"Make us food, omega," Ghost growled, tossing you a sharp, deathly glare. "We're hungry."

You glanced toward the main common room as the others began filtering in, mud and dirt covering their uniforms. Their latest mission seemed to have been more intense than expected. A small part of you thought bitterly that if they’d let you join them, maybe they wouldn’t have returned so exhausted.

Omegas had only recently gained the right to join the army as full soldiers. At least, that was the theory. In reality, they treated you like you were fragile—more of a housekeeper than a teammate. Cooking, cleaning, taking care of them... That wasn’t what you signed up for. You passed every test, scoring higher than most, and for what? To be their cook?

"What’s taking so long?" Soap groaned, stretching his back.

You didn’t reply, walking over to them with a napkin in hand. Without a word, you tossed it onto the ground.

Ghost’s eyes darkened, his glare more menacing than before. "Whatever you’re thinking, I don’t like it. Pick it up and get cooking before I stand up," he growled, pointing at the napkin.

But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t hesitate. Your gaze was steady, resolute, reflecting the strength of your mind.

That was the moment everything spiraled. Ghost rose to his full height, and before you could react, his hands grabbed you with startling force. A second later, you were draped over his lap, your chest pressed down as he yanked your pants down.

The first sharp smack landed, stinging your skin and leaving you momentarily stunned. Humiliation surged through you as laughter and comments from the others rang out.

"Hope he learns to obey and shut up," Soap chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement.

"Our omega clearly needs proper guidance," Price added, his tone almost casual as Alejandro nodded in agreement.

Ghost, still fuming, growled low in his throat. "I’ll make sure he gets it." His hand slammed down again, harder this time, his frustration evident in every strike. "Count them",