Johnny "Soap" Mactavish - I imagine Johnny's body temperature resembles a heater. Perfect for long ops in the winter and cuddling around Christmas time. Perfect for when you accidentally stay out playing in the snow to long and develop a cold and need someone to warm you up.
Unfortunately, summer isn't the same story. Due to Johnnys warm temperature and lack of knowledge on personal space, you find yourself waking up trapped in Johnny's arms. You squirm around trying to relieve yourself of the stickiness that has formed on your skin due to the heat, only to find his arms only lock tighter around you as he mumbles in protest.
Simon "Ghost" Riley - Simon would be the opposite of Johnny. His skin is cool to the touch, hands always sending shivers down your spine when they find their place on your body. He's capable at providing temporary relief from the miserable heat of the summer. Simon seems to find pleasure in planting his hands on your bare skin unexpectedly causing you to shriek.
While he's an amazing icepack for the summer, that chilliness stays around all year long. One winter morning, you find yourself awoken with a startled shriek when Simon decides he just needs to have his hands on you. His arms curl around you, his hands finding the warm skin of your chest. Your jolted awake by the sudden frigid touch. He shushes you softly as his hands begin to warm up and you finally begin to settle once more.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - Kyle is the definition of perfection. From his skin to his personality, and even his body temperature. He's warm enough to keep you nice and content during cold nights but also cool enough you won't wake up in the middle of the night to find a puddle of sweat dripping off you.
You find yourself curled up tucked under Kyle's arm, some comedy movie playing the background. Your soft laughs echo the room quietly as Kyle's hand plays with your hair. It doesn't take long until you start dozing off as Kyle quietly coos, petting your hair. Absolutely perfect.
Jonathan "John" Price - Much like Johnny, this man runs warm. John resembles a bear, hairy and warm and the perfect candidate for cuddling. Somehow, you never find yourself awoken by excessive heat radiating from him. You do find his warmth is required for when he drags you along on early morning fishing trips.
The cool morning air nips at your skin as John loads the boat. You shiver slightly despite having multiple layers of clothing on. Your shivering only worsens as the boat begins to move and a breeze whips through your hair. You soon find yourself planted beside John, hiding inside his jacket as he gently rubs your back cooing and mumbling apologies. Despite his verbal guilt, the smirk on his face tells a whole different story. Of course, that jerk had planned this, he knew you would run to him the moment you got too cold. Luckily you needed his warmth at the moment, but he better watch his back later as you most certainly plan to retaliate.
John wasn't stupid, it wasn't hard to tell your strange schedule had been caused by your sleep patterns or rather a lack thereof. Plus, if the bags under your eyes were enough to go off of and the constant yawns hidden between conversations.. you desperately needed some sleep.
He didn't know when it started exactly, or when he even started trying to help you. All he remembers is that one day he brewed an extra cup, delivered in to you before bed and by morning he had to come and wake you up personally from your deep slumber. And that worked for a while, enough that he gave you a box of the tea he used since you were convinced you had been bothering him this entire time.
Until it wasnt enough and he found you wandering around base past midnight, welding mask still on, and a heavy weight on your shoulders. He steered you back to your room, made sure you changed into some comfortable clothes, and ordered you to go to bed… just to find you sleepy by the next morning.
You got your work done to be fair, worked extra hard despite your constant yawns to get each and every new prototype out. But.. it didn't help that your sleep problems were caused by that too. He couldnt even count anymore how many times he found you up working on some new idea, muttering to yourself up until you fall asleep head flat on your desk. Not to mention the energy drinks you keep managing to hide between your tools. He had to draw his line when you walked into the rec room looking for your gloves.. hands covered in plasters and bandages.
“I know you’re tired because you’ve never slipped up this much.” He says, voice a little too firm for your liking but when you look at Kyle for help he quickly looks away, suddenly interested in the remote control.
“I accidentally brushed against a tool, it’s just some light burns I promise.” You try to argue, tucking your injured hands into the gloves you thankfully spotted on the back of the couch.
“You think i believe that?” He scoffs, crossing his arms firmly over his chest, as he narrows his eyes at you. “If you don't sleep properly in the next few days, i’m locking the door to your lab.”
You blink, and then smile a little, sure he must be joking. “I mean, i’ll try but you know i need to work.”
He doesnt even twitch, and you turn your head again, making eye contact with Soap whose also been no help until now when he grimaces. He’s not joking then.
“Alright- okay! I promise i’ll get some good sleep.”
You get banned not even after two days when he finds you sluggishly trying to weld at four am. A lock is soon secured on the doors to your lab and even your poor snack stash is left inside with it. Even when you plead with him, he just shrugs his shoulders. “Just fix your schedule and you can go back in.”
It didn't help that you were still a little terrified of him, and the team in general. You were close to Gaz, that much was obvious, but you seemed lost in your head a lot of the time compared to the soldiers. So you hadn't complained more than that, and he heard from Kyle that you had been making a conscious effort to try and get proper sleep, even visiting the infirmary. Still, it’d been a week since and if anything you look even more tired than before.
“What are you doing?” Kyle stops you on your third lap around base, the sun set and soon the clock will strike closer to midnight. John had sent him after you since you seemed far more comfortable around him than the rest of them. You swallow nervously, looking around but no one is here to save you now.
“I- i’m trying! I swear i am, i just..” You fiddle with the edge of your gloves, shoulders jumping at a closed door a corridor down. “I cant do it.. please I dont want to be kicked me from the team.” The look on your face is of pure misery and you step closer to let your head hang low,
“Kick you from the team? Who told you that?”
“Um.. Lieutenant Ghost did.”
Kyle mentally makes a note to tell off Ghost for scaring you of all people, even if he suppose it probably was a good way to make you take your health seriously. Until.. it got to the point you stressed too much over it
“No one’s getting kicked from the team for a lack of sleep.” He sighs before he pats your back, forcing you to start walking alongside him all the way towards the rec room. You’ve been avoiding it recently, mainly because you probably think John will catch you not sleeping. He just wants to see you taking care of yourself, that's all. “Stay here until you feel tired, okay? I’ll help you tomorrow.”
—
Contrary to his reassurance, the anxiety only eats at you more. There was nothing to fill your hands in the lab nor anything to distract you from the possibility of disappointing him. You were still beating yourself up about it when he stops by your room, knocking on the door.
Both Price and Kyle stand on the other side, to your horror and you immediately freeze up.
“You got some time to spare? We need to go pick up some things, could use the extra hands.” Of course you nod immediately, letting them lead you to his car. It’s cold out but he’s got heated seats which make you let out a soft sigh, staring out the window at how the moon shines above the city.
You’re in the backseat on your own whilst Kyle sits upfront, chatting with the Captain about one thing or the other.
“Oh— Captain, they said the drive might be longer because of a diversion.”
“How long?”
“An hour or two. Then actually packing it in will take a while aswell.”
For some reason that stuck out to you more than usual, even though it really shouldn't. It was kind of boring sitting at the back with nothing to do, even the music was slow and quiet, perfect for the late evening. There wasn't much else to do but stare out that window, and knowing you’d be here for at leadt an hour more. Well…
“I think they’re out.” John nudges Kyle, who is getting tired himself, to look back and check. Surely enough, you had fallen asleep easily against the door, cheek pressing into the seatbelt and body snuggled up.
John takes a turn or two more before finally stopping outside base again, having gone in a circle that only lasted half an hour really.
“Like a light.” Kyle chuckles, sliding out his seat and carefully towards your door. “Easy, i’ve got ya.” He hums, scooping you into his arms as you melt into them, too tired to care.
They had noticed it a month or so ago, when they took you out to analyse some weapons found and you fell asleep in the traffic on the wayback. Not to mention the countless other times over the years, silently dozing off without many knowing.
They take you back to your room, the soft scent of essential oils filling the air that Soap and Ghost had done while you were gone. You settle into the clean pillows, aswell as the hot water bottle tucked beneath the duvets too.
“Not even nine pm.” Johnny mutters, taking his phone out to get a picture else you try and argue against it tomorrow.
“Needs it, poor thing been working themself to the bone.” John hums, pulling the duvet up to your neck, the lamp still dim on your side table. There seemed to be a lot of things keeping you up, namely the dark and the nightmares which breed in it. This way, you’d be safe from all of that.
Your eyes twitch, and he holds his breath, but you just roll over, pulling the hot water bottle flush against your chest.
He ushers the two sergeants out, clicking the door shut behind him. Hopefully you’d get a much better sleep tonight, and dreams that would leave you smiling tomorrow at the mess. That is his favourite look on you after all.
————-/
idk i think this is a nothing burger but i was fighting to stay awake in the car the other day
Summary: a lonely and rejected witch catches the eyes of the four vampires that just moved into town. Their deep desire for the witch has only just begun.
<- Part one Series Masterlist -> regular Masterlist ->
The room is quiet when you awaken. Your body is warm with blankets draped over you with care. You shift, feeling your familiar sheets under you as a rush of nausea hits you from moving to much. You groan, trying your best to keep the nausea down. Opening your eyes, you find yourself back in your room. Confusion clouds your mind, weren't you just in town? Suddenly, all the memories from last night come crashing down on you at once.
You sit up quickly, making you wince at how stiff your body felt. Those two villagers attacked you. And a strange shadowy presence saved you. You think back to the man that healed your stab wound, how he comforted you. You lift your shirt up, only to find no evidence of the stab wound. Was it all a dream? No, theres no way. A glass of water on your night stand catches your attention. Filled to the brim with cold water, the ice cubes floating around in it have yet to melt.
You remember how the man's eyes were locked on yours, how he comforted you while the shadow behind him was beating the two men senseless. They were both obviously not human, but you've never encountered them before. Your mind goes back to Eleanor's gossip about the new vampires in town. The headache pounding in your skull hurts to much to proccess all this information now. You flop back down with a huff, thinking about what could've possibly went down last night.
After 10 minutes of laying there, you finally found the strength to get out of bed. Unfortunately theres things that needed to be done today, even after the traumatic and confusing night you had. You can still feel the anxiety simmering under the surface, but you force yourself to ignore it for now. The kettle on the stove howling a loud whistle breaks you from your thoughts, you quickly stand up from your seat at the dining room table and pick up the kettles handle with a mitten.
You pour it slowly over a bag of tea you made a few days prior from the herbs in your garden. Setting the kettle down, you now open the lid to a small jar, picking out one unpolished rose quarts crystal from inside, and popping it right into your tea like it was sugar. After drinking your tea, you clean up your mess and decide its time to stop stalling and go outside to tend to your garden.
You slightly sway as you attempt to walk to your room to start getting ready, catching yourself on the wall before your knees gave out. You feel a wave of dizzy hit you. Shaking your head to snap yourself out of it, you think back to the nausea you felt when that man was healing your wound. Opening your bedroom door, you take a seat on your bed in hopes of calming down.
The dizzying feeling dispears after a moment, making you thankful. Theres chores that need to be done today, you wouldn't want yourself to feel sick throughout the day, especially now the season is getting hotter. You stand up carefully, before making your way to your closet. hopefully keeping yourself busy will distract you from all these unanswered questions.
~♡~
The sun is hot as it beams down on you. You wipe your face with the garden gloves you have on, finally putting down the basket you were using for harvesting. Theres been a creeping feeling of eyes on you all day. Its been hours since you've started working outside, but the strange feeling of being watched hasn't gone away once. Lurking in the shadows inbetween the trees, simply watching you work.
It doesn't feel necessary threatening, but its definitely there, and it makes you slightly nervous. Throughout the day you tried multiple times to spot who or what was watching you so intensely, but you have yet to find a single thing between the thick trees. You are very sensitive to these things, so its easy to point out what and where the feelings were coming from, but you still come up with nothing during the hours of being outside. So you ignore it until you have full evidence of something truly being there.
You sigh out in exhaustion, you begin to feel slightly light headed from the heat. So you sit on the floor in hopes that would help the familiar nauseating feeling. But it doesn't do much. You lay back on the grass, letting yourself relax to attempt to relieve the sick feeling you've had since you woke up. After a few minutes of laying down against the warm grass, you start to drift off. The exhaustion from both yesterday and today's events finally getting to you.
While drifting off, you could hear faint talking, slowly getting louder as they approach. Their voices are low as multiple of them speak. But your to far gone to be alert. You manage to catch a few words as you finally drift to sleep.
"-i expected this"
"Over working themselves-"
But the voices are to far away to catch anything else. Being drowned in your mind as you fully succumbed to the much needed sleep your body has been craving since you got out of bed this morning.
The sun beams down on your skin as you feel a slightly cold pressure against your arm. Your body doesn't react. But another soft cold touch nudges your cheek, making your head move ever so slightly. You open your eyes, finally coming back to proper consciousness. You must of startled whatever was nudging you, because it hurriedly scurried away from you in a dark blur of movement.
You sit up on your elbows while looking in the direction the inky blur of movement disappeared too. Your head pounded at the sudden movement, making you groan and reach up to cradle your head. You sit up properly. Looking at all the unfinished work you still had to do in your garden. Your body disagrees with the idea of continuing to working. You sigh in defeat, finally raising the white flag while you take off your gloves and stand up. You sway as you stand, but manage to successfully make it to the front door. Unaware of the four pares of red eyes watching you from the shadows in concern and guilt.
While taking a shower, you think back to the night before. The magic that man used had to be the cause of the sudden sickness that followed you all day. You lather the body wash over you while you think. Large amounts of magic towards the body can make one feel extremely sick in the healing process. Chills cover your skin at the thought of being stabbed, the feeling will never leave your mind. You continue to shower and try to think of something else to distract your mind from the traumatic memories.
~♡~
Over the next three days it seems the feeling of a lingering presence doesn't leave the air. Whether you're outside, or inside, the feeling of being watched doesn't leave. You've grown use to it at this point. Even though you are curious, and slightly unnerved. The strange energy is hard to decipher, it feels steady and focused, but soft around the edges, and Sometimes it changes completely, but it still holds the same level of intensity. Its energy is hidden well by whatever is watching, Under the leaves and branches of the forest like its trained to do so. Hidden so well it would be easy to not even notice it at all, but you know better then that.
The sun shines through the kitchen window while you make your morning tea. You open your jar of crystals to pop one into your tea, but you find you have used all of the small healing stones. They sit in a dish next to the tea pot, begging to be recharged and used again. You huff out a frustrated breath. You weren't planning to go back to the water fall for more river water for quite some time. But it seems fate has other plans for you.
You recharge all of your crystals in a pot of river water, setting it under the moonlight for a full night. And now it was time to trek back to the river for more. Grabbing your clay pot with a lid, you set it in your bag carefully. Before making your way out the door. The walk to the falls was roughly a 20 minute walk, you think about which spell you could use to lighten your bag as you near the river. You could hear the flowing water when you suddenly feel a drop in the air, making you stop in your tracks.
The air is heavy and full of authority, like you just stepped into a enclosed room with a lion. Its guarded and protected on a deeper level then meets the eye. Looking around, you once again find nothing. You begin to feel anxious at the quietness of the forest. No birds chirp, no bug hum. Just silence. You quicken your pace to the falls, in hopes of leaving the area as soon as possible. But little did you know, you had crossed into freshly marked vampire territory.
The water fall comes into view, its loud water crashing into the rocks as it shines in the sunlight, the water flowing quickly at the bottom. You set your bag down on the grass, opening it to take out your clay pot to catch the water. You sit down on your knees at the edge of the water, pot in hand while you lean forward to dip it into the rusing river. Unaware of the presence behind you, watching you with a slightly fond look on his face.
His voice almost makes you lose your grip on your pot "Hello there" his gruff voice cuts through the sound of the rushing water. You turn around, deer caught in headlights at his undetected appearance. He stands a couple feet away from you, his mutton chops adoring his face, along with a bucket hat to shade his face from the sun. His presence takes you off guard entirely. "Oh!" You stand, arms clutching your pot full of water to your chest "I didn't notice you there!" You say, it meaning more then just words.
Your witch senses didn't notice him approach at all. Usually humans bring the loudest energy with them no matter where they go, but you didn't notice this man at all. He takes you in for a moment, glancing down to the clay pot of water in your hands, before flickering back up to your face. He smiles, taking a dew steps closer to you. "You're alrigh'" he says, before continuing "i just moved in around here, with three others" he adjusts his hat, before fully making eye contact with you now that hes closer.
You feel your heart stop, seeing his red eyes watching you, knowing you can finally see he's not human like you originally thought. These were the vampires Eleanor was talking about. You've never met a vampire before, nor did you think you ever would. They aren't super common, they stay hidden in dark castles and away from civilization. Smart, humans hate anything that isn't human. He lets you feel the emotions tumbling through your chest without trying to change them. He feels the fear brew your heart, the surprise and awe, and the curiosity blooming beneath all of it.
He tilts his head at you with a small smile, waiting your reaction at his unspoken confession. He's aware you are a witch, they could all smell it from a mile away. He wouldn't of revealed himself so quickly if you weren't. You recover quickly after "o-oh I see" you nod at his words, sensing him trying to be friendly. But his eyes hold a intensity as they linger on you. "I live in the forest too" you say almost innocently, not knowing what else to offer as you try not to bring attention to your surprise at him being a vampire.
He nods his head like he didn't already know that. "Do you come to the falls often?" He questions, making you nod "yes. I come here to get river water" you glance down at your pot, your reflection staring back at you in the rippling water. You hesitate to ask the next question "is this your...territory?" He chuckles softly "yes. It is" you deflate slightly, thinking that means you won't be able to come back to get river water anymore. You'll have to find new alternatives to recharge your crystals.
He feels the disappointment pang in your chest and the way your shoulders droop slightly. How cute. "You're still allowed to come here" you look up at him surprised "really?" He nods "really" you think about how there's other vampires who own the land as well, you wouldn't want to step on anyones toes "but wouldn't that irritate the others?" He laughs at your words, if only you knew how obsessed they were with you already. Or how they are currently listening this conversation from the shadows "I don't think they would mind"
You look back towards the water, looking at how the water flows. You think back to the night you were stabbed, how those two could potentially be vampires as well. You hear shuffling behind you, making you turn back towards the man "price" he offers his hand, which you let one hand go of the pot to take his. His hand is cold as he wraps it around yours, giving you a firm shake as you offer your own name. After letting go, he looks up at the sky, before glancing behind him at the woods like something was there.
"Its best you start heading home. Its gonna be gettin dark soon" he says, his red eyes lingering on you as you grab the lid from your bag and lock it tightly on the pot full of water. "You're right. Ill be off now" you say, making him smile "have a good night sweetheart" and with that he dispears, a blur of quick movement following him. taking you off guard with how quickly he vanished into the woods. You forget vampires can move extremely quick if they wanted too.
You let out of breath of relief you didn't know you were holding. The whole experience had a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. You can't help but feel slightly excited at the thought of not being the only one who wasn't a human anymore. You put the pot into your bag securely and pick it up carefully. The walk back to your house will be slightly annoying with the extra weight on you. Walking back, you realise why you felt the energy shift when you arrived at the water fall. You were stepping into vampire territory without even knowing.
You sigh, having new neighbors is nerve wracking, but exciting. Especially now that you've officially met one of them. He seemed nice, maybe slightly intense under the surface, but nice nonetheless. You think about the others, would you ever get the chance the meet them properly? You secretly hope so. The feeling of intensity from the falls doesn't go away until you've reached your front doorstep, but you don't seem to mind it that much anymore.
To be continued...
<- Part one Series Masterlist -> regular Masterlist ->
Note: AAH THEY FINALLY MEET. Thank you for all the love from the first chapter! <3
Having a team full of shifters proved to be more difficult than you imagined, somehow the worst being when you aren't even on missions.
“Get in, now!” You hiss, leaning half your body out of the window with your arms crossed. It’s eight am, on a Saturday, and he’s been out there for the past half hour chirping and trilling right outside your window.
The little tree sparrow jumps in surprise, wings fluttering him upwards in a panic until he realises it’s you and he sheepishly hops over. It takes him a moment to half shifts, hanging onto your windowsill as he folds his wings back behind him. “Love, it’s the perfect time for some birdsong! I mean look—!” He pouts, pointing towards the sun rising higher and the sky slowly turning a bright blue.
“You’re so loud, Kyle and you can trill anyday!” You grab his hand and drag him back into the room. His wings flap as you pull him towards the bed, ruffling behind him when you force him to lay beside you.
“Sleep, now. I’m not dealing with a cranky bird later.” You grumble, pulling him into your chest before tucking the covers up high. It may be spring but the chill was still bad this early in the morning.
He lets out a small twit of annoyance before settling against your neck, wings stretching out behind him for a moment and then relaxing comfortably. Your fingers sneak into the feathers, brushing over the softness of each one until you hear the soft chips when he melts into the touch.
You knew exactly what it took for your bird to get all sleepy again, his wing folding over you protectively. Weekend mornings were always lazy and you’d damn well make sure of that even if it meant stroking every single feather of his.
—
inspired by the birds that forced me to close my windows the other day because they were genuinely shrieking outside my window 😭
Summary: The boys have to deal with your absence and the silence it leaves behind
Pairing: Poly 141
Word Count: 1,877 words
Warnings: Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, angst, Johnny is depressed, emotions
A/N: Just a little look at what was going on with the guys during chapter 54. Kinda sad but that's the point.
MASTERLIST
The barracks are quiet.
An uneasy silence has settled in the air. Every movement sounds loud, audible across space and time. John runs a hand down his face, staring at his computer. Just a few more days and he’ll be free. He’s already started packing his things, filing away important information for Simon to access later when he needs it, turning in confidential information to its appropriate channel.
Soon he’ll be blind to the happenings in the world, the things going on behind the scenes. He won’t even get to hear about them second hand. It’ll all be wrapped up in confidential conversations and files, locked in Simon’s brain. He’ll be blind for the first time in a long time and that almost makes him afraid.
What if something happens because I’m not there to stop it.
He shoves that thought back, forcing that anxious tremor that starts in his fingers. He can’t think like that. That’s going to lead him down a dark path, a path that won’t be fair to you, or to Kyle once he’s out. Kyle will have the same thoughts, but he’s always been more well-adjusted. He’ll settle into civilian life easily.
John won’t.
He already knows that.
“It’s too damn quiet.” Johnny says, making his way down the hall, disturbing the unsettling silence that had permeated the air. “It’s not the same. There’s no life here anymore.”
“We survived before her.” Simon says from his office. No doubt he’s getting himself set up with what he needs to take over as leader of the 141.
“Yeah, but now we’ve seen what it’s like with her. Now it feels like there’s somethin’ missing.” Johnny stops in the hallway between John and Simon’s offices. He looks both ways, but doesn’t choose which side to enter. “There’s nothin’ tae take up that silent space.”
You’ve been gone for hardly more than two days and already they’re losing their minds. He wonders how Johnny and Simon will survive with just the two of them if he’s already making this much of a ruckus without just you.
“It doesnae feel right.” Johnny says, finally entering John’s office, plopping down on the couch. “I miss her.”
“I know,” John says, powering down his computer with a sigh. Enough of that for today. “We all miss her.”
“Ye get tae see her long before we will.” Johnny almost whines, leaning his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
John can’t help but wonder if he’ll take over this office once it’s freed up. If Simon will add more members to the 141 to fill out the empty spaces. It wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t be part of the pack. They’d always be outsiders, and it’s hard to have a cohesive team when you know you’ll never be as close as you need to be.
They have the freedom to do what they want with the 141, now that there’s no initiative anymore. He’ll be shocked if Kate doesn’t dissolve the task force and instead promote Johnny and Simon to a different team, just the two of them.
He’s not sure what’s going to happen, and he doubts he’ll get to hear much of it once he’s gone. Simon will tell him what he can, which will be negligible. The basics, or hardly even that.
He’s going to be blind.
“What are you whinging about now?” Kyle asks, appearing in the doorway to John’s office.
“I miss our girl.” Johnny says, not even trying to brush off the fact he’s just been accused of whinging.
“I know.” Kyle says, moving to take a seat next to him on the couch. “We all miss her.”
Johnny leans against his side, resting his head on Kyle’s chest. Kyle runs a hand through his hair, freshly cut back to regulation length. John almost misses the messy, long mohawk he’d sported at the cottage. Maybe someday…
John shakes his head, forcing the thoughts away. Too many thoughts in the silence, now that he doesn’t have you to worry about taking care of. He does worry about you, but silently now. You sounded happy during your nightly calls, even if he could catch a hint of sadness in your voice. Just the barest hint of grief of missing your alpha.
Soon.
Simon appears in the doorway, leaning against the door jam. “What are we going to do with you?” He asks, staring down at Johnny.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t miss her.” Kyle says.
“I do. But we’re going to have to get used to it.” Simon says, sounding on edge.
The big alpha is missing you more than he’s letting on. He’d sulked after your teary goodbye, according to Kyle, resigning himself to sit on the rec room couch and stare at the wall until lunch. Even then it had taken Kyle coaxing him off the couch to get him to eat.
“You can always retire.” Kyle says.
Simon snorts. “Right.”
Kyle shrugs, patting Johnny’s head. “It’s always going to be an option.”
Silence falls once more between the four of them, John’s ears starting to ring with it. None of them move, still as snipers taking aim. The silence is loud without you here to move around, to make noise, to be a grounding presence among them.
“Let’s go to an early lunch.” John says, cutting off the tense stillness that had settled in. “Then we can run through some drills, keep our minds busy and out of the barracks for a while.”
None of them offer up any complaints.
They walk in formation to the mess hall, despite the fact they don’t have you in the middle to shelter from all sides. Old habits die hard. John’s hands feel empty as he scoops food onto his tray. He’s missing yours to add to, missing having both of his hands busy.
They even leave space for you to sit at the table, him and Kyle sitting further apart than they need to.
They eat in silence, the mess hall less busy so early. He’s itching to get his hands on a gun, force his mind into action to put his thoughts at ease. He doesn’t need to practice, not anymore, but he needs to do something to keep himself busy. Running drills will work for now. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s going to do once he retires. What’s going to keep his hands busy then? Maybe he’ll take up woodworking or knitting.
Wouldn’t that be a sight. He’d never hear the end of it.
Maybe you’ll enjoy the farm so much he can convince you to look into that possibility in the future. A farm would keep him busy, mentally and physically.
Maybe that’s the route he should go.
He’ll just need to convince you.
***
It’s even quieter at night.
John’s bed feels empty without you in it to keep him warm. It feels too big, too cold without you. Everyone had moved back into their rooms, the nest on his floor gone. His bed had even been made, cutting off that last link to you.
You left one of your sweatshirts for him, soaked in your scent. He holds it to his nose, breathing in, letting the sweet strawberries fill his brain. It’s not the same, but it’ll have to do for now. One of the first things he’s going to do when he gets you back is bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. Nip at that mark on your shoulder, get you all worked up for him so your scent just oozes off of you and permeates the air. He’ll roll around in it like a pup, coating himself in the sweet scent of omega.
Yeah, that’s what he’s going to do...among other things.
He’s restless as he lays there, having just gotten off the phone with you. It’s late but he can’t sleep. He’s half tempted to grab your giant bear off the floor in the corner and hold it, taking comfort in it like you do, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t bring himself to move much at all. His joints ache, his muscles cramping after working so hard earlier. He’s out of shape, but that hardly matters. Soon he won’t have to care about that. There will be no need to keep himself so sharp, so physically strong and able.
Maybe he’ll let himself go, take to being a couch potato. He can finally get caught up on all the TV shows Kate keeps telling him to watch.
A knock on his door does have him moving, his body turning as he rubs his face before he rises at the second knock.
Johnny is on the other side, mattress leaning up against his side. “Can’t sleep, sir. Doesnae feel right.” He murmurs softly.
John glances down the hall, Kyle behind him and even Simon standing in his doorway. He stares for a long moment before nodding, stepping back to allow them to enter.
They rebuild the nest, taking time and care to do it just right, like they were making it for you. Only you’re not here to partake in it, to enjoy the fruits of their labor. It’ll be just them, just the four of them like it used to be. You’re far away, somewhere safe and well taken care of. Will you nest there? Will you find it in you to make a nest out of Johnny’s old room? He hopes so. He hopes you’ll be that comfortable.
The four of them lay down on their respective mattresses, staring up at the ceiling. There’s one body missing, the one in the middle, the one they all need.
Johnny sniffles, hastily wiping his face.
Kyle and Simon move before they even realize it, curling their bodies around the beta. Simon wipes the tears from his cheeks as Kyle coos at him softly. John watches them for a moment before his gaze turns to his feet. He sits himself up, grabbing the big bear from where it sits on the floor in the corner still.
He eases himself in behind Kyle, gently pulling him back. Tears are streaming down Johnny’s face, his breaths catching in his chest with every inhale.
“Here,” He says softly, easing the giant bear into Johnny’s arms. He wraps himself around the giant plush, burying his face in its fur. John runs a hand across his head, gently stroking his mohawk. It still smells like you, the faint scent of strawberries wafting off of it.
Kyle presses in again, curling himself around the giant bear, his arms squishing around Johnny too. Simon presses up against Johnny’s back again, for once not saying anything about the bear. John moves in last, pressing up against Kyle’s back, draping his arm over them to rest on Johnny’s hip.
The four of them lay there, taking comfort in each other. It’s all they can do in your absence. They all miss you, they all feel that empty hole left behind. He can’t even imagine how it’s going to feel for Simon and Johnny once he and Kyle have left.
It won’t last long, he thinks. He hopes.
For all of their sakes.
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Summary: After asking Ghost to stay the night, Johnny feels jealous and can not accept loosing you.
Pairings: poly!tf141 x reader [A/B/O Universe]
Warnings: description of male genitalia, slight mentions of adult themes.
Words: 4k (decided to post a shoter chapter and another one on Saturday, the juicy one)
Previous - Next // Masterlist
Disclamer: (I do NOT allow anyone stealing, translating or imitating this work)
Don’t forget to reblog, like and comment!!
The sun rays entered through your window and pressed unpleasantly against your closed eyelids. With a slight groan, and after trying to hide your head further into the pillow, you sat up in bed, your feet resting lightly on the sea-green rug you had at the foot of the bed.
You rubbed your eyes somewhat harshly with your hands and tried to open them, attempting to let in the smallest amount of light possible, since it was still bothering you.
You tried to remember the events that had led you to this morning; however, your still-sleeping brain was incapable of remembering what had happened.
If that much light was coming in during the morning, it was because you must have overslept, which meant you were late for work.
“Shit”
After that realization, the first thing you felt was panic. Not the slow confusion of waking up after a deep sleep, but the sudden kind of panic that made your entire body react before your brain even understood what was happening. The sunlight slipping through the curtains was too bright, the room too warm, and when your hand reached blindly for your phone on the nightstand and you saw the hour, your stomach dropped immediately. You were late. Very late. The thought was enough to make you throw the blankets aside and rush out of bed without giving yourself even a second to remember the night before.
Your mind was still trapped somewhere between asleep and awake as you moved around the bedroom, getting dressed in the first clothes you could find and trying to mentally organize the list of things you needed to do once you arrived at the medical office.
You didn’t think about how strange it was that you remembered falling asleep on the couch but had woken up tucked into your bed. You didn’t think about the fact that, for the first time in months, you hadn’t woken up multiple times during the night to check the door. And you definitely didn’t think about the reason why you had slept so peacefully, because thinking about Ghost staying after you had asked him not to leave was something your exhausted mind wasn’t prepared to deal with right after waking up. Forming those thoughts required far too much effort for someone who was still moving around the room with their eyes half closed.
That was why, when your fingers found the black hoodie resting on the chair near your desk, you grabbed it without hesitation. You didn’t inspect it, didn’t question it, didn’t even properly look at it before pulling it over your head and walking toward the door. It was only when the fabric fell over your frame that a confused frown appeared on your face. The sleeves covered most of your hands, the shoulders sat too low, and the hoodie was much heavier than you remembered any of yours being. You stared down at yourself for a few seconds, your sleep-clouded brain trying to solve a problem it didn’t have enough energy for.
So you left your bedroom and rushed down the stairs toward the kitchen, half hopping as you tried to put on your mismatched socks without wasting a single second. Your hair was messy, your eyes still tired, and what was actually Ghost’s hoodie covered you almost completely, while you remained entirely unaware of what you had just done.
Ghost, however, noticed immediately.
He had been awake for hours already, because sleeping inside your house had been almost impossible. Not because he was uncomfortable; strangely enough, it was the opposite, and that was exactly the problem. The quiet of your home, the knowledge that you were asleep only a few meters away, the memory of your sleepy voice asking him to stay because you didn’t want to be alone — all of it had kept his mind painfully awake. So eventually, he had stopped pretending, gotten out of bed carefully without waking you, and ended up in your kitchen with a cup of tea in his hand.
He was leaning against the counter when you walked in, one forearm resting against the surface and his back mostly turned toward the doorway. He heard you before he saw you. Your sleepy, careless footsteps. The small annoyed sigh you let out under your breath when you couldn’t manage to put your sock on properly while hopping on one foot across the living room. The way you moved around the kitchen without hesitation because this was your space and you were too tired to remember you weren’t alone in it.
For some reason, that alone made something inside his chest tighten.
Then he turned around.
And every thought he had disappeared.
You walked past him without even noticing he was there, heading straight for the coffee machine like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Your hair was messy from sleep, your eyes barely open, your movements slower and softer than the careful version of yourself you showed everyone else on base. But none of that was what made him freeze.
It was the hoodie.
His hoodie.
The same black hoodie he had taken off the night before and forgotten on the chair in your bedroom. The one that carried his scent more than anything else he owned. The one you had accidentally pulled over yourself without realizing.
Ghost's fingers tightened so much around his mug that he was almost certain it would crack as his eyes followed you. The hoodie was way too big for you, hanging off your shoulders, covering your hands, wrapping around you in a way that made the difference between you almost painfully obvious.
The rational part of his brain knew it was an accident. He knew you didn't understand what you were doing. He knew that without your ability to scent properly because of the suppressants, you had no idea what smell was emanating from you at this moment.
But his alpha didn’t care about logic.
His alpha saw you, sleepy and comfortable and wrapped in him, and reacted.
Contentment. That’s what his alpha felt.
A deep, warm satisfaction settled somewhere inside him, something embarrassingly close to happiness. The constant restlessness that had been following him since he met you, the frustration of not being able to scent you or understand you or place you, finally quieted for the first time. Because even if he couldn’t smell you, even if your scent was hidden away from him, you smelled like him now.
And he hated how much he liked that.
Because it wasn’t real. You weren’t his omega. You weren’t part of his pack.
You had a husband. Have, as in present tense.
That thought should have been enough to snap him out of it, but it didn’t. Not when you were standing there, making coffee in his clothes, looking more relaxed than he had ever seen you. Not when his instincts were telling him that this looked right. Not when his alpha was almost chirping with content, so happy that he was actively fighting against the purr trying to come out of his chest.
You finally grabbed your coffee and walked to the table, sitting down with a tired sigh before rubbing your eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. The gesture almost broke him. Such a small, meaningless thing, and yet his alpha reacted like you had done it on purpose. Like you had chosen him.
Only then did you finally look up and notice him staring.
You blinked, still half-asleep. “Oh. You’re still here.”
Ghost forced himself to look away before you could read too much into his expression. Even though he was still, as always, wearing his mask, he somehow felt like you could see right through it. Clenching his jaw, keeping his expression completely blank and trying to make sure his eyes revealed as little as possible, he answered with:
"Yeah."
Your eyebrows pulled together slightly as you studied him over the edge of your mug. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
You didn’t look convinced. “You’ve been standing there staring at me.”
Ghost cleared his throat, shifting his weight. “Wasn’t staring.”
“You definitely were.”
For a moment neither of you said anything. You watched him with sleepy confusion, trying to understand what was wrong, while he stood there fully aware that the answer was literally covering your body.
He should have told you.
He knew he should have.
All it would take was one sentence. That’s my hoodie. You would probably apologize, maybe laugh awkwardly, and probably take it off and give it back.
And that was exactly why he didn’t say anything.
Because some selfish, quiet part of him wasn’t ready to lose this yet. Just for one morning, just for a few minutes, he wanted to pretend that the omega sitting in front of him wearing his scent belonged there.
So Ghost said nothing. And for once, he let himself have something he knew he shouldn’t.
By the time the caffeine finally started doing its job and your brain properly registered the numbers on the clock, every bit of calm left on your body disappeared. Ghost saw the exact moment it happened, the way your eyes widened slightly over the edge of the mug before you almost jumped out of your chair, muttering a string of complaints about being late, about the inventory you still needed to finish, about how the medical room was supposed to have been opened fifteen minutes ago. He barely had time to put his own cup down before you were moving through the house like a hurricane, grabbing your things, checking pockets and rushing toward the door while still wearing the same oversized black hoodie that very much did not belong to you.
Ghost followed without saying anything, even though he knew he should. He knew perfectly well that letting you walk through base covered in his scent was going to cause problems. Any alpha within a reasonable distance would notice it immediately, and even some betas with sharper senses would probably understand what had happened. The responsible thing would have been to stop you, tell you the truth and let you change before leaving. But every time he looked at you, at how naturally you wore something of his, at how comfortable you looked wrapped in a scent you couldn’t even recognize because of the suppressants dulling your senses, the words disappeared before reaching his mouth.
The walk through base was chaotic, at least on your side. You rushed through the corridors with a speed that almost made Ghost amused, apologizing whenever you passed too close to someone, your focus entirely on reaching the medical room before anyone noticed you were late. Behind you, however, Ghost followed with the complete opposite energy. Calm, silent, controlled. A few steps behind at all times, close enough to intervene if necessary but never close enough to crowd you. The contrast was almost ridiculous. You were all frantic energy and he was the shadow behind you, moving like a guard dog following its owner.
Everyone noticed.
Of course they did.
At first they looked because of the commotion. An omega practically running through the corridors was enough to catch attention, especially one who most people knew avoided crowded areas whenever possible. Then confusion followed when they tried to catch your scent and found nothing there, the same strange emptiness that always surrounded you. But the confusion never lasted long, because a second later they noticed what surrounded that emptiness instead.
Alpha.
Ghost.
Heavy and unmistakable.
Their eyes dropped to the hoodie, then slowly moved toward the man walking behind you.
That was where their curiosity ended and where Thor's eyes departed, summarizing the tasks they had been doing previously.
Ghost didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The second someone stared for too long, his eyes moved toward them, cold and sharp beneath the mask, and suddenly everyone remembered they had somewhere else to look. It satisfied something embarrassingly primal inside him, watching people step back without you even realizing why. You just kept moving forward, completely oblivious to the silent message everyone else was receiving.
Soap had been waiting outside the medical room for longer than he wanted to admit.
He was leaning against the wall, back pressed against the concrete, one boot resting behind him while his arms stayed crossed over his chest. Anyone walking past would probably assume he was there casually, maybe waiting for a check-up or killing time before training. Nobody needed to know he had been there for almost twenty minutes trying to decide what to say when he saw you.
He heard you before he saw you. Fast footsteps turning the corner.
He smiled automatically.
Until you appeared. The smile disappeared instantly.
Soap genuinely forgot what he was about to say because his brain stopped processing information correctly the second you rounded the corner. At first all he registered was you. Your slightly rushed expression, your messy hair, the way you looked exactly like someone who had woken up late and had been fighting against the clock all morning.
Then he noticed the hoodie.
Ghost’s hoodie.
The reaction inside him was immediate and confusing enough that he almost hated himself for it. Because one part of him, the instinctive part that had attached itself to you before he even understood what was happening, was ridiculously happy. His wolf saw you covered in pack scent, comfortable and safe, and reacted like it was the best thing that had happened all week. But then the rest of him caught up.
It wasn’t his scent.
It was Ghost’s.
The jealousy hit fast and sharp. Because how dare he? How dare Ghost have something Soap had been trying so carefully not to take, nor to mess up.
You didn’t notice the internal war happening inside him. You simply smiled like everything was normal, opened the medical room door, flipped the sign to open and walked inside.
“Morning, Johnny,” you greeted casually.
Soap barely managed to answer.
Ghost entered behind you like the good trained mutt he was, Johnny thought, and moved toward the corner of the room, silent as always, taking his usual position where he could watch everything without being in the way.
And Soap just stood there.
Watching you.
You started preparing the room, checking supplies and organizing the counter, but the sleeves of the hoodie kept falling over your hands. Without thinking, you pushed them up your arms, rolling the fabric until your forearms were free, revealing the delicate skin of your arms.
Soap’s jaw tightened. Because it was such a normal movement, such a small thing. And somehow it made everything worse.
The hoodie looked like it belonged there. Like you had stolen it on purpose. Like you had woken up surrounded by Ghost’s scent and chosen to keep it.
He looked at the way your skin disappeared under the hoodie, your soft and delicate skin. So tempting to bite into, to sink his teeth into. His mouth started watering at the thought of being able to touch you, of getting to taste even that small patch of exposed skin. The idea affected him so much that he could feel his pants tightening just from the mere sight of your bare, soft skin surrounded by Ghost’s scent.
God, he could come undone just at the thought of it. You, completely bare before him, completely surrounded by Ghost’s musk. The things you must have done to end up smelling like that. You, lying there, so trusting and relaxed, with Soap biting at your skin, soaking your skin with his saliva until you smelled only like him, until every trace of Ghost was erased.
God, Ghost.
He didn’t know what affected him more: the idea of making you only his, or the idea of you being completely scented by his mate. He could even imagine how good Ghost would look, all flushed, like he always got when they were together, with your bare body flushed beside him, giving him small kitten licks on his neck, right where their mating mark was. Your hand moving delicately down his body, tracing his abs, until it finally moved lower to his most aching part. So hard and pink against his stomach. How your delicate fingers would caress his hot, red tip—
“Johnny?”
You finally noticed him staring. You stopped what you were doing and turned around with a small frown, looking him up and down.
He blinked.
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“Aye.”
“You don’t look okay.”
“I’m fine.”
You stepped closer, immediately switching into nurse mode. “Are you sure? You look weird. Do you have a fever or something?”
That almost broke him.
Because there you were, standing in another alpha’s clothes, worrying about him.
His eyes dropped again.
“Nice hoodie.”
You looked down at yourself.
“Oh, this?” You grabbed the fabric with a small laugh. “Yeah, I actually don’t remember buying this one. It’s weird because I don’t usually get them this big, but it’s really comfortable.”
“No?” You frowned. “Why are you saying it like that?”
Soap opened his mouth before he could stop himself.
“Because you smell—”
Your reaction was immediate.
Your eyes widened in horror and you quickly grabbed the hoodie, lifting the fabric toward your nose.
“Oh my God, does it smell bad?” you asked, genuinely concerned. “Did I forget to wash it? Wait, maybe I put too much detergent. I bought a new one and I wasn’t sure about the amount.”
Soap stared at you.
Then looked at Ghost.
Then back at you.
Then Ghost again.
And suddenly he understood.
You didn’t know. You really didn’t know.
Ghost knew. But you didn’t.
Something hot and possessive twisted inside Soap’s chest, and he forced himself to smile even though it felt painfully tight.
“No,” he said carefully, voice controlled. “No, lass. You smell good. Really good.”
Your shoulders relaxed immediately but Soap’s didn’t.
He slowly turned toward Ghost, the smile disappearing from his face.
“Ghost.”
The lieutenant already knew.
“Need tae talk tae ye outside for a second,” Soap said, his voice strangely calm. “Something about the new recruits’ training.”
Soap waited until Ghost followed him outside. He waited until the door closed, until they walked far enough down the corridor that you wouldn’t hear them.
Then he snapped.
His hand grabbed the front of Ghost’s shirt and shoved him back against the wall, holding him there as every bit of control he had been forcing finally cracked. Ghost could have stopped him easily. They both knew that. But he didn’t move.
“What the fuck did ye do?”
His voice was low.
Dangerously low.
“Johnny—”
“No.” Soap’s grip tightened. “I trusted ye.”
Ghost stayed silent.
“I trusted ye with her because I knew I couldn’t trust myself last night. I knew if I walked her home after that dinner, after seein’ her smile like that again, I’d do somethin’ stupid.”
His breathing was uneven now.
“I asked ye tae protect her.”
Ghost’s jaw tightened beneath the mask.
“And now she just walks in wearin’ yer clothes? Covered in yer scent? Lookin’ like she spent the bloody night with ye? Even her hair smells like ye.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Yeah? Then tell me what I’m supposed tae think, Simon.”
The use of his name made the silence heavier.
Because Soap wasn’t angry anymore.
Not just angry.
He was hurt.
And that was much worse.
Ghost didn’t answer immediately, and the silence that followed only made the anger inside Soap grow stronger.
The problem was that Johnny knew him too well. Simon Riley wasn’t someone who hesitated when he had a good explanation. He wasn’t someone who wasted words trying to make a situation sound prettier than it actually was.
If Soap was wrong, if he was overreacting, Ghost would have pushed him away already, called him an idiot, told him exactly what happened and walked back inside the medical room without wasting another second.
But he wasn’t doing any of that. He was just standing there, letting Soap hold him against the wall, and that alone was enough to tell Johnny that something was different.
“Simon,” Soap growled, a last warning, and even though his voice was quieter now, it carried more anger than when he had been shouting. His fingers were still gripping the front of Ghost’s shirt, his breathing still uneven, his entire body fighting between the jealousy burning through his chest and the trust he had always placed in the man in front of him.
Because that was what hurt him the most. Not the hoodie. Not even your scent being completely buried beneath Ghost’s. It was the fact that he had sent Ghost with you because he trusted him more than he trusted himself. He had stepped back because he was scared of crossing a line, and now it looked like Ghost had crossed it instead.
Ghost looked at him for a long moment before finally letting out a slow breath. “Something happened last night.” The words were enough to change the entire feeling of the conversation. Soap didn’t let him go immediately, but the pressure of his grip weakened as his expression shifted. The anger was still there, the jealousy still twisting painfully inside him, but both of those things were pushed aside by something stronger. Something much more instinctive when it came to you. Worry.
“What do ye mean something happened?” Soap asked, studying Ghost’s face carefully. He knew Simon well enough to recognize when he was being serious, and whatever he saw in his eyes made the last pieces of anger start fading. Because Ghost didn’t look guilty in the way Johnny expected. He didn’t look like a man who had stolen something from him. He looked concerned.
Ghost glanced back toward the hallway, toward the medical room where you were still working, completely unaware of the conversation happening outside. He lowered his voice before continuing:
“When we got to her place, she froze. The second she opened the door, something changed. She saw a light on inside and tried to pretend everything was fine, said she probably forgot it, but she was lying.” He still remembered the way your entire body had reacted. The sudden tension in your shoulders, the change in your breathing, the way your eyes had fixed on the bedroom door like you were waiting for something terrible to happen. You had tried to hide it quickly, but Ghost had spent his entire life reading people who didn’t want to be read.
Soap’s expression slowly changed as he listened. The jealousy disappeared piece by piece until there was nothing left except concern. Because he could picture it too easily. You standing outside your own home pretending not to be afraid. You forcing yourself to smile because that was what you always did. You hiding whatever was wrong because, for some reason, you thought you had to handle everything alone.
“She thought someone was inside,” Soap said quietly, but it wasn’t really a question anymore. He could see the answer in Ghost's eyes before the lieutenant even said anything.
Ghost nodded slightly. “I think so. She asked me to come in, made some excuse about tea, but she barely looked away from the bedroom door the whole time.” He saw the brief flicker in Soap’s eyes at the mention of you inviting him inside, that automatic possessive reaction he couldn’t fully control, so Ghost continued before his mind could go somewhere else. “Not like that, Johnny. She was scared.”
Soap could handle the thought of you wanting Ghost. It would hurt, but Ghost was his pack, and somewhere deep down he knew that whatever was happening between all of you was already more complicated than simple jealousy. But the thought that you had invited someone inside because you were afraid to enter your own home alone made something protective and furious rise inside his chest.
“Why didn’t she say anythin’?” Soap asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“There’s something else,” Ghost added after a moment, and the seriousness in his tone made Soap look back at him. “She keeps a gun under her pillow.”
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.
Soap just stared at him.
Because that didn’t fit with the image everyone had of you. The sweet omega who spent her days patching up soldiers, who remembered how everyone liked their coffee, who laughed at his stupid jokes and worried whenever someone skipped a meal. That omega slept with a weapon within reach?
People didn’t do that without a reason.
“Why the hell does a nurse need a gun under her pillow?” Soap finally asked, his jaw tightening as he looked back toward the medical room.
Ghost didn’t answer because he couldn’t. That was the same question that had been bothering him since the night before. The same question that had kept him awake while you slept only a few feet away. The more he thought about it, the less everything made sense. Your lack of scent. Your fear. Your empty apartment. Your supposed alpha who somehow had no presence in your life at all.
After a long silence, Ghost finally spoke again. “You were right about something being wrong.”
Soap looked back at him, waiting, and Ghost hated how easily the next thought came to him. He hated how natural it felt to blame a man he had never met. “Something’s wrong with him.”
They didn’t need to say your husband's name. Both of them knew exactly who they were talking about. Your supposed mate. The alpha who should have been keeping you safe, who should have been the reason your home felt protected instead of the reason you looked relieved every time someone walked you back there.
Soap looked away, his expression hardening. “An alpha shouldnae make his omega afraid tae go home,” he muttered, and this time Ghost didn’t correct him.
He didn’t remind him that you weren’t theirs, that you belonged to someone else, that whatever they were feeling was crossing a line they shouldn’t even be approaching.
Because the problem was that he was starting to believe it too.
Anyway, new chapter is coming but I may have gone a bit overboard and written 14k words upsi-
Just wondering if i should post an extra long episode or break it into two.
Let me know what you think!!
Anyway, Chapter 3 is coming this weekend, here is a sneak peak:
tw: mentions of male genitalia, hot stuff
He looked at the way your skin disappeared under the hoodie, your soft, delicate skin. So tempting to bite into, to sink his teeth into. His mouth started watering at the thought of being able to touch you, of getting to taste even that small patch of exposed skin. The idea excited him so much that he could feel his pants tightening just from the sight of your bare, soft skin surrounded by Ghost’s scent.
God, he could come undone just at the thought of it. You, completely bare before him, completely surrounded by Ghost’s musk. The things you must have done to end up smelling like that. You, lying there, so trusting and relaxed, with Soap biting at your skin, covering you in his scent until you smelled only like him, until every trace of Ghost was gone.
God, Ghost.
He didn’t know what affected him more: the idea of making you only his, or the idea of you being completely scented by his mate. He could even imagine how good Ghost would look, all flushed, like he always got when they were together, with your bare body pressed close to him, giving him small kitten licks on his neck, right where their mating mark was. Your hand moving delicately down his body, tracing his abs, until it finally lowered to where he needed you most. How your delicate fingers would caress his hot and red tip-
