S.A.U.S Records

Ghost has long since lost care for normal social conventions. He's the alpha who stinks up the place because he can't be bothered to wear scent blockers, not like anyone else on base does either. He growls when he wants to and with his freakish size is more than willing to push people around. Everyone knows about ghost, how could you not?

What people don't realize is just how in tune he is with others emotions and scents.

He acts like he doesn't care in the hopes people would stop fucking shoving their scent at him, yet they still do. In a base full of too many alphas and omegas, he almost always has a migraine from everyone else's scents.

Well. Everyone but you.

You, the mechanic that absolutely refuses to share shop space and is too skilled to really replace. You're also a beta. A fact that ghost became distinctly aware of when he had to get your signature on some paperwork after he totaled a humvee.

Even as you reamed ghost for the state he turned the humvee in, yelling and waving your hands, your scent never once left that bland neutral so many betas possessed.

The entire time you spent yelling at him, ghosts head didn't hurt once. It was like bliss that left him rumbling in delight and you calling him a freak.

Now, you're essentially ghosts mental reset button.

If he's not loitering in your shop all day, then he's popping in every few hours to shove his nose into your neck.

No, he doesn't care who else is around when he does it. They're not the ones with a splitting migraine, are they? He makes up for it with snacks and buying you random shit, so you let him do what he needs.

Once, when you were waiting in line for lunch, everyone tensed and stepped away only for ghost to be at your back. Wrapping thick arms around your middle and nuzzling into your scent glands with a rumble. You nipped at him more out of habit than correction, but let him get his fill in the middle of lunch, not like you care either way.

You recently bought some new perfume, a thick rich scent that only serves to amplify your own natural musk, and ghost is obsessed.

Worse than that is how you love to reapply it all the time, subtle to humans but he's practically choking on that delicious scent from you. Anything of his that you touch picks up the scent, as if you were some coy wolf trying to get a sense of ghosts mating prospects.

He raises his brow when you stay back after a meeting to reapply, hovering just a touch too close so he can smell the minute change it takes on upon touching your skin "new perfume, sergeant? It's nice."

"Hm? Oh, yeah! I like the earthy stuff," you tell him, dropping the tiniest bit of oil onto your wrist and rubbing them together. The sight has ghosts stomach turning, knowing if you were a wolf hybrid the room would reek from that action. "Do you want to try some? It's pretty strong."

"Hm—?" Before ghost can even speak, you're already slipping a hand under the hem of his balaclava to rub a bare wrist into the skin of his next. "Fuck–! Ohh...hm....!"

A deep, pleased rumble spills out of ghost, and not seconds later you're being pinned to the meeting table, ghosts whole body on top of yours with lidded eyes. "christ love, do thst again."

"What...ghost?" You mumble, dazed, hand still under the mask. "I– I mean– you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Ghost whines, ears pinning. A large, clawed hand wraps around your forearm, manually moving your wrist against his skin. His whole body shudders "fuck! Mhhh keep going. Like that."

"Holy– is this like...a thing for you?" You grin, ignoring the stretch of your thighs being pushed so far apart for him to grind his bulge against you. Ghost rumbles and grunts, all animal.

He couldn't explain the fact you're practically claiming him as your mate, or at least your breeding bitch, not like you'd care much when his eyes go all glossy under the mask "please– please, love, please. I need–"

"Go on, ghost, I want to see this." You urge. that one chat about soaps partners coming to mind, you shove a hand into ghosts pants and wrap a firm grip over his knot.

"Fuck! Holy– hmmm! Thank you!" He pants, tail thrashing behind him. You watch, enraptured, as a large wet patch forms in the front of his jeans. Christ, that's a lot of cum.

The day you wax it is the day he fears. He'll brush over the skin with sad puppy eyes wondering where his little forest went...then get distracted by the thought of glazing it with cum. Horny bastard.

Feral who always sees Ghost in his whole get up. You see his mask more than you ever see his face. The few times he takes off his mask are rare and very far apart. Feral who, while in the middle of one of these episodes of theirs, happens across Ghost without his mask. He smells familiar, but the scent doesn't match with the face. You have no name to go with the man standing in front of you, giving you orders about doing something. You can't really grasp or remember any of the words coming out of his mouth.

"You good, puppy teeth?"

Is he talking to you? You don't ever remember going by 'puppy teeth', the name sounded condensing and insulting.

The blonde man stares down at you with furrowed brows. His own look of confusion reflecting yours, the way you were looking at him as if you've never seen him before. Similar to the first time you guys met, confused and on edge. Defensive and with the restriction to keep yourself from growling.

Oh... yeah.

Simon reaches into his pocket and pulls out the balled up black fabric and pulls it over his face. He watches as your confusion goes from defensive to simply confused. Completely forgetting about the stranger that was standing in Ghost's place.

"Where you going, kid?"

You blink slowly. And Ghost makes a sound of understanding. What was he understanding? You're confused. He gently places a hand on the back of your neck.

Think about a mission that didn't go smoothly, and instead a mission that went to absolute shit. The only relief found afterwards is that no one died. Soaps ear is ringing from a too close shot, Ghost has a medic working on removing a bullet from his side, and you're having your head injury checked. Your eye is bloodshot and a nasty bruise taking up half your face. You don't really remember what happened, just that you woke up after Ghost had hauled you out of there. Despite all of this though, everyone is told that after some time spent healing, they'll be fine.

And for a while that seems to be true. The bruise lasted for a couple of weeks, but eventually went away and with it went any sign of what had happened. Sure, the mission went to shit, but everything is okay now and it won't be allowed to happen again.

So it's all that more frightening when you start experiencing these...episodes.

The first time was the most terrifying and the worst, you struggle to remember what all happened but you faintly remember the way your body had started to jerk and twitch in an uncomfortable way while you laid in your bunk. You don't remember how long it lasted. You don't remember just how bad these spasms got, nor do you really remember any of them besides for the ones that happened just before you came out of it.