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soaps-mohawk · 18 days

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 23: Regrets

Summary: Depression: a common mental health condition characterized by a low mood or loss of pleasure or interest in activities for long periods of time.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,940

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, mental illness, depression, very heavy emotionally, angst, Johnny gets his feelings hurt (but only for a moment), angst, everyone is having big emotions, Bella Swan-esque sad montage, angst, kissing, slight suggestive content, angst

A/N: Did I completely rewrite part of this during the editing process? Yes. Are you going to thank me for that? Also yes. I'm trying something a bit different with this chapter, so let me know what you think. It probably won't be a regular thing, but I just thought I'd give it a test and this chapter was the perfect time to do that.

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They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.

They’re right. There’s a hole in your chest, an empty void. The squeaking of your shoes on the tiles sounds far away as you numbly walk back towards your room.

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks cautiously as you pause in front of your door long enough to turn the handle.

You turn to look up at him, his brows pinched and his eyes shining with concern. “He's gone.” Your voice cracks and shakes, breaking over the words like you're speaking the finality of the situation.

You are.

“I know.” Johnny reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your arm. “I wish there had been more warning, but this is usually how his solo assignments go.”

You swallow thickly. “He'll come back, right?”

Johnny grimaces. “Ye know I can't promise that. But, there's no one quite as capable in the field as him, except maybe Price.” Johnny squeezes your arm gently. “He’s been doing this for a long time, kitten. Have faith in that, and his skills.”

Johnny’s words do nothing to help the turmoil inside you, the fear and anxiety. One split second mistake, one wrong decision and you know it could be over. Everything could be over before it even started. Why didn’t you confront him sooner? Why didn’t you pick up on his true feelings, his emotions as quickly as he seemed to decipher yours? It’s not fair that they can be taken from you so easily and so quickly. There’s no room for argument, no room for any begging or pleading for them to stay. They have a job, and they’ll always choose that job over you.

“Ye gonna be alright?” Johnny asks, letting his hand fall from your arm as you push open your door, entering your room before closing it in immediately, clicking the lock into place. You lean against the door for a moment, biting your lip to try and stop the tears as you begin to shiver from the dampness of your clothes.

You leave your shoes in a pile next to the door before you pad silently to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes once you hit the tile. You’re shivering, a cold chill starting to seep into your very bones as you start the tub, letting it fill with water. The tears blur your vision, dripping into the steaming water as you sink into the bath. You can’t stop the tears as you sit there, not caring how hot the water is, not caring how it makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. You’ll take the pain, the discomfort. Anything to ease the pain that’s ripping your chest wide open.

It hurts, he won’t lie, when you close the door in his face. Well, it wasn’t entirely in his face. He was a foot away from the door, but it still causes a little ache in his chest, a little upset in his mind that you just cut him off like that. The click of the lock is like a finality, the gavel falling on your decision to distance yourself for now.

The rejection of his offer for comfort has his beta stirring uncomfortably in his mind. Tears fill his own eyes as he stares at the handle of your door, wishing he could reach out and grab it, fling it open and take you into his arms and hold you until you stop crying, until the pain of Simon’s sudden absence goes away.

“Come on.” John says quietly, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Give her some time.”

He lets John lead him away from your door and back towards the rec room. He shouldn’t be so hurt by your abrupt dismissal. You were quite obviously upset, upset enough to run out into the rain after Simon. He saw you race out the door, his stomach clenching in worry, but thankfully the rain had forced most inside. There was little threat to you, not with Simon there, but he had been worried you might not be able to catch him, that you might run blindly into the rain to try and find him.

He had spotted the tears trailing down your cheeks as you walked back to the barracks, mixing with the rain that soaked straight through you. He’s used to his alpha having to leave suddenly, the distance and the worry are second nature now thanks to their jobs, their lifestyles. You’ve never been through this before with him, though, and so soon after the two of you were finally beginning to give in. It’s like a curse. They begin to get close to you, and then suddenly they’re ripped away.

He almost feels guilty, like he’s responsible for your pain. If he hadn’t forced it, if he hadn’t put you both in that position, maybe you wouldn’t be so upset. He couldn’t have known, though, that Simon would be called away like that. It could happen at any time, they all know that. They always have to be ready, always have to be prepared to be called out. Even on leave they can’t guarantee there won’t be an emergency. It’s just the nature of their job.

It wouldn’t have bothered any of them before you.

“She didn't take it well, did she?” Kyle says as John guides Johnny to sit on the couch next to him.

“Christ, she's so upset.” Johnny says, leaning his head in his hands. “If I hadnae pushed them, then this wouldn't have happened.”

“You couldn't have known this was going to happen.” Kyle says, squishing Johnny between him and John to try and comfort the upset beta.

“We didn't even know until a couple of hours ago.” John says, draping his arm across the back of the couch.

“If she's this upset at one of us leaving...how upset was she when we all left?” Johnny says, his stomach churning at the thought. No wonder you were so shaken when they came back.

“The best thing we can do right now is leave her alone and let her do what she needs to do.” John says, pulling Johnny so he's resting against his chest. “She'll come out when she's ready.”

The afternoon comes and goes, the rain slowing to a light drizzle. You still haven’t left your room, sealed inside, secluded from them. Johnny casts the closed door a wistful look every time he walks down the hallway, half tempted to try the knob and see if it’s been unlocked, but he stops himself. The last thing you need is to be scared by someone trying to get in. John is right. You’ll come out when you’re ready.

John knocks on your door as they get ready to head to dinner, waiting a moment for some type of response. “We’re going to dinner, sweetheart.” He says through the door when there’s no answer to his knock. “Do you want us to bring you something?”

There’s a quiet noise from your room, some muffled response to John’s question.

“We’ll be back soon.” John says, somehow able to make out what it is you said. Or maybe his plan was to bring you something regardless of whether you agreed or not.

It feels strange, just the three of them walking to the mess. It’s not the first time they’ve gone just the three of them, but it feels different this time. It’s not Simon’s missing presence that weighs so heavily, it’s yours.

There’s a tenseness that’s settled over them as they sit at the table, avoiding eye contact with each other. Simon’s empty space at the table wouldn’t have felt so much like an empty chasm if you had been there to fill some of it.

They’re not sure what to do, the feeling similar to what they felt upon their return. They knew it would be bad, but they hadn’t expected you to be in shambles like you were. Their pack mate is hurting, their omega is hurting, and there’s nothing they can do. They don’t know what to do. Johnny wants to kick in your door, rush into your room and envelop you in a hug so tight you’ll complain that you can't breathe. He just wants to help you, but that’s not what you want, what you need right now.

He knows it’s his beta instincts, his need to comfort and soothe and support. If Kyle is feeling the same way, which Johnny knows he has to be, he’s hiding it well. Though, perhaps that’s just for his sake and John’s. He can’t even imagine what John is going through, knowing his omega is suffering in such a way.

All because Simon is gone.

How easily one missing piece could tear the pack apart. If something happened to one of them, or god forbid something happened to you, they might not be able to recover. They had always assumed their training would win out, that they could move past it in the way they would had there been nothing but the bonds of camaraderie between them.

How silly that idea had been.

It’s no secret death disrupts pack stability, shakes the bonds that tie a pack together. He remembers how his Grannie’s death had shaken his family for weeks and it had taken months to return to what could be considered normal after a partially expected death of a member of the pack. What kind of damage would an unexpected and sudden death do to a pack?

Johnny shakes the thought from his head. There was always a risk. They all knew that, they all agreed to that when they signed up. He knows Simon is highly skilled, well accustomed to working alone, to completing solo assignments successfully. The risk of something happening was always high, but he trusts Simon and puts faith in his skills.

John goes back through the line once they finish, making a tray for you and piling it high as usual. It always makes him happy to see how well cared for you really are. Despite the circumstances of you being added to their pack, he knows it could have been so much worse. There’s worse packs, worse alphas out there. At least with them, you’re an equal. You’re their precious omega, and they’d make anyone who threatened you regret that decision.

John is surprised the handle turns when he tries it. You’ve gotten up at least, but he’s not surprised to find you back in the same place you’ve likely been all day. He closes the door behind him before moving to your bed, setting the tray of food down on your nightstand. You squint as he flicks the lamp on, reaching up to rub your eyes. The bed dips as he sits on the edge, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

“I know this is hard for you.” He says softly, brushing his fingers across your bare arm. Your skin is warm, likely from being burrowed under the blankets. “I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now.”

“He's gone.” You say quietly, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Just for a while.” He says. “He’ll be back.”

“But you can’t promise that.” You argue, pushing yourself up to sit. Your cheeks are still damp with tears, eyes red and lips still trembling.

“There’s always a risk,” He says softly. “But you have to trust Simon. He’s not going down without a fight.” He sighs quietly as your gaze drops to your hands, your fingers picking at the skin around your fingers. He slips his hand into yours, stopping you from continuing. “What’s eating you?”

“I should have told him.” You sniffle, your eyes on his hand as your fingers close around it. .

“Told him what?” He prods gently, curiously.

“That I love him.” You say, lifting your gaze to look at him. “I should have said it but I didn’t and now what if he doesn’t come back? I love all of you, and I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” The words end in a sob, tears sliding down your cheeks again.

Your words take him by surprise. It’s no secret how they feel about you, how their feelings have grown from curiosity to companionship to attraction and now to love. All of them have come to love you in their own ways, even Simon in his resistance wasn’t immune to his feelings, to their shared feelings towards you.

“Look at me.” He cups your face gently, his thumbs wiping the falling tears. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way, I wish they hadn't picked us to be first for this. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to put you through this. I wouldn't change having you as my omega, but forcing you to live like this, to be left behind with the worry over something none of us can control.” He shakes his head. “It was a selfish decision by those who created the initiative.”

“What...what happens if the initiative fails?” You ask softly.

“We’re not giving you up.” He says, holding your gaze. “We wouldn’t want to, and we wouldn’t let it happen. You’ve been part of this pack since the day you stepped foot on this base. We wouldn’t have let you go then, and we sure as hell won’t now.”

Your breathing is shaky as you stare at him, and he can see the wheels turning in your head, the hesitation as you debate whether you want to speak. He hates that you still feel this way, that you have to hide your thoughts from them out of fear or worry that they might be angered by them. He’s not sure there’s anything you could say that would anger him.

“Would you ever leave for me?” You speak the words slowly, hesitantly, like they might bite you if you're not careful.

He's not expecting it, though he has wondered if you'd ever ask it of them. If it might come to be too much and it leaves you no choice but to ask, to give them the ultimatum. He lets out a breath, all the answers he'd thought up in response gone as he sits face to face with you, as he faces this question out in the open for the first time. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you stare at him, taking his silence as second thoughts, as possible rejection.

“Please be honest with me.” You whisper shakily, a tear slipping down your cheek.

He watches its path as it slides down your cheek, pausing at the line of your jaw before it drips down onto your shirt. He lifts his gaze back to yours, the pain in them stabbing straight into his heart. He wants to say yes, that he'd leave in a heartbeat, give up what he'd worked his whole life to achieve, all for an omega. His omega.

He wouldn't be able to sleep at night, knowing the kind of evils that exist in the world, the kinds of threats that linger in the dark. The evils that may pose a threat to you and his pack. You’ll never be truly safe, not so long as there’s others who know of your existence. Very few of them he’d truly trust with the knowledge that you pose a threat to their efficiency as a team, a weakness that could be exploited.

What bloody fucking fools they were, leaving you alone like that.

“Part of me wants to say no,” He admits honestly, ignoring the flash of pain in your eyes. “But it would depend on the situation. If your life was ever in danger because of us, then without question. If the initiative fails, if we can't adjust, then we may have no other choice.”

“The job comes first.” You say quietly, sounding defeated.

“But there may come a time when it doesn't.” He says, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry about that too much right now.” He brushes a hand over your hair. “If a situation arises, then we'll talk about it further.”

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You lean into him, letting out a quiet breath. He pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I love you too.” He says, his lips brushing the top of your head. “And Simon knows how you feel.”

You shift in his arms, pulling back just slightly to stare up at him. Your brows are pinched as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“Simon is very good at reading people. Their scents, their emotions, their body language. Years of training paired with his own natural abilities.” He smiles softly at you. “He knows how you feel.”

“Oh,” You say, shrinking into yourself.

“He'll likely convince himself it's not true, knowing him and how he thinks. You'll have to tell him to make him believe it.” He pats your leg under the blankets. “Don't worry too much about him. He'll be back before you know it.” He pushes himself up to stand. “Eat your dinner. We'll be around if you need anything.”

“John?” You ask, stopping him before he can leave.

He turns back around to face you. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” You say. “For everything.”

A small smile pulls at his lips. “Of course.”

You're just stepping out of the bathroom when the knock sounds on your door. You had gotten up to rinse your face with cold water, your skin starting to feel tight and itchy after nearly an entire day of uncontrollable tears. You freeze at the sound of knuckles tapping on the wood, your heart leaping into your chest. Is it one of the guys coming to tell you bad news? Has something happened to Simon?

Or is he coming back already?

You’re half scared, half hopeful as you make the short journey across your room to the door. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion as your fingers close around the handle, slowly pulling it open.

Johnny is standing on the other side, his face a mix of worry and sadness. It doesn’t help the despair already starting to manifest in you. Something must have happened to Simon. Something’s gone wrong. He’s not coming back, or they’ll have to leave to help him.

“Ye doin’ alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his brows furrowing as he stares at you.

“Yeah.” You can’t help but wince at the way your voice cracks around the word. You sniffle, wiping at your nose with your sleeve.

“I have somethin’ for ye.” He says, his hands fiddling with the fabric he’s holding. You hadn't noticed it before now. “I was gonnae do Simon’s laundry, but I thought ye might want this.”

It’s one of Simon’s shirts he’s holding out to you, one of the black standard cotton t-shirts he often sports. Your fingers tremble as you take it, bringing the fabric to your nose. You don’t care that it’s dirty, having likely been soaked in sweat at one point. You inhale deeply, nose pressed into the fabric. It smells of soap and deodorant and him. Tears well in your eyes as you take in the scent, almost as if you’re getting it directly from the source.

You’re moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around Johnny’s middle. He seems almost surprised by your action, his body tensing for a second before it relaxes, his arms wrapping around you.

“Thank you.” You murmur against his chest, a couple tears slipping from your eyes. You’re so tired of crying, but you can’t stop.

“Yer welcome, kitten.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Ye need anythin’...”

He leaves the other half unsaid, but you know what he means. You’re hesitant to pull away from him, wanting to just stand there and cling to him until Simon returns, but you know he’s busy. Eventually he’ll have to leave you too. You’re not sure you could handle watching him leave your nest, close your door behind him as he’s forced away to do his job.

Your door clicks as you shut it, holding Simon’s shirt to your chest. You’re tempted to wear it, to slip it over your head and bathe yourself in your scent, but you know if you do that, his scent will just fade faster and become overwhelmed by your own. The desire to bury yourself in it is strong, let his scent sink into your body and overwhelm your own.

Your eyes pass over the giant bear sitting in your desk chair before snapping back to look at it. An idea begins to form in your head as you set the shirt on your bed.

You grab the bear, hauling it to your bed and sitting it on the edge. You pull the shirt over its head, stretching the neckline slightly. The shirt is slightly baggy on the bear, but you don’t care as you maneuver it so it’s laying on the bed, trying to picture Simon in its place. It would be a tight squeeze, but then again it always is with any member of your pack. Their bodies don’t leave much space on the narrow mattresses by themselves, much less with you curled up with them. You can’t help the stirring in your chest, the yearning for more space, for a bed big enough to fit all of you at the same time. Big enough for Johnny to starfish himself comfortably, for you to escape the inescapable suffocating heat of their bodies that will build up inevitably.

Tears burn behind your eyes as you crawl onto the mattress, draping yourself across the giant bear. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you press your face into the shirt, pretending it’s Simon you’re laying against. You can almost feel his arms wrap around you, holding onto you like you might disappear if he lets go. You squeeze your arms tighter around the bear, letting Simon’s scent seep into your mind and take away your fear and your worry and your pain for a little while.

It’s two days later when you finally leave your room. You’ve managed to stop the onslaught of tears, calming down enough to exist without being a weepy mess. There’s still an ache in your chest, though, the gaping hole that won’t close. A piece of you is missing, a piece you hadn’t even noticed was there until it was ripped out of you suddenly and violently. Your hug with Johnny had been the first time it had felt less intense, the aching abating just slightly.

They’ve just returned from their afternoon training, earlier than usual meaning they have some downtime before dinner. You can almost tell where he is before you leave your room, following the sounds of the TV. Your steps are slow and quiet, the cold tile biting into your bare feet as you approach the rec room.

He’s seated on the couch, spread out as usual. His eyes flicker to you as you hesitate in the doorway, tugging at the hem of the baggy shirt you’re wearing. You’ve long forgotten whose it is, the name on the tag worn off and all hints of scent erased by the many times you’ve worn and washed it. The thought tugs at the hole in your chest. Eventually Simon’s shirt won’t smell like him anymore, faded and rubbed away by time and your own scent.

“Hi kitten,” He says, breaking the silence between you.

You let out a shaky breath before entering the rec room, approaching him. You can tell he’s expecting you to sit next to him, to curl up against his side by the way he moves his arm, but instead you straddle his lap, all but throwing yourself against his chest. He grunts quietly in surprise, his arm instinctively wrapping around your back. You lay your head on his shoulder, going limp in his hold.

It doesn’t fix the hole, doesn’t remove the ache entirely, but you can feel it start to lessen as you sit there, getting as close to Simon as you possibly can through his beta. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt. He wraps his other arm around you, holding you tightly as his scent begins to project around you. Nothing is said, but nothing has to be. He knows what you need, and he doesn’t even have to use his instincts to figure it out.

A week goes by without a word from Simon or even about him and how he’s doing. You return to your normal routine in a numb, almost dazed state. You follow the rest of your pack around like a lost puppy, going to meals and following them to training when John allows, withdrawing back to your room like a recluse when you can’t. You sit in the rec room with them in the evenings, but you feel far away, distant from them and reality. You stare at the TV, but all you can see are blurry moving shapes. You can’t even read, often finding yourself staring at the cover until the words mesh and blur into something else.

You never thought the distance could feel like this. You almost miss the fear of them all being gone. At least that had made you feel something.

You see Dr. Keller twice as usual, both appointments unproductive as you fight to force some kind of life into yourself to drown out the numbness that’s settled. You’re far away, distracted from everything. Even food tastes different, more mushy and flavorless than usual.

They’re worried about you. Even in your numb state you can tell that. John hovers closer, allowing you to follow them more than he probably should. It’s not like you’re paying much attention to what they’re doing, seated far away from anything that might put you at risk as you stare up at the sky, or off at the trees in the distance. Even when you’re inside, your gaze is far away, never quite focusing on anything.

Johnny and Kyle keep you close as much as they can, squishing you between them on the couch or when you walk to meals. They’re always touching you, holding your hands, brushing your skin, wrapping their arms around you. They’re trying to comfort you, and it works for a little bit, not even your numbness impervious to a beta’s soothing presence. They hold onto you like they’re trying to keep you grounded to the earth, like you might float off and disappear into space if they don’t.

You don’t sleep well, electing to sleep in your room every night. It’s a vast difference to what you had been doing, avoiding your room as much as possible. You’re seeking out the safety of your nest, a comfort only it can provide despite everything that’s happened. You feel bad for pushing them away, keeping them at a distance, but at the same time, you don’t care.

You just want Simon back.

“I’m worried.”

“I know. I’m surprised you didn’t come here sooner.”

He feels strange, sitting in Dr. Keller’s office alone. It’s not the first time he’s been here, spoken to her about you. After their return from their first assignment, he had sat with Dr. Keller and gone over everything that had happened during their absence, or at least as much as she could tell him. Anything you talked about was considered confidential, but at least she could tell him if there were any issues or incidents.

“She’s depressed.” Dr. Keller answers before he can even ask. “It’s not uncommon for omegas to become depressed after separation. Even when there’s necessary splitting of a pack into a satellite, there’s a risk for all omegas to develop depression because of it.”

He should have known. He’s seen it happen to soldiers, when the blood staining their hands grows to be too much and they begin to recluse in their own bodies, becoming empty shells of who they were before. You’ve become a shell, a body simply existing out of necessity.

“What can we do?” He asks, unable to keep the mask up, to hide his concern and fear.

“Not much more than you have been.” She says. “Keep supporting her, reminding her that you’re there. There’s an adjustment when a bond begins to weaken. Omegas are especially susceptible to it, and with how strongly connected and aware of her instincts and emotions she is, it’s going to affect her more.” Dr. Keller sighs, leaning her arms on her desk. “I don’t think anyone has ever taught her how to balance or even use those purebred instincts. Institutes are supposed to, but from what we know, they teach subservience over anything.”

John shifts in his seat. Of course no one would have cultivated those abilities. It would have made you too aware, made the risk of you being able to manipulate them too high. Your job was to serve them above all else, so why would those teaching you want to give you that ability? Those instincts would have made you a perfect omega, able to pick up on the slightest changes, the needs of your pack. Yet, if you became too aware of your own abilities, it would give you too much power over them. That’s the one thing institutes don’t want...an omega that knows how powerful they are.

“How do we teach her?” He asks.

“I can help her with balancing those instincts and emotions, but only someone who knows can really teach her how to be successful at using them.”

��Simon.” He says, the pieces beginning to come together.

“If he didn’t know how before, his military training would have cultivated those instincts. That’s why purebreds are so sought after by militaries. Of course, it’s a bit different for alphas and omegas, but you are two sides of the same coin.” Dr. Keller smiles. “She’s smart. She’ll begin to figure it out on her own once she’s aware she can do it. In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing. If there’s some way she can talk to him or get in contact with him, that may help alleviate some of the depression.”

He knows it won’t be likely, but if it will help you, he’s willing to take that risk. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He stands outside your door, staring at the knob. It’s late, his eyes burning from exhaustion. He’s stressed, not just from the day to day stressors of his job, but your obvious pain and discomfort has been affecting him. It’s affecting all of them. Kyle and Johnny’s times on the course have slowed, their aim is off, and he knows they’re not sleeping well either.

Even with you beginning to return to your normal routine, your distance from them has proven to affect them more than your presence. Even with you around them, your numbed, absent state has disrupted their abilities to function, to exist as a normal pack. He’s relayed the sudden change to Kate in an attempt to prove his decision not to leave you alone is the right one, and it will help his case should they decide to try and separate you from the pack.

He can’t think of a reason why they would now. The bonds are too strong. The separation of just one of them has proven to disrupt the bonds between all five of you. He can only imagine how Simon is feeling, being apart from everyone. It’s never bothered him before, but that had been before your presence. If Simon was incapable of fulfilling his duties and performing the task he had been assigned, they would have forced him out of the field and sent him back by now.

Perhaps your fears were right and Simon isn’t as in love as John thought he was.

He shakes the thought from his head. He’s seen the way Simon looks at you, the obvious change in his demeanor since your trip to town, the changes that have happened in your demeanor around him. Simon cares for you deeply, more than just as an alpha in your pack.

He tries the handle of your door, surprised again when it opens. He might have thought you’d start locking it at night again with how much you’ve regressed. Maybe this was your silent plea for help, for comfort, for something other than the emptiness inside you. He slips into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light of your nightlight in the corner. He can’t see you except for your arm tossed around the giant bear. It’s wearing a black shirt, likely the one Johnny had given you. It was a good decision, offering you at least an extension of the missing alpha.

He approaches the bed quietly, not wanting to startle you. He doesn’t want to climb over you either, but he knows moving the bear will wake you. Perhaps you’re exhausted and sleeping hard enough he won’t disturb you.

He picks the lesser of two evils, lifting the bear. He curses silently when your body shoots up as soon as the bear slips from your grasp.

“No!” You shout, almost like an angry child having their toy taken away. It’s a desperate sound, a shocking one, ringing loud in the silence. You’re reaching for the bear, trying to tug it from his hands.

“Easy, easy.” He says, putting his hand on your arm, your movements slowing to a stop as his touch brings back to reality. “I’m just moving him.” He shifts the bear to your other side, your body rolling to follow it.

He climbs into the bed, barely managing to fit on the mattress. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you and the bear, but he’ll manage it. He’s slept in tighter places. He slips an arm under you, the other reaching across you to settle on the bear.

“Tight squeeze with the three of us.” He says quietly, trying to ease some of the tension.

“Need bigger beds.” You murmur, voice slightly muffled from where your face is pressed against the bear.

He chuckles quietly. “I won’t argue with that. Perhaps someday.”

You shift slightly at his words, obviously not expecting him to continue your conversation from earlier this week. He normally tried to avoid thinking too far into the future. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something he might never get to have. Or, at least he used to feel that way.

Things have changed.

“I used to think this job would be all I did.” He continues, speaking almost to himself. “I’d never grow old enough to retire. Someday I’d die in the field and that was good enough for me. Then, of course, things changed. Had those three other muppets to worry about.” He slips his arm from the bear to wrap around your stomach. “Then another little muppet got added. Now I’m thinking about a nice little cottage by the sea, big enough for five, with a nice flower garden in the front. Just a short walk to the beach, where we can sit and watch the sun set.”

“White picket fence dreams.” You say quietly.

“Or at least the British equivalent of that.” He says, a smile tugging at his lips.

You shift slightly in his arms, pressing back against his chest as you turn as far as you can. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” He says, his thumb gently rubbing your stomach through your shirt. “Things have changed. Priorities have shifted, and not just for me.”

He presses his forehead against the side of your head, breathing in the soft scent of your strawberry body wash and the new vanilla scented shampoo Johnny had gotten you. There’s a faint hint of leather beneath your scent, the smell rubbing off from Simon’s shirt you dressed the bear in. He can almost imagine Simon in place of the bear, both of their arms tangling around you as they surround you and keep you safe from the outside world. Just a moment of peace in the hectic violence and chaos of their lives.

“John?” You say quietly, pulling him from the edge of sleep that had settled in his mind.

He hums quietly in response, forcing himself back to consciousness again.

There’s a moment’s pause, a second of silence, and for a moment he wonders if you’re going to speak at all. “Don’t let go.” You finally say, your voice quiet and broken in the silence.

“Never.” He says, tightening his hold around you.

John's phone ringing drags you from the light sleep you had managed to slip into. It hasn't been long since you drifted off you think, but then again, it's hard to tell. It's still dark out, and you're still in the same position. John lets go of you to reach for his phone on your nightstand barely managing to grab it at the awkward angle he’s at.

His voice is rough with sleep as he answers. “Hello?”

It's quiet for a moment. You can't hear much aside from a male voice on the other side. You can't tell who it is or what they're saying.

“Good to hear.” He says, slipping into the Captain again.

Something stirs in your stomach as you try to listen, try to catch who it is. Just one word, just one hint.

“I'm sure.” There’s another pause, this one feeling like a lifetime. “I have someone here next to me that would like to talk to you too.”

You nearly elbow John in the stomach in your frantic attempt to turn over. You yank the offered phone from his hand as you lean the top half of your body on his stomach. “Hello?” Your voice wavers as you say it, the emotions beginning to stir within you again.

There's a second delay before you hear it. “Hello, love.”

You nearly cry at finally hearing his voice again, the pet name causing a fluttering in your stomach. You've never heard him call you that before. “I missed you.” You finally say, managing to get the words out.

“That's what I'm hearing.” He says, and you can imagine the lifting of his cheeks under the mask, the slight crinkle of his eyes as he smiles.

“When will you be back?” You ask.

“Soon. Won't be much longer.” He says.

“Be careful.” You say, your breathing shaky. “You better not come back hurt.” You're not sure you could handle it if he came back on a stretcher, or even with a single bandaid.

“Yes ma'am.” He says seriously, but you can hear the humor in his tone. “I'll try my best.”

“Good.” You say, wanting to lay there, to listen to him breathing for a while, just so that you know he’s really there, he’s really alright. You know you can’t though, your fingers shaking as you pass the phone back to John.

He speaks to Simon for a couple more minutes while you lay across his stomach, listening to the rumble of his voice in your ear. Relief is flooding through you after hearing Simon's voice. He's really alright, he's fine, he's coming home.

“You alright, sweetheart?” John asks after hanging up, his hand coming to rest on your back.

A thousand words want to come out of your mouth, but you can't get them up past the lump in your throat. “He called me love.” You finally say, replaying the pet name over and over in your head.

“Did he?” John asks, and you can picture the way his lips turn up in a smile.

“He's never called me that before.” You say.

“Well then I'm sure he meant it.” John says.

You sure hope so.

It's a week later when you get to stand on the tarmac again, waiting for a plane to land. It's early, the sky clear and the sun just starting to rise over the trees, casting everything in a golden light. It’s so vastly different from how the world had looked when he left, the weather seeming to convey your inner feelings. The rain and darkness a perfect symbol of the dread and pain of him leaving. Now that he’s returning the sun is out and the sky is clear, conveying your relief. You’re beginning to feel again, the ache in your chest beginning to lessen. It’s the most alive you’ve felt since he left.

You're in a dress today, the yellow sundress that Johnny had bought you. You wonder if he’d done it on purpose, perhaps knowing something you don’t. Despite the sun rising, there’s still a chill in the air, and you had quickly stolen his sweatshirt to cover your bare shoulders.

You squeeze John's hand as the plane comes in to land, watching it approach in eager anticipation. You're going to hug him tightly, throw your arms around him and refuse to let go until you have no choice. You're going to give him the greeting he deserved weeks ago when they all came back.

He's like a magnet, halfway down the ramp when you start approaching, moving without even thinking. He's in his full mask, the one with the half skull sewed to it. He looks dangerous and deadly, the true visage of a Ghost, but you approach without fear, without hesitation. Underneath all of it you know there’s Simon, the man you’ve quickly fallen in love with.

You're ready to hug him, to feel him again, to wrap yourself around him like you could sink right into his body.

You're not prepared for what he does next.

One of his hands reaches up, the fabric of his gloves rough on your skin as he grips your chin, his thumb on one side, digging into your jaw, the other four fingers on the other side holding your head still. His other hand pulls his mask up over his mouth, giving you a glimpse of his stubble and chapped lips.

You don't get to look long as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours.

It's like time freezes as he kisses you, your skin erupting in goosebumps, and it's not from the cold air. You weren't expecting this, your brain trying to catch up, to process that this is really happening, that this is real.

He tilts your head to the side, deepening the kiss as he leans closer into you. Your hands reach up, closing around the sleeves of his jacket. He's real, he's really here, and he's kissing you.

The moment likely doesn't last more than 30 seconds, but it feels like forever as his lips move against yours. It might be cliche to say fireworks are going off, but that may have just been the engines of the plane shutting down.

He finally pulls away from you, his hand still gripping your jaw. You could melt into a puddle right there, his eyes speaking volumes of what's going on in his head. He's done a lot of thinking in his time away. You wonder how many thoughts you've shared over the last two weeks.

“Should have done that before I left.” He says, his voice rough, but just as you remember.

Tears prick behind your eyes as you stare up at him. His fingers are digging into your jaw, but you don’t care. He’s here, he’s back, he’s safe, and he just kissed you like you’d wanted to before he left.

“I wish you had.” You say, as he slowly releases your jaw, his hand brushing your throat before it drops to his side. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your arms around him, holding onto him tightly.

“What are you doing?” He says, taking you back all those weeks ago to when you hugged him the first time. There’s no confusion in his tone now though, instead there’s an amused lilt to it.

“Giving you the hug you deserve so you don't get mad at me.” You say, your voice slightly muffled from your face being squished against his chest.

“You think I'd get mad about not getting a hug after kissing you?” He asks, patting your back.

“Just making sure.” You say, his chuckle reverberating in your ear.

You don’t release him as he begins to walk to where the others are, keeping your arms wrapped around him tightly. He greets the others, Johnny squishing you between them as he hugs his alpha. You don't care as Ghost's armor digs into your body, it's just a reminder that this is real. He's really here. This isn’t a dream.

He's really back.

You sit between Simon and Johnny in the back seat of the car. It's a tight squeeze between the two, but you don't care one bit. Johnny's hand rests on your thigh as John drives back to the barracks. Perhaps you’re still reeling a bit from the kiss, or perhaps it’s Simon’s scent, but you want to push Johnny’s hand higher, hike up your dress and hope Simon gets a peek at what's waiting underneath. You won’t though. You want him to be comfortable. You want your first moments of intimacy to be just the two of you, something special.

Dread begins to fill you again as the car rolls to a stop outside the barracks. You know what to expect now, having gone through it once before. He’s not truly back, he still has to leave you again. At least this time, you have the others.

“I'll see you soon.” Simon says, squeezing your arm.

“Hurry back?” You stare up at him.

“As fast as I can.” He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You're tempted to kiss him again, but you don't want to push his boundaries. Sure, he had kissed you, but it could have been a fluke, a one time thing born out of desire and time spent apart.

You won't care if he never kisses you again. At least you know what it feels like.

Thankfully he makes the decision for you as he turns his body slightly towards you, as much as he can in the tight space. He lifts the bottom of his mask, leaning down to kiss you again. You purr against his lips, your scent exploding in the car like a smoke bomb.

Johnny lets out an extensive curse as he fumbles for the door handle, forcing it open in an attempt to escape the sudden onslaught. Kyle is quick to follow, allowing more air in to disperse the intensity of your scent in the confined space. John rolls his window down, lighting a cigar, trying to do anything to keep your scent from going straight to his head.

You feel giddy and almost proud as Simon places one last soft peck against your lips. You don’t want to let him go, but you know you have to. He’s not quite yours yet. He still has more of his job to do before then.

Always the job first.

Your lips are still tingling as you walk into the barracks, your heart still fluttering in your chest. Johnny is staring at you, almost walking sideways. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your face warming.

“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. He’s wearing that stupid, smug grin on his face again.

“Been a long time since I've seen him like that” He says, squeezing your arm gently. “Not since his first romp with Kyle.”

You turn to look at the other beta behind you who simply shrugs. “What can I say? No one's immune to my charm.” He gives you a dazzling smile. He’s not wrong, his smile causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

“Cannae wait to see him glowin’ after his first taste of our sweet omega.” Johnny says, backing you against the wall.

“Yeah, well, you might be waiting forever for that.” You say, stopping his approach with a hand on his chest.

He tilts his head at you, his brows furrowing. “What do ye mean, kitten?”

“I'm not even sure he's going to want that, much less if he'll do it.” You shrug. The thought has been going through your mind despite the kiss in the car. Though he’s kissed you twice, that’s a big leap to make, a leap you might never make.

Johnny snorts at your response. “Kitten, he's been holdin’ himself back for weeks. He's just worried he may...be too much for ye.”

You give Johnny a look. “I can handle you, can't I?”

Johnny grins. “Aye, but this is...different. He's not gonnae make the first move. If ye want it,” He leans in closer. “Yer gonnae have to do it yourself.”

“Well,” You slip under his arm, nearly making him faceplant on the wall. “Then I best save my stamina for him, then.”

Kyle laughs, patting Johnny's back. “Set yourself up for that one, mate.”

You peel off Johnny's sweatshirt, adjusting the top of your dress before tossing his sweatshirt to him. “I'll see you both later.” You give them a smirk before turning on your toes, heading back to your room.

Johnny curses quietly behind you, and you just know his eyes are glued to your ass.

Johnny’s words replay over and over in your head as you go through your day as usual. Simon had returned to the barracks, going straight to his room to shower. You had been tempted to step into the hallway, to wait for him, but you know he’s not free yet. He still has paperwork to do, which you know from experience that could take a long time.

Thankfully, that gives you plenty of time to think about what you’re going to do. You're going to have to make the first move, but what if you move too fast? How do you even broach the subject?

“Hey Simon, welcome back. Would you like to rearrange my guts?”

“I cried the whole time you were gone, would you like to make me cry for a different reason?”

“Bend me over and fuck me like a real alpha.”

You facepalm at your own thoughts. You could just slowly initiate it. Start with touches, getting closer, more kisses. Leave yourself open to him in hopes he gets the message, that he pushes past that boundary and finally fucks you like he wants to.

Heat blooms in your stomach, sinking between your legs. You're all worked up and he’s only kissed you twice. Johnny’s words don’t help the fantasies in your mind. He’s scared you won’t be able to handle him. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. He’s a big man. You know, you’ve felt it before. It’s hard not to, with some of the positions he’s put you in during your training, nothing but those grey sweatpants and his underwear as a barrier.

You wonder how he'll do it. Bend you over so you won't see his face? Keep the mask on and put you on your back so you can hold eye contact with him? Or will he finally take the mask off, finally let you see his face?

You assume the others have seen it, so when will it be your turn?

It’s not until after dinner when you hear footsteps down the hall. Johnny had gotten food for Simon who was still deep in his paperwork when you left for the mess. Despite his absence at the table still, it had felt less gaping, less like a black hole threatening to suck you all in. He’s back, he’s here. Soon he’ll fill that empty space again.

You try to stop yourself from running out of your room when the steps get closer. You’re not even sure it’s him. You don’t want to disappoint the others if you leave your room so excitedly in the hopes that they’re Simon. So instead, you stay seated on the edge of your bed, staring at your unlocked door. You want him to open it, to step into your room, but you know he won’t. He’s never been in your room. The furthest he’s entered is your doorway.

You’ll have to make the first move.

Your stomach nearly leaps out of your body as the boots stop in front of your door. You hold your breath in anticipation, too scared to move, too scared to throw open the door and risk your excitement being too much. You might push him away in your eagerness, but you’re not sure you can hide it much longer. You’d let him bend you over with the door open, hell, you’d let him take you in the hallway.

One step at a time. One step at a time.

You repeat it over and over in your head as you push yourself off your bed, moving to the door. He’s not going to knock, he’s going to wait for you to open it, for you to remove that barrier between you. He’s giving you the chance to change your mind, to go back, to call the two kisses enough and draw the line where you want it.

The doorknob is cold in your sweaty hand as you grasp it, turning it slowly. The gavel is falling, the slow opening of the door marks the finality, the crumbling of the final barrier. There’s no going back. The bond is too strong, the line has been removed completely.

You stare up at Simon as the door swings as far as it will open. His eye black is gone, washed off in the shower revealing the pale skin underneath. He smells good, cleaner than he had on the tarmac. You can smell it despite the space between you. Under the smell of his generic soap you can pick up his natural scent. Leather and eucalyptus and the musk of alpha. You want to drown yourself in it, rub it all over your skin until your own scent is gone.

“Hi.” You say, goosebumps forming across your skin from the intensity of his gaze. You’d forgotten how sharp it is, how easily he can peel away your layers as he stares at you.

“Hi.” He says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. You’d forgotten how deep it really is, the roughness around the edges harsher than usual, but you expected that. They had all been a bit hoarse after returning from their group deployment.

You continue to stare at him, lost in his earthy gaze. The hole in your chest has lessened to almost nothing, slowly the bond repairing itself just from the knowledge he's here, he’s standing in front of you. He’s real.

You clear your throat, smoothing your hands over your dress. His eyes drop, following the movement. “I thought you'd want to rest.” It's the first thing you can think of to say, speechless in his presence. He must be tired.

“I slept on the plane.” He shrugs.

“Yeah, but surely a real bed is a relief.” You say. You’d half expected him to retreat to his room, seeking out a comfortable bed. They’re not all that comfortable, but compared to what he probably was sleeping on these last couple weeks, it must feel like heaven.

“Probably is.” He says, his gaze shifting back to your face.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at him. You’re testing the waters, pushing into new territory as the last walls of the barrier crumble around you. “You could go rest.” You say, shifting on your feet, giving him the option to turn away, to change his mind. “I’m sure you missed your bed.”

He’s still as a statue as he looms in your doorway, his frame filling it easily, making you feel small. “I'd rather relax in yours.”

Your face warms at his words, not expecting him to say that. The warmth pooling in your stomach intensifies, your heart fluttering in your chest. You’re not sure what happened during his assignment, what caused such a drastic change. You want to know what went through his head, what he was thinking about. Did he picture you at night when he got a moment to rest? Was he imagining you there with him, curled up against him? Or was he picturing you in other positions?

You might never know, just another secret hidden between you.

A shudder runs through him. You can see it, the slight twitch in his body, his hands closing into fists. He’s responding to you, to your scent. Such power you could hold over him if you were brave enough to try.

Such power he could hold over you, if he wanted to.

“You could come in.” You say, taking half a step back in invitation.

He doesn’t move, still frozen there like a statue. You wonder how he stays so still, but that was probably part of his training. Be as steady as possible while shooting, how to be invisible even in broad daylight. “You're sure?” He finally rumbles out, his foot shifting just a centimeter, but you catch it.

You shrug. “Why not? You are part of this pack. You could have entered sooner, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t have minded.”

He hesitates for just a second before moving his foot from the tile and into your room. He pauses there for a moment, watching you, waiting for a reaction. It’s your turn to stay still, staring up at him as he makes the slow transition into your room, venturing into your sacred space, a place he’s never been in before.

He moves the other foot, taking the first step over that line, pushing himself past that barrier, leaving it crumbling behind him.

There’s no going back.

Something shifts inside you as he enters your room, a weight you hadn’t even realized was there lifting off your shoulders. The hole in your chest is gone, the missing piece back in place. All the tumultuous emotions, all the stress and the fear and the anguish is gone. Your room is safe again, complete again with him in it. Tears prick at your eyes as relief floods through you. No one is getting in, no one can get in now, not with him here. You want to hug him, to kiss him again, drag him onto the bed and make him hold you for a while.

You don’t. You stay still as he takes in your space, his eyes scanning your belongings and your decorations. He’s never truly seen it in the light. The only time he’d stared into it was that morning when you thought maybe someone had broken in, when your fear had fucked with your emotions enough to think they’d truly let someone enter without their knowledge.

How silly that thought had been.

His eyes move to your bed, landing on the giant bear wearing his black shirt. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at it as well, suddenly thinking you should have removed the shirt, shoving it into your laundry and moving the bear back to your desk. Yet, you want him to see it, want him to see that you tried to comfort yourself in his absence, tried to make a placeholder for him. You won’t need it now, though. Not with the real thing standing in your space.

He shakes his head as he stares at it, rolling his eyes as he lets out a sigh. “Fucking hell.”

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics

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bigassmoonchild · 10 months

Text

Simons Rut

Simon bullied his cock back into you, knot starting to inflate. He groaned, having stuffed you full of three other loads, grunts and groans becoming all you could hear.

His head fell on your shoulder, chest pressing into your back and whines coming from your mouth with the overstimulation. He nipped at your neck, sucking your scent into his throat to coat his tongue. A moan ripped from his neck, eyes rolling back into his head.

You could feel his cock sliding against your g-spot, sending spasms of pleasure through your gut. Biting your gland and remarking you, his knot started catching on you as he slid in and out.

Whines were coming from his throat, his mind lost in the thoughts of breed, mate, fuck a pup into Omega, and you couldn't move from under him, mouth open and drool slipping down your chin.

Your cunt spasmed around him, his knot finally catching you and he pumped his hips shortly. Hips pressing back into him and grinding on him, your own eyes rolling back with the pleasure as you kept spasming around Simons cock.

"Good little Omega, milking me, going to fuck pups into you, need you to be full of me," he growled into your ear, his mouth dropping open as his orgasm finally spread through him, dropping to his elbows and further caging you onto the bed.

Simon stayed like that for a moment, his nose rubbing along your neck as he filled his head with your scent, almost growing drunk on it. When he finally came to, he pushed his weight off of you and slowly moved the two of you over, letting you sit on his lap.

He ran his hands down your sides, your head falling on his shoulder and nudging at his own scent gland, licking at it to fill his scent in your own mouth.

Massaging at your thighs, you felt yourself relaxing around him, eyes falling shut from the exhaustion of cumming so many times around him.

Some time later, Simon was pulling you off of him and allowing you to come back to the present while carrying you into the bathroom, starting the tub after setting you on the counter.

You'd tugged Simon in the tub with you as he'd tried to set you in there and leave. Him joining you caused some water to splash around the sides, but you got to work washing his hair as he held you in his lap.

During his ruts, he was rougher than normal but became the sweetest Alpha, happy when his Omega was more than satisfied before his next wave came through him and had him bending you over the sink to watch yourself get fucked.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #smut #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #no use of y/n #simon riley #call of duty #task force 141 #drabble #rut #cod mw2 #call of duty x reader #ghost mw2 #modern warfare ii #To hold y'all over until the next parts of Maple Syrup you can have this little drabble of Simon in rut #I can expand further if y'all want

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multific · 3 months

Text

Scent

Alpha!Simon Riley x Omega!Reader

Warning: non-explicit smut.

Summary: Building nests was part of the process of an Omega going into heat. However you never actually thought you would find yourself locked away in a house with your Lieutenant.

To say that the mission has gone to shit would be an understatement.

They were hunting you down and if it wasn't for Ghost, you would be dead by now.

If it wasn't for him and his sharp reflexes you would be lying with a bullet in your skull.

But you weren't.

Instead, you were in a much worse situation.

At the start of your mission, you took your suppressants, figuring you would be back the next day, you didn't even pack any, so now, you were here, on an uncomfortable mattress, trying to make it homey for your heat.

You never actually minded going into heat. You could just lock your door, fill your room with food and be good for a couple of days.

But this was a very different situation.

You were in a bunker-like building, hiding for survival with an Alpha who was also your Lieutenant.

Not a situation you wanted to be in.

"You need to rest, I will keep watch." he avoided you, and didn't even come close to you, he just stopped at the door, never entering the room. He did put food down for you on the floor every day, commenting when you didn't eat something.

He was kind.

You knew he could smell your heat coming up, Alphas always did.

You know the upcoming days will be as much of a torture for him, as it will be for you.

You were glad it was Ghost with you, at least he had control over his alpha.

Before you could reply, he already left. Going as far away from you as possible. Yet, your smell still lingered.

Sure, Simon had control over his alpha, but the temptation was too great. You were perfect. In every aspect of the word. The perfect woman, partner, and omega.

At first, Simon thought you had no place in the army, he thought Price had gone insane but you proved him wrong.

Your kindness wasn't your weakness, instead your strength.

Simon took a deep breath, his mind and body immediately filled up with your scent, and how sweet you smelled. Simon, out of frustration, hit the wall, making the brick crumble.

He knew he should be there with you, help you, and yet, he was forcing himself away from you.

Even if everything inside him was screaming for him to go to you, help you, feed you, and keep you safe and comfortable.

He knew he can't.

The next day he brought you another plate of food.

"Ghost..." your voice came out way too desperate. "Can I have your shirt, please? The smell of the... pillows are..." Simon didn't need to be asked twice. He handed you his sweatshirt in a swift movement. "Thank you." he watched as you cuddled up with his clothes and he couldn't help but wish it was him. He forced himself to stand up and leave.

His scent really did help ease your pain as your heat reached its high.

Your mind is filled with all the different lewd things.

And yet, somehow, even with a hazy mind, even with a fog before your eyes, deep down, you knew better than to act upon those images filling your mind.

But you didn't know how to keep your scent at bay, not like there was a method or something.

And it caused quite an interesting reaction with Simon.

While you were locked in a room, touching yourself to the thought of an Alpha, he kept stroking his cock to the scent and thought of you.

You both knew it was forbidden, but no one was around, no one could hear your thoughts and your moans.

And for now, it was enough.

---

Thankfully, your heat soon ended, Simon got used to your smell as it slowly weakened.

You started to grow stronger, and back to normal, but it will take you a couple of days to be fully back in action.

Simon knew this.

"How are you feeling?" he asked from the doorway, while you lay on the mattress on the floor.

"Your smell disappeared," you said with a pout as you looked at him.

"I will give you my shirt then, let's exchange." he said as he held out his shirt for you to take, you gave him the sweatshirt back.

His shirt smelled like you now.

"We will have to leave in a few days, we have been here for almost a week now. We cannot stay, they will find us."

"I will be good to go tomorrow. I'm still a bit hazy though," you said and Simon nodded.

"How can I help more?"

"You have done plenty, Simon." use never used his name before, it was always Lieutenant or Ghost, nothing more, nothing less.

You kept it professional. Until now.

"I will bring you more food for dinner, so you can have your strength back."

"Thank you, Alpha." you whispered the last part, but he heard you.

God, he heard you very well. As the door closed behind him, he just stood there, too stunned to move. Everything in him screamed to go inside and to claim you.

But he couldn't. He shouldn't.

And yet, he did.

He turned right back, opened the door and for the first time in four days, he stepped inside, closing the door behind himself.

He looked at you as you lay with his shirt pressed into your face, smelling it.

He knelt down beside you, taking deep breaths to remember your scent.

You opened your eyes and smiled at him.

"Took you long enough." you said as you moved to turn around and leave some space behind yourself.

"Shut it." he whispered before he moved to lay down with you in your nest, holding you close with his nose in your hair. "Omega." he said and it made you humm. "You smell so good." he took a deep breath and you smiled to yourself, not opening your eyes.

You put your hand on his which held you close by your stomach.

"You could have been here for my heat."

"I wouldn't have been able to control myself."

"Of course, you would have. You are Simon Riley... What made you realize that I wanted you here all along?"

"Your smell had a hint of sadness every day. But when I came into the room... you smelled like hope and..."

"Love." you finished for him. "Am I truly that obvious?"

"The smell of an Omega never lies to an Alpha."

"You are right, I'm a lot happier as well."

"Same."

"I wish we didn't have to leave."

"Same." he breathed out one last time before you fell asleep in his arms.

Building nests was part of the process of an Omega going into heat.

And Simon never failed to notice that you made yours bigger, to give room to him.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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rennorthernlights · 6 months

Text

Breaking You In

Ghost X Reader/OC——————————————————————————————

Brief Summary: Hiding your identity as an Omega is nothing new but hiding it in an Elite Taskforce is harder than you thought.

Your callsign is Mustang due to your stubbornness and the “Fuck You” attitude that you tend to embody. You take your heat-blocking pills religiously until they don’t come in anymore.

Just what you need… The beginning of Pre-heat is starting to show and your losing your mind with how annoying the Lieutenant is being.

(There’s no description of what Mustang looks like. I just wanted to name her that.)

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MINORS DNI+18 AND UP ONLY Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Non-Con to Dub-Con, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Aggressive Behavior, Aggressive Sex, Spanking, Dom/Sub, Forced Submission, Overstimulation, Ghost Ain’t A Good Guy In This But He’s Hot, Forced Bonding, Forced Mating, Semi-Public Sex, Semi-Clothed Sex, Breeding Kink, Ghost Tryna Be A Dad And Daddy, Choking, Hands On Throat, Tell Me If I Missed Any

MINORS DNI+18 AND UP ONLY

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The world has a love for Alphas in the military, they’re stronger and aggressive, good for the firefights and the bullets. Dominant and steelier compared to the Betas. Many of the Alphas tend to hold the higher positions in the military just due to their second nature alone. Leading most of the military fields save for the Betas that manage to keep up with them. Even the elite Taskforces are no different due to them being chalk full of Alphas and a handful of Betas. Only the best of the best is needed after all.

Omegas on the other hand… now that’s a different story. Most Omegas that choose to work have more of the “Less-Stressful” jobs. At least that’s what the unspoken rule is supposed to be. Some old-fashioned Alphas and even Betas would say that a good Omega is an Omega with their legs spread for a knot and filled with pups. Made to only raise the young and be good for their better mates. Depending on who you talk to it’s practically looked down upon if an Omega has a job.

Docile. Sweet. Easy.

That is what the world expects of Omegas. At least that’s what THEIR world expects. When you first presented as an Omega at the young age at 12 years old you refused to stay seated. Not surprising since your moms an Alpha and your dads a Beta, if anything they were more surprised that their daughter turned out to be an Omega.

“Just keep your head down.” Is what your mother would say to you over and over again. Snapping at you when you started doing things an Alpha or Beta would do. Their own views on how to train up an Omega became demeaning and suffocating. Even going so far that when you turned 18 years old your mother set you up with an old Alpha suitor.

With no foreseeable way out and your future hanging by tiny threads you did the only thing you could think of. Something drastic and life changing that could take you far away from your parents and that would-be suitor.

You signed up for the military.

18 years old and you dived headfirst into it. Inhaling nearly every heat-blocking pill on the market to hide what you are. Going against the rules and forging your documents. It’s amazing that you haven’t been caught but as long as you keep taking the pills there’s not much to worry about. Besides your CO’s would’ve blamed you if you caused the alphas to go into a rut if you chose to keep your heats. So what if you have to take some experimental pills? It keeps you safe and keeps you far away from your parents and the old Alpha your parents wanted you to mate.

Now, that was 5 years ago. 5 years of putting blood, sweat and tears into your military career. 23 years old and you gained the nickname “Mustang” for being far too stubborn and forward for your own good. Having an argumentative streak with your CO’s and calling them out for shitty plays on the battlefield. It’s no wonder that when the Captain of the 141 read over your file that he immediately requested for you to join. Seeing the potential in you and fire in your eyes reminded him of his Beta, Gaz.

At first you thought it was a joke, a jest that he’d want someone with only 5 years of experience, at least until you realized that he was dead serious in his inquiry. The Alpha Captain became deadset on taking you under his wing to help mold you into something better.

Upon meeting the team, you got along like dry leaves in a fire when you met Gaz, a kind and ever-patient Beta Sergeant. Nearly had your minds meld together when meeting Soap, the demolition Sergeant, and in time he told you with complete trust that he’s an Omega. The 141 treat him normally and as if he’s not just his nature was very eye opening to say the least, to see a fellow Omega be treated so well nearly made you come clean. But you digress, you trust them with your life but not something like this.

You got along well, building up lifelong bonds all except for the Lieutenant… he’s as Soap likes to call him. “A spooky bastard.” Hard and tough around the edges, as prickly as a cactus and even more of a hardass when it comes to drills.

Though it’s to be expected especially from the way he’s always in a corner, brooding with hardly a tell of an emotion with that skull mask of his on. Doesn’t help that he’s always quick to spot your mistakes. Every single mistake. Quicker to growl a sneer when you butt heads. Though you hate to begrudgingly admit that you’ve learned more under his watchful eyes. Amber brown eyes that always seem to be on you the second you’re in sight.

Though it’s been like that for months; you’ve had an easy rhythm with the Sergeants and you fall right into step with the Alpha Captain but for some reason. You and the Lieutenant? It’s like the two of you can’t see eye to eye. Doesn’t help that he’s been constantly hovering over you, being an unwanted guardian as he wards off the other Betas and Alphas. His scent always around you and sometimes on you much much to the increasingly teasing Sergeants. An almost knowing look in Soaps eyes when he smelled Ghost on you… again.

Your clothes somehow carry his scent like as if he’s rolling around in it. You swear that if it wasn’t for the pills you take you would’ve gone into heat a couple months ago. It’s annoying that the Lieutenant, the bane of your existence, gets his scent on you. Wards off the guys and ladies that you used to have one-night stands with. The soldiers fearing the wrath from a man who isn’t even your mate and you hate that he’s fucking with your ability to get laid these past couple months.

It reaches a boiling point when the Captain is put on a month-long bedrest, no longer able to play mediator between the two of you. Hell, even the Sergeants have a hard time breaking up the yelling matches you both have.

“Have some fucking respect.”

“Maybe try earning it.” You growl back, postering at him like an Alpha would. The other soldiers already leaving the breakroom to not have to deal with whatevers going on between the two of you.

The latest argument you’re having is over something useless that you can’t be bothered to remember. All you know is that he said something that’s pissing you off. Doesn’t help that the latest request for your heat-blocking pills haven’t been cleared just yet. You told Price in confidence a couple months back about what your second nature is, course you got an earful, but he swore he’d keep it to his grave. Normally he’s is quick to have them sent in but since he’s been on bedrest the paperwork has just been sitting in his office desk drawer collecting dust. You’ve already been off it for a week, swallowing your immense pride, you had sent in the request to a higher up that Price trusts but for some reason they never come in.

Your body is going through the drawbacks. That scent of yours has been jumping from sour to sweet throughout the days making your hormones shoot up dangerously. Hindbrain starting to encourage your pre-heat to flush out the remaining toxins of the pills. Any other team and you’d be scared but due to how well Soap is treated, you’re not too worried. So far no one has called you an Omega or even tried to imply what you are, and you would prefer to keep it like that.

The Lieutenant scoffs at your audacity pulling you from your thoughts as you shake your head of them. “I think I’ve earned plenty of your respect since I’ve saved your hide more times than I can count,” dark amber eyes narrowed as he stares down at you. “Omega.” Smelling out your second nature and it makes you freeze up. Your hands balling into tight fists as you fight the instinct of running away. A whisper in your ear that you should just stop antagonizing him but no. No, you press on.

Standing up straighter and if your glare could deepen any more then it would. “Don’t call me that, Ghost.” Distain towards him as your scent spikes up in a sweetening anger. Pre-heat befuddling your mind as you nearly bared your throat when he called you by your nature.

“What should I call you then, Mustang?” Taking a large whiff of the room. His eyes darkening, “You smell like an Omega.” Taking a step forward and you feel more acutely aware of how it’s really just you and him in the breakroom. “Smell just like one in pre-heat too.”

He lunges forward. “Hey! What are you—?!” An alarm goes off in your head to get away as he moves far too quickly for you to scramble and evade him, large hands grabbing and shoving you against the wall. “Let go!” You yell and throw your fist forward that he easily catches. Gripping hard and snatching your other hand to force them over your head. His thigh sliding hard between your legs as you breath in sharply. “You fucking basta-“ thick fingers shove into your mouth, you gag and cough at the sudden intrusion. Eyes watering in response and you see the blatant amusement in his eyes. Anger riling up so you bite down on the fingers forcing him to yank them out.

Guess he didn’t like that as grabs your neck with the same bitten fingers. “Feisty little Omega.” Squeezing your throat causing you to gasp as his grip hardens until you start to see spots. “No wonder you’ve been acting the way you’ve been. Heat coming up now that you ain’t downing those pills. Just need an Alpha to put you in your place, yeah?” The muscles in his thigh tense as grinds it against your core. Releasing just enough pressure from your neck that makes you gasp and gulp for air. If your brain worked faster you would’ve caught on to the fact that he knows you take pills.

“F-Fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” brown eyes rolling, “Always such a mouth on you.” Moving his hand down your throat, ghosting over the mounds of your breast till he cups one through your shirt and squeezes. “Maybe a knot will make you easier to work with. Make you nice and pliant. When’s the last time you’ve been fucked anyways?” A grin under his mask as he knows exactly how long it’s been for you.

Your heart beating wildly as your teeth nearly stab into your lip to bite back a moan. His thumb pressing on the nub of your nipple through your bra and shirt. “No smart mouth, no snippy remark? Guess I finally shut you up.” Smirking under his mask as he spots the table in the breakroom before looking back at you like as if he’s been given the most amazing idea. His hand moving to the back of your neck and forcing you to move.

Jerking around and fighting uselessly as he bends you over the table stomach down. Hiking your ass up to present even as you try an squirm away. Almost successful in your attempt until a hard smack resounds in the room. Eyes bulging wide as he pulls his hand back and does it again. “Ah!” Screaming out as he smacks your ass with purpose. His hand on the base of your neck keeping you face down as you squeal and pant.

A meek, defiant growl from you as he responds with another harsh smack. “Behave, Mustang. Be glad I’m not making you count them.” Tears pricking your eyes as they shut tight, having mentally lost count of it ten slaps ago.

Tears falling down your face wetting the table as you half expect another smack and yet he cups your burning ass, your pants have done nothing to shelter your cheeks as you felt every sting of the assault. “There we go.” Gasping quietly when his large fingers grasp and fondle to soothe the ache, “Already bein sweet for me.” Taking a lungful of your enticingly sweet smell, “Can smell your slick,” he states downright devilishly as you tense. Your ass stiffening while your thighs shift tightly together, your body betraying you as you hate how right he is.

Tutting disapprovingly and reaching his hand around and dipping inside your pants right when you start to protest weakly. Sliding a gloved finger harshly against your soaked panties. “Soakin my glove.” Cupping your soaked cunt as it seeps into his glove. “Naughty, naughty Omega.” Purring against your ear making you wail louder. You’d try to escape if he wasn’t pressing his whole weight down on you. Kicking your feet apart with his boot and thrusting forward, canting his strong hips against the flush of your clothed ass. Something impossibly hard pressing and rubbing against your bottom that makes your eyes roll back as his fingers graze harder on your panties in time with his thrust.

“S-Shit.. ah s-stop! Please,” you beg as it’s too much, you haven’t been sexual with anyone in a while. Especially with your hormones out of whack, his scent smells stronger, dominating and thickening in the room. Invading your nostrils, intoxicating and encouraging more wetness out of your disloyal cunt. The sensitive walls clench when he presses a finger inside, your hole clenching around the cotton, the fabric of your panties rubs against your throbbing clit. You can’t stop the moans that fall from your lips even if you wanted to.

A coil starting to curl within you. “No, no, no, ah!” Your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues humping more aggressively. Grinding and circling his hips against yours, the table creaking under you as his strong body keeps you under him. Trapped and forced to just take it as the pleasure he’s giving you is mixing up the signals in your brain.

You don’t even realize his hand on your neck has left in favor of shucking his mask up, latching his hot mouth against the glands on your neck. Teeth grazing on the sensitive gland as the heat of his mouth sends shocks through your body. “This what you needed, pretty girl?” Whining in response when he removes his hand from inside your pants. His glove soaked with your juices. “S’why you’ve been such a brat. Had to keep pushin and pushin me till I had to do somethin about your problem.”

“N-no I-“ breath hitching as he bites on your throat, sucking harshly as you can’t find the words to speak coherently. Small mercy that he didn’t bite down too hard on the mating gland, merely sucking bruises on it. A grin etching into the skin of your sensitive throat. His tongue lapping and circling as he feels you shake and mewl under him. Having a harder time to not give into your baser needs. Body betraying you as you buck back in time with his canting hips as your hands move and fist near your face.

Finally letting up as he leans back, you breathe so hard as you look behind you through half-lidded eyes. Sweat beading around your forehead causing your hair to stick to your skin. His hands working fast to unbuckle his belt and pants. Pulling them down past his thighs and his boxers following suit. Eyes widening as you see his large thick cock already leaking pre. The flare of his knot making him seem much thicker. Cock slapping against his stomach and you know that a knot like his won’t fit. Blood pumping faster as you fear you can’t take that size in you.

Watchful molten eyes noticing how you try to shift away from him. A thick hand landing forcibly on your back to keep you still as he works on undoing your pants. Pulling them down as you stutter and beg for him not to. “No, no, no, darling. Gotta give you my knot.” Panties falling down, the ever increasing shame burns on your face as your slick slides down. “See? You want it. Need it from the looks of it.” Arms shaking and you try to hit behind you as he just laughs cruelly. Grabbing both of the flailing arms and pinning them against your back with one hand.

Your thighs instinctively try to close but he’s having none of it. Forcing your legs apart with another kick of his boot. A firm grip on your hip before sliding it under a bit to make you lift your reddened ass up. Slotting the meat of his cock through your glistening, fluttering folds. Sliding in between over and over, slowly teasing your engorged clit with the head of his thick tip.

“So fuckin wet for me. Haven’t even fucked you yet and you're pouring on my cock.” Moaning embarrassing louder as he inches the tip into your tightening hole.

A forceful push, heading deeper inside as you plead for him to pull out, to stop what he’s doing but he doesn’t hear you. Too lost in the feeling of your warm, tight cunt squeezing so nicely around him. Even with the gush of your wetness easing a bit of the stretch, it still burns. Ghost is by far the thickest you’ve ever taken. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried all the way to the hilt. “Fuck!” He murmurs lowly while his eyes shut just as yours do from the feeling of being so full.

Pussy gripping him hard, “Relax for me.” Grunting hard as he circles his hips. The hand under your hip lifts you a bit more as your mouth parts to suck in air. “You can take it. That’s a good girl.”

Hardly giving you the time to adjust as he pulls back, his tip not escaping your heat before slamming back in. Whimpering due to the electrifying shot of pain and pleasure, “P-Please, it.. it ah hurts!” Ghost murmurs something rough as tears begin to prick your eyes. His hand moves from your hip and instead of stopping his thrusts, he circles a finger around your wanting clit. Your eyes opening wide as more slick starts coming out more. Easing his large cock in you as your body starts to take him better.

“That’s it, that’s a good little slut,” slamming his hips fast as his fingers work a slow torturous pace on your bundle of nerves. “Doin so good for me Omega. Clench ‘round me baby.” Heavy balls slapping with each harsh thrust. His mouth latching against your glands, muddling your brain further as your Omega nature preens in response of being taken by this strong alpha. “Knew you’d be perfect for me. Just had to stop the pills from coming in.” His damning words not heard as he keeps up his brutal pleasuring pace. The smell of the heady sex permeate the breakroom, filthy sounds of wet slaps of thigh against thigh only enthralls your Omega nature more.

Becoming pliant as you moan and keen high in pleasure, mouth hanging open as the tip of his cock bullies into your tight cunt, making a home inside your gummy walls. His grunts and dirty words sinning against your ear as he growls about how you’re his now. That you’ll never escape him. A possessiveness scent seeping into the room as you babble useless words. His fingers, nearly forgotten due to the mind-numbing pace of his burrowing cock, start to move faster and press harder against your clit. Sliding his finger side to side just as fast as the hard smack of his balls intensifies the pleasure tenfold. “Cum for me, Omega. Wanna— agh,” grunting deeply behind you, “Wanna feel it.”

Your traitorous body gives in when he angles his hips and slams against that spot that makes you scream. Stars blurring your vision as you cum, squeezing and milking his cock as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. The tightening walls suck him back into your greedy pussy. “Gonna breed you good.” A heavy-laden promise as his eyes darkens with dangerous lust. His upper body hunching over as he presses his forehead against the side of yours as you plead for more. His hand moving from your pinned arms, placing his elbow beside your head to give himself more leverage as pistons his hips faster.

Hammering into your pussy as the wood of the table screams from the exertion and scraps against the floor. Your words bouncing against the walls, “Pl-Please, please, please!” Begging for it now. Begging for more, for his cum and his knot. Too lost in the pleasure to really understand what you’re saying. “Alpha, Alpha please!” Crying out as it’s too much and yet not enough. Overwhelming animal instinct to be bred by your strong Alpha. Arching your hips in time to feel him growl loudly, the vibrations tingling up and down your spine.

“I’m going to, Omega, I’m going to.” pulling back suddenly before slamming back into you full force with his damning vow. “I’m gonna breed you till you can’t take it.”

Pulling back out and forcibly turning you around, back now on the hard surface of the table. He looks downright predatory as he licks his lips. Yanking the rest of your pants and panties off, ripping them off even with you wearing your boots in wanton abandon, discarding them out of sight and out of mind.

His hands grabbing your ankles and placing them over his shoulders. Your boots scraping the skin of his flesh be he could give less of a fuck right now. Maneuvering your knees against your chest to fuck you deeper, feeling deliciously constricted since his body is blocking out everything from your sight. Everything but him.

“Gonna give you my knot. Make you mine in every way.” The newer position makes him feel even larger inside you. Pounding into you as your moans sound heavenly to his ears. Pressing more of his weight into you, caging you in as if his only thought is to fuck into your fertile womb. An animalistic need in his eyes as he gives into his own nature to claim the Omega under him. “You want it? Want my knot? Beg for it.”

“Want it! Want it s-so bad! Please, Alpha!” Wasting no time as you work hard to form the words. Jumbling and spilling over it but you don’t stop in your mindless pleading. Your pleading flipping a switch in him as he no longer cares about the consequences. He’ll deal with them later because right now all he wants to do is fill your pretty pussy till it overflows.

Surging forward, his teeth bites down harshly against your mating gland. Mine. Mine. Mine! Eyes rolling back to your skull as you cum faster and harder. The build up of the dam inside the both of you breaking as the swell of his knot starts to catch. Teeth digging into your neck as he intends to make the binding claim as deep as he can. Tears springing out your eyes as your legs shake in the tidal wave of pain and pleasure.

“Mine.” Growling aggressively in affirmation as he moves away from your throat and kisses you roughly, “Mine.” Mouthing the word against your swelling lips that can’t keep up with him. His hips stuttering as his muscles clench, the need for him to cum approaching faster. Balls tightening up as he forces home his thick knot inside your sensitive walls. “Mine!” His forehead falls against yours as he roars out that soul-claiming word. Hot spurts of cum filling your greedy and welcoming womb. His knot expanding wide and locking you to him for now.

“G-Gho— mph!“ his lips dominating against yours, shutting you up as he grinds his knot while his balls empties the rest of his thick seed in you. Moans being swallowed by the other in response. Tongues wrestlings as he takes hold of your boot and eases it off his shoulder. The other following suit as he wraps them loosely around his waist. Your mewls being swallowed by the hungry kiss that he gives you, possessive and devouring as he doesn’t let up. Moving his mouth down, trailing kisses and nips gently against your chin and then to your throat where the mating mark is on your neck. His permanent mark on you.

Chest against chest as you both pant heavily. The clothes worn sticking almost uncomfortably due to the sweatiness of each other. His warm tongue lapping lovingly against the mark he made before he finally leans back. His knot still keeping the both of you connected as it won’t deflate for a bit longer. The smell of the intense coupling is sure to deter anyone from even getting within 30 feet of the breakroom. Not that he’d ever let anyone see you like this. Not his pretty little mate. No, no, no, this sight is for him and him only.

Drinking in the vision of you, mellowed out and soft on the hard table. Hair spread around you like a halo, tired eyes shutting to a close, mouth open and panting. The bulge in your stomach scratches at the delicious size difference between the two of you. His cock twitches from inside you as he wonders how you’ll take him if he took your plump ass. Though an animalistic instinct demands that he not waste his seed, preferring to keep his Omega filled with his warm seed. Snug and protected safely in your precious womb.

“Ghost,” your words softer than he’s ever heard it, eyes opening as you shiver from the shift in his touching, his scent smells more welcoming. More warmth, like firewood on a cold night and the bourbon that he likes. The rare gentleness throwing you off a bit as he rocks his hips forward. A low hiss from your mouth as you’re far too sensitive and yet a slow build of pleasure starts to grow as your overstimulated pussy clenches in response. Your head turning up with a needy whine.

His lips pull back into a wolfish smile. Needy Omega he muses to himself. His Omega. “Simon.” Stating his name and he places a large warm hand over the bulge of your stomach. A primal instinct lighting up at the thought of the seed catching on the first try. Imagining you round with his pups is a black hole that he’ll gladly fall into. He didn’t mean to bite you, didn’t mean to claim you but what’s done is done.

He just wanted to fuck and get rid of his obsession over you but if he did this all over again he wouldn’t stop himself. He’d gladly bite you over and over again.

“Call me Simon.” Your breath hitching as he says his name firmly, commanding you to him by a name he rarely gives out. “Want you to say my name from now on.” His knot starting to deflate. “After all,” He may not have meant to bite you but that doesn’t mean he won’t uphold it. You’re his now. He won’t let go of you no matter how much you’ll kick and scream once your senses finally come to and the high of pleasure fades. Slowly pulling out as his potent cum spills out. Your head scrunches up, sighing pathetically from the loss of his cock.

“You’re mine now.”

His hand sliding between your shaking legs that still wrap loosely around his waist. Scooping up the cum that tries to escape, to go where it shouldn’t. A rumble in his chest, his second nature demanding to keep his Omega filled and sated. His fingers push it back in eliciting a sharp gasp. He can’t help but grin at how sensitive you are.

He leans close and as he uses his fingers as a plug. “Now be a good little mate and keep’em safe. Gotta make do on my promise to breed you after all.” His cock already starting to harden, his stamina has always been the best and he’s never broken a promise.

Ever.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #alpha simon riley #Possessive Simon Ghost Riley #cod smut #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha/beta/omega verse #Alpha/Omega #Your smart mouth lands you in trouble #non con #non con to dub con #READ THE TAGS #minors dni #breeding k1nk #kn0tting

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diejager · 1 month

Note

Hello this would be the very first time id make a request if you still take them. Omegaverse taskforce 141 with an isekai reader who could pass as a bèta with a twist, if you heard about the pheromone perfume then yeah. Reader as a beta but snells like an omega🙂

🐼anon

Cw: pheromone perfume, omegaverse, spy, inaccurate facts, tell me if I missed any.

For something you’d once thought fictional, an imaginary creation to spend one’s time on and lose themselves when they wanted to escape the hardships of their world, it was scarily realistic. You were a fan, someone who’d followed the franchises from it’s earliest days to the most recent - and unsightingly disappointing - installment of a remake of a remastered version of a game you played as a kid. You’d even dreamed of it being a reality, living the lives and adventures besides the men and women in Modern Warfare and even Ghosts and Black Ops despite knowing that their universe was a mirror of your own, simply built and reconstructed differently than the one you were born in.

It was a fantasy, even your strange interest in works tagged with omegaverse. To see a big man like Ghost shudder and kneel for another, to see Gaz being tenderly dominating and affectionate, to see Price reluctantly soft and grumpy, and to see Soap teasingly sly and mischievously headstrong. Sometimes, they would draw one as an omega and the other as an alpha, or as an beta and alpha couple. It was a whole roller coaster of emotions and intrigue, but a fantasy all the same.

And yet… and yet, here you were, in a body that was and wasn’t your own. It was a carbon copy of yours, but you weren’t you in it, like wearing a mask or another’s skin. That’s how you felt, especially with the scars that painted your skin like a stray sky and tense muscles that felt too hard to be fake. Perhaps it was the sudden sensitivity of your nose, the cloying in your mind and annoyance that suddenly filled you. Or perhaps it was the clean and elegant clothes you wore, a harsh dichotomy to the dark gear the others beside you wore, vests and padded body suits, weapons latched to their hips, chests, thighs and even in their hands, and the hard and cold gleam in their eyes, hidden under the darkness of the vehicle you rode.

Any confusion you once had was washed away when time seemed to stall, the world blurring as clear and loud words were spoken in your mind. Instructions, you understood, guidance towards your goal and advice to complete it. It was a ball, you were sent to conclude a transaction under… Kate Laswell’s order, a favour you had agreed to do for her as someone who worked in intelligence and assasinations rather than brawn and breaches. She’d called you a silent killer, neither a mercenary nor an employee, you were a panther in stalk, an owl in flight, deathly silent and tenaciously lethal.

It seemed like an out-of-body experience. You were somehow a spectator to your body, and somehow the master of it. Every act was practiced, ever word spoken with a charming smile and every smile particularly persuasive. It was so simple —so easy. With their emotions flashing in your face through smell alone, your nose twitching at the scent of arousal and pleasure, the flattered and the excited. They were so - too - easy to read and control, to have them curled around your finger like fine silk. You chalked their attraction towards you to your charms and the smell that clung to your skin, a sweetness that made both men and women turn their heads to gaze at you for a lick f your scent. Pheromones. An omega’s pheromones mixed with sweet perfume.

It helped, truly, making your work vastly easier than you’d once thought. It eased the nerve and anxiety that brewed inside of you, having done nothing but speak out loud the words that popped in your head and act out the motions that were advised to you. Your brain - mind or conscience - was a machine, a computer giving out orders and guiding you through this without any trouble. That, you were thankful for, you would have been a mess of tears and panic if not for it. It made you work quick and efficient.

And you were out within the hour, striding across the street and down the corner, walking as if you weren’t in a hurry or on a mission, nothing better than hiding in plain sight —the best of hiding spots. Within the minutes, down a few streets, turning left and right, walking circles to make sure you weren’t followed, you crossed the threshold of a textile shop, nodding at the lady working at the counter and headed to the back rooms, the employees only rooms. There, you met four men huddled around a table with Laswell at the head, all familiar figures you once fantasied about.

“An omega?” Price sounded much deeper in person, his done low and somehow soft despite the rasp that smoking caused.

“Beta,” you corrected, your name following as a greeting, a beast greeting another beast, head bowed in respect and acknowledgment that they returned.

“You don’t smell it.”

It was curt and to the point, nothing you hadn’t expected from Ghost.

“Pheromone perfume,” you grinned, patting your pocket, “Neat trick, hmm?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

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crunchyroaches27 · 3 months

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”You’re safe, pet.” | TF 141 x omega!reader

OKAYYY BEAR WITH ME! I just released a pt2 of the ghoap post I made but I could not help but write this one. It’s fluff and angst and the same time.

omega!reader is rescued from a Omega trafficking ring by TF141

BACKGROUND INFO

everyone has lil tails and ears (🥺) + Omegaverse AU + they/them pronouns used; Gender neutral + Alphas have pointed canines for marking

there are more characters, like Alejandro but he doesn’t play too much of a major role. He doesn’t deserve to be here

Price is the pack leader. He is an Alpha— the most dominant out of his other mates. His word is absolute law. He likes to regularly scent his pack, it makes him feel reassured that his pack is safe. Price is essentially their cigarette-smoking dad

Ghost is next in line in this chain of command, he is also an Alpha. He is more impulsive than the others and often has to have many restraints, leading to him often being aloof and angsty. Soap likes Ghost, but Ghost is too fucking slow

Gaz is third in line, also an Alpha like the ones before him. He is cool and collected, yet he also is a bit of a rebel— here and there he will challenge Price’s authority and be snarky

And finally, Soap. Poor Soap is at the bottom, being a Beta. Despite not being an Omega, he still carries out monotonous tasks. As the “peacemaker” of his pack, he ensures that all is well between them. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a jackass sometimes. His body scent is fainter, but his scenting abilities are better than the rest bc he is a Beta

In this cruel world made up of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, there is bound to be danger lurking in every dark alley, every shady nightclub. Over the course of three days, you had seen and felt things you thought would never end. You were used and passed along like a joint. One particular Alpha paid a good fortune for you, and you found yourself dressed in skimpy clothes and drugged with aphrodisiacs. Your pheromones leaked like a pipe. There’s no hope. Why even bother? you thought angstily as you were transported to a new location.

You’d heard of the tragic trafficking of Omegas, but you didn’t expect to experience it firsthand. Omegas have to know every tactic to defend themselves. Your ears drooped in disgust and a sort of disbelief as your body began to enter some sort of stupor; the drugs meant to make you extremely docile and languid were starting to kick in. The sudden sensation of a sharp turn and the screech of wheels snapped you out from your haze. Instead of hearing the usual excited chatter, you heard gunshots. You were too lethargic to even move, so you passed out in your seat. When you awoke, four men surrounded you; three Alphas and one Beta.

You found yourself on a small cot. Three Alphas and one Beta were sniffing your pheromones to deduce your mental, physical, and emotional state. “Aye, Omega’s ‘woken up,” the Beta with the warhawk mumbled. The bearded Alpha hummed. “Hmm. Let’s start with introductions. What’s your name, Omega?” Another Alpha, clad in a skull mask, trilled, seemingly pleased at your arousal (arousal as in the waking up sense!!). “You’re safe, pet. We don’t bite, at least, not unless you want us to.” He jibed with a British lilt once he sensed your fear. His dark-skinned pack mate snorted, rolling his eyes. You could smell he was an Alpha, too.

All of their ears were perked high in expectation, their eyes watching your every move, sniffing every pheromone released into the already stuffy air. “Y/N,” your response made them nod in acknowledgment. “Mm, ‘Kay. We already knew that. Jus’ wanted to see if we got the right person.” The bearded Alpha sighed before continuing. “Well, I’m Price. This ‘ere is Ghost, Gaz on my right, and Soap’s the one in front of ya.” Soap promptly bent down and twinkled at you, his tail wagging. You didn’t even have to ask for their ranks, you could smell it in the bodily fragrances they released— that applied for them too. You could tell that Price, Ghost and Gaz were all Alphas, while Soap was a Beta.

You wondered how they weren't dying to breed you, your pheromones were uncapped and flowing out into the air freely. They must be taking some kick ass suppressors, you surmised. You were, for the lack of better words, glad they weren’t groping your body ravenously. Yet, despite their composed demeanors, glints of wolfish desires were expressed through their eyes. Their tails were rigid and raised.

“We saved you from that trafficking ring— shouldn’t you be more grateful?” Ghost earned himself an elbow pinch from Price. Ghost lowered his ears and grumbled as Gaz snickered. “Omega’s pumped full of drugs. Damnit, they’re barely alive,” Price grunted, his brows knitted— not in regards to Ghost— but at your deplorable condition. “Don’t expect much yet.”

“Soap, call in exfil, we need to go back to base. We need to get this Omega treated.” At Price’s order, Soap’s ears flicked and he soon got to work. “Don’t worry, Omega,” Price murmured, his thick fingers tracing circles on your sunken-in cheeks. He practically melted at the sigh you soughed. “You’re safe, pet.”

One half of you loved his touch, the Omega side that constantly craved the touch and comfort of an Alpha; the other half wanted to flinch back and snarl at it. You’d been touched, and not in a nice way— you didn’t want to bear that again. Yet because Price’s touch was refreshingly compassionate, the former side won.

At the hospital

When you arrived at the base, you were stirred awake by a splitting headache, an after effect of the narcotics. Your vision was bleary but you could tell that you were in an infirmary— and that you were not alone, either.

Ghost and Soap were seated on the chairs adjacent to your little mattress. Their tails were curled curled together as they waited for your awakening. When you finally announced it by clearing your throat, both of their ears shot up in attention and whipped their heads around to face you.

Soap was the first one to detach from the tail-curling and walk towards you, a gentle concern painted onto his face. “Ye feelin’ any better, Omega?” He chuckled at your reply, a tired no. His hands neared to replace the tape covering your scent glands, but then he stopped, seemingly remembering his manners. “Mind if I change ‘em? Not gonna try anything slick,” Soap asked, his icy blue eyes warming themselves for you.

“No,” you croaked. Slowly, he started to strip the tape off, clean your gland, and patch a new piece of tape on. Obviously, your scent had been carried in the air, exciting both Soap and Ghost. You knew Soap had a better nose than the rest. Soap’s pupils had dilated, making you a bit uneasy, “not gonna try anythin’,” he assured you again, smelling your distrust.

“Where’s Price and Gaz?” You questioned, hoping you remembered the name of the two Alphas right. “They’re in Mexico. With a friend; they should be back soon.” Ghost replied, rising to his feet to join Soap. They both assessed you with such focused attention— especially Ghost— making you feel like a piece of meat again. Your ears pinned themselves against your head.

Ghost’s inhaled deeply through his mouth, his breath trembling. He leaned closer towards you, his head tilting to try and whiff up any of your heady pheromones that still lingered in the air from the tape-replacing. Ghost's ears were angled towards you.

Ghost realized what he was doing and promptly gave you your space, as if to prove his salaciousness was kept under control. Or maybe he did it as an apology. "Sorry, just, you smell nice."

Soap hummed in what could be expressed as skepticism.

"Well, I think we should leave 'em to their own devices." Soap said, giving your hand a quick squeeze. He ordered for a glass of water to be delivered to your room before he left with his packmate.

You were left alone with your thoughts. You realized how much of a windfall this was. Out of hundreds of millions, you were saved. You had quite possibly the aid of God by your side. What an occurrence.

Sorry. Didn't really know how to end it, but pt2 will come out fs 😚

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thisreputable · 7 months

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halp alpha!soap getting bitched by alpha!ghost. soap who's cocksure and arrogant and convinced no other alpha can take him on until ghost comes along and proves him wrong with impunity. soap who's left whimpering and sniveling and hanging off of ghost's knot over and over until the change takes. until he's slicking up and presenting and begging to be bred by ghost. send oxygen h e lp m e

#ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod #call of duty #into the wips folder #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics

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omegapropaganda · 12 days

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🚨🚨🚨

Burnt Honey

poly141 x M!Omega!Reader

omegaverse

"You have been a member of Shadow Company and Phillip Graves' omega for years suffering at his hand until you meet the members of Task Force 141. They help you learn to love again while you help them destroy Shadow Company from the bottom up."

Story will follow the plot of MW:II (some dialogue lifted from the game, but this is a mostly original retelling of the events)

John "Soap" MacTavish/Reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick/Reader, John Price (Call of Duty)/Reader, John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick/John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley/Gary "Roach" Sanderson (past), Phillip Graves (Call of Duty)/Reader (toxic)

be very aware of the tags and read them thoroughly. Major trigger warnings for graphic descriptions of male on male non-con/rape, manipulation, degradation (not the fun kind), and general abusive toxic sexual relations. These are not romanticized and very much harm Reader.

please take care of yourself if you are sensitive to these issues and still decide to proceed with reading this fic. I will not be held responsible for your actions after you read these warnings, okay?

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queenhunter102 · 5 months

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PART 4

(PART 3) (PART 5) Lore Page

You walk around the barracks, nosing around the beds, you decide to choose a bed, you sit down on one of the beds, laying back, but you shift restless, finding the small cot rather uncomfortable, you sit up eyeing the other beds, before getting up and pushing a bed from the left and the right together creating a larger makeshift bed. You lay back down, on the now larger bed, hating the feeling of the metal bars digging into your back, you sit back up walk over to the supply cupboard, pull out a blanket and more pillows, you walk back over to the makeshift bed, you fix the bed making it slightly more comfortable. ‘Why did I transfer out of the country? I could be at home in my goddamn comfortable bed and not this shithole.’ You think as you lay back down on the bed, you lift your arm eyeing the Pheromone patch on your arm, you sniff at the glue, it had been itchy for the last few days, but that is what it was always like when it had been checked but, this was a different kind of itchy, this was deep in the skin, it was hitting your instinct to use your teeth. You were about to use your teeth to scratch the itch when a knock came at the door of the barracks, you got up and walked over to the door, you pulled open the door to find two Alpha at the door, both of them strapped with your bags, one smiles at you, giving you a small wave. “Hey, Newbie, I’m Gaz and this is Alejandro” Alejandro waves at you, a brief smile on his face, Gaz speaks again. “Sargent said to bring you, your stuff, and it’s all kind of heavy” He says, motioning to the bags on their shoulders, you panic a little before stepping out of the way and letting them in. “Sorry I should have said something about it,” You say, as you move out of the door, letting them in, Gaz is quick to step into the door, he looks around the space, you assume sniffing the room you eye him, your instincts not liking the fact that there was an odd and new male in your space. You rolled your shoulders trying to dislodge that feeling, when the feeling didn’t go, you cracked your neck trying to get rid of the feeling, but when Alejandro stepped into the room, your instincts kicked in again, really not liking it, you jump a little hearing a deep growl vibrate around the room, your eyes snapping to the two Alphas but their eyes were on you, their eyebrows raised. “Sorry, we don’t mean to upset you, Sargent did say that you were territorial” Alejandro said, as he placed his half of your bags into one of the cots, you nodded your head, you weren’t usually like this, you were just unsettled and were surrounded by nothing but alphas and betas, with no security of other omegas to retreat to. “Yeah, Sorry, I’m just not used to males in my space,” You say, Gaze nods his head, placing half of the bags down. “Yeah, he did mention it, But I thought he was only kidding, I should know better since my Brother is an Omega” Gaz says, sighing he tilts his head at the makeshift bed behind you, he smiles, elbowing Alejandro, nodding to the bed. “I take it you’re not used to being so far from home?” Gaz asks, you turn your head to bed and back to the Alphas, now suddenly embarrassed. “No, not really, I’m used to being in a five-star hotel and having nice meals,” You say, Gaze and Alejandro's jaws drop a little. “Damn, we’re in the wrong job,” Alejandro says, his face shifting to a look of confusion. “Wait what did you do before us?” He asks you are about to answer when their walkie-talkies go off. ~ Crackle~ “Gaz, Alejandro briefing, alert new member” came from their walkie-talkies, the voice made your ears hurt, forcing you to cover them, hating how it felt like the voice radiated around the room. Gaz looked between you and Alejandro. “Well you heard, time to get a move on, we’ll show you the briefing room”

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vnards · 4 months

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Ghost A/B/O is Back! Pt.9

I feel like prey again. Flinching at the multiple people in and out of my room. Everything’s too loud. So many people asking the same questions, “Are you okay?” “What happened?” “Did he touch you?” “Did you-“

“Hey, Darling,”

Jacob, after catching wind of the commotion, came to sit in the empty seat next to my bed. “How’re you holding up?”

I sigh. There wasn’t a different answer I could conjure up this time. So I didn’t, “I’m fine.”

There was a silence between us. A lie.

“Look,” Jacob reaches out to grab my hand. I resist trying to pull away, “That alpha won’t bother you again.” The beta looks around us, checking for any listeners before he drops his voice to a whisper, “I can get you out of here.”

I can go back home?

A burst of nervous excitement began to build a flicker of hope in me. A dangerous thing. “Really?”

Jacob chuckled, “Of course. Did you think we’d just keep you here forever?”

I suppose he has a point.

“I just need you to do one thing for me.” His tone raises the hairs on the back of my neck, “Tell them that that alpha touched you.”

I slipped my hand from his, absorbing his serious expression of what he’s asking of me. “But…that didn’t happen.” Another statement I’ve given over and over. “He didn’t touch me.”

There was a pitying smile as he looked at me. As if I was clueless, “Are you sure? You were asleep, weren’t you?”

Something’s wrong.

There was an alarm going off in my head. I get to go home, but only if I ruin the alpha that saved me? “Where’s Ghost?” Jacob must have noticed the shift and saw the questioning in my eyes. He gave another disarming smile, releasing his neutral scent.

“Of course, I know it’s been a long night. I’ll clear out the room so you can get some rest.” The sergeant raised from his seat and patted my shoulder comfortingly. I watched him retreat, starting to talk to the security guards and other staff in the room, herding them out of the room in a gentle suggestion.

Just as the room was almost empty, another visitor arrived. Captain Price.

“Captain, Vic needs to get some rest.” Jacob insisted.

“I know. I won’t be long.” Having been thoroughly dismissed, Jacob and the rest of the staff left the room. The door was not clicked closed, left slightly ajar. Price made sure to approach me at a steady pace and he stayed a respectful distance across the room. “I’ve heard you’ve had a long night,” He chuckled, trying to bring a lightness to the situation. I tried to give a polite smile, but it falls flat. The captain rubs his face, the tiredness becoming apparent the longer you examine him. The tightness in his shoulders. The consistent tapping of his foot. The redness in his eyes. The man hasn’t been back from a mission for 12 hours and he’s been dragged from his rest.

“I’ve known Ghost for a long time.” He begins, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and recounting memories, “He’s been through hell and back twice over. Strong sonofabitch he is.”

I can’t help but interrupt, tired of being treated so softly, “Why are you telling me this?”

It looks as if Price doesn’t know how to answer the question at first, opening his mouth for the words to come and nothing comes out but a sigh. “Simon is a lot of things. But he is loyal like a dog. One I trust with my life. And it seems,” another sigh as Price rubs his eyes for the nth time, “That same loyalty has extended to you.”

Loyal. Protector. Safety.

The words catch me off guard and send a chill down my back. “Where’s Ghost?”

Price tilts his head, “He’s outside.”

“I want to see him.”

The captain hums and moves to open the door, letting in a large shadowy figure with a black face mask on and a muzzle. It’s the first time I get to see the top of the masked alpha’s face. His eyes crystal blue and short hair cropped blond. A scar peeking out from the mask going up his face. The handcuffs clink softly as he walks in timidly, trying to make his frame as small as possible. As if he wasn’t the strong alpha I’ve seen him to be. I reach my hand out to him and he nearly stumbles coming to my bedside.

A warmth envelops me as he holds my hand. A calm balm soothes everything, my mind going blank for the first time in hours. His thumb begins to caress the back of my hand, “You were having a bad dream.” He begins to explain, “I just wanted to help calm you down. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know.” When I saw Ghost, I knew I was just having a bad dream, nightmares to haunt me. But that was after everyone came rushing in, a whirlwind of commotion as I watched my alpha be violently subdued. I take in the bruise under his eye. I know it looks worse than it is, but I can’t help but checking on it, making sure he doesn’t need any more medical attention, “How’s your head?”

A quiet hum came from Ghost, almost like a chuckle. “It’s fine.”

I grumble under my breath, “It’s not fine. They kicked you.” I outline the bruise with my thumb. Simon preens under my attention.

Another, more confident chuckle, this time, “I’ve done a lot worse than just get kicked, baby girl.” I feel my cheeks get warm, the name holding a softness I haven’t experienced in a long time. And hearing it coming from Ghost makes it sound more like a promise than anything else.

masterlist ->

#cod omegaverse #a/b/o #ghost cod #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #simon ghost riley #cod mw2

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resident-idiot-simp · 19 days

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Omega Captain MacTavish and Alpha Riley

Price doesn't know their mates and thinks he has a chance with MacTavish

Price not knowing Tav is mated and wanting a chance with the omega. Only to get slapped in the face with realization as Tav meets them as they get off the helo. Tav greets them both but Riley is pulled close and allowed to stick his face in Tav's scent glad. Riley collapse into the Omega with a rumbling growl of content as Tav just chirps back at him.

(should I continue?)

I've been asked to so here you go

#call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #john soap mactavish #soap x ghost #ghoap #captain mactavish #09 ghost #09 soapghost #simon ghost riley #alpha beta omega #a/b/o #omegaverse

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soaps-mohawk · 11 days

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head.

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.”

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze.

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks.

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.”

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast.

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes.

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.”

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you.

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now.

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence.

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you.

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right.

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress.

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect.

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made.

Nest.

You’re nesting again.

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-”

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.”

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize.

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs.

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances.

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher.

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs.

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin.

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs.

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache.

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers.

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in.

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders.

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress.

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap.

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his.

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words.

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.”

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.”

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself.

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea.

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you.

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs.

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans.

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even.

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked.

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you.

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega.

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.”

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon.

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move.

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you.

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock.

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand.

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?”

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!”

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm.

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices.

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp.

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac.

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to?

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything.

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay.

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door.

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted.

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head.

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him.

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision.

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet.

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.”

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.”

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs.

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back.

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment.

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.”

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity.

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.”

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.”

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.”

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur.

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.”

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay.

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep.

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you.

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still.

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would.

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images.

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly.

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.”

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed.

“What are you going to get?” You ask.

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply.

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!”

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest.

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask.

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours.

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all.

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all.

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you.

“You’re thinking too much again.”

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs.

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side.

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you.

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you.

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.”

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.”

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves.

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours.

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you.

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips.

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room.

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin.

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core.

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you.

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!”

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot.

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.”

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear.

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall.

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you.

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise.

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room.

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired.

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious.

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment.

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side.

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads.

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames.

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass.

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed.

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again.

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower.

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again.

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training.

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head.

He didn’t change his shirt.

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you.

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look.

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening.

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile.

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face.

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.”

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.”

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you.

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.”

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him.

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?”

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork.

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray.

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete.

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor?

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do.

But he didn’t.

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s.

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he.

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do.

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s.

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship.

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him.

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes.

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.”

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway.

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air.

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.”

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?”

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete.

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.”

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM.

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.”

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room.

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass.

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you.

Fuck this is going to be a long training session.

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either.

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp.

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.”

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.”

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you.

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal.

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been.

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.”

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat.

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side.

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?”

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings.

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!”

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache.

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth.

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!”

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release.

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit.

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief.

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud.

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to.

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly.

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.”

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance.

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him.

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you.

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you.

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.”

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise.

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.”

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.”

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot.

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand.

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room.

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs.

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body.

And that was only with his fingers.

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin.

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet.

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again.

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear.

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.”

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.”

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much.

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive.

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.”

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.”

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.”

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds.

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door.

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?”

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another.

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you.

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism.

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.”

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.”

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe.

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book.

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.”

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit.

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest.

“Yes, sir.” You respond.

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.”

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up.

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes.

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it.

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire.

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth.

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched.

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause.

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why.

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him.

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.”

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists.

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.”

“What if I can’t stop?”

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.”

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow.

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before.

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin.

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice.

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.”

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh.

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor.

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits.

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.”

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest.

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple.

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple.

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps.

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head.

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass.

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts.

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do.

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?”

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed.

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you.

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips.

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him.

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her.

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows.

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy.

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel.

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea.

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud.

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.”

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water.

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you.

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind.

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door.

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up.

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues.

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you.

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot.

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed.

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again.

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor.

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach.

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way.

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment.

You hadn't even been naked then.

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are.

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight.

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand.

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier.

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back.

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks.

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.”

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone.

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him.

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.”

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in.

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.”

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot.

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going.

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release.

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in.

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.”

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long.

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.”

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock.

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room.

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week.

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal.

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood.

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.”

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge.

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm.

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.”

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress.

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts.

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure.

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper.

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt.

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy.

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass.

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted.

He’s not Simon anymore.

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out.

“Alpha!”

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