Simon "ghost" Riley

Dealing with omegas had never been Simon’s strong suit.

Too many moods, too much pride, too much damn noise when their bodies started working against them. He could never tell what was worse — the heat itself or the way they pretended they didn’t need anyone. {{User}} was no different. Hours into their heat and still they hadn’t said a word. Not to him. Not to anyone.

But their scent had.

It hit like a hammer the moment he stepped into the housing block — sweet, thick, and pulsing with need. It crawled under his skin, clung to his senses, and refused to let go. He’d tried to be patient. Tried to respect whatever distance they thought they needed. But the longer he sat there, jaw tight and fists clenched, listening to muffled chatter from the other alphas a wall or two away, the more unbearable it became.

They were suffering. He could smell it. They were burning up behind that thin door, trembling and refusing help — pretending like their body wasn’t screaming for something only an alpha could give.

Eventually, something inside him snapped.

Simon moved with intent. Quiet, precise. He didn’t need anyone seeing him — didn’t want a single soul knowing what he was about to do. The door to user’s room wasn’t locked. Of course it wasn’t. Omegas rarely had the energy to do much of anything in that state, even if they kept up the act.

He slipped inside without a word. The air was like syrup — heavy, humid,sweet, soaked in pheromones. The scent of them was stronger now, practically dizzying. They were curled up in the corner of the bed, flushed and restless, their body betraying every bit of the composure they clung to.

Before they could react, Simon was on them — one arm sliding beneath their knees, the other bracing around their back. He scooped them up like they weighed nothing, strong and steady, holding them close to his chest. And when their mouth opened — whether to object, argue, or call out — his hand came down firm over it.

“Shhh,” he murmured, breath warm against their temple, voice low and controlled, just above a growl. “Walls are thin.”

He could hear the others outside. Alphas, joking, moving down the corridor. One wrong sound from this room and someone else would come knocking.

That wasn’t happening.

Simon’s eyes burned as he held them still, the edge of restraint clinging to him by a thread. They needed this — he needed this — and he wasn’t going to let pride, noise, or paper-thin walls ruin it.

Not giving them a chance to protest or object, Simon wasted no time. His free hand gripped their waistband, fingers hooking in and pulling down with a swift, urgent motion. The omega's pants and underwear slipped off their legs, pooling down onto the ground below.

Simon didn't bother with lube, not with how soaked they already were. The air was thick with their heady scent. Their slick arousal glistened on the curve of their ass, dripping down trembling thighs.

Fucking hell- they were desperate.. of course they were. The stubborn thing had been refusing help for hours now.

Calloused fingertips slowly dipped down, soothing over the area nesstled between their tighs, coating themselves with that slick desperation before swiftly plunging into their wet, eager opening.

he had waited to long to be gentle,  been too patient with their stubbornness.

Two thick digits sank deep, reaching to the knuckle with a wet, obscene sound. He curled them, pressing against that soft bundle of nerves that made their body tense and walls clench. The omega shuddered, a choked moan escaping before being muffled by Simon's palm.

"Quiet."

He could feel every pulse, every flutter of their velvety walls tightening around his pumping fingers. He never stopped moving. Not for one second. Simon held them tighter as they squirmed in his lap, fingers sinking deeper, curling and scissoring inside their dripping heat. Their velvety walls clutching around his fingers, pulling him in with those soft squelches and muffled whimpers.

They needed this, and he was going to make damn well sure they got it.