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You drum your fingers on your arm as you wait outside Ghost’s quarters. He’d suggested that since the two of you were heading off on separate missions and would be off-base soon, you could hang out a little the night before he left. So here you are. Here you’ve been for the last ten minutes. You’ve already tried to text and call him, and you’ve gotten no response.
Sighing, you knock as loud as you can without waking anybody up. “Hey, LT! Mind opening the door? I’ve been out here a while, you know.”
You hear fumbling from inside, before finally, the door creaks open a sliver, and Ghost peers out at you.
“You need to go.”
You blink. “Excuse me?”
“You—“ He cuts himself off with a huff. “Just go, yeah? We’ll do this another time.”
The door starts to close, and you shove your shoe in the way to stop it. “I’ve been out here waiting for you, and you’re trying to blow me off without an explanation? No way. What’s going on?”
It’s then that you notice how he’s leaning against the wall, how his breathing seems labored. You can pick up on a bitter scent coming off of him, nothing like the burnt sugar and cedar you’re used to. Is he stressed? What caused it?
“Nothing I can’t handle. Now can you listen to me and just go—”
“You’re worrying me, Ghost. C’mon. Tell me what’s going on.”
He takes a deep breath and falters on the exhale, squeezing his eyes shut. “‘M in rut.”
Oh. Oh. You flush. “I, uh—sorry for interrupting-“
“Not like that.” His voice seems…wobbly in a way you heard from him before. “It’s not proper yet, ‘s…pre-rut, something like that. I don’t know. They’re so irregular anyway it’s just—“ You watch as he sucks in a breath. “‘S easier to not keep track and have supplies on hand.”
“Irregular?” You’re aware that alphas can have messed-up cycles like omegas can, but you haven’t ran into many with that problem. It’s a little rarer, from what you know.
“Yeah, it’s…annoying.” His voice dips lower, and you do your best to ignore how it makes you feel.
“In that case…do you still want company?” When you see his saucer-wide stare, you throw your hands up. “Not like that! I mean…I always find company nice in pre-heat. Balances all the hormones, y’know?”
He’s quiet for a moment before opening the door wider. “…yeah. Come on, then.”
You walk in, at which point you notice how Ghost is missing the layers you’re used to seeing him wear. He’s only got a (very, very tight) tee on, and sweats that hang low on his hips. He notices you staring, and turns his head away to look at the floor before gesturing vaguely to his clothes.
“Rut wear,” He mumbles—is he embarrassed? “Need to be comfortable without overheating.”
You smile. “No judgement here. You should see me in my heats, I’m a total mess. You’re already doing better than me.”
He cocks his head. “Oh yeah? Find that hard to believe.”
“Trust me. I’m a pile of raw nerves and bodily fluids. You’d hate to see it.”
Ghost seems to think he’s quiet enough to be unheard when he responds with a low I’d disagree, but you hear it all the same. You choose to ignore the flipping of your stomach and chalk it up to pre-rut hormones.
You walk closer to the bed, taking in the messily arranged blankets and pillows. “Nesting, huh? Is it alright if I take a seat?”
When he gives a quick nod, you toe off your shoes and hop in, careful to not disturb too much of the arrangement. Ghost stays near the foot of the bed, watching. “‘S not a nest, though.”
“I mean, you set up everything you’ve got on your bed to sleep with it surrounding you. Sounds like a nest to me.” You smile. “It’s not like it’s something to be embarrassed about, LT. Alphas are allowed to nest too.”
When you see him shift a little on his feet, arms crossed defensively, your smile widens. “Plus,” you add in a teasing voice, “plenty of omegas love an alpha that can make a good nest. Very attractive.”
He huffs a little in response, shuffling his feet some more before finally moving to join you on the bed. Feeling pleased with yourself for having sufficiently teased the man, you scoot over to allow him some space.
He settles beside you as you pull up a show on your phone for you to watch. “I’ve heard some good things about this one. Super dramatic.”
“Do you always have to go for a bloody soap opera?”
“They’re fun!”
“You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue.”
“Oh, you’re just too tough to admit you like them.” You hold the phone between the two of you and press play, effectively silencing him as the opening starts.
~~~
It’s around the third episode—where the protagonist has just learned about her fiancé’s evil twin brother—that you notice Ghost being strange. He’s moved since you last checked, his torso pressing up against your arm as his head hovers near your shoulder. A moment later, his head drops to rest in the crook of your neck. You tense for a moment, unused to this kind of behavior from him, but you set your nerves aside as you remind yourself of his condition. He’s an alpha in pre-rut, and you’re an omega sitting in a nest with him. Obviously he’s going to feel more cuddly than usual.
You make it through another episode before you notice the sniffing. The fabric of his mask presses close against your scent gland as you hear how deeply Ghost inhales. Really, the man is huffing you.
He doesn’t even seem to notice as you pause the show, too focused on getting as much of your scent as possible. His scent has lost the signs of stress, replaced with a smoky sweetness that you’re used to, if only muskier than normal.
“Hey, LT. You feeling alright?”
When you get no response, you shift slightly to get a better look at him. Your heart jumps to your throat when you see how blown out his pupils have become. They’re unfocused as well, hazy, like he’s high. You try to pull back slightly, but when you do, his arms wrap around your middle and draw you closer.
“Ghost, talk to me here. You okay?”
Hearing his callsign seems to snap him out of his stupor, and his hands drop to the side. His eyes refocus, and you watch them widen as he realizes what he’s doing. Ghost moves back quickly, eager to have space between the two of you. “Fuck, I—I wasn’t-“
You tilt your head and smile a little in an attempt to put him at ease. “No worries, LT. Rut brain leaves you cuddly, right? I’m not judging.”
“But I shouldn’t have-“
“Hey, listen. I’m not, like, upset.” You snort. “To be honest, I’m kind of flattered.”
He stills and blinks at you. “Pardon?”
“I mean, it means you trust me, right? That’s pretty big coming from you, LT.” Your smile widens. “Or my scent’s just that good, which is also a nice ego boost.”
He huffs. “Fuckin’—you’re a piece of work, y’know that?”
“Oh, as if that’s not what you like about me. Come on, you’re free to, uh…keep doing that. If you’re comfy.”
“What?”
“No offense, but seems like you needed that. And I don’t mind, so you’re free to scent me or whatever.”
You watch as his eyes dart from your face to your neck and back. “…really?”
You lean back and grin. “You heard me, LT. Go ham.” With that, you unpause the show and keep watching.
It takes a while, but eventually Ghost settles up against you, his face once again resting in the crook of your neck. There’s a distinct thrum of satisfaction in you when, a few minutes later, he drapes an arm over your waist and a leg over your own. His wrist rubs against your shirt, a (very endearing) attempt at scenting from a man clearly unable to think straight.
It’s only after that that you notice something hard against your thigh.
To your credit, you try ignoring it at first. It’s just a natural response; he’s in pre-rut, of course he gets bricked up easily, especially while cuddling and scenting a trusted omega. It doesn’t mean anything.
But the humping probably does.
The first drag of his hips over your leg makes you freeze. The second has you turning off your phone and setting it aside, which he doesn’t even seem to notice. The third leaves your core clenching as the scent of arousal starts filling the air.
You reach up and slowly let your hand rest on his thigh. It tenses beneath your touch, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath. His head shifts on your shoulder, tipping up to look at you. “‘M sorry, I just—I need—think my rut’s started proper-“
“Ghost,” You say, and try your best to not let your voice waver. “Do you want my help?”
He pulls you even closer, panting against your skin as he clings to you. You take the hint and shift so that you can reach a hand into his sweats.
You wrap your hand around the base of his cock—seems he chose against underwear today—and pull it out past the band of his pants. It’s a hefty weight in your palm, even half-soft as it is now, and you do your best to ignore the spike of arousal that thought provides. You start with slow, easy strokes to ease him into it, knowing that he must be sensitive if he’s this far gone. Ghost lets out a ragged gasp as you do.
“Oh—oh, fuck—“
“You alright there? Want me to keep going?” You twist your wrist slightly as you reach his tip, drawing a low groan from your lieutenant as a result.
“Don’t you dare stop. Fuck…” You feel him panting against your shoulder. His arm tightens on your waist. You left out a soft laugh and stroke a little harder, a little firmer, delighting in the way his hips begin to buck into your hand.
Ghost groans again, voice somehow going even deeper than before. Your cunt clenches in response, slick staining your underwear as your body attempts to prepare itself for a knot.
Not gonna happen, brain.
You carry on like that for a while longer—pumping his cock in your fist as he grunts and gasps into your ear, trying valiantly to not get too wet about it—before a new sound catches your attention. It’s a quiet, high-pitched thing, soft and keening and needy. You turn to face Ghost, and your suspicions are confirmed.
Your lieutenant is whining.
And not just whining. As you look closer, you see the tears brimming in the corners of his eyes.
He’s crying.
You stop your ministrations, but that only seems to upset him further. His hips push against your wrist faster, harder.
“N-no, fuck, ‘s not—‘s not fuckin’ enough, it’s-“ He grits his teeth, rubs his masked cheek frantically against your neck. “Please, omega, need more-“
Your response is immediate, instinctual. You reach up with your free hand and hold the back of his head. “Shh, LT. Easy, easy. What do you ne—“
You don’t get the chance to finish your question, because suddenly Ghost is pushing you down onto the mattress and rutting against your abdomen. “You, fuck, I need you-“
He stares down at you, eyes blazing. A lump forms in your throat, and you do your best to swallow it before answering him.
“You can have me.”
Ghost freezes for a moment, as if he hadn’t thought you would agree. Then, you watch in shock as he grabs the bottom edge of his mask, pulls it up over the bridge of his nose. Before you can say anything—before you even get a good look at him, honestly—he leans down and catches your lips with his. The kiss is messy, uncoordinated, desperate. His tongue bullies its way into your mouth, and you can’t suppress the whine that leaves you as it does. Ghost moans in response, the rumble of his chest noticeable with how he’s pressed himself against you. Big, calloused hands grope at your chest and hips as a thigh pushes between yours. You squirm in his hold, and he pulls away from your mouth, moving to your jaw and neck.
“Gonna fuck you,” he mutters, almost more to himself than to you. “Fuck you, knot you, ‘m gonna—you’re gonna feel so fuckin’ good, can smell your slick from here-“
He tugs at your pants, and you lift your hips to help him get them off. The minute they’re gone, Ghost immediately shoved two fingers into your cunt, drawing a ragged gasp from your throat. He shushes you from his hiding place in the crook of your neck, rubbing your clit with his thumb. “I know, I know, they’re thick. Just take it, yeah? Gotta stretch you f’me. I’ll eat you out next time, I will, just need you now.”
Trying to ignore how your heart flutters at the suggestion of a next time, you rock your hips into his hand. He’s right, his fingers are thick, the stretch of them more than what you can get with your own. You let your head fall back and relax as he preps you, enjoying the feeling of warm lips at your neck. “Yeah, just—just get me ready-“
Ghost’s fingers curl inside you, making you moan again. His cock kicks against your hip in response. You feel him smile against your shoulder. “Feel that? ‘S all for you, all yours, omega—gonna give it to you soon-“ His tongue laves over your scent gland, and you whine. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Do you?”
When you make a confused sound and try turning to face him, he huffs and adds more pressure to your clit. “You don’t. No fuckin’ clue how much I think of you. “’S all day, bird. Distractin’ me all the time, making me want you.” A kiss to your jaw, a hand squeezing your tit. “Saw you working out in that tight little set last week, thought I was dyin’. Wanted t’ lick the fucking sweat off you, you looked so good. Smelled so sweet.”
Your toes curl as your stomach clenches, a knot building in your stomach. “Fuck, Ghost-“
You’re cut off with a whimper when Ghost rips his fingers out of you. He squeezes your jaw and twists your face towards his. “No. None of that Ghost shit, no titles. Just—just Simon, yeah? When it’s this, I’m Simon.”
“Simon,” you whisper, and you watch how his pupils blow out as you say it. You feel how his cock kicks where it’s trapped between you. “Take what you need, okay? Fuck me. I’m ready.”
He groans and pushes your legs farther apart, makes space for himself between them. The drooling head of his cock rubs along your entrance before pushing in slowly. Even if it’s gradual, the stretch makes you gasp. Ghost—Simon, you remind yourself—leans down and presses his forehead to yours as he bottoms out.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “That’s my girl. Took me, takin’ me, so good.”
His first few thrusts are small, really just a roll of his hips as he huffs against your mouth. But even that feels overwhelming as he presses down on you, pins your body between himself and the mattress. You wrap your legs around his waist and take a moment to get a better look at his face. Most of it is still covered with his mask, but what you can see, you like. A strong jaw, clean-shaven. His lips are full, and a little chapped, but that’s nothing you can’t help—you’ll lend him some lip balm. A scar runs over the corner of his mouth and stretches up towards his ear. You run a thumb over it absentmindedly, and Simon’s mouth falls open in response. For a moment, you’re worried you overstepped—that the spell is broken—but you watch as he sighs and he leans into your hand. You stroke his cheek before kissing him again.
“Come on, Simon,” you say with a grin. “Didn’t you say you were gonna knot me? Make good on that promise, alpha.”
There’s a low growl in your ear, and you can’t get another word out before Simon is fucking pounding you, cock slamming in and out too roughly for you to speak. Your legs bounce uselessly beside his hips. He shoves your shirt and bra up, revealing your tits. His lips closed around your nipple with a groan as he begins to suck, sending a fresh wave of heat to your cunt. His eyes stay locked with yours all the while, watching the way your face twists with pleasure. He thrusts even harder somehow, angling his hips so that the head of his cock grinds against your g-spot and makes you shake. You hold onto the back of his neck and press his face closer into your chest, moaning. For a brief moment, you worry if you’re being too loud, if someone will hear you—god, you don’t want to imagine the mess that would make—but the thought is gone also as fast as it arrived. You can barely think when you’re getting fucked like this. Simon’s a fucking animal.
He pulls away from your tit with a wet pop, breath shaky. He squeezes your hips and grins, giving you a glimpse at a wicked set of fangs. “Gonna lemme knot you, omega? Fill you up? Please, just lemme knot you-“
You feel something hot and swollen catch against your opening, and your eyes widen as you realize how close he is. Your hand goes to Simon’s chest and pushes slightly, scooting yourself backwards. A confused whine escapes him as his cock slips out of you, leaving it wet and twitching in the air. He tries moving forward to push back in, but you stop him again as you turn over.
“Easy, Simon, easy. Just turning over. It’ll be comfier once you knot me, ‘kay?” You sink onto your knees and elbows, rising your hips in the air. Presenting to him.
There’s a low, rumbling growl from behind you before he slams back inside, the new angle making your jaw drop. He drapes his body over yours once again as he laps at your neck. His knot pushes against your cunt with every thrust, making it a little deeper inside reach time. You’re fairly sure your brain is melting out your ears, which isn’t helped when Simon’s fingers find your clit and start rubbing. Your arms give out under you, leaving you laying on your chest and deepening the angle even further. Above you, you can hear Simon mumbling more to himself than to you, needy grunts of mineminemine and knotyoufillyousogood and prettyprettyomegapretty that leave your head spinning.
It’s when his knot finally pushes into you fully that you cum, letting out a wail as you clench and gush over his cock. And Simon isn’t far behind; you feel the hot rush of his seed inside you barely a moment later, and beside your head there’s the sound of tearing fabric and a muffled shout. You turn your head slightly, and see him with his teeth buried into a pillow so deeply that it’s ripped, his eyes watering as his jaw clamps down on the cotton. Your heart pangs slightly as the reason dawns on you—he must’ve been fighting the urge to mark you, and turned away at the last minute. You reach up with a shaking hand and rest it against his cheek. It earns you a whine as his eyes close. His hips are rocking slightly, but it’s nothing like before—the urgency is gone, and it feels more like he’s trying to test the hold of his knot.
“Simon?” You keep your voice soft. His eyes open a bit, staring at you through half-mast lids. You smile a bit, gently work the remains of the pillow from his jaw. “You okay?”
He chuffs in response before wrapping an arm around your waist and rolling both of you to the side. His head rests on your shoulder as he speaks. “‘M great. We’ll shower once my knot’s down, yeah? Just sleep for now.”
You snort. You’re certainly not going to disagree with that; you can feel sleep pulling at you. The warmth of satisfaction blooms further when you hear Simon beginning to snore behind you, already asleep. With just a bit of adjusting, you settle back against his chest and close your eyes, happy to stay with him like this for a moment. You’ll talk in the morning, probably, but it’s not morning yet.