Simon "Ghost" Riley

The idea of a scary, intimidating man being an omega is not a thought that would strike most people. In fact, most soldiers he passed simply assumed he had an omega that rubbed themself on him–they never considered that he was an omega. Ghost didn’t even act like one.

Now, a select few people knew he was an omega. Price, Gaz, Soap, and {User} were the select few. He didn’t bother telling Laswell–after all, Price created the task force; not her. {User} was a must. When he learned that another omega was joining, those very instincts made him approach the one person who was just like him.

What that did mean, though, was getting close. He was close with Soap; that was a given. But {User}? Bonding with {{obj}} didn’t make him feel like a stray in his own squad. That part was weirder, considering none of them discriminated against him for being an omega.

Being an omega didn’t immediately give Ghost that pass to fuck on his own teammates. It was still the military, and it was still discouraged. Besides, Ghost never thought of fucking his teammates. The idea didn’t appease him. Even in the midst of his heat, he’d work it out. He didn’t whine or beg or start humping everything in sight. He worked through it, just like the others.

But bonding with {User} triggered something new.

Usually, he only had his heat once a year, compared to the usual two that others had. This time around, though, it had come a month early. Not a big deal. He simply hauled on a bigger pair of pants–in case of bloating–, wiped himself with some artificial alpha pheromones to keep the instincts at bay, and made sure to give himself a few moments to readjust himself throughout the day. As of his current heat, even catching the smallest whiff of {User} sent his body spiraling.

So, he invited {{obj}} over.

Unbeknownst that he was having the same effect on {{obj}} while enduring {{poss}} own heat.

---

It was humiliating, really. Ghost didn’t have the proper ‘equipment’. There was no knot. There was just a lousy cunt that leaked at the mere thought of {User} underneath him. Luckily, that was exactly where {User} was.

Ghost was on top of {{obj}}, his hands pushing {User}’s shoulders down enough that he was sure it hurt. His cunt was exposed, rubbing perfectly against {User}’s own pussy enough for him to feel how wet {User} was. Soaked. He fucking loved how well {{poss}} clit glided against his own.

But he was needy. He didn’t need pussy, he needed a knot–something he knew {User} was obviously not equipped with.

“Stay there,” Ghost breathed, the mask still plastered on his face. “You fucking stay there. Let me...let me just get off, okay? I’ll let you get up afterwards.”

He knew the humping alone was harsh. He was trying to press as hard as he could, to get as much friction as possible. He was breathing hard, his legs pushing {User}’s thighs further down. “I know.”

God, Ghost knew what he needed, but he had no fucking clue how to get it.

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The idea of a scary, intimidating man being an omega is not a thought that would strike most people. In fact, most soldiers he passed simply assumed he had an omega that rubbed themself on him–they never considered that he was an omega. Ghost didn’t even act like one.

Now, a select few people knew he was an omega. Price, Gaz, Soap, and {User} were the select few. He didn’t bother telling Laswell–after all, Price created the task force; not her. {User} was a must. When he learned that another omega was joining, those very instincts made him approach the one person who was just like him.

What that did mean, though, was getting close. He was close with Soap; that was a given. But {User}? Bonding with {{obj}} didn’t make him feel like a stray in his own squad. That part was weirder, considering none of them discriminated against him for being an omega.

Being an omega didn’t immediately give Ghost that pass to fuck on his own teammates. It was still the military, and it was still discouraged. Besides, Ghost never thought of fucking his teammates. The idea didn’t appease him. Even in the midst of his heat, he’d work it out. He didn’t whine or beg or start humping everything in sight. He worked through it, just like the others.

But bonding with {User} triggered something new.

Usually, he only had his heat once a year, compared to the usual two that others had. This time around, though, it had come a month early. Not a big deal. He simply hauled on a bigger pair of pants–in case of bloating–, wiped himself with some artificial alpha pheromones to keep the instincts at bay, and made sure to give himself a few moments to readjust himself throughout the day. As of his current heat, even catching the smallest whiff of {User} sent his body spiraling.

So, he invited {{obj}} over.

Unbeknownst that he was having the same effect on {{obj}} while enduring {{poss}} own heat.

---

It was humiliating, really. Ghost didn’t have the proper ‘equipment’. There was no knot. There was just a lousy dick that leaked at the mere thought of {User} underneath him. Luckily, that was exactly where {User} was.

Ghost was on top of {{obj}}, his hands pushing {User}’s shoulders down enough that he was sure it hurt. His cock was exposed, rubbing perfectly against {User}’s pussy enough for him to feel how wet {User} was. Soaked. He fucking loved how well {{poss}} clit glided against his dick.

But he was needy. He didn’t need pussy, he needed a knot–something he knew {User} was obviously not equipped with.

“Stay there,” Ghost breathed, the mask still plastered on his face. “You fucking stay there. Let me...let me just get off, okay? I’ll let you get up afterwards.”

He knew the humping alone was harsh. He was trying to press as hard as he could, to get as much friction as possible. He was breathing hard, his legs pushing {User}’s thighs further down. “I know.”

God, Ghost knew what he needed, but he had no fucking clue how to get it.

The idea of a scary, intimidating man being an omega is not a thought that would strike most people. In fact, most soldiers he passed simply assumed he had an omega that rubbed themself on him–they never considered that he was an omega. Ghost didn’t even act like one.

Now, a select few people knew he was an omega. Price, Gaz, Soap, and {User} were the select few. He didn’t bother telling Laswell–after all, Price created the task force; not her. {User} was a must. When he learned that another omega was joining, those very instincts made him approach the one person who was just like him.

What that did mean, though, was getting close. He was close with Soap; that was a given. But {User}? Bonding with {{obj}} didn’t make him feel like a stray in his own squad. That part was weirder, considering none of them discriminated against him for being an omega.

Being an omega didn’t immediately give Ghost that pass to fuck on his own teammates. It was still the military, and it was still discouraged. Besides, Ghost never thought of fucking his teammates. The idea didn’t appease him. Even in the midst of his heat, he’d work it out. He didn’t whine or beg or start humping everything in sight. He worked through it, just like the others.

But bonding with {User} triggered something new.

Usually, he only had his heat once a year, compared to the usual two that others had. This time around, though, it had come a month early. Not a big deal. He simply hauled on a bigger pair of pants–in case of bloating–, wiped himself with some artificial alpha pheromones to keep the instincts at bay, and made sure to give himself a few moments to readjust himself throughout the day. As of his current heat, even catching the smallest whiff of {User} sent his body spiraling.

So, he invited {{obj}} over.

Unbeknownst that he was having the same effect on {{obj}} while enduring {{poss}} own heat.

---

It was humiliating, really. Ghost didn’t have the proper ‘equipment’. There was no knot. There was just a lousy cunt that leaked at the mere thought of {User} underneath him. Luckily, that was exactly where {User} was.

Ghost was on top of {{obj}}, his hands pushing {User}’s shoulders down enough that he was sure it hurt. His pussy was exposed, rubbing perfectly against {User}’s cock enough for him to feel how hard {User} was. Soaked. He fucking loved how well {{poss}} cock glided against his clit.

But he was needy. He didn’t need dick, he needed a knot–something he knew {User} was obviously not equipped with.

“Stay there,” Ghost breathed, the mask still plastered on his face. “You fucking stay there. Let me...let me just get off, okay? I’ll let you get up afterwards.”

He knew the humping alone was harsh. He was trying to press as hard as he could, to get as much friction as possible. He was breathing hard, his legs pushing {User}’s thighs further down. “I know.”

God, Ghost knew what he needed, but he had no fucking clue how to get it.

The idea of a scary, intimidating man being an omega is not a thought that would strike most people. In fact, most soldiers he passed simply assumed he had an omega that rubbed themself on him–they never considered that he was an omega. Ghost didn’t even act like one.

Now, a select few people knew he was an omega. Price, Gaz, Soap, and {User} were the select few. He didn’t bother telling Laswell–after all, Price created the task force; not her. {User} was a must. When he learned that another omega was joining, those very instincts made him approach the one person who was just like him.

What that did mean, though, was getting close. He was close with Soap; that was a given. But {User}? Bonding with {{obj}} didn’t make him feel like a stray in his own squad. That part was weirder, considering none of them discriminated against him for being an omega.

Being an omega didn’t immediately give Ghost that pass to fuck on his own teammates. It was still the military, and it was still discouraged. Besides, Ghost never thought of fucking his teammates. The idea didn’t appease him. Even in the midst of his heat, he’d work it out. He didn’t whine or beg or start humping everything in sight. He worked through it, just like the others.

But bonding with {User} triggered something new.

Usually, he only had his heat once a year, compared to the usual two that others had. This time around, though, it had come a month early. Not a big deal. He simply hauled on a bigger pair of pants–in case of bloating–, wiped himself with some artificial alpha pheromones to keep the instincts at bay, and made sure to give himself a few moments to readjust himself throughout the day. As of his current heat, even catching the smallest whiff of {User} sent his body spiraling.

So, he invited {{obj}} over.

Unbeknownst that he was having the same effect on {{obj}} while enduring {{poss}} own heat.

---

It was humiliating, really. Ghost didn’t have the proper ‘equipment’. There was no knot. There was just a lousy dick that leaked at the mere thought of {User} underneath him. Luckily, that was exactly where {User} was.

Ghost was on top of {{obj}}, his hands pushing {User}’s shoulders down enough that he was sure it hurt. His cock was exposed, rubbing perfectly against {User}’s cock enough for him to feel how hard {User} was. Soaked. He fucking loved how well {{poss}} ass glided against his cock.

But he was needy. He didn’t need dick, he needed a knot–something he knew {User} was obviously not equipped with.

“Stay there,” Ghost breathed, the mask still plastered on his face. “You fucking stay there. Let me...let me just get off, okay? I’ll let you get up afterwards.”

He knew the humping alone was harsh. He was trying to press as hard as he could, to get as much friction as possible. He was breathing hard, his legs pushing {User}’s thighs further down. “I know.”

God, Ghost knew what he needed, but he had no fucking clue how to get it.

The idea of a scary, intimidating man being an omega is not a thought that would strike most people. In fact, most soldiers he passed simply assumed he had an omega that rubbed themself on him–they never considered that he was an omega. Ghost didn’t even act like one.

Now, a select few people knew he was an omega. Price, Gaz, Soap, and {User} were the select few. He didn’t bother telling Laswell–after all, Price created the task force; not her. {User} was a must. When he learned that another omega was joining, those very instincts made him approach the one person who was just like him.

What that did mean, though, was getting close. He was close with Soap; that was a given. But {User}? Bonding with {{obj}} didn’t make him feel like a stray in his own squad. That part was weirder, considering none of them discriminated against him for being an omega.

Being an omega didn’t immediately give Ghost that pass to fuck on his own teammates. It was still the military, and it was still discouraged. Besides, Ghost never thought of fucking his teammates. The idea didn’t appease him. Even in the midst of his heat, he’d work it out. He didn’t whine or beg or start humping everything in sight. He worked through it, just like the others.

But bonding with {User} triggered something new.

Usually, he only had his heat once a year, compared to the usual two that others had. This time around, though, it had come a month early. Not a big deal. He simply hauled on a bigger pair of pants–in case of bloating–, wiped himself with some artificial alpha pheromones to keep the instincts at bay, and made sure to give himself a few moments to readjust himself throughout the day. As of his current heat, even catching the smallest whiff of {User} sent his body spiraling.

So, he invited {{obj}} over.

Unbeknownst that he was having the same effect on {{obj}} while enduring {{poss}} own heat.

---

It was humiliating, really. Ghost didn’t have the proper ‘equipment’. There was no knot. There was just a lousy cunt that leaked at the mere thought of {User} underneath him. Luckily, that was exactly where {User} was.

Ghost was on top of {{obj}}, his hands pushing {User}’s shoulders down enough that he was sure it hurt. His cunt was exposed, rubbing perfectly against {User}’s own pussy enough for him to feel how hard and wet {User} was. Soaked. He fucking loved how well {{poss}} cock glided against his clit as the wetness of {{poss}} pussy left him wet.

But he was needy. He didn’t need pussy, he needed a knot–something he knew {User} was obviously not equipped with.

“Stay there,” Ghost breathed, the mask still plastered on his face. “You fucking stay there. Let me...let me just get off, okay? I’ll let you get up afterwards.”

He knew the humping alone was harsh. He was trying to press as hard as he could, to get as much friction as possible. He was breathing hard, his legs pushing {User}’s thighs further down. “I know.”

God, Ghost knew what he needed, but he had no fucking clue how to get it.

The idea of a scary, intimidating man being an omega is not a thought that would strike most people. In fact, most soldiers he passed simply assumed he had an omega that rubbed themself on him–they never considered that he was an omega. Ghost didn’t even act like one.

Now, a select few people knew he was an omega. Price, Gaz, Soap, and {User} were the select few. He didn’t bother telling Laswell–after all, Price created the task force; not her. {User} was a must. When he learned that another omega was joining, those very instincts made him approach the one person who was just like him.

What that did mean, though, was getting close. He was close with Soap; that was a given. But {User}? Bonding with {{obj}} didn’t make him feel like a stray in his own squad. That part was weirder, considering none of them discriminated against him for being an omega.

Being an omega didn’t immediately give Ghost that pass to fuck on his own teammates. It was still the military, and it was still discouraged. Besides, Ghost never thought of fucking his teammates. The idea didn’t appease him. Even in the midst of his heat, he’d work it out. He didn’t whine or beg or start humping everything in sight. He worked through it, just like the others.

But bonding with {User} triggered something new.

Usually, he only had his heat once a year, compared to the usual two that others had. This time around, though, it had come a month early. Not a big deal. He simply hauled on a bigger pair of pants–in case of bloating–, wiped himself with some artificial alpha pheromones to keep the instincts at bay, and made sure to give himself a few moments to readjust himself throughout the day. As of his current heat, even catching the smallest whiff of {User} sent his body spiraling.

So, he invited {{obj}} over.

Unbeknownst that he was having the same effect on {{obj}} while enduring {{poss}} own heat.

---

It was humiliating, really. Ghost didn’t have the proper ‘equipment’. There was no knot. There was just a lousy dick that leaked at the mere thought of {User} underneath him. Luckily, that was exactly where {User} was.

Ghost was on top of {{obj}}, his hands pushing {User}’s shoulders down enough that he was sure it hurt. His cock was exposed, rubbing perfectly against {User}’s pussy and dick enough for him to feel how wet {User} was. Soaked. He fucking loved how well his own dick pressed against {User}’s body, getting him wet while also letting him bump into {User}’s dick.

But he was needy. He didn’t need pussy, he needed a knot–something he knew {User} was obviously not equipped with.

“Stay there,” Ghost breathed, the mask still plastered on his face. “You fucking stay there. Let me...let me just get off, okay? I’ll let you get up afterwards.”

He knew the humping alone was harsh. He was trying to press as hard as he could, to get as much friction as possible. He was breathing hard, his legs pushing {User}’s thighs further down. “I know.”

God, Ghost knew what he needed, but he had no fucking clue how to get it.