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#ya you go get em lads
the-entitie · 6 months
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"Just, please... please. I'll beg."
Poly_TF_141 x sex-demon_reader Prt:2
Read part 1 here 》 ....
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A_N:... Continuation of the previous! This is part two, and to do with Werewolf Soap going into 'heat' but not the abo kinda heat. Soo, expect more wolf like behavior, and again, the same warnings apply.
CW.|.TW:... Sexual content. Intended male reader. Bottom but Dom reader. Polly-cule TF 141. Religious depictions of demons. Allusion to Reader having an Eating Disorder and the recovery there of. Ghost x Soap x Reader
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It had taken some time and effort, but finally, finally, you were OK with the casual emotion that the team shared with one another.
Being a permanent member of the team seemed to help. You even put on weight in the recent months that you've actually fed semi regularly, although it wasn't anywhere near what you should be getting but it was miles better then the months you used to starve through.
Price made sure that any time between missions, there was some form of sexual intention in his team.
Not the hardest thing when all of them have been intemit with each other for years before you joined in with the physical side of things. And Price let you have your fill of him whenever he saw that drop in you again.
But someone else came knocking that night.
A blushing Soap who was leaning heavily on your door frame, looking almost shy for his bulkier body. He hardly says anything as you beckon him in. Eyes still down cast even as he leaves the door ajar and is sitting all but an inch away from you.
"I wan'ed te ask ya if yeh would..." he starts, blush spreading down his neck. "Can ye. I just wanted.."
That's when you felt a pulse of a sweeter emotion, a spiking arousal that was tainted with a primal urge. This absolute need for something so deeply sexual it was practically making your mouth water.
"Your lycanthopic urge?" You question,
"Aye, my heat kinda snuck up on me." He answers with a curt nod. Still not looking at you.
Your fingers find his chin, easily lifting his stubble edged jaw, so he was nose to nose with you.
Soap had dilated pupils, only elipsed by this thin sliver of his irus. Those needs already making his mind want to lean in and chase those lips of yours. Instead, he flicks his eyes back up, that emotion growing thicker, sweeter, with the movement.
"Just please..." he half begs, already so desperate. "Please. I'll beg. I'll go away if ye don't wanna, but I just.."
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"Ok, I will lend you help."
You've hardly gotten the sentence out before Soap jumps you. Stealing breathless kiss after breathless kiss.
Guiding your hands to his skin, slipping them under his clothes, and soaking in the warmth with your skin on his. He gets so touch starved, so sensitive to it, when he's like this.
You near fucking his throat with a long split toungue isn't helping him think any more coherently. He tried to ignore the gentle tangle of your hands as you started getting him undressed. Body more demonic with the crackling desires streaming from Johnny's need for intimacy.
"You still got your mind in one peace there lad?"
A deep rumble follows from the door, Ghost standing there with his head tilted. Commenting, "Dumb Mutt just got one thing on his mind."
"You came to watch or pass along something or another."
"Oh, I wanna watch."
Simon crosses the distance from the door to your bed in two quick strides, fingers gliding in the panting Soap's hair. Pulling him back by the grip he has on the werewolf's Mohawk.
"Mainly to see this one don't hurt ya, hun. But to see if yah would need help."
Johnny rolls his hips against your thigh, toungue lulling out past his fangs and bruised lips. Eyes unfocused as he tries to keep his body still while miserably failing.
"Can get a bit one tracked and forget who's helpen 'em. And Price warned me yah got a habit of ignoring yourself."
"Acceptable. Just help me strip him before he cums in his pants."
"Alright hun."
You end up kneeling with Soap, hopelessly humping against your thighs with you stretching out your back so you can reach for Ghost as he leans back. Your hands trace over the fat of his thighs before using your tail to wrap around Johnny's waist, keeping a firm grip to help him actually get what he wants.
His cock already painfully hard, pulsing with each beat his heart had. He was happy to be pulled to where you wanted him, all but panting into your nape as he ruts up against you.
It's always that first breach that knocks the breath from you, but Soap sits still after he's fully sheathed. Just trying to feel as much as he can with skin against skin as that lusty haze fills his mind.
When he does start moving, it's at a brutal pace. Hardly pulling out before shoving back in all the way. Jolting your whole body.
That thickly suffocating emotion had your throat vibrating in the closest thing your kin could produce to a purr. Easily keeping him steady and against you with your tail. You could feel his back tense and ripple with each roll of his hips, with your tail snugly against his waist as he licks along any skin he can.
You heal too fast for him to see the hackies he's working along your shoulders, but the darker marks of his teeth do stick just a bit longer.
It's Simon who traces the rivets of your ram like horns, eyes watching the hitch in your breath. Fingers ever so gentle as he traces all the dents and scrapes along them; careful to rub his palms down the curve against your skull. And you can taste the lust that's just as strong from him.
When Soap had cum with a snarl, as he bared his teeth against your spine, you could feel how the tired feeling was pulsing along the need to keep going. He was hard and needy as he couldn't set a rhythm with the fatigue settling along.
He must have tried to get off before getting the courage to ask for your help.
Feeling a bit sorry for the werewolf, you roll him over; turning to face Simon as you hover over Johnny's body. Watching as Soap mouths over Simon's dick through his boxers, those sex blown eyes watching him.
When you started the roll off your hips, against the shivering Soap who moans egging you on; you saw Ghost lift his gaze. Watching you ride the other with ease.
"Shit." Ghost comments,
He hefts himself up to his knees, nearly covering Johnny's face with his crotch. The wolf didn't seem to mind. Just mouthing and licking at all he could reach. Soaking more of the fabric with his spit.
"Price gave this view no justice when he told me 'bout it."
Redoubled your efforts as more warmth flooded you, but Soap didn't soften. He only meets every roll down with a thrust up.
"Don't know why any of you enjoy it, and not the action."
Johnny is whimpering under Ghost, body trembling in over stimulation. Mind lost in the throws of the absolute pleasure you're helping pump through his very soul.
"More ta do with ya looking like yah enjoying yaself then the act alone."
"You have to be none-"
Those fingers dance over your horns, finally pulling a quiet noise from you. He leaned into you, sharing the quick hiffs of air you're both taking.
"That," Ghost repeats the action. You don't moan this time, but the effect is still evident. "Is what we enjoy of this."
"Prove it."
"Gladly hun." Before his eyes roll back into his skull, "Fuck... watch the teeth soldier."
Soap had pulled his boxers off with just his teeth, getting to his dick. At the comment, Johnny bared his teeth against the intimate skin of Simon's inner thigh. So close to him that the danger runs his blood just that bit hotter.
And for all that Ghost likes the danger, that bit of pain, he doesn't actually want to bite him. And not nearly as hard as he bites at you.
"He will tire out soon, just a warning."
Simon clasps at your horns, pulling you closer by them.
"Not for long hun, he'll be up and wanting more in no time." He presses his lips against yours, mumbling with a smirk, "and I wanna tag team him when he does."
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briefalpacashark · 7 months
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~A little brawl~
You decide to show case a bit of your skill to stamp out the ego of a new solider. And you get in trouble.
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You and your team were posted to some random desert somewhere to complete a mission. Having already done so you were gifted with a few days of rest before your transport back home arrived. Price was loving the time off reclined in a dingy old fold out chair that looked on the verge of breaking. A cigar pinched between his teeth and a cold beer in the other hand. His hat sat over his face.
“Working hard or hardly working?” You asked with a grin walking up to him a pile of reports tucked under your arm. 
“Can't you tell?” he asked gesturing to himself. 
“Medical reports you were after,” with a grunt he sat up taking the reports from you.
“So how are the boys?” he asked.
“Honestly don't know how long you guys survived without a medic,” you shock your head in bewilderment. 
“Where are they anyway, haven't seen em all morning,” you said.
“Oh, the little shites are playing with their new friends,” he jabbed his chin across the ways where a small group of soldiers had formed. Once you had finished business with Price you walked over, interested in whatever was happening. Spotting Ghost a head taller than the rest you made your way to his side. The acknowledgment that you had arrived was simply a sideways glance.
“What's going on here?” You asked as your eyes settled on a makeshift ring, its outline defined by a stray circle of rope set on the ground. A ring where Gaz currently was getting his ass handed to him. Your grimaced as his opponent landed a powerful hit. On the other side of the ring stood the team you had been working alongside. A group of grad A assholes.  An American team.
“Wanna place a bet?” Soap asked taking a sip of his beer stepping up to your other side.
“I hate to be honest, but Gaz doesn't look like he'll win this fight,” You chuckled under your breath.
“Oh we khen that. We bettin on how long he’ll last,” Soap stated with a grin. All your attention was brought back to the ring when the fight ended with basically a knockout. Money was passed around as you and the boys slipped into the ring helping Gaz to his feet and gently hauling him out. Sitting him down you tried to hide your smirk as you woke him up with a few gentle slaps on the cheek.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You just got ya ass handed to ya by an American,” Soap was far to entertained by the fact. 
“Follow my finger,” You ordered Gaz checking for a concussion. 
"Alright aright come on my turn," a young cocky bloke from the other term stepped into the make shift ring. He had been a constant annoying fly that seemed to hand around you. You had politely declined his advances. More than once. You though he got the point, after all he had left you alone for a bit.
"Come on Jimmy!" his squad encouraged him. Jimmy was his name.
"Whos it gonna be?” the soldiers all asked. 
"How about the bitch of 141?" he asked nodding to you. Your teams smiling faces dropped as the atmosphere did a one sixty. You pressed your lips together. 
“I'm good thanks,” you waved dismissively. 
“Huh, that's fine. What can you expect from you lot anyway,” he chuckled. You lot? The insult was weak, but it was there.
"Watch your mouth private," Soap's tone showed how quickly his patience for the other squad was becoming.
“Fuck off Pom, or come settle it in the ring,” Jimmy was a cocky young bloke. And little was known about the 141. so, he didn't really understand what he was offering. Well, the severity of it.
“Pom!?” Soap exclaimed in shock. Calling a Scots man British was just about the worst thing you could do. At that very moment Soap looked like he was about to rip the head of the poor lad.
“You know what, why not?’ you asked cheerfully patting Soaps shoulder as you passed him, gently pushing his back to Ghost.
“Look out, her she comes. Anybody got a set of gloves on them. Wouldn't want to catch whatever she's spreading. After all her teammates seem very fond of her,” You wondered where he got to gal of it all. Possibly little dog syndrome.
“Hey man, for your own benefit I would shut the fuck up,” Gaz words of wisdom were swept to the side. Unacknowledged by the confident young solider.
"What you got what she got?" he smriked.
Soap took a step forward only to be stopped when you held out your arm to stop him.
“Come on Soap. Rember what Price said. We need to play nice with the little new soldiers,” the team was barely out of training. It was maybe there third real mission. And Price had told you all to behave.
“You sure you wanna do this?” Soap asked with a little hit of worry as he glared down Jimmy. 
"I can look after myself Jonny. Plus, someone's gotta curve this kids' ego," you joked unbuttoning your outer shirt.
"You have faith in me right Ghost?" you asked half jokingly.
"Haven't see it personally but I believe you could take me down. So this fucker aint got a chance," he shrugged simply his tone serious. You propped an eyebrow at him. You didn't know he felt that way. You were sort of chuffed. After all Ghost was good in a hand to hand combat situation.
"Wow Ghost, didn't know you felt that way about me," You joked with a wink. You didn't stay to see his reaction as you stepped into the ring those watching letting out cheers. 
"Looks like your used to that," Jimmy muttered as you undressed your outer layer, his eyes resting shamelessly on your chest.
"What are the rules?" you asked shaking your jacket off. Everyone was surprised at the amount of muscle you had. Your frame was small but toned. Plus your team had never really seen your body. Soap let out an impressed whistle at your bear arms.
"Everything goes. No one kills and you tap out when you're done," Jimmy said rising his fists as he smirked.
"What about breaking bones?" you asked throwing your jacket to the side and rolling your shoulders. Your opponent was slightly put off with how calm you were.
"I don't know about breaking, but I've sure got one bone for you,” he winked his statement earning chuckles from his team. You looked your opponent up and down, he was pretty, but not your type. 
“I'm flattered but I don't have my magnifying glass on me right now,” This time your own team chuckled. You smirked slightly reaching behind you to take your phone out of your pocket. You had looked down to find a place to throw it. An explosion of pain snapped to your right cheek sending you stumbling. 
“Slut,” You straightened up feeling the coppery taste fill your mouth. He had punched you; he hadn't waited till the little bell had rung. A deep chuckle left you lips as you gathered the blood in your mouth and spit it to the side. Slut, you hated that word.
“The fuck was that!” Soap yelled in anger only being held back by Ghost. Why, because he had full confidence in what you were about to do.
“We hadn't started yet,” you chuckled rage bubbling inside you.
“Everything goes,” he shugged.
“Yeah, everything goes,” you nodded. Now you were a calm person, you were reasonable and rational. But the guy in front of you was cocky. And you so wanted to repay his for every unwanted advance he put forth.
You stalked forward your eyes narrowing in at him, then as you stepped right up to him you let lose. It was so quick he was barely able to throw up a block. Your fist cracked into his nose with such precision and speed that he fell back onto his ass. In a daze he stumbled back to his feet as you shock out your hand. He had a hard head. 
“Get em Love!” Soap cheered for you.
He threw a wild hay maker to which you simply ducked under. Delivering another punch you aimed for his kidney. The hit crippled him, he fell to one knee. Taking his head in hand you brought it down onto your knee. You weren't a violent person, but you knew how to end a fight quickly. After all it was those skill that kept you alive. And while you never took any pleasure in it you felt a slight tingle of satisfaction.
Pushing him back you gave him a minute to breathe through the daze.
“Tapping out?” You asked. He looked like he wanted to. His anger flared at the sympathetic look you gave him. At how quickly you had managed to beat him. And how pathetic he looked because of it.
“To a slut like you?” he asked stabling to his feet. He was in no position to fight. You almost felt bad for what you had done.
“Come on mate, you can barely stand. Let's call it a day yeah?” you were happy to keep going, but you were actually worried for the boy now. 
“Fuck you,” he seethed. Your forced a smile.
“Well then I'm tapping out,” you said tapping your thigh. You didn't want to continue, and you thought that would be the end of it. So, you turned your back to them. So, you didn't see the coward punch Jimmy threw. You didn't see it heading for your head. What you did see was a mass of black crowd your vision. Ghost had appeared Infront of you. You frowned as his arm shoot past your head, seeming to catch something. At the quick movement you jerked around following his arm to see he had caught the punch inches from your head. In one swift movement Ghost had swept you behind him as he twisted the man hand in painful position.
“Now that was just plane stupid,” Ghost stated as Jimmy cried out dropping to his knees at the pressure. In an instant both squads were at each others throats, yelling and throwing insults.
“You alright love?” Ghost voice broke through the commotion as he back over his shoulder at you while he still held the man in the hand lock.
“Y-Yeah,” you nodded.
“Keep your bitch on a leash!” Someone from the other team yelled. 
“I'll put ye in a leash!” Soap snapped. Thats all that was needed. After that all hell broke loose.
So, there you sat. back in your own base tent that you shared with the boys. You were all lined up in a row. You and Soap sat in the middle the widest grins on your busted up faces. The insults throw quickly resulted in a brawl. One you had originally tried to break up before getting caught up in it. Ghost sat on the other side of you, his mask covering some of the hits he took. Gaz sat on the other side of Soap shaking his head at the two of you. 
Price stood in front of you all an angry expression on his face. 
Do you remember in school when you would look at your best friend and just randomly start laughing. Well, that's what happened to you when you peeked at Soap out the corner of your eye. You both broke out into laugher that sounded strangled as you tried to keep it in.
“I can't even leave you unsupervised for one fucking second,” Price pinched the bridge of his nose.
“They started it,” Soap interjected.
“Shut up,” Price snapped. Soap ducked his head his smirk widening.
“He tried to get her when her back was turned,” Ghost stated nodding down to you.
“Well, still did you have to beat the shit out of them?” Price words brought proud smirks to all your faces. Compared to the four of you the other team looked to be just out of commission. In the end you all delt worse than you were given.
“They were talking shit. Had to set them straight,” Gaz explained with a shrug.
“I understand that, but all I'm asking for is a little self-control. I mean who put that lads head through that brick wall?” Price put and emphasis on the word brick. You all turned to Ghost who had personally express delivered Jimmy's head to the other side of the wall. Under the attention Ghost simply shrugged and looked away. 
“You're all on tent arrest,” Price declared. You all groaned and began to protest slightly. 
“Enough!” he snapped.
“This is what happens. When you misbehave you get privileges taken away,” You and Soap once again tried to hold back your laughter. It was like he was scolding a group of toddlers.
“And your two smart asses are on clean up duty,” he declared pointing to the two of you.
“Ha,” Gaz chuckled.
“Fucking kids,” Price grumbled as he walked away. There were a few moments of silence as you all came to terms with the consequences you faced.
“That was defiantly worth it,” you stated.
"Defiantly," - Gaz
"Fuck yeah," - Soap
"Should have done worse," - Ghost.
Another moment of silence passed around you before you all chuckled softly. You could even see Ghost shoulder shake slightly. You looked up to him with a thankful smile.
"Thank you," you whispered. To your utter shock and bewilderment he glanced down at you.
AND WINKED!
"Anytime love," he stated before getting up and walking away. Leaving you to wonder if what you had seen was an illusion or not.
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--COD Master List Here--
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Reverse trope prompt: Fake amnesia
Full prompt list here by @out-of-jams
Soap x reader
Maybe? NSFW - Soap gets a wee bit handsy with reader, nothing sexually explicit, profanity, soap is a sneaky lil shit
dividers by: @saradika-graphics
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"Where's me bonnie lass?"
"She's comin', lad," Price murmurs, giving Soap's shoulder a gentle pat. He squats down beside his wheelchair to peer into his sergeant's eyes. "Ya feelin' alright? Head hurtin' ya?"
Soap squints at his captain, suspicious. "Oi! Yer no' another one o' them doctors, are ye? Feckin' numpties willnae leave me alone."
Price sighs, shakes his head and stands. "No, lad. I'm— just visitin'."
Soap's face splits into a grin. "Oh. Well, tha's a'right, then. Dinnae mind visitors. Do ye ken tha' big bloke tha' wears a skelly mask? 'E comes t'visit meh, too." Soap leans in, voice dipping low. " Bit of an odd duck, tha' one. Tol' meh 'e was a ghost." His eyebrows arch high on his forehead. "An' the docs say I'm th'one wit' brain damage."
Price huffs a short laugh despite himself. "That's his callsign, lad. Do ya remember yours?"
"Callsign?" Soap repeats, looking confused.
"Never mind. 'S not important right now."
Soap nods, his eyes trailing back to the door. "'Ave ye seen the gas man about? Mehbeh he kens where me lass is."
"Gas man?" Price mutters, frowning, then understanding dawns. "Ah. Ya mean Gaz. He's uh— at work. Won't be around for a few days, I'm afraid."
"Oh. Tha's too bad. 'E's good at findin' m'lass fer meh." He raises a hand to scratch at the scar tissue on the side of his head. "Doan s'pose ye'd be willin' t'ave a look 'round fer 'er, would ye? Ah miss 'er." His blue eyes shine bright and luminous with hope.
Price nods, chuckling. "A'course, lad. I'll see if I can find her f'ya."
Price turns on the telly for him before he leaves, flipping it to a cartoon channel. Soap's loud guffaw follows him out into the hallway. Passing the nurses' station, he gives a nod to a couple of the nurses as he heads towards the cafeteria, where he last saw you. He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots you sitting with Ghost, a cup of tea in your hands.
You watch the captain's approach, taking in his expression, then grimace. His look is apologetic when he murmurs, "He's askin' f'ya, again, lass."
"Bloody hell," you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose.
Ghost grunts, eyes narrowing. "Funny, tha'. Johnny can't remember any'a us, but he's got no problem remembering 'er?" He tilts his head. "Bit strange, innit?"
Price shrugs. "Hard t'say, with an injury like that. Docs say he might regain some of his memory, he might not. No way t'tell."
You sigh, turning your weary gaze on Ghost. "His memory of me isn't perfect, either, ya know? You remember how he used to give me hell all the time. Now he thinks I'm his bloody girlfriend, for Chrissakes! He told Gaz we were engaged yesterday. It's bloody mental."
Ghost hums but says no more.
Blowing out a tired breath, you push yourself up from your chair. "Guess I better get back up there before he comes looking for me again. Thought that head nurse was going to string those other poor nurses up by their heels when Johnny gave 'em the slip."
Price laughs lowly. "And in a wheelchair, no less. Made it all the way to the exit before they caught up with him."
Ghost grunts as he stands, shuffling away from the table to join you. "I'll go wiff ya. Johnny might behave himself better if I'm there."
You snort at that. "Yeah, right. Might as well restrain him, because he won't keep his hands to himself, I can promise ya that."
As soon as you enter Soap's room, he beams a huge smile, his arms up, grabby hands reaching for you. "There ye are! C'mere, bonnie. Gie us a hug."
You point at him, a stern expression on your face. "Promise you'll behave, first. No feeling me up this time."
He gazes up at you, looking like a whipped pup. "Ayre ye mad at me, bon? Did I do somethin' bad? Ah'm sorry."
His pitiful pout melts your resolve instantly. "I'm not mad at you, Johnny. Don't get upset. Everything's alright," you soothe, voice soft as you step close to smooth your hand over his shaggy mohawk.
Ghost doesn't miss the mischievous little flash in Soap's eyes before he grins and grabs you by the hips, pulling you into his lap. You yelp, trying to be careful of his head as you try to push his face from between your breasts. The man doesn't let up, wallowing you like a fussy toddler, his big hands holding you in place. You give another yelp when he gets hold of your ass cheek and squeezes.
"Oi, ya cheeky git," Ghost barks. "Yer bein' too rough!"
Soap cuts a sly glance his way before settling his chin on your chest, smiling sweetly up at you. "Ah dinnae hurt ye, did I, bon?"
You sigh, flustered, trying to be patient. "No, Johnny. You just— startled me." You puff out a breath, prying his hand off your ass.
Soap gives Ghost a smug little smirk, hugging you so tight, you squeak. "See, LT? Ah wasnae bein' too rough. Ah jus' startled 'er."
You lay a hand on his cheek to get his attention back, melting a little more at the open adoration in his gaze. "You should still be more careful, Johnny," you chide him gently. "You get excited and grab my bum too hard sometimes. You leave bruises."
He perks up at that. "Aye? Bruises, ye say? Can ye show me? Ah promise t'kiss 'em all better."
You can't help but laugh. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
Soap nuzzles your chest and grins. "Aye, but ye love meh anyway, doan ye, bon?"
You only manage to escape when one of the nurses finally comes in to give Soap his medication and check his vitals. You scurry out the door, looking a right mess, disheveled and breathing heavy, mumbling something about getting some water.
Ghost stands by quietly as the nurse takes Johnny's vitals, eyeing him intently the whole time. Once she exits the room, Soap turns a guileless expression to his lieutenant. "Somethin' the matter, Mr. Ghost?"
Ghost huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "Give it up, Johnny. Ya fucked up, mate. She didn't catch it, but I did." He comes closer, leaning down to whisper at Soap's ear, "Or did ya jus' suddenly remember I'm yer LT?"
He chuckles lowly when Soap sucks in a sharp breath. He straightens back to his full height, looming over the now worried looking Scot.
"I'll keep m'mouth shut, so long as ya come clean wiff the captain. Poor sod's been worryin' 'imself sick over ya."
"A'right," Soap grumbles, bottom lip poking out.
You return moments later, a bottle of water in one hand, a pudding cup and spoon in the other.
"Look what I nicked for ya, Johnny. Butterscotch pudding. Your favorite."
He gives you a hangdog look. "Can we lay in bed while ye feed it t'meh? Ah'm feelin' a wee bit tired."
"Sure, love. Ghost, will ya help me get him in the bed?"
Ghost helps put him to bed without comment, but pins the sergeant with a knowing look while you're climbing into bed with him.
Soap slants a mischievous look up at his lieutenant, teeth flashing in a quick grin, and winks.
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chaosandmarigolds · 4 months
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Johnny's wedding speech
"An ya, okay, let's get this on." Johnny turns around on the chair he had placed in the middle of the dance floor, looking at the projector screen.
You were currently sitting beside your, now, husband, Ollie happily sitting in your lap and eyeing the man Simon considered his best friend.
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"AH got it!! Okay, um, yea-yea, okay, as it says I hate you." Johnny nods as everyone falters, a few coughs and panicked looks going to you. "I really hated you when I firs heard of ya, cus me and my boy- Simon-" He paused, "Sorry I'm Johnny by th' way, Simon's bud- anyway, Simon 'n I were gettin drinks and this boy looks at me 'n he- he was all weepy bout it! Reduced my man t' tears! Goin: 'Johnny, mate, i thin' I foun' her.'"
By that point everyone had realized it was bit, and a few laughs rung out.
He runs his hand down his face, "Foun' her?? Well i gotta meet 'er myself, be the judge of it."
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"For the record," he brought the mic to his mouth, his voice muffled by how close it was, "I am. I love ya, lassie. However, I do have a few bones ta pick wit ya."
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"Oh, uh..." he looks back at the projector, "My bad, didn't fini' tha slide."
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"YEAH! Yeah! when I firs met ya lassie you two might as well be joint at the hip already," Johnny frowns, "I call 'em like: 'Got tickets to th' game.' and he doesn't even let me finish! 'Sorry mate, me and my girl are sittin in and watching tha new Disney movie wi' Ollie.' or 'Nah, lad, my girl is wearin that dress I like." He gives an exasperated sigh to that as you bite back the urge to laugh to that. Meanwhile, Simon seemed to loosen up, leaning back in his chair with a bit of a smile.
"Anway- I have been rejected seventeen times for Bluey, yea. The cartoon wit the lil blue dog? Course I got tired of it so I jus come over...It makes sense now, Bluey's pretty cute."
Ollie seemed to get a good laugh from that.
There was a pause and Johnny nods again, "I don't hate you, lassie. You made my mate happy. Thank you."
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"OH! Shoutout to my boy, Oliver."
Ollie might as well as jumped up from how fast he jolted to the sight of his 'picture' (if it could be classified as a photo from how blurry it was) and he screamed with utter glee, "I LOVE YOU UNCLE SOAP."
Johnny laughs as he gets down from the chair, "I love you too, laddie."
(I DID NOT TAKE THESE PHOTOS FYI. FOUND ON PINTREST)
(Am I just buttering y'all up fro the next installment of Eek? yes. Annyway, that's all!)
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sentientcave · 6 months
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Fuck-ass Mohawk
Contains: Alcohol, smoking (cigarettes and cannabis), Soap being Soap, Ghost being Ghost, uninvited touching, tall fem reader
Short little thing about Johnny liking it a bit when you're a bitch to him (And Ghost likes it too)
868 Words ~ MDNI
You’d rather stay home and play board games, but Laurie had convinced everyone that it was a good night for clubbing. You hated clubs— The noise, the crowds, the smell of sweat and alcohol and hormones— and spent the better part of club nights standing outside chain-smoking, or crammed into a dirty bathroom stall holding back a friend’s hair as she threw up blue curacao because she didn’t listen to you when you told her to eat dinner before going out. Tonight didn’t look like it was going to end up with anyone puking their guts up, at least. Laurie’s flirting with a gorgeous hunk with a devastating smile, and Alex and Hannah are dancing, so you go out the side door into the alley for some fresh air. Or air, anyway, since the alley’s where folks go to smoke. You light a joint, because at least that will dull the effect that the sound is having on your head. It’s getting close to midnight, which at least means the night is almost over, so long as someone doesn’t drag you along to some weirdo’s house. “Hey, wha’s a bonnie thing like ye doin’ out here all alone?” A voice purrs in your ear. You jump, surprised that he could get so close with out you noticing him, especially once you turn and really look at him. He’s huge, not that tall, probably your height when you’re not wearing boots (You have about an inch and a half on him in your shit-kickers), but broad and way more muscled than anyone has any reason to be, wrapped in a too-tight shirt, and smiling at you, bright blue eyes fixed on yours with unnerving intensity. He pats your shoulder. “Didnae mean to scare ye, lass, just wanted to say hello.” You take a big step to the side, establishing a new bubble of personal space without him in it. “Well, hello,” you say dismissively. “Goodbye.” There’s a snort from a few meters away, a big fellow with a kn95 mask dangling on one ear, his hand up in front of his face, a cigarette clamped between his fingers. “Och, dinnae be like tha’, hen.” “Don’t like it?” you ask, glaring at him. “Go away. Plenty of girls in there’ll go for whatever all this is.” A sweeping, unimpressed glance from his boots and ripped jeans up to his stupid mohawk would usually do the trick, but it only made this fellow smile wider. “No’ enough fer ya? I can sweeten tha deal some. The big fella doesnae mind sharin’ a sweet lass with me noo and again. There’s plenty of ye ta go around.” “Johnny,” the big fellow in question says sternly. His mask is back in place, covering the lower half of his face. “Dun’t look like she’s interested.”
“Tha’s where you’re wrong, LT. She just doesna want to admit it. Hen’s got pride. Wants to make me work for it, right lass?” He winks at you. “No. Don’t like your fuck-ass mohawk.” You puff on your joint, keeping your face still while he splutters, indignant. “Fuck-ass mohawk?” he asks. “What do ye mean by tha’?” “I mean it looks like you have a contentious relationship with your father,” you say. Maybe you’re being a bit mean, but it’s always fun to take a cocky fucker down a peg or two. “I don’t fuck with men with daddy issues. Most of ‘em are cops or military lads.” The big guy— LT?— laughs aloud at that while Johnny’s still looking at you with his mouth hanging open. The side door opens, and your friends pile out, Laurie arm in arm with her hunk, and Hannah and Alex clinging to handsome fellows of their own. “There you are,” Laurie says. “We’re going back to Hannah’s. Are you coming?” “Uh. I guess.” Laurie beams at you, and looks up at her hunk. “Kyle, do you need to find your friends?” “Nah. These lads right here.” He gestures at Johnny and LT. with a grin. “Knew Ghost would be out here, and Soap’s always followin’ him around like the big puppy he is.” “Ah’m no’!” You fall into step at the rear of the group. You’ll probably head home rather than join them, but Hannah’s flat is on the way to your own. Johnny and his handler flank you, matching your stride when you slow down or speed up. Annoying. “So what, is the big guy your replacement daddy?” you ask. “Wha— No!” Johnny says hotly. “He’s just my lieutenant.” “Could be your daddy, if you like,” Ghost says, putting a heavy hand on the back of your neck. “Got a thing for caustic little cunts.” “Oh fuck off,” you say, trying to shove his hand off. His grip squeezes a little tighter, and you try to ignore the way that core clenches around nothing. You channel the heat into anger, and dig your nails into his wrist hard. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He grunts, but doesn’t seem all that affected by your claws. “Look at you, ‘issin’ and spittin’ like a puffed up alley cat. S’cute. But save it for later, eh? Don’t want you to tire yourself out too early.”
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suugarbabe · 7 months
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Rockstar!Sirius Black has me in a chokehold. I’m obsessed with my wife @finalgirllx and thankful for the work she put in for me for these two edits and I hope everyone is pulling their hair out at them as much as me.
This little blurb is for my second wife @thatdammchickennugget ‘s hogmarch challenge.
Prompt: fire whiskey / are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk
Warnings: fluff; mentions of bar/drinking;
You don’t really know how you got here. At this party that is. One day your muggle friend is begging you to come to a concert with her. Two weeks later she has you sleeping on a side-walk waiting to get in. “I really want to get barricade,” she says. And you love her so you comply. When you manage to get it, you’re just as shocked as she is. Arms crossed on the bar, elbows hanging over the barricade as music plays from the speakers while everyone waits for the band to appear.
You assume it’s a four person group; you see a drum set, a keyboard, a guitar with a mic stand and a bass guitar. You’re wracking your brain for the name of the band, your friends mentioned it probably a million times in the last hour alone but you’ve been so focused on not a Avada-ing any of the other millions of girls around who seem to want to keep pushing against your back to get closer to whoever this band seems to be.
It’s when the curtain falls that your heart nearly stops. It had to be a coincidence, right? The fact that this band happens to have the same name as the infamous group of pranking boys from your school years. But all your nervous fears are confirmed when they start strolling on to the stage, you recognize the others in an instant, but the one that catches your eye most intensely slings the guitar over his shoulder, a shit eating smirk gracing his lips as his tucks his hair behind his ear.
“Blimey, what a turn out, yeah lads?” The guitarist turns slightly where he stands, glancing at his friends behind him who are all nodding and shouting, pumping their fists in the air with the screams of fans in front of them. The guitarist turns back towards the crowd, eyes scanning over the sea of people until they come to the front and lock with yours. Your friend besides you starts shaking with giddy excitement as he speaks his next words into the mic, her arm hooking with yours. But you can’t tear your eyes away from his piercing gaze, “In case any of you’ve forgotten, we’re The Marauders and-”
Being barricade had its benefits because you heard the drummer shout, “Oi, Pads, get on with it, will ya, let’s give em a show, yeah?” Sirius laughs into the mic and your thrust back to being seventeen and pining after the long haired boy at the back of your advanced potions class. “Alright, Prongs, don’t lose yer head, mate. Who’s ready to fucking rock out?” Sirius strummed his guitar and the crowd erupted in cheers and screams. The entire concert was a bit of a blur. One because you didn’t know any of their songs, but two because it seemed like any time Sirius looked towards the front of the crowd, he looked right at you, and your friends and the girls surrounding you seemed to lose their mind at the concept.
When the concert finally ended you watched your old classmates take in the cheers and praise. James threw both his drumsticks into the crowd, Remus tossed a few picks as well. Reggie stepped from behind the keyboard, taking his setlist with him and passing it to the security guard to give to a random girl. Sirius, however, seemed to have a different plan. The girls around you seemed to be panting with anticipation as Sirius took a marker from a stage hand and laid down on his stomach, pulling the cap from the marker with his teeth before writing on his setlist on the ground. Capping the pen, he pulled the setlist off the ground slowly, folding the tape over the edges before folding the setlist into fours.
What really made everyone around you go into a frenzy was Sirius jumping down from the stage and walking straight up to you at barricade and holding the paper towards you with a smile. “Here,” Sirius grabbed your wrist, placing the folded setlist into your hand, “open it when you leave the venue. Was nice seeing you again, love. S’been too long since the last time.” Sirius then turned his attention to the people around you, shaking hands and signing a few autographs but it all sounded muffled to yours ears as it seemed like all the blood was rushing to your head as you were rushing out of the crowd, you friend close behind.
“Uhm, hello? Are you gonna tell me what the fuck that was back there?” You were walking as fast as you could without sprinting, your friend hot on your heels. “Y/n/n!” You turned abruptly to face her, her stopping roughly in her tracks. “What!” You were nearly screaming before taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, erm, I’m sorry. I just…I haven’t seen those guys in a long time and it was just a little…overwhelming.” Your friend nodded, the grin never leaving her face, “How do you even know them, can we open the letter now, what does it say?”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing the note from your pocket. Unfolding it you finally answered her questions, “We went to school together, believe it or not they were very popular and I was…well…not. I had a few classes with the others and well Sirius was…friends with some of my friends, let’s say. Honestly I didn’t even expect him to recognize me once I realized they were the band we were seeing and…” your thoughts and words seem to die on your lips as your eyes scanned the setlist in your hands, Sirius’s sloppy scrawl strewn across in black marker. Your friend raised her eyebrows impatiently, turning your hands towards her so she could see what had you at such a loss, a gasp leaving her as she did so. “Is that a fucking address…”
So maybe you did know how you got to this party, your friend begging and pleading until you agreed to go. “It’s only polite, he did invite you after all,” she had said. You knew her agenda was more so to gain an opportunity to see the boys up close, so you didn’t argue when as soon as you entered the private bar she immediately went on the hunt. You, on the other hand, went straight for a drink, or two, or four. You were working on yet another firewhiskey when a rough voice spoke your last name from behind you. Turning around, you attempted to control your blush, “Black. Long time no see.” You did your best to keep your tone casual, like your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest.
Per expected Sirius was nothing but charming and smooth, “I didn’t expect to see a friend in the crowd tonight, you caught me slightly off guard I have to admit.” You clasped onto your drink with both hands, hoping the coolness of the glass would offset the heat that was rapidly spreading through your body, “You consider us friends? I didn’t even think you’d recognize me.” Sirius’s gaze turned what you could only describe as tender, “I would’ve failed Advanced Charms if you hadn’t put up with me for two whole terms. If spending endless weeks in the library didn’t make us friends, what then developed between us, nothing?”
No, just my raging school girl crush on you is all. You shook your head, mouth opening and slightly stammering, no explanation coming to mind. “Pads, you’re not scaring y/n/n away are you? Gonna make us not see her for another three years again?” Sirius huffed a slightly annoyed breath, “Yeah, Moony, the reason we haven’t seen her is strictly my fault, not that our band took off or anything.” Sirius jabs a thumb over his shoulder as he glances back at you as if to say, the nerve of this guy. “She didn’t even think I’d recognize her, or considered us friends! Can you believe that?”
The taller boy greeted you with a warm and familiar smile, the scar stretching over his top lip thinning with the action, “Well I certainly don’t blame her for the latter. But we’re still friends, aren’t we, dove?” Remus took a step forward, wrapping you in a tight and friendly embrace. “Hi, Rem,” you mumbled just loud enough over the bar music. Remus was gruffly pulled away from you to reveal a pouting face with glasses and a mop of curly hair, “Not consider us friends? Did seven agonizing years of potions together mean absolutely nothing to you?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatics, “Hi, Jamie. ‘ve missed you.” You open your arms for a hug and are quickly embraced in a bear-like squeeze, “Missed you too shortcake. Been too long.” A second body joins your hug from behind, “Yeah, it’s been too long.” James pushes him off before letting you go, “Whydya have to do that Reg, you ambushed my hug.” Regulus opens his mouth to argue when a throat clearing catches all of your guys' attention. You turn to see your friend clearly doing her best not to freak out at the scene before her. You turn the the boys, pushing your friend slightly in front of you, “Guys this is my friend Órlaith. She brought me to your show. Big fan, her. Órlaith, this is Reg, Jamie, Rem and Sirius.”
The four boys all flashed award winning smiles while your friend managed a meek ‘hi’ and a slight wave. “So you didn’t just have classes with them, you were friends with the fucking Marauders,” Órlaith wacked your arm, causing James and Regulus to burst out in laughter. Remus leaned in close to your friend, a hand shielding one side of his mouth while pointing a thumb back at James, “Y/n/n, here actually helped make sure this one graduated on time.” James crossed his arms in mock offense, “Is he talking shite love? Moony, don’t fill her head with lies we’ve only just met.”
Sirius slung his arm over her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Actually, I’d like to catch up with Y/l/n. You mind if I steal her for a moment? Think you can watch these gits, keep them in line for me while I’m away?” She gave a timid nod and Sirius flashed her his knee weakening grin. Remus shot Sirius a knowing look, one you completely missed as you were too busy focusing on Sirius lacing his fingers in yours and dragging you towards a roped off section of the bar. You tried to will your palm to not be clammy as you downed the last of your drink, setting the glass on a passing table. As Sirius led you up the few steps and past the velvet rope he settled you both down at a table in the corner.
With a wave of his wrist the music and sound of the crowd disappeared. “See? A perfect silencing charm. Wouldn’t have been able to do that without your help in years past, friend,” Sirius emphasized the last word, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed slightly, eyes rolling, “Yes, I’m very proud of you. However, that hasn’t stopped the gaggle of girls staring at us.” You motioned toward at least four women you could see clearly shooting daggers your way at a private talk with the leading man. Sirius shrugged his shoulders, eyes never leaving your direction, “I don’t care about them, my focus is on you.”
Your face seemed to stay in a permanent state of blush with Sirius’s full attention solely on you. “Now tell me, sweetheart. Did you really not consider us friends all those years? I mean, I thought we were pretty close. If I recall we’ve drunkenly fallen asleep on a few couches and floors together. Who else does that besides very good friends?” You nervously summon a drink before you, taking the glass and trying to hide half your face behind it while you take a long gulp. Your eyes scan over Sirius’s face, taking in the changes, or lack thereof, from the last time you saw him.
He still has that same boyish charm, that grin the tends to sneak onto his face when he knows he’s being charming. His hair is still gorgeous, long and flowing, though maybe slightly greasier than your school years, but you’re sure that’s part of his rockstar aesthetic. His forearms now adorn multiple tattoos and from what you know of Sirius there’s probably more hidden elsewhere. He had a few more piercings now, and his jawline was more refined now that he was no longer a teenager, but what remained exactly the same was always your favorite part of him; his eyes.
Sirius always had the most captivating eyes; a deep russet brown that seemed to change with his mood and whether he was telling the truth or not. Either that or you had just spent so much time staring at him you began to figure out his tells without anyone else realizing. “You’re telling the truth, you really considered us good friends didn’t you?” Sirius laughed lightly, looking down at his lap before meeting your eyes once more, “Yes, I’m telling the truth.” You shook your head, “That wasn’t a question, it was a statement, I can tell when you’re lying. I just can’t believe you’re being serious.”
“Well I’m always Sirius, darling.” You rolled your eyes at his favorite pun, going to bring your drink back to your lips. Sirius, however, had other plans, stealing to glass from your hands and downing the rest himself. You opened your mouth to scold him but he got his words out first, “How can you – blimey, love no mixer really? Merlin’s fucking beard – how can you tell when I’m lying? I like to think I’m quite subtle at hiding the truth.” You sat up a bit straighter, tucking your legs underneath you on the couch. Normally you would never admit anything, especially not to Sirius himself, but your filter seemed to be turned off thanks to the many firewhiskey’s now running through your system.
You leaned your elbow on the back of the couch, facing Sirius now with your head resting against your fist, “Your eyes turn a shade or two darker when you’re lying. Normally they’re just this beautiful deep brown color that looks like the sun is shining directly on them, even when you’re inside and there’s not even a window in sight. But when you’re lying it’s like all the mischief you’ve got cooking in your brain is overheating and it deepens the color.” If you weren’t feeling so tipsy you probably would’ve noticed the deep blush that spread over Sirius’s cheeks. But being himself he couldn’t let you stop there, “What else have you seemed to notice over the years, huh sweet girl?”
Subconsciously you knew you’d regret it in the morning, but your ability to stop your mouth from rambling seemed to be null. “You tend to chew on your top lip when you’re concentrating, not the entire thing, just one of the corners. You did it tonight during your guitar solo, which was actually pretty fantastic. I'm very proud of you, Siri. And I only noticed you do that because it’s different from other people, usually people bite their bottom lip, but you bite your top,” Sirius touched his top lip with his fingertips as you continued, “And I know when you’re laughing just to be polite and when you’re laughing for real because your fake laugh is this polite little chuckle where you nod your head to make the other person think you’re really paying attention, but your real laugh is so much better. You throw your head back, and your hair falls from your face and it’s real hearty and deep and your smile stays bright for moments afterwards.” You let out a long sigh, your eyes keeping this distance look to them like you were recalling an exact moment for each aspect you just described. “Merlin, I was just so in…I just had the biggest crush on you back then.”
Sirius blinked a few times in disbelief, shaking his head and trying to clear his thoughts because there was definitely no way he heard what he just thought he heard, “I’m sorry, love. Are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk?” You scoffed slightly, “Excuse me?” Sirius quickly held his hands up in defense, “No, no! I just meant that – oh for Godric’s sake, I’m gonna muck this up I just know it–” You grabbed his wrists, effectively stopping his spiraling tangent, “Sirius!” He looked up at you, eyes meeting yours and just like you said, they looked like the sun was hitting them directly despite being in the back corner of a dark bar, “I never needed help with charms.”
Your face contorted in confusion, “Sorry, erm, what?” Sirius closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes once more, making sure you were looking back at him so you would see he was telling the truth, “I never needed help with charms, I would fuck up spells on purpose because I wanted to spend more time with you.” You shook your head, “But Remus said…”
“I lied to Moony,” Sirius cut you off, “Well, I tried to lie to him at first. I told him I was failing and I asked him to ask you to be my tutor but the bloody git knows everything, saying shit like ‘I know you’re at the top of our class Sirius meh meh meh’, so I asked him to lie for me.” You shook your head, “Why would you do that?” Sirius placed his hands on either side of your face, your hands still holding his wrists, “Because I had an insanely huge crush on you that I kept trying to deny and Moony could see it a mile away. I’m surprised you missed it with everything else you seemed to notice.” You smiled at him, a real genuine relaxed smile, then he spoke again, “Past tense probably isn’t the right usage. After seeing you tonight, I can humbly admit that all those feelings are very much still here. You believe me, don’t you?”
Sirius tilted your head up so you were looking directly at him. He widened his eyes dramatically, staring at you intensely and causing you to giggle. You squinted your eyes at him briefly, making it look like you were really studying him, “Hmm..clear as day. Yes, Siri, I believe you.” Sirius let out a long breath, “Thank merlin, because I’ve been dying to do this since I was on stage.” Sirius’s lips met yours with a gentle fervent, intensifying only when you fisted the front of his t-shirt, pulling him harder into you. You pulled apart only when you were short of breath, both panting heavily. “Remus is going to lose his mind,” Sirius chuckled, grin never leaving his face. You glanced over his shoulder, flicking your wrist and breaking the silencing charm only to be met with cheers and whistles so loud they floated over the rustle of the bar, “I think he already has, they all have.” Sirius turned, seeing his friends and bandmates making their way over. He turned back to you, a cheeky grin on his lips, “Okay, kiss me again, just once more before they get here. Once they do I just know James is gonna talk your ear off about the whole thing.” You giggled, biting your bottom lip before grasping the back of his neck, pulling his lips towards yours once more.
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fortheloveofkonig · 3 months
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Hello
Okay okay so i have a bit of a silly one. So i have autism and somtimes i will mimic somones accent without knowing it. Can you write a fic for Soap x Reader where he accidentally mimics soaps accent when talking.
N like he gets embarrassed and apologies sooooo much jffjfjjffjfjfjcjf and extra embarrassed because he likes the Scot 👀
Its 4am please excuse if theres any spelling errors
And i hope you have a good day!
Note: Ah, the dreaded draft which I never feel like is enough.
It's short but sweet, I may end up one day doing a part two just to add on to it. This was a cute idea as someone who also mimics accents.
I hope you enjoy it anon <3
(Oh, and the reader doesn't really apologise at all because personally, I feel weird making readers apologise for something he can't control <3)
Content: M! Reader (obv), Fluff, Reader is called Mockingbird (in a cute way)
Summary: Reader mimics Soap's accent, Soap has a hayday.
Mimicry (Soap x M! Reader)
You have been a part of the task force for a bit of time now. Enough time for the group to know that you had a tendency to mimic certain sounds that you heard but that was the length of your mimicry as far as they knew.
The group didn't seem to have issues with the sounds unless it came down to you being louder than you were supposed to be while in the field. It has become a part of their lives and they wouldn't have it any other way.
Soap was the person who started to call you by the nickname 'Mockingbird' and it eventually stuck with everyone as well. He meant it in a joking way, making sure that it didn't harm you in any way, and it kind of just stuck as you started to show a fondness for the nickname.
"Hey, birdie."
This one just made your eyes roll as you rack the weights that you were lifting and sit up on the weight bench.
"That one is a no," you respond, shaking your head which earns a laugh from the Scotsman.
"It was worth the try." He walks over and takes a seat next to you, handing you a fresh water bottle which you eagerly accept and down in a few gulps. He looks over at you as you hand him the bottle back and smiles before throwing it into the nearest garbage bin.
"Nice shot." You hum approvingly before standing up, "Lead the way, I know it's for our daily walk."
The two of you started daily walks about a month ago. Most of the time it was after a long day which left you exhausted and thus not very talkative, which was never a problem for Soap. He loved talking and that was multiplied when he had a good listener such as you.
"And that little dick walked up to him and was like, 'Try me'. Can you believe that? The fucker said that to Ghost! The fucking LT!"
He's been going on like this for an hour, you've barely gotten any words in but you didn't mind much especially since this just meant that you guys got to rest in a scenic spot while he rambled on. Every now and then you responded with one word answers but nothing too big.
He was shaking his head before starting again, "I'm telling ya, these new recruits have an insane amount of confidence and that's fucking 'em over."
You end up nodding, while looking up at the sky.
"Insane that someone would go against Ghost like that." A voice that sounds kinda like yours but with a tinge of a different accent slips out from your mouth. You didn't even realize it at first but when you looked over and saw Soap with a teasing smirk on his face, you immediately knew something slipped out.
You took a moment to regather yourself before narrowing your eyes at the Scotsman, "Shut your mouth."
"I haven't even said anything lad."
"Mhm."
"Just thought I heard a mockingbird around, haven't heard one in a while."
He was cut off by you slapping his shoulder and he just burst out laughing.
"You're an asshole." Your voice mumbles through Soap's laughter, and you start to speed ahead away from the Scottish sergeant.
"Lad, wait! Come back, it's important!"
You turn around with your arms crossed and look at the male and he points to the wooded area, he has a shit eating grin on his face.
"It's birdwatching season."
"Oh fuck off, John"
You threw your hands up in defeat and started walking away before Soap ran up to walk beside you.
He stays silent for a few minutes as they continue to walk back to base before he smiles at you and shrugs,
"Just messing with you, it's nice, really. Just gotta push your buttons a bit."
He bumps his shoulder a bit, causing a smile to spread to your face.
"If you tell anyone about this, you're dead."
"Aye aye."
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fanficfanattic · 10 months
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Just watched the Wembley confrontation approximately 30 times so I could write down the exact dialogue. And to get more of the body language and gestures down. The scene lasts for precisely two minutes. (37:07-39:07)
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James pokes his head into the room asking, “Are you decent?” Laughs as he crosses the doorway.
James walks past the security guard to enter the room, puts his thumb to his nose, before saying to the guard, “I told ya” and then to himself, “prick.” Laughs.
James is only a bit into the room before he says to the room, “Oh, gentlemen, gentlemen.” He throws his arms wide and mockingly groans before laughing again.
James is now fully into the center of the room and turns a bit to try and address all of the team. Says “Hey, it’s a tough one lads. It’s a tough one, but no shame to it.”
“Cause, you know, we only ever” pretends to tap his temple like he’s trying to remember something: “beat,” does a few feet bounces and fake little punches, “uh, everybody we play.” Laughs again.
James turns to Lasso who does the quickest fake Midwestern polite smile while Roy stands next to him stiff and angry. Will is looking over his shoulder, between the two coaches, stocking or taking out bottles from a mini fridge maybe?
“So you pups had no chance,” while once again spreading his arms. He finally looks right at Jamie and lets out a fake gasp before saying “Oh.” As though he is disappointed to see Jamie is actually standing there.
He points double finger guns at him while adding, “And there he is, my son.”
Says “My own flesh and blood” with mock grief in his voice. He stares at Jamie from half a room away, and bounces on his feet again.
“Poor Jamie, my son.”
He rocks his hips loose even as he brings his pointer finger to his nose. Does an exaggerated sniff. Then he goes back to addressing the room at large. Faces one way as he starts to talk.
“Now,” and he gestures with his right hand, then turns to take in the other side, “maybe I’m thinking his heart’s still in Manchester” and he gestures with both hands slightly towards his own chest “and that’s why he missed that sitter in the first half.” He points a finger into the air like he’s having a eureka moment.
Chuckles. Does another of his fake sympathetic groans.
“Oh ho ho.” And then lets out a little “Whew!”
Then starts tiny jogging towards Jamie while sing songing “You absolutely bottled* it.” He stops to throw his head back, arms wide, and then straightens up to slow walk closer. He laughs while saying, “You bottled it!”
Then he’s only a few steps away from Jamie and starts pantomiming some boxing moves. Ducks just a bit, has his hands in fists doing small jabs. “What were you thinking?”
Then he is right at Jamie and continues to do the small jabs, not hard, but landing like small pokes right against Jamie’s stomach. Jamie ever so slightly steps back. James pauses for half a second and then does an extra jab pushing Jamie another half step back.
James lets out a teasing “Ah ah ah.” Then “I’m only kidding, hey.” Before laughing again with a bit of a cough in the middle.
Ted does not look impressed and Roy has titled his head back a bit to squint at the man. Will is focusing on the mini fridge until James starts talking again. This time more quietly and just to Jamie.
“Hey, look, uhh…do us a favor…” and he comes back on screen as he moves his hand from his face, while sniffing, but like he’d just gestured Jamie closer or perhaps had gestured to his ear to indicate Jamie should listen to him. He continues “and get Denbo and Bug past security.”
James moves his right arm to indicate the stadium on the other side of the wall. “They wanna go on the pitch-” then he mimes raising a camera and clicking it. Jamie’s mouth turns down into a frown while his head gives the smallest shake. “-take a few snaps and all that, yeah?” Before licking his lips, letting out another sniff, and bouncing on his feet 2-3 times.
Jamie finally says something, which is to answer his dad with “I’d rather ‘em not.” He stares a hair over his father’s shoulder, not making eye contact with anyone.
James looks a bit to the side, not in embarrassment nor seemingly worried what people were thinking about his son turning his request down. More like he didn’t actually need to look at Jamie anymore.
“Yeah, they only want to look around.” And he looks back to Jamie again but it’s because he’s miming a guy jab with his left hand while saying “It’ll only take a second.” Then mimes punching him right in the jaw with a weird sound effect noise. “Doosh(?).”
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James mouth drops open into a wide grin and chuckle.
Jamie repeats himself word for word, “I’d rather ‘em not.” But he is slightly louder this time and looks right at his father. He nods his head ever so slightly.
Offscreen James responds with, “What?” Then focuses on his face returning to mockery.
“What, you’re not gonna all go moody little bitch” while looking Jamie up and down, continuing, “just cause you got your arse served to you on a plate, are ya?”
Jamie is quieter again when he responds with “Don’t speak to me like that.” Jamie is back to not meeting his dad’s eye even as James starts bouncing on the balls of his feet again.
Then he pushes a little closer in to Jamie, face seemingly open to hearing what Jamie has to say, before going “ahuh?”
Jamie repeats himself word for word for the second time. “Don’t speak to me like that.”
James repeats his “Huh?” while pressing closer again, head tilted as though to hear him better. Jamie tries to repeat himself for a third time but his dad interrupts with his own third “huh?”
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When Jamie finishes, his dad says “Huh?” a fourth time and then pulls back a minuscule amount to look Jamie in the eye.
James says to him “Okay, well,” and James lifts his right hand to flick up in the air. “-let’s see if you can hear this, hmm?”
Beard is shown in the background seething. James is still right in Jamie’s face, where he sniffs again, before leaning a bit closer as though to whisper.
“You know that ‘ickle tv show’ you made?” And makes broad gestured quotation marks even. “You just made it easier for Manchester City” He flicks the first finger of his left hand up like he’s about to count off things but instead uses it to point at Jamie while adding “to kick you to the curb!”
Then he leans back with a grin to continue mocking Jamie. He even adds a tongue waggle of his own.
“And look where you are now.” He laughs in his face. “Twaddling about with a bunch of…”
He spreads his arms wide and spins 180° to address the whole room. “…amateurs! No offense, no offense.”
No one responds to him, so he gives more of a belly laugh, and scratches the side of his nose with his right forefinger. Then turns around, leading with that finger pointing at Jamie. Who is not only not looking his father in the eye, he’s truly looking downwards for the first time.
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Then he flattens his mouth and starts to turn away with his dad going “Huh?”
James grabs Jamie’s left bicep with his own left hand, to swing him back to face him yelling “Don’t turn your back on me” then pushing Jamie while finishing with “you pussy.”
Jamie pushes off from the foot he’d stepped back from his dad with to throw his punch.
James hits the floor, palms stopping his fall, with a groan. He pushes half up onto his hip and puts the back of his hand to his face.
Jamie’s face is in a pained grimace.
He pants out “Jesus god” while glaring venomously up at his son. Which must be when he notices that Jamie is wild eyed and terrified. The grimace is gone and instead he looks stunned.
James laughs before pushing himself up to standing, Jamie’s mouth parts while his dad is saying “Oh, yeah. Okay.”
Once standing, James says “You can have that one for free.” And gets one bounce in while readying his own fist.
Which is when Beard grabs him and says “Time to go.”
While being dragged towards the door, James is still trying to fight Jamie. “You wanna go, big time. Hey? Let’s have it, Jamie!”
Beard almost has him to the door when James screams “Don’t you forget where you came from!” Then Beard gives his “watch the door” warning while pushing James’ head against the door.
Edit 2: @kaph123 asked if James said “balled it” (what cc says and I originally posted despite some questions) or “bottled it” (a more common expression). I did a relisten and it sounded like balled BUT also like the accent might be in play. @itsjustpoopeh listened with better headphones and revealed there was a bit of a stutter which indicates its most likely Mancunian consonant dropping and should be bottled. I changed it above!
Edited to add the comfort we all needed at the reminder of our tender human hearts from @thetarttfuldickhead 🤣
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kindestofkings · 11 months
Text
photographer era [2]
my lovelies this is a long one so get yourself a cuppa and hopefully enjoy!
inhalerdublin
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inhalerdublin A huge honour to be bringing our show to @officialslanecastle this summer to support the one and only @harrystyles. We should definitely shower for this one X
See you there.
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inhalerfan1 man this is so cool
yourusername WOOO ill get the boas !! @joshjenkinson_ @bobbyskeetz @elijahhewson @ryanmcmahon_15
bobbyskeetz oh lets maybe not do that
yourusername damn my small indie band aren't that small anymore
inhalerfan2 such a mood lol
yourusername posted on their story:
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elijahhewson posted on their story:
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yourusername posted on their story:
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yourusername
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yourusername these lads are about to SLAY Slane castle !!
📸 are all me baby ;))
inhalerfan1 AHH they were so so great
inhalerfan2 oh come on look at that first pic of eli, if thats not love I dont know what is !
inhalerfan3 they are making it hard to not ship em inhalerfan4 that your honour is two oblivious people IN LOVE (liked by bobbyskeetz)
inhalerdublin
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inhalerdublin We’ll never be able to fully recover from the experience of playing Slane Castle yesterday. Thank you to @harrystyles for having us open for him in such a legendary place. And to every one of you who sang our songs back to us.
See you in November Ireland x
📸 @lewevans and @yourusername
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lewevans some gig!
thescriptofficial Scenes !!!!
inhaler2 inhalerry photo when? (30 likes )
inhaler1 @username you take the best pics of them please please go on tour with them!!
(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)
inhaler2 will ONE of you close the deal , for the sake of your fans !! joshjenkinson_ @elijahhewson for the fans.... inhalerfan3 so unserious you forget they just played SLANE
harrystyles, anthonypham and lloydddddddddddddddd followed you!
yourusername
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yourusername photos of THE harry styles that I took... me cause I met harry styles over the weekend
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ryanmcmahon_15 your supposed to be our photographer
bobbyskeetz welcome home cheater
elijahhewson is one lead singer not enough for you ??
yourusername ..... yourusername you start dancing like that THEN we'll talk elijahhewson 💔💔
lloyddddddddddddddddd coming for my job but the pics are so good ill let it slide
yourusername yeah im obsessed with you and your employer please hire me <33 yourusername i can boot scoot like a pro (liked by harrystyles and hshq)
elijahhewson
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elijahhewson was a good weekend I'd say
yourusername wow yes well done that caption reaffirmed how cool you are !!
yourusername YOU JUST PLAYED SLANE YOU CAN BE HYPED evehewson such a loser
joshjenkinson_ did you do it for the fans ??
ryanmcmahon_15 👀👀 bobbyskeetz 👀👀 yourusername he did it for the fans FINALLY
inhalerfanupdates
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inhalerfanupdates photos of eli and @ yourusername have been leaked over the last few days .... are we still saying they're just friends?
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inhaler1 if I didnt think they were in love before I sure do now
inhaler2 literal evidence of my parents in love <33 inhalerfan3 for real I feel so passionately about these strangers
yourusername
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yourusername slow down more like .. go down/ soft sound/ midnight/ car lights ....
my idiot (lovable) friends are now my employers cause im joining them on tour in europe ahhh, a professional photographer some may say
bobbyskeetz war is fucking over we got ya
ryanmcmahon_15 about time!! gonna be lethal
lewevans ohh yeah cannot wait to see you in action!
(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)
yourusername too kind <33
yourusername posted on their story:
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trumanblack just followed you!
authors note: ahhh part 2 which will probs flop, shes a long one! hope y'all enjoyed, please please enlighten me on your thoughts <33
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its-time-to-write · 11 months
Note
Hiii! Sorry it’s taken me so long to read the new fic but it’s amazing!! Such a beautiful story! I love that she moved next door to Jamie’s mom. Giving invisible string vibes. But now I’m wanting the engagement story!!!
Thanks for this! Don’t know why I struggled so hard with this ask🙃
This technically can be a standalone, but this request was in light of the fic i know now it’ll pass, so check it out if you get confused😂 Thanks for requesting!
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healing me fine
“We’re going where?” you ask for the millionth time.
“Not fucking telling,” Jamie replies, also for the millionth time. “Just sit there and look pretty, babe.”
You frown at him and pull your legs up in the passenger seat of his car. He has a day off of training, and you both have been looking forward to it for a long time. Jamie took it upon himself to plan a date but he refused to give you any details other than the instructions, “Dress cute.”
So here you are, dressed cute with a picnic basket at your feet so it won’t slide around in the boot.
You ask, “How much longer?” and Jamie pretends like he can’t hear you. The nerve. The audacity. The-
“Stop thinking shit about me,” he says. He’s got one hand on the wheel and another on your thigh. You slip your hand into his and squeeze it. 
“I just like to know things,” you tell him. “You know everything about me. Why do you get to have secrets?”
He lifts your hand to kiss it, eyes still on the road. “Stop being so dramatic,” he says with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We’re almost there.”
He pulls into a gravel lot and comes around to open your door. He grabs the picnic basket in one hand and you with the other. 
“C’mon.”
You follow him down a stone path into“Lad who owns this place rents it out to people,” Jamie tells you. “Private experience, like. Fuckin’ called him like an old fart soon as I knew it weren’t gonna rain. Had to give him tickets to the next match agains Chelsea, like. Anyway, figured you’d like it.”
‘Figured you’d like it’ is the understatement of the century. Jamie’s taken you to the mist gorgeous private garden you’ve ever seen in your life. The stone path is mossy and green, and a soft breeze makes the bushes and trees rustle. It’s a good thing Jamie has a firm grip on your hand and knows where he’s going, because you’re too busy staring at all the flowers.
“Here we are,” Jamie says, coming to a stop in a small clearing. There’s a blanket laid out, and lanterns strung in the tree.
The breath feels like it’s knocked from your lungs.
“Jamie,” you gasp, “what the fuck? This is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done in your whole life.”
Jamie cocks his head. “More romantic than carrying you to a real bed at 4am instead of concrete?” 
“Yes,” comes your immediate reply. “Well, maybe not. But it’s definitely number two.”
“Thank fuck,” Jamie says. “Now if ya say ‘no,’ I’ll know it wasn’t a complete waste.”
Your brow furrows. “Say no to what?” you ask.
Jamie grins, squeezes your hand, and slips down onto one knee. He fumbles with a pocket and pulls out a small box.
“Marry me?” he asks.
“Obviously,” you reply, tears beginning to form. “How else would I sleep at night?” You smile back at him as he slides a giant diamond on your finger, then stands up to dip you in a kiss. You’re vaguely aware of clapping and when you come up for air you see Georgie and Simon . 
“I thought you were coming tomorrow!” you exclaim.
“It’s called a decoy, babe,” Jamie says. “Been planning this for fucking ages. Even got Roy to pick ‘em up from the airport. Hairy prick said he weren’t doing it for me but he’d do it for you.”
“Prick,” you agree as Georgie squeezes you in a tight hug.
Her eyes are glistening, but you’re not surprised; she’s been hoping for this since you first met.
“I’ve finally got a daughter,” she says. “I’m so happy for you, love.”
“Oi, I’m here too,” Jamie complains.
Simon pats him on the back. “You know how they get when they’re together. Better get used to it, this is how holidays are going to go.”
You’re not even paying attention because you’re too busy giggling and planning with Georgie. You catch his eye and he winks at you, which you return with a pointed blink 
Jamie shakes his head fondly. He’s sure he couldn’t have picked a better person to spend the rest of his life with.
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rookiesbookies · 9 months
Note
Seeing your hc of greek god!ghost made me think of how much of a disaster it'll be if he found someone he's into only for them to get cold easily and wears like 5+ layers everywhere they go
So I have bad circulation and a neurological condition that makes my extremities get very cold, which is why I believe I am qualified to write this. There’s nothing I love more than grabbing my partner with my cold fingers or touching him with my cold feet, my friends are also victims. As I write this one of my hands is ice cold and the other is a completely normal temp. Wish he was here so I could rub my hands over where he’s ticklish and make him shiver (im evil)
I had a lot of fun writing this ask, I do want to do more with this AU later so I love getting asks about it but I do need to clean up my master list😭
Fic under the cut
Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!
Price was sent a younger maiden one other time. She had been just under the age he liked and he truthfully believed she would work better with someone else.
SO he delivered her to Simon’s doorstep in the underworld. Simon looked through the peep hole to see you holding a pie and a note from Price. When he opened the door and read the note (something along the lines of : she’s too young for me but seems more like your type) he tried to shut the door. Luckily for you, the future mother in law was there - Persephone was not having any of her son’s shit.
She quickly read the note herself and set you down, sending Simon to go make tea while she got a good look at you. Poor thing, so nervous, dropped on this doorstep, she wasn’t having any of it.
Then she noticed how cold your hands were and cursed her husband for giving their son such cold hands, he was always so clammy he just had to pass it on.
She quickly yelled for Simon who rushed in with the tea, telling him to start a fire.
You tried to tell her it wasn’t a problem with a nervous smile and laugh but she wouldn’t listen. So you told both you didn’t want to be a bother.
“Ya think yer cold?” Simon said sharply before grabbing your ankle with an ice cold hand from the floor where he was sitting trying to start the fire, the sudden chill made you let out a soft shriek. He giggled behind the mask.
Persephone saw that. She heard it too.
“I'm calling Hades and we’re planning the wedding!”
Simon’s eyes bulged out of his head.
“I can’t marry someone I’ve just met,” you awkwardly laughed between sips of tea.
“Well it takes time to plan a wedding, you’ll both know each other quite well by the time it comes around!”
Simon groaned, “just because you and Hades-”
“Shush!” And Simon shut up quickly.
And with that, Persephone fled the house.
“I would have thought because of how she was taken by Hades-”
“Stockholm syndrome, I'm sure of it,” Simon grumbled. Pulling off his fur cloak and throwing it over you. “I’ll sleep on the couch until I can sort this out.”
“Oh but I can’t take your bed from you-”
“Did I ask?”
You shake your head and quietly sip your tea.
Now lets time jump just a bit. Assume they both bond at some point and a month or so passes, they’re trying to cuddle, right?
There’s nothing that brings Simon more joy than torturing you with his cold hands. Making you whine and shove them under your arms to warm them.
“You’re colder than a dead body!”
“Why do ya think the lads call me Ghost, love?”
After more time, he chooses a new favorite place to warm his hands.
“Simon, we are at dinner! You can’t do that in front of others!” You hushly yelled at him.
“Come on, they’d be jealous that's all, not judgin ya!” He laughed.
“Simon this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled. His hands gently holding your tits. One hand over each.
“It’s my favorite place to warm em.” He shrugged then grumbled. “Plus Johnny made a comment about ya rack and I gotta remind him whose it is.”
You let out a whine, “your hands are so cold! I didn’t sign up for temperature play!”
He chuckles, “here, I’ll distract you. Two goldfish are in a tank-”
“You’ve told me this one so many times,” you giggled as he massaged your chest with his cold hands. You smacked his hand, “I'm only doing this to warm up your hands, this isn’t touchy time.”
He groaned in disappointment. “Price wouldn’t notice or care!”
“Oh he definitely would, especially if it was at his dinner table!”
“What are ya love birds whisperin on about?” Johnny holard from the other room.
“SHUT.” Was all Simon had to yell back.
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highinmiamiii · 3 days
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NO FEELINGS - ch. 1
a billy butcher x reader story
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years after a wild love in 90s London, Butcher runs into his past flame at that same grimy Nevada steakhouse he’d told Hughie about. Where he’d wanted to go with Len since they were lads. Tension, unspoken history, and unresolved feelings simmer as both grapple with what they've become.
(A/N): this is just a short little vague introduction. feedback is appreciated as always—let me know what you think! and if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just drop a comment. thank you for the support, i cannot wait to get really started on this. prelude chapter set in 90s london soon…
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Butcher slid into the worn leather booth of the topless steakhouse, the place he’d told Hughie about. The one he’d always wanted to visit with Lenny. He wasn't sure what drove him here now, maybe the weight of unfinished promises, or the itch of an unfinished life, maybe a celebration for finally having the key to end this all. Kessler—his ever-present darker conscience—sneered from across the table, leaning back like he owned the place.
“Celebratin', are we? Makin’ a toast to not being a dead man... yet?" Kessler’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Maybe crack a cold one open to that virus, eh? Damn good reason to have a drink.”
Butcher ignored him, waving down the waitress instead. The place smelled of grease, burnt meat, and the faint, familiar scent of desperation—Nevada in all its glory. The steakhouse was a dive. Dim lights, gaudy neon signs, waitresses in barely-there outfits serving patrons who barely looked alive. It felt appropriate, a place where he could fade into the noise and booze.
His mind kept drifting back to Lenny, to the promises they made as boys. But Lenny was long gone, and Butcher was still here. Breathing. Existing. Barely.
“What’s the point, mate?” Kessler drawled, a smug grin tugging at his lip. “You’ve come this far, might as well end it on a high note. Wipe ‘em all out—‘every last one’ like ya said, whoever’s left. Ain’t no room for savin’ the day, Billy. That ain’t you.”
Butcher lit a cigarette, ignoring the imaginary weight of Kessler's presence. He hadn’t come to make decisions tonight—he just needed a moment to exist outside the war he was fighting, the war inside himself.
That’s when the waitress appeared. He barely looked up from his drink as she spoke. A raspy, tired voice offered him a menu, but it wasn’t her voice that caught him—it was the ink on her arm.
There, on her inner upper arm, was a faded “Never Mind the Bollocks” tattoo. The same damn Sex Pistols tattoo he’d drunkenly convinced the girl who he’d thought would be the love of his life to get years ago in London.
The memories hit him like a punch in the gut.
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🇬🇧 London, 1990s 🇬🇧
They’d met at some dive punk show, a dingy pub filled with misfits, and she had been the loudest voice in the room. She wasn’t British, that much was clear. Her accent, her defiance—everything about her screamed rebellion. She’d saved for years just to get to London, to live the life she’d always dreamed of. But the reality was different. Money was tighter, dreams crumbled under the weight of the city’s indifference, and the romantic notion of freedom faded with every job rejection and overpriced rent.
Butcher had been drawn to her fire—an American girl with grungy style and stubborn resolve. She reminded him of himself. Bold. Fearless. But unlike him, she still had a dream. That dream had kept her going.
They’d spent nights stumbling through the streets of Camden, getting drunk on cheap lager, ranting about the world’s injustices. And then one night, after too many drinks and too many laughs, he’d dragged her to a tattoo parlor.
“Go on then, love, don’t be a priss, get the ink. Bollocks to it,” he’d slurred. And she had. The tattoo was a reminder of their wild nights, of a time when the world felt theirs to conquer.
But then Lenny had died. His world crumbled. Butcher became a ghost of himself. He stopped answering her calls. Stopped showing up. Not because he didn’t love her—but because the weight of grief suffocated any connection he’d had to the world, to her. Seasons faded, savings ran out, friend groups grew apart and suddenly she was back in the states, no sign of his presence or existence in sight but the small reminder of what they had, or rather, what could’ve been, on her left arm.
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He looked up at her now, and something in his chest tightened. She didn’t recognize him—not immediately. He looked different. Older. Weathered. And she? She’d aged too, but there was still a flicker of that fire behind her eyes, dulled perhaps, but not gone.
Butcher felt Kessler smirking at him from across the table, his voice low and mocking. “Well, well... Looks like fate’s a real bastard, huh? Fancy seeing her here. What’s next, a reunion? Gonna sweep her off her feet again? You ain’t that guy anymore, Billy. We both know it”
He wasn’t. He couldn’t be.
The waitress set his drink down, her expression neutral, maybe a little bored. But her eyes lingered on him for a second too long. Butcher’s gut twisted. Did she know? Or was it just a flicker of memory, a hint of recognition buried beneath the years?
He offered her a smirk. “Nice ink.”
she cocks her head back, taking a long deep breath, knowing he’s likely noticed by now as much as she didn’t want him to. she’d spent so long trying to erase him from my memory, she felt so foolish for letting myself fall so deeply in love with him all those years ago. she rests her hand on her hip and adjust the very thin white tank top they had her working in, thank god no one had tipped me enough to take it off yet, this place was fucking dehumanizing. even more embarrassing to see butcher here after all these years, she never thought she’d see him again, thought they’d be separated by continent for the rest of time. Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t bite. “Old mistake,” she said, her voice clipped, as if daring him to say more.
“Looks like she remembers,” Kessler snickered in his head.
Butcher leaned back, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. “Aren’t we all just walkin’ mistakes?” He said with a deep sigh.
She didn’t answer, just shot him a look—a look with all the bitter undertones he deserved. But she didn’t say a word, and as she walked away, he could feel the weight of the past settling in the pit of his stomach.
“Last thing she wants is to hear from you again man” Kessler’s voice taunted in his ear.
Maybe. But for the first time in years, Butcher wasn’t sure he wanted to.
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She walked away, heart pounding. She knew. God, she knew the moment she saw him. Those goddamn eyes and stupid cocky wide smirk she’d fallen for all those years ago. The snarky demeanor that kept her going until one day he was gone. The way his eyes widened when he saw the tattoo was a dead giveaway, but it was the way he carried himself—the same stoicism, the same haunted look behind those eyes. Billy Butcher, of course. Great.
She’d spent years trying to forget. And now here he was, like some ghost from the past, sitting in the sleaziest steakhouse in Nevada, looking like death warmed over. Part of her wanted to slap him, to scream at him for leaving, for abandoning her without a word after Lenny’s death. But she knew she had gotten too attached. It’d been what, a year together? How dumb of her to think or believe that it would’ve ever been more than a fling. She had to come back to America eventually, they both knew the jig would be up soon, she just hadn’t expected it to end so abruptly.
So instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat, wiped the grimy table next to his, and said nothing.
This wasn’t London. She wasn’t the girl she used to be. She’d been young, stupid, and hopelessly in love. Now she was just... tired. Working for tips in a place that smelled like old beer and regret, serving men who didn’t care enough to look her in the eye. This was what her life had come to. And seeing Butcher again only twisted the knife deeper.
But no. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt her. Not yet. Not ever.
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Butcher watched her walk away, a strange heaviness settling over him. The memories of London were sharp, but the reality in front of him was sharper. She’d changed. So had he.
“So what now?” Kessler whispered. “Stick around? See if you can fuck things up again? You’re real good at that, ain’t ya?”
Maybe. But something in him, something deep and stubborn, made him want to stay. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something worse. Whatever it was, Butcher wasn’t leaving Nevada. Not yet.
He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, his eyes following her as she disappeared into the back. Whatever had brought him here tonight—fate, coincidence, or just bad fucking luck—he wasn’t walking away from it.
Not this time.
current tags: @sickforbillybutcher
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ask-the-royal-absol · 2 months
Note
Linda@Flint: "You know you're actually right about this kid being funny." The dragoness chuckled as she points her thumb at Destino. "I hear he's gotten himself into shit a few times cause people take 'em the wrong way. But it sounds like you know a bit about this absol already. You probably know about this prophecy involving him too. But I'm gonna be honest..." She trailed off as she looked around the room, appreciating the size and décor. "I'm a bit more interested to hear about this kingdom you're running. How far would you say it reaches and how long have you been running it? If it's anything like this castle then I bet it's pretty impressive."
Flint: Them. You use them, don't you?
Destino: Sure do. Suits me better.
Flint: Thought so. So, you wanna know about the kingdom? Hey Magmar, could you get the maps please? It'd be easier to show off our kingdom with it.
Magmar: As you wish, your highness.
*With a bow, Magmar ran quickly off into one of the rooms located on the side. Flint continued from where he left off.*
Flint: I've been running this kingdom for a good 30 years now. Inherited it from my father. It was difficult to take his place, I'll admit that. He had a...notorious reputation. But hard work is enjoyable work and work I certainly have. This kingdom is now thriving better than it ever has done before. It has to be partially thanks to the Underdark for allowing us access to their ores. Without those, I imagine many Pokémon wouldn't evolve into their final forms or perhaps even know about them.
Destino: At least we get some appreciation.
Flint: Of course your kingdom does. Our success depends on your trade relations with us.
*Flint caught a glimpse of something emerging from Destino's fur. Something purple. It took him by surprise when this shape formed into that of a creature.*
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*Hope stepped up beside her father, knowing he'd never actually seen a ghost type before.*
Hope: Yeah, that's Destino's best friend. Felix. He tagging along too. He's a ghost type.
Felix: And poison. Ghost and poison.
Destino: Felix, out.
Felix: Sorry pal.
*Felix carefully left Destino's fur, making sure to pat down any loose strands. He knew how much Destino liked to keep themselves well groomed and he didn't want to cause them anymore frustration. He levitated next to the Prime. The king tried to settle himself. It was hard to when a mysterious visitor decided to appear from the long mass of fur on Destino.*
Flint: Wow. A real ghost! An actual ghost! That's not something you see everyday! At least, not up here.
Felix: Ghost type. Not a ghost.
Flint: What's the difference?
Felix: Ya see, I ain't dead. Just have abilities that resemble those of spirits.
Flint: Fascinating! I'll have to pick at you for more information about that! Anyway, yes. We could very well mine elsewhere. That's true. However, I'd much rather have the miners know they're going to be able to mine some ore, even if it is a small quantity of it. If they went somewhere new because our trading system broke down somehow, it'd mean we wouldn't necessarily be certain a days worth of mining would harvest results. The guarantee for resources is more valuable and more cost effective for me and the mining companies I work closely with.
Destino: So, without access to our resources, you'd be screwed over? Ha, I knew our kingdom was valuable to the surface. Serves you lot right for locking us away.
Flint: This kingdom tried to fight for your freedom, kiddo. We just unfortunately failed.
Destino: Clearly you didn't fight hard enough then.
Flint: Type advantage is a powerful thing, Prime.
*With a stream of panting, Magmar appeared from behind the king, holding what looked to be a beautifully adorned tube.*
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Flint: You did well! Don't you worry too much about it! Which one is this?
Magmar: Land map. I've got the city map rolled up in there too, incase you need it.
Flint: And that's why you're one of the best advisors I've ever had! Good lad! Let's crack this open!
*Flint took the tube with the tips of his claws, unscrewing the deep blue cap from it. With claws that big, there was a little struggle for those fine motor movements but Flint was able to eventually get it off. He gave one of the maps back to Magmar who delicately put it back in the engraved tube. Flint then unrolled the perfectly kept map. It was surprising how neat it looked. No tears, no wear marks, no ageing either. It looked almost brand new.*
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Flint: Now this right here is the land you stand upon. We are right here.
*He pointed at the dot labeled 'Terrestria'.*
Flint: And the land all around it is the land I govern. You see those black lines? There the boundaries of my kingdom and will one day belong to Hope.
*Using his claws, he traced the upper right corner of the landmass marked on the map.*
Hope: One day. You've just gotta give me the title first.
Flint: Yeah. It'll come, don't you worry about that. Now, the most interesting part about this is the city is called Terrestria and the kingdom, so everything inside of this area, is also called that too. I'm honestly not sure of the reasoning for that, you'd have to ask a historian or something.
*Destino stared at the map, looking at all of the features it had to show. They saw the rocky structure their group appeared from. This kingdom was absolutely huge. Compared to the Underdark, this was massive. Ridiculously so. Imagine all of the resources this land had to offer. All the space that could be given to its citizens. Destino knew their parents obtained an ok amount of foods and other items from Terrestria though it was never enough to feed absolutely everyone. Considering the amount of trip their parents took, no wonder they decided to continue their trade relations with this kingdom. Destino felt as though their kingdom had been cheated out on more. If they had this much to offer, why wasn't the Underdark given more? There was a growing sense of anger inside of Destino. They had to keep it together.*
Flint: You'll also notice that it's the smallest kingdom compared to the others. There's debate on whether Mechania or Terrestria is bigger but Mechania does seem like the larger kingdom. Naaturo has the largest kingdom but that's because it does the majority of food production. Queen Pollen is incredibly good at keeping her food supply lines going for the rest of the kingdoms. Whimsain also has a substantial amount but they won all that during the Great Type War. Can't really shift the boundaries of our kingdom as we don't want another war going on but it'd be nice to get a little more land to work with. Hope that answers what you wanted to know.
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Flint: That's right. It's not completely public knowledge so I'd keep it on the hush-hush when you're outside these castle walls.
Destino: Wait, nobody outside even knows about this?
Flint: Only certain Pokémon do. If we spread knowledge of this union around, it'll end up in the ears of the Whimsain lot and we'd be in a distortion of a lot of trouble. It'd mean we couldn't provide any of our end of the bargain to you.
Destino: My lips are sealed, Flinto. Dunno if I could trust any of these idiots with this information but you do you.
*Flint looked towards Gizmo and Mouse, determining whether they could be trusted with this. He was usually a pretty good judge of character and they didn't seem like the type to spread something like this around. Flint made a mental note to send a couple of spies to watch and observe them for any suspicious activity. With a sigh, he felt he could deal with the risk well enough.*
Flint: Our union was established around 400 years ago. King Alumin of Terrestria and King Estavior of the Underdark met when the Terrestrians were trying to find a new mining route and agreed on a collaboration between the two kingdoms would be beneficial between the both of them.
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Flint: Estavior allowed Terrestrians access to their mines, which we found out later on was a guarantee to harvest ores for evolution stones. Alumin offered foods and other resources for this. Kind of him but it's really helped us out in the long run. We've been going strong since then. Ores are super useful for us as we've got the knowledge to turn them into evolution stones. The ores of these stones are incredibly dangerous when raw.
Destino: We had one of our citizens try to use one of the ores scattered around. She did not recover from the deformations caused. So much energy and power to be harnessed. Honestly, if I had an ounce of interest in the matter, I'd be curious as to how I could use that power for myself. A spotlight for my own. That could be good. Always showing the most important Pokémon in the room.
Hope: Of course you'd say that. Surely there could be other things that the energy produced could be used for rather than yourself?
Destino: And what would be the point of that? Honestly Hope, you're not thinking of the bigger picture here. A spotlight. For me. It's a fantastic idea.
Felix: Des, perhaps we should draw the focus back to the King? This is interestin' stuff.
Destino: And bring the conversation back to something dull? Come on Felix. You know it'd be far more interesting talking about how I would use these ores if I wanted to use them.
Flint: Point is, these ores are dangerous when not cut into shape and we're able to turn them into something useful for everyone. The trade union is something that benefits both sides, even with the danger of being discovered. Perhaps you should take more interest in your history, young Prime. If you don't learn about it, you may make mistakes which could lead to the downfall of your kingdom if you're not careful.
Destino: Me? Making mistakes? Ha, that's hilarious. I doubt it.
*The map of Arkaedia is now available.*
@askiceboundlopunny @masked-vee
(6/6 - No more questions for now.)
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megsiepoo · 3 days
Text
Promise
Finlay sat impatiently inside Drill Ops, riding the small high of success. It had been a slim chance, but by God, Brodie's plan had worked. The Beira D, while still a collapsing pile of shite, was floating freely in the water and the threat of drowning from the sinking rig was, at least temporarily, postponed. The only thing to do now was to wait for Caz and Brodie to return so they could figure out a way to get the hell off the vessel.
A part of her still wondered if they were making the right choice. She knew in her heart that it would spell disaster is that thing managed to spread, and she was always right. But Brodie had done his damndest to quell her fears, and with their newest endeavor going smoothly, perhaps it was OK to allow herself to believe. After all, hadn't they been through enough already? Someone with more artillery and training could take care of the beast, the navy or whatever; she just wanted to get home and see her son again.
The howls of those who'd been changed echoed in the distant darkness sending a chill down Finlay's spine. She felt awful for the poor bastards; most of them had been good friends on this miserable heap of junk. But there was nothing that could be done for them. It was a bloody miracle she was still alive at all, let alone that she had company. A pity that Roy's diabetes took him out, though morbid as it was, he got one of the easy deaths.
As her mind spun with thoughts, the phone rang, jolting her to attention. She sat up in her chair, every nerve on high alert as she reached forward. She hadn't expected one of the lads to call, but maybe one of them was just holed up hiding somewhere. She picked up the receiver and cradled it against her palm.
"Aye? Who is it?"
"It's Brodie. Finlay I-"
"The bloody hell are ya calling for? You should just about be here by now. Muir giving you trouble? Figured he was still roaming about somewhere."
"Finlay, I'm...," he paused, taking a deep breath. Dread crept up Finlay's spine, the quaver in his voice making her skin crawl.
"Brodie? What is it, what's wrong?"
"I'm not gonnae be making it back to you." Finlay's breath hitched, the receiver beginning to tremble in her hand.
"What do ya mean? Need someone to come get ya? If it's one of them bloody monsters I'll come tear em to pieces myself."
"I'm still in the pontoons. It's... it's already flooding in here. I can't make it through."
The pair fell silent as the gravity of the situation set in. Finlay had to admire Brodie; for a man whose death was only minutes away, he was remarkably calm. She, however, was not. Her grief already seemed insurmountable, but beneath it was a frothing rage.
"I told you this wouldnae bloody work," she growled into the phone.
"Hey now, don't be saying that," Brodie chastised. "You and Caz, you can still get away. I knew the risks coming down here, but hope isn't lost yet."
"And what happens when we do get away?!" Finlay roared. "We escape and then what? This thing gets back to land and kills everyone else? How far are we going to let this spread in the name of saving our own skins? Who's to say we'll find a way off this damn rig at all?"
"You have to try."
"Why?"
"Because otherwise, we all died for nothing. Otherwise, no one will know about any of this," Brodie stated. "Face it, Finlay, even if you blow that monster up and yourself along with it, there's no guarantee that'll kill it." Brodie's voice softened, taking a gentler, pleading edge.
"I may not be making it out of here, but you and Caz can. You're strong, you both are. He's gonna need you Finlay. Promise me you'll try, please? Promise me, promise you won't give up."
Finlay opened and closed her mouth a few times, fighting for words. She couldn't make that promise. Maybe sacrificing herself to roast that fucking creature wouldn't kill it, but she knew she needed to try. But that's not what Brodie needed to hear, not now.
"A-all right, Brodie. I'll... I'll try."
"Good," he hummed, relief evident in his tone. Then, "You'll stay, won't you?" he asked, his voice small like a frightened child's. "Y-ya won't leave he here alone, right? I'm... Christ, I'm terrified, I-" He took a shaky breath, fighting to steady his voice. Finlay didn't think her heart could break anymore than it already had, but somehow, it found a way.
"I'm right here, Brodie. I'm not going anywhere.
I promise."
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brineoffire · 1 month
Text
Aaaaay part 3? Also yall lemme know if you have any thoughts about Roland and his antics or questions about the fic. I'd love to hear anything yall have to say, literally anything lmao
Last part:
Clean Barracks
Price is the first to walk in flanked by two more man, one with darker skin, one with a short mohawk. You can't help now your eyes linger on both of them just as long as you stared at Ghost's mask when you arrived. You sit staring for a beat too long when you hear said man clear his throat from across the room. Shaking your mind clear you stand at attention.
"Sirs, Roland Haven reporting for duty." Price chuckles and pats your shoulder as he passes to the front of the room, and the other two share a glance before the mohawked one looks to Ghost. "Oi, take et easy on em yeah LT? Dun' wana scare the runt off a'fore we ge' a goo' look ah him." You hear a grunt in response as the other guy steps closer. "Don't let 'im worry ya much recruit. 'Es got a mean streak in 'em." He holds his hand out. "Garrick. You can call me Gaz." You give him a nod as he moved past you to an empty seat. The Scott with the mohawk taking his spot in front of you.
"Mctavish lad. Call me Soap, an' eye fer one am 'appy ta see a fresh face."
"O' coarse you are Johnny. Jus' means someones 'ere ta' faff about more then you."
"Oh piss off Ghost."
"Alright boys, settle now."
They all quiet down, looking to Price at the front of the room.
"Now you've all met the new recruit. E'yve picked him out personally, so any issues will be brought up ta me here and now." Price barks out.
The three of them look to each other, Gaz and Soap give each other a shrug and a nod respectively before Ghost speaks up.
"Cap'n c'mon now. Do we really need fresh meat slowin' us down?" Ghost still stands near the back of the table, his arms crossed firmly. There's a grunt from Price as he nods again.
"Aye, he won't slow us down. Kid's got good reflexes an' some skills we could use with us on the feild. Has better tech knowledge then the lot of us, an' 'es got a quick foot." You're surprised with how easy it is for Ghost to give in with a shrug. Looking around again, no one speaks up and you bite your tounge this time before going on about dumb luck, knowing Price would shut that down real quick.
"Alright. Tha's settled then. Soap, I want ya' taking him through basics with ya'. Geh him used to the daily routine. Gaz after tha' I want ya' gettin' 'im up to speed with the systems."
"Aye Captain." "Yes Sir."
Price nods his head.
"Good. Keep on yer' toes as always lads. We may 'ave a break now but keep active."
"Rite then. Les' have a go newbie." Soap calls out, beckoning for you to follow. The two of you end up heading to out to the training feild as he points out the average days exercise. You nod as you follow along, it's mainly cardio and upper body workouts. The cardio? Easy peasy. You've never skipped leg day and you aren't about to skip it now, but the pull-up bar? That was going to take some getting used to, especially seeing as how they wanted you to eventually lift twice your weight with you. God dammit that pull-up bar was going to be your nemesis for the next several months. Soap notices your solemn stare at the bar and grins wide.
"Was' the matter? Not used ta' 'eavy liftin'?"
You shake your head and sigh.
"Not at fuckin all. In fact I hate upper body. With a passion sir." Soap barks out a laugh and pats you on the shoulder.
"Ah, 'ull geh used ta it all soon dun'a worry!"
"I ain't worried, but I can and will complain the whole time." He laughs again and shakes his head.
"Alright then! Les' start with fifty plus on them bars then yeah?" You groan loudly as the two of you walk over to the bar, Soap dropping a fifty pound weight underneath it. Begrudgingly, you set yourself up for the set of reps that will no doubt bring you nothing but sore muscles and regret.
After the pull ups Soap leads you through a several mile run with some hurdles and inclines then the two of you head off for a quick rinse, have breakfast, and you're off with Gaz. He leads you to a small tech room loaded with computers and various communication devices. Looking through the setup you get the gist of what you're working before Gaz even tells you anything. It's easy for you to follow along with his explanations as you get yourself logged into the new setup.
"So how'd the cap find you ey?" He asks while he watches you set up your info from over your shoulder.
"Ah. I helped him outta a tight spot at the last base I was at. Couldn't say no to the pay at all."
Gaz raises a brow.
"You joined for the pay then?"
"I couldn't really say no. Got a shit ton of student loans an shit. Ain't got much else to do for this amount of money." He nods his head thoughtfully.
"Alright then. Jus' don' let us catch ya eyin' enemy offers yeah?" That gets a laugh out of you as you look over to him.
"Naw. I wouldn't know how ta deal in dirty money either way. Besides, I wouldn't be workin' this hard ta pay back my schools if I was just guna go dark side." He laughs along with you and pats you on the shoulder as the two of you finish setting everything up and going over the rest of the equipment.
So far so good, you think to yourself as you head back to the barracks with Gaz afterwards. You're already making a note of the schedule in your head, going over it to yourself as the two of you catch Ghost at the next door.
"Ah. Good timin' then new blood. We're havin' a spar before you get ta lunch." You stare at him for a second blankly before your face scrunches.
"E-excuse me?" Ghost's eyes betray the smirk under his mask as his arms cross over his chest again.
"Didn't stutter. Your ass to the trainin' feild. Now."
You spare yourself a look over to Gaz who shrugs at you apologetically. Looking back to Ghost you nod.
"Understood." And off you go to get your ass handed to you by a giant man in a skull mask. Yay...
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jinxxangel13 · 6 months
Text
Phantom of the Night
Chapter 5
Sorry about missing the last update! I'm finally getting back on track, and I'm super excited for these next couple chapters! Thank you, everyone, for being so patient with me!
Tw: blood, gore, minor character death, guns
~Masterlist~ ~Prev~ ~Next~
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Recap:
“7-6, task a bird for casualty evac.”
Everyone could feel the solemn energy around the team, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it until they finished their objective.
Bravo 7-6: called back a short, “Rog'.”
Ghost rolled his shoulders back, allowing himself a moment to take inventory of his equipment before instructing the others to do the same.
“Get yourselves sorted. Hassan is still the target.”
Soap nodded, almost bouncing on his feet next to Phantom.
“Aye. Let's go get this fucker.”
Phantom rolled her eyes, switching her goggles for a pair of discarded NOD’s that miraculously survived the crash. She walked over to the body of one of her comrades, muttering a soft prayer before removing his ear piece to be able to finally connect it to her radio pack that had minor damage done to it. 
“Alright. Alpha- you're with us.” Ghost walked by Phantom, tapping her left shoulder in a silent command to follow along.
“Roger that, Lieutenant.” 
“Let's move out. Keep near, lads. You too, Captain.” Ghost could see the dangerous glint in Phantom’s eye more clearly before she flipped her night vision down like everyone else.
Ghost, Soap, Phantom and Alpha 0-2 started their trek with the rest of Bravo team down to their next objective: a small cluster of buildings opposite of where they came from. 
Phantom was glad she took the adrenaline shot, lest she be practically dead on her feet. Her grip on her rifle tightened as she followed closely behind Ghost as they all ran across the dark field, weaving their way around the wooden posts and ruined stone walls littered about.
Alpha 0-2 finally voiced what all of them were thinking. 
“Those fuckers used us as bait, didn't they?
Phantom could finally hear over the radio, making her grateful that hers wasn't completely shattered during the crash.
“They're well-supplied and fighting smart. Thanks to Hassan.” Ghost called back.
“Aye... Looks like you were right, L.T. You think Hassan's still here?”
Soap had made it up to Phantom and Ghost, sliding in between them as they continued their way down the hill, finally coming into view of the buildings.
“Helo crash gave 'em an opening.”
“Guess we’ll see if they took it.” Phantom called out over coms, slowing down with the rest of their team.
Overhead, the group watched one of their fighter jets fly overhead as another voice called over the radio.
“Flyboys are still on station.” 
“Rog.’ Visual on building three.”
Ghost nodded his head towards Phantom as they continued their way towards the building, not going as fast as before, and more cautious now that they are within eyesight.
“That’s our target. Hassan could be inside.” Ghost lowered his voice as they all crept forward in the darkness; their NOD’s all across their eyes to help traverse the environment.
A shot rang out towards the team, hitting one of the Marines. 
“Down!” Phantom called as she dragged Soap down with her, the rest of the team dropped to the ground quickly as well.
Ghost’s voice rang out in everyone's ears loudly.
“A.Q. sniper on the roof! Get down! Soap, take out the shooter! Rest o' ya stay low until we're all clear!”
Phantom got her rifle ready just in case, but it wasn’t necessary as Soap dropped the lone sniper, who proceeded to fall forward off the building.
“Sniper down!” Soap called out, allowing everyone to slowly crawl forwards.
“Who’s hit?”
Phantom looked to her right, seeing the downed marine with his rifle a few feet away; poor kid didn't even get a chance to defend himself.
“7-5 is down!”
Another shot rang out just as Phantom caught sight of the green laser pointing in her direction after catching the flash of her scope.
“Shit!”
Phantom rolled onto her side as she shouted out, grabbing onto her left arm tightly.
“Phantom’s hit!. More snipers on the roof. Take them out!”
She growled out in pain, letting go of her arm to grab some binding from one of her vest pouches. Phantom haphazardly, but tightly, bound the oozing gash to hopefully prevent more damage to the appendage. Luckily the bullet wasn't lodged into her skin, mostly just a graze; a nasty one at that, but a graze nonetheless.
“I’m fine!” Phantom radioed in as she turned herself back onto her stomach with her rifle close to her.
The pain wasn’t the worst she's dealt with, but shooting is going to prove as a difficulty. Phantom lined up her shot in between her arm shaking, using the ground to help steady her, and let her finger pull the trigger.
“Sniper down. I got you covered, Ghost!” Phantom called over, staying flat on the ground to take down the AQ snipers that just seem to be flooding to the roof.
Soap and Phantom stayed next to each other as they continued to cover the team while the enemy soldiers fiercely defended the third building.
“AQ's dug in here-- Whatever they're defending, it's fuckin' big!” 
The two of them made their way forward in a crouched position, coming up behind the rest of Bravo team.
“We're getting chewed up out here!”
“AQ's pressing hard-- If Hassan's not here, what the hell is?” Soap sounded confused, but so was everyone.
What the hell could AQ have here if Hassan wasn’t even here?
“We're not getting through here without air support!”
“7-6! I want fire on that building now!” Ghost’s voice rang out again, frustration, and maybe desperation bleeding through his tone.
“Ghost, we don't know if Hassan's in there!” Phantom kneeled down next to him.
“They're forcing our hand! 7-6, hit that building but don't level it.”
“Kilo 0-1. Call for fire. Target is in the building ahead of us. Do not level the building.”
“7-6, copy that, making our run.”
“Force up to that wall! Move!”
Phantom quickly followed his lead, sticking close to him and Soap, trying her best to ignore the painful throbbing in both her skull and left arm. The group made it behind a short stone wall as they waited for air support. The wall provided little cover, but at least it was something.
Phantom peeked out from the side of the wall on Ghost’s left side, her eyes lighting up as a few explosions rang out around the building following the air support firing on it.
“Fucking stunnin.’” Phantom mumbled out.
“A glorious sight.” 
She could hear Soaps' impressed laugh as their team continued watching for a moment before Ghost gave the word to continue forward.
“Yeah, hope Hassan's still in one piece…” Alpha 0-2’s voice rang out.
“Several pieces'll do. Easier to find that way... All Bravo, move up. I want this building locked down. Lead us in, Captain. Soap, make entry. Let's find Hassan. Dead or alive.”
 Phantom shouldered her sniper favor of her M16 for closer combat and stayed on Ghost’s left side until they got to where the front door would have been, had it not got blown off previously. 
“Echo 0-1, moving interior.” Phantom called out, flipping her NOD’s up and sweeping her gaze around the first room.
She heard him before she saw him, registering the repetitive phrase just before she reacted.
“Mut!” Die.
Phantom pulled the trigger without hesitation.
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