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phantumsimp · 1 year

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By All Means Necessary

Chapter 3: Compromise

A/n: Realized I never posted this chap, so here ya go <3

To say you didn’t sleep well last night would be an understatement.

You tossed and turned all night, completely restless. Just not being able to get your brain to shut the hell up. You couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling that something was gonna go wrong today. Well, not wrong per say, but something just didn’t feel right and you were too tired to put your brain to good use to figure out what you may or may not be forgetting.

Not to mention you kept thinking about Soap. For whatever reason, he’d caught your attention. You weren’t exactly sure about what to do about that, but you elected to ignore it for now. Not to mention he would probably kill you if he had the chance.

You sighed. When did life come to this? When did you become no better than your parents?

You walked through the halls of the base like a zombie. Nobody was really around but the few you did pass stared like you were someone they’d never seen before. Which you probably were.

Your eyes had black Friday level bags under them and it felt like you’d collapse at any second but still, you walked with your head held high.

No one had ever seen you look less than your usual perfect mask. Your very presence commanding attention and order from everyone in the room. You took great pride in the cold-hearted leader persona you’d built for yourself. So seeing anyone regard you with half-assed concern in their eyes had you snarling under your breath to every person you passed. They all thought you were nothing more than a weak, useless omega just like your father, seeing as not a single one of them ever really accepted you as their true leader. You were just a temporary fix in their eyes. Someone they had to obey out of loyalty to your father.

‘That’s not true and you know it.’

You growl through clenched teeth.

You didn’t need their pity and you sure as shit didn’t need them.

You're headed to the kitchen/dining area of the base when you think back to the man you're currently holding hostage. He’s been here nearly two whole days without any food or water, and he must have to use the bathroom by now, right? Are hostages normally allowed to do things like this? Hell if you know, but captive or not, he was still a human being and you’d treat him as such.

You make a right, passing rows of standard brown doors on both sides of the hall, each one sporting a small sign with a name on it. The building had enough rooms to house about one hundred fifty people but currently only held ninety six. The rooms were also scent-proofed to avoid any rut triggers or territorial conflict nonsense. The walls of the base are an off white color and the paint is peeling in some areas revealing another layer of old white paint. You’d have to do something about that.

‘Anyways’, you make one final turn and find the double doors leading to the kitchen. Walking in you see the entire room is deserted and begin to regret not checking the time before hastily exiting your room but it didn’t really matter now. You saunter through the dining hall and to the kitchen area to get the ingredients for breakfast.

You dance around the room, dissociating a bit as you fall into a rhythm. Grabbing several loaves of bread, cinnamon, and sugar from the pantry, a few packs of bacon, three cartons of eggs, a container of butter, and a jug of milk from the fridge, and a pot from under the cabinet. Placing the plethora of food on the tile counter and the pot on the stove. Returning to the cabinets you grab a medium sized bowl, three long flat pans, and two skillets.

Taking inventory of your items, you realize you forgot to grab utensils and open a drawer to your right and pull out a whisk, two spatulas, and a wooden spoon, setting them on the counter too. You grab the milk and pour the entire gallon into the pot, turning the heat up to around five. You turn the oven on broil before focusing on taking out some bread for toast. Placing as many slices you can on the flat pan you begin to butter the bread. After that’s done you go back to the milk to stir it some before grabbing the small bag of sugar to sprinkle some across the top of each slice of bread, doing the same with the cinnamon, you slide the pan into the oven.

You clap your hands together, ‘Time to make the bacon and eggs.’

You slide the bowl in front of you and crack open all the eggs in the carton then take the whisk and stir until it's all blended. You absentmindedly start whistling a tune as you cook.

Completely content and wrapped up in the moment, you just realized that people are filing into the dining hall. The room comes to life as people settle at their tables, excited for whatever you’re making. You can’t help the smile that comes to your face. You knew none of them were loyal to you, only taking orders from you because your father is gone, but it felt… nice, almost, to know that the alphas and betas of your family’s organization depended on you for something. It was a bit pathetic but you weren’t in the right state of mind to deny yourself this simple pleasure.

Around thirty minutes passed and you had finished cooking everything. The counter was filled with dishes of bacon, eggs, toast, and a pot of oatmeal was left on the stove. You had made a plate for you, then one with a much bigger portion on it.

“Wait, something to drink..” You mumble, making one last trip to the large fridge and browsing your options. Eventually settling for orange juice, grabbing the small jug and pulling two cups from the cabinet you exit the kitchen, carrying both plates and the juice and the idle conversations in the dining hall cease. Everyone turned to you with an eager gleam in their eyes. All attention was on you.

You smirked, “Breakfast is ready, and don’t forget to clean up your mess afterwards.”

“Yes ma’am!”

“No problem, Boss!”

“Hell yeah!”

You laugh, shaking your head. Your hard exterior cracking as you watched the hungry men and women charge the kitchen like starving animals. Those of them not consumed in the task of reaching the food paused, having never seen you this at ease, and taken aback by your genuine show of emotion. You decided to ignore their mesmerized stares and swiftly exit the room.

You start back the way you came, headed for Soap's room. You really don't know what to do with him now. You got what you needed, and you already told him you weren't gonna kill him, but now thinking about it, you really don't have a solid plan on returning him.

You pause.

How the fuck we're you gonna get him home?!?

You bit your lip. You can't just call his team and hand him over, there's so many things that could go wrong with meeting up with them. Your eyebrows furrowed and the pressure on your lip increased. How could you not have planned this out? You'd been so focused on the means and the end that you didn't think about anything in between. Like, how was that conversation gonna go anyways?

‘Hey, so I’m here to return your Sergeant! All safe and sound so please don’t shoot me!’

Your teeth broke through your lower lip taking you out of your buzzing thoughts. "Fuck.." you grumble before continuing on your route. You could think about this later.

You tried to move as quickly as possible, not wanting the food to get cold before you could enjoy it. Soon enough you were standing outside the door. Two men on either side standing guard. They stood at attention upon your arrival.

"At ease."

"Good morning, Head Omega." They both said in union. You nodded for a response. Then you noticed they were both staring down the plates in your hands.

"Take a break and go eat before it's gone. Be back in thirty." You say. Both men give a short nod before taking off down the hall. "I'd pick up the pace if I were you, it was a stampede when I left!" You called after them making them sprint faster, one throwing a "thank you!" over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.

You balance the plates onto one arm so you can open the door. Being extra careful not to drop the silverware or the cups.

"Mornin' Sergeant." You greet him. Soap looks at you with hatred burning in his eyes.

"Fuck off." He spits. You smile apologetically. "I guess I deserve that."

He rolls his eyes and you can't help but feel slightly dejected at his dismissal. You shake it off before continuing. "I brought food.” You explain. “Figured you'd be hungry by now."

His eyes narrow slightly before he scoffs, "What kinda shit ya playin' 'ere, lass?" In this situation, it was probably stupid of him to ask but he couldn’t help it. You hadn’t harmed him yet, but he didn’t know if he would do something to change that. You didn’t seem like much of a threat, but he knew better than to underestimate you. This isn’t his first time being held captive.

Your brows arch in confusion. "I'm not sure I know what you mean." You respond, putting the plates down on the small table in the room.

"I think ya do."

"No I actually don't."

He let out an annoyed rumble, bearing his teeth at you. "All of this shit!" He gestures at you, "Look at everything you're doin’ and tell me it makes fuckin' sense." Another bold move, but he was fucking angry and rightfully so.

"I was just trying to feed you. Didn't know that was so strange." You cross your arms.

Whatever patience he had with you vanished into thin air. "Why are you doing this, really? ‘Cause if I'm being completely honest, I don' think ya know what you're doin' or what you've gotten yourself into by poking around in my head!" He yelled accusingly.

You hissed, your pupils thinning to slits, food forgotten on the table. Your entire mood has been sour all day and he was jumping on your last nerve.

"I know exactly what I'm doing! And I don't care what I've 'gotten myself into' because I can take care of myself! I'm not afraid of you or the 141!" You snarl, first clenching together as you try to keep your composure.

‘Relax’ You repeat like a mantra in your head.

"Then you're out of you fuckin' mind! Whatever was important enough to you to probe around my fuckin' head better be worth it Lass, because I'm telling you, this will not end well for you and everyone else you've dragged into this." He snapped.

You scream as you grab the unoccupied chair and throw it into the wall, a hole left in its wake. "WHAT IF I DON’T CARE?!" You screech, all your pent up frustration and anger flowing freely now. "WHAT IF I’M WILLING TO DO ANYTHING?! WHAT IF THROWING MY LIFE AWAY IS SOMETHING I’M WILLING TO DO IN ORDER TO SAVE ONE OF MY OWN? TO PROVE THAT I CAN HOLD MY OWN DESPITE ALL THE ODDS AGAINST ME!" You scream. Your eyes burn, but you refuse to let any tears fall.

Soap stares at you in silence. You wrap your arms around your heaving chest, averting your eyes from his piercing blue ones.

‘Shit, this is not how this was supposed to go’ You think miserably.

You feel so weak right now. All you ever strived for was to be strong. Strong enough to protect the ones you loved. To prove that you weren't worthless.

But look at you now.

Lashing out and curling in on yourself because someone insulted you.

'Pathetic.'

"Who are ya tryna save, Omega?" He questions, voice softer than any tone you’d heard from him. It honestly startles you. You shake your head. "Like you care."

"I do." He says sincerely. You peek up at him, searching his eyes for any sign that he was being anything but. You didn't find any.

You look back to the floor, biting your already abused lower lip. Your arms tighten around your torso. You can't trust him. If you tell him anything, you'd be admitting to needing someone to help you with your problems, and you don't need help. You have a plan, and you'd figure out the rest on the way.

You make eye contact again, you stand tall and unwrap your arms to fold them across your chest. Soap internally sighs, seeing your decision written on your face.

"I can take care of my own problems, I don't need your fucking pity and I don't need you anymore. The only reason you're still here is because I haven't found a foolproof way of giving you the boot. So next time you decide to spout nonsense about me 'not knowing what I'm doing', I will cut out your tongue. Do you understand me?" You growled as maliciously as you could. The words burn like acid on your tongue. You feel like shit, but you had a point to make.

Soap deadpanned. He was not expecting that, and he didn't know how to feel about it but he wasn't gonna give up that easily. He didn't know why he cared so much, but nothing about this situation could be considered normal, so he didn't see the harm in getting you to trust him. Not to mention he had no intention of letting you give whatever information you got from him to anyone else no matter how good the reason.

He weighed his options. Then it hit him.

You stare at him, almost daring him to say something when you feel it.

The calming blanket of pheromones creeps up your spine and your omega whole-heartedly welcomes it against your will. Your eyes widen and you exhale shakily. His scent quickly dominates the room and you feel yourself relaxing the more you breathe it in.

You’re calming down, but something feels wrong about this. Scenting shouldn’t feel like this, should it? You try to recall other times that it felt like this and found none. All you found was fear, pain. Memories of your father flooded your brain. You backed into a corner, your father’s hulking frame towering over you. His aggressive pheromones forcing you to cower and bare your neck in submission.

You feel your knees give out. You hunch over, your hands trembling as you succumb to the comfort of Soap’s scent. His comfort washing away every memory of your father’s cruelty.

“I’m..I..” You choke out. You look at Soap brokenly. His face twists into confusion. He’s never seen anyone react this badly to being scented before. What could've-

His thoughts break off as he realizes. He gasps, “You’ve… You’ve never been properly scented before… have you?” He asked, more to himself than you. You continue to stare at him, unshed tears blur your vision. You feel so weak…

“C’mere, Lass.” Soap opens his hands out to you. You look at his hands, then back up to his eyes. You don’t want to do this. You can’t do this. You shake your head and avoid his gaze.

“Omega.” Soap pushed. You pause. You hate the effect he has on you.

‘No. I can’t do this!’ You protest to yourself. You want to give in.

‘He is safe.’ your omega shouts to you. You squeeze your eyes shut. You can’t be sure of that.

He pushes another wave of pheromones through the air. Breaking through the cracks of your fading resistance.

No.

You’re not thinking straight. There is no way you can trust a word he says. This has to be a trick, but why? Did he not believe you wouldn’t kill him? No, if you were you would've done it by now. He was smart enough to know that, you think. You couldn’t guess what he was trying to do and that scared you. Your head is spinning. One thought chased the other until it became a raging tornado, tearing through your concept of right and wrong. You didn’t know how much longer you could stay strong.

“I promise I won't try anything. Just please, come here.” He whispers. And you were falling.

You break. Finally allowing the tears to fall from your eyes. Your sobs shake you to your core. Soap’s hand comes to rest on your head and pulls your head to rest on his knee. He doesn’t speak. He lets your tears soak into the material of his jeans.

You hiccup as tears run white hot down your face. Each one branding you with your weakness. Your inability to hold yourself together. You're swimming in despair and the only thing keeping you from drowning is the gentle caress of Soap’s hand and the calming scent permeating the air. Fuck. You were supposed to be stronger than this.

“You are strong.” Soap says and you realize you must’ve said that last part out loud. “Look, I know tha’ this situation is fucked up, but you don’ have to do this alone. Just talk to me. We can figure this out, so no one has to get hurt. I don’ doubt your abilities, and I’m not asking ya to let me take control. I swore an oath to protect. Kidnapper or not, right now, tha’ includes you, Lass.”

You scoff, his words ring in your ears. ‘That includes you?’ What a load of crap. You couldn’t just tell him… could you? “Why do you care so much? Especially after everything that I’ve put you through in the last 32 hours. I’d be pretty fucking livid if i were you.” You prod bitterly, you hate how shaky your voice sounds.

‘Weak’

The Scottish man laughs, “Trust me I am, but I do have some experience in situations like this.”

“Get kidnapped often, Sergeant?” You use humor to deflect, it works. He chuckles. “I wouldn’t say often but yeah, this isn’t my first time tied to a chair.”

You hum amusedly. “Do you offer your services to everyone who kidnaps you, or am I just special?”

Soap shakes his head. “Nah, can’t say I have, love.” You stiffen. Did he really just call you that?? A blush creeps its way to your cheeks. You… didn’t hate him calling you that. You try to turn away to hide it but he already saw it. He smirks and you glare at him, but it holds no real malice. His smirk turns into a bright, boyish grin and you fight a smile that threatens your lips. He really does look hella good and from this angle you get a perfect view of his jawline. His chest rises and falls softly with every soft breath he takes and god damn his fucking arms-

God, you really have lost yourself.

You sigh, sitting up straighter and removing your head from his leg. Wiping away any stray tears from your face you meet his eyes once again.

Fuck it all.

“Alright… I’ll tell you.” You rasp. He grins triumphantly, nodding his head. You roll your eyes.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before you begin. So much shit had just happened in such a short time span.

“Around a month ago, my father got a bulk order from an organization in Russia, the leader’s name is Igor Barkov, for american assault rifles, handguns, snipers, ect. You name it, they wanted it.” You started slowly. Soap stiffened, but didn’t make a sound. You continue:

“They were offering to pay 2.5 million US dollars for the shipment. Obviously, my parents were all for it and immediately started contacting our western arms dealers and traders. While they were doing that, I was tasked with transporting the cargo. I gathered a team of about thirty people. Fifteen for each truck, and made the necessary precautions and shit that comes with dealing and moving this type of stuff.

Around the time we were planning on moving out, we caught wind of a certain military task force receiving details on the whole operation and where the trade-off would be happening.” You stared pointedly at Soap who frowned. His face had confusion written all over it.

“Are ya sure about tha’?” He asks and you nod. His brows furrow even deeper. “Lass… when we flew into the states, we were meetin’ up with some friends. We weren't on a mission.” He couldn’t give any details obviously, but something was very off here…

It was your turn to be confused. “What? No, I’m sure of it. My father confirmed it himself.” You explained confidently. Soap shook his head.

“No, the only time we caught wind of anything was when you set us up that day.” He assured. But that was a whole week later! What the hell did this mean? Did someone relay false information? But that couldn’t be. Father confirmed it himself. He would’ve known if someone lied to him, he was a monster, not an idiot… Mother, maybe? If so, then why? You couldn’t think of any reason she’d betray your dad.

None of this was making sense. That dreadful feeling of earlier was creeping back up again. Something was incredibly wrong here.

Soap watched as you worked through it in your head. He tried to think back to before this all happened, but his head started throbbing again. Damn it.

“So what else happened? Because as interesting as it is, I’m positive we never heard anything about an arms deal with the Russians.” He spoke, pulling you from your mind. You cleared your throat.

“Yeah, that certainly is strange.” You murmur. “So, with the knowledge that we’d been compromised, Barkov and his group apparently assumed we’d set them up. They turned hostile. They stormed our base and raided the warehouse where we were keeping the ammunition and took everything. Lots of people died that day…” You trailed off. You were almost one of those people. You had never made any personal connections with anyone working for your family’s organization, but you made the effort to at least know their names. You read every file. Memorized every face. It didn’t hurt to lose them, but you still felt terrible. Your father made them swear that they’d prioritize your well being over the cargo. A seemingly well-natured gesture, but like everything else having to do with your Sire, it absolutely was not.

Their deaths were your fault. They died trying to protect the weak little omega. He was quick to make sure you knew that.

Shaking that thought from your head you continue, “I, and some of the others made it out okay. Managed to swipe an SUV and regrouped at a safe house about twenty miles away from the base. With it being too risky to contact my parents, we just waited it out in the safe house for what I think was around eight hours.” Soap listened with rapt attention. Hanging on to your every word. His brow was still furrowed, his forehead wrinkling. He doesn’t like imagining you in the middle of live gunfire. Call it instincts, he doesn’t care. But it further proved that you are a lot tougher than he thought.

“It was around seven forty-five pm when I got a call. How my phone managed to stay intact was a miracle but, yeah.” Soap quickly stifled a laugh, that should not have been funny. He gestures for you to continue. “When I pick up the phone, I see it's my father. I answered immediately hoping he was calling to let us know that he and my dam had got out safely and would be there soon but instead I was met with the sight of my parents bound and gagged. Barkov goes on to explain that if I wanted my parents back unharmed, then I'd need to… ‘collect’ something for them.” You cringe slightly. Soap’s eyes widen.

“They wanted ya to get information on us they could use against us.” He realized. You nodded your head. “They said the more useful the information, the higher the probability of getting my parents back.” You push your palm into your forehead and let out a tired sigh. “But if the information wasn’t what they deemed ‘worthy’, then they’d kill all of us.” You finish. Something still wasn’t adding up, but it seemed neither of you had a clue as to what.

“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap drawled out. You hum in agreement. “Yeah, life’s pretty shitty right now.” You chuckle humorlessly. You look up to meet his eyes to find they were already looking at you. “Still wanna help?” You question, “I am planning a way to send you home safely, but if you still want to take part in all this fuckery, then…” You pause. You were going through with this. Soap smiles. He needs to make sure that no one gets ahold of the information you have, and if he had to get closer to you to do that, then so be it. You, and the rest of this organization would be history by the time he’s done. He would find what you have, destroy it, then find a way to contact his team. He couldn’t do that from this chair. So…

“I’m in.” He declares. You stand up off the floor and dust yourself off. You don’t know why he is so adamant on helping you but you would accept. Just this once.

“Looking forward to working with you, Sergeant.”

This might just work out. –

Extra:

Your eyes fall on the forgotten plates of breakfast. “Shit..” Soap follows your eyes and upon seeing what was probably the most delicious meal he’d seen in months, his stomach growls. Loudly.

You giggle, and he shoots you a look. “Those are probably stone cold by now.” You state.

“Couldn’t give less of a fuck, love.” He responds without hesitation. You snort, “Fuckin’ knew you were hungry.” You tease. He growls and you put your hands up defensively. “I was just joking, don’t get your knot in a twist.” You say with a frown.

#By All Means Necessary #cod 2022 #soap x reader #soap mw2

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phantumsimp · 1 year

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By All Means Necessary

Chapter 2: Showtime

Carefully, you approach the restrained alpha. His thrashing makes your nerves flare. You're suddenly aware that you forgot to wear your scent patches today, as your scent turns sour from the anxiety coursing through your bones. You inhale again. Letting it simmer in your lungs before letting it out. You furrow your brows and nod to yourself.

The man stills his efforts for escape and you slowly lift your hand and begin removing the cover from his face.

Let's get this shit over and done with. _

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Sergeant McTavish. I hope my men weren't too rough when transporting you. You've been asleep for almost a day now." You spoke softly.

"Who the hell'r you? And why-" you cut him off.

"Nuh-uh, I ask the questions here Sergeant." You chastised, a smirk playing on your lips. Soap dropped his gaze to the floor, he muttered through gritted teeth, "Whatever you want with me, ya never gonna get it lass." He chuckled humorlessly. You smirk at his declaration.

"I figured you'd say that." You huff in mock disappointment. You forfeit your standing position to sit in the chair across from him. You take in his features, studying every inch of his face. His mohawk is a mess on top of his head, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each heavy breath. You had his gear and vest removed leaving him a plain white shirt that hugged his body tightly. Your eyes drank him in greedily.

"Y'know, I was never one for violence?" You started, getting a short unamused grunt in response.

"Being born an omega doesn't give you many physical advantages, you see. I've never been all that strong, so fighting wasn't really an option. But, I have found ways around it." You continue, drawing out the ‘but’. Soap finally made eye contact again. His eyes searching yours, analyzing. His face devoid of emotion. "You see Sergeant, I don't need to beat or torture the answers out of you, and honestly, I'm not sure I want to. "

You stand back up, your shoes click against the hard floor of the room. You walk towards him, your hand traveling from his bound wrist, up his arm, and finally resting on his shoulder. He tenses under your touch, his scent twisting into something foul as war rages in his head. He should be disgusted by your touch, but your hands were so warm and inviting. Your scent invaded his senses successfully putting his alpha at ease. He growled in frustration.

You placed both hands on his shoulders. Fully aware of what you were doing to him, pushing out calming pheromones trying to ease him. Lavender and honey permeate the air. You were tempted to press the glands on your wrist to his neck but that felt a bit too intimate, so you just moved them closer to him until his body untensed. You purred in satisfaction.

Growing tired of your games, the Scotsman grew restless again. “So whaddya gonna do, Omega?” He questioned, voice thick with something unreadable. You paused your scenting. A devilish grin parting your features.

“I am so glad you asked.”

You remove yourself from him. Swiftly crossing the room heading for the door, you reach the exit and tap the door twice. The sound of locks turning and the door slides open. You exit the room.

Soap takes this opportunity to take in his surroundings. The walls are a depressing gray color, there are no windows as far as he could tell, the only light in the room coming from a dull bulb hanging from the ceiling. His wrist and ankles are tied to the wooden chair with duct tape, and his torso and biceps are secured with a rope.

There's a small table resting in the corner of the room, but other than that the only furniture in the room was their chairs. Everything about this was strange as all hell. Getting kidnapped in this line of work was a situation no soldier was eager to get into. The moment the mohawked Alpha opened his eyes he expected the worst. Waterboarding, beatings, broken bones, ect. He was not expecting to see the most beautiful omega he'd ever laid eyes on, topped with her scenting the shit out of him. It fucked with his head more than any torture could.

He didn't know where his gear was. But that was to be expected. The longer Soap sat in silence the worse he began to feel. First anger for getting himself in this situation, then worry for Ghost as he didn't know if he made it out unscathed. He remembers the conversation your team had while restraining him, Ghost was the target. But knowing him, he probably didn't even break a sweat, fucking animal.

Then he felt ashamed. Ashamed that he let himself go down so easily. Taken completely by surprise and held against his will. It crushed his pride. He had only got one of them, but he let them separate him from his team, from his pack.

The omega was only gone a few minutes but it felt like an eternity before the locks sounded and the door opened again. The alpha straightened his back, his eyes trained to your form. You had a silver case in your right hand and made your way over to the table in silence, one of your guys walking in after you. The person wielding a camera and its stand. You unloaded a syringe from the case, your back blocking Soap's view, while the other person sets up the camera. Angled directly at Soap.

"We making a movie or something? Or you just takin a chance to keep my face in your memory forever? '' Soap teased. You looked at him over your shoulder, a small laugh escaping you as you filled the syringe with a watery yellow-ish liquid. "Actually I just might. You're not too bad on the eyes, McTavish." You played along." Such a shame I can't keep you, really. " You pout, making the Scot's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"What're you saying? You're just gonna let me walk after all this is done?" He asked, disbelief and suspicion coating every word.

"Well of course. There's no reason for you to die and I'll have what I need, and there's no way you'd ever find me, so yes. I will let you go." You answer him honestly, turning around, syringe in hand.

"What the fuck is that? Ya gonna put me to sleep again?"

You roll your eyes. "So many questions." You walk over to him and take a seat in your chair. His eyes never leave the needle in your hand. You sigh, "No, I'm not knocking you out again. I need you awake to question you." You explain condescendingly. "Then what the hell-"

"I do believe I stated that the only one of us asking questions here would be me, McTavish." You sneered. Annoyance flaring in your gut.

He began to argue back but you ignored him in favor of focusing on turning the camera on. Completing your task you turned to the now quiet male. "What I'm about to give you is a drug called Scopolamine." The male's eyes widened. "Due to the risk of you passing out before I can question you properly, I added a little something to it to keep you aware. Which is why the color is so off."

Soap snarled at you. Like hell he was just gonna let you stick him with that shit. He strained against his binds, his feral state getting worse the closer you came to his arm with the poison.

"Do not make me paralyze you." You threaten, eyes narrowed to slits. "Remember, I only need to hear your voice, the rest of you is irrelevant." He returns your glare with a dominating rumble that almost makes you falter before collecting yourself. You press a hand to his arm and try to find his vein despite his desperate attempts to avoid you.

Finally you manage to find it and immediately you inject him with the concoction. He's in full panic mode now. His scent becomes unbearable and you back away from him and cover your nose. You instinctively release calming pheromones, your omega trying to comfort the distressed alpha despite being the reason he's in this state.

It took about a solid two minutes before he calmed down. Slowly succumbing to the drug's effects. You managed to get your omega in check and took a seat again. He looked completely out of it. Eyes glossy and head hanging limply on his shoulders.

"You still with me?" You spoke up in an attempt at getting his attention. You need to know if the serum's working. His eyes snapped towards you. "Yes?"

You nod, ready to start your interrogation.

"Who are you, and what is your current occupation?"

"My name… is John McTavish. And I am a sniper and demolition expert for task force 141."

You grinned brightly. Perfect.

"Now tell me everything you know about John Price and the 141." _

You step out of the room, camera and case in hand. You nodded to the guards as you passed. The halls of the small base are empty save for the few unlucky souls on night patrol.

You head towards your room/office. Well technically it was your father's office, but with him… gone, temporarily you made yourself at home. You near the door and shift your belongings to one arm so you can get the door open. Walking inside you head straight for the large brown desk in the back of the room, laying the camera and syringe case on top of it, you plop down into your father's chair and scoot up to the edge of the desk, positioned in font of a laptop stationed in the middle. You open one of the desk drawers and sort through the contents until you find what you're looking for, a blank USB drive and a cord to link the camera to the laptop.

Waiting for the laptop to start up, you fiddle with the camera. It's contents reminding you of the importance of your mission. Soap stayed awake long enough for you to get what you needed out of him, you still wished you'd succeeded in securing Ghost, but at least you have something. You have a plan, and let you wrestle with God himself before you back down.

The laptop finally started up and you plugged both the camera and the USB drive into it and got to work migrating the video to the USB. An uneasy-dare you say guilty- feeling festering in your nerves. You try not to feel. Caring and being emotional never ended well for you so you try your hardest to be indifferent, even though it went completely against your nature. You did what you had to and didn't care if your actions put other people in harm's way.

That's what you were trying to convince yourself as you wait for the video to finish loading into the USB. This was it. You were going to schedule a meeting with the people holding your parents hostage, give them the USB along with a file of Soap's personal information as proof of what was on the drive, get your parents back and…

Hope for the best, you guess.

A notification dinged on the laptop. The video had been successfully moved and you could remove the drive safely. You yawned and decided to call it a night. Removing the USB as you stood and stretched, you slip it into a yellow envelope along with Soap's file and seal it shut. You made your way around the desk and to a door on the right side of the room that led to a bedroom. Plopping down on the king sized bed you snuggle up under the covers, enjoying this little moment of peace before your thoughts shift over to the sleeping alpha a few doors down.

You weren't lying when you said he wasn't bad on the eyes. In fact, he was probably one of the most handsome men you'd ever seen. Hair a mess and face dirty from neglect, he still managed to look absolutely ravishing.

Was it even okay to be thinking about someone you kidnapped like this?

No, you didn't think so.

You let out an exasperated huff, 'stupid horny omega brain.' You think irritably. Forcing yourself to stop thinking about the mohawked man, you curl into a fetal position and squeeze your eyes shut tight. Simultaneously dreading and looking forward to whatever tomorrow had in store. You exhaled again, settling your frying nerves.

Everything was going to be fine. You weren't sure of it.

#soap x reader #mw2 2022 #fanfiction #Omega verse #by all means necessary

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