The concept of alpha!ghost who clings to beta!reader in a not so socially acceptable way...
Ghost has long since lost care for normal social conventions. He's the alpha who stinks up the place because he can't be bothered to wear scent blockers, not like anyone else on base does either. He growls when he wants to and with his freakish size is more than willing to push people around. Everyone knows about ghost, how could you not?
What people don't realize is just how in tune he is with others emotions and scents.
He acts like he doesn't care in the hopes people would stop fucking shoving their scent at him, yet they still do. In a base full of too many alphas and omegas, he almost always has a migraine from everyone else's scents.
Well. Everyone but you.
You, the mechanic that absolutely refuses to share shop space and is too skilled to really replace. You're also a beta. A fact that ghost became distinctly aware of when he had to get your signature on some paperwork after he totaled a humvee.
Even as you reamed ghost for the state he turned the humvee in, yelling and waving your hands, your scent never once left that bland neutral so many betas possessed.
The entire time you spent yelling at him, ghosts head didn't hurt once. It was like bliss that left him rumbling in delight and you calling him a freak.
If he's not loitering in your shop all day, then he's popping in every few hours to shove his nose into your neck.
No, he doesn't care who else is around when he does it. They're not the ones with a splitting migraine, are they? He makes up for it with snacks and buying you random shit, so you let him do what he needs.
Once, when you were waiting in line for lunch, everyone tensed and stepped away only for ghost to be at your back. Wrapping thick arms around your middle and nuzzling into your scent glands with a rumble. You nipped at him more out of habit than correction, but let him get his fill in the middle of lunch, not like you care either way.
Oddly enough, people stop approaching you to ask for a date. Eh, more time to spend in the shop, then.
Thinking about Alpha!John Price x Beta!Reader today.
John, who leans always a little too close, presses himself into you ever so slightly, murmurs “Johnathan for you, love” and noses at your neck, coaxing out the faint soft smell of yours. Perfect darling for him, blushing so deliciously, hissing when he allows himself too much. Keeping him in line.
John Price whose hands are somehow always on you, thick fingers hooking in the loops of your jeans and dragging your hips to his, broad chest of his pressing into your back when he whispers “got you, sweetheart”.
He kisses you behind the ear, always lingering just a little to savour the taste of yours that he manages to swallow being this close to your scent gland. Licking air and not yet your skin, because you keep pushing him away, keep glaring at him like he is a dumb beast too keen on the idea of eating a local bookshop owner instead of looking for royal offspring. As he should have.
Dumb beast who is not realising that he shouldn’t rub his scent into you, that lingering pinewood and cigars kill all your chances to get a proper date with someone.
John, who hums when you protest and gently bites your neck, just holding you between his teeth, your pulse pounding into his lips.
Why’d you need dates with some boys, love? Don’t you have him? Isn’t he the best there is to get?
John, who keeps coming back just to chat you up, always with excuse to touch you, worming his way into your life until you don’t even notice that his thumb has been stroking your wrist for the last 10 minutes of your conversation.
He comes back after every deployment and rubs himself on you, smiling when you hiss and wiggle out of his grip. Feisty first thing after so long apart. He knows, sweetheart, he missed you too.
John who comes back once and has to swallow back a low growl, sound starting in his chest, his teeth itching because you don’t smell like him and you don’t smell like you.
He circles you around before pressing himself into your back, bracketing you against the counter, his nose diving into the neck of yours, beast in his head snarling when he finds someone else’s hickey there.
Kept yourself busy, didn’t you, love?
He’s been gone for too long, his scent got too weak.
John admits, he should have come back sooner, should have pulled you under a long time ago.
But he liked your little game of push and pull, he enjoyed the tag so much that he forgot he isn’t the only one playing.
An oversight, not a good thing for a captain.
John who is still hazy with the blood from last deployment, urge to tear another throat out simmering right under the surface when he presses his hips to your ass, slotting against you like perfect puzzle.
If he knew you’d get impatient, he would have taken proper care of you, sweetheart.
But he won’t make the same mistake again.
John Price, who takes leave of absence so he can stop taking suppressants for the first time in years.
Rut of his pounding in the back of his head, spreading through him like an infection, dripping under his skin like poisonous honey.
Sticky sweet, molten with yearning, hungry for blood.
Hungry for you.
John Price who clicks his tongue at you to stay behind your counter, as he locks the doors behind him and lowers himself down. On his knees, nudging your stance to widen.
So he can pull your jeans down, tongue sliding between your thighs, big hands holding you open for him.
No need to thrash, love. He isn’t letting go now. He isn’t backing away either, not anymore.
His rut makes you hazy, his rut clouds your head and makes you slip, bracing your forearms on the wooden counter, his ‘good job, sweetheart’ dripping slick between your thighs.
John eats you out until his knees ache, until your hips roll into his mouth, until the sweet faint scent of yours blends in with his.
Your whole bloody shop is going to smell like you have a man, love. Like you have John.
There is a low dangerous rumble in his chest when you try to pull away, to stop him from eating you out into overstimulation. Because where do you think you are going, sweetheart? You need to be nice and slick to take all of him.
You need to be soft and pliant for John to feed the thick length of his cock to your greedy hole.
“Goin’ to fuck attitude out of ya, lovie.”, John breathes out, biting your ass until you whimper trying to get him off and until the indent of his teeth is a red mark on you. First out of many. “Any bloke in this bloody country would be able to tell you are taken. Anyone who takes a step inside will know I was here.”, he growls, grinding on the plush of your buttock.
Not going anywhere now, love. Never again.
John Price who clicks his tongue when you whimper about condoms, because that’s just silly, sweetheart, you won’t need any of it with him. How are you supposed to feel his knot if you won’t let it in?
That just won’t do.
John Price who bounces you in his lap, thick calloused fingers holding onto the meat of your hips, slamming you down and pulling you up, until the knot of his pops inside of your hole, plugging you in, binding you to him for the next half an hour.
John Price who holds you in full Nelson, arms under your knees, teeth grazing your ear when he bounces you on his knot, pulling just enough so you’d feel the stretch, so you’d start whimpering for him, so you’d scent become sweeter for him.
Naughty fucking thing, you like him being mean to you?
John who lets the rut take reigns, so he can press you into the counter, biting all over your shoulders, snarling “mine, always mine, only mine” when you can’t help but arch. Whether to pull away or to press into him, he’s not sure.
John who licks the scent gland of yours, teeth itching to sink in, dumb beast in his head pulling him to rut into you. And Lord, you are slick and warm and perfect, squeezing him like you never want to let go, milking him for all he’s worth.
Perfect mate.
He humps into you like a feral dog, heavy thick hips of his pressing into yours, not letting you close your legs. Not when he’s folding you into the mating press and sinking his teeth in the crook of your neck, popping the untouched and unmated gland there. Binding you together, blending himself into you, drinking you in so your sweetness is always in his scent from now on.
Won’t be anyone else, love. Not for him. Nor for you.
John Price who presses your face into his neck, rasps out “bite, sweetheart”, his knot popping back inside of your hole — your legs twitching above his shoulders. Sweet thing, he’s too much for you without much of a preparation. But it’s okay, he will be better next time.
He will take you somewhere soft and warm, he will feed you meat and fruit, letting you lick juices off his fingers, he will suck on your tender sensitive parts until you are crying.
You just gotta bite, lovie, just sink your teeth in his gland, will ya?
John Price who licks his lips when you nuzzle in the crook of his neck, your teeth grazing his gland, your jaw trembling. Rode you ragged, didn’t he, love?
It’s okay, John will help, just open wide, aye?
John murmurs, voice half a growl when he presses your head into his neck, when he closes your jaws down on his gland, shiver running down his spine, everything clicking in place.
This is right. This is how it’s supposed to be.
John who kisses your face pulling you out the crook of his neck — your eyes gone, pupils blown wide and jaw slack when he ruts into you again.
Just one more orgasm, sweetheart, just one more. He knows you can do it, you can be good for him.
You can give him his reward for being so patient, you can thank him for not tracking down your now irrelevant suitor and not presenting you bloke’s fingers as a courting gift.
You can thank him proper and you will, won’t ya, lovie?
Come on, one more time, he rasps in your ear, fingers prying your mouth open and stuffing it until you are drooling messily all over him. Pretty thing, see how easy it is? Just had to come to your Johnathan and he would have taken care of this greedy hole.
He would have made it better. And from now on he always will.
Till death do us part, sweetheart. If he has to say anything about it.
Hi. Sorry. Can't stop thinking about massive Alpha Simon held up in a corner overlooking a bar. Glaring at anyone and everyone. Tough OP. Johnny's in the hospital, Kyle is sitting with him, and John is dangling someone over a ledge right now. His whole Alpha Pack is trying to mend itself together and here he is. Getting drunk.
Doesn't matter. Not when your table can't stop looking, can't stop whispering, can't stop licking their chops over this massive Alpha with the biggest attitude, biceps, thighs—and everything in between—around.
You aren't being so obvious, but you can't help but look too. You know you aren't the one that will get taken in the bathroom. Or alleyway. Or to wherever this Alpha calls his den. No, that's for your Omega friends who dragged you out of your cubby (you call an apartment) and begged you to hang out. Ypu knew that it's safer for an Omega to have a Beta around, someone who will make sure the Omegas were looked after and safe, but even if you were being used as a babysitter, you still enjoyed everyone's company.
Except for the Alpha who caught the attention of all of your friends. Who made their sweet, syrupy scents fluff up and drown the entire table, and flowing throughout the bar to reach him. Who giggled, twirled their hair, their gum, the straw in their drink, as they eyefucked him and begged for him to take one of them. Maybe all of them.
It's happened before. Long night for you, staying out in the hallway as it happened, all to make sure that they got home safely.
You couldn't help it. You couldn't just leave. You had to help. You had to make sure the Omegas were okay. You just couldn't walk.
You figured it would be the same as before. Your stomach twisted and you wished you could have more to drink, but you knew you shouldn't.
Poor Beta. Taking care of everyone else, but never you, huh?
Probably why Simon can't stop looking at you. Drinking you in as you starting drinking water. As you buy the entire table food and make sure the Omegas ate.
Yeah, they're beautiful. They can get him going. He knows they are absolutely Johnny's type, but you...little Beta.
You have the Alphas attention.
Maybe it's why everyone is surprised when a special meal, a sheppards pie, is placed in front of you. You couldn't even tell the bartender that you didn't order it before he points to Simon in the corner and leaves.
Everyone is shocked, you included.
Your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water. Everyone is staring at you like you sabotaged them. Like you did this on purpose.
Providing food, a meal, nutrients, to another was beyond words. Providing for someone who you didn't know was unheard of, unless it's an Alpha wanting an Omega.
Your shoulders drop, and you know what had happened. He smelt someone else and thought it was you.
Wasn't the first time it'd happen. Won't be the last. Begrudgingly, and with the stares of your friends as you slowly walked over to his table holding the delicious smelling, warm and most perfect pie (its your favorite. You eat one every birthday dinner, just as a little treat for yourself) and stop in front of him.
He can't stop smiling.
The curl of his lips, like he won a prize. The scars tugging his flesh in opposite ways, but spoke to your instincts and told you that he was a survivor. That he had been through war, battles, trials. He had clawed his way out of hell and lived to tell the tale. His brown eyes, almost black under the warm lighting, gleamed with a sense of pride.
Little Beta wanted to eat the meal with the Alpha that provided it. How sweet.
"I-I think you made a mistake, Alpha." Your voice was soft, but strong. You wavered, but you kept eye contact as you told the biggest Alpha around that he was wrong.
Fuck, Simon was so hard under the table.
"Mm, that right, little Beta?" You nodded your head, turning your head to look back at your table before stopping, slowly turning back to the predator before with wide eyes.
"I-uh, I'm sorry. You know I'm a Beta?" Your eyebrows twisted together, confusion heavily coming off you, and Simon could feel the beginning of his knot slowly form. He groaned lowly, free hand gripping his cock over his pants and squeezing. The motion is not lost on you, and Simon smirked as your pupils widened and your breath hitched.
"Of course, sweet thing. Why else did I get you the pie?" Your shoulders slightly lifted, but you couldn't stop your mouth from watering as the smells of the herbs, the meat, the potatoes filled your lungs with every second you held it. You know you should give it to the Omegas. You know he's toying with you. No Alpha actually wants a Beta—
"Gotta get your strength for tonight, Beta. No quittin' on me while I'm knotting you, got it?"
And oh....if that didn't sink you into the seat directly in front of him, eyes wide with hearts plastered over them as you began to eat in front of him, showing the Alpha what a good Beta you could be. You could listen. You could eat. You could take his knot—
Simon just smiles at you, ignoring your table who is fidgeting to get you back and to get a piece of the Alpha. He encourages you to eat and drink water as he drinks his last beer and surrounds himself with your coy scent, subtle and hidden but there. And growing.
Sweet Beta will be so perfect taking Simon's knot.
Maybe he can get you to stay around. Help take care of his pack.
Maybe he'll give you a reason to stick around (or two).
Summary: It should have been simple; bring the omega to her new pack, fill out your mission report and get back on your merry way. But now you’re a member of the 141, have a few hard pills to swallow, a bunch of explaining to do and a lot more to care about…
Warning: None
Note: This is the first bit of writhing I post online. English is not my first language and I’m writing this in-between taking care of a young child, so I’m sorry if there is mistakes or it isn’t that good.
If someone had told you, a few weeks ago, that the “career changing” operation your commending officer wanted to send you on consisted of babysitting and escorting the world most insufferable omega to her new pack, you would have laugh in their face. But right now… Right now, you were reconsidering working for the military all together.
In a sense, you understood why it was a career changing opportunity. Between the already known rarity of omegas and the unexplainable rapidly declining birth rate of that particular secondary gender, they were more often than before kidnap, trafficked and sold on the black market. With the way things were quickly devolving for the omega part of the population, you were glad to have ended up being a beta. To be able to bring this omega to her new pack on your own, with minimal incidents or people noticing what she was would prove your worth in more than one way.
But still, this was the worst mission you had been on in a long time and you weren't even getting shot at for once.
And after two weeks of laying low, having two fight Ophelia every step of the way, making sure she didn't cause scenes and keeping her smothered in your scent so people wouldn't notice her actual designation, you were finally given an actual drop of point; some remote base a few hours away by car.
So here you are now, only a few minutes away from your final goal and very tempted to drive the car into it tree. You had barely slept in days, Ophelia was ever so often kicking the back of your seat from where she had lay herself in the backseat and complaining about the music she had chosen herself. Honestly, the only thing keeping you going was the fact that you were told this morning that the pack you were bringing her to was the famous Task Force 141. You knew you would only see them from far away and very quickly, since, obviously, no one would give much thought to some random beta soldier when they were in the middle of receiving an omega for years of jobs well done. But you still couldn't help but be excited at the thought of being in the presence of legends.
“Are we there yet?” Ophelia condescending voice sounded from behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Only a few minutes away…”
“Good. I can’t wait to be with real soldiers.”
You bit back the frustration that was building up at the obvious jab. You were so close to the finish line, now wasn’t the time to lose it. You didn’t need her to go bad mouth you to the 141. Both because you didn’t want the squad you so deeply admire to see you in a bad light and because it probably wouldn’t be good for your career. So, you kept your mouth shut as you pulled into the entrance of the base, showing the soldier on guard duty your military ID and the proof that you had the right to be here before being let in. As you stop the car, you saw four men you could only assume was the member of the 141 approaches.
You never thought you would be this destabilized by a new scent before. You took a deep breath to calm yourself, regretted it immediately as you were meat with more of that strong mixed of spicy and excited beta and alpha scent, and tried to look unaffected as you rounded the car. You couldn’t help but feel their burning gaze as you opened the door for Ophelia. God, they almost looked like they were about to go feral just from looking at her. You didn’t know who you pitied more; Ophelia, for what they would probably going to do to her the moment they had her alone giving the way they were currently drooling over her, or them for not knowing just how entitled she was just yet.
Little had you noticed, it wasn’t her they had been staring at…
“For the love of fuck, Simon. You’re grown. And more than that, you know better.”
Kyle slapped a hand to a towel that lay discarded on the counter and threw it with enough force that the ends of it wrapped around Simon’s head. Your snort of a laugh had Johnny lightly pinching your ribs.
He murmured into your ear, “Don’t antagonize him, love.”
The warm smile you pointed down at him, which he met with his own love-laced gaze, got interrupted by the jarring noise of the table scraping against the floor. Glancing up, you saw Simon had decided to move the entire—extremely heavy—table to divert the attention to him instead of each other. Typical.
Simon spoke, voice low and menacing as he returned the towel to Kyle once his mess had been cleared.
“I don’t like my pack visiting you. I won’t stand for your broken scent mucking up my nest.” His dark eyes bored into yours. You returned the glare with the same fervor. “I don’t like you.”
“Oh, good,” you rolled your eyes, “The feeling is mutual, ya big bastard.”
Kyle coughed to cover the bark of a laugh. John’s eye started to twitch in your peripherals. Before anyone could suck in a breath to fire another round, a pounding knock came from the front door. The men reacted like the unfamiliar sound came from an enemy. Johnny pointed at you with a stern look that said ‘stay here, don’t move’ and then nodded to John before heading to the front door. Simon and Kyle slid open the back door and slipped onto the back porch. They likely split up. John skirted the couch and peered out the front window without adjusting any of the curtains yet to be opened for the morning.
“Delivery,” John said the word quietly.
It reached Johnny by the nod of his head. He unlocked the door and opened it with one foot wedged tight behind it.
“Got an overnight delivery for this address. Can you sign here?” The woman who stood at the door stood with the casual annoyance of someone who dealt with the public for a job. She held a tablet out toward Johnny, a medium-sized box resting at her feet.
“Course. How was your drive up?” He chatted with her with a warm smile. You glanced at John, who hadn’t moved from his post by the window. He had a phone in one hand, thumb flying over the keys. You slurped the tea in your mug.
“Muddy. I’m not looking forward to my drive back down.” She took the tablet back from Johnny and handed him the box.
“If you can keep to the dryer patches, you should avoid getting bogged on the way down.” Johnny offered it with a smile in his voice. He shifted the box under one arm, “If you get stuck, you can call the local towing company; we have them on speed dial after an extraordinarily wet spring last year.”
“Thanks, I have their number saved in my phone already. It’s good to know they can save me from up here, too.” She waved at Johnny as she started for the stairs, “Have a good day.”
John remained at his perch, minute shifts of his head tracking the delivery van until it became obscured by trees. Johnny shut and locked the front door. You had never understood why they did that when there was no one within a reasonable distance. Jumpy fuckers. Kyle and Simon returned from their outside observations as John and Johnny converged at the kitchen table. Their whispered voices were too quiet and full of unfamiliar words as they were joined by the other two. The box sat, edges neatly lined up with the table.
You were the only one who flinched when John’s phone rang.
He answered it with a gruff ‘Price.’ You hadn’t realized any of them were tense until their muscles relaxed in reaction to John’s.
“Kate,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “The next time you are sending us a box, especially one with a battery label, a touch of warning would be appreciated. Nearly took out a civilian who dropped off a box that smelled faintly of machine oil. We were going to start bomb procedures if you hadn’t gotten back to me in the next two minutes.”
Bomb procedures? How often were these four near bombs to have a plan for them? Smoothing the questions from your face, you knew the timing had worked as Simon’s glare found no purchase in your expression. His hate had a refreshing flavor as compared to Sarah’s saccharine lies. You hoped she was dead. Maybe you’d meet her on your walk through death. Your eyes remained locked with Simon’s as your mind wandered away from the control panel, the imaginings of the beyond tinkling in your ears.
You did not return to the moment until you heard John refer to you.
“—Wife will go with Simon. You two need to work out how to keep everyone’s vital organs in their bodies.”
Before either of you could protest, Simon, because of his bullheaded nature, and you, because you don’t know what the hell you were just volunteered for, John cut a glare across the two of you.
“Simon is the most capable of keeping our wife safe while placing all the sensors Kate has sent our way.”
Kyle took a single look at your face as this news settled. His lips quirked. He laughed so hard he had to walk out of the dining space and around the wood stove. The jerk at least made a pit stop to press a kiss to your cheek, still chortling. You poured out your tea, too annoyed to deal with its tepid nature. The mug went in gently, clinking against the basin. It gave you an excuse to not pout at Kyle’s laughter.
“Chin up, dearest. You won’t be the first person Simon has delivered to safety who he detests.” Kyle rested a hot palm on your thigh. The weight of his palm eased the fear teasing at your heart. You didn’t believe Simon couldn’t keep you safe, bit more of a hunch that he wouldn’t purposefully hurt you.
“Not helpful, Kyle.” Your brows fought the muscles between them to touch. It was too damn early in the morning to have a hate-induced headache.
“You’ll be fine. We will only be a shout away.” Kyle tipped his head atop yours, torso nestled between your knees, as John laid out the plans you still did not understand. The small hum he let out when your fingers dug under the edge of his shirt warmed your heart. Digging into the muscles at the base of his spine, you found them stiff and knotted with all the tension he held from his position as an alpha and likely from his job. A low rumble started deep in your throat. Kyle melted.
This must have been the other half of what your grandfather had told you about, soothing alphas. Simon would be a no-go for easing his worries. That left the last task for you to complete before death pulled you beneath the dirt would be loving John. You could hold on for that.
Loving John would have to wait until you no longer wanted to smother him with a pillow. The conversation you had paid no real attention to had landed you here—here being deeper into the woods with the alpha, who would happily shove you into a badger hole if it meant getting his pack back into the neat boxes he expected them to sit in. The two of you were meant to place a variety of sensors at specific points to create a more secure barrier against whoever had started to take out the rescued betas.
You were dying either way. At least a bullet between the eyes would be mostly painless. You snickered at your own morbid thoughts as you forced your weary body over another felled tree. The idea of falling back into Scorpio’s—and more particularly Sarah’s—hands did leave you with a queasy sense of dread.
Simon’s huff of annoyance at your inability to move at the pace of a soldier in peak physical performance struck a chord.
Fuck him.
Something had broken through the forests of fear in your head when you woke this morning. You didn’t want to live in the dark anymore. Time slipped by faster as it neared the end, and if you were going down, you wanted to leave claw marks on every wall as proof that you existed once and deserved to be remembered. Let Simon be your first mark.
The taste of Johnny still lingered in your molars. It made you bold.
“Do you hate all new people in your life, or am I special?”
Without looking back, you can’t decide if the ominous creaking you hear is Simon’s molars or a branch that suffered under his anger.
“I don’t hate you.” He ground the words out like playing millstone was his job.
Now that startled a laugh out of you. Not a tinkling little thing, no, the laugh that erupted out of you went on and on. You leaned against a tree, eyes filling with tears from how hard your ribs squeezed. Doesn’t hate you? Yeah, and the moon is purple.
Simon placed a sensor while you dissolved into mirth. When you could breathe again, tears wiped from your cheeks, and only a small hitch in your breathing, you looked up at him from where you leaned on the tree that supported you.
“Right. You don’t hate me. Sure. Do you lie that effectively when you’re doing whatever secret jobs you do for Kate?”
Whatever feelings he had been masking before were fully on display now. Every muscle you could see tightened against his bones. He stomped up to you on silent feet. Each step that should have thundered and instead landed silently ratcheted your laughter to the operating table, leaving you squirming as the taste of copper flooded your tongue.
“Interlopers will find no warmth in my nest.”
He turned, those long legs creating distance you would have to run to overcome. Running would trigger a coughing fit. You refused to prove weakness in the form of blood in your teeth to Simon. He might not want to hurt you like Scorpio did, but he wouldn’t help you either.
So, you trudged. His back became the mountain you aimed for. Twenty minutes into following him, the cawing of your crows started. You called to them as you always did with a quick ‘hello, hello’. They flew ahead and circled back, familiar with your pace. Your crows called to you, their harsh cries grounding in ways nothing else you had ever found. Footsteps slowed. Something felt off in your bones.
Looking down at your hands, you slowly curled the fingers of one hand and then the other. They didn’t close down to fists; the skin of your fingertips were tight against the swelling. A questioning caw at your feet surprised you into a cough. Bones shouldn’t ache. Yours did, though. Your ribs and fascia fighting to keep you from shattering under the strength of your incoming demise.
Sipping air between your teeth like Kyle’s fancy drinks, you turned toward home. Nearly twenty crows, a murder now, fluttered near your feet and above you in the branches as you moved; they were your favorite part of living. If you passed out, doing so closer to home would make you easier to find. Stars only knew if Simon would report where you lay after he stepped over your limp body.
He didn’t know you well enough to truly hate you. That thought tied itself neatly around your scapulae, pulling them tight. Were you the problem? Or were you the mirror he couldn’t stand to face? Why could these structural thoughts never arrive with a clear mind and a hand to hold?
Crows scattered with warning caws and a light dusting of disturbed earth. Simon must have finished placing all the sensors. He followed behind you, silent as an owl. Your murder drifted from branch to branch, sentries to your slow trudge homeward. Stopping, a hand pressed firmly into some bark, you took a moment to breathe…and run the detonation cord between you and Simon. If you were going to die, you wanted to force him to confront himself and not lay his fears at your feet. You had enough of those all on your own.
“I don’t think you hate me, Simon.”
He grunted a reply. You continued.
“I think you envy me.” Cut off with a cough, you stared at the specks of blood along your forearm as you continued. “I think you’re scared of me. Not because I could win in a fight, but because your pack is calmer and happier than you’ve seen them in a long, long while. Everything you can do for them wasn’t enough to make Johnny laugh, or John smile, or Kyle sit still.”
Fault lines give warning rumbles before they break. You ignored the ones from behind you and started walking again. When his voice came, the quiet volume surprised you; the hate being spewed did not.
“I don’t envy you for anything. You’re nothing more than a beta that’s broken beyond bearing. You won’t replace me—”
“I can’t replace you, Simon,” you snarled at him, feet nearly slipping in the dirt as you fought your way up the small hill. The silence that followed lifted every hair on your body and whispered to your soul that the trees listened and judged.
He chuffed from behind you, clearly bent on arguing the point. Spinning once you topped the rise, you stared down at him.
“They don’t-”
You cut him off with a yell—a match to the wick that would disturb the careful balance of the nitroglycerin. Boom.
“I am dying! I can’t replace you because I will be lucky to see five full years away from Scorpio! And that’s only if you all are actually able to keep me safe.”
Holding his eyes as this information sank in, you chose not to let the flash of relief that crossed his face take root in your soul.
The snap of a twig had both of you searching out the source of the sound. Johnny stood there, staring at you.
“What?”
That softly spoken word sucked at you—passing too close to the sun, and now you were hurtling toward a fiery death.
“Johnny, I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” you held both hands low and wide fingers to the sky as if approaching a cornered animal.
“Johnny,” Simon started, cautiously.
He appeared before you in a flash, throwing you over his shoulder as he ignored Simon’s calls. Running the entire way to the house, Johnny didn’t pause to remove his—or your—shoes before he hurtled up the stairs. You weren’t welcome upstairs.
“No, Johnny. Simon doesn’t want-”
“Fuck what Simon wants, I need you here,” he dumped you on the edge of the massive nest atop the largest mattress you have ever seen. “Do the others know?”
He pulled your boots off roughly, throwing them before ripping off his own. He climbed into the nest, pulling you to the center and ripping a blanket from the constructed wall. Johnny rested his head on your stomach as he covered both of you in darkness that exuded his scent.
“No. Only Kate. It was my condition to coming here, that she couldn’t tell you.”
“Would you have ever told us or died alone and left us to find you rotting in your bed?” The words were harsh. What came after your breaths stopped hadn’t occurred to you. There was no good answer to his question.
You could do nothing but hold him as he wept into you. Curling down around him, you held him as best you could. Johnny’s tears were permission to weep for yourself, to mourn the loss of your men. You would miss them, all of them. While it might have been easier to never know them, you can’t regret learning to love them. And you do love them, even Simon, who would rather you died today than a few years from now.
Sleep stole you away from there, comforted and safe, invited into something you had never known before.
need alpha ellie with a beta reader. ellie so frustrated that reader cant smell their pheromones urghhh
summary · ellie doesn't feel she's good enough for you, not a "perfect match." quick spoiler, she's wrong.
watch out · alpha!ellie, beta!fem!reader, pheromones, omegaverse au, frustrated, fluff, requested, a/n — short and not very detailed as I wrote it during a time of stress.
ellie was pacing the living room.
you were curled up on the couch with a blanket over your body pretending very hard not to notice, but the sound of her shoes against the floor made your eyes flick over to her every time she took a step.
"this is stupid," she finally said.
"what's stupid?" you asked.
she stopped, rubbing her nose in frustration.
"I'm right here. you can see me, and you can hear me, but I still smell like nothing to you."
sadness panged your heart for a second at that. not because she was upset, ellie got upset about lots of things, but because she was upset because of you, even if you couldn't control it.
"I'm a beta. I know it's... different, but I can't smell you no matter how hard I try." you reminded her gently. suddenly, you realized you were feeling self conscious with ellie for the first time in a long time.
"I know. that's not the problem, I just—I hate that my body's not affecting you. like I can't just instantly make you feel good biologically," she groaned, dragging a hand down her face.
she finally came over, dropping down beside you on the couch. she sat too close, thigh pressed to yours and knee bouncing.
you sighed in relief after finding out it was insecurity and not uncertainty. you reached out without thinking, and yohr fingers brushed the sleeve of her shirt. she softened up instantly.
see, that was the thing about ellie: she was loud with her feelings, sure, but the moment you touched her she melted. your mouth twitched as you held back an anused smile while she nudged herself closer to you, burying herself in the crook of your neck.
"I don't need to smell you to feel safe with you, els." you murmured softly.
"but it's different." her shoulders slumped a little. you felt a little guilty, but she was so cute when she pouted.
"different how baby?" you smiled reassuringly.
"with omegas it's automatic. they relax, I relax, and everything clicks into place. fuck uh, not that you don't, sorry, but I just don't know how to settle with a beta. and that makes me feel... bad, at this. like maybe I'm not the best option for you," she explained.
"ellie, you already take care of me." you shifted closer, turning your body toward hers.
"I... do?" she repeated slowly to make sure she'd heard you correctly.
"mhm. you always walk on the outside of the sidewalk, you check all the locks in the house before bed, you make sure I eat when I forget, and you even warm the blankets before you hand them to me," you smiled.
"yeah, but, I just feel like I'm not right for you. I want to be, but it doesn't feel that way y'know? if you were an omega, just my scent would make you feel safe."
"you are. no one else ever could be," you said and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
despite all the lies she'd been told to throughout her life, she finally belived you.
Plot: Your Indie gaming company competed with Eddie Munson's, an Alpha. As a Beta, you were proud that you were at the same level as an Alpha, but you weren't going to admit you liked bickering with Eddie about deals you fought for. Yet, it all came crashing down when you presented for a second time... And Omegas were never considered for high positions in any industry. You were bound to lose everything.
+18, omegaverse, secondary presentation, beta to omega reader, "enemies" to lovers, lots of teasing, heat, pain mention, reader going into a depression, lots of angst, eddie being sweet, kissing, yearning, hurt/comfort, happy ending
Full Masterlist of MMM26 here, an event from @stmarchmm
Reblog if you like; engagement is important.
DAY 18 - PRESENTATION OF DESIGNATION
"You have to be fucking kidding me."
You dropped the folder containing your company's balance and deals as you leaned back in the leather chair. This mother fucker took another shareholder from you. As a CEO of an indie game developing company, you were always on the lookout for new producers or people who would invest in your games. There was only one problem.
Eddie Munson.
He was the CEO of another gaming company, and for a year, you two had been looking into the same people, on and on, fighting for the deals, fighting for the investors. Some you won, some he won. This time, he won. He had settled on better revenue for them, even when that was a stupid move. If the game didn't succeed, he would be in trouble.
But his games always succeeded. Even in small communities, his games were recommended on streams, as were yours. As a Beta, you always thought you could be as successful as Alphas, and you were with proof. But he was always the needle that poked through the pillow where you tried to rest.
Your cellphone rang, and you already knew who it was without even looking at the ID. You grabbed it, and answered with a swipe on the screen.
"I swear to god, Munson—"
"I wish that you would say hello at least once." You groaned in exasperation as you rubbed your eyes together, another headache coming in.
"What the fuck do you want, knothead?"
"Jeez, just wanted to check on you after you received the news about the investor's choice. That was all. Wanted to see if you were crying or throwing a fit." You heard the Alpha chuckle, and you wanted to kill him. You really did.
"Oh yeah, I bawled my eyes out. Ripped my chair into pieces and all."
"You need someone to comfort you, sweetheart?"
"Piss off." With that, you hung up, groaning loudly as you opened your drawer to get your painkillers out. Maybe you fucked up in that interview because you had been feeling sick lately, but you weren't going to let that stop you.
You cursed the day you gave him your phone number. But it was almost a ritual that whenever one got a deal, and the other didn't, you would call up each other to show it off. It was… funny. You weren't going to admit that you always expected his calls, nor you got giddy each time you pressed on his contact to call him.
Tomorrow there was a developer convention, where many CEOs, investors, and shareholders attended to strike deals with potential gaming companies, like yours… like Eddie's.
You will make that handsome bastard cry.
—
The room felt hotter than usual. You took medication for your fever, but it seemed as if it didn't do anything. It didn't do shit. You could barely focus on conversations, even if you made a few deals and sealed some meetings with investors, you could feel yourself weaken each minute that went by.
"You moping over here?" You heard that gruff voice right next to you, side eyeing his profile. He looked good, way too good. Tight black button-up shirt, black pants, hair up, scruff tidied up… Damn.
"Why would I? Got Blizzard to invest in our new game." He hummed at your answer, then he turned to look at you, clearing his throat.
"Seeing you in a dress is something different." You were a bit surprised to hear that, and something stirred within you. You fixed your posture with your long dress, pretending that the heels you were wearing were not murdering you.
"I am assuming that is a compliment."
"Sure." You stayed silent, pretending not to be overjoyed by it, but the headache gave you a sharp sting at the back of your head, making you wince. He frowned, nose flaring. "You alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" He fully turned to look at you, tilting his head.
"Did you change your perfume?" Huh? You turned towards him, giving him a cocky smile.
"You've been smelling me, Munson?" His eyebrows twitched for a second, his face getting closer to yours. Your breath hitched, his cologne invading your nostrils.
"Didn't say that. It's just that this perfume is strong and sweet. Never smelled it before on anyone."
"I could say the same to you. Your cologne is pungent, and it's almost dizzying." You weren't lying about that. It was making your lungs feel intoxicated, or filled with an intense leather smell that was just too potent. He was frowning at you, getting even closer.
"I am not wearing any cologne." Your eyes fluttered for a second, feeling your throat closing up. His eyes widened slightly as you stumbled forward, his hands coming to grab your forearms. "Holy shit, are you okay?"
Your skin was hot, way too hot, and he put the back of his hand on your forehead. You were sweating, eyes closing as your head swirled. Your hands held onto him to keep yourself standing, and suddenly you knew you started moving, and words were being said to you, but you couldn't quite understand them. You were disoriented, feeling your insides turning in pain as your head pounded.
And maybe it was the fever, maybe it was the pain, but your world turned black.
—
Your eyes opened with a gasp, sitting up on a bed. You felt yourself being completely drenched, still wearing the dress, but it felt so sticky. Your legs rubbed against each other, and your eyes widened as you felt something sticky, slippery, between them.
Eddie came out of the bathroom with a handkerchief against his mouth and nose. He was breathing heavily, and you noticed you weren't in a place you knew. Your throat was dry as his scent was making you float, and you fell back on the bed, gasping for air.
"Where am I? What are you doing here?" You asked, and his voice was muffled against the cloth he had against him.
"My hotel room. I called the paramedics, and they should be here any time soon to take you to the clinic—"
"The clinic? Paramedics? For a fever? Are you crazy?" You tried sitting up again, but your hands flew to your belly as a sharp pain came through. He was far away from you, and you could hear him growl as he pressed himself against the wall.
"It's not a fever, you're in heat." What?
"Huh!? I am a Beta! I don't have heats!" He breathed once more into the cloth, closing his eyes as if containing himself.
"You are in a presentation heat!"
What? No… You could only present once in your life; that wasn't true. It cannot be true. It is a lie, wasn't it? A play of cards he was doing to disorient you? But then you heard it, the whine coming to your throat. You could never do that sound before. You heard it from Omegas but never from Betas. No. No. No.
"That's— not possible!" You grunted, clenching your eyes as your head stabbed and stabbed. There was a knock on the door, and Eddie quickly went to open it. People came rushing in, and you were placed on a gurney they got in. This wasn't happening. You probably had mono, or something else, not this. Not a heat. No.
But it was.
For a week, you stayed at that clinic, tests being done, blood work, x-rays… You had presented. You were stunned as the doctor explained it to you. Second presentations were rare, but not impossible. It happened one in a hundred Betas. You were that one. That insignificant fucking one.
You hadn't spoken with anyone yet. Your colleagues sending you 'get well' messages, but you didn't respond. How could you? You were going to lose it all. Even at home, you were a little bit hollow. You couldn't help but cry when your instincts made you make a nest in your bed.
Eddie messaged you, tried calling you, but you wouldn't answer. You knew that talking to the Alpha might ignite something within you that you weren't ready to find out. You weren't ready to face it.
But a knock on your door made you get up from your bed, and even before you could reach the door, you could smell him. Authentically him. You shouldn't open, but you wanted to. You really wanted to because you wanted to smell him even more.
You trembled as you opened the door, seeing him standing there with some flowers. He noticed the pain in your eyes as he examined you.
"Get well… flowers?" He said awkwardly, and you felt your eyes burning as you let him into your house. A horrible decision since his scent was going to stick to the walls, the couch, and even the marble surfaces of your kitchen. "Why didn't you answer my texts? Or anyone of your company?"
"Why does it matter?" He frowned as he placed the flowers on the table, sensing your distress in just a second.
"What is going on in that mind of yours?" It was the first time he saw you like this. Vulnerable, defeated. He didn't like it.
"What is going on in my mind? Well, the fact that I am now an Omega for one, so that happened." His breathing hitched at that, and you noticed it immediately. "The fact that now I will lose everything I worked for. So why does it matter if I talk to my coworkers? Why does it matter that I keep in contact with you?"
He was stunned into silence, confusion written all over his face. You could smell some anger on him, now being able to detect his emotions through his scent.
"Lose everything? What the fuck are you talking about?" You scoffed, shaking your head.
"I built all of this as a Beta. Omegas don't belong in higher positions because people say they're volatile. That we are hard to work with because we have to take a week off from work because of our heats. How can I keep my job like this? People will not take me seriously. Not investors, or shareholders, or the bank. Not even you, Munson."
He took a deep breath in, his face hardening as he took a step closer. You blinked at how his posture changed, how he was huffing through his nostrils.
"Now, why would I not take you seriously? Because you're an Omega? Really?"
"Everyone will choose you, an Alpha, over me. I won't have a line of people to provide for my company. You won." He let out a humorless scoff, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair.
"Has this always been a competition to you?" You frowned at him, not understanding where his anger was coming from.
"Wasn't it?" Silence fell between the two of you, and he sighed heavily, shaking his head.
"I'm disappointed that you think that because you're an Omega, you're no match for me. It really isn't you." You squinted your eyes, taking a step closer to him.
"I am not me anymore!"
"Yes, you are! You went to business school! You have the knowledge to fuck me over in every sense of the goddamn word! Just because you're an Omega now, doesn't change the fact that you know how to run a company, for fucks sake!"
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Eddie Munson, an Alpha, always saw you as his equal, even when you were a Beta. Even right now, a full-fledged Omega, he still saw you as an equal to him… And maybe that's why you had always liked him so much. He never belittled you for being a Beta when he got the deals, and you didn't.
But something in his words vibrated a little too much in your head.
"Fuck you over? In every sense of the word?" He stood still, breathing a little heavy as he tried looking away. His hands were on his hips as he tried to keep himself upright.
"I… I never really saw it as competition… I saw it as… a way to get closer to you." You stood frozen. Was that a joke? He always made sure to get under your skin, and you would get overjoyed when he did, but you never thought it would be something positive for him as well.
"Get closer to me? Like… friends?" He sighed heavily, grunting as he stepped away, running his hands over his face, while your heart felt like it was coming out of your chest.
"Fuck, no. I— I mean, maybe? I just know I wanted to be close to you, but I was never going to take that chance with you because… You don't like me, so…"
"Who said I didn't like you?" The words came tumbling out of your mouth because you could stop yourself. You covered your mouth with wide eyes, and you could smell his scent spike at the revelation, his eyebrows raising in question.
"What?"
You both stood there, stuck to the ground, and the room grew heavier and heavier. The Alpha before you fixed his posture, tilting his head. You stuttered a bit, clearing your throat. You could barely smell the flowers he brought, because your head just swirled all around him. Fuck, you outed yourself.
"I… I get happy when you call me, even if it is to mess with me. I mean, not happy, excited? I—" You couldn't form words as you stuttered, and his lips turned into a cocky grin, his arms coming to cross over his chest.
"So you're saying you are into me." Your eyes widened, pointing at him.
"You are into me! You just said it!"
"Nope, never did." He took a step forward, as you took a step back, your defenses coming up as you looked at the door of your bedroom, wanting to go and curl up in your nest for safety. His face became serious again, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck. "It's just… messy, I guess…"
"Why so?" You asked, and his eyes went to look for yours.
"Jesus H Christ, you really are going to tell me you don't feel it?" You blinked a few times, realizing what he had just said.
"Feel what?" He scoffed, shaking his head.
"The goddamn tension, sweetheart." You mocked him, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Don't know what you are even talking about." He stayed silent for a second, and you gulped heavily, nervously licking your lips. "I am a Beta… Or was… I didn't really think I had a chance… I just thought you would always look at me as a competitor, not as a partner…"
His scent sweetened, and you couldn't help the little purr that rumbled in your throat. Your arms fell to your sides as he took a step closer, then another, until he was towering over you. His hand came to cradle your cheek, and you saw him leaning in, taking your breath away. He was all over you, your apartment, and—
You pulled away from his grasp, his hand hovering in the air.
"What—"
"You're making a move now because I'm an Omega… You are not— If you had really wanted me before, you would have done something earlier…"
He could see the redness forming in your eyes, tears starting to build as you bared your heart to him. His hand fell, and he chuckled, shaking his head. You frowned, offended, opening your mouth to tell him off, but he interrupted you.
"I didn't make a move before because I thought you saw me as a knothead Alpha. I thought that you, as a Beta, didn't want to be with someone like me. I didn't— I didn't want you to think I wanted to succeed you or anything like that, and I honestly thought you hated me for being… an Alpha." His voice was quiet, vulnerable, unlike any of the other times you heard Eddie talk.
Hate him?
"I never once thought of that… I never wanted to prove that I am better than you just because I am— was a Beta…" He nodded, then his gaze fell on you, a fiery one.
"Can we just please do what we have been wanting to do to each other for the past year? Your new designation really does not change how much I want you. It's still the same as before."
And finally, you let your body respond for you for the first time ever. Your arms moved to wrap around his shoulders, eyes brimming with tears from how overwhelmed you felt. His breath got caught in his throat as his arms finally embraced you, and his lips crashed into yours.
Lips you never thought you would touch or savour. Lips that you never thought would reciprocate the kiss that was happening right now. You could feel slick starting to pool in your underwear, and you moaned as his tongue ravaged yours. He growled when you pulled him closer, feeling his hard-on against your stomach.
He pulled away reluctantly, looking down at you with dilated pupils.
"We don't have to do anything now. I want you to be comfortable with what I just said. This isn't happening because you're an—"
"Omega, but it does ease things up a lot. So stop talking, please…"
"Fuck." His lips were on you instantly, ravishing your mouth as no one had ever done before. His hands wandering over your back, your hips, your ass, and your fingers are tangled in his hair, giving it a few pulls.
Your mind was filled with sudden fog, a heat running through your veins. The first touch of an Alpha after your re-presentation was making you sensitive. Way too sensitive. And needy. You were so goddamn needy.
You grabbed him by the shirt, not breaking the kiss for a second as you started backing up towards your bedroom door. He groaned into your lips, pulling away for just an inch so he could talk.
"Sweetheart, is that a nest?" You pulled away, eyes in shock as you turned your head to see your untidy nest, done with the things you had at hand. You felt like crying, feeling a bit like a failure.
"I've never done a nest before… It's my first time, so I know it's not good, and it doesn't look okay—" His hands cradled your cheeks to turn your gaze back on him.
"It's a beautiful nest, Omega… You did good… We just need to add something to it." You chirped at the compliment, eyes half lidded as you stared at him with a dreamy look.
"What's that, Alpha?"
You were then pushed onto the bed, making you bounce with a gasp at the action. You held yourself up by pressing your hands on the mattress, and your eyes widened when you saw the smirk on Eddie's face as he started unbuttoning his shirt.
"My scent."
—
Eddie entered the office, holding folders in his hands. He was whistling as he passed the trophy shelves, including game of the year award. The office was big, cozy, and he then sat down on his chair, dropping the folders on the desk.
"You know, we should implement some more modern changes. It's been years, and we still present our projects with papers and folders." He complained as he rocked in the chair.
"Did we get the deal?" You asked, opening the folder, and he scoffed.
"Of course we did."
"Then I don't see a problem." Eddie mocked you on the side, doing faces, and you giggled, shaking your head. "You know that I can sense when my mate is doing something he shouldn't, right?"
"Maybe I wanted to get caught, love." You turned your head to look at him, shaking your head. "You feeling okay?"
"Not much nausea today. A bit overheated at times, but they go away." He straightened up in his chair, moving to press a kiss to your cheek. You found out you were pregnant a month ago. Having pups was never in your projects because, as a Beta, you couldn't have any… But ever since Eddie mated you two years ago, well… those projects changed a little.
"Good." He was leaning in to kiss you, only for a knock to interrupt you both. He groaned, looking at the doors. "Yes?"
A smiling Omega came in, Dustin Henderson. He was part of Eddie's company before you two decided to merge. Eddie had assigned him to be the head of the programming team, even if he was an Omega. Dustin was exceptional in his work… It only made your love for Eddie grow.
"So, Eddie, I have figured out the mechanics for the new fighting macros for Slicing—"
"Why are you talking to me?" He cocked his head, and you shook yours, rolling your eyes. Dustin chuckled nervously and then turned to you.
"Right— Sorry, habit still…"
"Don't worry, Dustin, I might be your boss, and also Eddie's, but I don't bite." You said softly, and your vice president wiggled his eyebrows next to you.
"Except for me~" You smacked the back of his head, and he just jerked down, rubbing the area you hit. Dustin rolled his eyes, bidding goodbye with just a wave before leaving the office. "Why did you do that!?"
