Ghost, with a flyswatter in his mag pouch : âwot?â
Gaz and Soap: âWhat.. is that..?â whilst pointing to the fly swatter
Ghost, who just stares at Roach walking by: âNew ammo. Non lethal, quiet. Effective against bugs who THINK THEY CAN STEAL MY SLEEP AT NIGHT?!â whilst pulling out the swatter and going after a now verry much laughing Roach.
cw:afab!reader, references to depression/medication, soft!simon. 2k words
âcan we book in sex on friday evening?â your voice cuts through the silence of your shared lounge - almost hesitant.
not hesitant like you're expecting to be rejected, hesitant in the way someone is when they feel out of practice. when somewhere along the way they lost all their powers of seduction.
simon looks up over the page of the book he's reading - eyebrows furrowed before they relax, like he's trying to make sure you're not asking out of some misplaced sense of obligation.
âfriday works.â he confirms, âbe back late so you'll⊠have some time to yourself first. to do your⊠preparations.â
preparations.
the polite way to say you'll either watch or listen to or read some porn in the bath before he gets home to try and kick start your body and brain into getting onto the same page about wanting to fuck.
you snort softly at the phrasing before nodding, "okay. just let me know when you're on your way home."
quiet settles over the two of you again, peaceful, yours.
then simon clears his throat.
"the new meds seem to be helpin'." he says quietly. "yer smilin' more. s'nice."
you nod, once. "they are." you confirm quietly. there's a beat of silence and then, "⊠sorry they've broken my fanny."
simon just shakes his head, brown eyes meeting yours. "not broken. an' don't be sorry. rather have you 'appy than horny. only one of those is important to me. an' it's not the availability of yer cunt."
your ears get hot at the bluntness, but your chest tightens with relief at his words. but still. there's a twinge of guilt in your stomach, like you're somehow not keeping up your end of the bargain you made when you decided to be each other's.
"i know. you always say that. butâŠ"
"no buts." he cuts you off firmly, no room for argument. "no ifs. no fuckin' anythin'. i love you. i love yer smile and yer laugh. an' yeah, i love fuckin' you. but i'd rather you were smilin' at my bad fuckin' jokes again than drippin' all over the house."
Si â€ïž: 10 mins off
Si â€ïž: don't rush. take your time
Si â€ïž: gonna shower in the en suite. you'll take one whiff of me and absolutely change your mind
Si â€ïž: (which would be fine. no pressure. didn't think before i sent that.)
the messages overlay the porn playing on your phone screen one by one.
you don't pause the video right away - let yourself stay in the little bubble of horny you're trying to build. the bathwater is going lukewarm around you, but your skin feels warmer now from the small spark of anticipation that's beginning to grow in your stomach.
you can't help but feel a small twinge of grief that six months ago this same activity would have had you throwing yourself at simon - that six months ago you didn't even need to prepare to have sex with your husband. that it felt like the most natural thing in the world, not something you had to manufacture.
but then you remember his words "yer smilin' more. s'nice." and the grief fades, replaced with a pang of fondness so strong it almost hurts.
you let your eyes focus on the video again, letting the sounds of soft moans and the wet noise of skin on skin filter through your headphones; try and remember that the joy you see on the amateur couple's can be yours too.
you pause the video, typing back a quick message.
just getting out. haven't changed my mind. x
you dry off quickly, clean your teeth, slip into one of simon's old t-shirts; the black colour long faded to grey, band logo once printed on it lost to the passage of time. there's a hole in the hem and it's stretched out around the collar.
but it makes you feel safe, and that's what you need right now. not lace bodysuits and stockings. by the time you've padded into the bedroom you can hear the shower running - see that today's clothes didn't even make it to the washing basket in the bedroom, instead left in the one downstairs.
you wrinkle your nose - you know that means you're probably going to need to get the stain remover out later. but you appreciate that simon hasn't brought the smell of whatever it is up into your room. you light a few candles as you hear the shower switch off, pull the curtains and turn off the big light; leaving the room in a soft glow of the candles and bedside lamp.
little things you've learned make you feel more relaxed.
you're just settling on the edge of the bed as the en suite door opens - knees tucked up under your chin, heart beating a little faster than normal. simon appears, towel slung low on his hips, water still dripping down from his blonde hair and onto the scarred plain of his chest. his eyes find yours immediately, soft in the way they only ever are when he's looking at you.
"hi." you say softly, lips pricking up at the corners as you look at him.
fuck. it really does help the situation that he looks like that.
he crosses the room in two strides, one hand reaching to cup the back of your head as he leans down to kiss you - soft, slow; the kind of kiss that's a hello and isn't an expectation. his hand strokes up your bare thigh slowly; fingers pausing at the hem of your - his - t-shirt, stopping short of pushing it any higher. "hey dove," he replies softly. "missed this smile."
your smile. that's what he missed about this situation. that specific, soft, wanting smile that you only ever give him when you're about to get him in bed.
and it's that that has you pulling him down on top of you.
your t-shirt gets pulled off with careful hands; his towel lost somewhere to the floor. he ends up hovering over you, pressing kisses down your jaw, your throat, takes his time. his thumbs stroke an almost soothing pattern across your ribs as his lips trail lower - but when he reaches your stomach he pauses.
"tell me somethin'." he murmurs, "what were you watchin' in the bath?"
your face heats immediately, throat drying out as you stare down at him with an expression of absolute horror.
he just hooks your legs over his shoulders, presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, looks up at you expectantly.
"just⊠soft stuff." you manage to murmur back. "couple in their bed. they⊠they looked like they were enjoying it. not⊠faking it."
he presses a kiss higher up your thigh, then another, before his breath is ghosting over your core. his tongue traces a slow line from slit to clit; gentle, soft, curling through soft heat like he's not in any kind of rush.
your hips twitch.
simon hums against you, an almost approving noise; like he's proud you actually answered. "yeah? what were they doin'?" he flicks his tongue against you again - more targeted this time. you gasp slightly as he settles in, one arm slung across your hips, fingers tracing over skin. every motion he makes is purposeful - circling your clit, dropping down down to dip inside you, tracing every inch of you with his tongue in lazy strokes.
your fingers thread through his still damp hair, nails scratching over his scalp in the way you know he likes. "they were taking it slow." you breathe. "she was on her back like this. he kept⊠talking to her. telling her how good she felt."
"slow." simon repeats, "like this?" his lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently before soothing it with broader strokes. your fingers tighten in his hair enough that he groans - all enjoyment and no pain. "you liked hearin' how much he wanted 'er?"
"yes-" the word breaks into a low moan as he slides two fingers inside of you, curling them perfectly against the spot he knows so well; mouth still focussed on your clit. "fuck, siâŠ"
he doesn't speed up. just keeps a steady, slow rhythm - eyes flicking up to watch your face. he pulls away enough to murmur gently, "i want you dove - all the fuckin' time. everything you do is so fuckin' sexy i feel like i'm goin' insane." a soft kiss to your clit, "'m sorry if i stopped tellin' you." another kiss, "jus'⊠don't want you to ever feel like you 'ave to jus' cause i'd live inside you if i could."
your eyes burn, hands dropping to brush your thumbs over his cheekbones. "i know si. i promise."
he nods once, satisfied that you're not lying to make him feel better by the wet shine in your eyes. he drags the flat of his tongue over your clit again. "was she makin' the same little sounds you make? the ones that make me fuckin' melt?"
you nod, hips rolling under his mouth; the combination of his mouth and hands and the gentle questioning pulling you under. the porn in the bath feels distant now - a distant second to the real thing: simon riley between your legs, focused solely on you, coaxing your body to the edge with nothing but patience.
when you come its with a soft, shuddering cry - the same noise he loves so much - pleasure rolling through you in warm waves as simon works you through it. he waits until your fingers are limp in his hair before pulling back entirely, then kisses his way beck up your body until he's braced over you again, propped on one elbow so he doesn't squish you under his bulk.
"still good?" he murmurs. his cock is hot and hard against your thigh; twitching against you as he presses a kiss against your neck - but he doesn't push forward, doesn't press. just rests his forehead against yours.
âyeah,â you whisper, reaching between you to stroke him gently. âi want you, si. want this.â
he kisses you again, tasting like you, and lines himself up. he presses in -slow, perfect - eyes locked on yours the whole time. your fingers trace the scars on his jaw, eyes widening as he bottoms out; filling you in a way that's so achingly familiar now. he pulls back, pushes in again; soft, shallow rolls of his hips.
you brush your nose against his. "you don't have to be so careful with me, si."
"i want to." he replies simply. "been thinkin' about this since you brought it up. about makin' you feel good."
you, not him.
you thighs slide to wrap around his waist on the next thrust, taking hip deeper just by the nature of the position and he groans - a wrecked noise that carves itself into your memory.
"this alrigh'?" he murmurs against your neck, hips snapping just a little harder; thumb sliding into the space between your bodies to rub gentle patterns against your clit.
you nod, jaw going slack as you feel heat flood your stomach again. "yeah. s'perfect." you manage to murmur back.
he presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth, keeping up that same steady rhythm. "i love you. i love you when you're happy, an' i love you when you're sad. i love you when you're horny and climbin' me like a tree an' when all you want t' do is watch greys anatomy on repeat an' eat little moons. nothin', fuckin nothin', matters to me as much as you do."
you bury your face in his neck, cheeks hot, eyes burning, "i love you too."
your second orgasm is like sinking into warm water; nerves lighting up hot one by one, teeth sinking into the curve of his his shoulder with a whimper of his name. he follows immediately after, the pulse of your cunt around him dragging him over the edge, face buried in your hair as he breathes you in.
he doesn't pull out right away - just holds you, fingers stroking over sweat damp skin, pressing lazy kisses to your temple.
"still smilin' down there?" he murmurs softly.
you huff out a soft laugh, body and brain soft with satisfaction. "yeah, si. still smilin'."
"good." he kisses the top of your head. "that's all i need, dove."
Price whoâs been married to you for twenty years and been cheating for twenty five of them, swaggering home from the pub like heâs Britainâs last surviving sex symbol. Bragging to the lads that heâs still got it every time he picks up another young college kid with big doe eyes and fat tits who could have any pick of guy and choose him. Refusing to divorce you when the others bring it up because where else is he going to find a loyal wife who cooks, cleans, and somehow never notices the lipstick on his collar?
Vs
You, whoâs known the entire time. You, whoâs done more than know. You, whoâs been bribing, blackmailing, and occasionally outright paying women to sleep with him since the first girl. Not to boost his ego. God, no. Youâre simply keeping the old bastard happy and unsuspecting until retirement.
Then the house, the pension, and the good silver are yours.
And when Price really starts to piss you off you go further. You donât pay a girl to sleep with him, but you order a hitman to speed up the process đ
Edit: I wanna be clear, this post was originally posted from a point of absolute frustration and I have since realized that speech like that wonât have the effect I wanted it to have. Please forgive me. An AI addiction is a deeprooted issue that needs substantial help and not just me yelling into the abyss. If you suffer from AI addiction of any kind, or use it exsecively, donât be afraid to speak up please. As someone whoâs been there too, I want to help! There are accessible resources, that may not be professional, but still help. Feel free to reach out, letâs get over this together. For your own health, for the climate, for us <3
Original post (I have not changed it for authenticity reasons) :
Stop using AI?!?!
Dude. âHow is ChatGPT supposed to know that? He canât connect it to what I know!â is not a sentence I should have to hear in an educational setting?!?!?
You should not be spending two to three hours chatting to a fucking AI about a design you could do with your bare hands?
âIâm just gonna ask chat..â NO. NO, YOU WONâT. YOUâLL PICK UP A FUCKING BOOK AND READ. YOU WILL DO RESEARCH. YOU WILL GO THROUGH STUDIES, THROUGH REPORTS, IDFK JUST STOOOOPPPP USING AI.
You canât tell me that existing without AI is THAT hard. And thatâs coming from someone who used to be addicted to C.AI. (Clean by now thank god)
Gaz who keeps every broken hairtie and/or piece of string he can find on base from his team, because he feels at home knowing he has a piece of those he cares about with him during missions where he's not sure he'll make it back home.
Gaz who braids them into a bracelet and wears it like a second badge for the 141. He has the broken black string of one of Ghost's masks, a snapped blue cord from a training session Soap lead, the old brown tie from a cigar box that Price got frustrated trying to open and an old piece of red string Gaz himself recieved from a little girl he'd gotten out of harms way. He has it either in his pocket, or just under his watch.
It has seen bloodshed, it has seen weather that wore it down and frayed the edges, and many a bodily fluid exchanges over the years. And not once has he changed it.
Not in all his years of being on the team has he lost, broken, fixed or changed anything about it. It's a symbol of the team that he was welcomed into with pride and the hope of making the world a better place.
Gaz who has to pick sides. His team is broken. His best friend is dead, his mentor is on the run and his closest companion is on the run after him. He can't pick sides, they're supposed to doing this together. Despite how scewed their morals are and how this makes them clash sometimes, this is his family. Not by blood, but the shed of tears and sweat makes up for that.
The bracelet lays lost in Price's office. Snapped, thrown across the room in a mess of other things. The black is snapped, completely in half. The blue is stained with something dark and old. The red is singed, burnt black at the edges. And the brown is completely missing, the only reminder that it was there being the tufts of brown fluff clinging to the rest, leaving its impressions on the rest without being anywhere near.
umm not sure if i like this but omegaverse kinda-neglected reader! x tf141 (ghost focus), angst, good ending, gn!reader, SFW
Youâre a beta. That should come as a relief, many tell you every day they wish they were your designation instead. No heats, no ruts, not even stinking up a room when you got a bit too overwhelmed by an emotion.
Just in the middle: a nice calming scent, a decent paying jobâ never too high, a beta CEO wouldn't be able to control anythingâ and the lack of any crazy season that would get you all flustered. Your sense of smell was incredibly different to theirs, but you werent given much chances to complain considering all they went through in heats.
So naturally you were taught your life revolved around alphas and omegas, all the way from secondary school when you were sat next to the reactive Alphaâs to âtry and make them behave betterâ. In biology class your designation was skimmed over very quickly in favour of understanding how to react to their emotional changes and the like, and anything else you had to figure out for yourself.Â
Itâs not like getting out of school into the workforce was much better. Omegaâs rights had changed greatly in the past century, and no one would bat an eye at them being in most jobsâ so applying was even more impossible. Even when you did get into the workplace, it was like alphaâs would immediately stop listening when there was an omega in the room, or vice versa. Truthfully you were jealous of their natural pull to each other, like the relationships youâd read in books or see in swoon worthy movies.
âThereâs all sorts of jobsâ chefs, mechanics, cyber analysts, engineers, dont just have to be a soldier.â The army recruiter outside your local supermarket rambles, clearly trying to get at least one recruit today at the minimum. Otherwise heâd definitely get in big trouble. âAnd youâre a beta, so you can do both work with Omega and Alpha jobs! Youâll be fine!â
âWhat?â You look at him, that mention perking you up and he looks at you with glee. You were only listening in hopes heâd get you off his back, but that was certainly news to you.
âI bet youâre sick of fighting with even more people for jobs now, huh? In the military omegaâs and alphas are kept very seperate, even so, theyâre required to be on suppressants so everythingâs very easy.âÂ
âââââ
So, thatâs how you ended up here, bullied and forced into the shape of a soldier, something you still feel fake about even after countless deployments. Itâs quickly forgotten though when you have the thrill of finally finding your place in society.
Your first team was mostly alphas, a beta here and there, but it felt great to have them treat you equally, slapping a hand on your back and grinning at a job well done. The omega team wouldnt even bat an eye when you were assigned to them, just as welcoming. Truly the best of both worlds, you could be anything you wanted in this systemâ it was like it was built for you to thrive.
Then the taskforce got established, and by a stroke of luck, you got transferred on. âYou always run this early?â A hand lands on your shoulder, and you jump just to meet Sergeant Mactavishâ grin. After completing your demolitions course with flying colours, you soon got assigned under him. His hair is wet, mohawk flat for once, and you can only assume he just washed off. Still, his scent washes over you, easing your momentary shock and you nod, smiling. âYeah, isn't the water too cold this early?â
âItâs alright. Câmon, letâs go meet the others for breakfast.âÂ
You follow him, the faintest happy scent trailing off of you as you do so, and spiking just the miniscule amount when you sit down at the table.
âPlease please give me your bread roll, i love the jam they use for it.â Gaz pleads, clasping his hands together and you can't help but roll your eyes, letting him trade it for his fried egg. âI love you so much-â He mumbles, already taking a bite out of it that Price rolls his eyes as he takes a seat.Â
âAlmost thirty years old...â He mutters and you giggle, eyes moving to where Ghost comes with his tray, sitting next to Price.
âI saw you on the track, you looked tired.â He says, giving you a pointed look, and making your cheeks flush. Oh, right. The night prior youâd been suddenly awaken to help deal with a feral omega, forced to give up hours of sleep to soothe them to submission..Â
âJust didnât get the best sleep. Iâll feel alright after a coffee.â You give him a small shrug, eating more of your food. His eyes linger on you for a moment longer before nodding and carrying on.
 The sergeants were more than happy to include you in all their plans, barely batting an eye when your scent wasn't as strong as theirs or in combat training you couldn't hold as much of an intimidating presence. Nor did the Captain and the Lieutenant care either, always praising the fact you could slip by unnoticed, with no chance of wavering from the other two designations and such.Â
It felt almost like a pack.. and it was perfect. So perfect.
âJohnny, just spill it!â Gaz groans as the Scot dances around the subject for the tenth time that morning, making you all roll your eyes at the breakfast table.Â
âI got an omega!â The whole table falls silent, and then Gaz lets out a low whistle patting him on the back whilst the Captain nods approvingly.Â
âAnd you wont show us a photo?â Ghost chimes in, making Soap stumble to get his phone out, excited as he passes the phone around. A sweet, soft omega. Round cheeks, a bright smile, hanging off his arm like it was the key to her heart. A perfect match to him.
âShe looks perfect with you, good on you, son.â The Captain says, giving him a gruff smile and Gaz snickers at his father-like praise. Then they turn to you, as you sit in shock, fork gently clattering on the plate.
Your jaw hurts from how you physically have to force a wide enough smile, standing up and coming around to congratulate him properly. Itâs even worse when Kyle insists he should show more pictures and so you stand there between them, making fake oooâs and aaahâs in hopes it would hide the slightest change in your scent.
It changes everything.
âSoap, me and Gaz are going to the pub laterââ
âAh⊠cant, omega wants me to watch a movie with her. What about friday?â
âOhâ do you mind if we do some sparring today?â
âUh.. okay, sure. Just gotta finish up this text to my omega. Ye know sheâs getting stronger by the day! Iâve been helping her keep fit, yknow, to stay safe and all.â
âDo you want to go grab lunch?â
âOhâ sure. Feels like i havent seen you in forever.â
You smile wide when he finally agrees to hang out with you againâ after all, itâs not like he was acting like this with Kyle. So you both enter the mess, going to grab your plate.Â
âAhh.. the âmega loves chicken like this, makes hers a bit more seasoned though. Bloody good.â You smile weakly, trying to start your own conversation about work, and the mission youâll be going with him on.Â
âOh ye havent heard yet.â He falls quiet and you tilt your head in confusion, about to place the dish on your tray.
âHavent heard what? Was there a new brief?â
âYou should talk to the Captain.â
Confused, you do stop by his office later that evening, gently tapping on the door with your knuckles and announcing yourself. With a weaker scent, he couldnât tell you apart from the alphaâs across base with their scent blockers on, unlike the rest of the taskforce.
âCome in.â
âSoap said i havent heard something about the mission im going with him on soon? Did something change?â
âAh, right. You dont need to go anymore.â
You blink in surprise, suddenly really confused by all of this and you step forward a bit more, scent souring. Not that heâd pick up on it.
âHeâs a claimed alpha now, thereâs no need for a beta to mediate.â
You stand there, the contents of your stomach in your throat as you process his words. Mediate. You werent there because of skills.. the CO who encouraged you to take a demolition course didn't even think you were good at it either. They just needed a beta to mediate in a field lacking them.
âOh. Right.â
A month passes by of you watching Soap slip away from you, barely talking to you if not about his omega, never joining you on a morning run until youâre sure heâs forgotten about you altogether. At first you had chalked it up to him just being busier with mated life. After all, youâve witnessed the pull of an omega first hand many times, how it makes them change. Though, his relationship with the alphas didn't change in the slightest.
With his protective instincts he was drawn to the alphas more now, always hanging around Gaz and and Ghost when they weren't busy, beelining straight past you unintentionally. You cant really blame him either, no one remembers the betaâs faint scent.
It was Gaz next. One evening you were leaning against him on the couch, unable to hide your despair and luckily heâd been nice enough to let you sit there without explanation. It was nice, you thought that if you had no Soap, at least you had your other best friend. He always made you smile, and he was the reason you even got a slice of attention from Soap these days.
And then it came.Â
It started small, just hanging around Soap more often than not. Really you hadnt thought much of it, but it did feel rough when you sat also on the rec room couch just to watch them fully invested in something you could never join in on. You figured it was about Soapâs omega again, not something you particularly wanted to hear about.
Then it turned into turning down bar nights altogether. They would both cancel, Gaz excusing it with âplansâ whilst Soap was always honest. Sure you had the whole team, but being in the vicinity of four alphas in an alpha only bar was enough of a scent overload to give any beta a headache.Â
Then you saw his lockscreen on accident, just wanted to check the time really. It was unmistakably obvious though, the smiles, calmer than Johnnyâs one, but just as gorgeous and adorable. A real treat for the eyes.
âCongratulations.â You mumbled when he came back to the couch with his can, raising a brow at you.Â
âWhat..?â He knew, of course he did. You knew his lying look.
âGot yourself an omega, when are you gonna tell the others?âÂ
He seems embarrassed, quickly grabbing the phone off of you, cheeks burning. âHow did you see that?!âÂ
The next morning he announces it to the team and you join in with congratulating again, only too aware of the cycle that was soon to repeat. Only, it wasn't too bad with Gaz. You were grateful, so grateful when he still would spend a lunch or two with you, or even just talk to you.
âHey, we going on our usual grocery run this week?â You two were put together on the rota for stocking the rec room and so you both head out, riding shotgun in Gazâs car.Â
You both had a copy of the list, walking around the store together, until you eventually got them all. âOh! Just a second, need to grab some scent stuff.â In the small beta section they allowed, there were really good products to clear out scents from others thatâd stick to betas and linger around. After all, you had a keener sense of smell, so being around the taskforce meant it racked up pretty fast on your clothes and on your room.Â
Kyle was the first you confided in after you suddenly fainted once, at a bar, the scents too much for you to handle. Though you managed to quell it pretty quickly with these. Some you could just spray in your nose and goâ perfect for getting rid of the oncoming dizziness.
âYou know you dont have to get the fanciest things, just get the base ones. Itâs at the back of the store and theyâre expensive.â
You pause, he never questioned this before, not even the first time you had nervously told himâ afraid to be undermined.Â
âThereâs no base ones..â You say with a raised brow, but you cant bring yourself to be too rude to him. Even if his tone was almost sharp, scolding, as if you were being selfish. Right now it feels like youâre reduced to your designations, and thatâs it. Not humans, not friends, not even teammates. Alpha and beta. âThereâs only one brand that ever does it.â
âReally? And what about the cheap scent clearers? The ones you used to use before.â He gives you a firm look, challenging, and you swallow, unsure where this hostility came from.
â..They got pulled off the shelf, Kyle. Thousands of betaâs got chemical burnsâ i couldnt smell properly for a week.âÂ
He pauses for a split second, like heâll acknowledging the truth in your words and his wrongs, then just huffs, turning to scan where the empty checkout is. âFine. Get what you want then, but I'm going to pay. Iâll meet you at the car.â
When you return with the small plastic bag, he puts his hand out for the receipt so it can be handed to you at a price for expenses on the card. âI paid for it myself.â You mutter back, your scent tinging sour and in the close proximity it might be noticeable this time. He pauses, and then puts his hands on the wheel, choosing not to comment further.
âââââââââââ
The sergeants are on a mission, one you were supposed to be on, but now youâve been shoved into another with unclaimed alphaâs who need a bit of extra settling. Or rather someone lesser than them they can secretly believe theyâre higher than. It doesn't feel much different to secondary school now, and you find yourself with less will to argue about it.Â
Thankfully, Lieutenant Ghost is here with you. Heâs always been alrightâ not exactly friendly but not rude either. You were quite intimidated by his rank at first, convinced heâd be strict and unforgiving but heâs content if you get the work done.Â
âHandled that bomb in record time.â He comments beside you on the way back to base. There was another demolitions expert on the team but when news came up that there was another bomb they had not suspected, he immediately put his trust in you to disarm it.Â
âThanks for the chance, Lt.â You smile up at him and he nods, acknowledging your hard work. After all, you really did always put in more than your best. Even so, he cant help but notice you sink as soon as he shifts his attention to someone elsewhere, the conversation falling quiet. Heâd be blind to notice the gap between you and the sergeants, even if you were a beta and them having omegaâs shouldnt even bother you. Him and Price had to regularly reminds them to not walk around in clothes stinking of their partner.
âThe sergeants are back from their mission, could hit the pub tonight. Whole team can comeâ
You feel too bad to decline now, so you just nod. âOkay. Yeah.â
âââââ
The Alpha only pub is bustling and you offer to grab the third round just so you can escape the thick scents building around you. It doesnt help that youâre basically rationing your scent-refresher as of right now.
âOmegaâs doing good.â Soap responds to Priceâs questions.. At least youâll miss this mandatory conversation while you go. The bartender already knows you, greeting you with a welcoming smile as you start your order. Itâs all going on Priceâs card, so you take the opportunity to get a sundae instead of alcohol. He did owe you one after an explosive you caught right by his position. Besides, it was less than a tenner, and youâd savour it for life.
âHeatâs coming up though. Itâs only three days long usually, but should go smoothly. The store almost ran out of supplies too.â Soap sighs loudly, shaking his head and Kyle nods along, also probably having similar issues.Â
Youâre not exactly listening, carefully holding the plate of drinks so you don't accidentally spill it with the countless bodies in this crowd.
âIf they got rid of the beta section, theyâd have more to spend stocking on the omega stuff.â A soldier hanging around elbows Soap, but he doesnt disagree. If anything the buzz of alcohol just makes him want to finally speak his truth now.
âRight? I mean really? Beta period products? Beta scent enhancers? Like those would actually even work to attract an alpha let alone an omega. Those scent refreshers cannot be real either, i mean, youâd think theyâd want to smell us, ya know? Not like they get anything elseâ â
The table goes silent, Gaz obviously kicking Soap in the leg until he looks up and meets eyes with you. The other soldier doesnt bat an eye, raising a brow at you. âOh, your drinks are here. Can you order me two aswell?â
âIâm not a waiterâ You snap back, and the Captain stands quickly, taking the tray from your hands and placing it down on the table.
âThink your team wants you back over there.â He motions for the soldier to go with his eyes, and he quickly leaves. âThanks for grabbing them, iâll get yours. Come, sit.â He turns to you but you freeze, shaking your head, and turning back into the crowd. âIâll get it myself.â
âYou idiot!â Gaz puts his head in his hands at the very obvious tension from Soapâs words.Â
âI didn't know they was there!â He retorts, though also slumps into his seat a little more. âItâs true. What do you want me to say?â
âEnough.â Price sighs, pinching his brow, he shouldâve stopped the sergeants earlier but he hadnt known heâd be stupid enough to say that. Even if it was something that they were all thinking.
They take their drinks from the tray you brought, Gaz and Soap downing theirs immediately as if thatâll get rid of the dread hanging on their head. Price begins to sip his light chatter starting up again until Ghost suddenly speaks up.
âThey still haven't come back.â
Itâs been five whole minutes, and thereâs no sight of you to be seen anywhere.Â
â
Youâre sitting at the back entrance of the pub, empty at this time with the game roaring inside the pub. The alleyway it leads into is dirty, a few football decorations here and there, but mostly just black bin bags spilling out the large bins. There were two guys who had been staring you down for a while, like you were something that needed saving. The second one of them approached and caught your lack of omega scent, they immediately groaned and just turned away.Â
You just stick your spoon back in your sundae, not even lifting your head the entire time, just letting the cold sweetness try and keep you together.
Thereâs a small noise as someone sits down beside you, a rustle of clothing, and then the soft click of a lighter. You turn your head, slightly surprised to find Ghost there instead of a random drunk bloke hoping to score a sweet thing. He meets your eyes but neither of you say anything as you go back to eating your sundae.Â
âShouldâve got the other one.â
âWhat?âÂ
âThe bigger one.â He shrugs, the cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. âPrice told us to order whatever.â
âThis is the only one that can come in a takeaway cup.â You mumble and he doesn't say anything further, not even when you lick the spoon clean.
âWhy are you here?â You ask, unable to keep silent anymore. Itâs not like he actually came to see how you were, and youâre suddenly glad he didn't come ten minutes earlier when you were on the verge of bawling your eyes out.Â
âSâposed to be a team night.â
âMaybe for the Alphas.â You grumble and he cant help but hum alongside you, not arguing with you on that fact.
âCant stand the smell, can ya? Got the takeaway cup cause you knew youâd need to go regardless.â Of course he figured it out immediately, though youâd think itâs impossible to read you given how some people treat you.
âYou mad iâm not fawning over your scent?â You scoff and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, making sure no chocolate sauce lingersâ especially with how heâs watching you right now.
âJohnny is a stupid drunk, âlright?.â He mutters, a bit of bitterness in his tone that always lingers, but itâs not directly at you. âPriceâll convince you itâs just his instincts and all, looking after the omega.â
You look over at him and give him a deadpan look, the most honest youâve ever been with the man. Usually youâre pretty agreeable, in fact the only time youâve had a conflicts was when they got injured. Turns out youâre the only voice of reason whenever that happened, as the smell of the blood sent the rest of them into a spiral of worry.
And well, after that, he can't really blame you for being like this.
âIâm going.â You mutter, standing up and throwing the plastic cup in the bin before wiping your hands on your jeans.Â
To your surprise, he doesnt hesitate to follow you as you round to the front, heading to the little bus stop. Itâs not the first time youâve left early, but it is the first time someoneâs made sure youâre alright by the end of the night.Â
ââââââââ
Soap only makes a quick apology which youâre forced to just accept,, because what else can you really do? Mess up a whole team because of one thing he said which wasnt that far from the truth?
As predicted, Price did try and tell you it was due to protective instincts, wanting the best for his omega. Right, the same instincts that made him leave you like you were dirt on his shoe.Â
Besides, life was getting busier for you as you now got passed between two teams. Either working with Ghost and Price or a different group of alphas. Passed around like a damn stress toy in your opinion.Â
âSo weâre going to the one in the highstreet?â Gaz and Soap are chatting on the couch, not that youâre listening, just getting your things out the cupboard to make yourself a hot drink.Â
âMy âmega loves it, craves the food there all the time. Sheâs gonna love meeting yours.â
Whatever, it wasnt the first time theyâve discussed plans in front of others. Wouldn't be the last.
âIâll text the Captain and Ghost.â Soap adds, humming as he starts tapping away at his phone, opening their group chat you assume. One that youâre clearly not on, given that they dont invite you.
âYou think heâll even come?âÂ
âHeâs not that antisocial.â
âYeah but heâs only one without an omega dumbass.â
The container you're holding clatters against the table and they both back to stare at you with the exact same wide eyed look youâre giving them. If heâs the only one then Price..
You walk out like nothing happened, even if you can feel the tears start to burn your eyes. It was all going so well, you were all happy togetherâ werent you? So why?
The cycle repeats for the third time. Youâre taken off another team, not deemed useful enough anymore. You congratulate Price when you next see him, and he doesn't say more than a thank you. Somehow it hurts more that he didn't purposefully tell youâ he just forgot, like everyone else did.
You stopped coming by the rec room the last time the sergeants had a movie night without you. The texts between them and you ran dry, and after skipping one breakfast, you just never came back again. Thatâs just how it was now, and they didn't even reach out once. In fact, all of the last messages were from you. An unanswered question, a conversation cut short, or a text that just never even got opened.Â
Except for Ghost. He still spoke to youâ well, as much as heâs known to anyway. A hello in passing, a chat between sets in the gym, maybe when youâre queuing for food. As much as you wanted to take the opening, you just couldnt, too terrified to. After all, it was only a matter of time until Ghost left you aswell. You should know that you should savour every last moment, cling onto it tight, but you just can't. Itâs not like you two were ever the closest anyway.
ââââââ-
Youâve been moved to an omega team this time. Itâs not the first time youâve worked with one, but usually they can balance each other out easier since they aren't as explosive as Alphas. It also means this is a mission you can't slip up on from the months of work theyâve put into this.
They welcome you immediately, and you grasp the ropes of it all fairly quickly, until itâs finally the day. The prisoners are right where you expected them, and just as told, the one in the middle has explosives strapped all over.
They evacuate the rest out whilst you kneel down before the explosives, watching the wires and where they turn and twist intently whilst the person tries their best not to squirm too hard. Even with your best efforts, nothing seems to match what you know but you frown as you notice the wire reaching towards the chair theyâre bound to. Down to the floor.. a weak floorboard. The weight of the chair.. essentially a mine.
One hostage on that chairâ you move her off and everyone dies. What do you even do?Â
âDo not stand up at any point, okay? Iâm going to get you out, but you have to trust me.â Shrugging all the gear off, you cut the straps that locks the person to the chair.
You hand her your gear carefully and step back, just enough to reach the doorway. Thereâs no telling how large this bomb is, but you can assume it cant be enough to seriously damage the ship youâre on.Â
âOkay, you need to shuffle forward just slightly and place the gear behind you, okay? Then, when youâre ready, cover your head with your hands and run towards me.â The woman trembles, doing as you told and the weight of the gear seems to be a good enough trade off for the mine to not set off.Â
After that, she bolts, and you pull her through the doorway and as far away as possible, shielding her as the shockwaves rattles through the ship.
âââââââ
Ghost hadnt expected to see his phone buzz at this time, by the infirmary no less. But when they relayed what happened, he had made his way there immediately. You had just come out of surgery, a high enough dose of anaesthesia in you that you just werent acting right. He intended to wait outside until you stabilised, that is until the nurse rushes out suddenly.
âWould you mind coming in, sir? We need someone to restrain them.â
He steps inside to see you squirming against another nurse, slurring and trying to escape your bed, clearly panicked.Â
âStop that, youâre going to hurt yourself more.â He reaches for your flailing wrists, forcing the nurses out the way as they stand at the back and watch you get manhandled by the alpha.Â
Something in his gut feels uncomfortable with the stains of red across the bandages across your body, burns peeking out of some. So he carefully restrains your wrists against each other, holding them firmly.
âL-lieutenant?â You stammer out, dazed eyes searching for him intently until you manage to focus on his mask. Finally you stop freaking out for a moment. He turns but the nurses are already gone, probably called to another patientâ the operation you were on had quite a few injuries for different reasons.
âYeah, itâs me. Yâjust came out of surgery, youâre okay now, alright?â He carefully lets go of your hands, helping you reposition yourself after you had tried to squirm off the bed. âIâll grab the nurse, then we can see when we can get yâoutta here.â
The nurse?
You blink at him, looking around at your surroundings, the sterile smell of the place attacking your nose. Simon was an alpha.. and the nurses, well specifically in this wing.. your eyes glance to the sign outside the door, the familiar writing.
âNo- no you cant!â You barely manage to grasp his arm as he pulls away and he looks at you in confusion. The beeping in the room starts getting even louder than before, almost incessant and you feel like your chest is going to explode.
âYour heart rate is rising, sarge. You need helpââ
âLieutenantâ no, please-â You whine pathetically as he pulls away from you, leaving him stunned until he reluctantly steps closer again before you throw yourself entirely out of the bed to reach him.
âI wont let âem hurt you, promise.â He can only assume you must be scared of needles or something, a fear of medical care surely. He never knew that about you, and it spikes something in his chest, a cog in his head. The fear radiating off of you is palpable, and he can smell the faintest change of your scent in the air.Â
âNo- no! The nurseâ sheâs an o-omega, you cantââ You choke out, head getting dizzy from all the sudden movement as you desperately clutch his sleeve. It forces him to stay right there, not the grip on his sleeve but the desperation in your eyes.
âSargeâ iâm not gonna act like a wimp in rut from talking to an omega.â He huffs but he knows youâre out of it. It must be the anaesthetic getting to your head, making you say all these silly things.
âYouâre going to leave me- youâre going toââ A sob escapes you as grip loosens on him and he freezes, watching you curl into yourself. Your forehead gently hits his arm, tears wetting his sleeve.
âIâm right here.â He says, voice quieter and it makes him breathe relief when the beeping settles down to a steadier rate, even if it is still high and you look even worse like thisâ so lost and terrified.
âYou are..â You sniffle, pressing your nose further against his arm. ât-the omega nurse- she- sheâll come and youâll leave with her. Youâll leave me- a-and never speak to me again, please- lieutenant please.â Your hands tighten and he swallows sharply, letting your words sink in.
It was never about envy, not even the way you stared at them whenever they spoke about omegas. It was pure fear. And this feeling in his chest, it was tightening with each soft sniffle from you, instincts flaring. Heâs never felt like this in his life, infact he was convinced he never would. But he just cant stand the sight of you like thisâ the bloodstained clothes, the fear in every small movement, your vulnerability.Â
He steps forward without thinking about it, his free arm gently prying you off of him until you fall back against the pillows. âNot leaving you for some random omega, you silly beta.â He scolds, picking you up off the bed until your head rests on his shoulder, sniffling into his shirt.
âGonna take you where you belong. Gotta tell me if i hurt you, though.â Warmth spreads through him now that he has you against him like this. It clicks something in his brain he didn't know was waiting for a stimulant.
All that leaves your lips are the sobs that keep coming, staining his shirt, but finally settling now the dizziness has settled. âDont go.. donât, please, you cant..âÂ
Youâre right, he cant keep you around these omegas and all of this. No, he needs you to be healing properly around things you likeâ you want. He needs to look after his beta.
He grabs your duffel off the chair where itâs left, checking the corridor twice before marching through the quiet corridors towards the barracks.Â
âNonononono thatâs wrong-â A swift swat to Rylands hand makes the teacher jump back in surprise.. His students usually didnât do that? But Hiro Himada.. Well that student wasnât usual either.
âOkay then.. wh-whatâs wrong-?â Mr. Grace asks.. Slightly flabbergasted, but also overly amused.. Having a student this smart and eager was pleasing for the teacher. Because as much as he taught Hiro? Hiro taught him just as much.
âWe gotta file the Xenonite down, the edges are too sharp. If I build another armor suit for Baymax, and donât file the edges down, Baymax could get hurt.â
Hiro protests.. And with a small laugh, Mr. Grace drops his chin to his chest, and nodds slowly. âRight.. Right. Heâs- Heâs not Rocky, yea I get it.â
And just on cue, the little Rock tumbles into the workshop. A soft walesong accompanied by the monotone voice modulator rings out. âWho is not Rocky, Question.â
The little rock-like arms flail about, as Hiro grins and holds out the Xenonite to Rocky. âBaymax. Baymax is a bit more fragile than you, the xenonite would hurt him if I donât file it down.â
Hiro attempts to explain, but Rocky stomps his feet in concern. âThen Baymax is faulty design, statement.â
Mr. Grace winces a bit, but before he can jump in Hiro already countered with an equally snarky response. The worry quickly dies down into hesitant amusement. Both Rocky and Hiro were stubborn and stupidly smart.. So it was bound to happen that theyâd bud heads. But hey. The bickering was better than the silence during the fire or the Telameba incident..
EHEHEHEHEHE IDK WHAT THIS IS BUT I WANTED TO WRITE IT
Johnny beeing held hostage by Markarov whilst him and the 141 have a standoff, Markarov demanding the 141 lower their weapons and Price barks the command. Gaz and Priceâs weapons lower but Ghost stands tall, weapon locked and loaded aimed directly at Markarovs head.
Price hits his shoulder, claws at his hand to get him to lower the gun but Ghost wonât budge, wonât even look at him. His eyes are on Soap and Soap only.
So Soap looks him dead in the eyes and gives a slow nodd, to which Simon dropps the weapon immediately and lifts both hands in surrender.
Roach, who attached a little flag to his antenas during pride month bcs he knows the entire team is gay or some sort of not cis/straight, but are too traumatized/emotionaly stunted/weird about it so the little critter just runs around with the flags on his antenas like a walking intervention. He just wants them all to accept themselves.
regularly scheduled reminder that I hate AI, I don't consent to any of my art being used for AI whether that's for chatbots or generative AI, I've never used ChatGPT or Claude or Gemini or Grok or whatever the fuck in my life and never will and I do think that makes me a better person than people who do. also if you're a "fan" of mine and willingly use AI, I think you're actively making the choice to hand over all brain function to companies owned by billionaires who hate you and humanity, which makes you pathetic and embarrassing.
ghost doesn't beg. except, the moment he sees a gun pointed at roach, and the split second it takes his brain to register the bullet fired, lodged in gary's chest, all he wants to do is sob out, pleading for this to be a nightmare. his reflexes's slow, useless against suffering the same fate - but it doesn't matter. all that matters is roach, and his fearful eyes staring into his, the pain unbearable. he knows this is the end, and as much as he's always wanted his own death to come meet him sooner, rather than later, it's just his fucking luck that even in his end, he has to drag his loved ones to hell with him. he remembers, why he doesn't beg.
