Coal - Four
Pairing: Alpha!Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Omega!Reader
Summary: The chase has consequences no one could've ever anticipated..........
Warnings: kinda Primal play cause im a slut, Smut, Knotting, A/b/o dynamics, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, biting, blood (minor), language, implied violence,
Word Count: 4.6K
A/N: part four! yay!
~*~
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Laswell asks softly.
You take a deep breath then nod, looking out at the vast expanse of land in front of you.
It's an open field for a few kilometers, and then trees start to thicken.
"How long do I have?" You ask quietly, tipping your head back to gaze up at the stars littering the sky.
"About two hours 'till they wake up. Another hour and a half at most before they realize you're gone. You'd better make it count."
She slaps a stopwatch into your hand then turns on her heel and heads back inside.
Steadying yourself with one more deep breath, you start walking toward the tree line.
Your pace is steady and even, the bag on your back weighing you down only slightly.
It reminds you of the Shelter. Of their version of basic training.
All the walking, running, hiking.
At least back then you could sneak conversations with some of the other Omegas.
Now, though, you walk in silence, mind wandering far and wide as you zigzag across the flat ground until you finally reach the trees.
Risking a glance over your shoulder, you confirm no one is there, no one can see you, and then you allow yourself to disappear into the thicket of trees.
You pause purposely every now and then, rubbing your shoulder against a tree or dragging your fingers over some shrubs.
Only when the first of the birds start to chirp and the sun starts to rise do you pick up your pace, jogging through the woods and risking a glance down at the stopwatch.
Two hours left.
Which really translates to half an hour. You're almost certain they'll be able to tell something's up when they smell Laswell there.
Yanking off your coat, you rub it against a particularly thick tree, then throw it up into the branches.
Once it's stuck, you take off running.
You want to get far enough before taking a break because you know you can only run from them for so long.
You know it's only a matter of time before they find you.
Before he finds you.
Twenty minutes of running later, you finally slow to a stop and sink to your knees, yanking your backpack off and grabbing for your water bottle.
Sweat rolls down your temples, sticks your shirt to your back, and you find yourself thinking back to what Simon said that day in the gym.
The day you bit him.
Stuffing the water bottle back into your bag, you unzip your sweater and give it similar treatment as your jacket.
You pull your shirt off next, balling it up and holding it tightly as you put your backpack back on.
Starting a light jog, you continue through the trees, turning in different directions until the stopwatch beeps, signalling the end of your estimated three and a half hours.
Your stomach drops and you freeze, listening carefully for any hint of them.
You're not sure how far in the woods you are, how far from base you've made it, but you know it won't be long before they find you.
Continuing as quickly and quietly as you can, you pause only when you come across a thick puddle of mud.
You ponder your options, fear icing your veins when the sound of the birds ceases.
They're close.
At least one of them must be. And if you had to guess, you think you know which one it might be.
Keeping a tight hold on your shirt with one hand, you use the other to scoop up some of the mud and rub it on your neck, masking your scent.
Staying low to the ground, you continue on, rubbing your shirt against leaves and branches, creating a trail for him to follow.
And then you drop your bag and throw your shirt as far as you can to the left, then immediately start sprinting to the right.
It won't give you much time, but it's something.
And it works.
At least, you think it does.
You barrel through the trees, heart racing as you run through the woods in nothing more than your sports bra and yoga pants.
Briefly, you wonder if anyone else will be out here, but those thoughts are quickly squashed when you see a chainlink fence in the distance.
This is it.
End of the line.
With victory so close, you don't notice the sudden stillness in the trees around you.
You don't notice you're being hunted, closely, too, until it's too late.
An arm is wrapping around your waist and then your back is pressed to a firm chest, your feet lifting off the ground as he spins the two of you around.
A shriek leaves your lips before you can stop it, heart dropping to your feet.
"Yea, s'right. Let the others know I found you first," Simon growls, pressing his back to the trunk of a tree.
He eyes your neck, a sick smile tugging at the corners of his mouth beneath his balaclava.
"Wondered why your scent got so faint. Smart girl," he praises quietly, rubbing the mud off and tugging his balaclava up over his nose.
He presses the tip of his nose to your neck, breathing hard, and you can't help the whimper that leaves you.
"Almost made it," you whine.
He chuckles, the sound rumbling through you as he scents you.
"Almost. Gotta be faster than that, though, bunny."
The sound of a branch snapping has your head whipping up and his hand flexing on your belly possessively.
His other arm wraps over your shoulders, hand grabbing your chin and forcing your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.
Your eyes strain toward the sound, and you relax back into Simon when Soap emerges from the trees, followed closely by Gaz, with Captain Price trailing behind.
The two Betas look excited, that excitement only growing when they see the way you're pinned to the Alpha behind you, his big hands holding you firmly in place.
"Can we play again?" Soap asks, grinning wickedly.
"Simon?" Price calls, eyeing the Alpha warily.
He only growls in response, not lifting his face from your neck.
You can't find it in you to complain. This is the closest you've been to the man, you want to savour every minute of it.
While you lose yourself in the thick scent he's huffing onto your skin, the other three exchange knowing and apprehensive glances.
He's going into rut.
"C'mon, Lt. Gotta get your Omega back to base," Soap says, his voice serious.
Simon hums, his lips dragging over your neck.
"Omega."
A shiver races down your spine at his use of your title.
"S'not safe for a little thing like her out here, Lt.," Gaz chimes in. "Bring her back to base, can scent and knot her there."
At the mention of your safety, Simon's eyes snap open and he yanks his head back, scanning his surroundings then looking down at you.
Your eyes are glazed over and dreamy, and all he wants is to stuff his knot inside your tight little snatch.
But he can't. Not here. He's still himself enough to know that.
Slowly, he releases you, letting you stumble forward into Gaz's waiting arms.
The Beta steadies you, going to shrug off his windbreaker only for Simon to drape his over your shoulders instead.
You immediately bury your nose in it, taking deep breaths and moaning softly.
"Okay, let's get you out of here."
With a hand on your lower back, he leads you up beside Price as you all start the trek back.
Soap trails behind, keeping a careful eye on his Lieutenant. On his whole pack, really.
His pack. Whole now. And, hopefully, a mark will show up on that pretty neck of yours the next time he sees you.
If his Lieutenant's new attitude is anything to go off of, he imagines it won't take long.
Gaz keeps a steady hand on you the entire walk back, a smile on his lips every time his eyes flash over to your face.
Omegas have always been something of a mystery to him, and this only adds to his intrigue.
What about being scented puts you in such a mood?
Will being claimed amplify this? Is this what you'll be like forever once you wear a mark on your neck?
"Why do you keep looking at me?" You ask softly.
He chuckles, a little embarrassed at having been caught red-handed like that.
"'Cause you're pretty. I like lookin' at pretty things."
You purr the tiniest bit, leaning into him a bit more.
The other men aren't oblivious to this, they can feel it, feel the connection, the love. It makes all of them feel a little warm and tingly.
Simon especially.
As you make the trek back to base, his eyes, normally focused on his surroundings, can't leave your figure.
The motion of your hips, the jiggle of your ass, the shape of your thighs in those too-tight yoga pants.
God, he wants to pin you to the ground, tear a hole in those stupid fucking pants, and shove his knot right inside your weeping little cunt.
"Easy, Lt. Almost there," Soap's voice murmurs from behind him, a heavy hand patting his shoulder and bringing him back to the present.
Simon huffs out an agreement, straightening up and taking deep breaths through his mouth.
Almost there.
They all knew this was coming, but now that it's here they don't feel prepared enough.
Now that you're really here, their careful planning late into the night seems to have gone out the window.
Finally, the walking comes to a stop just outside of the door to the main building on base.
Your head feels a little clearer now than it did deep in the trees, and you can't help but look up at Price with wide eyes as you're struck with the reality of the situation.
This is it.
Your eyes slowly flutter over to the other Alpha.
He's going to mark you.
"Go for a shower, have some water. Johnny will keep you company for now," Price instructs, looking at Simon.
The other Alpha growls his distaste with that, a firm hand grabbing you by the back of the neck and dragging you out of Gaz's hold.
A gasp pulls from your lips at the possessive and primitive hold, the shock of it all, and a soft whine follows.
The two Betas both make noises of protest, ready to intervene, but stop when Simon growls at them again. This time, though, with malice. A warning.
"Simon," Price's voice says, ringing hard with authority.
"Let her go, go for a shower. That's an order."
The soldier fights an internal battle, struggling to reclaim control over his body.
Usually, he can feel a rut approaching for days before he's this lost to it. Now, it's taken a mere few hours to nearly lose himself to his primal instincts.
"Go," you finally whisper, turning slightly in his firm hold to look up at him with such soft eyes. "I'll be there soon."
He holds your gaze for a moment, thumb stroking over the newly accessible skin of your throat.
Oh, how soft she is, his Omega. So sweet. Not hardened by the reality of what exists out in the big bad world.
No, his sweet little thing, she's got nothing to worry her pretty little head about besides her big strong Alpha.
At the firm promise in your words he finally nods, leaning down to take one more deep breath of your scent before yanking his balaclava back over his face and heading back inside.
Soap follows immediately after him, on high alert.
Alphas, during a rut, are dangerous and unpredictable.
Simon Riley, during a rut, is downright deadly. Or at least has been in the past.
To see you so easily break through the barrier of his hindbrain was astonishing to say the least.
Johnny can't help but feel equal parts nervous and excited for this.
If this goes well, you'll officially be part of their pack. And that means the Scot will get to have a turn with you. If Simon allows it, of course.
Price and Gaz escort you back to your own room, the Alpha taking a step toward you when you get there. He pushes your hair away from your face and lets a heavy hand come to rest where your neck and your shoulder meet.
"Just a quick rinse, love. No soap or lotion, just enough to get the muck off of your pretty skin." He picks at some of the dried mud on your shoulder as he says this.
You nod obediently.
"Then... you'll take me to him?"
Price gives you a firm nod.
There are no questions, no confirming you're ready, that you want to do this.
You have no choice, really. You need to be ready for this. You have no other option but to be ready.
Your Alpha awaits.
Obeying your orders, you rinse the mud off of your skin and do what you can to make yourself look a little more presentable. Not that you think he'll particularly mind. He was more than content to scent you through the mud.
You've no doubt he would've pinned you to the dirty forest floor and knotted you there if the rest of the pack hadn't been around.
The very idea of it, of him forcing you to your knees... of him knotting you... of him.
Your inner thighs are slick when you open your door a few moments later. The heavy, musky scent of your arousal clings to your skin, and the two men each let out a low curse and take deep breaths.
Walking you through the barracks smelling like this is almost worse than dangling juicy meat over a pride of hungry lions.
But Price can't help but puff his chest out a bit more when heads snap around to find the source of such a sweet smell. Finding the source between him and Gaz has the eyes darting away just as quickly as they came.
Yes, you might be the sweetest, tastiest thing these men have ever come to dream of, but you are very clearly claimed, even without a mark on your neck.
For once, you're oblivious to the eyes on you. Your mind is far too focused on the end goal.
Each step you take makes his scent grow stronger, until your head is swimming and you're coming to a stop in front of Soap.
What he says is lost on you as you let the smoky warmth surround you.
A warm hand finds your shoulder, snapping you from your thoughts.
"He'll be getting out of the shower anytime now."
Oh.
"Should I wait?"
The three men exchange glances, but Price is the one to finally speak.
"No, s'best if you head inside. He's too far gone already, I think the chase triggered it."
A shiver ripples down your spine at the reminder of how he manhandled you in the woods.
You're not sure if you want to imagine what will happen once this door closes behind you.
"I can go in? You're sure?"
Price nods, a soft smile on his face.
"Yes, you have permission, Omega. We'll come check on the two of you in a bit." He's leaning forward and pressing a reassuring kiss on your forehead before he even realizes he's doing it.
It has the desired effect, though, and your shoulders relax away from your ears.
You nod your understanding, taking a deep breath before pushing into Simon's quarters.
The door closes softly behind you and you find yourself frozen in place for a long moment, too terrified to even breathe.
You can hear the shower running from the other side of the bathroom door.
Testing the waters, you let out the breath you were holding, only to greedily gulp down mouthful after mouthful of cool air.
His scent is so thick in here, you're completely wrapped in it.
Your lids fall closed and you start subconsciously scenting the air, taking in as much of his scent as you can and leaving your own in its stead.
It's chilly in his room, much colder than your own in both temperature and character.
He has few personal belongings, and it's clean almost to a fault.
You freeze when you hear the water shut off, heart clawing up your throat.
This is it.
What you've spent nearly your entire life preparing for.
The bathroom door opens a moment later, but you can't bring yourself to look at him. Not when you can feel the hot heavy weight of his gaze raking over your body.
You keep your eyes focused, instead, on a particularly fascinating crack in the paint.
"If you don't want to, this is your only chance."
His words are brash and to-the-point, startling you from your daze with a frown.
Instead of answering, you turn your back to him and walk over to his bed. Your fingers trace over the blanket for a moment that feels like a lifetime, and then you slowly turn around and sit down on the edge of his bed.
Without uttering a single word, you've made your choice.
The growl that rumbles in his chest drips with satisfaction.
Good Omega.
With a firm smack of his fist against the door, you hear the men behind it disperse. And with them, your only chance of escape.
He takes a few steps towards you, the top portion of his face covered in a balaclava that's been haphazardly rolled up over his nose. The only other piece of covering he's got on is a towel wrapped around his waist.
His chest is dotted with moisture, heavy muscles straining and flexing beneath your heavy gaze. His legs are firm, holding up the weight of his heavy body, the weight of the world, sometimes.
When he's standing directly in front of you he stops, brown eyes blazing.
You wait, like a good pup, for instruction.
"Stand up."
You obey, rising to your full height and staring forward at his chest.
One of his hands darts out, slides over the soft fabric of your t-shirt.
"Off." He gives it a tug hard enough to rip a stitch or two.
You shed the offending garment quickly, trying to keep your breathing steady when he makes a sound of approval.
"Bra, too."
Again, you comply without hesitation, dropping your bra to the ground and holding your arms down by your side.
Whether it's from the cold air of the room or the heat of his gaze, your nipples perk, standing at attention almost painfully.
Goosebumps rise on your arms when he lifts a heavy hand, scorching fingers dusting over the sensitive skin of your breast before dropping back by his side.
Another deep, approving rumble slips from him.
"Turn around."
This one takes a moment for your brain to understand, but finally, you turn your back on him.
All your instincts scream 'bad idea'.
Now, like the prey you are, you're completely at his mercy.
Warm, firm hands find your waist as he noses his way to your neck with a surprising amount of tenderness, breathing heavily against you as he pulls your back to his front.
You obey, soft and pliant in his arms, and tilt your head to the side to give him more access.
He scrapes his teeth against your scent gland in reward, huffing a groan into your skin when you grind your hips back instinctively.
You feel it happen, feel the towel slide down between the two of you as he pulls away, leaving only your pants and panties as the final barrier.
And even that isn't the case for long.
Before you have a moment to breathe, he's pushing you onto your hands and knees on his bed, thick fingers tearing your pants down the middle then yanking them clean off your legs.
Your panties are tugged to the side, and then he's breathing you in. Face smushed against where your thigh meets your ass huffing hot, heavy breaths against your core while his big hands hold your thighs firmly in place.
"Fuckin' soaked," he murmurs lazily, roughly, tongue darting out to get a taste of you.
You gasp, back arching and pushing your pussy into further into his waiting mouth.
He smacks his lips a few times, savouring the sweet erotic taste of his little Omega's tiny wet cunt.
"Tasty little thing, too. And all f'me, hmm?"
You mewl, nodding your head while curling your hands into desperate little fists.
They never prepared you for this in the Shelter.
Never in all your years did anyone even suggest that an Alpha may drop to his knees behind you and feast on you like an animal starved.
He pulls you apart, spreads you open between your thighs then dives right in, devouring you thoroughly.
Your toes curl as his mouth works your core, and you feel a warmth grow in the depths of your belly.
Just as the warmth starts to crescendo, he pulls his mouth away and gives your ass a harsh smack.
You yelp, turning your head to glare at him through teary eyes only for your breath to catch in your throat at the sight of him.
His eyes are dark, pupils overtaking his irises. His mouth is open as he pants hard, lips covered in your slick as his glistening chest rises and falls quickly.
What really catches your attention, however, is something a little lower than that.
Between his legs standing proud and heavy, thick and angry at the tip, weeping precum.
His eyes are focused on your face, cock twitching when he sees your eyes widen.
"Too late to back out now," he growls out while rising to his feet behind you. He takes hold of the hefty base in his hand, smacking the tip against your messy wet folds, then slides through a few times to coat himself in your slick.
A soft moan tumbles from your lips and you nuzzle your face into the blankets once more.
"Good girl."
The mewl that begins leaving you gets abruptly cut off by a choked gasp when he notches the tip inside of your wet hole, then smoothly thrusts as deep as he can.
You lurch forward, hips stuttering away from the sudden intrusion, which only angers the Alpha standing behind you.
He grabs you firmly, one hand on your shoulder and the other pressing down on your waist - forcing a deeper arch in your hips.
Rocking his hips once to test the waters, he's quick to pull out and roll right back in when another gasp tears out of you.
He's big. He knows that. He'd be stupid if he didn't. And, somewhere deep in the thinking part of his brain, he realizes that you're more than likely a virgin, if the stories of the Shelter are anything to go off of. He knows he should take his time with you, work you open around his fingers and his mouth first before stuffing his cock inside of you.
He knows that.
Unfortunately, that part of him is buried beneath the deep primal urge he feels coursing through his veins.
A voice coming from the deepest part of his being screaming 'knot' 'breed' 'mate'.
It's that voice that pistons his hips, heavy balls smacking your throbbing clit with every thrust.
Your mouth drops open, drool spilling out onto the blankets beneath you as he fucks you stupid.
It hurts but the fiery pain mixes with the heat of pleasure rolling through you and you can do nothing but lie there, pliant and so pretty, taking his fat cock.
The sound of skin on skin is drowned out now by soft mewls and heavy pants as he fucks his way into your tight hole. He carves a space out, one fit for his cock and his alone.
You babble incoherently as he fucks you hard and deep, hands sliding behind you to grab at his thighs, in desperate need of something to ground you.
He snarls at the contact, eyes rolling back into his head as he fucks into you like his life depends on it.
And maybe it does.
His hands are heavy and warm against your body, the one on your shoulder sliding down over your spine then coming to smack your ass roughly.
You whine at the impact, arms limp at your sides as he spreads your cheeks, heavy-lidded eyes watching with ridiculous intrigue as your cunt grips his thick length.
The tight ring clings to his cock, the stretch visible with every thrust of his hips.
"Fuckin' hell... tightest little thing... G'nna take my knot, yea?"
A shiver races down your spine and your walls clamp down around him, squeezing so tightly he thinks he may go blind.
"Sweetest little cunt... my fuckin' Omega... All mine."
You whine, gushing around him audibly.
"Yours, Alpha... all yours."
A heavy growl rolls out of him, and then he's on top of you.
His chest blankets your back, warmth engulfing you as his tongue laves over your bond spot.
"G'nna mark you," he murmurs, huffing heavy breaths against your skin.
His arms wind around you, holding you in a headlock. It's loose enough for you to breathe, but tight enough for you to go completely lax in his arms.
Your eyes roll back as his hips meet your ass with more purpose, sure to leave bruises. You can hardly focus on that, however, when you feel the thick ring of muscle at the base of his cock start to thicken.
Your walls flutter with the anticipation of it, and Simon moans into your neck. The sound is broken and hoarse and lights your nerves on fire.
"So good f'me. Gonna take my knot? Hmm? Gonna let me fill you with pups? Wanna breed you, Omega."
His hot words are breathed against your throat, and you drop your head further as a sob tears its way out of your chest.
"Please," you moan, jaw slack and eyes hazy as his hips speed up.
With every thrust, his balls kiss your clit and you feel the warmth in your belly start to build again.
That combined with the bullying way he pounds against your cervix has you babbling nonsense while your toes curl.
A light sheen of sweat covers your skin, heavier in the places where your bodies meet, and it only adds to all the senses surrounding you.
You tiptoe the edge of overstimulation as your release finally, finally washes over you.
It tightens like a band, then snaps suddenly, and your ears ring.
Your vision goes dark and all that surrounds you is him.
His breath on your neck, his skin on your skin, his scent clouding your head.
His cock in your womb, his knot catching in your tight cunt, and his seed spraying your walls.
His teeth, sinking into your neck and his voice rumbling deeply against you as he finally claims you.
When you come to, the two of you are still connected, his knot heavy inside of you and his tongue licking over the wound in your neck.
You're no longer on your knees, though. Instead, your back is to his chest and both of you are tucked on your sides, comfy on his bed.
His body heat is enough to keep you warm, for now, and you snuggle into it the tiniest bit more.
"Thank you," you whisper, words slurring with the residual haze of your climax. Of your bonding.
He says nothing, only presses the tiniest, sweetest kiss to the new mark on your neck.
"Mine."
