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#here we go again
lulublack90 · 2 days
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Prompt 14 - Voice
@jegulus-microfic April 14, Word count 703
It's happened again. We're having a series. But only for a couple of prompts this time.
First part
“What’s happened to you then? That tall chap was easy on the eyes.” Sirius snickered as he perched on the sofa’s arm next to Regulus’s head and ruffled his curls. 
“Get off you twat!” Regulus pushed his brother’s hand away. He hissed as the movement jolted his ankle. Sirius’s jolly grin turned to concern. 
“Are you hurt? Oh my god, Reggie. What happened?” Before he could explain, James returned with two steaming cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Regulus felt his mouth begin to drool. 
“Hi,” James grinned at Sirius. “I’m James.” He held out his hand. Sirius considered it for a second before taking it and giving it a firm shake. 
“Sirius, Regulus’s brother. Do you know how he hurt himself?” Regulus watched as James’s face flushed when he stuttered out an explanation that confused Sirius even more. 
“Wait, what do shrinking trees have to do with Regulus?” Sirius asked cocking his head to the side as he tried to figure out James’s mess of a story. 
“He was on a run he didn’t have any business being on, and he took me out,” Regulus explained. 
“What, like on a date?” Sirius waggled his eyebrows at him. 
“No, as in he’s a buffoon who can’t ski and nearly killed me!” Regulus’s voice rose. A few of the guests in the lobby looked over at the trio. Regulus shuffled down, hiding his face. “Great, thanks for that, Sirius.” He ground his teeth. 
“Hey, don’t blame me. I wasn’t the one screaming.” Sirius was having the time of his life. Regulus had had enough. He put his untouched drink onto the coffee table and tried to stand. He immediately sat down again. This was going to be harder than he thought. Then, those strong arms gathered him up. 
“Which room are you in?” James asked him. His mind had gone blank.
“210,” Sirius answered for him. James turned and walked over to the lift. He shuffled Regulus slightly so he could press the call button and then settled him back against his chest. Regulus still couldn’t think of a good protest. 
James stopped outside Regulus’s room and didn’t move. It took Regulus longer than he cared to admit to figure out he needed the key card. 
Regulus wiggled in James’s arms as he tried to dig his wallet out of his pocket. 
“Damn it, I can’t quite,” He gave up. “Can you put me down for a second?” James carefully put him on his feet against the wall so he had something to lean on. He dug his hand into his snowsuit and pulled it free. 
James wrapped his arm around Regulus’s waist and helped him hop through the door. He stopped, unsure of where he wanted to sit. The bed would probably be best as it was close to the bathroom, and he could prop his ankle up, but he didn’t know how he felt about having a stranger see his bedroom.
“Where’s your bed?” James asked, looking around the room. “Did they only give you a pull-out?”
“What are you on about? The bedrooms through there.” He pointed at his bedroom door. What’s a pull-out?” He asked, bewildered. 
“It’s a sofa that turns into a bed.” James smiled at him. Regulus was about to thank him for his help when he was suddenly in James’s arms again. 
“Why do you keep picking me up!” He cried as he tried to escape. 
“Dr Lupin said you shouldn’t put any weight on it, and this is the easiest way to move you. I’m just doing what a good boyfriend would do.” James smirked at him. Regulus was not impressed. 
“You do know that we’re not boyfriends, right?” Regulus said as James opened his bedroom door. “Right?!” His voice cracked with nerves as James leaned over his bed and dropped him on the soft mattress. 
“Yes, Regulus. I’m not an idiot. We’ve only just met. Anyway,” He said, standing up. “I’ve got the whole week to win you over. No need to rush.” He blew him a kiss as he left the room. Regulus was stunned. He’d never had anyone be that forward with him, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued. 
Next part
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lorehappy83 · 1 month
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"Grant me your wrath, my dear. For I've become unworthy of your forgiveness"
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todaysbird · 1 year
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in 2023 may you find many seeds, nuts, berries etc
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shisasan · 9 months
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𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝟷𝟿, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶-𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹
[ID: July 19, slept, awoke, slept, awoke, miserable life. END ID]
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ministarfruit · 3 months
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day 1: if only ♡
(femslashfeb prompt list)
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yeye23 · 3 months
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Here be more Leo, but with the one arm. I think to myself how his fighting style might change after loosing it. But I gather that wouldn't be a problem for him honestly.
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The Rookie 4x22 | 9-1-1 7x5
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pheonixgrave · 7 months
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Safety
I saw a post the other day about Astarion watching Tav get railed by Halsin and this is what happened, I am so sorry :D
Warnings: Blood drinking, big Halsin, threesome, virgin tav is really into pain, service dom Halsin, sub Astarion, sub Tav, Astarion's poor relationship with sex, aftercare, oral, very large Halsin, set near end of act III
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“Are you sure about this?” Tav sat on the edge of a private bed in Sharess’ Caress with Astarion sitting in a rather comfortable looking armchair facing her. He was lounging with a glass of wine in his hand. Just as she was clad only in a periwinkle satin robe that clung to her body.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t, darling. Are you sure about this?” He could tell she was nervous. They had rented this room for one reason only. Privacy. While they had the rooms at the Elfsong, Astarion didn’t want the rest of their party listening in. 
“I want to, I’m just nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.” She chuckled, he knew. Of course he knew, why did she have to say it? Her nerves were starting to get the better of her. She tried breathing through it but her heart would not stop racing.
He smiled at her before rising to his feet. He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands, “Nothing is going to happen if you don’t want it to. And you do have me here, I won’t let anything go further than what you want.”
“I trust you,” she placed a soft kiss against his lips before smiling. “But I can’t promise this will go smoothly.”
“My love, nothing goes smoothly when you’re involved.” He kissed her again, “maybe I could help you relax just a little before he gets here.”
“What do you mean?” His hands started to wander down her arms, slowly reaching the tie that kept her robe together. 
Normally, someone of her station would have something longer, a little more regal. But this was not a regal situation. “Perhaps I can make you just a tad more comfortable.” With deft hands, he untied her robe. Gods, her freckled skin always made him catch his breath. But backlit by the sun setting outside, she looked like a goddess reborn. A perfect halo around her newly scarred body.
She only nodded, still embarrassed by the intimacy of it all. Her words may have been caught in her throat but her body obeyed. She spread her legs for him to fit between them. She leaned back on her elbows as he ever so gently pushed her back. “Astarion?”
“Shh, darling, let me.” He dropped to his knees. Holding her thighs open, he licked a long stripe against her cunt. She gasped but tangled her fingers in his hair. He only wanted to bring her to that edge and maybe prep her just a little. He made lazy circles around her clit while she writhed on the bed. It was his favorite dance with her. 
But before he would get too wrapped up in the taste of her, the doors swung open. To say Halsin was a presence was an understatement. And as soon as Astarion went to pull away to make room, the druid held him there. “Do not stop on my account.”
Tav immediately went to cover herself  and they let her, but Astarion’s tongue continued. This time encouraged by an audience, he buried his face in her cunt. Leaving no inch undiscovered, he couldn’t help but fuck her with his tongue. Tav tried to stay quiet, tried to keep her moans to herself. What she did with Astarion was filthy enough and adding the archdruid seemed so strange to her. She turned her face towards him and watched him slowly start to undress. He was so…large. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about being held by him. It was almost enough to distract her from the Rogue between her legs. Almost. 
She felt her orgasm wash over her as he gave her clit a slight nip. "Astarion!" She cried, giving his hair a harsh tug.
He let her ride out her high for a moment before standing before her, her legs still spread and her chest heaving. The golden rays of the sun surrounded her now. Her golden hair fanned out behind her and the flush of her skin was all Astarion wanted to look at. Dazed by her taste and how angelic Tav looked at that moment, he didn't notice Halsin turning him around to face him. 
Halsin wasn't one to waste time, not when it came to this. He held Astarion's face and smashed his lips against the smaller elf's. Tav could do nothing but watch the druid ravage him. It took her breath away to watch him pick Astarion up and drop him in the chair yet again. The two made eye contact for a moment. He looked positively wrecked. His face was far more flushed than usual and she could see how hard he was through his trousers. It made her cunt clench. 
Then he turned to her. "Astarion was right. You taste as sweet as any wine." If it had been possible, the bard would have even blushed even more. Halsin towered over her. She watched as he slowly unbuckled his breeches, her breath catching in her throat. The initial trepidation had been washed away with Astarion. Or so she had thought.
Halsin was big. Astarion was nothing to scoff at but Halsin was another creature entirely. She swallowed hard, "Is that even going to fit?"
He slowly started stroking himself, "It has before in much smaller."
"Gods," she practically whimpered, tossing her head against the pillows.
"Did you prep her?" His voice was so low and hungry. 
"I didn't have enough time, you barged in before I could really commit." Astarion sounded like a different person. He was far more whiny than before. He was feeling just as needy as she was. 
"Sit behind her." Astarion moved before she realized it, sitting against the pillows and resting her head resting on his chest. It dawned on her that he liked following his commands. She could feel how hard he was pressed against her back. "Good boy."
A shiver ran down the rogue's back as a light whimper escaped him.
"Now hold her just like that," he stood between her legs with Astarion propping her up. It took her by surprise when Halsin's thick fingers spread her cunt open. "Such a pretty girl," he murmured to himself before slowly slipping just one finger inside her. Tav writhed against the vampire spawn, silently begging for more. She tried to gain a little friction by grinding her hips against his hand. "Hold her, Astarion." 
It was a quick command but one he followed without thinking. He wrapped his arms around her middle. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, "Are you alright, love?"
She whimpered but nodded. She simply needed more. "Touch her."
His hands were quick to find her breasts. She arched her back into his touch as Halsin added a second finger and started practically pistoning his fingers in and out of her. "Gods!" 
"Good, just let go for me. You will have to cum around my fingers before I give either of you anything else." Halsin watched the two in front of him. Astarion might have needed this more than he had thought. And so did Tav. It was impossible not to find either of them attractive. It had been even more impossible to ignore that attraction. And now that she was laid bare in front of him with him behind her, it was almost too much. He silently prayed to the Oak Father for control.
Tav's moans got louder. Her hands gripped Astarion's shirt as he played with her breasts. She thought the attention Astarion gave her was overwhelming but it was nothing compared to the attention of the two elfs. “Shit,” she gasped as her cunt clenched around Halsin’s fingers. 
He removed his fingers from her, not hesitating to suck them clean. “If I did not want to take you now, I would spend hours just tasting you.”
She only whined in response, still coming down from another high. She never imagined herself as a plaything before. But she could scarcely think of little else than the two men using her body. The thought alone was nearly enough to push her over the edge again. She didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought. Halsin used his other hand to direct her face towards him. “Is this what you want?”
She nodded.
“I need more than that.”
“Yes! Just-”she whined, “please!” 
Halsin smiled to himself. They had jumped into this with little preparation or conversation and a part of him was worried it might be too much. He was already worried that giving Astarion commands would be too much yet he followed them so sweetly. The two of them were so eager to obey him. He held her thighs apart, taking a moment to watch her cunt twitch in anticipation before dragging himself through her folds. He groaned as he slowly pushed his way inside her. 
She cried out at the stretch. Gods, it hurt. Her face twisted from pleasure to pain. Astartion hushed her, gently stroking her cheek. “I know, darling, you have to relax.” She nodded, focusing on her breathing. 
Halsin stopped, gently stroking her thighs. “Are you alright?”
“Gods, don’t you dare stop now,” she nearly cried. Between a shady priest and Astarion, she had learned that pain was merely a motivator. 
It took patience and care, but eventually he found himself completely buried inside of her. She looked so small like this but so tight and hot. He leaned down to press a kiss against her lips. A kiss she eagerly returned, a hand threading itself through his hair. He broke away panting, leaning towards Astarion next. He could feel his fangs nip at his lips. Not intentionally, just silently begging for more. He braced himself standing at the edge of the bed, holding her thighs apart. “Are you ready?”
Another nod. This time, he didn’t make her talk, just gave a couple shallow thrusts. Those shallow thrusts slowly turned harder and harder until he was practically punching the air from her lungs. Without thinking, he grabbed Astarion’s hand and pulled it towards her clit. Normally, he was slow and teasing with his ministrations. But something about watching someone else fuck her into her own oblivion made him wild. Quick and purposeful circles around her clit combined with Halsin’s rough treatment had her back arching in almost no time at all. 
In a daze, Tav grabbed the back of Astarion’s head and brought him down towards her. She wanted to kiss him, to feel him too. Most of all? She wanted him to bite her. Once she broke the kiss, she bared her neck to him in a silent plea. Astarion looked at Halsin through his eyelashes. She wasn’t the only one who looked absolutely wrecked. 
The druid’s eyes were transfixed on her cunt swallowing him whole. His chest was heaving as he held her trembling thighs open. “Hells,” he whispered underneath his breath. He glanced up at the rogue, who was equally transfixed on his cock bullying her. “Say what you need, Astarion.” He growled, closer to his own end than he would like.
Astarion stroked her neck with the hand that wasn’t still circling her clit. "She's asking for a bite," he all but whined and pouted.
"By all means," he had never seen something like that. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't curious and if she was asking in the throes of another orgasm? Who was he to deny her?
Astarion adjusted so he could be closer to her neck, she didn't seem to notice. She could only moan and cry out nonsense. And then he bit her neck, right where her scars were forming at the juncture of her neck. 
Halsin watched her eyes roll back in her head as she scratched at the vampire’s thighs and created a vice grip on his cock. It was too much even for him, he tried to hold back, to let her ride out this high one more time. But he couldn’t. He pulled out right before he finished, coating her body in his seed as Astarion drank from her. He stood there for a moment, trying to collect his own thoughts. Astarion was running his hands up and down her body, making a mess on her stomach, her neck seemingly forgotten.
He dragged his fingers through Halsin’s seed, using the other hand to pry her mouth open. She sucked in his fingers without question. It was salty and earthy, she gagged at first but tried to lick Astarion’s fingers clean. And she swallowed every drop on his hands. If he wasn’t careful, Halsin would need another chance to bury himself inside her. Now that he’s had her, could he ever truly think of anything else?
Without warning, Astarion left her side, positioning himself at the edge of the bed once more. Only a fool would be able to miss the tent in his trousers. Halsin watched him lick every drop of his seed off her stomach while his hand found her clit once more while Tav looked at Halsin with pleading eyes. 
“Good boy,” Halsin’s hands wrapped around his own cock, watching the vampire clean the bard with his tongue. “Do you wish to fuck her too? I would hate for you to be left wanting.”
For once, Astarion had nothing to say. With clumsy hands, he stripped out of his clothes. Tav was far too gone to notice him shaking. But Halsin watched him bury his cock in her cunt and watched her nearly scream. He watched him fuck her with reckless abandon. It didn’t feel like the Astarion he knew. He walked behind him, running his hands down his arms. “She is not going anywhere, sweetling. You are safe,” he whispered into the vampire’s ears. 
His grip on Tav tightened while Halsin kissed his neck and rubbed gentle circles on his thighs as she reached He let him work out whatever he was feeling on her already abused cunt. Astarion came with a strangled cry. He collapsed on Tav, tangling his limbs with hers. The two laid there, completely spent and out of breath with tears pricking his eyes. Halsin felt his heart swell looking at the two. He smiled to himself before walking towards the washroom. Casting a spell to warm the water already sitting in the room’s tub. 
First, he scooped up Tav in his arms. She nuzzled against his chest and welcomed the warmth of the water. Next he swept Astarion in his arms and sat him next to the bard. It was a quick thing getting the two of them scrubbed down. Eventually, Astarion came back into his right mind and started scrubbing Tav’s hair. Tav, who was still in a dazed state, simply leaned against the much larger elf as the vampire helped scrub her body. For a while after, Halsin simply held the two smaller elfs as they curled against him and simply slept. He hadn’t expected to stay but he was more than happy to.
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theriu · 1 year
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I didn’t know how to make polls last for a week last time. Let’s see how the percentages line up on a grander scale and how many more people want to destroy me! :D
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python333 · 8 months
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im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss
can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?
its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3
pardon? — python333
— — — —
synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
word count 2.6k
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].
note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!
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“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.
You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.
“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”
“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.
“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”
The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—” 
You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of. 
You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you. 
“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece. 
You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”
“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?” 
“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.
You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder. 
“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”
“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up. 
“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.” 
“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder. 
“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.” 
You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.
You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up. 
You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.
Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.
You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.” 
“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.
The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.
The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about. 
It was their stupid accents you hated. 
Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.
They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy? 
You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up. 
“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.” 
You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?
“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?” 
“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.
A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?” 
“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.” 
“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return. 
“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.” 
“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers. 
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”
“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.” 
You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.
You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers. 
They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”
Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open. 
“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price. 
“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap. 
“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.
Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk. 
“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?” 
You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well. 
“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.” 
“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?” 
“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” 
“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.” 
“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.” 
“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact. 
“Mhm,” Ghost hums. 
“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.” 
“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle. 
As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].” 
You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?” 
“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.” 
“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yeah it is.”
“No it’s—” 
“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.” 
“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic. 
“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought. 
“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you. 
“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.” 
“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”
“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”
“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.” 
“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.” 
“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.” 
“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort. 
“Muppet?” 
“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.” 
“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.” 
“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?” 
“Oh, I’ll have you all know—” 
“Ghost, don’t start—” 
You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.
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Jesters on stage
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onsomenewsht · 1 month
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Darling heart, I loved you from the start
About when she got her introduction and you got a dog’s toy thrown at you
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》 Alexia Putellas x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 every dog has its day [idiom]: said to emphasise that everyone is successful or happy at some time in their life
“What the fuck is that?!”
You both barely make it into your apartment, hands leaving the handle to hold firmly around each other’s clothes.
Alexia’s defined figure is pressed between your body and the shut door, her thigh shamelessly pushing on you and her lips attacking your jaw and pulsing points.
At least it is until something distracts her.
You look around your dark apartment, quite annoyed about the interruption, spotting the cause of her sudden hesitation.
“Alexia, meet my dog Oliver. Oliver, meet my fuck buddy Alexia”
The blonde’s reply comes in the form of a smack on your arm, eyes still fixed on the pet.
“He’s not a dog, he’s a bear”
“Are you calling my sweet boy fat?”
“He’s taller than you!”
She’s not completely wrong, the German Shepherd can look quite intimidating. The fact he’s somehow still put in the middle of the room, imposing on his four muscular legs with a curious tilt of his head, does not work in his favour.
The light is now switched on, you leave Alexia by the door to take the steps toward Oliver and greet him with affection. He relaxes at the attention, eyes still fixed on the new guest, but he’s definitely enjoying your hands on his dark fur.
“What’s the matter? You knew I have a dog”, the starring context is starting to ruin your mood, “You too─”
“Nala’s a cute little bubble of fluff, he’s─ not”
“Oliver is as sweet as Nala, aren’t you?”
Finally able to please your dog enough to get his full attention, he jumps on your front excited to have his favourite person back home and you have to put a great effort to avoid his wet greetings.
“Now I’m definitely not kissing you again, maybe ever”
“Bold statement for someone who could barely wait for the car to be parked before slipping her tongue in my─”, she finds a dog’s toy lying around to throw at you before you can finish your sentence.
Wrong move, Oliver decides that Alexia’s worth his attention and takes her action as an invite to play.
You have to recall all your dog’s training hours and hide your amusement to make sure the blonde doesn’t leave your apartment traumatised by Oliver’s enthusiasm and that he doesn’t destroy the place.
You manage to leave him entertained in the living room as you lead Alexia into your bedroom, hoping to get back to business.
When you try to kiss her, she covers your face with her hand and lightly pushes you toward the bathroom.
“No, wash your face first!”
“He will grow on you”
~
Oliver grew on Alexia. Slowly, but he grew on her.
On the other hand, your relationship grows a bit faster. Late meetups once or twice a week turn into daily texts and sleepovers, quick coffees on the way each to your own separate lives turn into dinner dates and breakfast in your friends’ favourite places.
That’s how you find yourself on the stand of a football camp, watching two dozen or so women dressed in colourful kits running around a ball and trying to kick it better than one another.
The open-door training day allows you to observe Alexia in her natural habitat without pressure on either of you.
She knows you understand close to nothing about football, the sport never able to grab your attention for more than a couple of minutes.
You met Alexia in a club during her off-season, not impressed at all when a mutual friend tried to let you realise how famous she actually is. You were more focused on her exposed stomach and her quip remarks, to be honest.
However, since you started with the Catalan whatever it is you two started, you managed to find some interest in the sport.
Alexia looks stunning in that ridiculous kit, toned legs and imposing manners on display for you to enjoy. Oliver, beside you, seems pretty involved in the all commotion too, barking loudly whenever a familiar blonde has the ball.
When the session comes to an end, her team takes the time to thank the fans for showing up and for their support. It’s only a matter of time before Oliver takes the spotlight on himself, letting young boys and girls pet him eagerly and gathering some of Alexia’s teammates around him.
“Best wingman ever”, you say to the blonde, loud enough for one of her friends to hear as she laughs and nudges her.
“If only they knew how annoying he actually is”, Alexia whispers directly to your ear.
Both of you take advantage of the distraction created by your dog, walking a couple of steps away from the crowd. Oliver doesn’t get overwhelmed easily and he’s good with kids, so you trust him enough to let him enjoy the praises for some moments.
“He lives for the attention”
“He remembers me of someone, no less with a royal title”
“You’re so lucky there are kids around”, she says as she smiles at a little girl and drops to her height for a picture.
You have the decency to wait for the young mind to leave before taking a step closer to Alexia and whispering, “I’m sure I’m gonna get luckier once there will not be kids around”.
Oliver’s barks stop any comments from the captain.
~
When you come back from an early walkout with an overexcited dog at your heels, you find Alexia in your kitchen wearing just an oversized top and a smug smile.
“Mamá wants to meet you”, she covers her mouth with her self-proclaimed mug.
She’s getting more and more comfortable around your apartment lately, so you let her have the mug and a designated spot on your sofa and you don’t point out her vintage t-shirt collection taking up more space in your closet.
“I met her”, your eyebrow rises in challenge as said mug hides her red cheeks.
“Properly, idiota!”
You both can agree that the woman rushing into the blonde’s apartment, happily bringing a freshly made dinner, but finding you in a compromising position on top of her daughter is not the best way to be introduced.
You still don’t know how to introduce each other in the first place.
“Do you want me to meet her?”
“I met Oliver”
Your dog is currently lying on Alexia’s feet, you catch her giving him bits of her breakfast despite repriming both of them multiple times.
She still insists on saying she doesn’t like him, his excited nature and imposing form too much to deal with. Oliver, as the naive huge animal he is, seems not to care about her initial detachment, always happy to have the Catalan around.
Almost as the Catalan herself.
“You throw a toy at me and won him over, he is a simple boy”
“I think if you do the same, mamá will be as amused”
“Are you gonna introduce me the same way I introduced you?”
“How about we make it official?”
“I’m not sure”, you try to look sceptical as you catch your dog’s attention, “What do you think, Oliver?”
Enthusiastic barks and open laughs fill the room at your question.
fine.
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comfortyart · 3 months
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No ones surprised but im drawing them again
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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months
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How would konig react if reader left? like maybe without a trace n just disappeared cause she couldn’t anymore?
Hehehe... No one escapes König.
TW/CW: Can we just all agree that toxic!König is a trigger warning on its own from now on? I mean, it's the regular: stalking, harassing, sexism, potential killing(s)... also light angst (featherlight if you compare to the "cheating on König" answer.)
I mean, sure, he would be upset if he found out reader is trying to get away from him. He's not stupid. König knows he's built different (in more ways than one) and knows he will never be the man reader deserves. Still, he is fixed on the idea that they belong together. They are carved from the same tree. She is the moon to his sun, the light to his darkness. Wherever she goes, he goes. It should be the other way around, but if the woman of his dreams plays hard to get... Sure, he'll entertain her.
If someone approaches reader, König gets very territorial. Those poor souls get threats, maybe even some stabbing – this really depends on the situation. But if reader tries to detach or leave the relationship, he would observe this change in behavior with curious anxiety.
If drastic measures are taken and she tries to escape or make a disappearing act, König would simply do everything he can to find her. And let me tell you: this man can and will outwit anyone who doesn't share his background and training. So unless reader gets some actual, skilled, professional help from outside, she doesn't have much of a chance.
And when König eventually finds her, he would try to talk her back. Just persuade, persuade, persuade. Apologize if and when he has done something wrong. Shower her with attention and compliments and gifts. Beg, even – on his knees like a lovelorn knight. If reader says it's over and she doesn't want to continue the relationship, it would break his heart. But that would only last for a day or two. He knows who he belongs to and most of all, who belongs to him, so he would form a plan. König wouldn't get too discouraged.
He would simply draw his shoulders back and stay around. For years, if need be. After all, he already won her heart – he will do so again. He promised he would never let her go.
He would check up on her, be very suave and gentlemanly about it. Reader can always talk to him if she needs someone to turn to. They can at least remain friends, right?
If she answers his calls, he would at some point come over. Uninvited, yes, but just to pay a brief visit... See if she needs something. He is always willing to help should reader need something. A bookshelf needs to be assembled? He's on it! Reader needs a ride somewhere? He's already on his way. Whatever it is, he can do it. (He will show her how useful he is, verdammt noch mal.)
If reader tries to see others... uh-oh. König would start by threatening the possible candidates. No one would stay around for long to oppose this man. If they did, well, death sentence for them! Or at least a new hole somewhere. While he sort of knows that what he's doing is wrong, he also can't stand the idea of someone laying eyes, let alone a finger on her. He can't stand the thought of spending the rest of his life without her, because if she were to find someone new, someone better, he would watch that shit from afar and slowly break to pieces. And that's just not an option.
One slip of a comfort fuck, and she wouldn't get him out of her house. He would view it as a sign that you're back together again no matter what you tell him. Also, did I say comfort fuck? I meant mad, pent-up pounding that lasts the whole night. The sheets would be in shreds, reader would be covered in sweat and cum and tears and bite marks made in the heat of passion and frustration. The cuddles that follow nearly leave her bruised. König has missed her SO much 💞
So, the cocktail would be: hunting her down, harassing, stalking and "helping" her, bullying her dates... Our king would even resort to simping 🥺.
But König would only say he's in love. He will simply never find another you ❤️. (And you're not allowed to find anyone else either.)
He would view it romantic in a way: reader forces him to woo her all over again! As we already know, hunter/prey dynamics only give him a thrill. She must like the setting too. Why else would she do something like this? "Women and their games…" That would be his thought, accompanied with a shrug.
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tekehu · 1 year
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S K Y R I M + details (1/?)
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sovereign-skyy · 7 months
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Once again, the Sisyphean nature of shaving rings true
Why can't it just stay gone?!
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