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callsign-mimic · 6 days ago

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Chapter five had such a sweet, wholesome ending, didn't it? Let's add some filth :3

CW: NSFW, MDNI, Omegaverse, Alpha Rut, Omega Heat, Blood and Violence, Knotting, Poorly Written Smut

Chapter Six/Final Chapter

Saint paced restlessly in their room, trying to figure out what to do. The rest of the 141 had shipped out on a mission two weeks ago. Leaving Saint behind to watch over Mimic as she continued to heal from her injury.

The boys were supposed to be back in time for Saint's rut. But the mission had gone sideways. Gotten complicated. The target managing to slip away at the last moment. And now the four Omegas were stuck on an entirely different continent.

Leaving Saint with only Mimic, the newest member of the pack. Who was still recovering from a punctured lung.

Saint had assumed that their first rut with Mimic in the pack would involve the whole pack. As their ruts always have in the past. Meticulously planned to make sure that every Omega was available to help work their Alpha through their rut. But with the complications on the team's mission, and now return date in the near future...

Would Mimic be able to handle it?

She had been spending most of her days dozing, often on the couch with her head resting on Saint's thigh. Their fingers gently threading through her hair as she purrs quietly. Not that she wasn't diligent about her physical therapy and keeping up with her workouts. But she seemed quite content to rest near her Alpha, purring almost constantly.

A knock on the door pulls Saint from their thoughts. They almost answer without thinking before realizing they had burned through their neutralizer. A soft voice comes through the door, making the Alpha pause as they reach for the bottle of neutralizer on the bedside table.

"Alpha? Everything alright?" Mimic asks, concern evident in her tone. It wasn't like Saint to leave her alone for too long. Not while she was still recovering from a knife to her lung. A knife that now hung in a shadow box mounted on the wall above her bed. Much to Price's annoyance.

She sniffs at the air, catching a faint scent that smells amazing. A scent that becomes much more potent when Saint opens their door and looks down at her with that familiar, warm gaze. She realizes it's the scent of her Alpha, leaning in slightly to catch another whiff of that mouth-watering scent that makes her whole body flush with an almost familiar feeling.

"Be out in a minute." Saint says, gently patting the top of her head. The sound of their voice combined with the physical contact and that scent sends a shiver down Mimic's spine. As the door to Saint's room closes again, she's left feeling confused and oddly warm.

Saint notices the change in Mimic's demeanor over the next couple of days. She becomes clingier, keeping as close to Saint's side as she can. Her usual patience morphs into irritability with others.

And her scent is considerably more noticeable.

Odd. Could she be...? Saint starts to think, only to immediately brush off the thought. Mimic hadn't had a heat cycle in three years due to the physical trauma that had resulted from her fight with Monroe. She couldn't possibly be in pre-heat now.

Could she...?

The moment of clarity comes when the two of them are on the training grounds, watching over the newest batch of recruits. Mimic had stopped wearing her collar once she had been fully integrated into the pack. After all, it's not like she was ashamed of her scars. And her scent was barely noticeable unless someone already knew it.

Or, that's how it had been up til this point.

A young Alpha sidles up to Mimic, sniffing at the air around her. She looks at him with one eyebrow raised as he leans in slightly, a wolfish grin on his face.

"Hey there, pretty thing." The young man croons, getting a little too close. "What's a gorgeous little Omega like you doing out here with us so close to your heat? Shouldn't you be nesting? Preparing for your Alpha to take care of you? Or do you not have an Aplha to sate a pretty thing such as yourself?"

He inhales deeply, pointedly, his eyes sparkling with barely contained lust as his voice drops slightly. "Cause if you're in need of an Alpha, then I am more than willing to help."

Normally, Mimic would just break the guy's nose and pin him to the ground with her boot on his throat til he apologized. Being an Omega didn't mean being weak or soft. A point she had made many times since her initial arrival. But she was thrown off by the young Alpha's words.

Heat? Sure, she had been feeling a bit weird lately, in a vaguely familiar way. Definitely warmer than usual. And she had been nesting, hadn't she? Her bed covered in clothes she had pilfered from the rest of the pack while they were away.

Well shit...

The young Alpha gets closer, reaching out to brush his fingers against her cheek as she stares at him in astonishment.

"I have an Alpha." She says curtly, catching his wrist and giving it a warning squeeze.

"Oh?" He asks with a smirk, clearly not believing her. "Do they know you're out here and unattended?" He tries to pull her closer, laughing when she bares her teeth. She considers showing the overconfident idiot his place. It would be so easy to twist his wrist just the right way until she heard that satisfying crack of bones breaking. But she thinks better of it.

The recruit was clearly too confident for his own good, and would likely try to fight back, broken wrist be damned. And Mimic had just had her stitches removed two days prior. If she tore open the fresh scars in a fight with a stupid recruit, Doc would ream her a new asshole. And that old man was the type of person who didn't view punishing idiocy as a violation of his hippocratic oath.

Mimic pulls away from the young Alpha with an annoyed huff, walking wordlessly over to where Saint had been keeping a silent watch over the situation. She rubs her face against her Alpha's chest with a grumble, then climbs their body. Perching on their shoulders and staring at the young recruit with disdain.

The action makes Saint's heart skip a beat. A clear sign that she fully trusted the Alpha that she had once been so skittish around.

A sign of trust that she was showing to her pre-rut Alpha.

Something she had a damn good reason to want to avoid.

Saint turns their gaze to the new recruit, their grey eyes locking on the young man as their lips curl back in a snarls. Visible through the bars on their muzzle. Their low growl of displeasure reverberates through the young Alpha's chest, and sends him running back to join the rest of the recruits.

The ambient noise of the training grounds is drowned out by the sudden sound of Mimic's purring. She melts into Saint's touch as they gently remove her from their shoulders.

"Alpha..." She murmurs, tucking herself close against Saint's side. They wrap their arm around her tightly, her purr vibrating through their very core as they lead her back to the den.

"Settle." Saint rumbles in response, steering her toward their quarters. They pause outside the door and look down at her. She looks back up at them, pupils blown wide and lips slightly parted. Ready. Eager.

Willing.

After a moment of thought, Saint opens the door to their room. As they follow Mimic inside, they reach up and unfasten their muzzle, taking it off and setting it on the dresser. They wanted to taste her. Had to taste her. And they couldn't do that with the muzzle on.

They reach for the case holding their bite guards, when the of Mimic keening softly snaps their attention over to the small Omega. She was standing by the bed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Chewing on her plump lower lip and twisting and tugging at the hem of her shirt. Her pale cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink, eyes averted.

So clearly needy. So obviously desperate for the attentions of her Alpha. And still so hesitant to actually ask.

Saint was on her in a heartbeat, practically tearing her clothes off as their mouth found hers. They pull at their own clothes, discarding them as quickly as possible. Needing as much skin contact with the needy Omega as they could manage. Trailing their kisses down her jaw, Saint buries their nose in the crook of her neck. Nuzzling against the scarred flesh.

Her scent was overwhelming. Almost intoxicating in its intensity. Her mangled scent glands working in overdrive from the sheer intensity of her long overdue heat. Saint nips at her neck, bit guard forgotten on the dresser, and relishes in the sound of her soft moan.

Her body is so soft and supple under the Alpha's lips and hands as they trail kisses down her body. Pliant and willing as Saint settles between her plush thighs. Fuck, but they could drown in the scent of her arousal if she'd let them. They nip and lick at her inner thighs, leaving blooming marks on the pale skin until she's whimpering and squirming.

"Alpha... Please..." Mimic mewls, already breathless and panting from their teasing touches alone. She doesn't need to be anymore than that. The two words being enough to make Saint bury their face against her glistening cunt. Lapping at the sensitive flesh with their tongue and groaning at the taste of her.

It was enough to make their last thread of control snap completely.

The sound of Mimic's moans, gasps, and keening whimpers spur Saint on as they eat her out like she was their favorite meal after days of starving. Their claws dig into the flesh of her hips, drawing pinpricks of blood.

The coppery scent makes Saint pull away from her sweet, needy pussy to bite at her inner thigh. Licking at the blood that slowly welled up in the wound. The taste of her blood combined with the taste of her sweet cream was enough to make the Alpha's head swim.

Saint kept alternating between eating her out and biting at her thighs until she finally reached the peak of her first orgasm. Her back arches off the bed, fingers twisted in the sheets as the pleasure crashes over her with all the force of a tsunami. Saint's name spills from her lips in a sharp cry, sounding like a sinful prayer. The Alpha pulls back, replacing their tongue with two fingers, working her through her release.

They lean over her, licking their lips as they watch her face while she comes down from her high. Pale blue eyes glazed. Porcelain skin flushed a pretty pink. Plush lips slightly parted.

A stunning vision beneath them. Just like the rest of their Omegas when sated. Saint kisses her deeply, letting her taste herself on their tongue as they remove their fingers from her slick folds. Mimic whines at the loss, soft and needy. Watching Saint as they slot herself between her thighs, their own arousal pressing against her entrance.

The Alpha struggles to control themself as they slowly sink into her eager heat. Letting her body accommodate to their size before they start to move. They watch her face for any signs of distress, attentive even as their rut starts to completely take hold. Finding none, they finally let themselves go, giving in to the overwhelming desire of their rut.

The obscene sound of skin slapping skin fills the room. Punctuated with grunts, moans, growls, and whimpers. Saint isn't gentle, their control having given away to animalistic need. And Mimic, so sweet in her submission, so lost in the throes of her heat, relishes in her Alpha's aggression. Her claws rake down Saint's back, leaving thin lines of blood in their wake as she's brought to another earth shattering orgasm. The sensation making the Alpha growl and bury their face in the crook of her neck.

Her scent, which had once been so faint that they almost couldn't detect it over the rest of the pack, was now potent enough to overwhelm their senses. They could feel their knot start to swell. The idea of locking into her, of breeding her, makes their mouth water as they lick a stripe up the side of her neck.

Saint's orgasm finally hits with Mimic's third, the force of it clouding their vision as their knot locks them together. They bite down on her neck. Teeth piercing through the scarred skin with little resistance.

A proper mark.

A blatant claim.

"Mine." Saint growls, staring at Mimic with an intensity that bordered on obsessive. She stares back up at them, her eyes glassy and unfocused. But she doesn't object to the Alpha's claim. Doesn't balk or try to fight it. Instead melting into their touch as they lap at the bite to soothe it.

The taste of her blood is pure ambrosia. Hell, just the taste of her in general. She was just as addicting as the rest of their Omegas. A perfect fit for the Alpha.

Saint keeps rocking their hips gently. The time waiting for their knot to deflate filled with kisses, groping, and murmured praise. And the only rest either of them would be getting through the combined cycles of their rut and heat.

~*~

Four days later, the rest of Task Force 141 returns from their delayed mission. Exhausted and ready to rest, the four of them pause once they step foot in the den. The whole place reeks of Saint's scent.

And Mimic's.

And blood.

"Alpha's rut..." Gaz says quietly, dark eyes widening. "We missed it..."

Price is already moving. Following the scents as they get stronger until he's standing outside Saint's room. He listens intently, the silence from within making anxiety claw at his chest. Even an Alpha with as much control and patience as Saint risked losing all control during rut.

What if they had hurt Mimic? The smell of blood was unmistakable here.

Price steels himself as he slowly opens the door and peers inside. The sight that greets him is Saint asleep in their bed. With Mimic dozing peacefully on their chest. There's a blanket haphazardly thrown over the both of them. But enough of Mimic's skin is exposed for Price to see the scratches and bruises all over her body.

And the claiming bite on her neck.

"Alpha." Price calls, his tone low. Cautious. Ghost appears in the doorway as the Captain makes his way into the room. Saint stirs, grey eyes opening slowly at the sound of their Omega's voice. A low rumble comes from their chest, rousing Mimic.

She sits up slowly, looking around and spotting her pack members. She flashes Ghost and Price a sleepy smile as they walk closer to the bed. Leaning into Price's touch as his fingers brush the skin just under the bite that was still slowly oozing blood.

"Alright, luv?" He asks, still quiet. He chuffs when Mimic nods, looking over at Saint as they exhausted Alpha starts to sit up. "We should get you two cleaned up and get some food in you. I'm assuming neither of you has eaten in days."

Saint runs a hand through their hair, the dark locks still messy and damp with sweat. They grumble quietly as Price gently picks Mimic up and looks her over. He's surprised to see a second claiming bite on the other side of her neck. This one already scabbed over and starting to heal. Meaning the bite that was still weeping was newer. Likely having happened that morning.

He also finds several, more shallow bites along the insides of her thighs. On top of the scratches and bruises littering her pale skin. Mimic lets out a contented sigh. Nuzzling against Price's neck and purring softly as she starts to doze again.

"No worse for the wear, I see." He says with a chuckle. "Ghost, help our Alpha get cleaned up. I'll get our sweet Mim patched up. Then we'll see if we can keep them both awake long enough to eat."

Ghost nods, turning to Saint as they swing their legs out of the bed. Their eyes trail over to Mimic as she purrs in Price's arms. A faint smirk grazing their face. The bites on her neck would heal into visible scars, despite the gnarled tissue they had bitten through. Anyone who saw them would know she was claimed.

Would know she was theirs.

A part of their pack

@readingforaneternity Here you go, babs. Mimic climbing Saint. A nice parallel to the first chapter, no?

#mimic writes #cod ocs #cod mw2 #playing barbies with our ocs #charliemwrites #a part of the pack #apotp #reality adjacent mimic #operator: saint

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