I write and reblog smut! 18+ only please :) Follows from @manautismtrans ; non-fandom smut blog is @coyote-ben
Please Note: I am violently anti-censorship when it comes to fiction. This does not mean I condone everything that is written, but I am not going to police what should and shouldn't exist. I expect people to be responsible enough to separate fiction from reality and not engage in abusive behaviors. Also, I am autistic & a full-time student Please be patient and direct when you talk to me. There may be gaps between posts !!
Requests are open !!! But ! I fear I am very slow :( | I have a beautiful big tall hairy fat bear boyfriend 😵💫🤤 I will answer asks about him
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#brainworms - requests / anon replies
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#smut / #suggestive / #angst / #fluff / #misc - type of post
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Thinking about dog shifter!reader who, when little, would lie in your mothers lap during slow evenings and simply enjoy the peace she brought you
Of course, that was back when you were a pup, small and soft and easy to love.
Nowadays, you're nothing anyone wants to cuddle. A giant anatolian shepherd, you can remember clearly the day your mom told you the weight was too much, and you'd simply have to curl by her feet. Age has changed you just as war has.
No one wants to hold you, too big and awkward to fit in anyone's lap.
That is, until you meet ghost, your new lieutenant. A giant of a man, even in your human form he easily outclasses you. Of course, ghost has worked with plenty of shifters before, killed plenty too, he knows exactly how to read your body language.
Meaning it almost takes you off guard after a bad mission when he drops a heavy hand on the back of your neck like he's scruffing a pup, grunting "with me, runt."
"Go on, shift." He orders you in the recroom he just locked that you're pretty sure he shouldn't have keys for. Maybe you see him a bit as a pack leader, so you shift without asking why.
Only for him to bodily haul you onto his lap, entire couch sagging with the weight of you both. He doesn't groan about how big you are, or how your claws dig into his jeans.
He only cards two hands into your fur and gently scratches until you let your mind really sink into it.
Because for ghost, you aren't too big. Your ugly parts, your neevous habits, all of you. He can handle it if you'd just let him.
No thoughts just mer!reader who was born in captivity and doesn't really understand how to mate...
It's common knowledge that captive mers, especially ones kept in amusement parks, can experience deteriorated instincts. They lack social skills, hunting abilities, and most importantly reproductive success.
Meaning, when you're transferred into a mer sanctuary, it's expected for you to have trouble bonding. They place you with a formerly wild mer, id-tagged "ghost", as he's very forward. The hope, of course, that you'll be pupped come winter.
You clearly want ghost, you just...don't know what to do, it seems.
"What...surely not." Gaz, your main caretaker, whispers under his breath. Inside the tank, you chase ghost around, webbed hands grabbing at his face only for him to huff and turn away. At first it looks like some strange dominance display, but the longer he looks the more gaz realizes you're trying to kiss ghost.
Of course you learned your mating behaviors from humans. You probably saw enough PDA for it to imprint on you.
A quick consult with his supervisors, and gaz has you laid out in the shallow waters of the observation shelf. You blink up at him all docile, having grown up in similar positions during your husbandry work. You don't thrashi or growl like other mers, comfortable with you snout nudging Gaz's knee, licking at the wetsuit material.
"Okay, runt, let's help you out, yeah?" Gaz hums, signaling ghost over to slide onto the ledge like he would for an exam. "Ghost! Up here!"
It's easy getting you and ghost into the correct position, though it would be more natural for you both underwater. You chirp curiously up at ghost, completely oblivious with no instincts to guide you on how to feel about a mer lying on top and pinning your tail down.
"Okay, ghost, I'm sure you know what to do. Just let me–" gloved hands slip into ghosts slit, pulling his cocks out instead of waiting the extra time for them to emerge. Ghost grumbles a bit, knocking his head against gazs side before focusing back on you as gaz lines him up.
"Here we go." He smiles approvingly at the whine you let out on the first thrust. A bit shocked, a bit blissed out already. "Bet that feels real nice, eh?"
You squirm and chirp more, body wriggling under ghost. Clearly you want to participate, but every attempt to reach for ghosts face earns a corrective nip. Gaz, who had been too focused on ghosts cock rutting into you, didn't have time to react when you reached for him.
"What–! Hey! Mhhp–" a long, slippery tongue forces it's way inside of his mouth, thick and warm. To another mer, if kisses were at all normal, it would feel astonishingly tender. For gaz it feels like being face-fucked.
It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but he can't stop it, not when you decide to go deeper and he really has to focus on breathing through his nose.
Above the both of you, ghost rumbles approvingly. bracketing one arm around you and the other around gaz, he keeps what he now recognizes as two mates close together.
When ghost finally cums, gaz is mortified that the second cock is aimed directly at him. Milt splashing across his wetsuit.
He...really hopes no one saw that. He also may need a really cold shower before he does something he shouldn't.
That's it! Is that too much to ask for? Something delicious in the dead of night to hopefully cure the absolutely dreadful sleep you've been having. You've always slept better on a full stomach, and a grilled cheese is easy to make.
Or, so you thought.
Turns out, cooking anything on less than three hours of sleep the past two days will result in flames so tall they touch the ceiling. Which led to the hottest fireman you've ever seen carrying you down a ladder after you realized the fire blocked your tiny entrance hallway.
"You alright, love?" The man sits you down gently. Somewhere between your panic and his attempt to soothe he introduced himself as kyle.
"...you're the most attractive man I've ever met." You say honestly, sleep deprivation having zapped your filter.
Embarrassment follows quickly after, face heating "uhm. I mean. Uh..."
Kyle only laughs good-naturedly, but all you can think about is the fact you're wearing the rattiest pajamas you own, your hair is probably a mess, and your breath most definitely stinks.
"Let's get you checked out by the paramedics, yeah?" Kyle stands up, and against the flashing lights his skin glows in a way that reminds you of the eternal beauty of a phoenix. Cold air bites your skin, makes your stomach twist in anxiety and fluster all at once. "Ghost! I got one for you! Get your ass over here!"
In your sleep deprived mind you don't even realize you're eyeing kyle up. That firemans uniform may not hug hid muscles but damn does he wear it well. face glistening with sweat when he takes his helmet off, grin making your heart stutter.
"The fock do you want, gaz?" A new voice asks, and you flinch three seconds later than a normal person would, mind not quite working when you turn to face–
Oh fuck.
"Is everyone here hot as hell??" You whisper, which is not-at-all a whisper by the way kyle snorts.
The new man is somehow taller than kyle, broad in every sense of the word. His shirt absolutely hugs a fat chest and round stomach, with beefy arms to compliment. You eye the tattoo sleeve hungrily, and only when the man moves to check you for injuries do you look at his face.
A black surgical mask with the bottom of a skull printed on it. Underneath the cap you spot the lightest blonde hair you've ever seen.
"Why do you always give me the eccentric ones?" Ghost, you assume, huffs. He's looking directly at you, gloved hands moving your face to inspect, but its kyle who answers.
"They remind me of you." Kyle leans against the door of the ambulance, arms crossed. God that's hot.
"That a compliment, gaz?" Your emt raises a brow. He doesn't even glance at you when he raises your shirt to check for bruises, only tilting his head at the full-body shudder from the latex on your stomach.
"You want it to be?" Kyle snarks, then turns his focus to you "do you want some caffeine, love? You look dead on your feet."
"Stop trying to drug my patients." A warm palm slides cold metal against your ribs, "breath in deep for me, there you go....good."
Oh.. wow. That makes your thighs clench, and by the look kyle shoots his friend he agrees.
"Oh, obedient too." Ghost quips, moves to the other side and this time you don't need prompting to breath in. He looks all to smug when he looks at kyle "reminds me of you."
You...you must be hallucinating.
No way two obscenely attractive men are flirting with eachother and somehow you're involved in it.
"Hearts pounding, runt." Ghost whispers, in a way that certainly isn't professional. He completely tosses professionalism out the window to kneed a thumb into your hip, speaking over his shoulder "this one could be fun, gaz. It clearly likes the idea. Been eyeing you up plenty."
"Ghost...we talked about this..." kyle groans, reaches across you to pry ghosts hand off and definitely doesn't cop a feel with the hand bracing on your thigh.
"We don't scout on the job, you have thirteen stitches to prove that, remember?"
"But this one would be fun..."
"..."
You pointedly stay deathly silent, afraid any move will have them drawing away.
"...fine." kyle relents, pecking ghost on the ear before handing you a scrap on paper he most definitely already had written.
"Go get some sleep, call us if you want. Sorry about the apartment." With that, ghost is dragging kyle off and even your sleep-deprived brain can figure out what those two will be doing.
Thinking about getting trapped under rubble with alpha!ghost....
You hardly had time to react when the building came down. The only thing that registered was the sudden, deafening sound of wood beams splitting under the force if an explosion.
You should be terrified right now, mind lagging behind and trying to survey where you've been hurt or not.
Instead all you can focus on is the sharp, comforting scent of ghost.
The alpha is bowed over you, arms braced on either side of your head and knees squeezing your hips in the tight space. Every inhale brings in his scent and it's—
Comforting.
"Hey! Hey, are you with me, soldier?" His voice finally registers past the thumping of your blood. You let out a weak whine, your own instincts overwhelmed, and feel him physically exhale "okay. You broken?"
A shake of your head, and he calms down more. That comforting scent makes you calm down too, and you belated realize this is the first time you've properly smelt him.
He smells like leather, wood, a slight metallic note. It makes the beta in your warm and happy, you've always mentally considered him pack. Despite the debris in the air, your crane up in the small space to shamelessly rub your cheek into his neck.
"Fuckin' hell– really?" Ghost grunts above you, knees squeezing you tighter for a second.
"You...smell nice." You mumble, almost dazed.
Ghost curses more, says something about an 'instinct haze' but you don't focus on it. Instead, you nuzzle further against his scent gland, purring. You hardly notice the hard line pressing into your side, or the growing change in his scent, aroused from the close contact with the beta he's been eyeing for months.
"Christ runt–" ghost shifts, head dipping until your foreheads knock together "settle down. I can't– just stop right now, okay?"
You nod, because your alpha wants you to. You'd do anything for him.
Ghost bites his tongue and tries to listen through the rubble for the team. You're out of it, and he wont have you like this. If he takes you as a mate he wants to earn it.
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Your tiktok feed has been filled with spouses packing lunch for their husbands, making neat little meals. You thought it would be fun to film your own!
"Come pack my husbands lunch for a fourteen hour shift!" You happily narrate, ready to show off the meal for ghost that you have down to a science.
One container of last nights leftovers for him to eat in the morning when he gets in. A fresh sandwich with sauce on the side to avoid soggy bread. Beans, rice, and steamed veggies in another box. Of course, the insulated thermos gets some hot soup to keep him warm throughout the day. Two electrolyte drinks, two water bottles though you know he always forgets to drink them.
As always, you make sure to fill it with snacks for him to pick at through the day. Crisps, trail mix, those gummy worms he loves to much.
All that is topped with a hand-written note, though you don't let the camera see that. It's private between you and ghost!
You post the video and move on with your day, only to become upset when you see the comments on it a few days later.
"No way he eats all that!"
"That's just for show. Totally unrealistic! No one needs all those snacks!"
"Do you not expect him to come back for three days??"
The solution? Responding with a video of your beloved husband at dinner that night.
Ghost, a giant of a man hunched over his plate and scarfing down pasta. It's a bit difficult to film, seeing as He's holding your hand like the clingy man he is. Still. You think the sheer size of him and the hunger he has speaks for itself.
The comments after that seem to come to a consensus
"Actually? Absolutely valid. Keep feeding him."
After that, you occasionally post the food you cook for you and your husband and watch in delight as people comment in awe.
Inspired by a chat with @cod-enthusiast and @quarterlifekitty in the discord chat <33
Rommy!!!! I love the muzzled ghost post!! What does his muzzle look like? :3
Thank you! So [muzzled!ghost] kinda looks like this!
He painted the skull himself, and instead of hid classic hard-shell skull mask he wears on the field, the muzzle gets paired with a balaclava underneath. It's custom made to fit him!
There's some other features I can't go into detail about without spoiling my next post for him >:3
Thinking about reader being confused by alpha!ghost's mask...
Or rather, his muzzle. A thick, black metal contraption. It clamps over his mouth and nose, hooking behind his head. The front is messily painted to resemble a skull.
You try not to assume but...well...everyone knows what a muzzle on an alpha means. Bite risk, prone to instinct-induced haze, dangerous. It scares the hell out of you, wondering what exactly ghost did to earn something only prisoners get. Wondering if it was an omega he bit.
Cold, dead eye's track you through any space. The bridge of his nose crinkles, as if he's attempting to bare his teeth beneath the metal. None of the others act weird around him, they all smell of pack, that's for sure.
Of course, they want you to smell of pack too. It's strange to have non-pack in a task force, and you know they're feeling antsy about it.
Gaz tries to speed the process along by scenting you all the time. Soap always finds an excuse to feed you. Even price insists on you joining pack bonding activities.
Every single time, ghost has you drawing back into yourself.
How could you possibly relax with a threat at your doorstep? Everyone refuses to acknowledge his muzzle, how he looks at you like prey. What does he want?
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No thoughts just fucking inexperienced!ghost and he's absolutely starstruck.
He can hardly believe it's real. you of all people on top of him, pressing him into the bed by his shoulders. You, the fucking beautiful mechanic that he's been crushing on since you yelled at him two months ago.
"Mmhhh, so well behaved, baby–" you moan, hips moving against his languidly, working his cock in and out in deep strokes. Ghost swears you look like an angel, the soft light of his lamp back-lighting you in a halo.
"Ah– ah– mmghh– please, love–" ghost whines, hands running along your skin like he can't decide where to settle. Switching between your chest, waist, thighs. Rough callouses digging into you like he's trying to make sure you stay.
He gasps when you clench down, hips bucking up and head tossed back. He settles down as soon as quick as it started, thigh muscles clenched to stop himself. He doesn't want to ruin it, doesn't want to disappoint you.
"Ah! Fuck– whoah, hey, si. Simon–" you have to grab him by the chin and force him to look at you. Fear and uncertainty under that heavy curtain of lust, insecure about everything, about this with you. Your lips press to his jaw, quick, almost sweet before you pull back to smile "hey, it's okay. You can move, I promise you'll be fine"
His hips give the smallest twitch in anticipation, but he holds back to ask "what– what if it's wrong? What do I do?"
"Then I correct you," you shrug, grinding back into him slow.
"Oh." Ghost stares for a moment, processing. Slowly, his hands creep down to your hips, grip tightening like the springs on a trap "okay."
That's all the warning you get before he's physically moving your hips, your entire body, for you. The thick muscle on his biceps bulging with the force, first replicating your movements then slowly adding his own thrusts. "Ah– ahh, okay, that's good, si— FUCK!"
he angled your hips just right, hitting that spot inside that you had been avoiding in hopes he came first. A hint of that confident soldier you know slips through when ghost chuckles, shuffling his shoulders to pound that sweet spot relentlessly.
Ghost is staring at you with stars in his eyes while he fucks you stupid on his cock, brows knit together and flushed down to his chest. Thankfully, he cums first, and it's in that desperate chase to ride out his own orgasm that you do too, having to catch yourself on the headboard to stop from face-planting against him.
"Fuck, good boy, simon. So good for me, yeah?" You mumble lazily– wait. Surely not.
You roll your hips to confirm, almost shocked when you ask "holy shit, are you already hard again?"
Ghost groans under you, thrusting up hungrily "never stopped."
Oh you are so fucked and you are so never letting ghost go.
umm not sure if i like this but omegaverse kinda-neglected reader! x tf141 (ghost focus), angst, good ending, gn!reader, SFW
You’re a beta. That should come as a relief, many tell you every day they wish they were your designation instead. No heats, no ruts, not even stinking up a room when you got a bit too overwhelmed by an emotion.
Just in the middle: a nice calming scent, a decent paying job— never too high, a beta CEO wouldn't be able to control anything— and the lack of any crazy season that would get you all flustered. Your sense of smell was incredibly different to theirs, but you werent given much chances to complain considering all they went through in heats.
So naturally you were taught your life revolved around alphas and omegas, all the way from secondary school when you were sat next to the reactive Alpha’s to “try and make them behave better”. In biology class your designation was skimmed over very quickly in favour of understanding how to react to their emotional changes and the like, and anything else you had to figure out for yourself.
It’s not like getting out of school into the workforce was much better. Omega’s rights had changed greatly in the past century, and no one would bat an eye at them being in most jobs— so applying was even more impossible. Even when you did get into the workplace, it was like alpha’s would immediately stop listening when there was an omega in the room, or vice versa. Truthfully you were jealous of their natural pull to each other, like the relationships you’d read in books or see in swoon worthy movies.
“There’s all sorts of jobs— chefs, mechanics, cyber analysts, engineers, dont just have to be a soldier.” The army recruiter outside your local supermarket rambles, clearly trying to get at least one recruit today at the minimum. Otherwise he’d definitely get in big trouble. “And you’re a beta, so you can do both work with Omega and Alpha jobs! You’ll be fine!”
“What?” You look at him, that mention perking you up and he looks at you with glee. You were only listening in hopes he’d get you off his back, but that was certainly news to you.
“I bet you’re sick of fighting with even more people for jobs now, huh? In the military omega’s and alphas are kept very seperate, even so, they’re required to be on suppressants so everything’s very easy.”
—————
So, that’s how you ended up here, bullied and forced into the shape of a soldier, something you still feel fake about even after countless deployments. It’s quickly forgotten though when you have the thrill of finally finding your place in society.
Your first team was mostly alphas, a beta here and there, but it felt great to have them treat you equally, slapping a hand on your back and grinning at a job well done. The omega team wouldnt even bat an eye when you were assigned to them, just as welcoming. Truly the best of both worlds, you could be anything you wanted in this system— it was like it was built for you to thrive.
Then the taskforce got established, and by a stroke of luck, you got transferred on. “You always run this early?” A hand lands on your shoulder, and you jump just to meet Sergeant Mactavish’ grin. After completing your demolitions course with flying colours, you soon got assigned under him. His hair is wet, mohawk flat for once, and you can only assume he just washed off. Still, his scent washes over you, easing your momentary shock and you nod, smiling. “Yeah, isn't the water too cold this early?”
“It’s alright. C’mon, let’s go meet the others for breakfast.”
You follow him, the faintest happy scent trailing off of you as you do so, and spiking just the miniscule amount when you sit down at the table.
“Please please give me your bread roll, i love the jam they use for it.” Gaz pleads, clasping his hands together and you can't help but roll your eyes, letting him trade it for his fried egg. “I love you so much-“ He mumbles, already taking a bite out of it that Price rolls his eyes as he takes a seat.
“Almost thirty years old...” He mutters and you giggle, eyes moving to where Ghost comes with his tray, sitting next to Price.
“I saw you on the track, you looked tired.” He says, giving you a pointed look, and making your cheeks flush. Oh, right. The night prior you’d been suddenly awaken to help deal with a feral omega, forced to give up hours of sleep to soothe them to submission..
“Just didn’t get the best sleep. I’ll feel alright after a coffee.” You give him a small shrug, eating more of your food. His eyes linger on you for a moment longer before nodding and carrying on.
The sergeants were more than happy to include you in all their plans, barely batting an eye when your scent wasn't as strong as theirs or in combat training you couldn't hold as much of an intimidating presence. Nor did the Captain and the Lieutenant care either, always praising the fact you could slip by unnoticed, with no chance of wavering from the other two designations and such.
It felt almost like a pack.. and it was perfect. So perfect.
“Johnny, just spill it!” Gaz groans as the Scot dances around the subject for the tenth time that morning, making you all roll your eyes at the breakfast table.
“I got an omega!” The whole table falls silent, and then Gaz lets out a low whistle patting him on the back whilst the Captain nods approvingly.
“And you wont show us a photo?” Ghost chimes in, making Soap stumble to get his phone out, excited as he passes the phone around. A sweet, soft omega. Round cheeks, a bright smile, hanging off his arm like it was the key to her heart. A perfect match to him.
“She looks perfect with you, good on you, son.” The Captain says, giving him a gruff smile and Gaz snickers at his father-like praise. Then they turn to you, as you sit in shock, fork gently clattering on the plate.
Your jaw hurts from how you physically have to force a wide enough smile, standing up and coming around to congratulate him properly. It’s even worse when Kyle insists he should show more pictures and so you stand there between them, making fake ooo’s and aaah’s in hopes it would hide the slightest change in your scent.
It changes everything.
“Soap, me and Gaz are going to the pub later—“
“Ah… cant, omega wants me to watch a movie with her. What about friday?”
“Oh— do you mind if we do some sparring today?”
“Uh.. okay, sure. Just gotta finish up this text to my omega. Ye know she’s getting stronger by the day! I’ve been helping her keep fit, yknow, to stay safe and all.”
“Do you want to go grab lunch?”
“Oh— sure. Feels like i havent seen you in forever.”
You smile wide when he finally agrees to hang out with you again— after all, it’s not like he was acting like this with Kyle. So you both enter the mess, going to grab your plate.
“Ahh.. the ‘mega loves chicken like this, makes hers a bit more seasoned though. Bloody good.” You smile weakly, trying to start your own conversation about work, and the mission you’ll be going with him on.
“Oh ye havent heard yet.” He falls quiet and you tilt your head in confusion, about to place the dish on your tray.
“Havent heard what? Was there a new brief?”
“You should talk to the Captain.”
Confused, you do stop by his office later that evening, gently tapping on the door with your knuckles and announcing yourself. With a weaker scent, he couldn’t tell you apart from the alpha’s across base with their scent blockers on, unlike the rest of the taskforce.
“Come in.”
“Soap said i havent heard something about the mission im going with him on soon? Did something change?”
“Ah, right. You dont need to go anymore.”
You blink in surprise, suddenly really confused by all of this and you step forward a bit more, scent souring. Not that he’d pick up on it.
“He’s a claimed alpha now, there’s no need for a beta to mediate.”
You stand there, the contents of your stomach in your throat as you process his words. Mediate. You werent there because of skills.. the CO who encouraged you to take a demolition course didn't even think you were good at it either. They just needed a beta to mediate in a field lacking them.
“Oh. Right.”
A month passes by of you watching Soap slip away from you, barely talking to you if not about his omega, never joining you on a morning run until you’re sure he’s forgotten about you altogether. At first you had chalked it up to him just being busier with mated life. After all, you’ve witnessed the pull of an omega first hand many times, how it makes them change. Though, his relationship with the alphas didn't change in the slightest.
With his protective instincts he was drawn to the alphas more now, always hanging around Gaz and and Ghost when they weren't busy, beelining straight past you unintentionally. You cant really blame him either, no one remembers the beta’s faint scent.
It was Gaz next. One evening you were leaning against him on the couch, unable to hide your despair and luckily he’d been nice enough to let you sit there without explanation. It was nice, you thought that if you had no Soap, at least you had your other best friend. He always made you smile, and he was the reason you even got a slice of attention from Soap these days.
And then it came.
It started small, just hanging around Soap more often than not. Really you hadnt thought much of it, but it did feel rough when you sat also on the rec room couch just to watch them fully invested in something you could never join in on. You figured it was about Soap’s omega again, not something you particularly wanted to hear about.
Then it turned into turning down bar nights altogether. They would both cancel, Gaz excusing it with ‘plans’ whilst Soap was always honest. Sure you had the whole team, but being in the vicinity of four alphas in an alpha only bar was enough of a scent overload to give any beta a headache.
Then you saw his lockscreen on accident, just wanted to check the time really. It was unmistakably obvious though, the smiles, calmer than Johnny’s one, but just as gorgeous and adorable. A real treat for the eyes.
“Congratulations.” You mumbled when he came back to the couch with his can, raising a brow at you.
“What..?” He knew, of course he did. You knew his lying look.
“Got yourself an omega, when are you gonna tell the others?”
He seems embarrassed, quickly grabbing the phone off of you, cheeks burning. “How did you see that?!”
The next morning he announces it to the team and you join in with congratulating again, only too aware of the cycle that was soon to repeat. Only, it wasn't too bad with Gaz. You were grateful, so grateful when he still would spend a lunch or two with you, or even just talk to you.
“Hey, we going on our usual grocery run this week?” You two were put together on the rota for stocking the rec room and so you both head out, riding shotgun in Gaz’s car.
You both had a copy of the list, walking around the store together, until you eventually got them all. “Oh! Just a second, need to grab some scent stuff.” In the small beta section they allowed, there were really good products to clear out scents from others that’d stick to betas and linger around. After all, you had a keener sense of smell, so being around the taskforce meant it racked up pretty fast on your clothes and on your room.
Kyle was the first you confided in after you suddenly fainted once, at a bar, the scents too much for you to handle. Though you managed to quell it pretty quickly with these. Some you could just spray in your nose and go— perfect for getting rid of the oncoming dizziness.
“You know you dont have to get the fanciest things, just get the base ones. It’s at the back of the store and they’re expensive.”
You pause, he never questioned this before, not even the first time you had nervously told him— afraid to be undermined.
“There’s no base ones..” You say with a raised brow, but you cant bring yourself to be too rude to him. Even if his tone was almost sharp, scolding, as if you were being selfish. Right now it feels like you’re reduced to your designations, and that’s it. Not humans, not friends, not even teammates. Alpha and beta. “There’s only one brand that ever does it.”
“Really? And what about the cheap scent clearers? The ones you used to use before.” He gives you a firm look, challenging, and you swallow, unsure where this hostility came from.
“..They got pulled off the shelf, Kyle. Thousands of beta’s got chemical burns— i couldnt smell properly for a week.”
He pauses for a split second, like he’ll acknowledging the truth in your words and his wrongs, then just huffs, turning to scan where the empty checkout is. “Fine. Get what you want then, but I'm going to pay. I’ll meet you at the car.”
When you return with the small plastic bag, he puts his hand out for the receipt so it can be handed to you at a price for expenses on the card. “I paid for it myself.” You mutter back, your scent tinging sour and in the close proximity it might be noticeable this time. He pauses, and then puts his hands on the wheel, choosing not to comment further.
———————————
The sergeants are on a mission, one you were supposed to be on, but now you’ve been shoved into another with unclaimed alpha’s who need a bit of extra settling. Or rather someone lesser than them they can secretly believe they’re higher than. It doesn't feel much different to secondary school now, and you find yourself with less will to argue about it.
Thankfully, Lieutenant Ghost is here with you. He’s always been alright— not exactly friendly but not rude either. You were quite intimidated by his rank at first, convinced he’d be strict and unforgiving but he’s content if you get the work done.
“Handled that bomb in record time.” He comments beside you on the way back to base. There was another demolitions expert on the team but when news came up that there was another bomb they had not suspected, he immediately put his trust in you to disarm it.
“Thanks for the chance, Lt.” You smile up at him and he nods, acknowledging your hard work. After all, you really did always put in more than your best. Even so, he cant help but notice you sink as soon as he shifts his attention to someone elsewhere, the conversation falling quiet. He’d be blind to notice the gap between you and the sergeants, even if you were a beta and them having omega’s shouldnt even bother you. Him and Price had to regularly reminds them to not walk around in clothes stinking of their partner.
“The sergeants are back from their mission, could hit the pub tonight. Whole team can come”
You feel too bad to decline now, so you just nod. “Okay. Yeah.”
—————
The Alpha only pub is bustling and you offer to grab the third round just so you can escape the thick scents building around you. It doesnt help that you’re basically rationing your scent-refresher as of right now.
“Omega’s doing good.” Soap responds to Price’s questions.. At least you’ll miss this mandatory conversation while you go. The bartender already knows you, greeting you with a welcoming smile as you start your order. It’s all going on Price’s card, so you take the opportunity to get a sundae instead of alcohol. He did owe you one after an explosive you caught right by his position. Besides, it was less than a tenner, and you’d savour it for life.
“Heat’s coming up though. It’s only three days long usually, but should go smoothly. The store almost ran out of supplies too.” Soap sighs loudly, shaking his head and Kyle nods along, also probably having similar issues.
You’re not exactly listening, carefully holding the plate of drinks so you don't accidentally spill it with the countless bodies in this crowd.
“If they got rid of the beta section, they’d have more to spend stocking on the omega stuff.” A soldier hanging around elbows Soap, but he doesnt disagree. If anything the buzz of alcohol just makes him want to finally speak his truth now.
“Right? I mean really? Beta period products? Beta scent enhancers? Like those would actually even work to attract an alpha let alone an omega. Those scent refreshers cannot be real either, i mean, you’d think they’d want to smell us, ya know? Not like they get anything else— ”
The table goes silent, Gaz obviously kicking Soap in the leg until he looks up and meets eyes with you. The other soldier doesnt bat an eye, raising a brow at you. “Oh, your drinks are here. Can you order me two aswell?”
“I’m not a waiter” You snap back, and the Captain stands quickly, taking the tray from your hands and placing it down on the table.
“Think your team wants you back over there.” He motions for the soldier to go with his eyes, and he quickly leaves. “Thanks for grabbing them, i’ll get yours. Come, sit.” He turns to you but you freeze, shaking your head, and turning back into the crowd. “I’ll get it myself.”
“You idiot!” Gaz puts his head in his hands at the very obvious tension from Soap’s words.
“I didn't know they was there!” He retorts, though also slumps into his seat a little more. “It’s true. What do you want me to say?”
“Enough.” Price sighs, pinching his brow, he should’ve stopped the sergeants earlier but he hadnt known he’d be stupid enough to say that. Even if it was something that they were all thinking.
They take their drinks from the tray you brought, Gaz and Soap downing theirs immediately as if that’ll get rid of the dread hanging on their head. Price begins to sip his light chatter starting up again until Ghost suddenly speaks up.
“They still haven't come back.”
It’s been five whole minutes, and there’s no sight of you to be seen anywhere.
—
You’re sitting at the back entrance of the pub, empty at this time with the game roaring inside the pub. The alleyway it leads into is dirty, a few football decorations here and there, but mostly just black bin bags spilling out the large bins. There were two guys who had been staring you down for a while, like you were something that needed saving. The second one of them approached and caught your lack of omega scent, they immediately groaned and just turned away.
You just stick your spoon back in your sundae, not even lifting your head the entire time, just letting the cold sweetness try and keep you together.
There’s a small noise as someone sits down beside you, a rustle of clothing, and then the soft click of a lighter. You turn your head, slightly surprised to find Ghost there instead of a random drunk bloke hoping to score a sweet thing. He meets your eyes but neither of you say anything as you go back to eating your sundae.
“Should’ve got the other one.”
“What?”
“The bigger one.” He shrugs, the cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. “Price told us to order whatever.”
“This is the only one that can come in a takeaway cup.” You mumble and he doesn't say anything further, not even when you lick the spoon clean.
“Why are you here?” You ask, unable to keep silent anymore. It’s not like he actually came to see how you were, and you’re suddenly glad he didn't come ten minutes earlier when you were on the verge of bawling your eyes out.
“S’posed to be a team night.”
“Maybe for the Alphas.” You grumble and he cant help but hum alongside you, not arguing with you on that fact.
“Cant stand the smell, can ya? Got the takeaway cup cause you knew you’d need to go regardless.” Of course he figured it out immediately, though you’d think it’s impossible to read you given how some people treat you.
“You mad i’m not fawning over your scent?” You scoff and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, making sure no chocolate sauce lingers— especially with how he’s watching you right now.
“Johnny is a stupid drunk, ‘lright?.” He mutters, a bit of bitterness in his tone that always lingers, but it’s not directly at you. “Price’ll convince you it’s just his instincts and all, looking after the omega.”
You look over at him and give him a deadpan look, the most honest you’ve ever been with the man. Usually you’re pretty agreeable, in fact the only time you’ve had a conflicts was when they got injured. Turns out you’re the only voice of reason whenever that happened, as the smell of the blood sent the rest of them into a spiral of worry.
And well, after that, he can't really blame you for being like this.
“I’m going.” You mutter, standing up and throwing the plastic cup in the bin before wiping your hands on your jeans.
To your surprise, he doesnt hesitate to follow you as you round to the front, heading to the little bus stop. It’s not the first time you’ve left early, but it is the first time someone’s made sure you’re alright by the end of the night.
————————
Soap only makes a quick apology which you’re forced to just accept,, because what else can you really do? Mess up a whole team because of one thing he said which wasnt that far from the truth?
As predicted, Price did try and tell you it was due to protective instincts, wanting the best for his omega. Right, the same instincts that made him leave you like you were dirt on his shoe.
Besides, life was getting busier for you as you now got passed between two teams. Either working with Ghost and Price or a different group of alphas. Passed around like a damn stress toy in your opinion.
“So we’re going to the one in the highstreet?” Gaz and Soap are chatting on the couch, not that you’re listening, just getting your things out the cupboard to make yourself a hot drink.
“My ‘mega loves it, craves the food there all the time. She’s gonna love meeting yours.”
Whatever, it wasnt the first time they’ve discussed plans in front of others. Wouldn't be the last.
“I’ll text the Captain and Ghost.” Soap adds, humming as he starts tapping away at his phone, opening their group chat you assume. One that you’re clearly not on, given that they dont invite you.
“You think he’ll even come?”
“He’s not that antisocial.”
“Yeah but he’s only one without an omega dumbass.”
The container you're holding clatters against the table and they both back to stare at you with the exact same wide eyed look you’re giving them. If he’s the only one then Price..
You walk out like nothing happened, even if you can feel the tears start to burn your eyes. It was all going so well, you were all happy together— werent you? So why?
The cycle repeats for the third time. You’re taken off another team, not deemed useful enough anymore. You congratulate Price when you next see him, and he doesn't say more than a thank you. Somehow it hurts more that he didn't purposefully tell you— he just forgot, like everyone else did.
You stopped coming by the rec room the last time the sergeants had a movie night without you. The texts between them and you ran dry, and after skipping one breakfast, you just never came back again. That’s just how it was now, and they didn't even reach out once. In fact, all of the last messages were from you. An unanswered question, a conversation cut short, or a text that just never even got opened.
Except for Ghost. He still spoke to you— well, as much as he’s known to anyway. A hello in passing, a chat between sets in the gym, maybe when you’re queuing for food. As much as you wanted to take the opening, you just couldnt, too terrified to. After all, it was only a matter of time until Ghost left you aswell. You should know that you should savour every last moment, cling onto it tight, but you just can't. It’s not like you two were ever the closest anyway.
——————-
You’ve been moved to an omega team this time. It’s not the first time you’ve worked with one, but usually they can balance each other out easier since they aren't as explosive as Alphas. It also means this is a mission you can't slip up on from the months of work they’ve put into this.
They welcome you immediately, and you grasp the ropes of it all fairly quickly, until it’s finally the day. The prisoners are right where you expected them, and just as told, the one in the middle has explosives strapped all over.
They evacuate the rest out whilst you kneel down before the explosives, watching the wires and where they turn and twist intently whilst the person tries their best not to squirm too hard. Even with your best efforts, nothing seems to match what you know but you frown as you notice the wire reaching towards the chair they’re bound to. Down to the floor.. a weak floorboard. The weight of the chair.. essentially a mine.
One hostage on that chair— you move her off and everyone dies. What do you even do?
“Do not stand up at any point, okay? I’m going to get you out, but you have to trust me.” Shrugging all the gear off, you cut the straps that locks the person to the chair.
You hand her your gear carefully and step back, just enough to reach the doorway. There’s no telling how large this bomb is, but you can assume it cant be enough to seriously damage the ship you’re on.
“Okay, you need to shuffle forward just slightly and place the gear behind you, okay? Then, when you’re ready, cover your head with your hands and run towards me.” The woman trembles, doing as you told and the weight of the gear seems to be a good enough trade off for the mine to not set off.
After that, she bolts, and you pull her through the doorway and as far away as possible, shielding her as the shockwaves rattles through the ship.
———————
Ghost hadnt expected to see his phone buzz at this time, by the infirmary no less. But when they relayed what happened, he had made his way there immediately. You had just come out of surgery, a high enough dose of anaesthesia in you that you just werent acting right. He intended to wait outside until you stabilised, that is until the nurse rushes out suddenly.
“Would you mind coming in, sir? We need someone to restrain them.”
He steps inside to see you squirming against another nurse, slurring and trying to escape your bed, clearly panicked.
“Stop that, you’re going to hurt yourself more.” He reaches for your flailing wrists, forcing the nurses out the way as they stand at the back and watch you get manhandled by the alpha.
Something in his gut feels uncomfortable with the stains of red across the bandages across your body, burns peeking out of some. So he carefully restrains your wrists against each other, holding them firmly.
“L-lieutenant?” You stammer out, dazed eyes searching for him intently until you manage to focus on his mask. Finally you stop freaking out for a moment. He turns but the nurses are already gone, probably called to another patient— the operation you were on had quite a few injuries for different reasons.
“Yeah, it’s me. Y’just came out of surgery, you’re okay now, alright?” He carefully lets go of your hands, helping you reposition yourself after you had tried to squirm off the bed. “I’ll grab the nurse, then we can see when we can get y’outta here.”
The nurse?
You blink at him, looking around at your surroundings, the sterile smell of the place attacking your nose. Simon was an alpha.. and the nurses, well specifically in this wing.. your eyes glance to the sign outside the door, the familiar writing.
“No- no you cant!” You barely manage to grasp his arm as he pulls away and he looks at you in confusion. The beeping in the room starts getting even louder than before, almost incessant and you feel like your chest is going to explode.
“Your heart rate is rising, sarge. You need help—“
“Lieutenant— no, please-“ You whine pathetically as he pulls away from you, leaving him stunned until he reluctantly steps closer again before you throw yourself entirely out of the bed to reach him.
“I wont let ‘em hurt you, promise.” He can only assume you must be scared of needles or something, a fear of medical care surely. He never knew that about you, and it spikes something in his chest, a cog in his head. The fear radiating off of you is palpable, and he can smell the faintest change of your scent in the air.
“No- no! The nurse— she’s an o-omega, you cant—“ You choke out, head getting dizzy from all the sudden movement as you desperately clutch his sleeve. It forces him to stay right there, not the grip on his sleeve but the desperation in your eyes.
“Sarge— i’m not gonna act like a wimp in rut from talking to an omega.” He huffs but he knows you’re out of it. It must be the anaesthetic getting to your head, making you say all these silly things.
“You’re going to leave me- you’re going to—“ A sob escapes you as grip loosens on him and he freezes, watching you curl into yourself. Your forehead gently hits his arm, tears wetting his sleeve.
“I’m right here.” He says, voice quieter and it makes him breathe relief when the beeping settles down to a steadier rate, even if it is still high and you look even worse like this— so lost and terrified.
“You are..” You sniffle, pressing your nose further against his arm. “t-the omega nurse- she- she’ll come and you’ll leave with her. You’ll leave me- a-and never speak to me again, please- lieutenant please.” Your hands tighten and he swallows sharply, letting your words sink in.
It was never about envy, not even the way you stared at them whenever they spoke about omegas. It was pure fear. And this feeling in his chest, it was tightening with each soft sniffle from you, instincts flaring. He’s never felt like this in his life, infact he was convinced he never would. But he just cant stand the sight of you like this— the bloodstained clothes, the fear in every small movement, your vulnerability.
He steps forward without thinking about it, his free arm gently prying you off of him until you fall back against the pillows. “Not leaving you for some random omega, you silly beta.” He scolds, picking you up off the bed until your head rests on his shoulder, sniffling into his shirt.
“Gonna take you where you belong. Gotta tell me if i hurt you, though.” Warmth spreads through him now that he has you against him like this. It clicks something in his brain he didn't know was waiting for a stimulant.
All that leaves your lips are the sobs that keep coming, staining his shirt, but finally settling now the dizziness has settled. “Dont go.. don’t, please, you cant..”
You’re right, he cant keep you around these omegas and all of this. No, he needs you to be healing properly around things you like— you want. He needs to look after his beta.
He grabs your duffel off the chair where it’s left, checking the corridor twice before marching through the quiet corridors towards the barracks.
No thoughts just alpha!ghost who grew learning to control his scent and omega!reader who very much...didn't.
Ghost had always been told that spilling your scent everywhere was poor manners, that only children couldn't control their scent. Meanwhile you were taught that having an open scent was essential for communication and perfectly normal.
Which means the first time ghost meets you, his instincts have no idea what to do with such strong happy omega scents suddenly in his space. Ghost grew up with scent blockers at home, and in most public spaces people wear some sort of blocker. You barely have a chance to purr a greeting before he's grabbing you by the shoulders and shoving his face into your neck.
"Mghhggh— omega. Sweet. Good." He rumbles, low and muffled into skin, almost as if he doesn't register it's happening. You can only stand in shocked confusion. Gaze slipping to the still open door of his office and wondering if you should call for help, because you have no idea why he's acting like this and—
"Fuck— you smell good— christ—" ghost holds you tighter, crowding you against the desk. You tentatively lean in to sniff around his scent blockers and get the faintest scent of arousal.
Which is instantly confirmed by his hips rutting forward, his hard cock rubbing against you while he whines "sorry— I don't— fuck that's good—"
Oh. Oh shit. The peices slowly click into place, and you realize exactly what your scent is doing to him, though you always thought this sort of aphrodisiac like reaction was a myth.
You try to soften your scent, knowing it will stress him out if your own scent fluctuates too much, one hand sneaking up to massage the back of his neck "hey. Hey, it's okay. I get it, do what you need to do."
Ghost makes a sound caught between a growl and a keen, pressing the entire length of his body against you. "Fuck— sorry— hold still— omega. Smell good. Mhhh—!"
You've never seen an alpha react like this.
You've also never seen an alpha pop a dry knot in his trousers, and yet thats exactly what ghost just did.
....you. probably shouldn't leave him alone in such a vulnerable state, right? You should stick around in his office, close the door and makes sure he's okay.
You're just being a considerate coworker....or thats what you'll tell yourself later.
Imagine reader being the only human in werewolf!141, or you are until you have to be turned on the field. A traumatic process you seem to handle...shockingly well.
The only problem? You have no clue what is and isn't socially acceptable for a werewolf to do.
The guys aren't exactly sure how to tell you that obsessively sniffing everyone's clothes is...weird. creepy. Because you being creepy is better than remembering the way you screamed during the transformation, right?
So they let you curl up in gazs hoodie, taking a sniff to mutter "woah, I like this. You smell so good, gaz."
It's worse when you decide to do it in public, still getting used to your new heightened senses. You don't hesitate to cuddle up to soap, astonished by how warm he feels, nose tucking into his neck. Cedar, cinnamon, gunpowder and his distinct musk all filling your nostrils.
Your instincts, too, are completely out of your control. You bark and whine and huff whenever they tell you to, even when it's considered...taboo to indulge in certain instincts publicly.
Like play-biting on ghosts arms whenever they are vaguely within range of your teeth, similar to how gaz sometimes acts, but you don't mind doing it in the middle of a meeting. Though you're wiggling happily with a phantom-tail common in most recent transformations, so ghost does nothing to stop you.
Truthfully, the team is glad you're so preoccupied in your new identity. Too distracted to notice the way they've been acting odd, sneaking off more often either alone or in pairs, coming back smelling odd which only makes you want to sniff them more. They've all agreed it's best to let you figure yourself out first, what with how disorienting a transformation can be, especially one as traumatic as yours.
Because really, who was going to be the one to tell you that by werewolf standards you've been violently flirting with the entire team?
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Okay now imagine cane corso!ghost bonding with terrier!reader
You were so excited to learn you'd be with another dog hybrid, contrary to popular belief they aren't all that common in higher ranks.
For once, you get to have someone who understands you instincts and doesn't scoff at your social behaviors. You get someone to maybe-hopefully pack bond with and not have to explain what that is. You finally get someone high energy to run and play with—
And it turns out he's a giant, sleepy, boring dog.
Lieutenant riley does little more than give you a sniff when he first meets you, a sleepy rumble low in his chest before meandering off. Not what you expected, but it's still nice to bond with him.
Ghost, as it turns out, is a great packmate. He's willing to indulge your more hyper moods, and when he isn't?
"Fuckin' settle down, pup." Ghost grunts, grabbing you by the scruff and tossing you to the floor of the rec room. You barely get a moment to recover before 300+ pounds of dog hybrid lie atop you, pinning you down heavily.
Not matter how hard you bark and growl, ghost just rumbles in his half-sleep, tail slowly wagging.
Without fail, it always seems to make you sleepy too. All that high energy you can never deal with settling right down into a foggy peace, enjoying your packmate on top of you and his scent so close, your own tail wagging.
Which is how the team find you an hour later, happily sleeping under the crushing weight if ghost while he absently watches the birds outside.
Knight!Ghost who takes you home as a spoil of war.
Sir Riley is noble and well respected man. Invaluable to the King in battle. But unlike many of his brothers in arms, he had yet to be wed. Despite his stature no man had offered their daughter to him. They knew of the tales. The stories of his horrific visage and beastly temper. Sending their daughter to his bed would surely end in her demise. So he stayed unwed even in his later age.
But a man still has needs. Someone to keep his hearth burning while he was away. Keep his belly fed. A warm body to fuck at night. So no one stopped him when he lifted you over his shoulder and carried you back to his horse. Some pitying looks, but that was all.
The journey back was long. After the first few hours you seemed to accept your fate. Or at the very least stopped struggling. Perhaps you knew there was nothing you could do. Or perhaps you were keenly aware of the effect your fighting had on your new captor. A heavy bulge pressed against the small of your back as you sat in front of him. Burning despite the layers between you. Every jostle of the horse making you flushed all over. This monster. He got off on your terror.
You had a small glimmer of hope when he promised he would not take you until your wedding night. It was tradition after all.
But that didn't stop him from ravishing your body in other ways.
Pressing you to the cold stone floor, hooking a thumb behind your teeth to tug your jaw open and sliding his cock down your throat. Every gag and choke only making him groan as he used you. Muttering about how much better it felt compared to his rough, calloused hands. Spilling down your throat in only a few short thrusts. You were grateful for that at least. But it didn't stop him from coming back only a few hours later.
Or bending you over the dining table mid meal. Food smearing your corset as he shoved your skirts over your hips. Rutting like an animal between the plush of your thighs. Hot length sliding against your cunt, but never entering.
Simon would laugh and coo at the slick that spread down his cock. Making every thrust embarrassingly wet. Returning to his food once he had finished. Scarred features twisting with a grin as he watched you silently clean yourself up.
By the time your wedding night arrived you were terrified. By now you had seen his cock countless times. But you knew even the fingers you curled deep in your cunt late at night as you pictured your soon-to-be husband wouldn't be enough to prepare you for the beast.
Though the hungry look he gave you as he lifted your veil told you that he didn't care. Heat pooling low in your gut. He was already hard, right there at the altar.
You wondered if he would let you make it through the festivities before whisking you away to make you a proper wife.