,” you say softly. “And it was my mistake.”

“It doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” Simon explains. “I’m your alpha.”

“I don’t care,” you shake your head. “You don’t speak for me.”

“No, I speak for us both,” Simon points a finger at you, coming closer. “For you and for me, and you need to understand tha’.”

You glare up at him. In all the time you’ve spent with him, he’s still letting his alpha bleed when he’s angry. You need to understand nothing–Simon needs to learn. He needs to learn that the omega they write about in textbooks isn’t reality. You fight your omega tooth and nail for control, and you are still on top for now. Simon needs to learn this. He needs to learn that you are not easily influenced by command. You may smell like an omega. You may keen like an omega.

But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I submit like an omega.

“Fuck you.”

Don’t talk like that…you know you want to.

“Ya already ‘ave, kitty,” Simon spits. “Would you like to go again?”

“I know this is hard for you to get through your thick head,” you whisper. “But just because I fucked you doesn’t mean anything. What happened between us was clinical. Your dick is medicine, and there was nothing I could do, and that is where this ends. You can tell yourself over and over again that you are my mate…that you’re my hero, that you saved me, but maybe next time, I’ll just let my omega kill me. The thought of you inside of me ever again makes me physically fucking sick.”

You’re a bad liar.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say lowly. He leans closer, until his face is nearly against yours. “You’re a pathetic, insecure, waste of space. I will never be your mate, and I pity every omega that might come after me, that has the unfortunate mistake of thinking you could claim them with any sense at all. You use and you abuse, and you have your head so far up your ass, I don’t think you know what’s real and what isn’t.”

Simon stares. You stare back. Your chest heaves, and so does his, and you keep your eyes on each other as you stare back and forth. His eyes are so dark. Beautiful, but so dark, it’s difficult to tell what he’s thinking. It’s not long that you notice his lashes fade to blonde at the end of them. His skin, where it bleeds from the eye-black he wears to the pale color of his face, has freckles scattered around the eyes. You can see the raised, white line of a scar that is just peeking from under the mask.

Isn’t he so pretty?

“On your knees,” Simon murmurs.

It’s whiplash. One moment, your entire body is buzzing. Angry, fiery–you can feel it shaking you. You hate him with ever fiber, want to smack the smug look you know he wears under that mask. You hate the power that he has over you and how much he relishes in it. The next moment, in a few slow words, it vanishes.

Like it was never even there at all.

“Excuse me?” You breathe.

“On your knees. Lose the pants. ‘n y’r knickers.”

“What makes you–”

“Won’t ask again.”

We need this. We need this. We need this.

It’s just that easy. For all the resolve that it feels like you have, maybe you really have none. You blink, but then he hears the sound of you toeing off your boots. They hit the floor, and then your cargos are falling on top of them, and then you’re turning over, sliding along the warm sheets of his bed until you’re lying on your tummy, ass up, and you’re closing your eyes as his gloved hands push your panties down your thighs until they’re around your knees.

You don’t really know who’s doing it. You’re afraid to think about it too hard, because you know that it just might be you.

He eats nasty. All tongue. He spreads your ass with big palms, and you gurgle when he kisses your folds with tongue. Your brain starts to fog, and you relax easily. He kisses soft and slow, but wet. You fist the blankets, pushing back, and he slides a thumb down to smooth over your puffy clit very gently. He hisses when he sees your hole flex in response, a drop of slick falling onto his palm.

“Kitty, why didn’t ya just say so?” Simon asks, stupid and fascinated by you. “Why didn’t you just say you wanted y’r pretty pussy kissed, hmm?”

“Because I hate you–” You whine, and Simon slips his tongue inside of you. You babble, your mouth dropping open, and he hums as he gets a taste of you before pulling back, smacking his lips. The taste of you spreads across his tongue, and his alpha howls. He’s never spoken to him this way, not really. The only time his alpha has ever really come to the forefront like this was the times he thought he was close to death; but Simon’s never been this close to life, either.

“I know,” he coos. “I know ya do. But this isn’t personal, is it?” He uses his thumbs to open you up, growling when he sees your hole pucker a little. A dribble of slick falls, and he catches it with his tongue, swallowing it down. “How’d ya put it, luv? ‘s medicine?”

“Your dick is medicine.”

“My mouth, too, I reckon.”

“Shut the fuck up, and eat me, baby,” you whimper, and he opens his mouth wide and licks with a thick tongue. He presses his mouth to your cunt and eats, bobbing his head as he alternates between slobbering licks and eager sucking. His tongue slides between your folds occasionally before slipping into you, and you curl your toes every time he brushes against your clit. His thumb will sometimes circle it, or his tongue will suck softly, but he never stays there too long. Simon likes to tease. He likes to make you a little desperate, likes to get you soft and drippy and dizzy, and then he gives in a little. He gives you two fingers, gloved still, and you push back against his face with gentle grinds as he fucks you softly with his hand. It’s agony and relief all at once.

“Like tha’?” He asks. He sounds amused. You hope his hard cock gets pinched by his zipper.

“Mmm–” You try. You arch your back, getting up onto your elbows, and Simon uses his free hand to give one side of your ass a nice smack, jiggling it gently before kissing where he hit. You giggle at that, soft and airy.

“Answer me, omega.”

“Fucking love it,” you gasp. “Big fingers–”

Simon laughs at that. You can smell his ego, but you don’t have it in you to say something smart. It’s true. Even with his hand, he fucks good, hitting deep. His mouth did wonders, and you’re dripping along his hand. His glove is soaked, and his forearm is wet, and when you glance down at the sheets, they are damp and dark with the mess you made. Simon doesn’t seem to mind. He leans in to eat more, pulling his fingers out so he can use his mouth again, tongue deep as he sucks and hinges that big jaw to get a mouthful of you and groan. You taste good–nice and sweet, thick juices wetting his chin, and he squeezes your ass in appreciation when you throw it back and smother him. He likes this. Likes the lack of air, the wet pussy, the soft whines. He’s content here, and he doesn’t seem like he wants to move anytime soon, and he doesn’t complain. He just opens his mouth and swirls and tongue and fuck–your clit is in his mouth, and you’re crying.

It’s too kind. An alpha kneeling for their mate. Taking pleasure in their pleasure. It’s not unheard of, but it’s…unorthodox. It confuses you. Your omega cries with happiness, but she’s confused, too. She doesn’t expect pleasure just for pleasure–but she wants it, she wants more of it, she’s digging her nails into your skin to try and get you to convince Simon to give you more, more, more.

“Give it to me,” Simon murmurs. “‘s olright. Give it to me.”

“Simon–”

“Mhm,” he nods, cocking his head and taking your clit into his mouth again. “Give it ‘ere.”

Your orgasm hits hard, but it’s nice and slow. Your thighs shake, but Simon sinks into you, breathing out through his nose as he delicately laps at your clit. He doesn’t stop, swallowing as you come into his mouth, keeping the pace to make sure your orgasm fizzles just as good as it hit you.

You sink to your tummy when he pulls away. Your knees give out, and he slips your panties completely off, and you flop onto the dry side of the bed. You start to cry. Not tears of relief, but tears of pain. Of what is inevitable. Of the hard truth that you loathe more than anything.

Simon can never force you. You will always want him, you think. There will always be something in the back of your mind that aches for him, and you try and you try and you try to fight it off, but you want him so viscerally, it cuts you deep where you’ll never notice it.

“Say wotever you want about me,” Simon mutters. “Tell yourself wotever you want that helps you sleep at night, hate me oll you want. But I take care of wot’s mine.” He strokes your hair out of your eyes, leaning down, and you cry harder. You clutch a pillow, hug it tight, and your eyes flutter open as you look at him. His mask is still hiked up just under his nose, and you can see half his face. Scars that cut across him like paintbrush strokes, adding texture and depth where there shouldn’t be.

“You have no idea what it’s like,” you whisper. “You have no idea what it’s like for every single part of yourself to betray what you want. You don’t get it. Y-You don’t understand, you never will. You will always have the upper hand, and y-you will never know what it’s like to not have a choice.”

Simon continues to brush through your hair with his fingers. Soothing you gently, coaxing you into a headspace that feels like white noise. You whine, and Simon comes closer. He presses his mouth to your forehead, soft, gentle, his scent close enough that your beating heart slows down considerably just in response.

“No, I won’t,” Simon agrees. “But that’s what you are. You’re an omega.”

He says it like it’s so simple. Like it explains everything in the entire world. Being an omega is the simplest answer he could ever give, and it explains every variable, every nuance, every quirk that makes you you. It explains every time you sink to your knees for him. It explains how easily you let him fuck you on a rooftop in a foreign country. It explains how even though you hate him with every fiber of your being, there is somehow no one else you want standing over you now.

“I’m still me.”

“No,” Simon shakes his head. “You cannot change wot you are. You’re fighting her, and you will lose.”

You wonder, for just a second, if Simon is speaking from experience. Have there been times when his alpha takes over? Does it take control? Are there times when he looks in the mirror, too, and doesn’t know who is staring back?

“I hate her, too,” you spit. “I hate her, and I hate you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his terrible face. The first one you’ve ever seen. You hate the urge you have to lean forward and kiss it.

“She is you.”

“Then I hate me. I hate myself.”

Simon changes the sheets silently. He picks you up and moves you when he has to–two big, burly arms picking you up like you’re a feather. You cling to his neck, studying him, and you find yourself not being able to look away. He’s so capable. He’s so independent. He’s so reactive to your needs, it infuriates you, how could one man be so in tune with you, more than yourself?

He drapes all new blankets over you. He turns out most of the lights, except for the low glow of the yellow lamp on his desk. He tucks you in, making sure you’re warm, and then he bends down to say something to you, in your ear.

“Dunno wot you think,” he tells you, “but there will be no omega after you.” His voice drops low, and when you close your eyes, you hear his alpha. Threatening, affirmative, exact. “You are mine. I’ll not ‘ave another. The sooner you accept tha’, the easier things’ll be for you.”

Mine, mine, mine–

“Eat a dick.”

Mine, mine, mine–

“Much prefer y’r cunt, kitty.”

Simon’s protection is instinctual. It’s not really a choice, it’s subconscious. He watches you braid your hair in your room, observes as you tuck it behind your ears and tie it off your face. He hovers as you gear up. Watches you buckle your belt, strap your tact vest, adjust your helmet. He comes over after you’ve laced your boots, tugging on your vest to make sure it’s secure and fastening your helmet for you. You let him as you clip your watch on, closing your eyes as he smooths a thumb across your cheek and turns you towards the door.

It’s a long flight. You fall asleep, your face smushed against his arm, and when you wake up, Simon is still sitting there, hands on his knees, staring straight ahead. John smokes, Gaz has a folded up little book in his hand with what seems like sudoku pages, and Johnny is twirling what looks like a fidget spinner in one hand. You blink awake, but it’s dark out, pitch-black.

That’s the job. Dark, where you can use night as cover. Stealth. You and Simon have been tasked with clearing out one building on your own. Several stories, possible targets inside, presumed armed and dangerous. You were given the clear to eliminate any threats on sight–the op is capture or kill, and John made that very clear in a small room that reeked of his authority.

The bird drops you a few kilometers from where your target building lies. You flip the night-vision down, flicking it on, and you stick to Simon like glue as you follow him silently through empty streets. You’re somewhere in Eastern Europe, somewhere cold and unfeeling and just on the border of Russia. You aren’t privy to any more details; all you know is that your mission is to be Simon’s cover, and you have the face of your target memorized and burned into the back of your eyes.

You spot your target building at the end of the block. The streetlight flickers, and it looks like a low-income apartment building. It’s very small, dilapidated, with a peeling entrance door that has the window broken, hastily patched up with duct tape. It’s no trouble for Simon to stick the scope of his rifle through the duct table and shred the remaining glass to pieces, putting his hand through the window and unlocking the door easily.

The first few floors are clear. Simon always enters a room first, with you in quick succession. You are silent, touch and go, soft taps on shoulders that the both of you can read immediately. You’re in tune with him. When he steps left, so do you. When he turns, you cover, when he sweeps up, you sweep down. It’s a dance, a very well coordinated one, and it lets Simon breathe easier when he realizes how well you’ve adapted to each other over a short period of time.

Just a few weeks, and you are two sides of each other.

Simon swallows down the prideful purr in his chest. Now isn’t the time to get distracted.

When you make your way to the top floor, just below the roof, your chest starts to feel warm. You pause at the top of the stairs as Simon keeps his rifle trained at the first door in front of him. You swallow hard, widening your stance to keep yourself upright. You shake your head, trying to toss the jitters off of you. Your throat hurts as the saliva goes down.

Simon clears the room with you shuffling close behind. You blink rapidly when you see two of Simon, and he whips around suddenly. You can see him through your night vision stiffening in front of you. Shoulders tensing, fingers gripping his rifle tighter. You pause as he comes close to you, and your eyes water when he lifts one hand from his gun to cup your face gently.

You know what he’s asking. You nod shakily, and he taps his wrist with two fingers.

Give me two minutes, is what he’s saying to you.

You don’t get two minutes.

The door behind you slams open. Two men breach inside, and they come at you with a force too strong, and you go flying towards the far wall. Your back hits it hard, and you collapse onto the ground. Your whole body aches, and you know there will an array of nasty bruises under the skin. Your helmet took the brunt of the hit, but you still feel dizzy as it falls off your head, clattering to the ground. You cough, scrambling for your rifle that is a few feet away from you now, and Simon drops one of them with a few easy bullets, but the second man uses his dead companion as cover, throwing the body at Simon until he can lunge at him.

Simon swipes the blade out of his boot and goes for his weak spots. He manages to get him under the arm, across his thigh, but Simon is wearing a lot of gear, and with the weight of a dead alpha getting tossed at him again, he gets moved backwards enough to lose his footing, and then it happens.

The man’s gun fires, and it goes straight for Simon’s head. A flash of light that seals some sick sort of fate that you know can’t be yours. It’s not you that screams in response.

It is your omega.

You launch yourself at him. In your daze, your omega finds clarity, and she seizes her moment. You slip the blade out of its place in your thigh holster, and you toss a nearby chair at him to incapacitate his gun. It gets trapped underneath it, enough time for you to jump and land on him from behind.

He’s an alpha. Physically, you should be no match for him given your size differences, but something else is taking over. Your nails don’t just grab, they pierce his skin. Digging it, shredding flesh, and you bring your blade down over and over again against his chest. He screams in pain, trying to wriggle you off. You lock your ankles around his middle, keeping your hand coming, tearing with your nails and slicing with your knife, but he manages to get an arm underneath you and throw you off.

You hit the ground again roughly, but it doesn’t stop your omega. She gets right back up, but he tackles you. He uses his weight to pin you down, and the knife rings as it slides across the room, but your omega doesn’t let it stop her. He got too close, and she will make sure he regrets it.

He went for your mate, and she cannot have that. She won’t survive without him. Unclaimed, but she doesn’t care–Simon is hers, and she won’t let him go without something all-encompassing and violent. He’ll have to pry Simon out of her dead hands. You feel like you’re watching from the sidelines. You’re not yourself. It’s the first time that you don’t really care.

You scream, leaning up, and he doesn’t get a moment to think before you sink your teeth into the plush of his scent gland and rip it clean out.

Fuck. There’s blood gushing everywhere, spurting from where you’ve severed the gland. The gland is precious, anatomically–it provides most of the oxygen to the brain, and it’s what seals the bond. While it can’t be marked the same way an omega’s can, an alpha can’t survive without it. You’re finding out just how precious it is as you watch an alpha cough and sputter once he realizes what’s happening to him.

He crawls off of you, trying to use his hand to put pressure to his neck, but it’s no use. He leans against the wall and chokes, blood filling his mouth, and you spit out the flesh from between your teeth as you watch him gurgle and kick his feet out. He reaches out for you, pleading in his eyes, but you feel no mercy. There’s tears coming down his face now, and you watch with a scowl as the blood spills between his fingers instead of bringing his brain precious life.

Good fucking riddance.

You turn over once you’re satisfied he won’t get up. You see Simon still sprawled on his back behind you, and you scramble to get to him. You grab his helmet and throw it off, and you start to cry, feeling around and realizing there’s something sticky oozing and pooling onto your fingers. You can’t see very well in the dark, but you put pressure anyways, unsure of what you’re dealing with. Your heartbeat is loud, and it echoes in your ears.

“No–No!” You gasp. You grab Simon’s radio, hands shaking as you press down onto the button.

“Bravo-6, d-do you c-copy?” You cry. “Bravo-6, answer–please–”

“Kit?” John’s voice comes out surprised, low. “What happened?”

“Si–Ghost–” You sob, “W-We need a medevac! Medevac–top floor–”

Your hands continue to shake as you reach for the bottom of his mask and rip it off. It’s the first time you’ve seen him without the mask, but you need to know. You need to know.

His face–it is a little ugly. The eye-black is smeared across his freckles, bleeding across his face from the sweat. He has scars everywhere; they criss-cross along his cheek, cut his lips, but you ignore that as you lean down and put your ear to his mouth.

His breaths come shallow and slow.

You cry with relief, feeling around with your fingers. When all you feel is blood, you pick up his helmet and cry harder when you notice the side of the helmet has been grazed, and the bullet casing lies near his head.

He had missed.

He missed.

You cup his face, tapping his cheeks gently, trying to wake him up.

“Simon?” You whisper, sniffling. “Simon, wake up. Please wake up. Please–”

You can’t carry him. Even if you tried to get your omega to help you, you aren’t physically strong enough to pick him up and carry him out. He’s too big and too heavy, and you wouldn’t be useful anyways; you’d be without cover trying to haul his ass to a bird that’s just too far away.

“Simon–”

He coughs. You gasp, wrapping an arm under him and trying to sit him up. He’s so much heavier with all of his gear on, but you do it anyways, lifting him up and laying his head in your lap. You lean down, pressing your forehead to his, and you cup the back of his neck.

“I thought he killed you–” You sob. Simon hums, his eyes opening and closing, and you smooth a few fingers down his cheek, relieved to hear him breathe. In and out, in and out, low and slow as he blinks away the spots in his vision.

Your eyes meet. It’s not a look you were expecting. You expected him to be angry, but he’s not. He’s looking at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. You must look a sight, you think. There must be blood on your face, staining your teeth, but all of your senses are dulled as you try and read him.

Your hands shake as you brush a bit of dust off his face. Your fingers are trembling, but it’s grounding to touch him and see him blink those dark eyes up at you. God, he’s not ugly, no, he’s gorgeous. He’s so beautiful. He’ll never be prettier than the way he is now. Raw and vulnerable–Simon is most himself here, you think, stuck in the in-between of an operation. This is where he must feel everything the most. You open your mouth to say something else, to ask him if he’s okay, but then his face scrunches when he finally realizes where you are.

“On the door,” Simon mutters. “Get y’r gun on the fuckin’ door.”

“Simon–”

“Now!”

You scramble to reach for the handgun in your thigh holster, turning to get up on your knees and cover the door. You will your hands to stop shaking, gripping the handle of the gun tight to keep them steady. You can hear Simon getting himself together behind you. Shuffling onto his feet, picking up his rifle and his helmet. When you look over your shoulder for just a second, you notice his mask is back on.

“Bravo-7 to Bravo-6, east building clear,” Simon rasps. He shoves his way past you, rattling you a little, and you stare at his back, defeated, as he clears the rest of the floor before making his way up the last flight of stairs. You hear your captain responding on comms, but you’re not paying enough attention. Simon slams the roof door shut once its behind you, and you wipe your eyes as Simon gets situated for overwatch as you cover the door.

“Simon, are you–”

“I don’t want to hear another word outta you unless we got contact on this fuckin’ roof,” Simon interrupts.

“I saved your ass!” You cry. “I did that! He would’ve killed you, you fucking asshole, so for once in your life, can you just look at me and say a fucking thank you?!”

Maybe Simon’s right. If you fight your omega, maybe you will lose. She might just kill you. You know she can. You’ve seen it happen before. Omegas that didn’t listen, losing themselves to the insanity of their inner struggle. It’s a violent end. It’s like they electrocute from the inside-out. Their minds betray them, and they let it take over, and with no alpha to soothe them, they’re just gone. If they drift too far, you can’t get yourself back.

Use me. I know what to do. I can get him back.

You do the only other thing you can try; you let your omega do the talking. The sweet, syrupy voice. The soft lilt. The edge that glides, doesn’t cut, the one that will hit his ear just right and hopefully get his alpha tick-tick-ticking inside of his head. The one that didn’t work on Kate–but Kate was not your mate. Kate never responded to you at all, not the way Simon does, and Kate has never tasted your cunt. Her alpha doesn’t know what she’s missing.

I can do it. Let me in.

“Please, Simon,” you beg. You see his fingers twitch as he adjusts the scope on his rifle. They falter, adjusting it just a few degrees too far. Simon doesn’t make mistakes, but then again he’s never had his omega purring in his ear like that. “Please.”

You make your way to him, curling a hand around his bicep. You tug him closer, trying to get him to look at you. He resists, but it’s a pathetic kind of resistance. The kind that you can overpower with just another firm tug. You can sense it, his hesitance, and your omega giggles in your head.

I have him. I can do it. Don’t worry.

“John was right,” Simon breathes. “You’re a problem. A liability.”

A liability because he doesn’t belong to anyone but you, maybe. He’s John’s liability. Not yours. Simon may be a part of their pack, but they should’ve picked up a fucking book when they knew you were coming. Submissiveness might be an inherent “trait” of your kind, but you realize now that is just a lie that alphas tell omegas to keep them quiet.

To keep them soft. To keep them begging. It’s probably something that your kind have learned over time, so distinct that you inherit it from someone that came before you, but you’re convinced that this kind of obedience and docility can be unlearned. It can be used.

If an omega cries, it would be stupid for an alpha to ignore it. It’s in their DNA–with just a soft whine, you can make Simon drop that rifle and bend you over any surface. They say it is for your sake. They say it is because omegas must be serviced or else they will succumb to themselves, but that isn’t what this is, and that’s not why omegas aren’t allowed in the field.

They’re not allowed because you can make Simon defy orders; because John can tell Simon something, and you can tell him something else, and you’re almost certain you know which way Simon will lean.

“Please just look at me, Simon,” you whisper. “Please.”

You cradle his face when he finally does. Your palms touch his wet mask, likely soaked with his own blood. You stand on your toes and draw his face closer to yours.

Fuck them for making you feel small. Fuck them for making you feel less than. Fuck anyone that ever made you feel like you were anything but in control, including her. If she just explained what she could do, this could’ve been a lot easier. If she just told you what she was capable of, you could’ve worked together. You could’ve given her what she wanted, and she could’ve given you what you wanted, and it could’ve been so much simpler.

“Gonna get me fuckin’ killed,” Simon growls. You start to cry again. Not because what he’s saying hurts you, but because he’s still bleeding, and all you can see when you close your eyes is that gun firing right at his head.

This is your ticket. This is your way out. Fuck Kate for making you believe that all you were meant for was being in his bed. You’re so close–aren’t you? You didn’t realize how close you were, but now you do, and you know exactly what to do.

You’re going to make them very, very sorry. You’re going to make them regret ever letting you inside. Your divisive, spitfire nature was not your line of defense. It was the indication of the future you always dreamed of, the future that is one bite-mark away from being tangible. You can taste it, like you taste what Simon wants in the air.

I can do it. I can help you. Let me in.

There was never a reason to be afraid. If anything, they should’ve been afraid of you.

You kiss him. It’s not a proper kiss, because his face is still covered, but you kiss Simon anyways. His cheeks warm, and his lips part, and you kiss him softly over and over as you take his face into your hands. When his arm slides around your waist, your omega is comfortable letting your knees buckle.

She knows already that Simon will catch you.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!ghost #dark!simon

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transalphabf · 10 months ago

Note

im unusually tall and strong, for an omega - im not used to being physically overpowered.

maybe that's why i flinch and let you fold me into a mating press: i simply don't expect you to be stronger than me. but maybe it's instinct, to let a big, mean alpha force his cock inside, fully intending to breed me.

you tease me as you slide in. how is a sweet omega like me trying to pretend he doesn't want to be bred when his body is allowing every inch of your alpha dick inside? how could i say i don't want it when im instinctually unable to fight against your grip? what am i talking about, saying i can't get pregnant right now - i can, and i will.

after hours of fucking me, stretching my pussy open, you finally decide im ready. you shove my knees back against my chest, adjust your angle, and force your fat knot all the way inside. my bruised, battered, sensitive little cervix can't take it - finally it gives way, and as your knot pops into my ruined cunt, the head of your cock violates my womb. i finally allow my omega instinct to take over, and i open my legs wider as you fuck my uterus. your tip stretches its walls, ramming into me in preparation to mate.

when, at last, you begin to shoot ropes of hot, virile cum into my womb, i begin to cry from the pleasure. with every egg another of your wriggling sperm claims, i climax, and it only serves to milk more cum from your cock. i can't help it: im finally fulfilling my purpose.

(sorry for the long ask.. i just did my t shot and it sent me right into heat 🥴 love love love your content)

(sorry I took so long to reply to this - hope your heat was nice and intense and your pretty omega cunt was ruined from being fucked so hard)

Your cervix knows its place in the world, and its place is gripping the head of my cock like a vice, forcing me to pump my thick, hot load into your incredibly fertile womb. Just the feeling of the thick, blunt tip of my cock kissing your cervix had been driving you insane, so think how it feels once I break through to your most private place.

Just think how oversensitive you are from cumming over and over again for hours as I used your formerly tight little cunt and finally your womb itself as my cock sleeve. My knot's so big and thick that you pretty much white out at the feeling of something so huge tying you, claiming your cunt as this Alpha's.

Your eggs all being sought out by my Alpha seed, guaranteed to impregnate you, guaranteed to make you heavy and full and content with knowing your purpose as my broodmare.

#knotting nsft #omegaverse nsft #alphaomega #t4t nsft #t4t breeding #omega nsft #nsft #cervix nsft #cervical penetration #cervix penetration

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the-iceni-bitch · 2 years ago

Text

Through Every Forest

V/V: Run

Relationship: dark!Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega!Fem reader

Words: ~4.8k

Summary: Will Curtis finally make you his?

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral, p in v, knotting, kinda acrobatic 69), Omegaverse, possessive Curtis, primal kink, mentions of non con activities, rut and heat, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!

A/N: The finale! Our insane babes have feelings? Curtis is a whole fucking meal. I’m just so happy they’re getting the ending they deserve and hope y’all enjoy!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on the latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You groaned when you woke up, your wounds still sore even though it had been almost two weeks. But then you felt Curtis’s heart beating under your cheek, your eyes fluttering open so you could gaze at his face. He had spent every night with you since your last disaster of a hunt, and most of his days as well except when he had to take meetings, gently helping you as you recovered from your injuries.

But he was still angry, growling each time he had to leave you and deal with the rich, entitled assholes his operation catered to. They were making him rich, but after the fiasco of your last hunt he trusted the dicks who paid him even less. Even the fact that he had rooted out Bryce and gotten rid of the rebellious elements of his organization didn’t help his mood, Carter being the only Alpha he would trust anywhere near you.

The only thing that could make him feel any better was you, being close to you and knowing that you were safe keeping him more happy than he would ever admit. You were his now, no one else deserved you or could handle you. He was sick of pretending otherwise, even though he was still grumpy about it.

It was hard to stay grumpy when he woke up to the feeling of your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock though, groaning before he even opened his eyes and resting his hand on your head. Once he was fully awake he looked down at you, chuckling at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his sensitive head. You hummed when he stroked your cheek gently before gripping the back of your head and forcing himself down your throat, gagging and drooling all over him as you gave him a reproachful look.

“Don’t you fucking glare at me, little girl.” He popped you on the cheek once before fucking up into your mouth again, grinding against your face and purring when when he felt your nails digging into his hair-covered thighs. “Acting like you don’t love this shit when I can smell that little pussy drooling like a bitch.”

You just rolled your eyes while you swallowed around him, breathing through your nose when he started fucking your throat in earnest. He was right, you did love this. Your pussy was throbbing and clenching while his cock filled your mouth and stretched your lips until they stung, your jaw aching from being forced open so wide for such a long time. Then he yanked on your hair and wrapped his free hand around your neck and you moaned around him, choking when he squeezed until your throat constricted around his thick cock.

“That’s a good little ‘mega, fucking Christ.” Curtis grunted and threw his head back when you swallowed around him, his hips grinding against your face as he kept gripping your throat to make your muscles tighten around his dick. “You’re gonna let me knot that pretty mouth, aren’t you baby girl?”

Even though you couldn’t answer him he could see in your eyes you would, that you wanted it. Your tongue slid along his shaft as you slobbered all over him and yourself, and you could have sighed when his fingers massaged your scalp as he pushed your head up and down on his cock. His precum ran down your throat as he let you bring him closer, his voice leaving him in a low growl when you brought a hand up to play with his balls.

He couldn’t get enough of watching you like this, of knowing how much you enjoyed being used by him. It’s what let him know you were the only one who deserved him, just like he was the only one who deserved you. The two of you were made for each other, both of you vicious and primal, survivors of the circumstances life threw at you who made the best of your respective situations. And all he wanted was to make sure you never had to survive anything else.

When you squeezed his balls he bit his lip, his eyes heavily lidded as he watched your wide stretched lips grip his cock. He could feel himself starting to swell, his balls pulling tight and his knot inflating while he fixed his gaze on yours. You gagged when he squeezed your throat so tight you couldn’t breathe, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision going blurry as your cunt clenched and fluttered around nothing.

Curtis bit off a roar when he shot his thick, hot cum down your throat, his hips jerking against your face while his knot locked him behind your teeth. You swallowed every drop eagerly, your eyes bright as you laved your tongue all over him and watched his face contort in bliss. Every time you made him come you knew you would kill any Omega who tried to take him from you, no weak little bitch could ever do for him what you could. If only he would actually fuck you.

“My good girl, c’mere little one.” Curtis snorted when you just whined around his knot as he leaned down and grabbed your hips, keeping your head in his lap while he lifted your body off the bed until your ass was resting against his chest and your legs were hooked over his broad shoulders. “Good thing you’re so flexible, filly, makes everything I want to do to you that much easier. Watch your fucking teeth.”

You choked when he shoved fingers from both hands inside your pussy and pulled your clenching walls apart, his tongue pushing inside you and lapping up your slick like he had been walking in the desert for a week and you were his oasis. His beard rubbed at your folds until they were raw, your clit throbbing against his upper lip while he rubbed the inside of your pussy even as he swirled his tongue inside you. When he pulled back and spat on your cunt you shivered, your throat constricting around his cock when he smeared it all over your soft lips with the calloused pads of his fingers.

Curtis groaned against your skin when your tongue started running all over his cock again, kissing your pussy almost reverently before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. Even though he couldn’t see your face he could feel the pleasure coursing through you, your body shivering in his arms while his tongue pressed inside you once more. He had to pull away from you when you moaned around him, though, his knot swelling even more as he shot another load down your spasming throat.

“Goddamn, you just wanna have a knot in your mouth all fucking day, huh girl?” Curtis smiled and bit the inside of your thigh when you just whimpered in response, smacking your cunt and grunting when it made you let out a muffled squeal. “C’mon little one, don’t have the time to keep your mouth stuffed full, no matter how good you feel. Gimme a big one.”

He started rubbing your cunt viciously, his other arm wrapped around your waist and holding you tightly to his body while you gushed slick all over him. When he slapped your pussy again you choked as you tried to scream around his knot, your back arching and your toes curling when he kept spanking your sensitive flesh until you were soaked. You were so close, your chest heaving with ragged breaths as you struggled to control yourself even as your eyes rolled back in your head.

Three fingers plunged inside you and pressed against that perfect spot and you screamed, your entire body going stiff as you came apart at the seams. Curtis laughed softly when you squirted all over his face, dragging his tongue over you slowly to lick you clean as you kept quivering in his arms. It took another minute for his knot to go down enough for him to slide out of your mouth, and you moaned when he turned your body so you were sitting in his lap with your cheek pressed against his chest. You sighed when he scented the top of your head, letting your eyes fall closed as his hand ran over your spine while he looked out the window.

“How does your thigh feel today, filly?” Curtis kissed your hair and gently touched the scar on your side, smiling when you didn’t flinch. “You gonna be up for a longer walk?”

“Yeah.” You hummed when you felt his heart beating under your cheek. “No cane today.”

“Fucking stubborn… fine.” He had been trying so hard not to baby you after you were shot, but he couldn’t help but still feel guilty for putting you in a situation where you had been injured. “Just make sure you eat all your food and take your pain meds.”

You still let him help you walk to the table once a Beta brought your breakfast in, leaning on his arm then sitting in his lap so he could keep an eye on you. Even though he wasn’t babying you, he still refused to let you out of his reach, never wanting you more than an arm’s length away so he could ensure he was there to catch you if you fell. Once you had finished your breakfast he helped with your stretches, calling you his good girl when you just groaned at him pressing your knee to your chest before massaging your thigh. Your walk was slow, especially without the cane, and you still hadn’t gotten used to being allowed to roam the grounds without a collar and leash. Curtis smiled at you when you held onto his arm and looked up at him, letting you rest when you reached the fence at the edge of the compound.

“Do you have meetings today?” Your leg was throbbing a little but you tried not to let it show, leaning your cheek against his arm and shivering when an autumn breeze blew through the trees.

“Just one.” Hopefully his last one for a while. “And you have a checkup, so no bitching about being left all by yourself.”

You snorted when he started to lead you back to the compound, scenting his chest and sighing as his fingers ran over your spine. He kissed you before he left you in the medical center, his hand gripping the back of your neck and his fingers pressing against your gland until you were sighing into his mouth. Curtis nodded to the Beta doctor before leaving you, reluctance written all over his face when he moved back down the hall to his offices.

The doctor was gentle but thorough as he examined you, helping you stretch your limbs and making sure your mobility was still doing well as you recovered from being shot. In spite of some residual stiffness you were doing well, and he gave you the go ahead to stop using the cane which you couldn’t be more pleased about. He did warn you that with your heat coming up in a few weeks you needed to be careful about not over exerting yourself, but aside from taking a blood sample he was fine sending you back to your quarters.

Curtis’s meeting went well also, managing to land the whale after promising him a once in a lifetime opportunity and shaking his hand. His own visit to the med center went as expected, but he still had a slight frown on his face when he went back to your rooms. He just hoped you would be understanding about what he had to do.

“Hey honey.” When you were stretching when he walked in he smiled, helping you to your feet and cradling your face in his hands as he gazed into your eyes. “You look good, like you’re feeling better.”

“I am.” You could smell the change in him, like he was stressed about something. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re too fucking observant for your own good.” Curtis grumbled before bending to rest his forehead against yours. “I… shit. I have to leave for two weeks.”

“What?!” You hissed and grabbed his shirt when he tried to pull back, the look in your eyes full of distress. “The fuck you are. Where are you going?”

“That’s not important.” He hated that expression on your face, but he couldn’t stay. Curtis set his jaw and wrapped his hand around your throat, pressing his thumb against your carotid and growling until you started to relax. “This isn’t a punishment, and my people will still be reporting to me, so no throwing your fucking tantrums or I’ll take it out on your ass when I’m back.”

“You fucking bastard.” You groaned when he slapped you, wheezing when he squeezed your neck tighter and pulled you close to scent your hair. “I can’t believe you’re abandoning me, after everything…”

“I told you, I’m not abandoning you.” Curtis couldn’t stop himself from kissing you deeply, winding his arms around you and sighing when you purred against his lips. “I’ll be back, don’t be a fucking bitch the whole time I’m gone, be my good girl.”

“Wait, Curtis…” You dragged him back to you and kissed him again, just restraining yourself from climbing into his arms. “You promise you’ll be back?”

“Of course.” He rubbed your mating gland and frowned when you gave him a pathetic expression. “You’re mine now, I’m not leaving you. Just keep being good for me.”

You tried not to whine when he finally left your shared rooms, hating the disgusting, needy feeling that was sitting in your chest. That feeling didn’t go away the next day, or the day after that. But you still wanted to be good, he had to be coming back. He was the only one you trusted, the only one who made you feel safe. So you ate all your meals, and did all of your physical therapy exercises. You even let Carter walk you around the compound to make sure your mobility was continuing to improve. It wasn’t the same without him, though. Every night when you tried to fall asleep all you could think about was how cold the bed was without Curtis.

Two weeks passed so slowly without him. You should have hated how upset you were when he wasn’t with you, but all you could feel was lonely. It was even worse that your heat snuck up on you a week early, making you moan and whine as cramps made you double over and slick stain your thighs. When the sun began setting on the fourteenth day you started when Carter came into your rooms unannounced, frowning when he held up a white silk shift and looked at you expectantly.

“What is that for?” You shivered and groaned in your nest when he came closer, gripping one of Curtis’s shirts tightly when another cramp wracked you. “I’m not supposed to do hunts anymore.”

“It’s from Curtis.” Carter sighed, not enjoying the subterfuge so matter how necessary it was. “I’m going to take you to see him. He asked you to trust him.”

“You… alright.” You scowled and plucked the shift from his grip, waiting until he turned around to take off your sweats and put on the nightie. “If this is some kind of trick I’ll fucking kill the both of you.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He chuckled when you just sniffed at him and let him lead you out of your quarters. “That’s why you’re the boss’s girl.”

You found your face heating up when he called you Curtis’s girl. It was stupid, but with how damn hormonal you were you felt flattered. The two of you didn’t talk while he drove you out towards the hunting grounds, your anxiety starting to go up when you saw a collection of bright lights centered on a clearing right in front of the lodge. Another cramp hit you and you whined, shivering in the cool night air and grateful that Carter was on suppressants so you didn’t have to worry about that on top of everything else.

One of Curtis’s Alphas was speaking to a group of strange Alphas on the lodge’s balcony, and you could see Betas moving through the group as they took bets. In front of them was a cage, and you could hear the speaker going over the Prime Alpha specimen and you felt your blood freeze. The scent of his rut hit you and you doubled over when your cunt throbbed, snarling at Carter when he parked the jeep.

“What’s going on?” You tried to pull away when Carter took your arm and started to pull you towards the clearing but he was too strong. “Is this a fucking joke?”

“No.” Carter shook his head when he thrust you under the lights. “It was his idea.”

You whined when you saw Curtis in the cage prowling around like a dangerous animal. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were wild, and you’d never smelled a rut so potent. Every instinct you had was begging you to submit, to bend over and present to him so he could knot you and get rid of the fever and pain that was torturing you. The sight of him restrained like that was killing you, making you reach out to him until he slammed against the bars.

“I can fucking smell you.” His voice was a vicious growl, sending a vibration through your whole body that made you whimper. “I’m gonna pin you down and fuck you like a bitch until my pup’s in your belly.”

“You rat bastard.” Being so close to him while both of you were victim to your primal urges was making you lose yourself, suddenly pressing your body against the bars and keening when he did the same with a snarl. “You left me by myself just so you could mate me for a fucking audience? I should kill you.”

“You can try, ‘Mega.” He wanted to lick you everywhere, you smelled so fucking good, making his hard cock throb painfully until he had to practically hump the bar he was leaning against. “Don’t think it’s gonna go your way. Besides, not like I could stay around that ripe fucking cunt for two weeks while my suppressants wore off without fucking you senseless.”

“Not my fault you wanted to turn into a fucking caveman.” Your body was screaming at you to give yourself to the Alpha, to present, to breed. You’d never felt anything like it, mewling and keening while you scented the bars right in front of his chest. “You could’ve told me what the fuck was going on.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Curtis rammed into the bars again and rumbled when you tilted your head back so he could see your swollen gland, licking his lips as he thought about what it was going to feel like when he finally knotted you. “Goddamn, I can’t wait to breed that little pussy. You’d better run for your fucking life, bitch.”

The two of you kept snarling at each other and grinding against the bars of his cage, your eyes blown wide with desire and need as your skin itched to be pressed against each other. Then the shot went off and you gave him one more smile, biting your lip before turning on your heels and sprinting into the woods. You didn’t even want to bother trying to find a hiding place, you just wanted to run. You wanted him to chase you down and catch you and pin you to the ground while he claimed you. Your blood was up, the moon was bright as it shone through the trees, and you wanted to give in to the wild instincts that were coursing through your veins.

There was no point in trying to be careful, so you let your body crash through the brush as branches whipped against your face and arms, leaving your blood on the sharp wood as they scraped and scratched your skin. After twenty minutes of running you heard a howl and almost collapsed when an enormous cramp made your core clench, your breath coming heavily as you fought through the pain and kept running. You could hear the trees groaning and shaking far away, knowing that he was drawing closer by the second and pumping your limbs even faster until your lungs were burning.

Curtis snarled viciously when he caught your scent, ripping a branch off one of the trees and throwing it aside after it slashed across his chest. He didn’t even feel the sting, completely consumed by the unquenchable lust that was filling his body. Your scent was calling to him like a beacon, your trail so clear he could have found you with his eyes closed. You were so close, and you were his. The fact that he had waited so long to claim you seemed stupid now when he was lost in a haze of pure want for you and the pups you would give him.

The air changed, and there you were. Both of you smelled each other at the same time, pausing to gaze at each other for just a moment before Curtis roared and you took off again. He chuckled when he heard you whimper, leaping over a fallen tree and stretching his legs to their limit so he could catch you. You were quick, but so was he, with longer limbs and not wracked by the constant pain you were as your heat tried to drive you to submit to him.

When he caught you you yelped, panting heavily as the two of you tumbled to the forest floor and he wound his body with yours in a tangle of limbs. Curtis shredded the delicate fabric of your shift with a snarl before he started scenting you obsessively, his lips meeting yours for only a moment then his face was buried in your neck. You could feel slick leaking down the insides of your thighs when he dragged his nose over your throat, your pussy throbbing as he breathed deeply and growled before moving to rub his face against your soft breasts. He chuffed when he lifted your arm so he could breathe in where you were most potent, making you shudder when he licked the smooth skin of your armpits then began biting his way down your stomach.

Curtis let out a deep growl and rolled you onto your stomach, biting your ass and barring his massive arm across the small of your back when you tried to wriggle away from him. He buried his face between your legs and started lapping up your slick, groaning at your taste while you quivered at his touch. As soon as he sat back up you presented for him, panting while you arched your back and bent your knees under your body.

“That’s a good little bitch.” Curtis ran his nose up your spine until his body was caging yours in, reaching down between the two of you to undo his fly while he licked your gland. “Gonna breed the fuck out of this little pussy, you’re mine.”

As soon as he shoved his cock inside you he sank his teeth into your gland and made you scream. His hands were braced on either side of your head as he began to rut into you, his voice rough each time he grunted against your skin. He was stretching you so wide it almost hurt, but you loved it. You dug your fingers into the soft earth when he started moving faster inside you, whining and biting your lip while his hips drove your body into the ground.

Curtis threw his head back and howled when you clenched around him and gasped as your first orgasm ripped through you. Your blood was filling his mouth and he’d never felt more alive, tangling his fingers with yours where your hands were braced against the forest floor. His breath came in heavy grunts as he kept fucking you in deep strokes, your body trembling as another gush of slick was pushed out of you by his fat cock. When he leaned back down to lick your neck you mewled, tilting your head to the side so he could suck on your new mark and lap it clean.

“Say it.” He nuzzled at your hair and crooned when you keened for him, his cock pummeling your swollen, wet pussy until he was soaked in your juices. “Say you’re mine.”

“Curtis…” You whimpered when he bit your ear and squeezed your hands with his. “I’m yours.”

“Fucking right you’re mine.” Curtis wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground, swallowing your sharp gasp when he pulled out of you so he could pin you against a tree. “Just mine.”

You wailed when his thick cock penetrated you again, the rough bark of the tree scraping your back as he hammered into you. His breath was hot against your neck as he pressed his body close to yours, chuffing in your ear while your pussy stretched and flexed around him. When you dug your nails into the bunching muscles of his back he groaned, driving deeper and grinning when you gave him a satisfying cry.

The look in his eyes was wild when he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers gripping your waist so tight they were going to bruise. You knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. You needed it, and him. You were never letting him go.

Curtis snarled when you bit his gland at the same time you squirted all over his cock, taking one hand off your waist so he could punch the tree right next to your head so hard the wood cracked. When the bond opened up you both groaned, the intensity of your shared emotions crashing around you as you smashed your lips together. His tongue curled against yours when you wound your arms around his neck, his knot starting to swell as his balls pulled tight.

The bond confirmed that the two of you possessed each other completely, your savage, primal instincts flooding your systems as you lost yourselves in each other. Curtis’s drool was running down your chin while he kissed you sloppily, making you moan as he kept his cock sheathed to the hilt and ground against your swollen clit until you shuddered. Your cunt clenched around him and he roared, his eyes screwing shut as he felt himself teetering on the edge of his peak.

You sobbed when his knot fully inflated and locked him inside you, letting him hold you up while his thick, warm cum flooded your womb. Both of you growled into each other’s mouths while you stayed pressed together, your eyes drinking each other up. Curtis kept rolling his body against yours as you both rode your pleasure out, wanting nothing so much as to keep you full of him for the next four days. Then the sound of one of the drones filled your ears and you hissed when a sharp stinging pain hit your neck. You saw a dart hit Curtis right before you blacked out, your body slumping against his.

When you woke up you were in a strange room, the window looking out at the empty woods where red and gold leaves were falling. You purred when you realized someone had transferred your nest to wherever you were, rubbing your face against one of Curtis’s shirts before rolling over to find him beside you. As soon as he felt you stir he opened his eyes and crawled on top of you, grunting when he just thrust inside you again immediately.

“Ah, fuck.” You moaned when he started to fuck you, your mouth falling open when he grabbed your neck and turned your face so he could lick into your mouth. “Where are we?”

“My cabin.” He drove deep and chuckled when your eyes rolled back in your head. “Had them knock us out so we didn’t rip them apart when they tried to move us. God, you feel so fucking good.”

“I know… shit.” You gripped his shirt tightly when his hips picked up speed, panting into his mouth while your pussy fluttered around him. “Don’t stop.”

“Mine. All fucking mine.” Curtis kissed you deeply and smiled against your lips when you moaned for him. “Anyone touches you again and I’ll rip their fucking spines out.”

“And if you ever go back to any of those whimpering bitches,” You bit his bottom lip until you tasted blood. “I’ll cut your dick off.”

“Good girl.” He growled and started grinding into you again, gripping the hair at the base of your skull and yanking your head back so he could lick your throat. “Don’t want any other bitch, just you and this sweet little cunt. You’re done running.”

#natalie writes #swimming through sick lullabies #through every forest #curtis everett #dark!alpha curtis everett #curtis everett smut #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #female reader #omega reader #chris evans smut #chris evans #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans character #eighteen plus

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and-loth-cat · 10 months ago

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the return of the queen

I KNEW IT OMEGA IS FORCE SENSITIVE AH

THAT WAS INSANE OH MY GOD

im so fucking happy we get two eps next week i need MORE

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hugmekenobi · 10 months ago

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Episode 12 thoughts

It was too short!!! They r building to something terrifying and I don’t like it 😩😩

Hemlock count your days I swear to god 🤬🤬

Omega recruits force-sensitive kids for a prison riot when?

I wanted more angst between the three of them over the Omega situation but it makes sense I guess

Crosshair holding his hand 😥😥

Hunter is losing it but in a more subtle way that I’m still here for

Phee mentioning Tech the way she did meant everything to me

Crosshair and Wrecker mentioning another Plan meant everything to me. And seeing them work together gave very strong S7 vibes!! Like some of Crosshair’s reactions/shots were insane!!

Crosshair and Phee filling in Tech’s role meant everything to me

Crosshair saying ‘how touching’ and his overall attitude to the situation and Rampart meant everything to me 🥵👀

HOW DARE THEY MAKE RAMPART HOT!!! HAVENT WE SUFFERED ENOUGH 😂😂 (I also thought he was dead so that was a surprise)

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb #tbb s3 #tbb s3 spoilers

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giganonyx · 10 months ago

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Writing some Sith Hunter things. He’s a little crazy but that’s ok !! Insanity gives spice !!

Wrecker is also a Sith, he’s just (surprisingly) not as unhinged.

(Hunter cannot stand the voices, Wrecker has no idea what bro is talking about ???)

In other words, I love this murder duo

*if yall are wondering, yes, Hunter and wrecker have been force sensitive since they were cadets in this AU, however, tech isn’t. Crosshair is *slightly* force sensitive, but not nearly as much as the other two.

Also, Wrecker and Hunter believe Omega, Crosshair, and Tech, are all dead. They “watched them die”, and kinda tapped into the dark side subconsciously as a treat (they don’t know they are still alive, they can hardly feel their presence anymore (what the dark side does to a mf))

Echo got separated from all of them(thinks they are all dead), but is trying to locate the “ghost” and “wraith”, two force sensitive beings who have been slaughtering the Empires forces. (Surprise !! Crazy Hunter and Less crazy Wrecker jumpscare !!)

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fyodior · 2 years ago

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Wait oh my god, omega reader in heat with alpha verlaine AND alpha Rimbaud 👁️

hhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ok so we've already discussed this some, and what i think their different strengths as heat partners would be -- verlaine would be much better at alleviating your sexual needs whereas rimbaud is likely better with the emotional/physical support. basically verlaine will fuck you raw and rimbaud will make sure you drink water

so i definitely think they tag team it like that. when you wake up agitated and so horny you can't breathe, rimbaud will rub your back and do breathing exercises with you as verlaine gets himself hard fjdjfjfd and as he fucks you, rimbaud will prepare some light food and drinks to make sure you stay hydrated and fed, which he has to really encourage you to take a few bites of afterwards. your insanely overwhelming omega hormones and scent drive verlaine fucking crazy and he ends up fucking you half to death so you're rightfully exhausted jjfjdsjfdj but rimbaud is still going to gently force you to eat and drink, and will help you either take a shower or bath afterwards. he's pretty adamant about keeping you clean too. he'll help you rearrange your nest when it falls in disarray and scent/provide you with every single sweater he owns to comfort you when pieces of your nest inevitably need to be washed. he is the most gentle, patient, and loving caretaker

verlaine on the other hand. his talent is fucking. it's not that he's a bad person and doesn't want to provide you with emotional support, that's just something he has almost no experience with and doesn't even know where to start. that being said, he'll very gladly still try, and his hugs and cuddles and sweet words are very very comforting. but good god no one does it like him. when you've fallen back into the subspace-like, primal horniness and your pawing at verlaine and whining, he'll be very gentle and kissy as he lays you on your back and spreads your legs open. shhh honey, its ok, he'll whisper into your ear as you whine and cry out, your body overwhelmed by its own biology. i'll take good care of you, give you what you need, make you feel all better. which is exactly what he does ehhehehehe you're screeching and clawing at his back as he stuffs you so full of his cock you can feel your guts rearranging. he marks and scents you just like a good alpha should, and you breathe a little easier when you inhale his scent on you. even though he's not in rut, he has to be careful and hold himself back, because your pheromones and slick that's leaving him and the sheets absolutely soaked are triggering his own alpha instincts, but he knows when you're in such a fragile state he could hurt you badly if he gives in. he will indulge and force your thighs wide open so he can spend damn near an hour drinking up every ounce of slick you have to offer - it's so fucking sweet and absolutely intoxicating, and having his tongue shoved inside of you is a good alternative when he's waiting to get hard again. and exactly like a good alpha should -- he knots you. a switch flips in you as soon as the base of his cock swells and he releases all of his cum right into your womb, one that allows you to calm down even just the slightest amount. it feels so right to be full of his cum and for it to be plugged up inside you, for the two of you to be physically inseparable, even for just a short bit of time. verlaine's knot gets big, and your painfully sensitive, swollen cunt stings and aches as he stretches you out even further than his own girth, but you've never felt like something has belonged to you more.

all of this isn't to say that rimbaud won't support you sexually ever, he just doesn't have that high of a sex drive. he can and will fuck you slow and sweet with his fuller cock, draping himself over your back and spreading your cheeks wide so he can rub his cock over every single inch of your pussy, and fill every single crevice with his cum. he gets chilly though, so typically he'll want to fuck buried deep inside the nest under the covers. i can see him teasing you sometimes, though, wanting to have a little fun. im imagining verlaine is gone for some reason, either just in the shower or off very briefly to see chuuya or something, and rimbaud is your only alpha for the next hour or so. hormones dont care when and where the best time would be to fuck, though. you've woken rimbaud up and pounced on him, mewling please pleaseplease, arthur please i need you to fuck me, but he's still half asleep and not really in the mood. so, with a small smirk, he'll position you onto his lap and kiss you, whispering honey sweet words onto your lips. "you can take care of yourself just this once, can't you? for me?" you cock your head a bit, confused as your brain is cloudy, but get the point after he yanks your soaked panties off and grabs hold of your hips to help you rock against his thigh. you gasp as your swollen clit rubs against his toned thigh, finally understanding what he means. he doesn't have to convince you more, you can be a big girl and do it yourself this time. he offers you a sleepy smile as you throw your arms around his neck and start frantically humping his thigh, dirty moans and whines directed right into his ear as your body shakes. your heightened senses makes the stimulation feel blinding, and your body seems to have a separate mind of its own as grind down on his thigh, lips spreading so you can get direct contact with your clit. you're wet, so wet, and rimbaud almost thinks you've wet yourself as you come not long after, but it's just the ungodly amount of slick and squirt released from inside you as you succumb to your orgasm, shaking and crying. you collapse into rimbaud's arms, and that's how verlaine finds the two of you when he finally returns. you passed out, drooling on his chest as he hugs you close and pets your hair.

moving on from sex (booooo boo tomato tomato tomato) i just wanted to briefly talk about how sweet i think verlaine and rimbaud would be about you blabbering about having pups. clearly, heats have one purpose and one purpose only, to breed -- and that's what you want. they'll very patiently listen as you whine about how badly you want to get pregnant, how badly you need them to get you pregnant, and just pet your hair and laugh. it'll come with time, my love. just wait, they'll coo. they'll tell you how beautiful you'd look pregnant with their pups, and jokingly argue about who's pup you'd carry first. they decide to settle it with a game of rock, paper, scissors, and verlaine wins. here's to hoping you have cute little blonde pups <3

and that is just a mild glimpse into what i think alpha verlaine and rimbaud would be like when reader is in heat <3

#this is just. word vomit i had so much to say #but i had a lot of fun with it dfjsjfssdj #voices in my head #lover: kal🐉#verlaine x reader #rimbaud x reader #cw omegaverse

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leemarkies · 11 months ago

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alight tbb s3 is tonight so here's my wish list

✅ omega is force sensitive

✅ hunter character development

new side to wrecker

✅ hunter actually hugs omega

✅ crosshair refers to omega by her name instead of "kid" or "the kid"

cody

✅(?) hemlock gets brutally torn apart

✅(?) hunter goes feral and is the one brutally tearing hemlock apart

✅ emerie redemption arc but she dies

cid bites the dust

wolffe name-drops plo koon

✅ hunter's hair DOESN'T get cut

✅ no more batchers die

✅ omega doesn't become hardened

✅ gonky

✅ either tech is dead dead or he's ok and saved. i don't want a winter soldier tech

✅ the kaminoans bite the dust

another jedi cameo (i'm not picky but for god's sake not grogu)

boba fett

cadet!bad batch flashback

✅ hunter wearing something other than his armor

wrecker poncho comeback

HONDO FUCKING OHNAKA

it's called echo base bc echo loved the location <3 not for any other reason pls and thx

undercover rex

✅(?) another ep focused on the senate politics. bring back chuchi or some new senator

❌ we get to see crosshair's reaction to the news about tech

✅(?) hunter and crosshair hug it out and apologize and stop being dramatic

✅ howzer and his fade

✅ lots of found family themes

hunter having to team up with cad bane bc that would be fucking hilarious

✅ no vader. pls.

✅✅ happy ending or new beginning

at least one (1) peaceful and fluffy episode

someone says "i love you" pls GOD

rogue one tie-in with "mark omega"

✅echo does something batshit insane

✅(?) mid-season time jump (+new character models)

#idc if these are unrealistic or whatever i don't CARE #tbh ik i'm an outlier but idc whether or not tech is alive or not #i love him but i'm ok with him being dead but i'm also ok if they pull a Star Wars and bring him back #grogu thing is an inside joke between me and my cousin bc whenever we talk about cameos he always jokes and says he hopes he sees grogu #i will be coming back to this list weekly and seeing what i can cross off #marie.txt #also i will be tagging my s3 posts as: tbbs3 #in case anyone wants to blacklist it for spoilers #tbbs3

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vinxwatches · 9 months ago

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the bad batch season 3

well the fallout show was shit. hopefully the bad batch is better. getting back to Omega who i 100% head cannoned as trans will be nice. last season ended with the death of Tech, but i still call bullshit on that.

episode 01 confined

of course Omega is her usual optimistic self. but did Crosshair lose his sharpshooting ability? that's can't be good for his psyche.

aggressive paragoning. i love it. she's growing into the roll of leader.

she really is the goodest girl.

damn, an entire episode of setting shit up. and showing the the work method of both Omega and the people she's up against, and demonstrating who will win.

also damn i missed that music.

episode 02 paths unknown

this is something you can only do with a big multiseries world like starwars. crossing the pikes means something. you can just say it, tell don't show, but it works because of all the setup for it.

insane number of last seconds, i love it. WAIT?! the carlack pit?!

setting up a clone savehaven. nice ultimate goal for the series.

ep 03 shadow of tantiss

kind of odd general grievous is in the opening considering how he's dead and irrelevant.

damn, are we going to find out what's wrong or right with Omega? i'm still thinking jedi, even if the series has shown no sign of it, it's the only thing that makes sense.

"we were in need of a shuttle, thanks so much for bringing one to us"

is it just that she's a perfect clone? didn't we already know that?

ep 04 a different approach

wait... m count transfer? m for midiglorian? so i was right?!

a confrontation that happened multiple times, finally on the same side again (sort of)

ep 05 the return

i love the Omega Crosshair banter.

time to relive some Crosshair trauma.

ep 06 infiltration

energy crossbow is cool, but i miss the energy bow.

i'm beginning to think Tech may actually be dead. since no one talks about him anymore. they moved on, and that stage of grief is rare if he's alive. but why kill him? too powerful? group too big? i don't understand. especially since he seemed to be in the middle of a romance arc.

well shit. the resistance v0 is about to die a quick death. NO YOU CAN'T END AN EPISODE THERE AT 0.07 FOR ME!!!

ep 07 extraction

you know when clones are around people are going to die.

i love some convincing the enemy to not act simply because it's the right thing.

OH SO HE GETS TO SURVIVE A FALL FROM HIGH!

ep 08 bad territory

they keep mentioning Tech. now in part this makes sense: he was one of the central cast that had a huge impact on every other main character. but on the otherside it gives the vibe that they don't want us to forget the character for one reason or another.

oh love the personal mission Omega gets.

"you don't like anything" "true" such great lines

betrayal? or asking someone to deliver info in person? probably the former.

ep 09 the harbinger

ventras? IT IS! i like her redesign. and i like that she didn't disappear from the universe, as we now see she found a new life.

like how she started not lit, but now is half lit, i wonder if that'll continue.

guys, seriously? stop it.

she and crosshair would be a fun pairing.

but surprisingly few answers for an episode that seems so set up to give answers. it seems to suggest that yes, she is force sensitive, but is lying to her about it. but not quite?

ep 10 identity crisis

is this Omega being in crisis between being a clone and a jedi? also if this is about Omega add it to the pile of Omega is trans.

oh this suddenly feels a lot more star wars rebels, the episode of protecting a kid from the empire going after those force sensitive.

we have seen her softer side, so her getting a higher position is quite positive. wait... that was behind the big ol vault door? also what's "project necromancer" about this?

do, it's not that Omega is force sensitive, but she can replicate it. in the creepiest way she'd the perfect host... the perfect artificial jedi mother.

oh no, not him.

got to love that they made the stormtroopers bulkier to make the clones we've grown to see as friends evil again.

oh. it's just an entirely grim episode. also not about Omega, but about the other female clone, so my trans reading persists (even if it was about hunter it would still persist)

ep 11 point of no return

that title does not instil confidence.

haven't seen Omega's girlfriend in way too long, and that was way too short.

well... fuck. they really just blew up the ship. their home.

oh this is weird. these aren't the new ships. this is the old, the stuff the good guys used to have.

i remember seeing a clone trooper with that big gun and thing "fuck yea big gun" and now it's terrifying. it's so cool how everything transitioned.

well... fuck. everything is awful now. they don't even have a ship to hunt for Omega anymore.

ep 12 juggernaut

they won't have Omega be stuck for 3 episode until the end of the finally... right?

"they'll detect our electronics if we got close" "not if we turn of all electronics" "but... we're flying in the direction of a planet?"

they used to be 5, often 6. now they are 3, and it feels so small for them to be able to do things.

the terrifying thing now is that wrecker can totally be killed. like Omega is save, hunter is the leader which makes him really hard to kill, and crosshair has an arc to complete. but wrecker? he's in the same position as Tech, and well.

also i was fully right on my last hypothesis on Omega

ep 13 into the breach

ok, i Love this Omega. like how her blood can grow with the midiglorians of others she has grown with the power of the team. she's now a leader like hunter, exploring smarts reminiscent of tech, and is likely going to hack into the droid controls like echo can innately. but where will we see wrecker in her?

don't make me hold my breath like that, i only have so much.

ep 14 flash strike

god i love the absolute trust in echo.

half way through, and it's now i learn that this isn't the finally, that's the next one, which doesn't appear to be out yet... fuck

ends in an evil laugh from me.

ep 15 the cavalry has arrived

final episode hype. please let it end on a positive note for once.

50 min episode? that bodes really well. that means they have time for a more complicated story, or a larger victory.

and setting up wrecker for death... please no? longer episode can also mean more complete defeat.

fuck, multiple escape plans at the same time resulting in some failing.

ouch the self condemdantion. and more setting up death with plan 99. "echo's handy work? or Omega?" in unison: "Omega". such good lines. same with Echo's line "because that's exactly what i would have done."

i don't like how calm he is. what is your plan that hasn't been countered? a clone? what could make these clones that good?

oh no. they have their own clone force 99, i guess clone force 100.

god damnit i came to this show to get away from living amputation. i get it, it's star wars. it's tradition at this stage. but still WHY!!!!! (echo may have a spare hand for you to use.)

Echo doesn't argue with Omega not leaving yet.

oh no i know what you're going to do with one of those. and why are you still with the empire. you could have joined the injured and left.

fuck yea Omega will stab a bitch.

the end of this project will mean the start of the death star. but it means clones will probably be left alone. those that are left that is.

the message of the show is that it's good to be able to be whatever you want. with that as message/theme of the show it only makes thematic sense for Omega to be trans and/or lesbian. to go against conventions, to go against what the while old men want you to be.

FUCK YEA ADULT OMEGA!!!

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #star wars #spoilers

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thecrusadercomrade · 2 years ago

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We got two episodes of Bad Batch this week. What did you think of them?

Absolutely insane! TBB has done an amazing job of handling the political thriller aspect of the show this season, both during Cody and Crosshair's episode together and now these two. I love the way they've depicted the rise of the Empire so far, how at the moment we still have the senate, and people still think they can work within the system to solve problems. The aftermath of the Kaminoans being destroyed. How the Stormtrooper Program comes into fruition. It's just perfect.

First of all, it was great to see Riyo Chuchi back. She was never a main character back in Clone Wars, but it was still so cool to see her and several other senators from back in TCW. Also, we got some good Bail Organa content these episodes. I've only recently started to realize just how awesome Bail is, so seeing him was a real treat.

It's interesting how we're see the two sides the clones are drifting towards. The ones who are beginning to question things like Cade and Slip did, and the ones who fully buy into the Empire, like the assassin. I think that conflict is really going to ramp up as we move towards a potential Clone Rebellion. And it's not going to be pretty.

My favorite part of this episode by far was Admiral Rampart. I like how the episode emphasized that, despite his posturing, Rampart was fairly low on the Imperial pecking order. He's getting ordered around by Mas Amedda, and in the end Palpatine sacrifices him just to get a bill passed. I was grinning so hard during that scene. Rampart got betrayed and torn down by the very system he perpetuated. The way he started yelling about how he was only following orders was SO good, and so realistic. Not so good to be on the other side of it, huh?

God, Palpatine was just perfect in the second episode. We see in full force just how much of a political mastermind he is. Stuff like THIS is how he was able to manipulate the entire galaxy and become Emperor in the first place. He's such an evil monster, but watching him work his magic to get his way in the end was so awesome. He let everyone play right into his hands without anyone realizing it.

Again, the political commentary in this episode was just excellent. Omega asking why the Clones don't have representation in the senate, everything with Burtoni, Palpatine's machinations. Just perfect. Star Wars politics can be a lot more interesting than people give it credit for.

Speaking of Omega, I liked how she was trying to meditate at the start of the second episode. I've always liked the idea of the Clones adopting aspects of Jedi culture like meditation, so that moment brought a smile to my face. Although I can't help but wonder if that moment was added in just to mess with those of us who thought Omega might be force sensitive...

Echo left the group! I kinda figured something like that would happen, but it still hurts so bad. Especially the way he sprung it on Omega at the last second. Not cool, man. The fact that he's with Rex now makes me even more worried for his survival, since we know where Rex ends up, and Echo isn't there. With the Bad Batch there's always the slim chance that they're hanging around somewhere and we just never got to see them in the Galactic Civil War period, but this makes me really nervous. Still, I'm glad to see him ready to fight for what he believes him. I can't fault him for wanting to fight back against everything that's happening.

All in all, amazing episodes! This sort of thing is The Bad Batch at its peak.

#ask #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #star wars the bad batch #commander cody #tbb crosshair #riyo chuchi #bail organa #tbb admiral rampart #mas amedda #emperor palpatine #tbb omega #tbb echo #captain rex

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heydevo · 2 years ago

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The Mandalorian: Chapter 24 - (S3E8) - Season 3 Finale

Season 3 has been tumultuous to many a Star Wars fan, but exciting for me. I absolutely adored the deeper digging into the massive universe that is Star Wars.

However, did this feel more like a series finale?

Spoilers Ahead:

In one of the shortest episodes in memory (I can check data later, after coffee), this finale felt like everything in the Mandoverse got wrapped up with a nice little bow.

Almost as if to say, “Oh sh*t, we have to address this,” there were plenty of events in this episode that just kind of conveniently happened.

Like when Din comes upon the Gideon clones.

Din easily dispatches them with the push of a button.

Gideon expertly explains that he somehow imbued them with the Force