#i hate being reminded I was in the military

[yourabsolutemother]

At sundown Chapter 3

!!MDNI!!

Previous Chapter Here

Poly!141 x reader (omegaverse)

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A/N: I know this took so long guys, I'm sorry lol. I busted out the rest of chapter two in one night, it was kinda crazy. It was also way longer than I had originally planned, but who's complaining? Let me know if Johnny’s accent is too hard to read, sometimes this translator does some crazy things. This one’s kinda all over the place but it’s kinda for a reason. Last thing! Let me know if you like the beginning of this, I kinda really hate it but I didn’t know what else to do

CW: Military inaccuracy, accent inaccuracy, possible lore inaccuracy, kitchen working inaccuracy, typical a/b/o sexism and classism, cursing, slightly suggestive, reader is referred to as they/them but is afab, but reader is referred to as a woman sometimes (I try my best to make it gender neutral but I’m not the brightest), everyone is kinda being unfaithful, cursing, Simon is mean ya know, slight stalking, a man being a creep, yelling/arguing, reader kinda has a panic attack, yelling

Chapter overview: Soap does some questionable things at the grocery store. Ghost and Price are grumpy

WC: 11.3k

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Another new day in this hellhole you call a job. They have you running around like you’re the only one who knows what's going on. Sometimes you feel like you are the only one who knows what they’re doing, only to have some random person that’s never bothered to introduce themselves to you mansplain how to use a garbage can. Your boss even went as far as to make you drive an hour out of town to buy bulk ingredients, stating they needed too many things to be open. Of course you were the one they sent, instead of the person who’s literal job description is just that. And of course when you got back, it was your fault that the restaurant didn’t have enough servers. ‘Shouldn’t have taken so long’ was their excuse when you pointed out it was in fact their fault, not yours. You can wrap your brain around how people can be so ignorant and selfish. It feels like there are way more bad people in the world than there are good. It makes you wonder how much more the world could take.

By the end of the day, you’ve been cursed out by three tables, crayons thrown into your lower cut shirt by gross 11 year old boys whose moms have never taught them anything valuable a day in their life, belittled and more. You have serviced enough tables to make at least $300, but you’ve only made $150. Nobody is on your side today, the universe isn’t on your side today. But when is it ever? You’ve disappeared into the freezer to cry your eyes out too many times today to count. You know your manager will go through the cameras at the end of the day, which he does just to point things out about you, and you are going to get a call when you get home. Which you have told them repeatedly not to do, you don’t want to be bothered by work when you aren’t even there. Of course, they ignore this and constantly call and text you. One time, they threatened to fire you if you didn’t answer their calls, after one night when they couldn't find something and they deemed you the only person who knew where it was. You didn’t even know where it was.

Right now, you are putting the ticket in for your last table when a new coworker of yours comes over and leans against the beam that is near the computer. “Saw you running around like crazy today.” Is all that he says, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes scan your body up and down, finally landing on your face. His eyes had lingered at your tits for a bit longer than you’d like and you remind yourself to never wear a shirt like this to work again. His British voice echos in your head like it is empty, your brain trying to find the right words to say. What would agitate him the least. He is met with your downturned eyes as you turn your head towards him. The scent of an alpha hits you immediately and you’re left frozen for a moment. You can’t just ignore an alpha.

Your hands start to shake as you pull the customer receipt out of the printer, grabbing a checkbook from the box right next to you. You let out an awkward laugh as you nod your head, sliding the receipt into the pocket on the inside. “Yeah, Jared needed some things done ASAP and I was the only one available.” You explain, looking at the small passage between this random coworker and where you need to go. “My name is Tyler by the woy.” He says, his tone sounding rather thirsty. You aren’t stupid, you know what he wants from you and you want nothing to do with it. Especially from an alpha.

You stiffly nod and start to move towards the small gap next to him, watching as he unfolds his arms. Your heart clenches in your chest as he reaches for you and firmly grips your shoulders, it's obvious he didn’t mean to grab you so hard from the way he loosens his grip and kinda pats where he grabbed. “You can’t just walk away without telling me your name.” He points out, trying to hide his aggression under a facade of a ‘nice guy’. You can see through his fake smile, through the facade he puts on. You know his ploy all too well and you aren’t about to fall for it. Be nice to the girl, make her fall for them, then reveal what a heart crushing, soul changing piece of shit they are. Not on your watch, at least as much as you could help it.

Despite how confident you are in your own head, on the outside you look like a mess. You are hunched over with your checkbook in hand, trying hard not to look at the alpha who is way too close for comfort. “Come on, Hun. Such a pretty little omega like ye must have a beautiful name.” He presses further, ignoring the quiet whimper that manages to escape your mouth. He can feel the fear radiating off of you and it intrigues him, his pupils dilate with interest.

“Omega!” Jared shouts from his office at the very back of the kitchen, right next to the back door. He loves to slip in and out of the building without telling anybody what's going on. It doesn’t matter too much when he’s coming in without notice, all we can do is accept the rest of the shift is going to be shit and get on with our lives. But when he leaves without telling anyone that he’s leaving, it can majorly fuck the place up and it has multiple times in the past. On one occasion, he knew someone from corporate was coming in to pose as a customer, but assumed at six o’clock that he ‘wasn't going to show up’. He left and the guy he was supposed to be waiting on showed up in the last hour our dinner courses were served in. We went to go find him only to find out that he wasn’t even there anymore. Corporate was pissed and took points off of whatever tracking list they have for their franchisee owners. It doesn’t stop him from continuing to do it.

You have never felt more relieved to hear Jared’s voice in your life. Your head perks up, looking over the shoulder of your new coworker in the direction of Jared's office. You nervously glance between there and the alpha that is looking at you expectantly while stammering. “I gotta go.” Quickly squeezing between him and the wall to get to Jared, checkbooks still in hand. You can feel the kitchen workers and Tyler's eyes on you as you scurry hurriedly to the back of the restaurant. “Yes, sir! I’m coming.” You can feel the anger coming from behind you, coming from the alpha that you’ve caught the attention of unknowingly.

Jared’s office is tiny, not meant for someone to be in there for very long enough. It looks like a big closet with a desk to the right of the door, three filing cabinets completely lining the back wall. Outside of the office, if you’re standing facing the office, the door to the back of the restaurant is to the left. Jared is a very large, very intimidating alpha. He is the only one that you ever really talk to, since you have to. You kinda just switch off your brain when you are talking to him, retreating into your mind to a time when you were forced to be around them for hours on end.

“Now tell me why in the hell you are spending all this time in the kitchen fucking checking out tickets, lollygagging around while these people are waiting!?” Jared’s loud and booming voice invades your ears and makes you wince, your head immediately lowering in a sign of submission. The feeling of relief you felt only moments ago from being pulled away from Tyler was quickly sucked from your body. “What- no of course not, sir.” You stammer out. It’s like a flip gets switched when you’re in arguments, you can’t seem to formulate the correct words to help your case. It is very rare that you are able to get them to start to believe you, but you also fold when they start to interrogate you. It just makes you so nervous that you can’t think straight and your brain gets all scrambled.

“Then why have you been back here for three minutes doing one thing!? Huh!?” He screams at you as you start to take sharp intakes of air. You are trying not to burst out into tears as he stands up and steps towards the edge of his desk. You are used to crying in front of him, embarrassingly so. Everyone here tends to make jokes about it ‘behind your back’ while literally right behind your back. “It’s a privilege for you to work here.” He reminds you, stalking toward you. Your brain goes empty and all you can think about is keeping yourself safe from the angry looking alpha that is coming right towards you. “Look around!” He barks, speaking rhetorically. “There isn' a single omega tha' works for me, you are the only one. You are so easily replaceable I won' even thinky twice abou' i'.” He growls as he towers over your shaking form.

You are holding the checkbook close to your chest, the checkbook you have yet to bring to the customer, looking up at as tears start to roll down your cheeks You are terrified that he is going to lunge at you and hurt you, but you know that you’re hopefully somewhat safe since there is a camera pointing right at the doorway you’re standing in. All you can do is nod, your wide eyes staring up at Jared as he continues to belittle you. Talking about how quickly he could fire you and all the things you have already done that he almost fired you for. He doesn’t hold back on his insults either, he cuts deep and on purpose too. He never once acknowledges the fact that you did things that aren’t on your job description for free today and on most days, but you aren’t about to bring that up to an alpha that is screaming in your face.

“now qui' your fuckin’ crying and ge' back ou' there!” He shouts, pointing over your shoulder towards the dining room. “And if i ge' a single complain' tha' you are crying, you’re fired!” He shouts again as you turn and scurry away from his office. You struggle to keep your emotions in check as you wipe your face of tears and prepare yourself for the trip to your table. You speed walk to the doors of the kitchen, with your head low so the kitchen staff can’t see the tears that they know are running down your cheeks. You take a deep breath once you are there and push through the door, your face immediately brightening up.

You spend the next three hours doing the most random tasks that you could ever think of, at Jared’s request of course. He didn’t stop the hosts from sitting people in your section while you are doing these things, in fact it feels like he told them to give you more. When you look around you can see that there are empty tables in other sections for way longer than they should be open. While in your section, a table would leave and it was like the busboy was waiting for them to leave, then a host would fill the table not even a minute later. You are in a constant battle between greeting customers and giving their checks, making your brain scramble from the switching. On top of that you have the weird ass requests that Jared is assigning you one after another.

Instead of hanging out in the kitchen like you normally would have when you have some downtime, you go to your jacket and get the emergency stash of cigarettes that you save specially for days like this one. Where you can’t see an end to your suffering. You grab your lighter as well and make your way to the back door, hoping Jared isn’t in his office so that he wouldn’t see you. It’s not like he is going to stop you from going on a smoke break. You hope. Thankfully you are able to get past the office and out the backdoor without any commotion from Jared, the cold air biting at your cheeks. It is cold outside, but you don't want to bother putting on a jacket when you are only going to be out here for a few moments. Hopefully the cold air will refresh your brain and the rest of your shift won't be as miserable. Unlikely. You put the cigarette in your mouth and hold the lighter up to the stick, watching and inhaling as the paper starts to burn. You’re able to put the lighter back in your pocket and take a drag before you hear the door open and a voice speak to you.

“Pretty omega like you shouldn’t be smoking, gonna ruin your pretty body.” The creep Tyler speaks out, his breath fogging in the air. You stop yourself from scoffing and just shrug, not even bothering to look at him. Your brain is far too overworked to even pretend to like someone right now. Shock fills your body when you feel Tylers fingers grasp the cigarette and take it from between your lips. You slowly turn your head to look at him, your hand still up like you are holding the cigarette and your eyes filled with a fiery anger. Tyler doesn’t seem to notice the anger, or maybe doesn’t care, he just smirks at you. Your eyes follow the cigarette as he drops it to the ground and snuffs it with his foot. “Just lookin’ out for you, hun. I’m sure you understand, it's my place as an alpha. Just like it's your place as an omega to obey and do as you're told.” He mansplains away while you play with the lighter in your pocket, wishing you could do something to him. He continues to talk to you, but you aren’t listening. You’re looking at his face, almost through your eyelashes, with the most uninterested look on your face.

“Look, babe.” The nickname slipped off his lips like nails on a chalkboard, making you want to immediately want to sock him in the face. “I know that you are mad at me for putting out your cig, but you gotta understand-” You cut him off with a hand to the face as he tries to reach for a piece of your hair. “I completely understand, there is no reason to speak to me like I am a child. Thank you very much.” You tell him, walking in front of him to go back inside when he grabs your wrist. “I don’t think that’s any way that you should be talking to an alpha, Hun.” He says through clenched teeth, trying to keep a charming smile on his face so that you don’t see him for who he actually is. “I mean, some of these alphas will seriously reprimand you for something like tha’.” He tells you as his grip slightly loosens up when he realizes how aggressive the grab may have seemed. He has to make sure he holds up this fake personality so he can lure you in, he doesn’t know you know. You can tell that when he says ‘some alphas’ he really means himself.

You don’t know what comes through you, the way that he has treated you, the first time ever meeting this man, and he has the audacity to act this way. It has you seeing red. You rip your arm out of his grip and walk away back inside. You’d rather not have a smoke break then be around this douche. “I have a pack.” You lie over your shoulder, glaring at him as the door opens and you step inside. The anger is deep in your chest, threatening to bubble out like it is a volcano waiting to erupt. You have to take deep breaths so that you don’t flip out.

As soon as the door closes behind you, the confidence stays outside apparently, because you can feel your chest tightening. You cover your mouth with a shaky hand and hold the spot he grabbed with your other. It was the first time in a long time that an alpha put their hands on you. You felt the aggression in his grab and then the way that his fingers loosened once he realized he was going to give himself away. Your moment is cut short by a noise coming from Jared’s office and not wanting anymore trouble with any alpha’s today, you are quick to scurry to the handwashing sinks. You wash your hands and make your way to your purse so you can spray yourself with perfume. You don’t want to go back to the dining room smelling like smoke. Luckily the spot they make you put your stuff is far enough away from the kitchen that you don’t have to worry about contamination. They probably planned it that way.

You take a moment to breathe before you are forced back into the muskiness of the restaurant. Even when alpha’s wore scent blockers, there was still this mucky scent. You find it repulsive and have to hold back your gags sometimes with how bad it is. You force a fake smile on your face and exit the kitchen, walking around your large section to see if anyone needs anything, to catch up on the lost time during your smoke break.

While you’re at one of the tables, a pack omega looks at your arm and nudges her beta, whispering something into their ear while motioning to your arm. You don’t notice the way the beta’s eyes become worried upon seeing the light redness that is forming on your arm from where Tyler grabbed you. “Hey, darling.” The beta greets you, cutting you off from a conversation with their alpha. Your eyes go to the beta’s, filling with dread as someone cuts off an alpha. “You’re not being..hurt at home, right?” They ask, their fingers brushing over the newly formed patch on your arm that is obviously someone else's doing. You are a little confused why they are so concerned over such a small injury, if you can even call it that, but grateful they were looking out for people. Your eyes go back to the alpha and he’s looking at you like he is waiting for an answer as well, not even bringing up the fact that his beta just interrupted us. It only serves to confuse you more.

The alpha raises his eyebrows as if to say ‘spit it out’, but for once from an alpha, it doesn’t feel mean. The worried look he tries to bury in his eyes is obvious to you, you aren’t used to it from people like him. You stutter for a moment before you take a deep breath and sigh, trying to collect your thoughts. “I ran into one of the shelves in the kitchen and I bruise easily, is all..”  You tell them nervously, not liking the feeling of all three of their eyes on you. It feels like they can see right through your lie. Your eyes cast down, but you can tell they are scanning your face to try and find any reason to not believe you. They stare at you for what felt like two minutes, it is closer to 10 seconds in reality, before the beta sucks on their teeth. “I believe them.” They tell their alpha, sitting back in their seat and taking a sip of their to-go cup you just gave them.

You feel like your face is lighter, like 10,000 pounds had been lifted from your chest as the alpha nods in agreement with his beta. “Okay, we believe you..” He says skeptically, his eyes squinting at you to try and get you to break. But you stay strong and smile warily at him, feeling uncomfortable under an alphas gaze. Your eyes widen when the alpha grunts and rubs his shin, his gaze shooting towards his omega across from him. “'eave her alone , you're scarin' the poor thin’.” Her Geordie accent slipping off her tongue like butter. You can hardly understand her, but her pack seems to have no trouble. The alpha almost pouts and huffs at her. “Just making sure they’re alright.” He grumbles, you can tell he kicks her under the table but much softer.

The beta rolls their eyes at their pack's antics and pulls their card out of their wallet, handing it to you in between two fingers. “Don’t be scared of Jessy.” The beta tells you kindly, their smile radiating as you take their card. “He’s a big teddy bear.” They continue, their eyes going to their alpha who is still ‘arguing’ with the pack omega in a hushed tone. You take that as your cue to leave and weave your way back through the crowd to the kitchen. You pray that Tyler isn’t in there, waiting for you like a creep

Once back in the kitchen, you are lucky to see that Tyler isn’t currently in there. You glance around a few times, as if trying to scope him out like he is hiding somewhere. You aren’t going to take any chances with a guy like him, he gives you the weirdest vibes on top of just being a garbage person. You don’t waste anymore time and check the table out, you feel like you’re moving faster than you ever have before when checking out a table. The idea that Tyler can come in here at any moment and try something with you again, and no one would care or stop him, is plaguing your mind. You can’t stop thinking about all the different ways that things can go wrong with a guy like him. He can end up doing horrible things to you and there is nothing you can do to stop him.

You scramble out of the kitchen as soon as you are done, booking it to the table, whose card and check you have. You have to angle your body to the side to fit through a few gaps between people, holding the checkbook close to your chest so no one can try to take it from you. Which has happened in the past, their whole meal came out of your paycheck along with the fee for having to get a new card. But luckily you get to their table without any problems. Setting the book down on the table you smile, a little warrily, at the alpha at the table. “I hope that you and the rest of your pack have a good day.” You say softly, hoping the others don’t take it as you trying to flirt with their alpha. That is the last thing you want from them.

The alpha looks at the check and then back at you with a confused look on his face, making your chest tighten for the hundredth time today. “Who gave you their card?” He asks, his face dropping into a more serious look, his voice dropping as well. You freeze, your mouth opening and closing almost like a fish as you try to fight through the fear that came along with seeing the sudden change in his demeanor. “Um, your beta did, sir..” You reply, your voice meek. You’re scared that the alpha is going to lash out in front of you, start yelling at his beta for paying for the meal without his knowledge. Jessy’s eyes shift to his beta, his eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. He just stares at him like that for a few seconds, glaring into his soul before his face lifts a little. “How many times have I told you, Malakia. I pay for everything and you guys just sit back and be pretty.” He complains, reaching over and flicking his beta on the arm. “How do you even have money in your card?” He asks, his eyes squinting in suspicion.

You take a sharp breath in and force a smile on your face as you try and calm your nerves. “Well, I hope you three have a great rest of your day.” You say, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you bid them farewell with a small nod of your head. You turn and walk briskly through the crowd, not wanting to intrude in their conversation about their finances. It was always the worst when couples or packs would talk about personal things in front of you. It happens why more than you were comfortable with. People even go as far as to talk about their sex life in front of you. Sometimes it feels like they're doing it just to make you uncomfortable.

You push through the swinging doors of the kitchen and are met by Tyler grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, darlin’” He greets you, stepping out of your way only to redirect his path to follow you. Your head lowers a little bit and you side eye him a bit, trying to put off the most uninterested vibe you can muster. You are wearing scent blockers so he can’t smell the souring of your scent, but you can feel it. Your chest always feels tighter and it feels like you are breathing smoke, thick air that makes your throat burn somehow. “It’s the end of my shift and I don’t have any more tables, I can’t stay to help you with anything if that's what you’re wondering.” You dismiss him entirely, your eyes watching in front of you now as you make your way to the lockers. “Actually, Jared wanted me to let you know that you need to stay for a double.” He says, his tone sounding overly remorseful, like he is actually mocking you. You can’t see his face, but you know that he has a dumb smirk on his face, watching as the horror dawns on your face.

Your head snaps towards him and you make eye contact before you have to look away, you ignore how you caught a glimpse of his smirk falling when you looked at him. “I already worked my double this week.” You explain to Tyler, your voice sounding a little frustrated. “I’m already working overtime, I don’t want any more hours.” You sigh out, your shoulders slouching in defeat. “Well, someone had to go home because they had a headache. We need someone to cover their spot.” He tells you, not budging on the subject. You don’t understand how someone who was so new already had so much more power and authority over you. “Who left?” You ask quickly, already knowing Jared screwed you over on purpose. You are his least paid employee, he loves sending people home and making you stay later so he doesn’t have to pay as much. “Ace.” He tells you. “It had to have been going on for an hour, he had to go home.”

You have to hold back a laugh of disbelief, nodding your head. Ace is a beta, of course he is allowed to go home like that. They would have killed you if it had been you that asked to go home because of a headache. “Whatever.” You mumble out as you turn on your heel and head to the host station to figure out what section is yours now. Tyler is left smirking at your displeasure, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. It is like it is burning holes in your skin.

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You're practically in tears by the time that you get to your car, your shoulders are raised and your head is lowered so you can warm your cheeks with your jacket and scarf. You are quick to unlock your car because you had rushed out of the building to avoid Tyler being able to follow you. He unfortunately was also working a double tonight so I couldn’t get away from him, he was basically your shadow the whole night, following you around like a lost puppy at any chance he had. Expect it wasn’t cute and he was being so passively rude the entire time. You wanted to strangle him by the end of the shift, but that would get you fired and also arrested, so you resisted. As you’re getting in your car, you hear his grating voice from across the parking lot. He is just coming out of the building and he was quick to find you. “Hey! I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye! You ran off before I could say anything!” He is shouting from across the parking lot.

You’re glad that you had hair over your ears so later you can blame you ignoring him on the fact that you had earbuds in and couldn’t hear him. You quickly get in your car and sling your bag into the passenger seat of your car before you back out of the parking spot. He’s only halfway to your car before you start driving towards the exit, you’re glad because you wouldn’t put it past him to jump in front of your car to stop you from leaving. Luckily he doesn't have the space and just stands there staring at your car as you drive away, an almost shocked look on his face. You laugh at him and turn onto the road, driving towards home.

You’re almost relaxed as you’re driving home, as relaxed as an unmated omega could be in a world where they can hardly survive. But the feeling quickly leaves when your eyes spot the sign for the grocery store that you pass everyday. You groan out and hit your back on the seat a couple times before you change lanes to get into the turning lane for the grocery store. You totally forgot that you need to buy some things and you can’t put them off any longer, so you reluctantly find a parking spot and park your car.

You’re parked next to a car that has someone in it still, so you keep your eyes down as you get out of your car and walk in front of it since it's been backed into the parking spot. You can tell that the person inside the car looks up at you and watches you pass in front of their car, but you don’t think much of it. You would have done the same thing if someone had walked in front of your car. You don’t look up from the ground until you are inside of the store, in the cart lobby. It’s still cold in here despite the hot air that you can feel blowing from the vents. You always wondered how the workers that got them from the parking lot got them into the building. With how long they make the cart trains, it seems impossible.

You don’t realize that the person in the car you just passed was actually your neighbor, and he was now following you. Soap’s eyes are on you as he gets out of his car, walking a little far behind you so that you don’t think that someones following you. He’s not following you, he’s just… making sure you’re safe, making sure that you’re taken care of. He doesn’t want anything to happen to an unattended omega, he’d do it for anyone. He wouldn’t and he knows that, but he doesn’t want to feel like a freak as he watches you set your bag in the small cart you grab and make your way inside. Soap enters the lobby not too long after you did, you’re now inside of the store, and he completely ignores the cart that he needs to grab. He’s supposed to be getting groceries for the pack for the week and he’s not doing a very good job so far at doing that.

He follows you into the produce section, which is where you enter the grocery store. He watches you as you go over to the fruit section and start looking at the veggies on the shelves. You have to stand on your toes to look at the top shelves on the produce section, as it is just out of your eye sight. He pretends to look at the lettuce on the opposite side of the small section of the produce, angling his body so that he can easily see you without looking like he is actually looking at you. He wishes that he can go up to you, take your cart and do all the shopping for you. So that you wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you are so obviously tired.

Soap’s eyes soften as he watches you bow your head and quiver as a yawn rips through you, forcing its way out of your body. He usually thinks that people are unattractive when they yawn, but you look so cute when you do it. The way that you face scrunches up and the way that you can’t stop your body from shaking because of your yawn. He has to force himself to look away before someone, or you, catches him staring so intensely. He shakes his head and walks around to the middle isles, of course picking the one that is closest to where you are standing.

Soap can’t help but feel guilty as he goes through the store, following you from a distance so that you don’t get suspicious that he is following you. He watches as your hair slides down your shoulder, your arm reaching up to grab a bell pepper on the shelves. The way that your hand wrapped around the pepper. Because you are an omega, you are smaller than him and it shocks him to see the difference. He zones out while daydreaming about laying in bed, holding you close while he compares hand sizes with you.

He quickly snaps out of it and shakes his head, a cringe creeping onto his face. He can’t remember the last time he thought about something so sappy before. He looks back at where you just were, only to be met with some random man in your place. He freaks out for a moment before he gets a grip on reality. You probably just moved onto another section while he was distracted. After a quick glance around the store that he can see, he sees you at the bakery looking at some of the breads that they had left. This grocery store isn’t the best about freshness, they are too focused on having cheap prices to worry about the freshness of their produce and baked goods. That being known, the store is never really short on bakery items because getting the processed kind is cheaper and it lasts way longer. It just makes you feel special and you get the ‘fancy’ kind sometimes.

Soap walks over to the bakery and looks at the cheese that is on a display across from where you are standing. He stands on the other side so that he can look over the top of the display to look at you, and he can pretend he is looking at the cheese pretty easily. He holds a random piece of cheese in hand so that he isn’t caught following you around the store with nothing in his hands. He doesn’t know what kind of cheese he is holding, like it matters. All that matters to him at this moment is making sure that no alpha would put their filthy hands on what he has subconsciously decided he is going to protect. He can’t help it, your scent has helped him through nights when he is being stubborn and not sleeping with the pack over something silly that is bothering him. You may not know it, but he owes you.

You pick up a loaf of bread, looking at it for a moment before grabbing a bigger loaf. His gaze hardens at the thought of you having a pack. Having someone that won’t be able to protect you as well as can. All Soap can think about is how much better he can take care of you. To him, it seems like the people who he assumes are your packmates don’t take care of you. Anytime that he sees your roommate or Jasmine, he can’t help but scowl. He despises them for what he believes they have done to you. You deserve to be treated like you’re the last omega in the world, like the ground that you walk on is sacred. He’d make you feel like you are everything. Because you are.

He follows you around to the back of the store where the seafood is, and down one of the aisles that's across from the seafood counter. There are long freezers in the middle of the main aisle at the back of the store, Soap stands at the end cap of the one across from the aisle you are on. You’re looking at the chips, looking over the brands on tortilla chips. One hand is twirling a piece of your hair between a few of your fingers, your wrist twisting as you exchange the hair between your fingers. Your lips are formed into a pout as you try to figure out which brand is the best for you to buy.

Soap is ripped from his thoughts by his phone ringing in his pocket, which he ignores. He doesn’t want to look away from you, it is like he is in a trance. You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and slightly bend over to grab a bag of chips, putting it in the cart before moving down the aisle. You walk slowly down, your eyes scanning the shelves for anything that might catch your eye. You tend to forget things if you don’t write them down, but you can never really remember all that you need in order to write it down. Most of the time, you just end up walking through the store and hoping you get everything that you need. It almost always ends with not having half the things you went for, and having tons of things that you’ll use or eat. It is why Jasmine always does the shopping. That and she has more money than you do.

You hear a groan coming from the other end of the aisle, you turn your head and see a familiar face. Your neighbor. But this time, you don’t feel as panicked as before when you’ve noticed him from your driveway. Being this close to him, you can tell that he’s a beta, not an alpha like you had expected. It surprises you, since he is so tall and had the muscles that he did. Most beta’s are like a mid size, not as small as omegas but not as big as alphas. Your neighbor broke this standard way further than you have seen anyone do before. He is a sight to see. You can help but feel an appreciation for betas his size, you hoped he’d make a wonderful beta to a woman alpha. You always love to see it, two people who are not the norm find normalcy in each other's weirdness. That is love to you, it's what it is all about.

On the other end of the aisle, Soap pulls out his ringing phone and looks at the caller I.D. seeing the words ‘captain’ on his screen. He swipes his thumb over the green answer button, bringing the phone up to his ear. “I'm shopping, John. What's botherin ye?” He grumbles into the phone, looking at the chips in front of him before turning his attention back on you. He is annoyed that John is interrupting him when he is so engrossed in watching you. He just needs to make sure that your shopping trip isn’t ruined by anyone, he wants you to have a nice peaceful time. He wants to be there for you, because he cares. “Did you hear me, Johnny?” A gruff voice echoes from the other side of the phone, breaking him away from you once more.

All John gets back from Soap is a distracted sounding “Aye.” followed by the sound of shuffling and a muffled “Excuse me.” of Soap squeezing by an older lady on a motorized shopping cart that almost blocked his path to follow you. Luckily he quickly turned his body and made it through. He keeps his eyes on you, drilling into the back of your head as you make a right turn to go up the next aisle. “Johnny!” John barks from the other side of the phone, annoyance evident in his voice. “Wha' the hell are you doing? Are you even listening to me?” He asks, his tone accusatory towards Soap.

Soap huffs and backs off of you for a moment, remembering quickly that his mate is more important than the omega next door at this moment. He can make sure you’re safe once he is done talking to his alpha. Who is not only the reason he has a job, but is the reason he keeps it. John has single handedly saved Soaps careers more times than he can count at this point. It is honestly laughable. “I’m sorry, i'm here. Whit were ye saying?” He asks, taking a moment to look at the kitchen tools that are at the end of this aisle. He knows Gaz would appreciate new cookware, he always does “Ghos' needs you to come home soon, he doesn' seem very happy with you. Something abou' no' keeping your promises.” John explains to Soap sounding a bit frustrated with him, rightfully so. Soap lets out a long sigh and nods his head, which John obviously isn’t even able to see. “Bastard niver forgets anythin’.” He grumbles under his breath, which John heard and responded to with a low warning growl.

The last few days, John and Ghost have been way stricter than they had ever been. Soap and Gaz are hardly allowed to touch each other without their approval. It bothers the two betas because they know that it isn’t normal behavior for their alphas, but they don’t know what to do to help. They’ve tried everything they can think of at this point, they are out of ideas. Soap tried acting more submissive, but they got upset that he wasn’t acting like himself. Ghost complained that if he wanted someone submissive, he would’ve chosen someone smaller. He feels like submission did Soap's physique wrong, didn’t show off his body the way that Ghost liked, the way that Ghost knows Soap deserves to be seen. Gaz had tried sparring with them, that ended with his face smushed against the floor for an hour while the alphas had their way with him, consensually of course. They didn’t feel any better after any of these attempts, it usually only fueled them to make them more agitated than before. It makes the betas feel as though they aren’t good enough at their roles, that they aren’t worthy mates and aren’t worthy of their title of beta.

“I'm sorry, cap. I'll be home soon. The store is crowdit today.” Soap fixes his tone quickly, making a mental note that he’ll deal with those consequences when they arrive in front of him. “That’s better. Be safe.” John dismisses him, not even waiting for a response before hanging up the phone. Soap is left standing in the kitchenware and baking aisle, looking at stuff that he doesn’t even know what half is. He clears his throat to keep his emotions in check, swallowing a few times to control his tears. He doesn’t feel like he should be so emotional over something like this, he knows they’ll be okay, they always are. But they all know the risks of having a pack with more than one alpha that also doesn’t have an omega. They know that their relationship is fragile and that they have to be careful, they have been careful. Soap just needs things to be better again.

He sighs and makes his way to the opposite side of the aisle, at the back of the store. He grabs a bag of gummy bears off the shelf while he makes his way to find you. While he’s walking, he can’t help but realize how weird he is acting. He kept looking down the aisles like he is looking for someone he knows, someone who actually knows he exists. He remembers the times that you have scurried away from him, looking all scared and panicky. But his heart really clenches when he thinks about his pack. His pack is struggling and here he is getting so distracted by some random omega that he can’t even shop for his family. He groans and shoves the bag of gummy bears on the shelf before booking it out of the store. His pack needs him right now, more than you need his protection. You've done it countless times before, you can do it again.

He serves through the crowd, shoulder checking a few people on the way to the entrance of the store. He can hear the people scoffing and confronting him about running into them. He doesn’t give them the time of day as he books it through the door and towards his car. He practically tore his car out of that parking lot, he wouldn't be surprised if there are black tire marks on the asphalt where he had driven. The whole ride home, he can’t stop wondering if he is a bad mate, oogling over someone that isn’t in his pack and lying about it straight to his mates faces. Someone who he hasn’t even had a conversation with yet. He had spent well over half an hour stalking you through a grocery store under the guise that he was protecting you. While his actions were commendable, they aren’t when you don’t even know the person, especially when that person has run to hide from Soap in the past. He wasn’t painting a pretty picture for himself, but he can’t seem to bring himself to let go of you. The thought alone of leaving you to your own devices and not knowing if you are safe and cared for sent a shiver of unease down his spine, making him cringe and grumble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your hands are numb by the time that you pull into your driveway, having to go to the grocery store by yourself and then having to drive home took a toll on you. You had almost cried on your way home but had to stop yourself so that you could actually see the road. Jasmine wasn’t able to go grocery shopping for the two of you because she was busy, and your roommate buys his own food. You usually go with Jasmine and have her to lean on, but she couldn’t so you were forced to go by yourself  this time. But after a few deep breaths, you are able to calm yourself enough to get out of the car, making sure to pop the trunk before you close the door.

When you’re rounding the corner to the back of your car, you make eye contact with the man from the store, your neighbor. Since you were able to catch his scent in the store, you knew that he isn’t an alpha. And while this does lower your anxiety around him, he is still a stranger. His eyes look a little tired, glistening around the edges as his eyes scan your face. You can tell that something is bothering him, but it’s not your place and again, he's a stranger. But his tired face turns excited at the sight of your eyes meeting his, starting to make his way over to you. He walks like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just been sulking before he saw you.

You return his smile with a cautious wave, holding onto your bag that is slung over your shoulder. “Hi, neighbor!” He greets you cheerfully, stepping a bit into your personal space while he juts his hand out for a handshake. You start to smell freshly cut grass and are confused, no one had cut their grass today, it had been too cold in the past few weeks to even consider it. You’re confused for a moment before you realize that it’s your neighbor. You are closer than you had been in the store and now you are able to get a good read on what he truly smells like. His scent is so comforting due to him being a beta, that your hands start to gain feeling again. You look at his hand and then back at him, like you don’t know what to do, but quickly take his hand for a handshake. “Hello.” Your voice is soft and meek, like you are too afraid to speak too loudly at him.

Soap can’t stop beaming, his smile is bright and goofy. He’s just so excited to be able to formally meet you after spending so much time daydreaming about what you’re like. And after he stalked you through the store. He wasn’t expecting you to be so shy once he’d put himself out there for you, but he finds it adorable. He finds everything about you adorable. From the way you slightly rock on your heels, to the way that your eyes shine in the sunlight when you look at him. He can’t stop staring at your face and memorizing every detail.

 He gets snapped out of his thoughts by you clearing your voice, your eyes shifting to the ground as he reels back into reality. “Neit help wi thae bags?” He asks, already reaching out to grab a bag from your open trunk. You try to protest, but he’s already taking bags into his hands. “You really don’t have to do that.” You tell him, your voice coming out a little rushed as you watch the beta get all of the groceries out of your car. “Really, I can do it.” You rush out as you try and slide your smaller fingers under his fingers to grab the bags from him. He only shushes you and steps back to walk away. You quickly close your trunk and follow him with quick footsteps so you can keep up.

When your fingers touch his, he swears he feels his pupils widen. Your skin is so soft and warm against his calloused skin; your touch is so light despite the fact that you are trying to snatch your grocery bags out of his hand. He tries to compose himself as he brushes past you and towards your front door, he can feel the heat in his body threatening to raise to his skin to make him blush. You’re trailing behind him, a worried look on your face as you try and convince him that you don’t need his help. He doesn’t listen though, he ignores you as he stops in front of your door, waiting for you to open it.

You look worried as you shakily get your house keys out, sliding the key into the slot. Through your worried thoughts on how you are going to get him to not come into your home, he spoke up. “I’m no comin i, stop worryin. A can smell it on ye.” And you can feel your body relax as you open up the door. You’re usually not so quick to trust, but there is something about this beta that is different. He just feels so welcoming and warm, you can’t help but want to get to know him more. But you know that he comes from a unique pack, and you know that his alphas would not be happy if he comes home smelling like the omega next door.

Soap sets the bags just inside the door and watches as you step inside as well. He can tell that your movements are very calculated around him, like you are making room for him instead of making room for the both of you. He can tell that you are fragile, he doesn’t blame you. He can only imagine how hard it must be to live in a world that is rooted against you. You are considered the lowest of the low in society, but not in his eyes. In his eyes, you are perfect. He can tell that you aren’t comfortable in your own skin, but he thinks you were sculpted by the gods, inside and out.

You grab the door and swing it closed a bit, standing just at the opening to say goodbye to your helpful and handsome neighbor. You’d rather close the door in his face and go hide in a closet for two hours, but you have things to do and that would be rude. So you muster up the courage to actually speak to him again. “Thank you for helping me, you really didn’t have to do that.” You tell him softly, having a hard time looking at him in the eyes. You feel your eyes widen as his fingers go under your chin and tilt your head up to look at him. “Come on now, ye don’t have tae hide from me.” He reassures you as he retracts his hand, a soft and crooked smile on his face. “An it wis na problem, an omega like ye shouldn’t be doin things like thon.” He tells you, and you can tell that he doesn’t mean it in a mean way. He means it in a supportive way.

Soap glances over his shoulder and lets out a little huff, his fists clenching a bit at his sides before he looks back at you. “e let me know gin ye iver neit help. Okay, little ane?” His voice is serious, like he would be offended if you didn’t come over and get him the next time you need something. You nod and start to close the door, giving him a polite wave before slowly closing the door. Once the door was closed, you turned and pressed your back against the wood, your eyes scanning the house before you. Your roommate isn't in his normal spot anymore and you can hear Jasmine’s footsteps making her way down the stairs to help you unload the groceries.

“I heard a voice.” She states as she steps onto the hardwood with her sock covered feet, padding over to you at the door. “Sounded like a man.” She adds, wiggling her eyebrows at you. Your face immediately erupts into a blush, shaking your head dismissively as you stutter over your words. You don’t know what you can say that will be able to save you here. “It was the neighbor, he wanted to help me carry the groceries in.” You tell her, your voice shaking a bit more than you are comfortable with. You quickly bend over and gather a few bags into your hands and carry them to the kitchen, hoping that you can get away from Jasmine’s interrogation. Jasmine follows you with the rest of the bags and continues to pester you about it. You should’ve known better, she never gives up.

“Come on, you never talk to anyone and I heard you speak more than two words.” She exclaims just loud enough for you to hear, not wanting the mysterious roommate to hear your private life. You purse your lips and start to unload a bag. “We saw each other in the store, he’s a beta.” You tell her with a shrug, your voice quiet. You are caught off guard when she takes the cans you have in your hands into hers and pushes them to the side. “Spill.” She demands, her eyes squinting at you as a blush forms on your face.

“I don’t know, Jas. I felt comfortable around him..” You tell her, rocking slightly back and forth on your heels. “..I guess he’s cute, but he has a pack already.” You explain, continuing your train of thought. “He has two alphas. It would never work out anyways.” You say dismissively, shrugging her hands off of your shoulders. She has a smirk on her face, feeling victorious finally getting the information out of you. “You never know, hun. Things could turn around in the end.” She tries to perk you up, not wanting this to discourage you from going after you want. This is the first time that you’ve shown interest in someone other than people from the tv shows that you watch. She hopes that if things end up not working, that it won’t stop you from forming a bond with someone in the future. She knows how hard it can be to not get what you want so badly, and being so close to having it too.

The room is silent, other than the sound of bags rustling and things being put away, as you clear the room from the grocery bags. It doesn’t take the two of you long to unload the groceries since you didn’t get too much. Being inside of crowded stores by yourself makes it feel like your head is full of water, everything becomes overwhelming so you can’t stay long enough to get a lot. “Thank you for getting the groceries.” Jasmine says as she wraps her arms around you, squeezing tight to give you some compression. She can tell that you had a rough day, and then having to go to the store on top of that made it that much worse. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t go, work went on later than I thought it would.” She apologies, her voice muffled by your head as she presses her relaxed lips against your head.

You can feel the tension from the day start to leave your body as you are comforted by a familiar beta. You can tell that she is projecting her scent to help you calm down, her enhanced cinnamon scent almost burning your nose. While Soap helped you calm down after the store, he wasn’t able to wipe that discomfort from your body like Jasmine can. You are forever grateful for having her in your life, she has become your rock in the last years, helping you become the best version of yourself while supporting you when you mess up along the way. She is the best friend that everyone wishes they had, it felt like a miracle that your two paths crossed and intertwined. “It’s the least I could do, you are so helpful to me all the time..” You mumble as you tuck yourself against her as she holds you tight. It feels like she is squeezing all the worries out of you.

The two of you stand like that for a long while, only pulling away when a loud shout is heard through the wall. It is the booming voice of an alpha, it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your eyes widen. Jasmine covers your ears quickly and smiles reassuringly at you as she waits for the alpha next door to stop. Your hands go to cover her hands with yours, pressing harder on her hands to block out the sound further. It takes a few minutes, but they eventually calm down and Jasmine uncovers your ears, brushing some hair out of your face. “You’re okay.” She reassures you. “Sounds like he was upset that his beta wasn’t spending time with him.” She explains, pulling away and stretching her arms a bit.

You start to feel guilty, knowing that you had taken up some of this beta’s time, this beta that has an alpha. You look at the ground and you can tell that your scent sours again when Jasmine cups your face. “It isn’t your fault.” She tells you firmly. “He shouldn’t have helped you if he knew it would upset his alpha. That isn’t your fault.” She states, pinching your cheek to get you to perk up. You grumble at that and swat away her hand. “What have I told you about pinching my cheeks?“ You huff as you push her hands away further. Jasmine just smiles, relieved that she was able to help you calm down so easily. You cock an eyebrow at her as she just continues to smile at you, making her throw her hands up in surrender.

Jasmine feels bad that the only person that you seem to show an interest in has two alphas. She knows how hard it is for you to function when there is an alpha around, having two in the same household with you seems impossible. She’s tried her best in the past years that you two have known each other to get you to open up around alphas. But, your past with alphas is hard to forget and there seems to be nothing that Jasmine can do to make you feel better. She gave up eventually, and ended up just accepting the quirk that you have. You are able to make it through life without it being too inconvenient for you, while it is hard and sometimes frustrating when an alpha doesn’t get the hint.

You can feel your ears perk up slightly when the roommate comes out of his room and comes to sit in his normal spot. You squint your eyes and then give Jasmine the side eye as if to ask ‘what’s with him?’ She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes and motions for you to come closer. You’re standing near him, and the roommate, who you still don't know the name of, has given Jasmine no reason to trust him. You are quick to listen to Jasmine, not questioning her for a second. You step towards his and grab her hand for comfort.

He’s never once tried to help in any of the house responsibilities or tried to help either of the two of you with emotional needs, which isn’t quite normal for a beta that is in such close quarters with other people. Most betas and omegas take on the responsibility to help in these kinds of situations, even if they are not in a pack together. The place that you live in will be peaceful if you take care of the things inside of it. The only exception to this unspoken rule you can think of would be if he is in a rival pack, but he lives with two random strangers and doesn’t have any marks on his neck so he’s not in a pack. Nothing about this man makes sense to you or Jasmine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soap watches as you turn slightly and the door closes softly, he can’t help the smile that covers his face. He can tell that he makes you a little nervous, but he can’t help himself from teasing someone as cute as you are, even just a little bit. He turns on his heels and walks with a newfound energy towards their side of the conjoined building. He walks across the top of the driveway, having to squeeze his muscular body between the garage door and car that was parked there. It was probably Gaz's, the man never drove his own car, he either had the others drive him, or borrowed one of their cars for the day. It was frustrating, but the three of them can’t resist that slight pout that comes to his pretty lips when they get upset at him.

Soap reaches the door and pushes it open, smiling as he enters the house, stepping into the small entryway that has only a table and a mirror. The boys were never too keen on decorating, only doing what they needed. He closes the door behind him and he doesn’t even make it five five steps into the kitchen before he feels a hard chest against his back and an angry puffing breath against his ear. From the vanilla and mahogany scent turned moldy, Soap could tell that it is Ghost that is angrily making himself known. “Care to explain why you smell like an omega?” Ghost growls out, his hands going to grip Soaps elbows tightly. “Why..” He takes a deep breath. “It’s recen’.” He growls lowly.

Soap feels panic rising in his chest, feeling as though he’d been caught. If it were normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be so nervous that Ghost was mad. But he’s been flirting with you, trying to touch you when he shouldn’t even really be talking to you with how worked up the boys have been recently. “Um.., yeah.” Soap hesitated, his voice coming out a little squeaky at first. “She wis takin the groceries inside aw bi herself.” He explains, trying to move his arms so that he can reassure Ghost with his touch. Ghost doesn’t budge, he only lets out a warning growl to let Soap know that he is exactly where he wants him to be.

Ghost can feel his anger growing and swelling inside of his chest, he feels like he can’t control himself. He huffs and puffs for a moment, his grip tightening on Soap’s elbows. “Are you fucking kidding me, Johnny?” Ghost asks, making Soap’s heartbeat pick up. He knows that Ghost would never hurt him, but after seeing what he’s like when torturing someone for information and on top of his guilt behind the situation, Soap can’t help but get nervous around him when he’s this angry. “You barely fricking greeted me when came home from training the other day because you had to take care of price. Which is fucking peachy. Bu' then you go on a date with him so he can ‘make i' up to you’! meanwhile, i’m over here pulling my damned hair ou' because i can’' ge' a single piece of attention from either of my betas!” Ghost rants, his voice increasingly getting louder the longer he talks.

His grip on Soap’s arm is tightening with every second that passes, starting to become painful. “Ow, Simon..” Soap quietly complains, trying to softly tug his arms out of Ghost’s grip. Ghost immediately lets go and starts to pace around, his hands going to his hair. Soap turns around to face him with a worried look on his face. It isn’t normal for Ghost to act like this. “Then you go to the store to buy food from the store, your alpha even called you while you were quite! no' only did you hardly pay attention to him while he was quite talking, you came home empty handed!” He shouts, stopping to point a finger at him accusingly. “And then you come home smelling like the omega nex' door! because she needed help!” He mocks. “She has a pack literally inside her house!” Ghost reminds Soap

All soap can do is stand there with a guilty look on his face, nodding along with Ghost’s yelling. “You better hurry your sorry arse  to Price's office.” Ghost growled, his voice low. “You better be thankful he’s dealing with you, i wouldn’ have gone so easy.” He tells Soap, glaring at him as he slithers around him and scurries up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @Horny-bish @Wizzdot @the-loneyest

Please put your age in your bio if you want to be added :)

A/N: really sorry about the wait this time guys. I had this all planned out and was working on it nonstop just for my dog to stop walking. It was crazy. She’s doing a lot better now, she’s pretty wobbly on her feet but we don’t have to help her walk anymore.

[simps-4-russian-assassains]

Nobody has asked but here’s my head canons of what instrument each character would/‘ve played if/when they were in high school… basically high school Band AU (? I have no idea what I’m doing)

Elliot Stabler: Trumpet (look at that man and tell me he doesn’t look like he would play the trumpet, like come on his posture screams that plus of course military but I digress)

Olivia Benson: Bass Clarinet (her mother feels like she wouldn’t allow her much choice in which instrument she could play. So her choices would be either flute or clarinet becuz her mom wouldn’t want to deal with the noise. And so she picks clarinet but then highschool comes around she’s starting to want to distance herself from her mom and the band needs a bass clarinet… two birds one stone)

Melinda Warner: Saxophone (She’s a part of the group, but she feels slightly separated. You don’t worry about her becuz you know she can do her job. She gives the cool energy of the quiet saxophone kid that kept the band together. *Fun Fact, she is what inspired me to do this whole list becuz I watched the episode where it’s mentioned she was Air Force and just immediately knew she was in the Air Force Band*)

John Munch: Percussion/mallets (dude gives he learned piano as a kid and so can do mallets, and he gives vibes of percussionist that you have no control of his attention in the back of the room *He’s talking about his conspiracy theories* the vibes are there)

Odafin Tutuola (can’t spell it): Percussion/Toys (he gives crash cymbals… idk what to say, he looks like he’d be able to do the cool tricks *how he got his nickname, cuz the cymbals are his fins* and his relationship with Munch screams the old married couple of the section)

Alex Cabot: French Horn (look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think Alex *Hi, Uncle Bill* *Nepo Baby* Cabot wouldn’t play a stick up the ass instrument? But also play it so beautifully, and she gives the vibes dammit)

Rita Calhoun: French Horn (same reasons as above but also throwing in her and Alex’s friendly rivalry always fighting over first chair)

Casey Novak: Percussion/Trap Set/Quads/timpanis (Ok so she’s a bit more complicated. The swagger? Gives percussion. Her passion? Personality? Gives more then one drum at a time. And so I had to have one per season of band *Marching, Jazz/Concert, and Concert* I’ll include headcanons at the end if you need some mental imagery)

Amanda Rollins: Flute? (Open to contestments, only started rewatching SVU and so haven’t rewatched newer seasons yet, I can be persuaded on anything with her)

Sonny Carisi: Drum Major (the way he holds himself, and his presence within the squad, he’s a multi trick pony *Detective and ADA*)

Rafael Barba: Bass Drum (His presence is solid and consistent. He himself doesn’t necessarily need to be loud, he’s a constant solid beat, constantly moving them forward.)

George Hyuang: Clarinet (he reminds me of people I went to school with who played clarinet *In a good way* more evidence later on.)

Donald Cragen: He’s the director (obviously he’s the one in “charge”, he just gives director energy *its the dad energy* but when he was in band he play percussion specifically the toys, like triangle and cowbell)

Liz Donnelly: PTA Mom/Trombone (When she was in school? She played trombone, it fits the vibe of her being a girl/woman trying to fit in a stereotypical “boy/men” role. And I can see her trying to showboat act tough with it… idk I can talk more about what I mean but 🤷🏼‍♀️. But she also gives extreme PTA Mom vibes. But like in the way that she’s actually in charge, she’s keeping everyone alive. In the “well Cragen won’t care that much’ ‘but Donnelly is gonna kill us”, idk I see her with her 80s hair with a turtle neck sweater with a “I’m with the band” t-shirt over it, doing all the extra stuff… she’s band mom)

Lena Petrovsky: Choir Director (has to deal with their shenanigans, if needed can reign students in, must chaperone on most trips. She hates them, but she tolerates the few kids that are in both band and choir)

I’ll happily take suggestions… on most of them… I’ll hear anyone’s opinion about it

[disappearinginq]

Nothing like thinking you're over PTSD (which I don't even like saying I had) and then trying to plan a trip that involves public transit and all you can think of isn't "wow, super convenient and affordable way to travel" but "Soft targets" and now planning vacation has become a high stress event that you're treating like a op.

[wazzappp]

Fun thoughts I am having while hiding in my room away from the friends my mom has over (I love her but I can only hear 'My name is Mary like the virgin but I'm not' so many times).

Re!Robbie vs Canon Robbie when it comes to sound design and how it's frightening in different directions.

Canon Robbie is LOUD when he's the Rider. They're always screaming or growling or howling in what I can only imagine is some god awful hybrid of human distress and engine noises. Which is scary as SHIT. It lends itself very well to the sort of fast paced chases that happen, and using sound to distract or overwhelm prey makes a LOT of sense for them. It's hard to think when your running away from something that won't stop screaming at you. Plus there's the fact that stealth doesent make a lot of sense for them. They're on FIRE so who CARES if they're loud yk? Overall 10/10 very scary I love this angy boi he's doing GREAT.

RE!Robbie in his altered state is the OPPOSITE. He barely talks at all unless he's trying to call out for Gabe or Lisa. He might let out a grunt or small noise if he's hurt. But for the most part, he's just. Quiet. That consistent wheezing death rattle of someone whose about to die but it never happens. Not talking, not yelling, just watching and waiting for a moment to attack. Very spoopy in my opinion I love them both <3

[k20spock]

I’ve been indulging in all the jokes as one does during a historical event but I’ve been in such a bad mood honestly I can’t concentrate I’m so angry at everything. I hate that the entire world is forced to pay attention to and worry about which evil fucking old man is going to clamber aboard the head seat of this evil fucking country. I can’t do anything.

[carelesscuriosity]

Captain Laserhawk kinda sucked? It felt like an ip-focused cash grab that didn’t actually have anything meaningful to say covered with a coat of cyberpunk paint

[universalsatan]

sometimes i forget how distinctly american my mother is, and how we are generally a product of our surroundings

[vargamornight]

Well, kids, in the navy, "squad" is how you refer to any subgroup of sailors in a division. One division (about 30 people) generally has four squads (6-7 people per squad) but a squad can literally be like three people. In my first command, my squad was me, one guy who got kicked out for raping people, and a guy who wanted to be a pilot because of Top Gun but couldn't because he was colorblind. Plus our squad leader.

polycules of five or more should be organized like special operations squads. you have a commander you have sexual tension with. You have the sexy one. You have one with glasses. You know what I don’t know enough about squads i think

[bitter-and-queer]

.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

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“How are you settling in?” 

“Fine.” You shrug. 

“Any instinct to nest at all?” 

You shake your head. “No.” 

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?” 

You shake your head again. “No.” 

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?” 

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.” 

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?” 

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over. 

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve. 

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?” 

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you. 

To go back in time and never present as an omega. 

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.” 

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze. 

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?” 

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you. 

You just have to ask. 

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you. 

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow? 

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?” 

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it. 

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...” 

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you. 

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.” 

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see? 

How many scars do they have inside, too? 

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.” 

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier. 

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.” 

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you? 

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.  

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents. 

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller. 

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.” 

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping. 

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast. 

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind. 

A nightlight. 

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for. 

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day. 

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he? 

You don’t know that. 

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega. 

You’re a good omega. 

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually. 

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway. 

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips. 

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you. 

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest. 

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack. 

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself. 

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him. 

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base. 

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing. 

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know. 

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you. 

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England? 

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous. 

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you. 

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness. 

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then. 

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush. 

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?” 

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.” 

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.” 

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.” 

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes. 

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?” 

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.” 

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark. 

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now. 

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions. 

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.” 

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.” 

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?” 

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.” 

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.” 

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.” 

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment. 

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long. 

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water. 

“Quite a ways.” He answers. 

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack. 

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice. 

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat. 

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours. 

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in. 

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you. 

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top. 

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.” 

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat. 

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to. 

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor. 

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him. 

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s. 

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water. 

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below. 

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here. 

“A training exercise.” He says finally. 

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it? 

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.” 

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?” 

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.” 

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench. 

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.” 

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity. 

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch. 

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.” 

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.” 

Your frown deepens. “But-” 

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.” 

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that. 

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds. 

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin. 

They’re not from the cold either. 

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while. 

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence. 

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?” 

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.” 

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area. 

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.” 

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him. 

He probably knows you already have. 

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him. 

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets. 

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment. 

He could have had worse ones, you always thought. 

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness. 

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck... 

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart. 

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you. 

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about. 

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?” 

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas. 

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.” 

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out. 

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?” 

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.” 

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action. 

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-” 

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.” 

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha. 

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly. 

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.” 

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.” 

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.” 

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion. 

You want to kneel for him. 

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase. 

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin. 

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days. 

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.” 

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?” 

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin. 

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.” 

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks. 

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout. 

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.” 

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base. 

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.” 

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style. 

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you. 

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs. 

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep. 

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.” 

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.” 

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair. 

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing. 

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?” 

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder. 

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental. 

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet. 

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.” 

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek. 

“Stubborn little omega.” 

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally. 

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again. 

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions. 

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door. 

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp. 

You know what they’re going to think. 

The stares you’ll get. 

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you. 

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy. 

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.” 

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room. 

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.” 

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend. 

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need. 

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you. 

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare. 

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.” 

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way. 

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger. 

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him. 

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.” 

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.” 

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess. 

“What do you want?” 

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer. 

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation. 

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out, 

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you. 

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega. 

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once. 

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” 

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again. 

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit. 

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything. 

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you. 

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it? 

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you. 

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent. 

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks. 

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well. 

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.” 

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins. 

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-” 

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket. 

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists. 

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch. 

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside. 

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch. 

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.” 

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your  body looking in. 

“Probably not.” Ghost says. 

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.” 

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there. 

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax. 

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it. 

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?” 

“Very high.” He answers. 

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.” 

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains. 

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit. 

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand. 

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.” 

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again. 

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind? 

“Teach me to fight.” 

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years. 

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring. 

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha? 

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence. 

Monday. Early. 

You’ll be ready. 

NEXT ->

Taglist Part 1:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10

[beloveds-embrace]

Noona you have given me brain worms.

I wonder what the guys would do if they found the scentless reader had entered an enemy house and killed them all before the guys could get close because of their lack of scent? Does John hate using them for intrusions but does it anyways because it's the best chance of everyone coming home alive? Do the guys have a ritual of coming home off missions and rescenting their reader? I really need to stop thinking about this one and get back to homework.

(As an aside I am in LOVE with your writing and I read your works when I get stuck because you craft words so well.)

I claim no guilt over giving anyone brain worms, and omfg thank you!! That’s extremely high praise to me bc i absolutelyyy love your works <33 💕💕 :3 for your first question, they wouldn’t exactly be surprised. It’s why you were brought on the Task Force, it’s what makes you so useful. But once they reached the state of wanting you, and then slowly pulling you in?

They hated it. Hated it every damn time Price gave the order, even if they knew it was the right call.

No scent. No designation. No trace of you ever being there.

You were a ghost, in ways that even Simon couldn’t match. Silent, invisible to the senses, slipping through enemy lines like smoke and leaving nothing but bodies in your wake.

It was useful. Crucial, even. Quite literally the reason why the military had so much use of you. The best chance of keeping everyone alive. Price knew it, hated it, and did it anyway. Every time.

But it never stopped the way his chest felt tight when he had to send you ahead- alone. Never stopped the sharp glances Ghost shot him before you slipped away into the shadows, or the way Soap and Gaz went so still as they listened for any sign of trouble over the comms.

And it definitely never stopped what came after.

The moment you were back- safe and whole but covered in blood- Price’s hand was on the back of your neck, thumb digging gently into your faulty scent gland, his grip firm and grounding. Ghost was right behind him, his presence dark and heavy, crowding close enough to make your breath hitch. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to.

Soap and Gaz weren’t far behind. Soap’s hands were already reaching for your gear, tugging straps and buckles loose, brushing against your skin as if to remind himself you were there. Gaz hovered close enough that you could feel the heat of him, his fingers brushing yours when he helped you unclip your holster.

They didn’t leave your side. Not through debriefing, not through cleaning up, not even when you asked them to.

And later- once the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion set in- they were all but dragging you into the nest.

It was deliberate, the way they settled you down in the middle of it, surrounded by blankets that smelled like them, by them. Soap’s hands lingered on your hips, steady and warm, and Gaz was already curling up beside you, pressing into your side like he was trying to leave traces of his scent on your skin.

Price sat at your back, his chest pressed to your spine, one arm looped around your waist while the other cradled your head, tucking it under his chin. He didn’t say anything- just held you there, anchoring you in place as Ghost knelt down in front of you, tugging off your boots and brushing his gloved fingers along your calves and ankles as he went.

And then they started.

Ghost first, leaning in close to press his masked face against your neck. The slow, deliberate drag of fabric and leather along your skin made you shiver, and he didn’t stop until Price hummed low in approval. Soap followed, brushing his cheek against your shoulder before dipping low to nuzzle at your thigh, his hands curling loosely around your knee.

Gaz was next, pressing his forehead against yours and lingering there long enough that you could feel his breath warm against your cheek.

Price was last. His beard scratched lightly against your skin as he dragged his mouth along your throat and jaw, rumbling quietly when you tilted your head for him without thinking.

It took hours. Longer than necessary, longer than it had to, but they didn’t stop until you were covered in them- soaked in their scents and surrounded on all sides.

Didn’t stop until Ghost finally leaned back, pulling his mask away just long enough to press his lips against your temple, and murmured, “There. No one’s getting near you now.”

(If it was before, when you still didn’t realize what they were doing- everything was sharper. Tighter.

They didn’t say anything, but you felt it. Felt the weight of their eyes on you when Price ordered you to take point. Felt the way Soap’s jaw clenched when you slipped away, silent and invisible, like you always did.

You noticed how Gaz lingered by the comms, fingers tapping nervously against the console even though he wasn’t the type to fidget. How Ghost’s hands hovered near his weapons, muscles coiled and ready to move like he was waiting for something to go wrong.

And then there was Price.

Price, who stood stiff and silent until you reappeared, covered in someone else’s blood and staring at him like you knew he hated it but couldn’t bring himself to say so. Price, who didn’t let go of your shoulder the entire debrief, whose thumb rubbed small, grounding circles into your skin every time someone so much as looked at you the wrong way, and you told yourself it was just some weird Alpha instinct that you wouldn’t realize.

They didn’t say anything, not really. Just kept touching- light brushes of Soap’s arm against yours, Gaz’s hand lingering a little too long when he passed you gear, Ghost standing so close you could feel the heat of him against your back.

You thought it was just nerves. Stress. You didn’t think it was something else- not until later.

Not until you were sitting in the nest, exhausted.

Not until you caught Ghost staring at you like he wanted to devour you, or Price leaning in so close that you felt his breath on your skin when he murmured, “Stay still, love.”

Not until Soap tucked himself against your side with a soft, pleased sound, and Gaz let out a low purr, his hands running up and down your arms like he was soothing something neither of you could name.

You didn’t understand it- not then- but they did. The confusion on your face was almost cute if not just a touch infuriating.)

[7s3ven]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem! Hybrid! Reader where…

Notes: Y/N is a Dobermann hybrid, abuse mentioned, hybrid au where reader is a human with animal-like features, cussing, just a short little thing I wanted to write (might extend it later), reader is described as tall

Ghost wanted to forget most things from his childhood. They were traumatic and induced a sense of fear in him that he absolutely loathed.

The one thing he never wanted to forget, however, was you.

You were a hybrid, basically a pet to the Riley family. Ghost’s parents never saw you as fully human but they bought you simply to shut him up. Ghost remembered blabbering on and on about wanting a pet and then you showed up one day, tail wagging at the thought of being adopted into a happy family. That dream was soon crushed.

You were just as abused as Ghost. You were hardly fed and when you were, it was off Ghost’s plate. You were his duty and despite being yelled at day and night about how you were always in the way, he continued to love you.

You and his brother were the only good things in Ghost’s life at the time.

Ghost recalled allowing you to sleep in his bed when it got too cold, how he would snuggle up to you to regain some warmth through his thin blanket.

You were particularly protective over Ghost, always sending his father pointed glares when the older man snapped at him.

You hated his father just as much as Ghost.

Life with you around was bearable. You never complained when Ghost returned home and immediately tackled you into a much needed hug, tears threatening to pour out of his eyes.

“The kids at school teased me about my bruises.” He whispered and in response, you kissed the dark marks marring his skin.

You made life better.

Ghost was in his older teenage years, ready to finally pack up and leave with you when you suddenly disappeared. His lifeline had been torn out of his grasp by his father, who remarked how he sold you to earn some more cash.

All Ghost remembered was seeing red that day and storming out of the house with his things, never to return to that dreaded house.

He joined the military and his one most important mission in life was to find you. It didn’t matter how many years passed and how many ranks he had climbed, you were still all he thought about.

The world was different now. Hybrids were seen as actual people instead of glorified pets. There was still no trace of you; his last lead was a dead end.

Ghost was ready to give up before Soap and Gaz dragged a tall figure into the room. “Found ‘er at the enemy base.” Soap uttered, “Was snipin’ our men left an’ right.”

The figure had a bag over her head but Ghost’s gaze immediately landed on the prominent outline of two long ears.

“Hybrid.” Gaz notices his staring, “Some kind of dog hybrid.”

The hybrid is anything but calm. It takes both Soap and Gaz to hold her back.

Ghost is quick to rip the sandbag off her head, coming face to face with a pair of familiar E/C eyes. You look the same, only a little older. Your left ear was damaged, there was some sort of tagged embedded in your right ear, and the sight of a shock collar around your neck made Ghost sick to the stomach.

Seeing your face was a reminder of the pain Ghost had faced during his early years. He almost had the urge to back away into the corner as memories flashed through is head. But he remained strong.

“Take that damn fuckin’ collar off ‘er.” Ghost spat, staring at the shock collar in disgust. You didn’t recognise his face because of his iconic skull mask but his voice had your ears flicking.

You stared at him with your head tilted at a low angle, almost seeming like you were glaring but Ghost knew better. You were simply observing him.

The moment Soap’s fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, you wildly flinched. Despite being retrained to a chair, you thrashed around, slamming the back of your head into Soap’s face.

“Ow, lassie! Calm down!” The Scot yelled.

Ghost was quick to weigh you down, placing his heavy hands on your shoulders. “Ay, bloody hell, lovie, ‘tis alright. He’s only tryna help.” Without a second thought, Ghost lifted his mask to give you a peek of his face before he lowered it again.

You finally stilled, ears twitching as you stared at Ghost.

“You know her?” Gaz questioned as he picked at the locked collar with a screwdriver.

“Yeah.” Ghost’s reply was short. The moment the collar’s lock came undone, he grabbed it and threw it against the wall.

“Based on her injuries and the collar, I’d say she wasn’t working with the terrorist group willingly.” Price uttered, “Someone’s gonna have to patch her up.”

“The lass has already screwed me over, I ain’ doing it.” Soap grunted, holding his swelling nose.

“I’ll do it.” Ghost butted in.

Without Ghost’s teammates, you felt more at ease. You sat on the bed in Ghost’s room, allowing him to clean your wounds.

No words needed to be exchanged for Ghost to understand your pain. You leaned into his embrace as he carefully wrapped his strong arms around you, not wanting to alert you.

“Ain’ never letting ya go again, lovie. That’s a promise. Ya never gotta see my father or those terrorists again. I’ve got ya. You’re safe.”

[writingwisterias]

Okay so hear me out ( hello first, where are my manners )

but rly hear me out : Leon and the reader, the reader is pregnant, and the baby is born on September 30th. Like I can’t be the only one who thought about it ? Anyway, please don’t die I love your stories.

stay hydrated folks

Hello!

I actually love this, I could feel the angst and fluff. I will try not to die 🫡 I hope you enjoy and have a good day! And everyone that sees this is your reminder to drink water or anything please (Not proof Read I'm sorry it posted before I got the chance!)

I'm so sorry for how late this is please forgive me! I wanted to flesh it out a bit

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Pregnancy, Child birth (Not graphic), PTSD, Establsihed Relationship

ID!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

The red circle on the calendar was just a constant reminder to him. Not only because of the impending arrival of his child. But also of that one fateful night -- the day that changed his life. He would spend the entire year trying to forget about it and think of anything other than this. It was the devil's work he swore in that doctor's office when the date was announced. He watched you freeze, a fake smile now replacing the real one you had when you entered the office. Leon hated that one date could still have so much effect on the two of you. 

You grasped his hand during the rest of the appointment, and you watched as he sunk into himself, his eyes turning hazy as he dissociated. Your fingers squeezing his desperately trying to get him to come back. You would never blame him, the horrors he had been through were enough to break a thousand men and he was still here. You had asked him years ago to explain everything to allow the secret he had kept so long to be heard by someone he trusted to help him heal. Since then the pregnancy had turned into a nine-month countdown to the date. The small kicks he felt every night fought desperately against the feeling, the reminder. The life you were carrying to involve him in a never-ending circle of happiness was already trying to heal their dad. Leon was too good of a man to let this affect the relationship with the child, besides due dates can be wrong all the time. Sometimes the baby will come later, he might be lucky.

You watched him become nervous as the countdown began as you were in the final weeks of the pregnancy. It became a routine for Leon to stare at the red circle every morning as he made breakfast and coffee. Only getting worse since the date was only a few days away at this point. The nursery was completely decorated with things you had both collected yourselves and had been given in the baby shower. All of the baby grows were washed and put away, a large stockpile of diapers in the changing table ready to be used up. You were both just waiting on the baby. 

“Good morning” You spoke softly as you entered the room. Your voice is now the only thing taking his attention away from the calendar. Leon smiled at you, his oversized shirt draped over your body. “Morning” He mumbled, hand instantly smoothing the fabric smiling at the little kicks that greeted him. It wasn’t unusual for him to be awake early, his military timer being one of the things that never left him. Despite your attempts to train it out of him in favour for a few more hours in bed. “What’s for breakfast today? It smells good” You hummed sweetly looking over at the hob. 

You tried to hide it, you really did but Leon didn’t miss the twinge of pain in your face. The small adjustment you gave yourself as pain washed over you. “Are you alright?” He asked ignoring your previous question entirely. His touch was gentle a simple reminder of his support. You nodded muttering a small ‘yes’ despite your features clenched together displaying otherwise. His hand moved gently on your lower back, the movements distracting you from the pain. You knew what the date was but you also knew what the pain meant. You just didn’t have the heart to tell him yet. After spending the whole night hoping that maybe it was just a Braxton hix and they would fade away eventually. However, the world wasn’t that kind. “Love, please don’t lie to me. Not when you are this close” 

“The date-”

“I know the date…I don’t care not right now. Tell me what’s happening” 

You turned to him, finally able to stand up straighter now the pain had subsided. Leon knew what you were getting at, he’d read all the books and leaflets the doctor recommended. All to be able to recognise the signs. Leon ensured that he was as prepared as he could be but now it was happening he froze. Panic rose in his system as you had yet another contraction in front of him. The timings were too close together, you had waited for hours as he slept. Hoping it won’t fall on this date. For his sake. 

“Do we need to leave?” He asked, his voice catching in his throat. You nodded a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you held onto him, fingers digging in his arm as you let the pain subside. To his credit he worked quickly, gathering the bag and items you had prepared and putting them into the car. He was careful as he led you towards the car. One eye on the road and the other on you, pride swelling in his chest at how well you were handling yourself. He thought he would be more lost today, that the date would distract him from being present with you. It did occasionally, every time someone would remind you both of the fact the baby was arriving on your due date he would go silent. Get lost in his mind again. Only to be brought back by a softer comment from you or your touch. The same way you would normally bring him back after spending years with him.  

When getting himself coffee or ice chips for you; he would make sure to avoid the ER, the screams triggering his flashbacks. You were proud of him, he never let it show. Despite the circumstances, you knew he would be the best partner you could get in this situation. 

You tried to hold back from making any sound but the more you needed to push the louder you got. He didn’t blame you, he could see that you were trying for his sake. The hospital was already proving to be challenging with all of the other mothers throughout the day going through the same process just a few rooms down. Leon could feel your attempts to be silent in the way you gripped his hand. You saw Leon wince at every moan and flinch at every scream you made. It didn’t help the baby was progressing slowly meaning the process was dragged out. It seemed like the entire day was attempting to make this harder for him. 

Yet despite everything he still helped you through it, complimenting your progress and how well you were doing. “You can do it, You are doing so good” He whispered in your hair, placing kisses not caring for the sweat that coated your skin. His kisses were cold and welcomed against your sweaty skin. You shook your head exhaustion lingering in the corner ready to take over. The final moments were the hardest for him. Leon tried so hard not to let it affect him but the room was suddenly too loud as it now filled with the baby’s cries, the nurses praising you as you also cried. The wails reminded him of all the distant ones he heard as he ran around the police station, of all the people he couldn’t save as he was trapped inside. Your deeper groans of pain sounded similar to Marvin’s as he spoke helping Leon out of the station. 

You felt his presence, but he wasn’t there, his eyes watching over you with that hazed look again. You wouldn’t hold it against him; it was enough that he was here physically. You knew he hated the hospital, the sounds of everyone injured and in pain. You’ve spent countless times trying to force him to get his sickness checked out by doctors instead of googling the symptoms. However, you knew that once the noise reduced, he would come back, and he would enjoy the moment. 

Guilt washed over him as he held the baby the small bundle watching him with curious eyes. You were asleep, having some well-deserved rest. The machines beeped around him, the noise of the hospital fading as he looked back into those blue eyes. They were so small in his arms, their head cradled perfectly in the palm of his hand. This is what he endured and fought for that night, the chance to have a life at the end of it. To have happiness and love surround him in even the smallest ways. Leon didn’t know he was going to be tracked down and blacked mailed by the government for just surviving the events of Raccoon City. Neither did he know that he was going to have to sign his life away putting what he assumed as pure luck into training. He had just watched you champion this for 9 months, endure days of morning sickness, all of the growing pains without a complaint. Looking forward to the future when you can finally hold the baby. He supposed in his own long-winded way he did the same. 

All the nightmares suddenly didn’t matter anymore, not when a positive thing overtook them. Soon to be interrupted by softer cries in the night. The small bundle he held in his arms wasn’t just a new birthday to celebrate for them but for him as well. For the new Leon that wouldn’t let that one night dictate the rest of his life, haunt him forever. It was his chance at a rebirth, at a new beginning. Not only as a husband and father but just as himself. 

[oceantornadoo]

Please I just want to say I LOVE YOU AND YOUR WORK HUHBBDEUBYUVTYVTUOVY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you could come up with anything more on the Simon Riley Cut-bulk-the-bird-said-she-liked-me-big-thing I will be your servant forever.

tw: body talk (i headcanon simon as someone who shops in the big & tall section so i think his clothes would fit the body type of every reader. if you shop in that same section, imagine him being MORE bigger and taller than you. mans is 6'4 fr)

--

(a few months later)

simon almost ripped the shirt off his body in frustration. another piece of clothing he had outgrown. he added it to the pile of clothes that he couldn't fit anymore. sleeves too tight, stomach pushing out the fabric. sure he was still in shape, could pass the military physical easily, but he was no longer the lean 22-year-old he once was, muscles now hidden under layers of fat. and he hated it.

there was a knock at the door. still a little pissed off, he opened it with more force than necessary, grunting out "what." before even looking down at who knocked. just his luck, it was you, the one person he tried to be nice to.

"what's got you so grumpy?" you smiled up at him, all sugar and spice. you loved simon's growls, the social anxiety and introvertedness he hid under irritation. it just made it more valuable whenever he laughed at one of your god-awful puns or let you lay on his shoulder. you were never second-guessing if he liked you, mostly because he hated everyone else.

"sorry, didn't see it was you. was jus' doing some spring cleaning." you laughed, a tinkling sound that transitioned into a snort. he loved your insane laughter, a real sound of joy. you peered around his large torso and spotted the pile of clothes on his bed. "doing a big donation, simon?" it was always a punch to the gut to hear his name come out of your mouth, laced with sarcasm and cheek. ever since he told you you could say it in private with him a month ago, you never stopped using it. "somethin' like that. clothes piss me off." you huffed, pushing past him easily as he let you into his room. he closed the door behind you, trying to calm his heart rate as he saw you, here, in his space. like you were his too.

"what did the poor fabric do to you?" you sorted through the clothes, seeing nothing wrong with most. they were all practical clothes, but none had noticeable holes or wear. he mumbled something, too low for you to catch it. "say that again?" he scratched his head and looked away, almost meek. "said they don't fit." ah, there was the problem. "that's okay. just means your muscles are too big." you tried to give a compliment, anything to get rid of the storms in his eyes. "nah. 've gotten fat." you put the shirt you were holding down with force, stomping over to where he had now taken a seat at his spare chair. you stepped between his legs, which opened easily for you. you gripped his chin and turned it towards you, forcing eye contact. "so what? just means you've been eating well, simon. nothing wrong with that."

he looked down, almost reminding you of a kicked puppy. "you don't care?" you weren't dating, yet, but you two had some sort of a romantic understanding. some acknowledgement of there being more, an exclusive connection between you two. "no. i like my men big. like when you can throw me around." he barked out a laugh, surprised at your admission. you smiled back, satisfied. getting a laugh out of him was 80% of the battle. "and these clothes are still good for something." his eyes were on you again, questioning.

you walked back to the bed, full of confidence now. turning to face him, you slowly grabbed the hem of your shirt, untucking it from your tactical pants. he wasn't wearing his mask, so you could see his mouth physically drop at the action. ever so slowly, you raised your arms, bringing your shirt with you. you tossed the shirt aside, standing in front of him with only your bra and pants on. his eyes were dark with desire and he made a move to stand up, but you commanded him with a sharp "sit." like a loyal guard dog, he lowered himself back into his chair, complete captivated.

turning back to the bed, you grabbed one of his outgrown sweatshirts and put it on. it smelled like him, that masculine scent tinged with the cologne he sometimes wore. "see?" you gestured to the sweatshirt, too big on you. "you just gave me a bunch of free clothes." he grunted, still fixated on the sweatshirt. his lack of response made you nervous. "what?" you asked. "give us a spin." you spun slowly, trying not to smile too much. god, the things this man does to you.

"'like seeing my last name on you."

now whose jaw was dropping?

[midnightarcheress]

there's a lot of debate about being team civilian x team soldier for ghost's partner but honestly i love both ideas so much. just think of

simon riley with a civilian partner,

who pushed you away in the beginning because you were 'too pure' to be near a hell-sent monster like him.

who got himself lost in your sweet attempts to slip into the cracks of his heart and eventually surrendered on the battle against his own will.

who keeps a picture of your pretty face well hidden in his tac vest, as a reminder of the new purpose of his military service.

who tries to text you at least once a day when he's away, just to assure you about his well-being and to let you know how much he misses you.

who worries too much about your safety whenever he's deployed, so takes his time to teach you everything about self-defense techniques, ways to handle a knife, and how to properly shoot, as much as he hates the thought of you being even near a gun.

who's so scared of you getting hurt and nearly had a heart attack when he saw blood coming out of your finger after a small distraction whilst cutting the veggies for dinner.

who loves the way you view him as a hero, despite knowing how much of a cold-blooded killer he can be - he never told you anything about his missions, but he never needed to, you know.

who never allow you to see him wearing the mask or the balaclava because ghost is for battlefield, in your house he's purely simon.

and

simon riley with a soldier partner,

who was intrigued about your lack of fear when you first met, because everyone else seemed to shit their pants after a simple glare.

who forbid himself of getting close because the military is about following orders and getting the job done, not fraternization.

who nearly passed out after an instant drop in his blood pressure due to a pouring bullet wound - not because your surprisingly soft hands touched his arm.

who thinks you look the prettiest when you're in the field - sweating, panting, grimy with dirt and blood, barking in his comms to get to safety.

who's terrified of losing you during missions but is also completely mesmerized by your dexterity as you stab the throat of the soldier that seconds before had you pinned to the ground.

who communicates with you using his eyes at all times, since you can't see his expressions under the mask, creating a secret language you're the only one fluent in.

who hesitated on showing you his face at first because underneath it all, simon is a soft man, entirely different of the ghost persona you see during work hours.

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Glad you guys loved the first part despite it being so short.

PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION

The sunlight passed by the small gaps of the curtains, shining down on the face of a sleeping boy. Light blond hair messy but perfectly framing his beautiful face, red circles on his pale cheeks, a pop of color. He groans as he buries his face underneath the large fluffy white blanket, eventually groaning as he opens his eyes, [e/c] eyes adjusting to the brightness of his room. Sitting up on his queen sized bed that is surrounded by pillows. As much as he wants to sleep in, he has duties as an angel and as the son of [y/n] Caeles.

Getting out of bed, slipping his feet into the fluffy white slippers. He moved across his large room, stopping by a large mirror.

He frowns when sees his reflection, the only thing he can see is his deadbeat father who left his mother for another woman.

He hated it, he could see his supposed father staring back at him through the mirror. The fallen angel, Lucifer staring right back at him. A cruel reminder that he is his father's son.

He's thankful he has her eyes, at least he was able to have a piece of her on him. He hated his father, his mother never hid his father from him and told him everything what he wanted to know. He'd do anything for his mother. He loves her so much.

He knows that his mother often gets sad when he sees him, he knows because she could see the man that hurt her on his face. He doesn't blame her. He hated his face too, despite it being heaven's most beautiful facial features. He wished he had his mother's face instead.

Getting a large robe that was placed on the cushioned chair, draping it over his body. Time to get ready, he has a lot of work to do.

[Y/n] looks up from her newspaper, seeing her son finally entering the dining room, dressed in his military like uniform but in colors of white and gold. She sat on one of the chairs of the dining table, a breakfast already made by yours truly—pancakes and bacon and of course, two cups of steaming black coffee.

[Y/n]'s eyes lit up when she saw her son, “Good morning Xavier, did you sleep well?” she asked with a small smile, watching as the boy sat next to her. Xavier gave his mother a close eyed smile.

“Good morning to you too, mother. You look very beautiful this morning.” he says softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mother's hand ruffle his hair, playfully groaning. “Hey! I just brushed my hair.” Xavier says with a small pout and [y/n] chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.

“I couldn't help it, my boy is just the sweetest.” [y/n] says and Xavier blushes softly and just chuckles.

“It is because I have the most amazing mother in the whole world, that's why.” he says.

[Y/n] smiled at him, “Oh, you... Aren't you just the sweetest?” she giggled and he just chuckled.

The two made a sign of the cross, praying to say thank you for the blessings they have received. Finishing the prayer, the two finally ate breakfast.

“So you're going to be training with your uncle today?” [y/n] asked, looking at the young man beside her. Xavier nodded, he would be training with Uncle Michael today.

“Yes, mother. I am hoping he can help me improve on how to fight.” He says with a small smile and [y/n] squished the young man's cheek, the latter pouting.

“I know you'll do great, you make me so proud.” [y/n] says softly and Xavier had to try so hard not to cry. He loves it when he makes her happy, his mom deserves the whole world after all.

“Thanks, mom.” he says softly and her eyes soften and they continue to eat breakfast.

After breakfast, Xavier helped his mother clean up the table and offered to wash the dishes. [Y/n] wanted to insist on doing it as she feared it would dirty his suit but the boy insisted. He just rolled up the sleeves and wore an apron.

When he was done doing his morning routine, he walked to the living room to see his mom already dressed for work. His eyes saddened, he won't be seeing her for a couple of days again.

Walking towards his mother, the older woman hugged her son. “Don't miss me too much, dearie.” [y/n] says with a giggle. Her hand rubbing circles on the boy's back.

“I'll try not to. I'm just worried.” Xavier says softly, he doesn't like it when she leaves to go to the mortal realm. He worries for her physically and mentally. Humans, human way of living is very... Mentally unhealthy and he fears it will affect his mother too.

[Y/n] smiled softly, patting the boys light blond hair. “Do not worry about me, Azrael would be there to protect me if needed.” she says with a smile.

With the mention of the angel of death, Xavier sees the older man like a father figure. The man has always been present in his life.

Xavier smiled and nodded, “Alright.”

[Y/n] smiles, “Good luck with training, don't overwork okay? Summon me if you must.” she says sternly as the two finally let go of the hug, her hand was placed on her waist.

Xavier nodded, “I promise and I will make you proud.”

[Y/n] grins, “That's my boy,” she says and snapped her fingers and a portal appeared, “Goodluck kiddo, I'll see you in a few days.” she says softly and places a kiss on his forehead before going inside the portal. The portal closes.

Taking one last look of himself on the mirror, the face of his biological father staring back at him. Xavier rolls his eyes and scoffed. Unrolling his sleeves, adjusting his collar. Unfurling his large and majestic white wings. It's time to train, he promised to become one of heaven's protector and he promised he'll rise the ranks and join his mother.

Training with his uncle went by smoothly, he did lost but at least he learned something. Xavier was flying around heaven, wanting to return home but his eyes landed on a familiar seraphim. Emily, his heart started to beat faster. He always liked the girl, the girl is pretty and kind, okay?

His eyes landed on the person wearing such bright red suit. An eyesore, really. A pop of color in heaven.

Xavier tilted his head and decided to approach the girls.

Emily jumped slightly in surprise, seeing the beautiful and handsome and nonchalant looking young general that is her friend landed beside her gracefully.

Yes, Xavier puts up a front in public. He doesn't want others to know he's a total Mama's boy.

Xavier nodded and gave Emily a gentle smile, “Greetings, Emily. Off to showing off a new soul around?” he asked, voice gentle and calm.

Emily grinned and blushed slightly, nodding. “Not exactly a new resident, just a visitor.” Emily explained and Xavier turned to look at this supposed visitor and he could feel himself freeze slightly.

Who wouldn't freeze when seeing the same face as you but in the opposite gender.

“Xavier, this is Charlotte Morningstar...” Emily says hesitantly, now remembering who's the biological father of the boy.

Xavier's eyes narrowed but was quickly replaced as he gave the new girl a closed eyed smile, a forced one. “Really? So that makes you my half sister then?” Xavier says with a grin and Charlie's whole being froze.

Emily looked at the two nervously, she knows Xavier isn't violent but she does know how the boy hates his biological father to the core.

“... Half sister...?” Charlie asked, her voice in disbelief.

“Indeed! We share the same father. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Xavier says with a grin but his eyes dull, no longer have the usual shine on them. Charlie was nervous, she doesn't know how to act around the boy. She knows he isn't lying because the boy literally looks like her father.

“How rude of me,” Xavier says with a small gasp, “Let me properly introduce myself, I am Xavier Caeles. Son of [y/n] Caeles. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear sister.” he says with a smirk, looking down on the girl (literally because he's taller than her, a trait he is thankful that he inherited from his mother. Good Lord, he would be miserable if he had his father's height), offering his hand for a handshake which the girl hesitantly and nervously returned.

“It is nice to meet you too... Xavier..” she says and Xavier grins, Emily just looked at the two nervously. Thanking that a fight nor an argument haven't started yet.

“It was a pleasure meeting you but I must go, I still have far more important matters to attend to. Emily, I'll catch up to you later.” Xavier says with a small smile, turning his back from the two girls.

Before he flies away, he stopped. Not bothering to look at his half sister, “Tell our dear father I said hi, okay? Farewell.” he says, not a single emotion in his voice. He quickly spreads his wings and flew off.

“Stars... I didn't expect to see my half sister today..” Xavier murmurs to himself as he flies back home.

Meanwhile, Charlie stood in disbelief next to Emily. Turning around to look at the Seraphim, “Was he really my...?” Charlie asked hesitantly and Emily nodded with a small sad smile, “Yes but it's not my story to tell.” Emily explained softly and Charlie nodded.

“Let us just continue showing you around, yeah?” Emily says softly and the princess of hell nodded.

Emily knows that Xavier's interest has been piqued. She knows he'll be there during the meeting now that he knows his half sister is going to be there.

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @cadelinhadochoso

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