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Alpha, Please

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

The first two parts give context, but aren't required for this read.

Summary: It took Price talking to Ghost for him to realize he was neglecting you, his mate. He finally found it in himself to start from the beginning, courting you. You invited him into your nest, eventually allowing him to fuck you into it.

Content Tags: Angst in the beginning if you squint, bits and pieces of fluff, Ghost literally brings you food, Obtaining your mans hoodies and shirts, Dubious Consent, Fingering, PiV Sex, Knotting, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: You guys really liked the sex in Maple Syrup, so here's an extension after The Aftermath with some smut that I excluded from the headcannons I made. As always, more under the cut and my asks are open <3.

Part 1, Part 2, Headcannons

Legally, you and Ghost were in the clear. It took a few weeks and some hearings to get to where you were, but they relented and allowed you to continue working. The only problem was that you couldn't go on missions anymore, not unless you got rid of the bond, which would allow you to take suppressants again.

It pissed you off, but you were more than happy to keep working, even without the missions. You were left with one problem. Ghost was now ignoring you, he would disappear from any room if you happened to walk in, and anytime you thought you caught a glimpse he seemed to disappear.

You were getting annoyed. You wanted your Alpha to want you, you were trying to get him to talk to you but it seemed all for naught. You blinked out of your thoughts as a knock on your office door echoed in the small room. You sighed deeply, giving them a simple come in, and trying to get back to the paperwork you'd been working on.

The door opened and shut, the chair in front of your desk getting pulled back and the person sat down. When you lifted your head, you gave a deep sigh. Price. He leaned back, seeming to be fully relaxed.

"What is it you need, Captain?" He looked you up and down, giving a small sniff as he scented you. You raised your eyebrows, gesturing for him to answer you.

"Has Ghost been ignoring you? You smell bothered," you groaned, wiping a hand down your face. You nodded at him, not wanting to get into it. "That's not good," you barked a laugh, throwing your pen down and tossing your hands up.

"No shit it's not good, Price, it's been pissing me off. He hasn't talked to me since the last hearing we had together," you shook your head, eyes shutting. "It hurts. More than it should, even if I don't really know him," Price nodded with your words, looking away.

He sighed deeply. "I'll have a talk with him, I've noticed it effected both of you. Ghost on the field, and you in the medbay," you had to look away at that, you knew how far behind you were in paperwork. It was piling up and everyone wanted things sorted, but you couldn't get to it. In your downtime, all you did was lay in your nest, trying to soothe yourself.

Price had walked out, and that was the last of the conversation. There wasn't much else to say, but he did make sure to let you know that you needed to catch up on your paperwork. That was all you did that night, leading into early the next morning. You'd made sure to get breakfast, but you were working on the paperwork through lunch and into early afternoon.

You hadn't noticed the hours going by, hadn't noticed how hungry you'd become. Another knock on the door made you shake out of your stupor. You blinked, eyes falling in and out of focus.

"Come in," you called out, rubbing your eyes as you leaned back. God, your back and neck hurt from being hunched over. You hadn't heard the door open or seen Ghost sit down in front of you, but you'd noticed the plate of food slide into your vision.

That made you look up, hands pausing from rubbing your neck. He'd taken off the skull portion of his mask, leaving the balaclava on. So similar to the mission, but so different. He wasn't looking at you, but at the food in front of you.

"You missed two meals," was all he said. You looked between him and the food, not sure how to feel.

"Price talked to you, I'm assuming," you grabbed the fork, finally realizing how hungry you'd become. He nodded, leaned back in the chair.

Ghost looked at you for a moment before looking away. "Price did talk to me," you groaned. God, he was so shit at conversations. Does he really think this is what a conversation entails? Not explaining anything, just hoping you could fill in the blanks.

It was silent for a few moments, the fork scraping against the plate every now and again breaking it. You hadn't looked up from the food, and it was slightly uncomfortable. Did he think this was going to fix everything?

"I want to court you,"

"What?"

It was a few days later that Ghost was called for a mission. You hadn't talked much outside of that conversation, he didn't give you many other details. He would stop by during lunch, though, bringing you food but never ate. The silence had become more comfortable as the days went on, but he'd told you about the mission.

The night he was set to leave, you found a small box in front of your door. You could faintly smell Ghost on it, but you still hesitated on grabbing it. You weren't entirely sure what was inside, or what it actually was.

It sat on your bed as you stared at it. Nothing moved inside, and you couldn't smell anything outside of Ghosts scent. It made you a little nervous, the thought that if something inside was so important then maybe he knew he would die on this mission.

In a panic, you opened the box, his scent seeming to explode out of it. It made your head jerk away, trying to find unscented air. Once you could shake your head clear of the thick scent, you took a look inside.

It looked like a shirt, black and all you could smell was Ghost. When you pulled it out, you revealed it to actually be a hoodie. It was big, and smelled so good. Leather, hints of tobacco and the gunpowder that they used on base. You turned, still holding the hoodie and opened your closet, dropping on your knees in your nest and fiddling with the different fabrics in it, trying to find the perfect spot.

You knew he was going to court you, but how long had he been wearing this hoodie for it to smell so strongly of him? The second you found the perfect spot you curled up into the nest, small purrs coming from your throat.

It'd been so long since you were happy enough to purr.

A few weeks later, just a few minutes after lunch, your door opened and closed.

Without looking up, you groaned. "Seriously, Amanda, I don't need you still on my case about my scent. You're supposed to be on suppressants, you shouldn't be able to smell much of anything," you looked up and froze. "Ghost."

"Who's Amanda?" You leaned back in your chair and gave a soft laugh. She'd been on your case about how your scent was changing, the leather and tobacco on it making you smell just a little too much like Ghost.

You looked up at him from your chair, watching as he set food down for you. "She's been on my case for the last few weeks, apparently I'm starting to smell like you, but I don't know how she can even smell it. She's supposed to be on suppressants, and I know she isn't mated. I think she's trying to get with one of your soldiers, you know," you pointed at him with the fork you'd picked up, shrugging slightly.

Ghosts face didn't change, but he put a box on your desk, taking a seat in front of you like normal. "I didn't know you were so interested in the lives of your subordinates," you shrugged.

"What's in the box?"

Without a blink, he gestured at it. You looked between him and the box, pulling it closer to you. It still smelled like him, a little stronger than normal. Opening it, you found a few items. A little blanket, small but still smelling of Ghost. When you pulled it out, you couldn't hold back a laugh.

You showed it to Ghost, trying to stop laughing. "You really got me a blanket with a ghost on it? Where'd you get it?" He shook his head, you could see his eyes crinkling a little bit. You really, really hoped it was a smile.

"I honestly can't tell you, confidentiality," you shook your head, placing it across your lap. The next item you pulled out was a shirt, black and short-sleeved. The smell on it was so strong, you had to lean slightly away.

"How often are you wearing these? The hoodie smelled about as strong as this, it can't be from just one time wearing it," Ghost didn't respond, gesturing to the half-eaten food in front of you. Putting the shirt back in the box, you started to dig in.

You were so happy to have him back, and the next few weeks went by very similarly. You tucked the blanket into your nest, starting to wear his shirt to sleep. The hoodies scent had started to fade, so you'd tucked it a little further from the center of your nest, replacing it with the blanket.

Every so often, he would give you a shirt, and you'd eventually invited him to your room for dinner. You'd allowed him to snoop around before showing him your nest.

"That's the blanket I gave you," he had said when he saw it lying in the center. You couldn't see it, not through the mask or with his back turned, but he was smiling, and you thought you heard a chuff come from him.

It took you a few more weeks to allow him to sit in your nest, but you finally did. It was usually only a night or two a week, sometimes he would read while sitting in it, or he would eat with his back to you. In the mornings when you woke up, you found a new shirt replacing one of the stale ones, or a hoodie placed on your bed. They always smelled of Ghost.

The one night he had laid down beside you, he had handed you little box. When you opened it, a necklace laid inside, a little S was engraved on a piece of metal, and a little Ghost was sitting beside it. The smile on your face was so wide, he helped you put it on. You had begun softly purring, allowing him to pull you onto his chest.

It was a few moments of silence before anyone said anything. "Simon," you picked your head up, glancing up at him. You were lost, who was Simon? "That's what the S stands for. Simon," your fingers touched the necklace softly.

"That's your name?"

It wasn't too long after that that you had begun your first heat. You had noticed yourself feeling feverish that morning, but didn't think too much of it. It was in the middle of cold season, so you assumed you had just caught someone's sickness. One of the rookies had coughed right on you a few days ago, but you thought you cleaned up well enough to not catch it.

You wore a mask, settling into your office to start some of the paperwork regarding rookies and their needed medications or allergies. You'd only been working an hour when cramps starting spasming in your gut, forcing you to stop.

What the hell? You were fine a few days ago, so what the hell was happening? These weren't consistent with a cold. Something was wrong, really, really wrong.

When you stumbled back to your room, head growing foggy, it finally hit you. You were going into heat. You could feel the slick slowly pooling out of you, you were beginning to sweat as the heat became ingrained in you.

It hurt, the spasms forcing more slick out of you, and you were barely able to stumble into your nest before ripping your clothes off. You could feel your cunt spasming around nothing, your fingers scrambling to fill the emptiness inside of you, but nothing seemed to fill it.

Simon was worried. You hadn't been in your office at lunch, but he assumed you were pulled off to help somewhere in the medbay, so he didn't think too much of it. That night, you hadn't shown up in his room, where you'd agreed to meet for dinner.

That was when he went to your room. From a few doors down he could smell your sweetness and he could feel himself hardening. When Simon opened the door, unlocking it with the key you'd given him, his eyes rolled back at the smell. He'd argue it, coincidentally, smelled as good as maple syrup.

Walking into your room, he saw the bed unkempt and could hear little whimpers from your nest, and he found you curled up and sweating, writhing. Your pretty little face was pressing into the shirt he'd left a few nights ago, whines coming from you with each pass of your hand over your clit. He stood watching you for a few moments before your eyes peeled open, whine deepening into a moan when you finally recognized him.

Alpha, you whined for him. That broke him, and he dropped down in front of you, tugging your legs over his and onto his lap. Your slick was soaking into his pants and he pressed his length into your core, dragging his rough pants over your clit and watching your back arch so beautifully.

Pulling back, he listened to you hiss and try to grind your hips back against his, but his hands caught them and held you down. Simons fingers swiped over your clit, watching your eyes roll back and moaning his name as his fingers slid into you, curling and stretching you out for him.

He could feel his rut starting to take over, and he had to take some deep breaths before it fully came over him. Dropping his head, he pushed his face into your gland and started licking and sucking. Pushing another finger into you, he could feel your nails digging into his biceps as your cunt throbbed around them. Sliding his fingers out of you, he kept one hand on your hip while pulling his cock out, listening to you whine for more, more, please Alpha, more.

Grabbing the backs of your thighs, he places them over his shoulders, lining up to slide right in. Your breath caught up in your throat, cutting your moan off partway through as he stretched you open. Moving slowly, he slid his tongue along your neck to press an open mouth kiss on your jaw.

As he bottomed out, he leaned back up to look at you. Your eyes were glassy and your fingers were scratching at his abdomen, cunt throbbing around him. While Simon slid back out, you finally seemed to catch your breath, moans coming out long and loud. He groaned from deep in his chest at the feeling of your cunt pulsating around him, sliding back in just as slow as he'd slid out. Your hips bucked, slurring out faster, alpha. need more, need it faster, please.

Your eyes rolled back as his hips quickened, all Simon could think about was getting your thoughtless, the only words he wanted coming out of you was Simon, and Alpha. He began to speed up more, hands tugging on your hips with each thrust, pulling you in rhythm to his thrust. You groaned, lifting your head to look at him through glossy eyes, tears falling down your cheeks. Please, Simon, please, before your words caught in your throat as his fingers found your clit, knot starting to catch on your cunt.

Your whines grew higher, cunt pulsing around him quicker and catching further on his knot as your mouth dropped open wider. He kept his pace, watching as your back arched sharply, hands dropping to your sides to grasp at the nest underneath you.

With your head dropping back, eyes scrunching, Simon could feel your pussy trying to milk him. It didn't take long after that, the mixture of your cunt spasming around him, your whines of Alpha, and his knot already growing for him to cum. Simons knot caught fully on you, thrusts shortening to try and keep pumping while he came, head dropping to nip at your gland, sinking his teeth in when your cunt spasming even harder around him.

When Simon finally came to, he dropped your neck from his bite and moved slowly to avoid jostling you too much. He twisted around, pulling you on top of him in order to get you into a more comfortable position. Your breaths heated the side of his neck, and when you came to all you could smell was Simon, felt his knot caught inside of you and his warm hands brushing against your back.

"Go to sleep, love," he whispered in your hair. God, he hoped all of your heats would be spent here, in a nest you carefully created. Even hoped you'd allow him to spend his ruts in your nest.

963 notes View Post

itsmeamysworld

1 year ago

my first time requesting im sorry if it sounds really bad or cringe ehehsbbejrr

how do you think Simon would react to someone who has a seashell collection they are v e r y overprotective of and they give him one of the seashells because they trust him???

selling seashells by the seashore? nope!

synopsis: what the ask said! + a bit more because i started to really get into it

warnings: fluff, sfw, gn! reader, established relationship, marriage, a glimpse into simon's private life, soap being soap

a/n: i’m literally on an island rn and i’m pretty sure this seagull is screaming at me so i thought this would be very fitting 😝

My First Time Requesting Im Sorry If It Sounds Really Bad Or Cringe Ehehsbbejrr

Simon definitely has his pockets filled, only with Moroccan sand and shells and rocks and…possibly a starfish? It’s not much, but truly it’s honest work when it comes to him picking up and inspecting every shell or sea cookie there is out here on this damn beach. Soap hollers at him from a few yards away, hand beckoning for him to come over.

“Ain’t this one a big ol' Lad?” Johnny says with his hand on his hip and the other pointing down at a huge mollusk, it’s opal and rainbowed color shone in the blazing sun.

The taller one smiled behind his mask and grunted as his knees popped, reaching down to pick it up. With a knife, he poked and prodded into whatever was in it, which was now just a dead, sandy mess at his feet. “Pretty, then again, anything prettier than your face, Johnny.”

Soap glared at him, “Yeah, at least I have a face.”

Simon missed you terribly. Miles and miles away, he just thinks about how his lovely spouse is on their daily walk down the beach, trading and finding pretty shells to show him once he gets back. You two do this every time he comes home. After a few days of resting (with mostly Simon either shutting off in his own room or hiding his face in the crook of your neck in your shared room), you sit him down on the kitchen table and pull out your beach bag to debrief about the new shells. Each one with a different story attached to it and each one you wanted to share and love.

“I got this one from a fisherman that caught it in his net when he went fishing in the Bahamas!” You showed him a huge, pink and white conch shell that was larger than both your hands combined.

Simon smiled at you and took your prized possession from your hands and inspected the shiny finishing of it. “You weren’t at the Bahamas, Lovie, what did you do to get it?”

“Oh I traded a hermit crab shell for his nephew’s crab.” You said fondly, petting the shell that looked normal sized in his own hands.

Simon pockets the large nautilus shell into his bag somewhere and feels his breast pocket for the small, spiral shell that you’ve gifted him. It was his birthday, the day you saw his toothy grin for the first time.

You had found a beautiful, black, spiral shell the size of a blade. Taking it home, you filed the tip into it was sharp enough to cut through…something, you thought. You don’t know what he exactly would cut, but it’ll come in handy right?

He cried that day when you sheepishly offered him this small gift box, a silver bow resting on the top of it. After you calmed him down and held onto his arm, he opened it and a goofy smile replaced his tears.

“I sharpened it, it’s like a…like uhm a shank?” You said, rather confused actually.

Your husband snorts at your reasoning and picks up the lustrous black shell into his hands. He examines it closely, spinning and turning it in his fingers to make it shine in different angles. With the hard padding of his index finger he grazed the tip of the shell, and sure enough, it was sharp. Simon huffs a laugh to himself thinking about how he could potentially use this as his next melee weapon.

“Do you…like it?” You ask him hesitantly, sitting across from him on the couch. Your own hand fidgeted with each other as you pull and push on your knuckles, making them pop gently.

The large man in front of you looks up at you, eyes a bit wide in confusion. A small gasp is heard from the parting of his lips and he softens his gaze, looking at you fully. He didn’t laugh at you, he laughed at himself. “It’s silly…to be killed with a seashell, hmm?”

Large hands found yours as he abandoned the shell temporarily on the safe coffee table. He kisses your forehead. “Of course I love it, my sea star…best gift ever.”

Simon knew that it wasn’t just a gift from his spouse that day. No that’d be too simple, and his life is anything but. That was a piece of you, your love for him manifesting in such a small, delicate object. To break it, was to break a piece of you…and you would raise hell if he did.

His face settled on a slightly less disgruntled face under his mask as he looked off into the coast. With a pat on the breast pocket of his vest, he pondered to himself, ‘This time, it’ll be different.’ This time he has his own collection to present to you. This time he knows you’ll be even more excited than that time you found a perfectly round sand dollar when he shows you these little treasures. Maybe this time you’ll even scream when he shows you this dried starfish.

But one thing’s for sure, he’ll come home to you after all this. And one day, there’ll be no more war, no more bloodshed, just two old spouses sitting on the beach, the sun rising steadily, and a wall of shells from coasts all around the world.

288 notes View Post

itsmeamysworld

4 years ago