#crcb

His hands are shaking still as he makes his way to the rec room. He slams the door of the fridge a little too hard after pulling out a cold water bottle. He tosses the cap in the garbage before chugging down the almost icy water, letting it numb his throat and make him dizzy from the cold. His stomach hurts, but he doesn’t mind the pain. He needs it, the distraction it can bring to the turmoil in his mind. 

He crumples the empty bottle in his hand, warping it into some sick imagery of how his insides feel. Twisted and compressed. He lets out a slow breath, fighting the urge to vomit. 

The bottle clanks as it hits the side of the trash can, his mind replaying the sound over and over to replace the thoughts swirling. Deep breaths. Clear your head. 

He leaves the rec room, heading back towards Price’s room. He’ll want to head out to breakfast soon, no doubt. Despite it being a day off for everyone, Price will want to make sure you’re fed soon. The last thing they need is a grumpy, snappy omega on their hands. 

Simon’s not quite sure he could handle seeing your pout right now. 

The hallway stinks, and it doesn’t take him long to realize why. You’re standing frozen, halfway between Price’s door and your own. You’re still just in your baggy shirt, legs out on display for everyone to see. It’s not often you show them off, though the barracks aren’t always the warmest place. 

Your eyes flicker to him as he slowly approaches, the air tinged with scent of anxiety and fear. His steps are careful, like he’s approaching a wild animal. You’ve obviously been deep in your head again, lost in thought as you always are. It’s practically a character defect, he thinks. It’s going to get you hurt one day. You’ll freeze, deep in thought in the wrong place. It worries him sometimes, thinking about you stopping in the middle of the road, or god forbid, the middle of a fight when you should be running. You’ll get lost in your head and it’ll be the last thing you do before a bullet tears through your chest-

No. 

He’s not going to entertain those thoughts. 

You meet his gaze as he approaches, almost making his steps stutter. He’s not sure you’ve ever directly looked him in the eyes, certainly never that boldly. He’s used to submission, to a hesitation in your gaze, as if you’re wondering what he might do if you look too long. That’s gone now, your gaze unwavering as you stare at him. It’s not a challenge, not a push against those boundaries that separate your status from his. You’re just looking at him in a way you never have before. 

He keeps his gaze locked on yours, refusing to drop his gaze even as you sink your teeth into your lip. He slows to a stop as you begin to move, approaching him bravely. Your steps are quick, bare feet slapping against the tile as if you’re trying not to talk yourself out of such a bold and brave action. 

Your body is tense, but not in the way he would expect if you were going to fight him. He knows what you look like when you’re ready to spring at him, when you’re ready to try and fight. Regardless, you’re not a threat to him. He could take you down easily, break a leg or an arm and immobilize you without even straining a single muscle. Price would never forgive him, none of the members of his pack would forgive him if he did such a thing to their precious omega. 

He holds his breath as you get closer, not stopping where he thought you might. You pass your normal cordial distance, pushing right past that boundary. He tenses as you get close enough to feel the warmth radiating off your body, his back going straight as a board as you wrap your arms around him. 

His mind goes blank, as if you’ve flipped some kind of switch. The swirling thoughts are gone, the worry, the turmoil. Everything is quiet as you hug him, your body pressed up tight against him. He can feel everything, the softness of your form as you stand there, clinging to him like he might be the last alpha in the world. 

The scent of strawberries and caramel pierces straight into his brain, sickeningly sweet and yet there’s a soft familiarity about it. His alpha purrs quietly in the back of his mind, the sound nearly slipping out. He doesn’t purr. He hasn’t purred in years. Decades. Not since he was a kid, purring with Tommy in their makeshift nest to try and calm each other. 

Christ, how dangerous you really are. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice hoarse with the emotions he’s trying to hold back. 

“Hugging you.” You say, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. It is. Most people hug each other without thinking about it. Your arms tighten just slightly around him, squeezing your body against his. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.” 

He lets out a quiet sigh. So that was what this was about. He wonders how you found out. He must have not been quite as subtle about it as he thought he was, and Johnny must have picked up on it and put the pieces together. His smart little beta, always so in tune with him. He would have preferred it to stay private, hidden away until they both forget about it, but of course, Johnny would tell you, probably as an excuse for his actions earlier. It’s better than the alternative. 

“It’s fine.” He says, lifting hand to awkwardly pat your back. Your shirt is slightly damp with sweat from the sauna that had become Price’s room. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.” 

“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say, the words coming out far too easily. “That should be enough reason.” 

His muscles tense again at your words. You are right. You’re all part of the same pack at the end of the day. He has a responsibility, an expectation as the second alpha, even if you’re not his omega. 

You nuzzle your face against his chest, a cloud of your scent punching him in the face. His mind goes cloudy, his vision blurring for a moment at the intensity of raw, purebred omega assaulting his nose. A quiet sound rumbles through your chest, vibrating into him. 

You’re purring. 

You’re also getting scent drunk. 

He puts his hands on your shoulders, forcing you back away from him before you get completely lost in your head. The last thing he needs is a scent drunk omega clinging to him. That’s not exactly how he wants to spend his day off. 

You blink up at him slowly, the haze beginning clearing from your eyes. There’s a stupid grin on your face, a slight lift of your lips speaking volumes of how content you are. It sends a shiver down his spine, the back of his brain prickling. His alpha wants to let you roll around in his scent, cover yourself in it and let you walk around wearing it like perfume. Those alphas in the mess wouldn’t pass so closely to you if you smelled like him and Price. One alpha is good protection. Two alphas is like a steel wall, keeping out any intruders still stupid enough to try. 

“At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles, forcing the thoughts away. 

He ignores the way your grin turns into a smile, shifting past you to make his way to Price’s room. 

“Ghost?” You say before he gets more than five steps away. 

He freezes on the spot for a second. Your voice has changed. Gone is the soft confidence, even the giddy scent-drunk energy has been sapped from your being. He turns to face you, his brows pulling together as he frowns. You’re afraid. 

“What?” He asks, listening in the quiet hallway for what it is you’ve sensed. You’ve picked up on something, something big enough to have you on edge that quickly. 

“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, almost as if you’re getting ready to take off running. 

A shiver runs down the back of his spine as he glances between you and the door. If he had been an animal, his hackles would have raised in warning. Something’s got you on edge, something’s made you this afraid to even open your door. He knows the severity of entering an omega’s nest unwelcome, invading that sacred space. Something’s happened, something has made you feel unsafe in these barracks, yet you haven’t said a word, acting like nothing’s wrong when very clearly things are not as fine as you’re pretending they are. 

His steps are slow as he approaches, trying not to make too much noise. He had been awake enough last night, he would have known if someone entered the barracks uninvited. Price would have noticed too, would have picked up on it first when he got up. “What is it?” He asks, not wanting to prod too much and have you shut down. 

You shake your head, staring at your closed bedroom door. “Just a feeling.” 

He puts himself between you and the door, slowly wrapping his fingers around the handle. There’s no tension, no push-back as he turns the knob slowly. No one’s set a trap on the other side. He takes a breath before flinging the door open, his eyes scanning the room quickly. It’s dark inside, the stench of fear and omega the only things wafting through the air. There’s no one inside, no one that he can see, no one that he can smell, not even the burn of scent blockers. He relaxes just slightly, turning to face you. The turmoil you had gone through in their absence must have really been that bad if you were reacting so negatively to nothing. 

“Nothing.” He says to ease your fears, even though he can see the relief on your face already. 

You let out a quiet sigh as you look past him into your dark room. He stays quiet, waiting for some sort of explanation as to why you’ve reacted in such a way. Something’s got you wired up, something has you on edge, and he’s suspicious it’s not just the fact you’ve spent the last week here alone. 

“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You finally say. Your voice is quiet, hesitant. Such a contrast to what it had just been minutes ago. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.” 

He doesn't quite believe you. He knows that’s at least a part of your sudden change, your regression back into a fearful omega, uncomfortable in your own space, in the space they’ve made for you. It couldn’t have been easy, being in a place that was still relatively unfamiliar to you completely alone and unguarded. You don’t know most of the people outside the walls of the barracks. You don’t know who to trust, who to go to if something did happen. He wouldn’t trust most of them not to do anything, not to try anything with a helpless omega in front of them. There was only so much the doctor could do for you, if you could even get there before someone else found you. 

His alpha rumbles in the back of his mind. They really had just left you here, defenseless and alone. 

Maybe it had been that bad for you. Maybe it did have that much of an effect on you. With how easily you get lost in your brain, he can only imagine the types of things it had come up with in their absence. 

“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and into your room. 

He stands there for a moment, watching you as you open your closet. You pay him no mind, your body tense, coiled tight as a spring as you look through your clothes. He wants to stay there, see just how far you’d push that boundary. Would you pretend like he’s not there, change your clothes right in the doorway where he could see, where all of them could see? He can imagine the fabric of your shirt lifting, revealing inch after inch of soft skin. What color panties are you wearing today? Johnny had given them a detailed description of the way your ass had looked in the lacy fabric. Are you wearing a pair now? 

Oh how he wants to see that for himself. 

He leaves your doorway, holding his breath as he makes for Price’s room. He’s not going to entertain those thoughts. He can’t. He can’t ruin you like that, infringe upon an already destabilized bond. Omegas are so delicate, so easily disrupted. Highly emotional and fragile, it’s so easy to confuse them, to hurt them even unintentionally. 

He can’t go ruining things after you had just had your entire life turned upside down by their absence. 

Did you miss him? Did you think about him at all, or had your thoughts been all about your missing alpha, and maybe the betas? Had you even noticed his missing presence, invisible in most of your life except for his looming shadow every so often. 

He wanted things that way. Who is he to complain that they haven’t been any different? 

“C’mon.” Johnny pats his shoulder. “Let’s go and get some breakfast. Bring it back here.” 

You must have asked to eat in the solace of the barracks again, just as you had yesterday for both of the meals you’d eaten. He can’t blame you. The mess is overwhelming. Always packed with strangers to you, and most of all it stinks to high heaven. A noxious mix of the scents of alphas and betas. He wouldn’t want to go to such a place in a destabilized mindset either. He doesn’t want to go now, but at least he knows how to shut it off, to clear his head, block out the noise and ignore the pressing stares, the whispers. 

It’s something he’s learned, something he’s been trained in, something he’s honed over the years. It’s not something that can be trained out of an omega, though. Not when your entire existence, your safety, relies on being able to sense the presence and intentions of others. 

***

“What happens when you have to leave again?” 

“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” Price answers your question as they enter the rec room, food in hand. 

Simon doesn’t miss the way you startle, the way you nearly fall off of Kyle’s lap. It’s Kyle’s quick reflexes and his hold on you that keep you still, your scent flaring for a moment in your fear. He can’t help but wonder what you had been talking about, what had you so distracted you hadn’t noticed their return. It’s a stark difference to how you had been last night, jumping at every sound. 

Perhaps it really was their absence affecting you so much. 

“I spoke with Kate this morning.” Price continues on, electing to ignore your strange behavior for now. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.” 

It’s not news to any of them, except you. Price had told him on their way to the mess, and by the look on Johnny’s face, he had told them earlier while they were getting dressed for the day. Price wasn’t going to take the risk of leaving you alone again like that, and Simon can’t blame him. If you’re going to react like this, if it’s going to be a crisis every time they leave, they might as well call the experiment a failure now. 

What happens if they do? 

Would they consider it a failure so quickly? Would one bad reaction to a separation leading to Price demanding they leave one man behind every time, barring a world-ending event, be enough for them to write it off as a failure? Simon would call it a failure. Had they been successful in their mission? Yes, as expected, but can they continue to be successful now knowing how their omega will react to their absence? 

What will happen if they do write the initiative off as a failure? 

Legally they can’t do much about Price’s claim on you, but of course, things are blurry with them. Could they force you apart, pull you out of the pack and hope everyone forgets and can continue on being successful? They’d have to be stupid to think something like that would work. If that was the plan should the initiative fail, they should have just never started it in the first place. They shouldn’t have started with them. 

Losing you would be the end of the pack, end of the 141.

They’d crumble, fall apart at the seams. A pack of highly trained, experienced soldiers brought to their knees by a simple omega who just exists in their lives. You don’t do anything, you don’t provide anything other than what an omega typically provides to a pack, and yet, you have them all wrapped around your finger so tightly, they would combust should something happen. 

Maybe that’s the plan all along. 

Pushing limits to see just how much it would take to break them apart. Would adding an omega be the undoing of such an efficient team? Maybe the end goal wasn’t to see if adding an omega would be a success and help with dynamics and balancing the pack. Maybe the end goal was seeing just how far a pack could be pushed before they fell apart. 

Maybe that’s why they sent all four of them so soon. 

Maybe they’ve already been proven right.

You’re not eating because you want to. He doesn't have to look very hard to tell. Your bites are small, the lift of the spoon to your mouth slow. Even the way you’re chewing is different. Normally you eat like Johnny does on a return from a deployment. A man starved and desperate for hot food, even if it’s coming from a cafeteria. You’re picking at your food more than you are eating it, putting on a show to try and convince the two betas you’re squished between that nothing is wrong, trying to avoid the fretting you’ll likely be subjected to should they notice you’re acting differently. 

You’re hiding something. 

His eyes follow you, all of their eyes follow you as you lean forward, wiggling yourself free enough to grab the remote off the coffee table. The silence in the rec room is cut off as some morning talk show pops up on screen. 

“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims dramatically. 

Simon is surprised he hadn’t reached for the remote first. 

You pass the remote to him, happy to let him scroll through the channels. You lean closer into Kyle as you continue to pick at your food, slowly clearing the food from your tray. It’s not hard to miss the downturn of your lips as you force the food in. If you left anything, it would raise too many concerns, too many questions. They’d become too aware and start asking questions. 

He’s aware. 

He’s noticed. 

But you’re not thinking about him.

Why would you? 

He wants to ask. He wants to corner you and force the truth out. He could. It wouldn’t be hard. You’ve already shown your submission under him many times during training. You’d give in quickly and he can imagine the way the words would come stuttering out with a cascade of tears and pathetic sobs. 

You’d never forgive him, though, for pulling such a stunt, for using his status against you like that. 

He’d never forgive himself for doing that to you.

***

As the days pass, things don’t go back to normal. 

Despite the quick jump back into their routines, and your quick assimilation back into their lives, he knows things haven’t returned to how they were before they left. You’re still just as jumpy, just as distant as you were the day they got back. You’re trying to go back to normal, trying to pretend that everything is alright, yet you’re not doing well at it. At least, not well enough to fool him and Price. 

Price has noticed something’s wrong, but Simon knows he hasn’t approached you, hasn’t said anything. There’s been no confrontation by your alpha, and he’s still tempted to cross that boundary and do it himself. He knows Price is waiting for you to say something, for you to open up and go to him and confess whatever it is that’s been bugging you, that has you so tense and on edge. He’s tempted to go to Price and tell him you’ll never say anything. You’re going to pretend like everything is fine until they forget. Price will have to confront you in order to get anything out of you, and Simon is losing his mind waiting for it to happen. 

You’re putting everyone on edge, despite their best attempts to hide it, to cling to the quickly unraveling shreds of normalcy, of how things were. You take every chance to spend the least amount of time in the barracks, going to as many of their drills and training sessions as Price will allow. You’ve made a new home in the rec room, spending all your time there instead of in your room as you used to do. Even at night you avoid your space as much as you can, cycling between Johnny, Kyle, and Price. 

Your sleeping habits aren’t entirely unusual. He’d almost be more worried if you buried yourself in your room and avoided them entirely. That would raise too many questions, though, and they would notice. 

There’s still an imbalance, despite your attempts to make it seem like there isn’t. He lays awake the first night you slip into Johnny’s room with him, waiting for the telltale thump of the bed against the wall, the pathetic attempts at being quiet, the inevitable groans and moans of pleasure. 

He waits for it every night, yet there’s nothing but silence, and the occasional snore. He would have expected in your attempts for things to go back to normal, for you to seek out sex again, fall into bed with each of them and distract them with kisses and your bare tits. He had even expected for you to jump right back into Price’s arms, let him show you how much he missed you, yet there’s been no nightly noises for him to try and drown out. 

It’s not entirely your doing. Price has been twitchy too, likely feeding off of your energy. Simon has seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny gets too rambunctious, the way he hesitates in even the slightest brush of his hands. None of them quite know what to do with you, none of them quite know how to adjust to this new change in dynamic. Simon even finds himself more on edge than normal, a quiet rumbling echoing in his chest when he’s next to you in the mess and an alpha corporal passes too close to you. He can’t help it when his hand finds your back, guiding you through the crowd to the line and then to the table. 

He can’t help but like how warm you feel beneath your shirt, his hand itching to slip beneath and see if your skin really is as soft as it looks, as soft as Johnny says it is. 

Would you stop him? Or would you lean into him, let his hands roam your skin, feel for himself how soft and pliable you really are. Would you stop him if he tasted you, letting his tongue trace the beads of sweat that drip down your neck during training? What if he wanted to follow that bead of sweat all the way down your body? 

He wants to devour you, sink his teeth into you and shake like a dog. He wants to wrap his arms around you and squeeze until you sink into his skin. He wants to wrap around you like a snake, coil himself around your body until there’s nothing left to see, until he’s consumed you completely. 

The thoughts scare him. They make his hands shake, a nervous sweat breaking out across his back. He’d never hurt you, not intentionally. No matter how badly his instincts are screaming for him to chase you through the trees, hunt you down and pin you on the ground and rut into you until you’re begging for mercy. He’d never forgive himself for hurting you. He still hasn’t. He had acted purely based on emotions, and even though he knew you weren't alone, how were you supposed to know? To you, it had appeared as if he’d left you, deserted you in such a vulnerable place. He’d sent you into distress, put your life in danger, which was only further proof that he’s not capable of caring for an omega in the way they deserve to be. 

He’s not capable of caring for you. 

He runs a hand over his face, a sigh leaving his lips. It’s one of those rare afternoons where they don’t have much to do, where they can take time for themselves and do some R&R. For Simon that means doing a lot of thinking, a lot of ruminating and remembering. It’s one of those times he lets his thoughts run wild, he allows himself the chance to sink into his memories and let his mind torture him in whatever way it sees fit. 

Right now, that’s with thoughts of you.

Your door is closed, meaning you’re likely in the rec room again. He wonders what you’re doing. Reading again? What is it you’ve chosen this time? Price keeps ordering new books for you, as you’ve burned through most of the books already in the rec room. A sugar daddy, you’d jokingly called him weeks ago when they’d made that trip into town to pick up last minute things for your heat. He knows that’s just the way alphas are, the need to provide and protect is strong, and in this modern world, that means buying things for their omegas beyond just what they need. 

Omegas can’t make money, so what else can they do but ask those who can? It’s not like they don’t have money. Living on base allows them to save almost everything they make. With their pooled resources, money is hardly a concern. Even if it was, he knows a quick call to Laswell would solve those issues. You’ll never want for anything, they’ll make sure of that. 

His pack would give you the world if they could. The world, and those damn lacy panties Johnny won’t shut up about. 

He keeps talking about going and getting you more, and of course Simon is going to be forced to tag along. The last thing he wants to do is walk into a lingerie store. The mental images might be the death of him. 

It’s hard enough thinking about your ass draped in lace, the way the fabric would darken as your slick seeps through it. The way it would stick to you, revealing the outline of your folds underneath. 

He pinches his eyes closed, exhaling shakily. He can feel that warm stirring in his stomach again, the gut-wrenching twisting of desire and lust deep in his core. He breathes deeply, trying to push it away, trying to keep those thoughts hidden away, trying to suppress them deeper into his mind where they can't escape. 

There's a prickling feeling beginning at the base of his skull again. Something’s off, something’s wrong. He listens to the quiet shuffling movements of the other members of his pack in the barracks. There's nothing amiss that he can tell. No intruder, no threat to the safety of his pack. Maybe he's just worked up. Maybe he does need a vacation, a break from everything. He's too on edge himself, too paranoid and he doesn't even know why. 

Until a shrill scream cuts through the silence of the barracks. 

NEXT ->

He had been expecting the knock. It wakes him immediately, almost before it stops. His mind is aware instantly, senses heightened and focused on the room around him.

It's late, just past midnight. He hadn't been asleep long, a couple hours at most. He pushes himself up to sit running a hand over his face. 

It's time. 

He knows even before he opens the door, coming face to face with Kyle. He can smell it on the younger beta, the hint of sweet omega scent coming off his clothes. 

“She's ready.” Kyle says, stepping back out of the doorway. 

John lets out a breath before stepping from the room, closing his door behind him. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to. Kyle gives him a nod of understanding before he slips into the room, blinking as the scent slams into him like a truck. 

It's almost overpowering, rushing to his head and his cock instantly. Sweet, sweet, tantalizing omega, the overwhelming scent of arousal and lust in the air. His eyes dilate as he stares at you, humping the bed like a needy pup, desperate for something only he can give you. 

“Look at you.” He says, voice thick with his own arousal, his instincts driven wild by the scent of omega in heat. 

Mate mate mate mate

His alpha screams it over and over as he approaches the bed, watching the way your hips move against the mattress. Fucking beautiful, the way you move. Your skin is slick with sweat and he can see the shine of your juices between your thighs. He wants to bite the curve of your ass, sink his teeth in until you bleed for him. He wants to bite you all over, leave marks across your skin showing everyone who dares to look who you belong to. 

Soon, he tries to appease his alpha clawing at the back of his mind to be let out, to take control. 

To take the needy omega so desperate for him. 

“Needy little thing.” He says, setting his phone on the nightstand before pulling off his shirt. 

He feels warm, the heat blooming beneath his skin probably nothing compared to the fire burning beneath yours. He can see the agony you have to be in, in the way your hips drag against the mattress, the shine of slick on your thighs. The way your eyes trail over his body like a starving animal. 

He reaches out to touch you, placing a hand on your back. Your skin is burning, so much so he’s almost shocked there’s no steam coming off of you. He drags his fingers along your spine, skin still soft despite the sweat slicking it. You arch into his touch, curving your back beautifully as he trails his fingers lower and lower. He wishes he could take a picture, capture you in this moment, seal it away forever only to be seen by his eyes. 

Your ass lifts from the bed, your movements pausing so you can press into his hand, a smile tugging at his lips. He fights the urge to give it a squeeze before he dips lower, tugging your thighs apart. A wave of sweet omega scent washes over him, blood rushing south so fast it almost leaves him dizzy. He groans, hands leaving you to slip under the hem of his sweatpants. They’re too tight, the offending material doing nothing to help ease the ache beginning between his own legs. 

“Let me see you.” He growls, his alpha clawing harder at the back of his mind. He’d jump on you now, but he wants to take his time, be patient. Savor this moment. 

You’re distracted, he can tell immediately as he slides his sweatpants off. You’re practically drooling as you stare at him, eyes glued to his cock. He’s hard and throbbing, the need strong within him. Normally he’d find your distraction and awe adorable, but he’s beginning to grow desperate, wanting to at least get a taste before his alpha takes over and devours what’s his. 

His palm stings as it meets the skin of your bare ass, the sound cracking through the room. You let out a gasp, your body jolting as you’re pulled back into reality. 

“I said, present for your alpha.” He says, his voice rumbling with his inner alpha as it begins to slip out, as the careful control he has over it begins to wane, driven by the scent of omega in heat. 

You let out a whimper that makes his cock throb, scrambling up onto your hands and knees like a good omega. He moves onto the bed behind you, putting himself face to face with your glistening pussy. It’s puffy and swollen, dripping with need. He licks his lips, wanting to press forward and bury himself in your folds until he drowns in your slick, but he keeps the reins tight on what little control he still has over his body. 

“Good girl.” He rumbles in praise, his alpha preening at your pleased whine. 

He reaches out, smoothing his hands over the curve of your ass, the skin on one cheek still warm from where his hand made contact. You probably can’t feel much of anything right now, and for that he’s grateful. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but it’s hard with his alpha chomping at the bit to take over and lose himself in you. 

He parts your pussy with his thumbs, slick dribbling from you as he stares at you. He lets out a groan, dragging his thumb along your slit, gathering slick on his finger. “So fucking slick for me.” 

“For you alpha!” You gasp, the words only fueling the need within him. 

A low rumble vibrates in his chest as he drags his thumb through your folds again, pausing over your clit. Your gaps breaks into a whimper as he presses against the sensitive bud, your top half relaxing down onto the bed as you start to move your hips against his hand. He holds still, watching you as you take your pleasure from him, working yourself up from just a finger on your clit. He’s tempted to stay there, see if you can cum with just that. You probably could, with the desire that has to be burning through you, but it won’t be enough. You’ll be just as needy on the other side of that orgasm. 

“Please! Please!” You beg, voice breathy and whiny. 

It’s like music to his ears as he watches your legs begin to tremble, more and more slick gushing from your pussy. He wants to lean in and taste it, taste you and your slick. He already knows what you taste like outside of your heat, having devoured your pussy before, but he wants to taste you like this, at the height of your desire. 

“Eager little thing.” He says, leaning in closer to your folds. Your scent intensifies the closer he gets, drool almost slipping from his lips. He’ll never think of the scent of strawberries the same after this. 

The moan you let out as his tongue finally drags through your folds is downright salacious. He nearly lets out one of his own as he finally gets a taste of your sweet slick. His tongue goes for your opening, knowing he can’t make you cum like this, but he’s desperate for a taste of your sweet nectar straight from the source. He closes his mouth around your pussy, slurping at your slick as his tongue prods at your entrance, slipping into your quivering walls. 

You give a violent shake as he applies more pressure to your clit, drawing tight circles around it in the way he knows you like. He groans against your pussy, eyes almost rolling as his alpha slips through more and more, drawn out by the scent and taste of you on his tongue. He can hear it in the back of his mind, a steady thought pulsing in time with his cock. 

Mate. Mate. Mate. 

Your body jerks as your orgasm hits you suddenly, legs nearly giving out if it weren’t for his hands steadying you. Your pussy flutters around his tongue, slick spilling around his mouth, soaking his face and wetting his beard. He doesn’t stop as your orgasm rocks through you, too lost in the taste of you and the sounds you're making to care. There’s no clarity, no moment where you return to your head with this one. It’s not what you need. He knows that, and you know that as you desperately grind against his face, practically trembling as he builds up another orgasm. He could wring 20 of them out of you right now and it still wouldn’t be enough, it still wouldn’t satiate the need burning through your body. 

“Alpha!” You whine, pressing back against his face. 

He growls, earning a desperate whimper in response. You’re so needy, so desperate for what he can give you, what your omega needs. He pulls away from your pussy, licking your juices and slick from his lips. It’s coated his face, but he doesn’t care, savoring the taste of you on his tongue one last time. 

Your body offers no resistance as he sinks two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping tightly around the digits as if they might be the thing that will give you relief. He can’t help the groan that escapes as you squeeze around him, imagining how you’re going to feel around his cock. So warm and wet and tight. His cock throbs almost painfully, an orgasm threatening to wash over him at just the thought of being inside you like this. He won’t let it happen, though. He won’t let himself cum untouched like some needy pup, some inexperienced alpha getting a taste of a slick omega pussy for the first time. 

You deserve better than that. 

“Please, alpha!” You whine, bucking against his fingers as he continues to pump them into you. “Hurts.”

He shushes your needy whines, the wet squelch of your pussy loud in the room as he fucks you with his fingers. The sounds become even more obscene as you cum around his fingers, slick dribbling onto the sheets below. It’s still not enough, your body rocking back onto his fingers in search of what you need. He holds his hand still as he watches you move, as he watches you fuck yourself on his fingers. He should take pity on you, slide his cock into your waiting pussy and fuck you until you’re spread open around his knot. He can imagine it, the way your pussy will look bulging with his knot. 

He lets out a groan, tugging his fingers from inside you. He curses as he watches your pussy pulse with the aftershocks of your orgasm, like it’s trying to pull his cock in. He drags his fingers through your folds, spreading slick and your release across the flushed skin. 

“Tell me what you need.” He says, voice raspy as his alpha takes over, ready for what’s going to happen next. 

Sweet, sweet relief. 

“Need your knot, alpha.” You say, the prettiest whine lacing your voice as you push your hips back, seeking out his cock. “Please.” 

A pleased rumble leaves his lips at your politeness, even in this state. He lines himself up behind you, his hands smoothing over your hips. Your skin is slick and damp with sweat, shining in the light of your lamp. He wants to take a picture of you like this too, shining and slick and ready for him. Poised right at the perfect moment, ready for him to do his job and take care of you like a good alpha. 

One of his hands holds your hips, holding you still as the other wraps around the base of his cock. He lets out a quiet sigh at his own touch, finally giving his cock some attention. He drags his tip through your folds, gathering your slick on his head before he presses against your entrance, your body opening for him eagerly as he slips into you easily. There’s no resistance this time, aided by your slick as he sinks deeper and deeper into you until he can’t go any further. You shudder beneath him, sighing in relief as you finally get what you’ve been craving. 

His hands close tight around your hips, holding you steady as he begins to move, rocking his hips into you. His gaze is where your bodies meet, watching his cock slide in and out of your body. He shifts his position until his legs are outside yours, sinking even deeper into you until his hips press flush against your ass. He wants to reach down, he wants to feel the bulge of him inside of you, but he doesn’t. He’ll save that for later. 

Right now, he just needs to fuck you and pump you full of his seed. 

You brace against the bed as he picks up speed, your instincts taking over as you rock back to meet his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping skin is lewd, but neither of you care as he fucks you, his thrusts sharp and angled to hit that spot inside of you. He needs you to cum again, at least one more for him before he can cum, before he can give you his knot. 

His hands tighten around your hips. You’ll wear his handprints there for a few days afterwards. You’ll be sore and aching, but so will he. He’s going to take good care of you, giving you what you need, what your body craves. He’ll fill you up and make you fat with his pups. 

And you’ll take it all like a good omega. 

Another orgasm rips through you, making him stutter. You’re a vice around him as your pussy flutters, trying to squeeze his own orgasm from him. He won’t give it to you, not yet. He’s not done, nowhere near done for this first time. He holds you up as your legs give out, body going boneless as pleasure continues to wash through you. He pushes back against the instincts, against the desire, against his knot threatening to swell at the base of his cock. 

He’s not ready. Not yet. 

Sweat coats his skin, sliding down his face and neck at the effort as he continues to fuck you, his movements fast and sharp still. You turn your head to look at him, face pressed into the sheets. Your face is slick with sweat and drool, pupils wide as you moan, body rocking with every slam of his hips against your ass. He wants to commit this to memory too, the look of you so entirely wrecked by him. 

He hasn’t even given you his knot yet.

His eyes zero in on your neck as you shift, a buzz beginning beneath his skin. He can feel it, the desire, the urge to sink his teeth into you and claim you as his. He wants to mark you, not just with his knot. He wants to show the world that you’re his, that you belong to him and his pack. You’re his omega. His. He’s going to prove that to everyone. 

He needs you to turn, to bare your throat to him, to show the ultimate sign of submission. Prove your trust in him, prove your loyalty to him and his pack. There’s no going back, there’s no changing your mind after this. He needs you to give in, to give him what he wants before he’ll give you what you want. 

“C’mon.” He growls, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. Not tight enough to hurt you, but just enough to convey what he wants from you. “Give it to me.” 

You let out a whine of submission, pushing yourself onto shaky, unsteady arms. He pushes your braids to the side as he leans down, your head tilting for him, bearing your neck to him. The primal urge to sink his teeth into you burns beneath his skin, almost as hot as your heat burns through you. You’re so warm underneath him, skin sticking together as he flattens himself against your back. He doesn't stop his movements, snapping his hips into yours as both of you get close to what you need. His cock is swelling uncontrollably, pleasure numbing his brain as he catches on your entrance. So close. So close to what he wants. 

“Please.” You whimper, arching against him, tilting your head even further as his lips drag along your shoulder, tasting your salty skin. “Please alpha. Wanna be yours.”

He drags his teeth across your skin, body practically vibrating as you ask him for it, you give your permission for him to take you. He nearly cums from the thought as he presses his face into your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. His eyes flutter as he groans, a growl rumbling in his chest. 

“My good omega.” He praises you. 

You are his good omega. You haven’t done anything to prove otherwise. Since the first day he met you, you’ve been the perfect omega. His pack is happy with you, his boys are happy with you. He can see it, the love beginning to form for you, the desire they feel. They want you, just as he does. 

“My good girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck right next to your scent gland at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Gonna take my knot like a good omega? Let me fill you up with pups as I make you mine?” 

You let out a high pitched whine at his words, trying to press your neck closer to his mouth. He lets out a content rumble. You want  it. You want him to do it, to claim you. “Please, alpha!” You beg desperately. “Please! Wanna be a good omega.” 

The sound of your pleas rush straight between his legs, his alpha purring contently in his brain. His mouth almost aches with the need to sink his teeth into you, his cock throbbing painfully. He slips an arm under your body to hold you up as he curses under his breath, giving into the instinct, into his own need. Your pussy flutters around him as he presses his knot into you, pushing in until you’re filled. He swells just slightly more to lock you into place, your walls squeezing around him as you cum from his knot. 

A pleased growl rumbles through him, his mind going fuzzy as he sinks his teeth into your skin, the coppery tang of blood hitting his tongue as he breaks through. You let out a high-pitched cry, letting the world know what’s just happened as he claims you, marking you as his. 

Your body writhes as another orgasm hits you suddenly, his arm tightening around you to keep you still as you pull on his knot. He growls into your neck as he finally comes undone, releasing into you and filling you with his seed. Your arms have given out, his hold on you the only thing keeping you upright as he pulls his teeth from your skin, gently licking over the wound he’s left behind. 

Little whimpers leave your lips as he continues to rock his hips into you, riding out his orgasm. He shushes you, gently lowering your body until you’re flat against the bed, his own body following so he doesn’t tug on the knot accidentally. 

“Easy, that’s my good girl.” He praises you, pressing gentle kisses against your skin. His voice is rough with his alpha as his brain continues to go fuzzy, all awareness leaving him as he continues to sink deeper and deeper into his rut. “My good omega. Take my knot so well.” 

He can tell you’re fading, your body going limp as the sensations become too much, a small smile lifting your lips as you bask in his praise. It’s only the beginning, a short reprieve before it starts again. He gently eases both of you onto your sides, wrapping his arms tightly around you as you sleep. He’s awake and aware, his alpha taking over to guard you from any threats that might attempt to take you from him. He’s not letting you go. 

You’re his, now and forever. 

If there’s one thing John MacTavish prides himself on, it’s his control. He didn’t become a sniper or a demolitions expert, or get hand selected to be part of a specialized task force without it. Sure, he gets needy and excited, but control is always something he’s kept. 

Until the omega arrived. 

He hadn’t expected you to drive him as insane as you have. You’ve driven them all insane. He’s felt it in their workouts and their training, pushing themselves harder to work off the tension that’s built as the weeks have passed. They’ve all been chomping at the bit. Even Simon has begun to feel it. He’s left Johnny walking tenderly more than once in the recent weeks. 

With your arrival came a new test to their dynamic, to their strength, to their control. It’s been a struggle for all of them, adapting to this new temptation, this new desire that’s changed their entire pack. They’d all like to ravish you, even if some won’t admit it. 

The true test to his control comes when you decide you’re ready to dance the horizontal tango with him for the first time. You approach him in the rec room, standing there nervously as you stare down at him. He knows what’s coming. He doesn’t have to be a genius to see it. It’s finally going to happen. Finally he can get some sweet relief to the lust that’s been plaguing him since your first time with his captain. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” He asks, reading your body language like a book as he holds a hand out to you. 

You take it, letting him ease you down onto his lap. “I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

You’re so light, so easily pliable as he shifts you in his hold. The few times he’s manhandled Simon, it’s always been a fight, a struggle against the larger man. You move so fluidly, even dead weight you’d hardly be a struggle to maneuver. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, getting lost in your eyes. He can see the nervousness, the hesitation in them. The last thing he wants is for you to think you have to do this. He may be a whiny bastard sometimes, but he’d never force you into it. That would defeat the purpose. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. He bites back a groan, trying to keep himself from getting hard as your plush ass drags across his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

Ah, so that’s the hesitation. You’re worried he feels like he has to do this, that he might come to regret it later. There’s few things in life he regrets, and this certainly wouldn’t be one of those. 

He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. You’re so soft, so different than what he’s used to. It’s been a long while since he had a barrack bunny. He hasn’t needed one since the formation of this pack. He has Simon, and now you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer.” He says. “Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

He can see the bashfulness in your face at his words, the way your eyes drop from his, unable to hold the intensity of his stare in your sheepish state. Despite your shy demeanor, your fingers still trail his face, tracing the line of his jaw. He tilts his head slightly as your fingers graze his chin, tickling his skin as you trace the scar from his near miss with some shrapnel. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips in anticipation as your fingers trace higher and higher. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, finally reaching his lips with your fingertips. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

His lips twitch into a grin as your eyes widen, catching the double meaning of his words. He and Simon were meant for each other, if only in that they’re a couple of kinky bastards. He wouldn’t push you that far this first time, though his mind begins to run rampant with the ideas of just how he can push you, test your limits, help you learn new things you’ve likely never even thought of. 

The sweetness of your scent spikes, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Excitement begins to boil in his belly at the thought of your arousal, finally getting to see and touch and taste you like he’s been imagining for weeks now. His hand lifts, gently cupping your chin so you’re looking at him again. You’re so fucking beautiful, he can hardly stand it. 

He closes the distance between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours. He can’t help but think back to the first kiss the two of you shared, when you told him it was your first kiss. He’d nearly sprouted wings and ascended straight to heaven when you revealed you trusted him that much to allow him that honor. Though you had rightfully given your alpha the honor of your first time, he’s still honored you’ve chosen him to be second. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” It’s a promise he’s determined to keep. 

You hum in response against his lips, tasting just as sweet as you smell as he slips his tongue into your mouth. His hand tightens around your waist, holding you steady as you begin to lose yourself in him. His hand slides down your neck to rest at the base of your throat, your heart racing in your chest as he kisses you. He can feel the edge of your mating mark with his thumb, the pressure against the freshly healed wound making you shudder in his arms. 

You shift against him, dragging your ass across the very prominent bulge in his pants. He’s given up trying to control it, your acquiescence the only permission he needed to let his cock be free and show his arousal. He moans quietly at the shift in pressure, the friction against his erection. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” He groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what is possible the most adorable attempt at being sexy he’s ever seen. 

It works. 

He groans deeply, the sound of his rank coming from your lips nearly drives him insane, his cock twitching in his pants. He breathes out a curse that would have his granny rolling in her grave as he stands, tossing you over his shoulder. You let out a shriek in surprise at the sudden movement before you break out in giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He closes the door behind you after setting you on your feet, watching as you look around his room. It’s your first time inside his private space, even though he’s invaded yours a number of times already.

“You draw?” You ask, studying the rough sketches and quick paintings on his wall. It’s not his finest work, most of those pieces were hanging elsewhere in the barracks. 

“Aye, in my free time.” He says, stepping up behind you. He doesn’t think you knew that about him before. He’s never brought it up, and he’s not sure it’s come up in conversation either. 

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips as you stare at his artwork. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you back against his chest. You’re so small in his arms, tucked in his grasp. He feels that protective urge settling. You’re safe here, protected from the rest of the world. “Not quite as beautiful as you.” He says, staring down at you as you tilt your head back to look up at him. 

“You're such a charmer.” You say, getting bashful again. 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, pulling your body closer so he can grind his cock against you. 

He leans down, closing the gap between you as he kisses you again. He’ll never grow tired of your lips, of kissing you. You take him by surprise as you jump, his arms just managing to catch you as he stumbles half a step back. He grips your thighs as your legs wrap around his waist, putting you face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, watching the way your tits move as you bounce on the mattress. He kneels over you, staring down at you like you’re a five course meal and he’s a starving man. He is starving. He’s been waiting so long for this, and finally it’s happening. 

Your scent continues to sweeten with your arousal, the beta in the back of his mind practically preening with the thought that he’s doing that to you. You’re responding in that way to him. 

He can’t wait anymore. He’s held off long enough. Now that you’re laid out in front of him on a silver platter, he’d be rude not to indulge. 

He makes quick work of your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans deeply, fighting the twitching of his cock as he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. He won’t prove Simon right. He won’t cum at the sight of your tits, even though he could. 

He doesn’t hesitate, breathing out a curse as he reaches for your breasts, his hands closing around them. They’re soft and warm, a quiet gasp leaving your lips as he gently squeezes the soft flesh in his hands. It’s not enough to touch, though. 

He needs to taste. 

He leans down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. He groans quietly at the taste of your skin, suckling at your nipple until it’s hard in his mouth. You let out a sweet little gasp as he works the sensitive skin, swirling his tongue around the bud and suckling at it. You’re so responsive to him, your back arching as he works you up, goosebumps forming on your skin as the cool air in the room washes over his saliva on your skin. 

He moves to the other breast, giving it the same attention as he gave the other one. He can smell your heightened arousal in the air, and can only imagine the state of your panties, if you’ve even bothered to wear any. You wrap your arms around his neck, dragging your fingernails across the back of his neck. A shiver runs down his spine at the sensation, his brain tingling as you tease the sensitive area. He can’t stop his hips from grinding against your thigh. He’s desperately clinging to any sort of resolve, any ounce of restraint he can find to keep himself from cumming in his pants already. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

Like a little mix, you repeat the motion, dragging your nails across the back of his neck. His hips buck against your thigh, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as you tease him. He nearly comes undone as you push against him with your thigh, a sharp whine escaping his lips. The things Simon would say if he were here. 

He’s not going to entertain those thoughts. Not yet. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, forcing himself away from you and up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He says, trying to redirect himself and take his mind off the pulsing boner in his pants. 

He nearly loses control again as he slips his fingers under the waistband of your pants, feeling lace beneath. He quickly tugs your pants down your legs, tossing them onto the floor behind him. His teeth sink into his lip as he stares down at your panties. You’re wearing one of the pairs he got you on your trip to town before your first time. He had hoped you’d remember, he had hoped he’d get to see you in a pair. He’d bought you several for that reason. 

His cock pulses in time with his heart as he drags his fingers over the lace, your thighs slowly parting as he dips his fingers lower. He looks to you for permission as he pauses, wanting to make sure you haven’t changed your mind. As much as it would pain him, he would stop if you decided this was as far as you wanted to go. 

To his relief you give him a nod, giving him permission to go further. He slips his fingers between your thighs, trailing the obvious wet spot on the lacy fabric. It’s soaked through, a quiet groan leaving his lips at the knowledge he did that. You’re this wet because of him. He stares into your eyes, wanting to memorize the look on your face as he works you up. He wants to know what you look like all needy and desperate, what you look like lost in your pleasure, what you look like all fucked out and cock dumb. 

He wants to draw you in every state, paint your pleasure onto a canvas so he can hang it proudly and show the world exactly what he’s done. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans as you buck against his hand. He finally moves his fingers, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you and your smart mouth. He’s seen glimpses of it, how quick witted and sharp you can be when you want to. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

It’s a promise. 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. He continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds in all their glory to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

His eyes nearly roll back, his hips pushing into the mattress under him as he gets his first taste of you. Like precious rainfall after a drought, his thirst has been quenched by the holy water from heaven as he drags his tongue through your folds. You let out the most delicious moans as he narrows in on your clit, circling it with his tongue before closing his lips around it. Your legs jerk around his head in response, your back arching off the bed beautifully. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

He continues to tease you, alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it. He senses the subtle shift in your scent, the tang of jealousy coming through. You can tell he’s done this before, that he’s experienced in this realm. It’s his favorite pastime, burying his face between the thighs of some barrack bunny, making her legs shake around his head until she forgets everything, even his name. 

Now he has you to elicit that kind of response from. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking desperately against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans, lapping at your juicy pussy. 

You curse, your back arching again as he continues, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your hands tug at his sheets, thighs pushing against his hands as they attempt to close around his head. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You release with a cry, flooding his face and chin with your juices. He doesn’t let up, lapping at your pussy as he licks up your sweet juices. You’re shaking, trembling from the overstimulation, but he can’t get enough. He can’t stop now. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp as he sucks at your clit again, trying to ring a second orgasm out of you. 

He’s shocked by your next move. He’s not expecting it, the action taking him by surprise. You sink your fingers into his mohawk, tugging at the short strands. He groans in response, cursing his sensitive scalp as you pull his face from your pussy. He moves with you, letting you guide him away from your center, his face glistening with your release. His tongue darts out, licking at the juices on his skin, desperate for one last taste. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. He stares down at you, your lips parted as you pant, slightly breathless from your orgasm. You look beautiful and blissed out, but there’s a sharpness behind your gaze as you stare at him. 

His little omega has some claws.

“I said that’s enough.” You gasp, your words firm and stern with authority. 

It goes straight to his head, and his cock, as he practically melts in your hold. “Yes ma’am.” He whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

He can see how much it’s driving you wild, taking control over him. He hands it over so easily, gladly letting you take charge. 

“Take your clothes off.” You command, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back on his heels, tugging his shirt over his head. He fights the urge to smirk as you ogle him, eyes raking over his skin as he reveals himself to you. He doesn't have to ask. He can smell it in the air, how much you’re liking what you’re seeing. He slips his hands down his chest until he reaches his pants, undoing the button and zipper before he tugs him down with his boxers. 

He breathes a quiet sigh of relief as his cock is finally free, standing at attention as he kicks his pants off the end of the bed. You reach for him again and he lets you guide him back up to your face. You kiss him, groaning quietly as you lick into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moves with you as you guide him onto his back, his hands immediately going for your hips, but you stop him. He stares up at you in curiosity as you smirk at him before you turn, facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your knees, a position that feels very familiar to him. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under your knees. He could easily slip out of this hold, but he doesn’t want to. 

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

He has a perfect view of your ass in this position, still bedecked in your lacy panties. He imagines you sitting on top of Simon, his hands pinned to the mat. How Simon has kept his head this long, being this close to you, he’ll never know. Simon is a far stronger man in this regard than he ever will be. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, imaging you in a different position with his alpha. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

He lets out another groan from the mental images flashing through his head, paired with the feel of your hand stroking his cock. He keeps his eyes locked on your ass, the damp spot on your lacy panties, the feel of your wet folds against his skin. Anything to keep from embarrassing himself and cumming just like this. 

He nearly loses it as you squeeze gently around him, a choked groan spilling from his lips. He nearly pulls his hands from beneath you to move you away from his cock, but he keeps his place, staying still under you. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching.

He lets out a pained whine as you lean down, dragging your tongue across his head. His hips buck, cock twitching again in your hand. One more lick and he might cum on the spot, but that’s not what he wants. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips, probably too roughly, but you offer no complaint. He needs something to help him keep his composure. 

He lets you turn yourself around, his eyes hooded and pupils blown as he stares up at you. Sweat has begun to bead on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. He’s desperate and needy for you, a direction he hadn’t expected tonight to go. 

He’s not complaining, though. 

You push yourself backwards until you’re hovering over his cock, thighs spread over his hips. He watches with parted lips as you tug your panties to the side with one hand, the other closing around his cock again. You let out a salacious groan as you sink down onto him, your hand pressing against his stomach to brace yourself. 

He nearly sees stars as you sink down onto him, so tight and wet and warm around him. He grips your hips again, squeezing to hold on for dear life as you take him deeper and deeper into your tight heat. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his stomach as you sink completely onto him, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

He can’t do anything but hold on for dear life as you begin to move, rocking your hips. Your hands press into his stomach for leverage as you move, his hands on your hips helping guide you as you take your pleasure from him. You begin to lose yourself, the sweetest whines and whimpers spilling from your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock. He groans quietly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, eyes painting this moment into his memory. You look beautiful like this, lost in your pleasure as you use him. 

He knows you won’t last long, though. He’ll have to work on building that stamina with you. Your thighs are shaking already, your movements starting to get sloppy. He continues to guide your hips, taking over as you start to fatigue. Sweat beads on your skin from the effort, but you don’t stop, continuing to push through in search of pleasure. You’re getting close again, he can tell by the way you’re clenching around him, but he knows you won’t be able to cum from this position. Not with how tired you are already. 

He pushes himself up to sit as your movements slow, easing you down onto your back on the bed. He slots himself between your thighs, folding his body over yours as he begins to move, taking over. He sets his own pace, faster than yours had been as he seeks out both your orgasm, and his own. He’s determined to make you cum first, wanting to feel you around him as he comes undone himself. 

Your back arches into him as he presses his face into your neck, breathing in the waves of scent coming off of your form. It’s intoxicating, sickeningly sweet with the musk of arousal. He wants to wear this scent all the time, if only to prove to the others who you belong to. 

“Gonna cum for me?” He grunts against your skin. “Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, cock twitching at the gentle command. 

He continues thrusting into you rapidly, sweat slicking his skin and mixing with your own. He wants to remember this moment for the rest of his life. The scent of you, the taste of your skin, the feel of you around him, squeezing his cock as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

He nearly blacks out as you cum, squeezing tightly around his cock. You buck against him wildly, lost in your pleasure. His hips grind against yours as he’s finally allowed his own orgasm, the pleasure shooting down his spine as he spills into you. His hips stutter before he stills, groaning into your throat as he fills you with his cum. You wrap your arms around him, holding him there as you both tremble from your orgasms. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He’s nowhere near finished with you. Besides his control, he’s proud of his stamina. He could go all night into the morning if he wanted to, but he won’t push you that far. Not yet. He wants to take his time with you tonight, explore your body and let you explore his. He’ll hold himself back for now, for your sake. 

Regardless, you’re both in for a long night. 

He won’t lie, it had been torture, sitting there listening to his Captain fuck you endlessly for days. His own hand had only offered so much relief once he calmed down from the fear that something might happen to you. It had been easy to forget what your heat meant at first, when he’d spent hours pouring over everything to watch out for, how to take care of both of you, how to best support you through what’s such an important yet tough event. 

After a day, though, the worry eased and the vigilance wore off and he was stuck listening to you fuck his alpha for days. 

It wasn’t so much that you were fucking his, now also your, alpha. It was more that he wanted to see it. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t been imagining it since your date with Price. He’s glad Johnny had knocked on his door that night, able to get some relief that wasn’t just his own hand. He’d imagined it was your lips wrapped around his cock, your thighs around his head as you sat on his face. 

It’s been hard to control the twitching of his cock every time he sees you, every time he catches a whiff of your scent. It’s normal for members of packs to feel this way about each other, especially after being in close proximity to an omega in heat. Experts say betas aren’t affected by omegas in heat like alphas are. 

Kyle calls bullshit. 

Or maybe it’s just you. 

Christ, he should approach you and Price about spending your next heat together. It’s not uncommon for betas to partake, to join alpha and omega in the nest while still caring for them. Oh to finally get a taste of your slick, let you make a mess of his face as Price stuffs you full of his knot. 

He hasn’t felt this horny since he was a teenager. 

Then you approached him, all sweet asking if he was okay with Johnny getting to have you first. For just a moment he considered being selfish, but then logic had won over. He’d take a week of blue balls over a lifetime of Johnny whinging about not being first. 

It was likely deliberate, Price including you in their training session. They’ve done it before, usually one of them evading the others, but not this time. No, it was you they’d be hunting. He couldn’t deny the thrill that had shot up his spine at the idea of chasing after you, the primal instinct to hunt being awoken in the back of his brain. He hasn’t felt that feral in a long time. Maybe it was just his reaction to Simon’s own scent sharpening, the natural muskiness of the alpha’s scent thickening in excitement. 

Then he caught you. 

You’d been sneaky, evading them and tricking them, going in circles, backtracking, leaving your scent everywhere to confuse them. It was a good strategy, until you got sloppy. You decided to ditch stealth and rush for the exit most likely. He had heard your footsteps, closer than he thought to you. Had you kept with the stealth strategy, you might have slipped right past him without either of you knowing. Instead you had run blindly for the exit, and he had easily swooped in and caught you. It made his blood pulse in his veins, his heart rate spiking in excitement. If it hadn’t been for the fresh air clearing his head, he might have taken you right there on the asphalt outside. 

He’s been half hard since, his cock twitching at the thought of you being ready for him. He’s so close, he knows it. He’s just waiting on you to say the word. 

You’re close to giving in. He can tell by the scent wafting down the hallway. 

He follows it without thinking about it, like a kid following a trail of candy it leads him right to the rec room. Strawberry and vanilla washes over him like a punch to the gut, the muskiness of arousal going straight to his brain. He takes a deep breath in, meeting your gaze where you’re laying on the couch. 

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to as he approaches you, cock twitching in his boxers. You know he can smell you, smell your arousal. He won’t force himself on you. He’s still going to wait for you to say the word. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t enjoy it, though. 

He settles himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest. He presses his knees into the cushions so he doesn’t completely squish you under his weight. He can feel you twitch under him, fighting the desire to press closer. He can feel the warmth between your legs against his stomach, his teeth sinking into his lip at the thought of you soaked through your panties already. 

Your hands move to his back, fingers tracing patterns over his shirt. How he wishes you’d sink your fingers under it, let him feel you against his skin. Your touch is so light, so soft, he could fall asleep like this, pillowed against your breasts. He won't, though, because he knows how worked up you are. You're holding back, and he's not sure if it's nerves or perhaps you don’t know how to ask. Johnny had relayed in detail how you’d approached him, asked him outright. 

What’s holding you back this time? 

He holds his breath as your fingers pause where they’re tracing his back. You shift just slightly under him, your fingers trailing up to the back of his head. 

“Kyle?” You ask quietly, the sound of his name on your lips sending butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Your fingers trace his scalp, and if it hadn’t been for the excitement brewing within him, he would have been at risk of falling asleep under your touch. 

He hums in response, shifting his arms just slightly as they begin to tingle from being trapped against the couch. You don’t respond and he begins to get worried. What if you’ve changed your mind? What if he’s misread the situation and you’re not ready? He lifts his head from your chest, staring down at you. 

Your eyes are hooded as you stare at him, no sign of nerves on your face as you stare at him, and there’s no bitter edge of fear to your scent. The musky sweetness still surrounds him, sinking into his brain. When people talk about the beta scent and its effects, this must be like what they’re talking about. 

“Kiss me?” You break the silence, his heart leaping in his chest. 

He thinks about saying something corny, some quippy remark, but he decides against it. He doesn’t want to risk pushing things too far, making you uncomfortable in such a delicate situation. 

He pushes himself up, moving closer to your face. His body drags against yours, and how he wishes he could feel your skin against his. His eyes dart down to your lips as he comes face to face with you, before he looks back at you, meeting your gaze for a moment. There’s no hesitation, no fear in your eyes. You’ve asked him to do it, and so he will. 

He closes the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. His arms slip under your back, pulling you closer against his chest. The kiss is soft and gentle, as he wants to avoid pushing too far, possibly scaring you away. He’s waited so long for this, and he’ll be damned if he messes it up before it even starts. He wants you to be sure, not feeling like you have to. 

If you said no, if you turned him away now, he would respect that decision. It would hurt, but the last thing he wants is for you to be uncomfortable. 

“Kyle?” You murmur against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

He hums again in response, pulling away just slightly to stare down at you. 

“‘M not gonna break.” You say, dragging your nails over his scalp. A shiver runs down his spine, his eyes nearly rolling back. “Kiss me like you mean it.” 

He can’t help the small smirk that crosses his face. You have no idea what you’re asking for, and he takes that as all the confirmation he needs. He leans down, kissing you harder this time. Your breath stutters as you press closer to him, his ego inflating at the thought that he did that. You’re responding to him. 

He presses his tongue against your lips, slipping it into your mouth to taste you as you part your lips for him. You taste sweet, likely having dipped into the stash of snacks in the cupboard after dinner. They keep it stocked now, after the misery you went through the day your pre-heat started. 

Your thighs lift to squeeze around his waist, bringing him closer to the heat between your legs. He can feel it radiating, a quiet groan rumbling in his chest at the thought of how wet you must be. You answer with your own moan, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going through your head. How he wishes he could read your thoughts, see what you’re imagining for even just a moment. Are you picturing what position he’ll take you in? Or are you imagining him between your thighs, eating you like a man starved? 

He smirks as he shifts, pressing one of his thighs between your legs. You move so naturally, grinding against his thigh almost immediately. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, pulling away from his lips as you continue to move against him. 

“Fuck.” He breathes, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “That’s it.” He pushes his thigh harder against you, imagining you moving like that on top of him, taking your pleasure from him. You’re trembling just slightly in his arms, breaths picking up as you desperately grind against him. “Gonna cum on my thigh, just like that?” He nips at your jaw, trailing kisses down the line towards your neck. “Haven’t even touched you yet.” 

Christ he could take you right here, just like this. 

“Kyle?” You gasp out, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Gonna fuck me on the rec room couch?” You ask it like you had read his thoughts. 

He lifts his head from your neck, staring down at you for a moment. He could. There’s nothing stopping him from doing it, except that they might gain an audience. He’s not sure if you’re ready for that, or that he wants to share your first time with him like that. He wants this to be special, just between the two of you. 

“Fuck, you’re right.” He groans. “Your room or mine?” 

“Yours.” You answer. 

He tightens his grip around you, lifting you easily. You’re so light, so easily maneuverable. He fights the thoughts running through his head as your legs wrap around his waist, clinging to him like a koala bear. 

He carries you to his room, kicking the door shut behind him. He’s not going to waste any time. He’s spent enough time waiting, enough time thinking about this moment. He’s going to make sure nothing gets in the way of it finally happening. 

Your body bounces as he drops you on his bed. He doesn't even bother enjoying the sight as he peels his shirt off, tossing it haphazardly on the floor. Normally he’d toss it in his hamper, years of training screaming at him for leaving his space slightly messy, but he’s too focused on other things to care right now. 

You reach out almost as soon as his shirt is off to touch him, trailing your fingers over his skin. He stands still, letting you explore, your fingers trailing over his muscles, brushing over scars. You don’t seem to care about them, not even hiding disgust at the sight of them marking his skin. They all have them, some worse than others. They all carry marks from their job, remnants of close calls and lapses in judgment. 

His hand flattens over yours when you reach his chest, pressing it flat against his skin. He’s warm, the blood racing through his body in excitement. It’s really happening. He’s finally getting his chance. 

He hopes there’s going to be many more after this. 

He leans down, kissing you again. He’s addicted to the taste of you, the feel of your lips against his. It’s hard not to be, such a sweet little omega. Their sweet little omega. His sweet little omega. 

He slips his hands under his thighs, lifting you as he swaps positions, settling you in his lap as he sits on the side of the bed. He stares up at you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You look like a goddess over him, lips parted as you pant softly, already so worked up and he’s barely touched you. 

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He asks, still in awe of how lucky they got. He makes a mental note to thank Laswell for choosing you later. 

“I think it’s been mentioned before.” You say cheekily with a shrug, smiling down at him. 

“It’s the truth.” He grins, slipping his hands under your shirt, finally feeling the softness of your skin. “Deserve to hear it all the time.” 

“Bunch of handsome men complimenting me constantly?” You say, lifting your arms over your head so he can remove your shirt. “Can’t complain about that.” 

“Luckiest men in the world.” He says, tossing your shirt to the floor. 

It really is the truth, he thinks, as he realizes you’re not wearing a bra underneath. He’s seen you naked before, seen you stuffed full of his alpha’s knot, but this is different. This isn’t out of necessity. This is because you want him to see you like this.

His hands smooth across your back as he presses his face into your throat, trying to get a hold of himself. “Pretty little omega.” He murmurs, his teeth nipping at the delicate skin. 

You shiver in his hold as his teeth scrape your throat, his hands sliding around to your front. You arch against him as he brushes the undersides of your breasts. So sensitive, so reactive. 

“I never properly thanked you.” You murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“For what?” He asks, pulling away from your throat so he can stare up at you. 

“For taking such good care of me during my heat. Couldn’t have been easy, seeing me like that, knowing you couldn’t even touch me.” You grind against him, dragging your hips over the bulge in his pants. He nearly groans at your words. You’re right, it wasn’t easy. “Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself while thinking about me?” 

His cock twitches as you begin to show that side of you that Johnny had boasted about. How easily you had switched into a more dominant role. He’s not quite so easy to fold as Johnny is, but right now? He’d do anything you asked. 

“Too many to count, love.” He groans in response, leaning his forehead against yours. “Sounded so sweet, getting ruined by our alpha.” 

“Been so patient, waiting for this.” You gasp, still rocking in his lap. “Tell me how you want me.” 

“Sit on my face.” He growls, moving you off his lap so he can lay down. He’s eager, having pictured this moment so many times. He needs to feel your thighs around his head, feel the way you drip on his tongue with need.

You’re just as eager, stripping your pants and underwear down your legs. He can see the moment of hesitation, the thoughts taking over for a moment as you bare yourself to him. He holds out a hand, letting you breathe before you take it, letting him guide you onto the bed and over his face. 

He nearly groans as he comes face to face with your slick folds, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. His hands drag up your thighs to your hips, his fingers closing around the plush skin. It’s like a dream come true, finally having you here. He can die a happy man now, knowing he’s finally gotten the chance to get you like this. 

He goes to pull you down against his mouth but you resist, stiffening slightly above him. 

“Wait-” You say, holding onto the headboard. “What if I suffocate you?” 

“Then I’ll die a happy man.” He says, using his strength to pull you down onto his mouth. 

He lets out a groan as he drags his tongue through your folds, getting his first taste of you. Just as sweet as he imagined. He laps at your folds for a moment, licking up the slick that’s spread across your skin before he moves to your clit, flicking it with his tongue. He wants you soaked, he wants you to make a mess of his face. He wants you trembling over him, begging him for release. 

He wraps his lips around your clit, suckling at it. Your moans are music to his ears, his hands holding you steady as you shake from his ministrations. 

“Fuck!” You whine, grinding against his face, smearing slick all over his chin. 

Pleasure trickles down his spine as he continues to tease your clit, drawing patterns on it until he finds one that has your thighs squeezing around his head. You’re close already, so responsive to him as your thighs begin to shake. The sounds you make are far better in person, but maybe that’s just the knowledge that he’s the one making you sound like that. Finally he’s getting his chance to elicit such beautiful cries from your lips. 

He drags his tongue through your folds, gathering your juices on his tongue before he closes his lips around your clit, sucking on it harshly. Your thighs squeeze around his head as you cum, gushing all over his mouth and chin. He lets out a satisfied hum as he laps at your folds, licking up every last drop of your release. He’s not going to let any of it go to waste. 

For a moment he considers keeping you like this, continuing to tease you until you’re shaking and crying from overstimulation, but that might be too much at first. He doesn’t want to overdo it this time, risk scaring you away. So instead he releases his hold on you, letting you shift to the side. 

You’re still trembling as you sit on the bed next to him, staring down at him. He licks his lips, tasting you on his tongue still. He reaches a hand up, tangling his fingers in your hair as he tugs you down, pressing his lips to yours. You let out a moan as you taste yourself on his tongue, your scent thickening in the air again. 

A shiver runs down his spine at the thought of you enjoying it, tasting yourself on him. He has half a mind to let you lick his face clean, but he pushes that back for later too. The ideas his mind is coming up with has his cock twitching in his pants again. 

He wraps his arms around you, maneuvering you onto your back under him. You’re so pliable, so willing to let him move you as he wants. He’s not sure if that excites him more than the idea of you trying to take over, fighting him for dominance. 

“Sweet little omega.” He groans, nipping at your lips. “So fucking perfect.” 

“Kyle,” You gasp, pulling him down into a kiss. “Need you.” 

He groans again at your words, the confession going straight to his brain. “I got you.” He murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips before he sits back on his knees between your legs, staring down at you. 

His eyes trail down your body until they reach your pussy, still damp and glistening, even after your first orgasm. He drags his fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingers. 

“So fucking wet.” He groans, hastily undoing his belt and pants, kicking them off the end of the bed. 

He nearly smirks as you stare at him in awe, eyes glued to his cock. He wraps a hand around the base, squeezing gently to hold off a premature orgasm. How embarrassing that would be to cum before he’s even been inside you. He’d never live it down. He could swear you to secrecy, and you’d keep that secret, but the shame would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

He stares down at you as you stare at him, seemingly lost in your own world. He knows you think too much, that your mind is constantly going. He knows that look you get, when you’re too focused, when your brain is moving too much, too many thoughts going through your head. What he wouldn’t give to spend five minutes in your brain, listening to the inner monologue that seems to ceaselessly play in the background of your mind. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kyle finally asks, pulling you from your thoughts. He needs to make sure you’re not beginning to regret this, that you want to change your mind. 

You lift your gaze to his, eyes coming back into focus as you stare at him. “Just waiting on you to hurry up and fuck me.” 

He smirks at the quippy remark, knowing immediately that you’re alright, that you’re not regretting this. He brings a hand down against your inner thigh, the sound cracking through the room. You let out a yelp and for a moment he regrets slapping you so hard, but the wave of scent that punches into him tells him you enjoyed it. 

“Don’t get cheeky now.” He warns, rubbing the spot on your skin that’s quickly turning warm from his smack. “Just making sure you’re alright.” 

“Fine.” You say, spreading your legs further for him. “Be better if you finally fucked me.” 

Your chuckle is broken by a moan as he leans forward, dragging the head of his cock through your folds. He loves how quippy you can be, how you go toe to toe with Johnny and Simon sometimes. You’ll be a real hell-raiser once you open up completely. 

“That needy for me, huh?” He asks, teasingly pressing the tip of his cock into you before pulling back. 

“Just worried you might not make it since you’ve waited so long.” You gasp, trying to move your hips to take him deeper into you, but he pins you with the hand on your hip. 

“Careful what you wish for.” He says, pushing back against the dominant side of you trying to come through. He can’t help but wonder if you tried it with Price, or if your instincts had won out. Would you ever try it with him? 

The thought nearly has him cumming untouched. He needs to do this fast before he makes a fool of himself. 

He finally sinks into you, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment at the stretch. You’re tight around him, squeezing him like a vice. You flop back on the bed as you try to relax around him, allowing him to sink in deeper. He rolls his hips in short thrusts, working his cock into you slowly. He doesn’t want to get too eager and run the risk of hurting you. 

You reach for him as he sinks in deeper, and he allows himself to fold over you. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him as he slips completely into you, settling inside you. 

“Hi.” You breathe, staring up at him. 

“Hi, love.” He grins down at you, fingers brushing your cheeks as he leans on his elbows above you. “Doing alright?” He checks in as his hips press flush against yours. 

You nod, squeezing around him. “Yeah. Feels good.” 

“Good.” He says, leaning down to kiss you softly. “Been waiting so long for this. Feels better than I imagined.” 

A quiet whine leaves your lips, your walls clenching around him. He lets out a soft groan, his fingers sinking into his sheets to hold on for dear life as you tighten around him. He’s not going to cum yet, not before you do. 

You shift under him, rocking your hips just slightly. Your lips part as a shaky breath is pulled from your lungs. 

“Kyle?” You breathe, shifting again. “Please move.” 

“I got you, love.” He says, finally allowing himself to move as he pulls his hips back slowly. 

He keeps his movements slow and deliberate as he thrusts into you, taking his time. He wants you to enjoy this, he wants you to feel everything as he brings you pleasure. This isn’t just about him finally getting a chance to get his dick wet with his pack’s new omega. This is about you, more than anything. He wants you to enjoy your first time with him. He wants you to think about it as much as he’s thought about you these last few weeks. 

He wants you to come back for more. 

Something begins thrumming in the back of his mind as he holds your gaze, your bodies moving together. Your fingers trail over his shoulder, tracing the mark on his neck, the one Price gave him. He can’t help the shudder that runs through him as you touch the sensitive skin, his cock throbbing in answer. He lets out a low groan, fighting the urge to cum from the sensation of your fingers on his mark. 

He makes love to you, slow and passionate as he drags your pleasure out. The feeling of your warmth around him is almost addicting, so much so he wishes he could stay inside you forever. He can understand now, why alphas say omegas are so addicting. The little sounds you make, how responsive you are, the look on your face as you get closer and closer to the edge of release. 

Or...maybe it’s just you. 

You wrap your arms tighter around his neck, pulling him down closer against you as you move with him. You’re trembling, thighs squeezing around his waist. 

“I’m close.” You breathe into his ear, pressing kisses across his neck. “Don’t stop.” 

“Gonna cum for me?” He groans, keeping his thrusts steady. “Gonna let me see that beautiful face as you come undone for me?” 

He pulls his face from your shoulder as your back arches, eyes fluttering as your lips part in a long moan. It’s like staring at a work of art as you cum around him, lost in pleasure as you tumble over the edge and into the abyss of your orgasm. Your nails sink into his shoulders but he can’t even feel it as he continues to roll his hips, chasing his own orgasm. He’s close too, he won’t last much longer after that. 

His pace gets sloppy as his own orgasm tickles at the base of his spine. He can feel it building and building as your pussy continues to flutter around him, trying to milk his cock. Your eyes are on his face, lidded but aware as you watch him. The thought thrills him, that you want to watch him in his pleasure, just as he watched you. 

“Your turn.” You breathe, clenching around him again. 

He’s nearly blinded from pleasure as he’s suddenly dragged over the edge, his head tilting back as he lets out a deep moan. His hips jerk, bucking into you as he cums. It’s better than he imagined, better than he could have hoped for. He’s addicted to the feeling already, wanting to linger here in this moment forever. 

Your hands are rubbing his back as he nearly collapses on top of you, barely managing to keep his weight off of you thanks to his elbows planted on the bed beside your head. You continue to rub his back, fingers tracing his skin as he comes down from his own orgasm. He lays there, enjoying the feel of your touch as you explore his body, fingers pausing to trace scars you find every so often. 

He presses a soft kiss to the mark on your shoulder as he comes back to reality, grinning at the shiver that runs through you. You clench around his sensitive cock, pulling a groan from his lips. He pushes himself up onto his elbows over you again, staring down at your face. 

“Give me a minute.” He says, slipping out of you as he presses a kiss to your lips. 

“Tired already?” You ask cheekily, having bounced back fast. 

“No,” He chuckles, kissing you again before slowly sliding down your body. “Just need a minute to catch my breath. Besides,” He settles between your thighs, pressing them open so he’s face to face with your pussy, his seed starting to seep out of you already. “I’ve got a mess to clean up.” 

Things have changed. Things have changed a lot since he spoke with you in the rec room, poured out some of his deepest darkest secrets to you. Something has shifted between you, bridging a gap that had been wide open, separating the two of you. It might be a flimsy rope bridge, but it’s a bridge. 

It’s not just the energy that has shifted between the two of you, but you’ve changed in the way you interact with him. You’re less hesitant, less careful than you had been. You look at him differently, staring right into his eyes without any timidity. He’s still not quite used to it, his alpha bristling a bit when you stare directly at him. It’s a natural reflex, the inner predator wanting to see it as a threat, but it’s not. It’s just you. You’re hardly a threat to him. 

Not when he can manhandle you so easily. 

A yelp leaves your lips as he flips you, your body hitting the floor hard. He could have been gentler on you as you roll from the impact, landing flat on your back, but if you’re ever in a fight with an alpha, they’re not going to be gentle. They’ll use their size, their scent, their instincts against you. 

You won’t stand a chance. 

The thought makes him bristle, the images of you alone, facing down an alpha constantly haunting him. They won’t be kind, they won’t take pity on you because you’re just a little omega. That’s exactly what they want. He’ll be damned if he can’t teach you to at least put up a fight. 

“You left yourself too open again.” He says, his hands opening and closing into fists as you lay there, breathing heavily. 

“Well how was I supposed to know which way you were moving?” You whine, slowly pushing yourself up. 

He slowly approaches you. “You can’t, that’s why you have to keep yourself guarded at all times. Anyone you’re fighting will do worse than that as soon as your guard is down.” 

Your gaze is focused on his shoes as he stops just short of you. You’re lost in your thoughts again. If there’s one thing he hates about it, it’s that uncanny ability to get lost in your own head. It’s going to get you in trouble someday. Your gaze is far away, the puffy, dark circles under your eyes all the more prominent in the harsh fluorescents in the training room. 

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drops down into a squat in front of you. “How have you been sleeping?”

He still hasn’t been sleeping well, but he wants to hear it from you. Now that they’re aware, he knows the others have been more vigilant, and paying for it with their own sleep schedules. They’re all tired, all on edge still. There’s something bothering you. He can tell just by looking at you. The others aren’t quite so perceptive, but they can feel it in the air, the energy shifting every time you get too lost in your own head. 

Your eyes trail up his body, from his shoes to his face until you meet his gaze. His alpha snarls, but he forces it down, holding your gaze as you show no fear in front of him, looking deep into his eyes. 

“Better,” You clear your throat, quickly dropping your gaze to the mat. “But still not great.”

“The nightmares?” He asks, pulling you out of your head as you slowly begin to sink into your thoughts again. 

You blink rapidly as you nod. “Yeah.”

He watches as you get that far away look in your eyes again, blinking slowly as you stare at the mat. It’s fascinating how easily you can just block out the world around you, how easily you allow yourself to sink into a vulnerable state. Perhaps it’s not voluntary, perhaps it is a defense mechanism. He knows omegas will retreat into themselves in the face of a threat, if there’s nothing else they can do, if everything they’ve tried has failed, if there’s no escaping. 

Or, perhaps you do it because you feel safe enough to do it around them. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, fight tooth and nail to keep you safe. They’re always aware, so why should you be? 

It’s a bad habit. What if they’re not there? What if something happens and you get separated and don’t realize it because you’re too far in your thoughts? What if you get distracted and something happens to you before they can reach you? 

It’s still not safe for you. No matter how safe you feel around them. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” He says, shifting closer to you. 

You blink, your gaze snapping up to him. He can see the surprise on your face, obviously not expecting him to be so close. He can see you beginning to sink into your head again as you stare at him so he reaches out, wrapping his fingers around your ankle. You fall flat on your back again as he tugs you closer, shifting his weight over you as he settles on your thighs. He looms over you, resting his hands on either side of your head on the mat. 

You stare up at him wide-eyed, your scent sharpening in surprise. There’s no fear anymore in this position, not like there had been once. You’re beginning to trust him too much, becoming too familiar with him to see him as a potential threat. He doesn’t want to scare you, but he knows it’s going to make training harder the closer you get to him. 

He focuses his gaze on you, trying to see you as more than his pack’s little omega, trying to shove aside his growing fondness. He’s here for a reason, you’re here for a reason and that’s what he’s going to focus on. 

“Now, what do you do when someone pins you?” He asks you. 

The scents in the air thicken as you stare up at him, your eyes unfocusing as you begin to think too much. He can see it, the urge to submit as his scent begins to overpower your own. It’s always your go-to in this position, so many times he’s had to force you out of that mindset, out of that instinctual drive to bare your throat to him. 

As much as his alpha purrs in delight. 

He grips your chin, turning your head back so you’re staring at his face. “Focus.” He says, the fogginess in your gaze leaving, the sharp edge of your scent getting stronger. 

There you are, he thinks, beginning to see a hint of your omega peeking out. His alpha nearly purrs in delight, bristling at the challenge. How he’d love to wrap his teeth around your throat, make you submit to him. He wants to prove his dominance over you, show you how good of an alpha he could be. 

He releases your chin, letting his fingers trail down your neck. He can feel the rapid thrum of your pulse in your throat, his scent thickening at the thought that it’s all because of him. He’s made you like this, so excited, so aware. 

You move before he can even prepare himself, your fist slamming into his side under his ribs. His body nearly folds at the sharp pain, your knee driving right into your stomach in his moment of distraction. It’s taken him completely by surprise, your sudden retaliation. So much so he allows you to shove him to the side, his lungs burning as he tries to catch his breath. You scramble back away from him, fear clouding your scent. 

How he wishes he could read your mind, find out what’s going on in your head as he lays there. Had your thoughts gotten to be too much, or had you been waiting for the perfect moment to strike? Regardless, it was perfect, exactly what he had wanted from you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You rapidly apologize, shifting onto your knees defensively, ready to bolt. “I don’t know what just happened.”

“The hell are you apologizing for?” He coughs out, pushing himself onto his side. “That was bloody brilliant.” 

You blink at him, the fear fading from your scent. “What?” 

“That’s what you were supposed to do.” He grunts, pushing himself the rest of the way up onto his knees. His side is still throbbing a bit, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he has a bruise there later. Your hit had been solid, enough to stun him. He’s proud, though he’d never admit it out loud. It would go to your head too much. “I asked what you should do if you’re pinned, and you did it.” 

You have that blank, surprised look on your face as you continue to stare at him. It’s obvious you hadn’t been expecting that, and he’s beginning to think your actions had shocked you just as much as they had him. Had a bit of your omega come out, interpreting his threat as such and taking appropriate action? He knows it can happen, though you’d be less aware than you are right now. Perhaps you might not have even stopped trying to attack him. 

What would he do in that situation? 

He knows there would be ways to bring you back, things he could do to try and force the omega back down. Could he do them though? Could he bring himself to potentially hurt you in order to save you from completely being lost? 

He shakes his head, clearing his own thoughts. “Do that in a fight, you might just give yourself enough time to run.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Good job.” 

He passes you as he heads for the bench, and he can feel your eyes on you as he goes. He pockets his keys and his phone, turning to face you. Your eyes have glazed over again, a nervous spike edging your scent. It prickles in his nose, his alpha’s hackles raising. What’s going on in your head now? Whatever it is, he doesn’t like it. 

He approaches you again, and you don’t even flinch. It makes a nervous energy stir in his own stomach. Would you notice if it wasn’t him? If it was some other alpha approaching you? Or would you stay stuck in your head until it’s too late? 

You’re going to give him an aneurysm at this rate. 

He lets out a quiet sigh, slipping his hands under your arms and lifting you to your feet. You turn to face him, tilting your head back to stare up at him. You blink slowly, your scent softening a bit as you begin to recede back into your head. He’s not sure what it is about today, but you can’t seem to hold any focus, fading in and out of your thoughts. Maybe you really hadn’t slept that well last night. Maybe your nightmares had kept you up, plaguing your mind. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” He says, taking half a step back from you. 

“Sorry.” You blink. 

“Come on. Let’s get breakfast.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head. 

You follow after him as he makes for the exit, walking you out of the gym. His steps are slower than they might once have been, accommodating you instead of forcing you to keep up. It wasn’t fair to you, how he used to treat you. It wasn’t your fault you were forced here, it wasn’t your fault you were forced into their lives, forced to follow them around like a clingy pup. 

He can’t stop the movement of his hand as it gravitates to your back, leading you through the busy mess to the line. He’s not quite sure where the protective urge had come from, but he can’t stand the way the passing alphas get too close to you, even though they don’t have much of a choice. He’d rip their throats out if they tried anything, even just a passing hand over a place they don’t have the right to touch. He’d send them to the morgue, and take whatever repercussions would come his way gladly. 

He bites back the growl in his throat as he guides you to grab a tray, letting you grab your own food. He can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t make that jump, that step into courting and caretaking. That was for Price to do, for your alpha to show his ability to provide for you. 

He’s not your alpha. 

He holds his tray with one hand, balancing it as the other finds its place on your back, leading you to the table where the others have gathered. You take your usual spot between John and Kyle, and he tries to hide the disappointment rising in him. Of course you’d naturally gravitate towards your alpha, picking the spot that’s going to offer you the most comfort. 

He still wishes you’d choose to sit next to him sometimes. 

“How did trainin’ go?” Johnny asks, barely pausing to shovel his own food into his mouth. 

“Fine.” You shrug. “Simon threw me across the mat.” 

All eyes turn to him, the accusatory glances of the betas, and Price’s probing eyes. It’s certainly not the first time he’s done it, Johnny had witnessed it himself the first day, and you’re obviously not hurt. It’s the protective urge of the pack rallying them against him, despite the fact they all know he wouldn't’ hurt you intentionally. 

He keeps his gaze down on his porridge, unbothered by their gazes. “She took me down herself afterwards.” He says. 

The attention shifts from him to you, and he doesn’t have to look up to know you’re growing bashful under their gazes. He can practically see you folding in on yourself, making yourself seem small and meek. A direct contrast to the words he had spoken that had directed the attention towards you in the first place. 

“Had her pinned and she disarmed me enough to get free.” He continues, lifting his gaze so he’s staring at you too. He had been correct in his prediction, your shoulders hunched, arms dropped into your lap to make yourself appear small. 

“Christ, what I would pay tae see that.” Johnny says, the grin evident in his voice. 

“So training is paying off then.” John says, patting your back gently. 

“Guess so.” You shrug, still curled in on yourself. “Not sure how useful I’d be in a real fight still.” 

“Well, your first defense is trying to escape. Running is always the priority, remember?” John says. 

You nod, picking your fork back up. “I know.” 

The table falls silent, the conversation fading as they finish eating their breakfast. Simon watches as John walks you out of the mess, a longing stirring deep within him. How easily you gravitate towards your alpha, thoughtlessly following him like a pup, trusting him to not lead you astray. He wouldn’t, Simon knows that. He’d proven himself over and over again, not just to you, but to the pack as well. He’s a good leader, a good alpha, the kind Simon can only dream of being. 

***

A Few Days Later

The scent nearly blinds him as soon as the door opens. It permeates the air, and for once he’s glad his face is hidden beneath the mask as his nose crinkles in response to the overwhelming stench coming off of Johnny. 

“Took your time, MacTavish.” John says, crossing his arms as the beta Sergeant saunters into the gym.

“Get your dick caught in a door again?” He asks, though he already knows what the answer is. The sweet scent of strawberries clinging to Johnny, mixed tantalizingly with the musky scent of sweat and arousal. 

“More like he got his dick caught in a saucy little omega.” Kyle says, obviously catching the scent as Johnny approaches them. 

Simon’s hands clench into fists at Kyle’s words, the truth being spoken out loud somehow solidifying the fact that it really happened. Johnny had chosen to be late to training in favor of fucking their omega. He can’t help the jealousy stirring within him, striking out the annoyance at his insubordination. 

It’s hardly insubordination, more just a misbehavior that Price will choose to discipline lightly, if at all. Price himself can hardly speak, having been late a handful of times, always smelling distinctly of strawberries. Simon always pictures them pressed up against your door, kissing until you’re both dizzy. He can’t blame Price. You’re magnetic, pulling them all into your gravitational field like a black hole, threatening to devour them slowly. 

How soft they’ve all gotten because of you. 

He hates it. 

“Well, since you seemed to have more important things to do than your job this morning, you can go first.” Price says, nodding to the mat. “Garrick, you’re up too.” 

Kyle makes his way to the middle of the mat, cracking his knuckles. Johnny saunters to the middle of the mat behind him, obviously still riding the high of his quickie before joining them. Had he stuffed his hand into your pants, fingering your tight cunt until your legs were shaking and all you could whimper out was his name? Or had he gotten his dick wet, taking advantage of his decision to be disobedient to milk everything he could out of you?

Simon can see the haze in Johnny’s eyes, his distracted state mirroring your own. Is he thinking of what happened just a few moments ago, your sweet moans replaying over and over in his head? Is he thinking about the way your pussy squeezed around his dick as he fucked you so hard you saw stars? 

Simon shifts on his feet, the jealousy and anger continuing to bubble in his as Kyle takes advantage of Johnny’s distracted state to take the first swing. Johnny snaps back into awareness almost instantly, so fast it has even Simon blinking in surprise. He blocks Kyle’s attempt to hit him in the stomach, wrapping his arms around the other beta. 

Johnny plants his feet firmly, flipping Kyle onto his back, pinning his fellow beta. Kyle yields quickly, Johnny’s shoulder digging into his stomach. He’s gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him from how hard he had hit the mat. 

“Bloody hell.” Kyle gasps out, trying to catch his breath. “The fuck was that?”

“Just me beating you. Again.” Johnny smirks, far too cocky for his own good. 

“Yeah? Well I still have you beat on the course.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to stand. “Should work on your speed instead of your biceps once in a while.”

“Alright, you two.” Price says, stopping the argument before it becomes something more. “Garrick, get out of there.” He silently motions for Simon to take Kyle’s place. 

Simon moves onto the mat, staring down his beta. It’s not unfamiliar from the first time they ever sparred together. Simon has size and raw power to his advantage, but Johnny is quick on his feet. Johnny takes a defensive stance, planting his feet on the mat. Simon moves quickly, Johnny just barely managing to dodge his first hit. Simon catches Johnny's own swing aimed for his face, wrapping his arms around the beta to try and sweep him off his feet. 

His mistake is taking in a deep breath so close to Johnny's chest. 

The scent of strawberries flows straight into the back of his brain, igniting a fire in his veins. His blood is boiling, his instincts riding high off the scent of omega wafting off of his beta, creating an alluring cocktail that nearly blinds him. It has him nearly shaking, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He wants to bury his face in it, inhale until his mind is clear of nothing else but you. He wants to taste from the source, listen to your moans unfiltered by the walls that keep him from witnessing firsthand the unbridled pleasure the other members of his pack bring you. 

Simon releases his hold around Johnny just enough to ram his shoulder into Johnny’s stomach. The air leaves his beta’s lungs in a pained gasp as Simon uses the adrenaline and instincts coursing through him to flip Johnny so hard his head smacks against the mat. 

“Christ, I yield.” Johnny gasps, holding up his hands to stop Simon from continuing his assault. 

Simon’s hands are shaking, his breathing ragged. His mind is still reeling from the scent of omega on his beta. He shouldn’t be reacting this way to the scent of an omega he knows well, an omega he recognizes. He had accepted Johnny would want that kind of relationship with the pack omega early on, so why does he feel jealousy burning in the back of his mind. 

He leaves the training room, slamming the door behind him before heading outside, gulping down lungfuls of damp air free from the scent of omega. You weren’t even in the room and yet it was like you were standing before him, taunting him with your sweet scent. He leans against the outside wall of the gym, letting the air clear his head. Had they been alone and not in the middle of the base, he might have pulled off his mask, let the air touch his skin and dry the sweat that has slowly soaked into the fabric. 

He squeezes his eyes shut as the door opens, the gravel crunching under cautious steps. He can feel eyes on him, the prickling of his skin from the harsh, questioning gaze. It’s not the first time he’s found himself under the scrutinizing stare of his pack alpha. He’s used to it, the attention being on him. He's an officer, he's the one being looked to when things go wrong, when important decisions need to be made. He has to be aware, clear-headed, and focused at all times. 

That's the one thing he can't be right now. 

“It will get easier if you just give in.” Price says, leaning against the wall next to him. “I know you want to.” Price cuts him off before he can offer up any argument. “The longer you try to deny it, the worse things will get for you. I don’t want to have to question your ability to be successful in the field.” 

Simon swallows the lump in his throat, his mind reeling. He knows deep down Price is right. The longer he pushes away those thoughts, fights to keep those urges at bay, the more that tight rein on his emotions will slip. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath. He’s spent decades now mastering control, keeping things buried when he needs to. Then you come along and fuck everything up for him. 

It’s not fair to blame it on you. It’s not your fault. You don’t even know you’re doing it. You’re not even trying. You just exist around him and he's losing control. 

Price can report that to the stupid initiative program. 

“Is this going to become a problem?” Price asks him, giving him a pointed look. 

Simon sucks in another deep breath. Is it going to become a problem? Is he going to let it become a problem? He releases the breath, shaking his head to try and clear it. “No, sir.” 

***

“Get dressed.” 

Simon nearly lobs a knife at Johnny’s head as the excitable beta barges into his room. Johnny flinches out of instinct, having had knives thrown at him many times for barging into Simon’s space. 

“Why?” Simon blinks at him. 

“We’re takin’ a trip tae town. Yer comin’ with.” Johnny says, a smug grin on his face. 

Simon sighs, knowing the beta is plotting something. “Why?” 

“Got tae take an alpha with us. Captain’s orders.” Johnny says. 

“Us?” Simon blinks. “You don’t mean...” 

“The three of us. You, me, and our little omega.” Johnny declares, far too excited. 

“Why?” Simon asks again. 

“Price has some errands for us tae run, and I’ve got a few myself.” Johnny says. 

He knows he’s not getting out of this. There’s no arguing with Johnny, even if he wanted to. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Johnny alone with you, but he knows letting the two of you out into the wild on your own is a recipe for trouble. Without someone to guide the two of you, you’ll be out of control. The last thing he wants is for something to happen, not that he thinks something will. 

 He lets out a defeated sigh, shaking his head. “Fine. Get out of here.” 

Johnny grins excitedly, bounding out of the room, no doubt to let you know you’re also coming along. Judging by the muffled shriek he catches before he closes the door, he was correct in that thought.  

He gets dressed in his civvies, changing out his skull mask for a regular face mask and a beanie before heading out of the barracks. There’s a car already waiting outside, Johnny obviously having planned this out long before he told both of you, you were involved in this too. He leans up against the passenger side of the car, already knowing he’s not going to be volunteered to drive. Not with you as a passenger. He’s not necessarily a bad driver, he just thinks the rules of the road are not necessary all the time. He wouldn’t be a bad driver with you in the car. He might actually follow all the rules of the road then. 

Johnny steps out of the barracks, Price following close behind. 

“You’re only going to the places you’ve said you’re going to.” Price says as Johnny turns to face him. 

“Yes, sir.” Johnny says. “And maybe somewhere tae eat, depending on how long it takes.” 

“And you’ll keep a close eye on her?” John continues. 

“Like a hawk.” Simon answers. 

John holds up the keys in front of Johnny as you step out of the barracks. The breath nearly leaves Simon’s lungs as he catches sight of you. You’re in a skirt, legs out on display. He swallows thickly as he thinks back to the morning after your return in the nest when you’d ditched your sweatpants, leaving your legs out on display in nothing but your knickers and a baggy t-shirt. You’re more covered now, but he can’t help himself as the urge to feel your skin under his hands grows stronger. He knows it’s soft and he can imagine the goosebumps forming on your skin as he trails his hands up your thighs under your skirt. 

He quickly snaps himself out of his daydream, climbing into the passenger seat of the car. This is going to be a long trip. 

***

Surprisingly, Johnny makes it to town in one piece. He had driven the speed limit, and avoided breaking the law to speed around slower vehicles. He even takes his time pulling into a parking spot. You pull out your phone as soon as Johnny parks, most likely sending a text to John so he knows you made it in one piece. His fellow alpha has been a bit clingy lately. He’s noticed the way Price’s eyes follow you, always watching, always assessing. If you notice, you give no sign that you do, but then again he wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t. 

Johnny opens your door for you, helping you out before lacing your fingers together. He locks the car before leading you down the sidewalk, Simon following closely behind. He trails behind the two of you like a shadow, keeping anyone who passes on the street far away. He uses his threatening presence as a warning, even as a few alphas let their eyes linger a second too long on you. He may not be your alpha, but he’ll sure as hell defend you from any idiot who thought they could try it. 

“The last stop.” Johnny says, pausing in front of a storefront. 

Simon bites back the urge to groan as he sees the displays in the window, his eyes trailing up to the sign. Of course he would. Of course Johnny would put him through this torture. He has half a mind to go back to the car, leave the two of you to whatever trouble you might get into, but he can’t. He can’t risk that, he can’t risk something happening while he’s not there to step in. 

The sharp tang of nervousness fills your scent as Johnny opens the door for you, letting you enter the shop. You’re hesitant, moving slowly, keeping your arms crossed over your front as you step inside. You’ve been here before. Johnny had mentioned stopping at a lingerie store before your first date with Price. You’re not nervous because this is a new place. 

You’re nervous because of him. 

Your nervous energy feeds into his own hesitation, quickly growing uncomfortable as Johnny leads you through the racks and racks of delicate lace. He feels out of place as he follows slowly, trying to look anywhere but at the skimpy slips of fabric. He scans the store, looking for any potential threats but there’s none, the store mostly full of women browsing the racks, or omegas with their alphas. Some of them glance up at him for a moment, eyes wide as he slinks through the racks. He’s used to it, used to the stares, the whispers. It’s impossible for an alpha like him to go unnoticed in public. 

Johnny looks like a man on a mission as he flips through some racks, pulling things off to hold them in front of you. Simon tries to look away, keeping his gaze elsewhere as the mental images of you draped in the delicate lace start to flood his mind. He’s never really been one for lingerie, but you might change his mind. His nails bite into his palms, sinking into the skin to distract him from the lewd images flashing through his mind. 

Instead he focuses on your scent, the sweet scent of strawberries getting stronger as Johnny continues to look at lingerie. You’re getting worked up, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going through your head. Are you imagining yourself in the lingerie? Are you imagining the kinds of positions Johnny will put you in while wearing the lingerie? Or are you imagining wearing it in front of someone else? Or perhaps all of them, all draped in delicate lace for them to destroy. 

“That’s definitely the one.” Johnny says, his voice drawing Simon from the lewd thoughts brewing in his mind. He fights the urge to adjust himself as Johnny holds some purple number in front of you. You look just about as confused as he feels staring at it, not sure where the top or the bottom is or where everything else is supposed to go. 

He notices the nervous spike to your scent once again, even through the well filtered air in the store. Your gaze lifts, scanning over the store before going back to whatever skimpy underwear Johnny is looking at. Simon lets his gaze casually scan the store too, looking at whatever might be setting you off. No one is even looking at you, everyone lost in their own world. There’s less people in the store now than there had been when you entered, 

He feels your eyes on him for a moment, obviously ensuring he’s still there. He’s aware, more aware than he had been when you first walked in. He’s aware of your scent, how the nervousness continues to get stronger and stronger, taking over the sweetness that had been there just a few minutes ago. He’s aware of how your eyes continue to scan the store, looking for something, whatever it is that’s putting you on edge. 

Simon slowly begins to approach you, weaving through the racks as he keeps his eyes on the other shoppers. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks as you move closer to him, picking up on your nervous energy. 

You flinch when he presses up close to you, the nervousness spiking for a moment before you relax, noticing it is him. He leans down close to your ear, his fingers ghosting over your arm, trying to reassure you that they’re there, that they wouldn’t let anything happen to you. 

“What is it?” He asks quietly, just loud enough for Johnny to hear. 

“I-I think someone’s watching us.” You reply, leaning into both of them. 

They both straighten up, scanning the store again. So he had been right in his assumption that it was one of the shoppers making you nervous, or perhaps one of the employees walking about, straightening up the racks. His hand wraps around your arm subconsciously, ready to pull you out of harms way, should someone try something. He doesn’t recognize anyone in the store, nor does he pick up any potentially hostile auras from anyone. Everyone is still off in their own world, only glancing at them in passing. 

Simon releases you so he can step over to Johnny, leaning over his shoulder. “Spot anything?” 

Johnny shakes his head. “Nothin’. Not even a bad vibe. Could just be getting tired. Maybe hungry.” 

Simon hums, fighting the urge to flinch as your hand wraps around his forearm. He straightens up, their attention turning back to you as you scan the store one more time. He lets your hand stay there, lets you hold onto him for comfort and support. Your skin is soft against his, your hand warm. He’s touched your hands before, felt the softness of them. How different you are from them and the calluses built up from years of fighting and handling weapons. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his eyes flickering between you and Simon. 

Your gaze snaps back to him, and you nod almost automatically. “Yeah.” 

“You two go an’ pick out some new skids, I’m almost done.” Johnny says. 

Simon shifts on his feet, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable at Johnny’s words. He does not want to look at the underwear you’re going to pick out, he does not want to see what you hide beneath your trousers and skirts. His fists clench at the thought of you wearing a pair right now and he lets out a long breath at the thought of knowing first hand what it would be like if he trailed his hands up beneath your skirt. 

Your hand slides from his forearm to his wrist and you tug lightly on his arm. “Come on. They’re just panties. They don’t bite.” You give him one of those shit eating grins, almost mirroring Johnny’s. You’ve spent too much time around him. 

“Bloody hell.” He groans before letting you tug him over to the section of the store with the underwear. 

You find the ones you’re looking for quickly, and he plants himself off to the side, crossing his arms as he watches the patrons still milling about. Two more have entered the shop and he watches them carefully, waiting for any sign of suspicious behavior. 

You pick up quite a few pairs and he tries not to look too closely to avoid feeding into the mental images already plaguing him. He doesn’t need to know what lace decorates your skin, hugs your pert little ass. He already has to hear enough commentary from Johnny. He doesn’t want to see firsthand. 

Johnny approaches, looking far too smug for a man with his arms full of lace. “Look what I found.” He grins wickedly, holding up a pair of knickers.

Your scent spikes as you stare at the fabric in Johnny’s hands. Simon shifts behind you, his hands curling into fists as his gaze zeroes in on the knickers. They’re far too small, black with white lacy edges, and skulls all over the fabric. Of course Johnny would find them, of course he’d pick up a pair and force both of you to look upon them and the possibilities they offer. 

Johnny steps up to you, turning you around to face him. Simon tries not to look. He really does as Johnny holds up the knickers in front of your chest. Your scent is strong in the air, the sweetness going right to his brain. His jaw clenches, eyes focusing on the knickers, refusing to look at your face. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle seeing the look in your eyes, the possible desire, the neediness. 

He can’t stop them as they lift to your face, your eyes big as you stare at him, waiting in anticipation for his next move. He can’t decide, can’t pick what he wants to do as his eyes flicker between your face and the knickers. They finally settle on the knickers, his gaze sharpening slightly as he stares at them. 

The thoughts are pouring in, the way your ass would look in them, his teeth sinking into the supple flesh until you whine in pain. The way they’d look pushed to the side as he buries his face right in your cunt, or even better, pushed to the side as he drives his cock into your sweet warmth. You’d be split open around his length, spread wide as he fucks you mercilessly, dragging the sweetest whines and moans from your lips. It would be his turn to touch you, taste you, hear you unfiltered. It would be his bed slamming up against the wall for once, keeping everyone up as he forces orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re a half-conscious mess. 

He’s snapped back into reality as your hands lift, taking the panties from Johnny. For a moment he hopes you’ll lower them, force Johnny to go put them back where he found them, tell him no, you’re not interested. Instead you continue to hold them against your chest, staring at him with those big eyes. 

“Fucking hell...” He breathes, his hands dropping to his sides, still tightly closed into fists. 

“Would...” You clear your throat, trying to shake the waver from your voice. “Would you like to see me in them?” 

His gaze snaps to yours, sharp and predatory. He can see it, the subtle flinch as you feel the intensity of his gaze. Your omega must be bristling, telling you to run from him, to let him give chase and devour you whole. He wants to, that primal urge beginning to build in him. He wants you to run, he wants you to try. He’d wrap his teeth around your throat, pin you down as he has his way with you right in the middle of the store. He’d rip the throat out of anyone who dared look, who got too close, even Johnny. He’d stake his claim, take you as his where everyone can see, fill you up until you’re bursting to mark you as his. You’ll carry his scent, showing everyone who you belong to. He’d knot you if he could, keep you on his cock until you cry, begging for relief. 

He lets out a shaky breath as his pants begin to tighten again, his scent thickening in the air as he stares at you. He’s beginning to hate that word, panties. He’s heard it too much today, they’ve given him far too many depraved thoughts. He’d never stake his claim on you, not without Price’s permission. He doesn't need it, technically speaking. As second alpha he has every right to stake his claim on you as well. Price might be worried, perhaps a bit disappointed by his sudden, impulsive action, but perhaps it would fix this rift beginning to form in the pack, a rift caused by his own refusal to accept his feelings toward you. 

He nearly groans as your scent begins to thicken, clouding the air in the lingerie shop. It’s mixing with his, brewing a toxic cocktail that would have anyone who comes too close feeling dizzy. It’s a mix of arousal and desire, heat beginning to pulse under his skin. He wants to sit you on the display, hike your skirt up and press his face between your legs like a dog. He wants to cover himself in the sweet scent of strawberries and the musk of arousal, let you mark him as much as he wants to mark you. 

The spell is broken as you turn to face Johnny, shoving the pile of panties into his arms, including the ones with the skulls on them. “We’re getting them.” You say, a slight shake to your voice. 

The moment is over as soon as you turn away, the intensity of the scents beginning to fade in the well filtered air in the store. A woman passes by the three of you, giving you a look as she picks up the scents in the air. Simon stares back, daring her to say something, to linger too long. She doesn’t, passing by quickly. 

Johnny happily carries the armful of lace towards the checkout, and you follow quickly behind him. Simon follows, ever the shadow behind you. His head is still reeling, your scent nearly sending him into an instinct fueled craze. 

He leans down as Johnny reaches the register, whispering in his ear. “I’ll be outside.” 

Johnny nods in acknowledgement as he steps away, heading for the door. He needs fresh air, he needs to get control of himself. He needs to breathe before he loses control and the painful ache between his legs grows to be too much. 

He feels guilty, having such thoughts about you. You haven’t shown such interest in him, despite the fact you’ve pushed past the barriers he’d so carefully built up. You’ve pushed past his comfort zone, forced your way into his mind, into his body. He shouldn’t be thinking this way about you, but he can’t help it. You’re so tantalizing, so effortlessly teasing without even knowing it. You’re driving him crazy, sending him into a spiral that threatens to snap the delicate cord of control he’s managed to hold onto. 

His heart is still pounding as he breathes in the cool air, desperately trying to clear his head as you and Johnny finish up at the register. There’s a subtle tremor to his hands, his veins on fire from the desire burning through him, the need that’s settled in his very bones. He needs you, needs to be close to you, to feel you, to devour you whole until you’re one with him. He wants to sink his teeth into your flesh and pick the meat from your bones like a vulture. 

That’s all he would do, devour you until there’s nothing left. 

That’s why he can’t. He can’t allow himself to get too close, to threaten you with his unbridled lust and uncontrollable instincts. He’s always been proud of his armored control, and here you are tearing it all down. 

He turns to face you and Johnny as you leave the store, bag in hand. You’ve calmed a bit, your scent not quite as strong as it had been. He’s calmed as well, his heart rate slowing a bit, the tremble gone from his hands. He prays you don’t look down, don’t look to close at the bulge still evident at the front of his jeans. 

He’ll bend Johnny over later and take it out on him. This was his fault, after all. 

“Let’s grab somethin’ to eat, then we’ll go.” Johnny says, taking your hand again as he leads you back towards the car. It’s nearing dinner time, just early enough that the restaurants won’t be packed yet. 

You and Johnny speed ahead in excitement, Simon picking up the pace to keep up with you. He rolls his eyes as he follows, shaking his head at your antics. Back to normal, almost like nothing had happened, nearly skipping in your excitement for food, weaving around passersby on the sidewalk.  

He really should invest in leashes for the two of you. 

***

“We need to talk.” 

The words take him by surprise, despite the fact he heard you coming down the hall. His gaze snaps to yours, and he sees the way you shy away under his intense gaze. He sits there frozen for a moment, the words replaying over and over in his head. He’s heard them many times before, far too many to be comfortable. You have a serious look on your face, speaking business. He slips his phone into his pocket as he turns slightly to face you. 

He expects you to sit but you don’t, remaining standing. He can feel it, your attempt to take over the energy in the room, assert yourself as the dominant one in the situation. He’ll allow it for now, he’ll give you the upper hand to start. 

“I want to know how long.” You say, taking half a step closer to him, one foot planted, the other half raised, a position speaking volumes of your nerves, your readiness to run from him. “I want to know how long you’ve had feelings for me.” 

His gaze hardens just slightly, not expecting that question. He hadn’t been prepared for it at all, despite the fact he knew it would come up eventually. You had read into the event at the lingerie store enough to know, enough to tell what was going on. You read him like a book, and the thought of that makes him feel vulnerable, naked before you. He’s so used to being the one to read others, to rip them open and stare at their insides. It feels strange being on the other side of things. 

Despite the shift in the air, you don’t back down, continuing to stare at him determined. You’re not going to be persuaded to back off, you’re not going to back down unless he forces you to. He doesn’t want to force you, though. He wants to confess, he wants to finally let his feelings be known. He wants to allow it, to tease just what things would be like if he gave in. After everything you at least deserve the truth. There’s no denying what transpired in the lingerie store, no playing it off as a fluke, as something else. 

“I want to know the truth.” You say, still standing tall over him, still asserting as much dominance as you can. 

How powerful you could be if you knew. 

He’s going to tell you the truth, confess to everything. No matter where it leads, he’s going to allow it. It’ll be a weight off his shoulders, a door starting to swing open. He should let you in. It would be a relief for everyone, easing that disruption in the bond, allowing it to finally settle in place. He wants it to, he wants there to be that connection. He’s only making things harder on himself. The events in the training room were enough to tell him that. 

It’s only a matter of time before he truly loses it. Someone’s going to get hurt and it’ll be entirely his fault. 

“When you punched that asshole Corporal.” He finally says, avoiding your gaze. He can’t look at you, not when he’s forcing himself to be so vulnerable. The words may choke him, keep him from speaking if he looks at your face. “Allen. Proved you weren’t just some weak, pathetic omega that was only going to slow us down, make us work twice as hard to keep you alive.” He snorts softly. “That first night with Johnny. That’s when it changed. He yapped the whole morning about what happened, what you two did, like a bloody slag.” 

You shift on your feet at his words, obviously not aware of Johnny’s yapping about what you do during your private moments. 

“I wanted to hate you.” He continues, the truth spilling out uncontrollably. “Fucking tried so hard to, but you make it so bloody hard.” He shakes his head. “I’m not supposed to.” 

He can see you out of the corner of his eye, the way your brows pull into a frown. He hates it, seeing you so upset, so conflicted and confused by his confession. He wants to press his finger between your brows, forcing the frown away. He knows better though. He can’t take that risk, can’t let you in completely. He’s a danger to you, a threat to your safety. He’ll only hurt you. He’ll only bring you pain and suffering. 

“I-I don’t understand.” You say, taking half a step closer to him. 

“I can’t.” He snaps, wheeling around to face you. He hates the way you freeze like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide, poised to run as you face down a predator. “I can’t.” He repeats, softening the bite to his voice. “It’s too dangerous.” He deflates, knowing his words are going to hurt you. 

Your frown deepens as you stare at him. “What do you mean?” 

“I’ll only hurt you.” He shakes his head. 

He expects you to walk away, for the tears to start, for you to scream at him that you hate him, that you regret ever trying to get close to him. He’ll take it, your anger, your frustration at him and his inability to control himself. He’ll even take your tears, the absolute devastation on your face as you realize he can never be what you so obviously want him to be. 

You bravely continue your approach until you’re standing right next to him. He expects you to lash out, yell at him, hit him, do something. He won’t retaliate. He’ll fight those instincts, ones he can fight. He can’t look at you, he can’t bring himself to face the consequences of his own selfishness. 

“You’re not going to hurt me.” You say, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. He lets you, trying not to flinch under your touch. “I know you won’t. If...if you’re worried about turning out like your father, then that’s enough proof that you won’t. You know, you’re aware, so you can stop it.” He goes to turn away, but you stop him, catching his wrist in your hand. “We don’t have to. If you’re not comfortable enough then that’s okay. I have that need filled plenty.” You plop down on the couch next to him as you lift his hand to your face, pressing his bare palm into your skin. “But I wouldn’t stop you, if you wanted to.” 

He turns to look at you, your words striking something deep within him. It’s like you’ve cut him open, reading every last thought going through his head. All his worries, all his fears, all his inner thoughts spilling out on your tongue. You meet his gaze, holding it fearlessly, just like you’ve learned to do, like you’ve grown comfortable enough to do. The pricking in the back of his mind is gone, his alpha laying defeated in the wreckage of his own inner turmoil. 

Your skin is warm and soft as his hand relaxes against your cheek. He’s been this close before, held you in compromising positions, yet nothing has felt as intimate, as vulnerable as this. His thumb brushes your cheek, his calluses dragging across your skin. You lift your hand slowly, pressing it against the back of his. 

He holds your gaze, glad his mask can hide his thoughts, his feelings. It keeps him safe from those that might want to learn his face, and those that might want to read him. He won’t allow it, won’t allow anyone to get too close that he doesn’t trust. It had taken weeks for Johnny to see his face, and even longer for Kyle. Then you came along and he was forced to put the mask back on, become the Ghost again despite all the work he had done to be Simon with his pack. 

Here you are offering him that chance again, giving him the opportunity to put Ghost away in the safety of the barracks, take those barriers down and allow you in. It scares him, the thought of you seeing him for what he really is, the secrets he hides under the mask. The blood and violence that has stained his skin. 

It’s not his only fear. 

“It’s not just me that might hurt you. I’ve made enemies, people that would do anything to get back at me.” He says quietly, confessing the deeper fear that he’s kept hidden since your arrival on base.  

You shrug so nonchalantly at his words, entirely unaffected by his warning. “So does everyone in this pack. That was a risk I was made well aware of before I was sent here. That’s why I don’t know jack shit about what any of you do. That’s why I’m basically non-existent and invisible except to a select few. I used to think about it, when I first arrived here. What if something happened to me because of your jobs? What if someone found out about me?” You shrug again, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “That’s a risk we all signed up for, right?” 

He hates you at this moment, hates that you’re so right. You’re well protected, even those on base not getting to know anything, not even a name. You’re simply a nameless omega added to their pack for some initiative related to their pack. Those that do know your name are few, well trusted and sworn to secrecy. You know nothing of their jobs, their lives while they’re away, the things they do. It’s for your own good, to hide you, make you useless to those that might try to use you for information against them. It also keeps you innocent to the sins they commit, the horrors they partake in. Would you be feeling the same if you knew the things they’ve done? Would you so willingly have opened up, allowed them in if you understood the true nature that lies behind their sweet words and caring actions? 

A part of him believes yes, you would. You would look past it, you have looked past it. You have to understand some things that they do, you have to have imagined the blood staining their hands. Yet you sit here, letting his hand cup your cheek, letting his skin touch yours, the appendage that’s taken more lives than he can count. The blood would soak into your skin, staining your face red, dripping down your neck and coloring your shirt like some gorey painting. It would drip off you onto the couch, staining the cushions and soaking straight through until it forms a puddle under you, if the blood could be seen. 

Yet you sit here, allowing him to touch you so tenderly. 

You’re either crazy, or as sick in the head as they are. 

He’s leaning towards crazy. 

He can’t help it as he begins to lean forward, his body moving magnetically. Despite everything he’s done, the way he’s treated you, you’ve sat here convincing him he can be better than he thinks, that he’s not the monster he thinks he is. You’ve validated his feelings, allowed him a safe space to open up. 

He couldn’t ask any more of you. 

He closes the distance between you, letting his forehead rest against yours. He holds your gaze for a moment before letting his eyes flutter closed. He feels on edge, but he knows he can trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to him. It’s not in your nature. You’re too soft, too sweet, too innocent. Even if you tried, he’s not sure you could manage it. 

He wants to kiss you, he wants to lift the mask and close the distance completely. How soft they always look, how good you must taste. He wonders if you taste like strawberries, sweet and plump and ripe for the picking. His breath is quiet, quiet enough you can’t hear it shudder as the thoughts begin to fill his head again. He can’t help it, the bond beginning to form between the two of you beginning to take over. 

Soon he won’t be able to control himself. 

Soon he won’t be able to hold himself back. 

Soon he won’t want to. 

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