#alpha kyle garrick
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 15: Bonnie
Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7456 words
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst
A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.
Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.
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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise.
You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes.
“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom.
You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine.
You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past.
Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface.
Even he can’t protect you from this.
You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing.
John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem.
You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry.
You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one.
Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep.
You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness.
You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned.
You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?”
John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.”
You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief.
“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.”
Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades.
“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.”
You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.”
“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.”
You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake.
You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it.
John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what.
You might never get to know.
It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep.
Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent.
“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you.
He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed.
“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons.
“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.”
You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any.
“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.”
You can only imagine how that went.
Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously.
“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door.
“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own.
“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.”
He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between.
“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..”
“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you.
You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do.
He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does.
He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”
“You're tired.”
You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright.
You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”
“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt.
Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm.
You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again?
“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.
Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”
“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”
Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response.
“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say.
“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”
Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”
He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”
“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”
“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”
You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger.
John trusts him, so you should be able to as well.
Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask.
Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own.
He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago.
“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.”
He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position.
“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.”
A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over.
“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.”
You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run.
“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him.
You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious.
“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.”
You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing?
You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good.
Is violence and death really the path to the greater good?
“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil.
You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.”
He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head.
He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.
His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady.
“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.”
He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired.
“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.”
It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch.
You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too.
All he's waiting on is you saying the word.
He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something.
The thought makes you want to cry.
“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump.
You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?”
“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book.
You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being.
“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face.
The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal.
You need to rectify this, and fast.
You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety.
Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory.
“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”
You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.”
He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less.
“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door.
You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.
“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?”
Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.”
Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back.
“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.”
You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line.
Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news.
“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?”
“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you.
“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes.
“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.”
He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.”
Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin.
“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers.
“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.”
Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours.
“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.”
You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver.
Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it.
“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip.
“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look.
The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room.
He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly.
“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.
“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”
“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”
“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”
Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.”
“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”
You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”
“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you.
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him.
“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.
He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal.
Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved.
Well, you suppose he is.
He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much.
It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you.
Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh.
“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.
You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg.
“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt.
He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric.
You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him.
“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?”
You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?”
He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.”
He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you.
You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely.
“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread.
You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you.
“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face.
“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans.
You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets.
“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.”
You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation.
“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you.
Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips.
He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair.
“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage.
“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you.
The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position.
“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk.
He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers.
His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth.
You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin.
“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.
“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock.
“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday.
“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.”
Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs.
“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand.
Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm.
“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips.
You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other.
You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length.
“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his.
“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.”
You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position.
Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge.
Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck.
“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat.
You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!”
“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life.
You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat.
“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.”
He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again.
You’re in for a long night.
Taglist:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph
#call of duty#call of duty fic#x reader#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#a/b/o#omegaverse#john price x reader#captain price x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle garrick x reader#gax x reader
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141 is filled with alphas, not a single omega in sight. there are a few betas, but they're either low-ranking or transfers that were never going to last.
like you! (beta!reader) who works at reception and takes calls, scans badges and is the first point of contact for the task force.
none of them know your name, none of them even speak to you - maybe price, when you transfer a call to him, he'll mumble a thank you. or even laswell, when you bring her a coffee.
it's nothing, really, you don't mind.
only, one day, a totally normal friday, you've done the exact same style in your hair you always have, and you're wearing more clothes than you were yesterday.
price wants a coffee, sure- you make it, just the way he likes, and head towards his office. you knock, and wait a few seconds until you hear 'come in.'
the office is silent, it usually is - but this time there's more than just price inside.
they're finishing up just as you enter, soap and gaz sitting in front of the desk whilst ghost leant against the back wall.
"my apologies, captain." your voice isn't exactly quiet - why should it be, you've done nothing wrong, but its still respectful. price just nods as you place the cup down on his desk.
"thanks, that's all." he dismisses everyone in the room, and you wait for the boys to file out before you do, soap and gaz both giving you a cheeky smile.
ghost is the one to hold open the door, standing just adjacent to the doorway with his arm sprawled against it. its a heavy door, and you swallow as you pass him.
"thank you," you all but mumble out as you rush past him - straight into the break room.
you can't help but rant about the situation to your roommate whilst you're packing up your things, your phone tucked between your jaw and shoulder.
"i mean- he held the door open for me and i couldn't even look him in the eye to say thank you!" you stress, throwing your bag into your passenger seat before leaning back against your car. "god, all i wan't right now is a plate of sushi and some boba."
"too bad its pizza night, dweeb."
"thats not fair! i could loose my job, i should be allowed to eat my comfort food when im stressed out."
you stress about it over the whole weekend, and when you return back to work on monday you try to act as casual as possible. of course, you don't see ghost - price doesn't order a coffee, and youre break time comes around quicker than you expected.
you had brought- oh, theres- your favourite sushi, and a boba drink sitting where your food was supposed to be. in somewhat messy hand writing, on a small piece of paper, theres your name.
signed ' s. riley. '
i am a sucker for sweet lil moments like this !!
in my head i think that simon would like a beta, or an alpha, but in this lil snippet (which is CERTAINLY getting turned into a fic) he's big and broad and gets worried when he's with alphas because they can't think straight, he tells them what to do and he does it.
but you? you dont react to his scent or chase him down to get him to court you - so, of fource, he courts you. <3
#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#shmalk ! ᧔♡᧓#task force 141#simon ghost riley#john price#simon riley x reader#alpha!simon riley x beta!reader#beta!reader#alpha!simon riley#alpha!ghost#alpha!ghost x beta!reader
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alpha!gaz who’s your childhood best friend, the two of you dancing between the line of courting and just friends
alpha!gaz who scents you before the two of you go out for a night, under the impression that he’s doing it to keep you safe and to make sure you don’t get any unwanted attention
alpha!gaz who holds you close before he leaves for deployment, scents you deeply to make sure you still smell like him before he leaves
alpha!gaz who purrs appreciatively when he gets a care package from you while deployed and sees you put in a pillowcase for that smells like you
alpha!gaz who sends you letters every week and vice versa
alpha!gaz who talks about his sweet omega waiting for him at home to tf141
alpha!gaz who calls you one night, drunk off his ass, whining about missing you like a pup
“mm, ‘m jus’ miss you darlin’ my pretty omega, miss you so much. wanna scent you, wanna smell like you too. mm you’re my omega, my pretty one hm?”
alpha!gaz who pretends he didn’t basically confess to you and is grateful you don’t bring it up (even if you’re dying to bring it up, want to know if he meant it)
alpha!gaz who comes back home to you and you’re slightly distant and he won’t have that. he corners you, asking you what happened and what’s wrong.
“did someone hurt you love? someone do something to you?” he asks as he holds your face in his hands.
you try to pull away, try to keep some distance between you two because gaz always read you so easily, always knew when something was wrong.
“love?”
alpha!gaz who watches as tears gather in your eyes as you try pushing him away, overwhelmed by your own feelings. you snap at him and tell him you don’t appreciate being led on, that it isn’t funny anymore, that it was never funny.
alpha!gaz who scrambles for a way to tell you that he’s into you, so deeply in love with you.
alpha!gaz who watches you calm down and look at him.
alpha!gaz who takes you fully into his arms, scenting you calling you his omega.
“always called you mine,” he mumbles against your neck. “my pretty omega, all mine.”
you stay there in his arms as he continues to scent you, your eyes fluttering close at the contact.
“lemme court you properly yeah?” he whisperers. “wanna show you i can be a good alpha, good for you.”
alpha!gaz who brings you flowers everyday and handmade gifts once a week
alpha!gaz who gives you his clothes more freely now that he’s courting you, wanting you to always smell like him
alpha!gaz who scents you every time now, wanting everyone to know you have an alpha
alpha!gaz who likes smelling like you too, lets you scent him and smiles appreciatively when he goes on with his day smelling like his sweet omega
just alpha!gaz :p
#i love abo sm i cant#the softness of it makes me insane#had to write my bf sorry (lies)#fanfiction#kyle garrick#x male reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x male reader#gaz x reader#gaz x y/n#kyle garrick x male reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick x y/n#alpha beta omega#abo#cod x reader#cod mw gaz#cod mw2#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#gaz mw2#gaz cod#gaz my beloved#omegaverse#omega reader
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Omega!Gaz being scented by his Alphas?
They were on the bed, cuddling and talking about the recent mission. He had returned not too long ago, and the alphas were too keen on not letting him go once he landed.
Price was at his neck, scenting him to no end. The first time, he had growled and complained about how much he reeked of other alphas. Made sure to mention that the only alphas he is to reek of, is them. Very territorial.
Soap was next. Scenting him but leaving nibbles along the way. He then proceeded to mark him so others wouldn't dare to get closer to what belongs to them. He was such a possessive and territorial alpha.
Ghost was last. But he was the most sweetest. He left gentle kisses and licks, which he preened to. It felt so sweet and soothing that he started purring.
Upon hearing that, the alphas smiled and rumbled in response. They were happy to have brought some calmness and sanity to their omega. And, after some time, Gaz fell asleep surrounded by his alphas.
#kyle gaz garrick#john price#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#pricegaz#soapgaz#ghostgaz#call of duty#cod#omegaverse#omega gaz#alpha price#alpha soap#alpha ghost#fluff#cute fluff?#gaz x everyone#ali writes
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General A/B/O COD MWII Headcanons
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Alpha.
NOT A FAN OF THROWING HIS SCENT AROUND
Actually quite respectful about it??
Part of it has to do with stealth because he needs that control and it plays into his Ghost persona by remaining undetected.
The other part has to do with his father… I think his dad would’ve used his scent to intimidate and would not hesitate to use alpha influence
On that note he will also not use alpha influence because of this. And also why use it when he can kill and intimidate people without it
His whole body is covered which helps keep his scent in and his mask covers his scent gland so it’s not out in the opening and vulnerable.
Let’s be real his dad probably threatened to take out his scent gland so no one could give him a mating bite 💀
Still has it though and would definitely offer his neck first if he were to ever find a mate
I just KNOW he smells good
Really loves it if you willingly choose to wear his scent around but will never force it on you
John “Soap” Mactavish
Maybe a hot take but also alpha. (Possible omega headcanons maybe later?)
Man is smelled down the hall and it’s distracting but absolutely never overwhelming
He’d probably be obsessed with shoving his nose into the crook of his mate’s neck.
Will absolutely wear his mates’ clothes he don’t give a fuck if it doesn’t fit 💀
Bites not just on the neck.
No amount of covering up is gonna save you. He wants to show you off
He will ask for bites too and then go shirtless the next day
Maybe even booty shorts
MANZ will be like “it’s hot” when asked why and it could be snowing outside
John Price
Honestly either alpha or beta
Like alpha feels right because he’s pack leader basically but also beta would make sense practically in a military sense
Either way let’s say alpha and he just covers his scent with cigar smell
He’s probably the most likely to take meds because he takes his job so seriously and wants 0 possible things to go wrong like a rut during a mission
most likely one to ask his mate to wear his clothes really early on with no shame AND with a pretty please
He doesn’t have a lot of free time so it’s both for his benefit and yours to have that reminder of him with you
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Beta.
Maybe I’ll do alpha headcanons for him who knows
But definitely the most level headed out of these 4
Man gets shit on so bad for not having to suffer through a rut
Like Soap, will very much enjoy smelling his mate and will absolutely be so proud of his mate comments on his scent
It may not be as strong as an alpha or omega but he’s putting it in a perfume bottle, giving them his clothes, EVERYTHING
He’d be walking in the common area with his chest pushed out
Anyways I guess I’ll be opening my inbox for requests! I love ABO and saw no content for it an COD so I did it myself. Maybe I’ll write more?
#ghost x reader#ghost#simon riley imagine#simon riley#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#cod mw x reader#john price#captain price#kyle garrick#kyle gaz garrick#alpha ghost#alpha!ghost#alpha!soap#soap mactavish#john mactavish#abo au#abo mw2#abo cod#mw2 headcanons
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Ok, so I’ve been reading a bunch of COD Men stories and some of the ones that are a/b/o dynamics are *chefs kiss* but the thing I can’t get out of my head is
✨Nests✨
Like just imagining in real life all the pillows and blankets it’s gotta be so dang comfy and then to add a hoodie your S/O has been wearing AHHHH
I’d be rolling around giggling and rolling myself into a burrito
#omegaverse cod#alpha könig#alpha price#alpha simon riley#alpha ghost#task force 141#141 x reader#john price#simon riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick#soap x reader
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so, I have a few things to say
141 power rangers somehow manifested in my brain without any remorse, mainly because I was pissed that two of the original zord powers/suits werent dinosaurs and were mammals.
so now we got Ghost(Ankylosaurus), Laswell(Pterodactyl), Price(T-rex), Soap(Triceratops) and Gaz(Stegosaurus). I also switched the Pterodactyl colours because as much as I love pink, it is a little too on the nose with the whole stereotypical gender colours and also I dont think Laswell would appreciate that.
Yeah anyways so the way that rangers become rangers is they have to die so that the government cant have any identification ties to the current rangers.
If they die with the core values that rangers follow there is a chance for them to be ressurected as a ranger(if there is a spot open on the roster, and its not 50/50, more like 13/87, it can take a good 20-30 years for the roster to be full) where they get their body modified to endure the battles and become retroactively immortal(NOT PERMANENT, they can die from really severe injuries, but then they get ressurected again, but are put out of commission for like a good week(they can also die on the spot when they retire their abilities(this is for comedic purposes))
The suits have a catalyst item(usually an item that was on their person when they die) that the rangers must wear if they want their suits, which they can morph into the three different options on command, usually verbal, with Ghost as the exception(for plot reasons(trust me))
The very patterned suits are what they wear if they are doing like, public service, since the rangers do some o that in the series, with the whole like, entertaining the idea of interviews and putting on little shows for kids.
Those suits arent meant for battle because I keep twitching while watching any fight scenes because the suit fabrics look so thin. So in this the suits are more to appeal to the public eye more if they appear because they are percieved as more friendly and approachable.
And then there are the battle suits(which Ghost is wearing in the second drawing), those are fully armoured but still flexible for the battlefield. There are two versions, day camo(havent drawn yet) and night camo.
oh yeah and these guys are shapeshifters, with or without the catalyst they can morph, contrary to expectations, small AND large forms are the hardest to morph into alone.
They can also morph into a conglomerate and manage the form coodependantly while doing things independently so that less time is wasted on just one persons reaction time hindering an attack(This is my version of the Zords in this AU)
anyways that is my yap fest over.
#very large rant#this was fueled entirely by my autism#and my ass#Im more excited about Alpha 5 being in this than Soap#I love crossbreeding my interests instead of linebreeding them#keeps them healthy#was gonna have a joke about incest in there but how the hell would interest incest work#heh. intercest.#rambling#consciousart#pixel art#call of duty#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#kate laswell#mighty morphin power rangers#power rangers#alpha 5#crossover
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The Mechanics of Hope
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Alex Keller
Single Parent Omega Gaz x Mechanic Alpha Alex Keller
It's always been Gaz and his daughter, Genevieve. Ever since she was born and her father had died in an accident, it'd been just them against the world. Well, them and four pseudo parents that Gaz had picked up. And two best friends.
Either way, he's not really interested in trying to expand what he has. He doesn't really date around, because he doesn't trust new alphas around his daughter.
Of course, one has become rather persistent in trying to court him. But, he doesn't know about Genevieve, and Kyle is positive he's not going to stick around once he finds out.
Warnings: ABO, talks of death, fem leaning terms for omegas
Gaz took a deep breath, holding his head for a moment and trying to push down the migraine that was building. He didn’t have time to see the doctor, again, and he knew it was just because he was pushing himself and his lungs were having trouble filling completely with air. He didn’t want to deal with it, though.
So, he just took a breath. “Genevieve Garrick!” He called, planting his hands on his hips and then going to her room, seeing her very quickly shove a tablet under her pillow. The tablet that “Grandpa Price” had gotten her for her birthday. She was only 7, she didn’t need a tablet…
He’d been ignored on this, though. Shaking his head, he went over and held out his hand. “Come on, just let me have it so it can charge at least.” He softened his tone. It had helped her… Laswell had installed a few speech apps on it, which was helping her communicate, so he supposed he couldn’t be too angry. Even still, it would have been nice to be backed up on something.
She seemed to pout as she gave him the tablet and then he shook his head, hoisting her up and putting her on his hip, ignoring how badly his back ached from her weight, though she was average weight for a seven year old. “Come on, school time.” He said, putting the tablet onto the wireless charging port that Price had so generously bought for it.
She didn’t protest like she normally did, which Gaz was grateful for. Though, he did suspect it had something to do with the Halloween Party that was happening that day. He sat down with her in his lap and helped her get the sparkly black socks she had begged for for her spider costume on.
“Grandpa Price is going to pick you up from school.” He informed her as he made her stand so he could get the hoodie he’d handsewn extra arms onto. They rose as she moved her arms and he’d also handmade her little sunglasses with extra eyes on them. “Are you okay with that?”
A grin spread across her face and she immediately nodded. “Ice cream?” She asked.
Gaz laughed. “I’m sure if you ask him, he’ll get you some. He mentioned ordering pizza on the phone.” A little sparkle came in her eyes, which were green, the only trait she didn’t seem to get from Gaz. “Come on, Mum’s got some errands to run, love.”
Gen put her arms up in the air and he gladly picked her up again, dreading the day she’d be too big for him to do that, though it seemed to approach faster and faster.
He grabbed her bag on the way out to the car and helped her into her carseat, though she could already buckle herself. He knew she would soon be out of one, but it was peace of mind until she was. He put the radio on to her favorite station and then started to drive, his mind wandering as it always did.
Gaz had been a teen mom, now only 22. And it had always been him and Genevieve. He wasn’t groomed by her father, no, in fact he’d been a very good partner, a fantastic alpha. Had been ready to step up and be her father, despite hardly being a year older than Gaz. Had even dropped out to get a good job and his family had given them a house.
But… death happens when you least expect it. He’d had a motorcycle and he’d actually been driving to sell it, since they’d need a better car. He was hit by a semi truck on the way there, died instantly.
The worst part was that it had happened while Gaz was in labor. His water had broke right after his boyfriend had left and he hadn’t wanted to distract him by calling him so he’d had his boyfriend’s mom take him. Got the call right after she was born.
Well, his in-laws support had only lasted as long as their son was alive, because now… they wanted nothing to do with Gaz or his daughter. They’d let him keep the house, which he still owned, but that was it save for enough money to put a down payment on a shitty car as long as he left silently.
Whatever, he hadn’t needed them, anyway. However, the car was a piece of shit. When Gen was only around 3 years old, it’d started to regularly break down and Gaz had had to start taking it to a mechanic. Well, only one hadn’t tried to scam him or overprice him since he was an omega, and that was Price’s shop.
Hell, Gaz had brought the car in to Price had been when Gen was severely overstimulated from the rattle of the engine, so she’d been crying and poor Gaz had been close to tears himself, trying hard to soothe her without breaking down.
Price had refused payment and had even fixed several other issues. One of these included calming Gen down, since one of his mechanics, another omega named Soap, who was actually only 17 at the time, had made silly antics which had had Gen, and maybe even Gaz, giggling softly.
It’d been a silly sight, Soap with his jumpsuit around his waist, doing a dramatic reenactment of a scene from Outlander, a romance show Gaz absolutely hated, but apparently Soap adored. He’d belted out lines, though, and both had clapped once he was done, as Price had came and told Gaz his car was fixed up. “Just come to me, for now.” Price had told him. “Don’t worry about money, just bring ‘er to me.”
Gaz couldn’t afford to insist to pay, so he’d instead broke down sobbing and thanking Price, who had seemed a little uncomfortable. The next time his car had broke down, he’d again gone to him, and Kate Laswell was there. She was an alpha, married to a sweet omega named Diane, and she invited Gaz and Gen to dinner.
From there, all three, and then later Price’s partner, an alpha named Nik, had become sort of like parents to Gaz. Grandparents to Gen.
Genevieve called Price and Nik Grandpa Price and Grandpa Nik, and she called Diane Mawmaw Diane, and Laswell was just Kate. Laswell apparently didn’t want to feel old so she’d asked to just be called Kate.
Soap was Uncle Soap, since Soap preferred masculine or alpha leaning terms, and his boyfriend, another omega named Roach, was called Auntie Roachie, though Roach detested the name. Soap had jokingly called him that, once, and Gen had stuck with it.
Roach was another godsend, actually. See, when Gen was four years old, she got diagnosed with autism. Gaz knew she got it from him but he wasn’t diagnosed and he could pretend he didn’t have it if he really tried. She… couldn’t. Later, he’d learned how bad the terms were, but low functioning had been what she was called.
Roach, however, had apparently been diagnosed similarly. He had given Gaz every resource he had, had told him the name of a child therapist who could help, and helped Gaz pick a speech therapy class for her. Roach was actually still primarily nonverbal because of his own autism.
So yeah, he hadn’t needed his inlaws. Fuck them.
But, at home, it was just him and Genevieve. Yeah, Soap, and later another omega friend named Rodolfo, helped him out a lot, but he tried not to ask too much.
It was him and Genevieve against the world…
He met his daughter’s eyes in the rearview mirror and then he watched her give him this big toothy grin, complete with a missing front tooth which had just recently fallen out. Price had made some big display of finding her a fancy box to leave it in, which had been so convenient since that meant Gaz didn’t have to desperately scramble to find her damn tooth under her pillow.
Then, he heard it. A clankering noise which had him fighting not to hit his head against the steering wheel. Immediately, Genevieve’s hands covered her ears, so he handed back her headphones and the ipod he’d gotten for her, just so she could have a way to block out the sound in the car. Had cost him a lot, but it didn’t have internet.
Ignoring a car honking behind him, he continued on to her school, going into the drop off lane. “Have a good day, Gen!” He told her as he unlocked the doors. She came up to the window so he smiled. “Remember, spiders don’t roar, they hiss.”
She giggled and nodded before hissing, having an easier time due to that missing tooth, though it whistled slightly. “Bye, bye, mama.” She said, which always had his heart warming. He wouldn’t push her, if she remained nonverbal the rest of her life. But, it always made him so happy to hear her say Mum or Mama.
“Bye, bye, sweet girl.” He murmured, leaning out of the car to kiss her head. He grabbed her headphones off her head since they’d both forgotten and then he tossed them into the seat beside him, watching her run up the stairs to the door.
She ran up, immediately, to another little girl named Dae, who also had a single mom named Kim Hong-Jin, though he preferred Horangi to his friends. If Gaz remembered correctly, it meant Tiger in Korean. They weren’t really close, but their daughters had found each other and so they interacted for playdates.
It was… actually a rather tragic story how Dae came to be. Made Gaz grateful for a lot.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to just not put it off, and drove the car to Price’s shop, deciding to just take the bus to run the few errands he needed to. It would be annoying to take groceries home on the bus, but… he’d manage.
He tilted his head at not seeing Soap’s car in the parking lot, though Soap had mentioned he was taking less hours since Roach had convinced him to take a few classes at the local college. Regardless, he parked and got out, going into the building.
There, he was greeted with two alphas, who he didn’t recognize at all. One, a woman, had a warm smile. Her jumpsuit was currently tied around her waist, though she was still covered in grease, and her hair was in a long single braid down her back. “Hello.” She greeted. “What can we do for you?”
The other, a male alpha, caught Gaz’s eye embarrassingly quickly. This may have to do with him being completely Gaz’s type. Gaz was tall for an omega, but this alpha was still Gaz’s height. Blonde, with a slightly fuller five o’clock shadow, and a warm half grin as Gaz stepped in. A sort of charming “how do you do” grin.
“I uh…” Gaz shook it off, quickly, and turned back to the woman. “Is Price in?”
“He is! He’s in his office.” She nodded. “Do you need to speak with him? He’s on lunch.”
“Oh, I can wait, then.” Gaz answered, feeling guilty for interrupting Price’s lunch. “Um, my name is Kyle-”
“Oh, don’t give that shit, Gaz.” Price chuckled, coming out of his office. “You don’t have to wait. I forgot the damn sack at home, anyway, so I was watching football.”
“Don’t you mean soccer, sir?” The male alpha chuckled, crossing his arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you watch American football.”
“I mean football, Keller. The right football.” Price glared at the alpha, but his last name stood out to Gaz. Ahhh, Keller. This must be Alex and Farah, then. Laswell had taken in both, sort of like Price had, though they’d apparently been away for college. Both were 24, if Gaz remembered correctly. “Anyway, can you just bring in his car? It’s the shitty Kia.”
“Hey!” Gaz laughed, defending. “It’s my shitty Kia, and it’s been pretty reliable. When… it’s not breaking down.” He muttered that last part, and then sighed. “It’s making that sound again…”
“Probably the belt, again.” Price shook his head. “That bloody thing goes through more belts than I do around Christmas. Farah, can you-”
“On it.” She gave a thumbs up. “Can I have your keys?” She asked Gaz, her eyes soft. “Please.”
Gaz relaxed and then got them out, handing them to her. “Thanks… I have some errands to run, so I’ll be back in a few hours. Please let me pay this time.”
“For a slipped belt?” Price laughed, indignantly. “Here, you can pay by letting me buy you a new car.”
“You’ve done enough…” Gaz shook his head. He’d feel awful if he let Price buy him an entire car. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Well, then, in the mean time… free service. Here, I really don’t want you taking the bus through the city.” Price got out a second set of keys, likely to his truck, and Gaz winced. “Don’t fight me, Gaz.”
Gaz… also really didn’t want to take the bus. “Fine, I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Wonderful.” Price pat his shoulder and then immediately turned to Alex, who Gaz noted had been watching him the entire time. “Well don’t fucking dawdle, Keller! There’s shit to do!” He scolded before going into his office.
“There really isn’t.” Alex chuckled, just moving back behind the little counter. “Hence why he even took his lunch. Well, actually, he took it because Nik threatened to leave his ass if he kept overworking himself.”
Gaz laughed, softly, since that definitely sounded like Nik. “I don’t think we’ve met… I’m Kyle, like I said earlier, but pretty much everyone calls me Gaz.”
“Why?” Alex tilted his head, almost appearing to frown. “I um… sort of fail to see how that fits with Kyle…”
Gaz couldn’t help laughing, softly, since it made sense. “Price started to call me it. I’m not really sure why.”
“Ah. Well, the old man does funny things.” Alex laughed, softly. “I’ll let you get to your errands.”
“Thanks, I’ll let you…” Gaz paused, since Alex had just mentioned that it wasn’t busy. “Well, be bored, I guess. Dawdle.”
Alex laughed, again, and Gaz hated how he flushed from the sound of it. Look, he hadn’t gotten laid in a while, okay? Taking a deep breath, Gaz shook his head. No, don’t go for it. Alphas didn’t want omegas who already had kids. They definitely didn’t want omegas who had the laundry list of health issues that Gaz did.
So, he just said another goodbye, and quickly left, gladly taking Price’s truck and going to run his errands, dropping the groceries off at home before filling the tank and coming back. It was… twice what he’d have to pay for his own car, but hey, free car service. And, he’d gotten paid a bit more that week, so he could afford it.
When he came back, he was surprised to see Price’s office was closed, which was odd, but Alex was still behind the counter. “Where’s Price?”
“Laswell called.” Alex explained, holding out Gaz’s keys. “Had an issue or something, so he rushed off. Took his other truck.”
“Ah.” Gaz nodded, taking his keys back and giving Alex Price’s keys. “Oh.” He hoped he’d still be picking Gen up, though he had about four hours left, anyway. Gen had an art club after school. “Thanks.”
“Hey, do you want to get coffee sometime?” Alex asked, which startled Gaz and had him blushing dark red. “Or… tea.” He chuckled.
Gaz couldn’t help laughing at the joke. “I…” No, he couldn’t. He did consider indulging for just one coffee date but… no. Alphas really didn’t like single moms. Even still, he didn’t want to just blow Alex off. He didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “I can’t…” He sighed, pretending to be forlorn. “I don’t date mechanics.” He joked.
“Oh, well if that’s the case, I’ll quit right now.” Alex joked, which made Gaz relax since that meant he had succeeded in not hurting his feelings. “I’m actually studying criminology. You date lawyers?”
“Too stuffy.” Gaz teased, leaning against the counter. “Too uptight.”
“I can be anything but uptight.” Alex grinned, leaning close.
God, Gaz wanted him so fucking bad but… he couldn’t. So, allowing himself one last disappointed sigh. “Sorry… I don’t date.” He smiled, apologetically. “You’re cute, though. Tell Farah thanks for fixing my car.”
That time, Alex did seem disappointed. “That’s alright.” He seemed to smile, anyway, before nodding. “Have a great day, Gaz.”
“You, too.” Gaz gave a little wave before heading off, trying not to dwell on his own disappointment too much. He reminded himself that single alphas weren’t looking for omegas like him.
As disheartening as that may be.
#kyle “gaz” garrick#alex keller#kyle gaz garrick x alex keller#omega kyle gaz garrick#alpha alex keller#single parent kyle gaz garrick#mechanic alex keller#gaz cod#alex cod#call of duty#call of duty fanfiction#omegaverse#omega kyle gaz garrick x alpha alex keller
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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.
Taglist Part 1:
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#call of duty fic#call of duty#cod fic#john price x reader#captain price x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#a/b/o#alpha beta omega dynamics#omegaverse#x reader
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im foaming at the mouth over the gazrudy thing GODDDDD i love rarepairs i literally Require more
It's not the camboys one, but here's some Gazrudy omega/omega! It's a little darker but you guys know who I am.
Warnings: rape/noncon, dark themes, explicit murder, domestic abuse
--
Rodolfo had broken another dish. His husband was going to be pissed. His hands had been shaking too hard to even stop himself, though.
He’d been married for only five years. He was only 28 years old. His husband was 45. He hadn’t even gotten a sweet period, he’d only gotten the cruel part of it. He couldn’t remember if there was a single part of his marriage where he hadn’t been beaten for small things.
He had had a suspicion of why he wasn’t allowed in the basement.
For the last three years, his husband would scream at him, beat him if he even looked at the door. So, he’d gotten used to ignoring it. Now, though… he couldn’t. He squeezed his eyes shut as he sank to the floor, desperately trying to pick up every piece of the broken plate that he could, desperately trying not to think about exactly what is in the basement.
What was their name? How old were they?
He had had his suspicions that his husband was cheating on him.
He’d come home to their bed smelling like another omega for a while. The scent was the exact same, a fresh rain that gave him the same sensation as sitting by a window while it stormed. It was a pleasant scent, he’d honestly liked it, even if it shattered his heart. Now, though? Now it sent it racing.
How long had they been down there? Were there others?
His husband had gotten too drunk two nights before. The door had been left open. Rodolfo hadn’t wanted to go down it, but he’d been able to hear the sobs. He’d stared at the opening for about ten minutes before finally going down the stairs. There, he’d been met with another omega, his leg chained to a wire frame bed.
It was cliche, it was from every psychological thriller, and Rodolfo had hysterically laughed because the image of the omega, dark skinned and bruised, had been exactly what he envisioned when he read books like that.
The omega hadn’t seemed to notice him and Rodolfo’s laughing had broken into sobs before he was quick to drag himself back up the stairs, shutting the basement door and locking it again, so his husband would have no suspicion of him ever being there. He had pushed away bile as he later seduced his husband to keep him from going back down there.
He wished he’d been being cheated on.
Wincing as he sliced a finger on a broken piece of the plate. They were crystal plates, they were supposed to hold a dinner party that night. Did the people his husband knew know about the omega in the basement? Did they know that his husband was a monster? Did they know how he beat Rodolfo? Did they know?
Swallowing his dread, he finally finished picking up the pieces and stood, again, dumping the plate in the trash, before just staring at the pieces as they glittered and sparkled in the bright sterile LED kitchen lights, contrasted against the black trash bag they sat in. The plates were a wedding gift from his husband’s family, from his mother in law.
He hated those plates. She hated him, she knew his husband beat Rodolfo, but she smiled and didn’t care. Rodolfo’s own mother often told him that wives have to grin and bear abuse from their husband, if they wish to be comfortable. You married rich, Rodolfo, what were you expecting?
As if she knew what he was going through, she was the aggressor in her own marriage. Rodolfo had watched her scream at and beat his own father, had watched her tell him how useless he was, how awful he was.
Rodolfo wasn’t good enough for his mother in law and her precious baby boy, Wayne Smith. He was practically still breast feeding from her.
He wanted to break another plate, but his husband oh so adored those plates. They were beautiful, they were pristine. And… they were beautiful. If not for what they were attached to, he would have loved them. He would have loved this entire house.
His eyes glanced at the basement, again. He couldn’t get in, it had a padlock on it. Maybe he should have freed the omega, taken him and just ran but… Rodolfo was terrified. What if they were caught? And to call the police was an even worse idea. His husband was friends with them, they would never believe Rodolfo over him. No one would even come to check.
So, he put the lid back on the trash and returned to the sink, trying not to drop another plate.
Later, he stood by his husband as he made some big speech about work and working hard and being a hard worker. His husband was charming, he was charismatic, he knew how to say a lot which meant very little. Even still, everyone around the table clapped and Rodolfo wondered when the last time the omega in the basement had eaten was.
Resisting the urge to recoil in fear and disgust as his husband wrapped his arm around Rodolfo’s waist was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he’d already been doing it for so many years that forcing himself to smile, big bright and plastic, came as naturally as waking up. He covered his face with a smile the same way he’d use his hand to shield the early morning sun, streaming in from the window.
Everyone stared up at his husband with awe and admiration and why shouldn’t they? They sat in a kitchen which had been photographed and placed in magazines, next to a wife who was still gorgeous and youthful and never nagged, eating food that came directly from recipes and classes by the best chefs in the world. His husband had achieved the dream, the goal.
Their eyes would barely glance over the bruises peeking from the neckline of a cocktail dress in a garish autumn orange that Rodolfo had not wanted, had hated. The omegas would smile with sympathy, the alphas would look away with shame, but did any of them help him? No.
Why should they?
“I saw the shards in the trash can.” His husband murmured into his neck that night, undoing the zipper on his dress. Rodolfo wasn’t scared, he had expected this treatment, he expected the hand around his neck, he expected the blows landed on his body, he expected the next morning where he had to hold a tissue to his lip that he’d accidentally reopened by forcing too wide of a smile as he lovingly kissed his husband on the cheek and told him to have a good day at work.
Now, he stood in front of the basement door, touching the lock on it. It was a padlock, it required a key. He didn’t have a key. His husband had the key. He bet it was on his keychain, too. He probably liked to look at it, remind himself what he kept down there.
Rodolfo hated him. He wanted to scream at him, he wanted to break every perfect crystal dish in the house over his head, he wanted to break down into sobs and he wanted to die, he wanted to run, he wanted to scream again.
-
Rodolfo couldn’t sleep. It’d been two weeks and every single day had left him guilty and more and more disgusted and afraid. If his husband’s eyes would shift to the basement door too many times, he’d force himself to go to him, rub over his shoulders and purr into his neck, beg his husband to touch him, to feel him.
He’d fight not to puke through the entire affair, wearing himself out in an attempt to wear his husband out, and sometimes it worked, but… it hadn’t that night. Because as soon as his husband thought Rodolfo had gone to sleep, he’d gotten out of bed and gone downstairs, and Rodolfo had heard the basement door open.
Guilt ate him alive. He should have tried harder, but he was in pain, he was exhausted. His husband never made love, he brutalized, and Rodolfo had to take a lot of it to even get close, and he’d failed, and now someone else suffered for it.
Rodolfo wasn’t enough for his husband. No, no, his husband wanted more. He’d always want more, he craved violence and sadism like an addict needed heroin. He never would have enough unless someone was below him, begging and sobbing and pleading to no longer be hurt.
Guilt ate him alive and sobs wracked his body, his mind tormenting him with images of what his husband might be doing to the other omega. If Rodolfo had only tried harder, his husband would have been satisfied and too tired to do anything else, but he’d failed. He’d failed and he would continue to fail, over and over.
He hated his husband.
Guilt turned to rage, and the sobs finally subsided. There was a little rod in his body, a wooden dowel, that kept his posture straight. It kept him prim and proper and pretty and smiling. It kept him in a good position while his husband tugged marinette strings above him, manipulating him, making sure he performed exactly how he was supposed to.
Those same strings yanked him from the bed, they swung his legs over the edge of it. He grasped the sheets when he was sitting up and he felt the little dowel rod in his body start to crack. Closing his eyes for a moment and reaching up to wipe his face, he stood and pulled on one of his many many silk robes. His husband didn’t want him being uncovered if he needed to be up at any point during the night, but what he covered with still had to be beautiful.
Another garish orange color that he hated.
He knew how to keep his footsteps silent, he never knew what would set his husband off, and he did it with some thick socks, carefully padding down the massive staircase to where the kitchen, and the door to the basement, resided on the main floor.
He pulled out the big knife in the knife’s block, he could never remember their names. Years and years of cooking classes, and it was the one thing he’d never committed to memory the names of the knives. He just knew this one was the big one, good for meat.
He really liked his knives, too. Black and beautiful, fitting with the neutral tones of the kitchen. Always sharp, he had them professionally sharpened. They had been sharpened that morning, in fact.
So sharp that as he touched the tip to his finger, it immediately drew blood, which he was quick to lick off, nodding. Sharp enough, more than enough.
The basement door hung slightly open, the stupid bastard likely not thinking Rodolfo would wake up and come to investigate. Of course, why would he? Rodolfo would be beaten if he did, so he wouldn’t have.
Rather, he was.
Or was it investigating if you knew exactly what you were coming down to see?
Grasping the knife in his hand, he went to the door and pulled it open more, knowing it was well oiled not to make a noise, since his husband wouldn’t want the squeak of a hinge to wake Rodolfo up in the night. He also knew that the boards to the stairs of the basement were well maintained, cement so they couldn’t squeak either. He kept every staircase, every floorboard so perfectly maintained. All of this work to hide it, just to forget to fucking lock the door when he got drunk.
Did his husband know what Rodolfo would do? Had this entire time… had his husband been secretly just as terrified of Rodolfo? Maybe he should have been.
Down the stairs, he could hear sobs. Begging from a broken voice, pleading. His heart ached, his stomach turned, and his eyes burned. So, the strings pulled him downstairs. They pulled him to a shittily lit basement where he got full view of his husband raping another omega.
The omega didn’t really fight him, Rodolfo didn’t blame him. There was no point, Wayne would take what he wanted regardless. That’s all he ever fucking did, was take and take and take and take.
He didn’t make a fucking sound. All Rodolfo did was stare for a moment, pressing his eyes shut. His husband was loud in bed, snarling and telling whoever he was fucking to shut the fuck up, to take whatever he gave them. As he did now.
The strings walked him to right up behind his husband and then they pulled his hands above his head. He grasped the knife handle with both of them, gripping so tight his fingers ached, then he finally screamed as he brought the knife down, right into his husband’s neck.
His husband’s entire body went stiff and then the strings were all being cut. He could practically feel the dowel rod as it slid from his body and he was quick to back up, gasping and staring at his hands as he did.
The omega was quick to scramble up the bed as his husband backed away and then slowly turned to look at Rodolfo, his eyes wide and full of shock. Rodolfo had never ever defied his husband. Not a single time. His husband had always had to get crafty in finding reasons to berate and beat him.
His one and only act of defiance.
Wayne fell to his knees and reached up behind his neck, pulling the knife from it and blood sprayed from his neck, coating Rodolfo in the first bit of warmth he’d ever felt from the alpha. The knife dropped and then the alpha followed, slumping forward and falling onto the floor.
Now, it hit Rodolfo what he had done. His husband was dying.
Frantically, he dropped down and shoved his husband to his back, desperately pressing his hands to the hole in Wayne’s neck to try to staunch the bleeding. The sobs were back, breaking his body as he desperately tried to stop the bleeding. But, it was no use, as more blood just flowed from the back of his neck.
His husband’s eyes didn’t move from his own, even when the life clearly left them, even when his entire body slacked. Rodolfo had done that, he’d killed him.
He’d killed him.
Carefully, he stood, staring at the blood that coated up to his elbows. There was so much of it. Then, his eyes moved to the other omega, who stared at him, wide eyed. He knew why his husband had taken the omega, he was beautiful. Clearly young, bright eyed, with miles of dark skin and all legs.
Rodolfo’s eyes moved between the omega and his husband, and then to his hands. He’d killed him, they were both free. Oh god, they were both free. He rushed to the omega, looking around on the chain that was on his ankle, seeing another key lock.
So, he went to his husband’s body, digging around until he found the key chain. It was on a long lanyard, and Rodolfo knew exactly what it felt like to have it hit his back. He desperately searched around the keychain until he found a key small enough, unlocking the chain and then looking up at the omega.
“What’s your name?” He asked before he could help himself, careful not to touch the omega so he wouldn’t be bloody. “How long have you been down here?”
The omega sat up, his hands trembling, and he looked down. “Kyle… I don’t know how long I’ve been here… It feels like years, but I think it’s only been a few months. There have been others, I replaced a different one that… that…”
Rodolfo understood. He shouldn’t have tried to stop the bleeding. “When was the last thing you ate- time you ate.” He corrected, trying to work through everything trying to hit him everywhere at once.
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t know.” He was clearly malnourished, so Rodolfo believed him.
“Come on.” Rodolfo very gently tugged him to stand, having to catch the much taller omega as he wobbled on his legs and then fell. Regardless, Rodolfo supported him, guiding him up the stairs and taking him to a bathroom, where he ran a bath and then left to put some food reheat in the oven.
Then, he went back upstairs, carefully washing the omega, who sort of slumped against the wall, his eyes seemingly having trouble staying open. “I’m sorry…” Rodolfo murmured. “I found out a few weeks ago, I should have stopped it then.”
Kyle shook his head. “I heard what he was doing to you… I could hear all of it… If you had, you might be dead…”
Rodolfo wasn’t sure he was wrong. Even still, he wished he had done something earlier. “I’m still sorry… I should have tried.”
Kyle didn’t say anything in response, so Rodolfo gently helped him out, got him a towel and then helped him down to the kitchen table, where he set the food in front of him. “I’m going to tell the police the truth. I found you in the basement and I killed him. They’re still going to put me in jail.” Rodolfo murmured. “But it’s okay. Do you have any family you can contact?”
Kyle looked up at him, clearly alarmed. “You can’t go to jail! You saved me, that’s not fair.”
“It’s how the law is.” Rodolfo shrugged, looking down at the table. “Do you have any family?” He repeated.
Kyle winced. “A father… and a brother. I don’t… my phone had their phone numbers. But… I’m guessing that is long gone.”
Rodolfo guessed he was probably right. “Do you know their names? I can search online, maybe find a facebook or a missing persons report or… something.” He murmured. “So you can go home and… I’ll take care of everything else. The police won’t come until I call them.”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t… My dad’s a lawyer. He’s a really good lawyer, he’s never lost, maybe he could help? I don’t… want you to go to prison just for helping me…”
“I don’t think he can help. My husband was well loved.” Rodolfo shook his head, sighing. “I’m going to prison.”
“Let him try… please…” Kyle pleaded, taking Rodolfo’s hand. “You don’t deserve that.” His eyes were big, again, full of tears, and Rodolfo couldn’t help but drop his shoulders and give in.
So, he did, looking down at their hands and nodding. “I’ll let him try…” He murmured. “If he’s a lawyer, it’ll be much easier to find him. I’ll just have to… search his name and find his firm.”
Kyle nodded. “His name is John Price.”
-
John Price did more than try. In return for rescuing Kyle, who it was determined had been missing for an entire year, he pulled every string he had access to and he made everything just go away. The charges were immediately put into passion and defense of another, as Rodolfo was honest and just laid out the abuse, and how he’d found Kyle in the basement of the house and killed his husband to save him.
It turned out that John Price was even more respected than his husband had been so all John Price had to do was wave his hand and every single consequence just disappeared. Rodolfo still inherited everything from his husband, though not his life insurance for a few reasons. Rodolfo didn’t care about that, letting the company keep the money. He also gave Wayne’s family the house in exchange for them fucking off, though they mostly seemed content to pretend it never happened as it made big news.
Big rich business man keeping omegas in his basement…
For years, Wayne had tortured Rodolfo and then just made his own consequences disappear. The police wouldn’t believe him, none of his coworkers did, none of his friends. Rodolfo had had no way out. To do the same, to get away with his only act of defiance, his worst act of defiance…
It was empowering.
Now, he was finding somewhere else to live, though Price had insisted Rodolfo stay with him and Kyle, and Kyle’s adopted brother Roach, until Rodolfo found somewhere. So, he was staying in Kyle’s room which was, ironically, in the basement.
In fact, now Kyle was getting dressed for the day, and Rodolfo was trying very hard not to look at him. He felt horrible for the way the omega made him feel, though he didn’t really understand the feelings. Omegas shouldn’t feel that way towards other omegas… right?
But, as he glanced at Kyle, or Gaz as he’d been called by Price and his brother Roach, his eyes immediately moved to trace over the regrowing muscle in Gaz’s back, the now scarred over skin, and he wanted to touch him. But… he couldn’t do that.
His husband had already abused Gaz for his own sick lust, Rodolfo couldn’t continue to make Gaz the product of lust.
So, he forced his eyes away, working on buttoning his own shirt. He was going to be looking at a few houses that day, having enough money from his husband that he could buy whatever he wanted. The problem was… he didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted somewhere that felt safe.
Preferably no basements.
Somewhere he could settle down and live the rest of his life in peace and silence. Price was going to help him set up an account to put his money into and then he could live off of the interest as income and he’d never have to work. This was fortunate as he had no working skills, his mother refusing to let him so he could grow up and marry rich.
He tensed, trying not to shiver as perpetually cold finger tips touched his arms and slid down them. The action caused his breath to catch in his throat and he was releasing it as hot air fanned over the side of his neck. “I wish you wouldn’t look away like that… You can look at me, I don’t mind…”
Gaz was anemic, due to his year in the basement. Rodolfo had heard him wake up screaming from nightmares, begging to be let go, begging for his father. Price was always dutifully there, too, holding him while he sobbed.
Rodolfo was always petrified with guilt. He should have noticed, he should have looked earlier. Then, of course, his further inaction only had him feeling guiltier and guiltier. Sometimes, in the morning, he’d have to excuse himself to the bathroom so he could puke his guilt up, his body fighting to desperately purge the feeling.
“I… I can’t… do that to you…” Rodolfo whispered, pressing his eyes shut as the guilt rose, again, threatening him with more bile and nausea.
But, he was met with a soft whimper and then Gaz came around Rodolfo, looking down at him. “Why not? You’re not your husband, you’re not that monster.”
Rodolfo softened, looking down at his hands. He didn’t have a good excuse, maybe it was just the guilt and fear. Even still, it held his hands at his sides, and it kept his eyes from Gaz’s still bare chest. “I… I can’t.”
“Please…” Gaz begged and then he was taking Rodolfo’s hands, pulling them up to rest on his face. A soft rain washed over him and he melted into the scent, focusing on the feeling of Gaz’s skin under his hands, feeling his jaw and then his lips as he turned his face to press them to Rodolfo’s wrist.
They were soft, softer than his husband’s had been, though Rodolfo doubted he’d ever felt them past his teeth. Everything about Gaz was softer. His skin, his eyes, his voice. Rodolfo wanted to sink into it, and never leave. When Gaz prompted Rodolfo’s hands to move down to his neck, Rodolfo didn’t stop him, just continuing to feel him and feel the bones in his neck, in his collarbone, the softness in his chest and then Gaz let Rodolfo’s hands dropped. “Please.”
Rodolfo looked up, meeting Gaz’s eyes, again, and they were so big, they were so… so… desperate. He felt like he’d be committing an even worse offense by saying no… So, he didn’t. He gave in and nodded, gasping when Gaz’s mouth was on his own barely a moment later. Their lips slotted together in a way that Rodolfo had never experienced.
They were matched, no one was trying to dominate the other. This kiss didn’t make him feel like he had to fight to keep his head above the ways, kicking at hands that threatened to drag him down, that threatened to drown him. No, instead, he was laying on the surface of the water, feeling it gently sway him.
When Gaz pulled him back to the bed, Rodolfo didn’t resist to follow, just climbing onto it as Gaz laid back and finally broke the kiss, their eyes meeting again. Again, though, Rodolfo hesitated and Gaz made a soft sound, rolling them over before slotting their legs together and rolling his hips against Rodolfo’s.
Warm pleasure spread through his body, helped along by Gaz leaning down and kissing his neck. So, Rodolfo’s hands moved up and ran over Gaz’s body, desperate to touch every inch of skin that he could. It appeared Gaz was just as desperate, though, as his hands worked to unbutton Rodolfo’s shirt, again, and then hands were running over his chest, grasping as his softest places.
Gaz continued to move their hips together, though both were quick to remove their pants as the pleasure soon just wasn’t enough and then Gaz’s fingers pressed inside Rodolfo, moving in a way that gave him a new pleasure he’d never experienced from an alpha. Gaz knew what he was doing, and it made sense.
An omega would know how best to please another omega.
Rodolfo returned the favor in the best way he could, having to squirm to reach. Thankfully, Gaz moved to help him, shifting so he was half raised above Rodolfo’s stomach, his hand behind him to keep working in and out of Rodolfo’s soaked hole.
So, Rodolfo’s fingers sank into Gaz, and his heart thrummed as Gaz’s head fell back, a soft moan coming from the omega’s lips. This felt… right. There was no disgust from Gaz’s touch, no need to recoil and run away. He wanted this, he wanted it more than anything.
He moved his hand in time with Gaz’s, keeping whatever tempo that Gaz set, and following his lead. It’d been established that Gaz, who had slept around before being taken, was far more experienced than Rodolfo, who was a virgin before meeting Wayne. Gaz had clearly taken that into consideration, because he would move if needed, showing Rodolfo where to touch, where to move, and keeping the lead.
As Rodolfo’s pleasure built into something white hot, his own movements became frantic, but it was okay because Gaz just started to roll his hips down onto Rodolfo’s hand, coaxing him. “It’s okay… Just give into it, let it crash over you…”
Rodolfo took a breath and did his best to relax before he was arching his back without meaning to, pushing his own fingers deeper into Gaz who’s body stuttered and slumped back for a moment, a soft whimper falling from him.
Rodolfo was quick to take advantage of the new knowledge, arching again to push his fingers deeper and deeper before craning his hand, shoving them about as deep as he could manage. He brushed against Gaz’s back wall, just barely able to reach and then he pressed against the flesh that he could, eyes going wide at the reaction that caused.
Gaz cried with pleasure, his thighs shaking around Rodolfo, and then he was returning the favor, his own longer fingers managing to reach much deeper than Rodolfo could, kneading at Rodolfo’s back wall. The pleasure was overwhelming, taking over his entire body and forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut and bit his tongue to keep from screaming.
Every muscle in his body trembled as Gaz kept up with the treatment, and he fought to reciprocate, continuing to knead into the flesh inside Gaz, who was now trembling in a similar way. Moments later, intense pleasure was crashing into Rodolfo in waves, while Gaz practically screamed and clenched around Rodolfo, his body jerking in an almost desperate fashion.
Afterwards, the omegas collapsed into each other, Gaz squirming so he could bury his face in Rodolfo’s chest. “Do you know what just happened?”
Rodolfo had a bit of an idea. “I’ve… never had one before.” He mumbled, kind of embarrassed, and Gaz looked up at him, his expression soft. “Wayne never really cared about my side. Even in the beginning.”
“I care.” Gaz promised, resting his face on Rodolfo’s chest and looking up at him. “I fell in love with you when I watched you stand above your husband’s body.”
Rodolfo blushed and moved to look away, but Gaz stopped him, shaking his head. “Please don’t look away from me. It’s cold and lonely when you do…”
So, Rodolfo didn’t, instead moving to stroke his hand over Gaz’s hair and then down his back. He’d shaved all of his hair off, weeks after they returned to Price. He’d read some article about the memory of hair, and so he’d just shaved it off.
Rodolfo was glad to see it was already growing back, though certainly not as fast as Rodolfo’s would have. Rodolfo had considered shaving his, but he didn’t think that style would work for him, even remotely, so he’d refrained. Instead, he’d gotten tattoos with Gaz, since his husband had always hated them.
A phoenix on his side.
He softened when Gaz fell asleep, and made the decision to cancel his appointments, not wanting to leave, anyway. He’d stay there until something crossed his path, with Gaz.
-
Rodolfo tilted his head back and laughed as Gaz made their poor housecat, or one of them, dance across the bed. Thankfully, Snowball (Gaz’s name) didn’t seem to mind. He was a massive fluffy spoiled cat, which they’d rescued from under a car.
A soft breeze streamed in through the open window, and he could smell the scent of honeysuckle bushes and their many many flowering fruit trees, still smelling wet from the rain, though the scent might be coming from Gaz, who always smelled strong when he was happy.
Rodolfo had found the property by complete accident, getting lost and driving by it, seeing the massive For Sale sign. The price had been hefty, but he hadn’t cared, paying in cash so they’d give it to him right away. He’d expected Gaz to want to stay with Price, but… no. Gaz had came with him, and they’d built the cottage on the property, staying with Price for the year it took for it to be done. They were building an outdoor bath and shower, meant to be made to use natural water sources, and their previous project had been a massive home for several large rabbits that both had fallen in love with at the pet store.
They’d worried about Snowball trying to eat them, but the minute he’d tried, one of them had whacked him on the head and he’d ended up crying for a while, and dominance had been established. Now, he was content to cuddle with the rabbits who were somehow close to his size, anyway.
The rabbits had an easy access to their house via an underground tunnel that Snowball had yet to figure out how to get into, so it wasn’t uncommon to see one of the rabbits randomly hopping around the cottage and curling up to nap in the sunny spots.
Gaz finally let Snowball down and took his turn in the board game they were playing. He still woke up from nightmares, but he didn’t scream anymore. Instead, Rodolfo would be woken up to tears on his back or chest, and soft sobbing, which he was quick to soothe. Gaz seemed to take to Rodolfo singing when that happened, which Rodolfo would never fail to oblige.
Roach often visited, in fact they were putting together plans for a small guest house for him and Price to use when they did, as Price also often visited. “We should have my dad over for dinner this weekend.” Gaz murmured, smiling. “I think he misses us.”
Rodolfo had no doubts the man did, seeing as he was often asking when both of them would come back and visit, insisting Gaz not leave Rodolfo behind. “I’ll cook something big.” Rodolfo agreed. “Or maybe just chicken mole since he eats so much of it every time I do.”
“He loves your cooking.” Gaz confirmed. That had been one of the first things Rodolfo had changed about himself, relearning his home country’s traditional dishes. Wayne had hated them, insisted Rodolfo cook American food, but Gaz appeared to love anything Rodolfo made.
Rodolfo had already promised to host dinner for Christmas, and Price was apparently going to travel to find Rodolfo the biggest steamer pot he could find, and they’d built a big outdoor stove and oven so Rodolfo would have the space to do so. Price had a friend named Kate who had her own adopted children and an old childhood friend of Rodolfo’s had reached out after seeing his name on the news, so they’d have a decent amount of mouths to feed.
Rodolfo didn’t mind, he had never minded cooking for a large amount of people. There was no obligation, he could tell them all to go fuck themselves if he wanted, and so there was no pressure or fear. No guilt.
“Whatever you cook,” Gaz promised, touching Rodolfo’s hand, “he will love.”
Rodolfo relaxed, glad for that, and he quickly took his turn, before laughing as Gaz stole a kiss, before having to swat his hand away from stealing another game token. “That’s cheating!” He laughed.
Gaz pouted but didn’t try again. “I won’t cheat…” He mumbled, though Rodolfo could see the corners of his mouth rise.
Rodolfo did still feel guilty for one thing. If he had never married Wayne, if Wayne had never taken Gaz… he’d never have this. He’d have never had Gaz. In a sick way, he was grateful, though he wished he could take the memories away from either of them. It was the only good thing that Wayne had ever given him.
“You know, if you do plan to host more dinners…” Gaz started, chuckling. “We’re going to need more plates. We only have two, right now. Ceramic or glass?”
Rodolfo shook his head. “I don’t care, as long as it’s not Crystal.”
--
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#Gaz x Rodolfo#Rodolfo Parra#kyle gaz garrick#gazrudy#gaz cod#rodolfo cod#Rodolfo x Gaz#call of duty#rudygaz#omegaverse#alpha beta omega#omega kyle gaz garrick#omega rodolfo parra#omega gaz#omega rodolfo
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alpha!gaz courting you based on this and this :p
warnings: abo talk, possessive nature, smut ? phone sex
nsfw (ish) under the cut !! 18+ mdni !!
kyle is absolutely nervous when you first agree to the courting. he spends all night researching what is right for a courting gift even calls price asking him for advice.
it isn’t until he continues researching that he realizes, he’s been courting you all along and it throws him off.
he sits there, blinking at his computer screen and grumbles upset that he could’ve known this earlier if he was just a tad bit braver.
nonetheless, he shows up to your place that afternoon with flowers in his hands and some sweets.
he can smell your scent sweeten at the sight of him, like it always did and he can’t believe how dumb and oblivious he’s been.
he scents you as soon as you let him in.
“need you smelling like me daring, can’t have anyone thinking you’re free for the taking.”
he is SO possessive it’s insane.
always has a hand around your waist or shoulder. if his scent starts to weaken even slightly he pulls you into an alleyway and scents you (makes you scent him back, loves smelling like you)
a little bit more into the courting process he gives you some clothing for you to add to your nest.
he always did so, even before properly clothing you but now he just can without there being any reason.
he loves seeing how shy you get when your heat nears and you awkwardly ask him for something that smells strongly like him.
he shows up with his bed sheets, a part of him wanting to give you his briefs for you to smell him, his desire for you during your heat but decided against it.
he shows up a day before your heat is supposed to hit and scents you deeply, nipping at your scent gland which makes you whimper and almost beg him to stay to help you during your heat but you guys hadn’t talked about it yet so you dont.
you call him in a heat daze and whine into the phone as you touch yourself.
“want you alpha,” you whine breathlessly. “need your knot mmf- alpha please.”
he isn’t fully caught off guard but he stays on the line with you, helping you through your heat.
“my poor omega,” he coos.
you whine.
“what’s wrong omega?” he asks.
“want you- keep.. mmf fuck- keep thinking it’s you touching me but ‘m not-”
“your fingers aren’t enough aren’t they baby?”
you shake your head as you whine childishly.
“they can’t please you baby?” he says cockily.
under any normal circumstance you would’ve told him to quite it and stop being so cocky however, this wasn’t a normal circumstance.
“alpha.”
“my omega, so needy. you want my fingers baby?”
“mhm.”
“want me to stretch you for my knot? want me to slowly stretch you out with my cock don’t you darlin’ hm? need me that bad don’t you?”
he chuckles into the phone which makes you whine loudly.
“so needy. such a needy omega,” he coos. “i’d take you slowly. make you cum on my tongue before even fingering you. even then-” the breath he lets out is shaky. “i’d make you cum two, maybe three times before i feed you my cock.”
his words make you moan loudly, whining into your phone that you’re close. he keeps talking, urging you to cum. he praises you as you moan his name, moan for him.
he stays on the line as you fall asleep for now, your heat only just beginning.
#fanfiction#kyle garrick#kyle gaz garrick#x male reader#gaz x reader#gaz x male reader#gaz x y/n#kyle garrick x male reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick x y/n#alpha beta omega#omegaverse#omega reader#kyle gaz smut#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz my beloved#gaz mw2#gaz cod#cod mw gaz#bottom male reader#male omega#x gender neutral reader#x gn reader#gaz x you#gaz x gn!reader
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You ever seen a nigga (women and people in between inclded) so fine that you just wanna bark?
#ovulation week#yamato one piece#like why the fuck are you so fine?#alpha#choso#portgas d ace#König#Ghost#kyle gaz garrick#Katakuri#Nico Robin#roronoa zoro#cthulu#trafalgar law#soul king brook#jimbei#Shanks#god usopp
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Masterlist
18+ Blog! MDNI
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
I'm your only situationship
Mistress
Inevitable
Situationship into Relationship
Tormented by a Ghost
Submitting to his dominance , part 2, part 3
Please stop staring (or don't)
Good thing we're all dogs
Not a dog, but a rat
John 'Soap' MacTavish
Maybe Dessert first
John 'just the tip' MacTavish
You'd look better as mine
John Price
Happy trails, John
Loba
Soulmate AU part 1
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick
A chance encounter
Drabbles
Ghost being a toxic ex
Ghost with pre-parenthood
141!spotter Simon
141!spotter John
Dom!Ghost
cbf!Johnny
pathetic!Simon
pathetic!Simon extra
pathetic!Simon 1.2
pathetic!Simon 1.3
pathetic!Simon monopolizing you
blindfolded
König
cbf!johnny 1.1
cbf!johnny 1.2
Alpha!Ghost
Alpha!Ghost 1.2
pup!Ghost ask
cbf!simon dbd inspire
neighbor ghoap x reader
neighbor ghoap x reader 1.1
cbf!simon would kill for you
biblically accurate simon
davy jones!simon
ups!simon
cbf!simon teaches you everything
ex-husband simon
ex-husband simon with a twist
simon's not a guy you take home
pen pal simon, 1.2
Reqs
Ghost NSFW
Best friend!Johnny & FWB!Simon AU
Ghost is the unexclusive fwb
Ghoap x reader
Johnny helps with your monthly
You don't need anyone else but us
Escort AU
Needs must, part 2, part 3 (simon, johnny, simon)
Sensual Domination (kyle)
Price
Pet!Reader
Simon meets John's cat
Simon plays with John's cat
Betrayal pet au
Betrayal pet au 1.2
Betrayal pet au 1.3
The boys take you from your old owner
Old owner sees you with the boys
The boys take care of you
Taken to a new home
John doesn't come home to his kitten
Pet needs comfort
Pets exchange hands
Johnny gets himself a fox
Bun waits for Gaz to come home
Multiverse COD
'09 Ghost's wife meets '22 Ghost, part 2, part 3 pre part4, part 4
multiverse asks
Pornstar!AU
pornstar ghost, part 2, part 3
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OMEGAVERSE 141 MY BELOVED OH GOD IM GONNA THINK ABT UR WRITING ALL DAY
I do love this idea, so glad everyone enjoys this too!
Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Four: The First Heat)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Heat cycles, Comfort, SoapGaz, Slowburn
Masterlist
Your heat hits hard
It's not as bad as the one that nearly killed you, but to say it's uncomfortable would be an understatement
You don't notice it at first. You feel off, sure, but everyone has off days. You assume you just ate something bad at breakfast, shrug, and try to move on
As the day progresses you begin to wonder if you're coming down with something. You're parched, too warm, a little shaky. You think maybe it's a cold, that you'll just sleep it off
It isn't until you run into Price later that day that you realize
The scent of an alpha that's scent marked you in the past to help keep other away wafts across your senses, and before you can blink-
It sends you to your knees
Price is alarmed, and reaches for you, before he realizes exactly what's mixed in with your scent. You see his pupils dilatate, see his throat bob as he swallows, but he manages to haul you upwards and slowly helps you to your room
You're sluggish and hazy eyed by the time you get there, leaning your weight onto him fully as your legs refuse to cooperate. You try to apologize, and Price reminds you there's no need, that you can't help it, that he'll make sure you're safely put away
Yet he merely dumps you in your room and extracts himself before he can have a change of heart, quickly texts the others to inform them of the situation
You barely make it into bed, exhausted, feverish, muscles and joints aching. It doesn't take long for you to pass out
When you wake up, it's dark outside, your room is dim, and you feel damp, gross with sweat. Yet there's a little message on your phone from Gaz, letting you know there's a care package for you right outside the door
You manage to crawl over, open the door just enough to slide the box in. Your back presses to the door as you sit on the floor, eyeing the contents
Snacks, water, hygiene items, a little soap bar where someone has taken a blade to redundantly carve the word 'soap' into it, and a black dark hoodie with a scent so heavy that when you hold it to your face you moan.
You notice neither alphas has come to offer their assistance, and for that you're both glad and a little lonely about. The thought is shaken away as you stumble towards the shower, clean off, slide the hoodie on, eat and hydrate, and collapse back into bed
Maybe it won't be a bad heat, you think
You wake up and your world is on fire
There's only hot air as you gasp awake, clawing at your blanket, drenched in sweat, sheets soaked. Your skin itches, and you pull off the hoodie just to get a cool reprieve, only to drag it back on when the ache between your thighs clenches painfully
It feels like you're drowning, like your veins are molten, like you can barely breathe
And between your legs is a searing, pulsing emptiness that makes you clench around nothing, has you buck and gasp and whine in search of reprieve. Yet there's nothing to help. Not even the touch of your scent marked pillow, not even the smell of Ghost's hoodie or water or food
You manage to fumble for your phone, reach and text one single line
"He lp"
It's the middle of the night, you think they aren't awake, and after a few minutes you decide to fix this yourself, pulling yourself from bed towards a cold shower
You don't get far, legs collapsing under you the moment you stand. It's so much, and try as you may you can't seem to drag yourself very far, crying out in frustration and resorting to hauling a blanket from bed to curl on the floor
It's how Soap finds you, curled up and writhing in pain. You see his face float into view, ashen with concern, and still dressed in his sleeping clothes. You take one inhale and whine, arch your neck submissively because he smells faintly like Ghost, like Alpha.
It doesn't take long for him to help you into the bathroom, stick you in the shower with all your clothes on, and turn on the coldest water you can manage
"Yer burning up, hen'." He mutters, eyes cloudy with worry, a hand placed to your forehead. "Need tae cool you down."
He vanishes for a moment, and you whine until he comes back with a clean set of clothes
"Can you get dressed by yourself?" He asks, and you consider, shake your head
Soap is nothing less than a gentleman despite the fact he's already seen you naked before, manages to fumble you dry and get you into fresh clothes before helping you back into your room
It's there that you find Gaz, in the midst of changing your sweat damp sheets, bleary eyed but offering you a smile
You're considerably more relaxed by the time the two sergeants have you fed and hydrated, finally curled up between the both of them on your cot
They're soaked in Price and Ghost's scents, and it's enough to make the need between your thighs relax just enough for you to go limp between them
Your head is cloudy with lust, with need, swimming with low pulsing desire at bodies pressing into you on either side smelling like alpha
It makes you hiccup, tears forming in your eyes at wanting, needing, hoping for them as your blood thrums too warm in your veins, and your voice chokes on their names as if somehow you can summon them the quell the ache
You know, in some distant, logical part of your brain, that Price and Ghost are being more than decent about this, that even if you asked in this state they'd refuse you until your mind is clear
It doesn't stop you from being a whiny, needy, horny mess between the two men that smell like them. Your hips jerk automatically, seeking friction, even as a hand kneads the small of your back to try and soothe you into keeping still. it has the entirely opposite effect, makes your fangs pop out and a low, heady moan tumble past your lips
It aches
Yet then a large, firm hand grasps onto your nape, and you suck in an unsteady breath as someone who smells like an alpha scruffs you, making you automatically go limp and still
"Good omega." Soap purrs in your ear, and you shudder, whine, but remain pliant in his grip, wet eyelashes fluttering as a heavy fog of sleep descends upon you once more, safe in the arms of the two men you trust the most to keep you like this
#omegaverse cod#soap x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john price x reader#poly tf141#modern warfare 2#x reader#reader insert#omegaverse au
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