could i do a mourning dove hybrid reader w/ the 141? Angst + fluff is preferred. The prompt can be whatever you like.
good lord it sounds like im in a drive-through😭
tf141 x mourning dove!reader
Summary: soap hears some strange distress calls from somewhere in the forest, he ropes in his team mates to help track it down
A/N: Thanks for ordering, please drive to the next window to collect your meal. Went with the injury prompt for this one! Hopefully it is to your liking.
The walk back to base was a long one, the team had been out on a training exercise for the good part of a day and all of them were ready to finally get their gear off and have something to eat. Price took the lead as the four of them navigated their way through the woods, Gaz and Ghost followed closely behind while Soap brought up the rear.
The group walks in silence, each of them fatigued enough that even talking felt as though it used too much energy. Distant sounds of birds float through the air, leaves rustling lightly in the breeze, if Soap weren’t so exhausted he’d think it’s quite peaceful. One sound in particular catches his ear, a soft cooing coming from somewhere to the left of him. Normally he pays very little attention to animal noises, accustomed to the array of wildlife that occupy the wooded area surrounding the base, however this call sounds different to the ones he typically hears.
He slowly draws to a halt, gaze narrowing as he scans through the trees in search of the source, his pause drawing the attention of the other men.
“Something the matter, Sergeant?” Price has paused in his path, Gaz and Ghost doing the same as they all look back at Soap.
“Not sure, sounds like a bird but not one I’m familiar with.”
The captain shakes his head lightly, nodding for everyone to continue moving, “if you want to go bird watching Mactavish by all means do so, the rest of us are more interested in getting some supper.”
The group continues on, leaving Soap to continue staring out into the thick foliage. After a moment he turns after the group, jogging lightly to catch up. The four of them making their way back onto the base.
As the sun starts to dip beyond the horizon the noises begin to cease, your hope of finding help dwindling with them. Through the thick mass of trees sits you, foot tangled in a wire snare, digging harshly into the flesh of your ankle. Three days ago you landed here to rest and made the unfortunate discovery that some asshole had laid out traps, likely with the intention of catching a rabbit or similar, not a fully grown dove hybrid.
The first day you had tried desperately to rid yourself of the trap, though any attempt at pulling free only tightened the binds, and the wire was too strong for you to break by hand. You had hoped that the owner of said trap may eventually come to check it, therefore finding you, however you were left to the realisation that this trap seems to have been set many years ago, the metal starting to brown from rust. The pain in your foot has begun to spread up your leg, the skin having turned an ugly purple distal from where the snare digs in. Your fingers are raw and bloodied from your attempts at prying free. As you lie on the ground, wings curling around yourself in an attempt to keep warm in the cold night air, you can’t stop the stream of tears from careening down your cheeks. You don’t want to die, but you know that without help soon that’s exactly what will happen. Swallowing down the lump in your throat you try once more to call for help, begging that someone hears you.
Soap hasn’t been able to get the noise out of his head, even after showering and helping himself to a plentiful serving of dinner, he finds himself unable to relax for the evening. His gut is telling him that there is something wrong, and he’s determined to find out what. Which is why he finds himself navigating his way back through the trees. It’s also why Gaz finds himself doing the same as the sergeant dragged him along for company, and didn’t care for Gaz’s protests against joining.
Soap moves quickly, ears perked for the sound he heard prior, while Gaz begrudgingly trudges behind, hands shoved deep into his pockets in an attempt to preserve some warmth. At the slightest of sounds, Soap pulls to a stop, pausing for a few moments before moving off again when he decides it’s not what he is searching for.
“How long do we have to be out here? It’s fuckin’ freezing.”
Soap shushes Gaz, not even sparing him a glance. Gaz throws his hands up in disbelief, sighing as he’s led deeper into the forest. Suddenly Soap stops, causing Gaz to run into his back at the abrupt pause. Soap’s head snaps to the side, squinting into the dark. “Did you hear that?”
Gaz strains to listen, trying to pick up on whatever it is the other man is listening in on. “Uhh…. no.”
Just as Gaz is about to turn back, willing to drag Soap along if necessary, he hears it. A soft cooing sound somewhere through the trees. The two men lock eyes briefly before both of them take off, navigating through the thick undergrowth, feet catching on treebranches as they go.
The loud sounds of something crashing through the forest causing your heart to race, you have nowhere to go, no way to hide from whatever large creature is currently barreling toward you. Your fingers thread around a sizable tree branch laying on the ground beside you. Drawing it close to your chest you take a deep breath, hoping what comes is a form of help, but preparing for what to do should it not be.
When Soap steps into the small clearing he is immediately hit across the face with something solid. He lets out a sharp groan as he stumbles into a tree, his forehead throbbing. He can hear Gaz’s laughter beside him, finding amusement in his misfortune. When Soap finally blinks his eyes open, he’s met with a very disheveled, petrified looking individual. An individual with a large pair of wings attached to them.
He clears his throat, not taking his eyes off the creature, “are you seeing what I’m seeing Gaz or did the hit to my head knock out some brain cells?”
“Nah mate, I see it too.”
Soap takes a careful step forward, crouching down to be eyelevel with the creature. “I didn’t think hybrids were around this area.”
You try to scramble backwards, letting out a sharp sob when the snare pulls tighter on your leg. It’s only then that the two men seem to take in the full scene, eyes narrowing in on the wire entangling your lower limb.
Gaz sucks in a sharp breath, “shit that’s- that’s pretty bad.”
The two men lock eyes, seeming to have a silent conversation. Gaz steps back toward the path they strayed from, nodding once at Soap, “I’ll go find Ghost, we’re gonna need the extra hands.”
At that, he is sprinting back toward the base, leaving Soap alone with you. Soap reaches toward your leg, intending to untangle it, only for you to swipe a wing at him, eyes wet with tears of pain and fear. He holds his hands up in placation, leaning back slightly to try and settle your panic. “I’m not gonna hurt ya’ just need to have a look at your leg.”
You blink once, drawing your wing back towards you. Soap slowly lowers his hands, “can you understand me?”
You manage one slow nod, unable to compel any words to come forth. Your acknowledgement brings some relief to Soap, “I need to get this wire off of ya’. I’ll be as gentle as I can but you need to stay still, can you do that?”
A shake of your head is all the confirmation Soap needs before he’s pulling out a pocket knife, working quickly to cut away the wire. Pain radiates through your leg with each snip he makes, tears streaming down your cheeks as you fight to stay still. When one piece snags you can’t stop the strangled sob that rips from your chest, a sound that has Soap’s stomach turning.
“I know, I know, I’m almost done.”
As he untangles the final strand, two sets of footsteps can be heard thundering toward them, Gaz pushing through the trees with a very unimpressed Ghost in tow. The lieutenant takes a moment to process what it is he’s seeing, blinking once slowly before grunting out, “leave it to you idiots to find a stray.”
Despite his gruff tone, Ghost crouches beside you, digging through his pockets for the handful of medical supplies he grabbed after Gaz’s brief explanation of the situation. When you tense in worry at his approach, he lets out a low sound that is eerily similar to a coo, immediately you feel more at ease though slightly confused as to how he’s able to mimic your call so well. He’s quick when he bandages your leg, hands sure and steady as he works. The entire time your gaze stays locked on him, if he was bothered, he doesn’t show it. He gives no warning before scooping you into his arms and standing up once the strapping is secured, you let out a startled chirp and thrash your wings in an attempt to force yourself from his hold. Ghost shifts one of his arms so he can secure your wings, keeping them tucked firm against your back, as he does so another soft coo slips from his lips, his mouth hovering close to your ear. “Settle down dove, we got ya.”
Again you are unsure why, but his noises manage to calm you down. Gaz takes the lead in navigating through the forest, holding branches and other obstacles out of the way for Ghost. Soap holds a small torch overhead, keeping the path illuminated for the group as much as possible. When they make it back on base they are quick to bustle toward the infirmary, moving quickly to avoid running into any questioning officers, or worse the captain.
They manage to get you into an exam room and onto a bed without encountering another staff member, the three of them quick to start treating your injury. Gaz grabs a local anesthetic, numbing your lower leg so that Ghost can suture up the wounds. Soap is working to sterilize and clean your foot and ankle as best as possible before searching for some clean bandages to dress your wound with once Ghost is done. In their haste, none of them notice the sound of the door opening, a voice barking out causing them all to stop
“What the fuck is all this?”
The three men turn slowly, finding the stern, questioning stare of their captain. You shrink further into the bed.
Gaz swallows thickly, gesturing to you, “they were hurt, caught in an animal trap…we couldn’t just leave them.”
Price looks at you, then down at your leg, then back up at the men. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then changes his mind and turns back out the door, “I’m going to bed.”
The room falls silent as the team are left confused by the captain’s response, eventually Gaz speaks up, “he didn’t tell us no….”
The three men seem to unanimously agree that counts as permission to continue, turning back to the task at hand.
After a few days of rest you’re finally able to put some weight onto your foot. The injury has healed rapidly to the relief of the 141. The captain seems to have accepted your current residence on the base, either that or he doesn’t have the energy to argue with three soldiers over their newfound companion.
You have been quite enjoying your stay so far. After the nice men helped your foot feel better, you’ve decided they are very interesting company, and the room they gave you to stay in is a lot warmer than any tree you’ve had before.
When the three of them come to check on you one afternoon you greet them with a large amount of enthusiasm, gesturing them into the room. You smile brightly, letting out a soft coo as you gesture at the nest you made. A wonky circle constructed of a few thin blankets and a single cushion. The men stare for an extended amount of time, none of them quite sure what to say. Surprisingly it’s Ghost that breaks the silence, “good job dove.”
The praise makes your smile grow even wider, you grab his hand and drag him closer to the pathetic structure, making soft chirps as you gesture toward the different items you’d used.
Soap leans toward Gaz, murmuring out the side of his mouth, “I think that’s the saddest nest I’ve ever seen.”
Gaz nods in agreement, though the two of them quickly snap their mouths shut when Ghost fixes them with an extremely murderous glare over your shoulder.
Later when Gaz invites you to eat with the team, you eagerly accept, toddling down the hallway alongside him. The meal can only be described as… eventful. The men thought Soap could be messy with his food, that’s nothing compared to the disarray you create. The plate you ate from is completely cleared by the time you are done, however the surrounding areas are left covered with crumbs and pieces of food you’d discarded. When you’ve finally had your fill you eagerly follow Price out of the room toward his office, the captain unsure of your company but allowing it anyhow, leaving Ghost, Soap and Gaz with the clean up duties, the three of them not particularly pleased.
It’s odd having you around for a couple weeks, though not particularly unpleasant. Typically you follow one of them around for the day, hovering nearby and observing whatever task they may be doing, you don’t seem to have a preference, instead just randomly selecting who your focus will be each day. For the most part you stay out of the way, entertained enough by watching them work and making your occasional soft coos whenever you want some attention. The team learns quickly that meals with you are best done outside as to avoid the annoyance of cleaning up afterwards. You don’t talk much, just the occasional word or phrase in passing, you much prefer relying on your coos and soft chirps. Ghost seems to understand you quite well, for the most part the others can figure out what it is you’re wanting relatively quickly based on the context, and if they are ever truly stumped they call on the lieutenant to decipher your noises.
When your leg finally seems completely healed, they all assume you’ll be headed off to your own home, when another week passes and you are still happily following them around they can’t help but broach the question. During one morning when you are sat in the lounge preening your feathers, the group sits down with you, Gaz speaking the question on all of their minds, “now that you’re all healed up I suppose you’ll want to head back to… wherever it is you’re from?”
You ignore the question, continuing to preen your feathers. Gaz clears his throat, trying again to get your attention, “did you hear my question.”
You glance at him, a soft smile on your face, “stay.”
Gaz blinks, glancing toward the other men briefly before looking back at you, “stay?”
You nod, going back to your previous ministrations, “stay,”
None of the men know exactly how to respond to that, all eyes seem to fall on Price to make the decision as captain. The man instead just shakes his head, muttering something about not having the energy to deal with this before standing and exiting the room. It seems that the 141 has a new mascot, whether they want them or not. If they were honest about it, none of them truly mind.
Dividers by @allegedlylonely
