#Possibly mw2

[engl1sh-muffins]

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway, because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.

[ramvur]

the best task force out there

[available on InPRNT!]

[temeyes]

on your horse muppet, wE ARE LEAVING-

[lmao-liz]

long distance video calls with soap

my first time writing anything and it’s smut ish. i’m usually a reader and recommender but god do I love this concept

cw: phone sex, mutual masterbation, vibrator use, voyeurism. (let me know if I missed anything)

you and johnny are in a new relationship. it’s your first relationship where the guys got an actual career. he’s someone important, he can’t tell you the details just that it’s demanding and can be dangerous at times.

you embrace the long distance phone calls and rare video chats. it’s worth it because when he’s home it's unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. you know he’s military or something along those lines, the time differences and crazy schedules make it obvious.

after a few months together he opens up. tells you about the team, his cap, gaz, and of course simon. how the long hours and being away all the time gets to the team, he’s pissed none of them ever talk about it.

him having someone to come home to, it changed his mindset, he feels bad for them. it’s empathy, a bit of pity. he’s having such a good time with you, it’s not new for him to want to share the things he loves with his teammates.

the team just got settled into bed, working for almost two days straight in some random country, everyone was out as soon as they hit their pillows, deployment’s running too long. it feels like an eternity since he’s seen you, felt you. he knows he has to keep external contact as low as possible, but the thought of seeing you. it’s his forbidden fruit.

he’s a catholic, in hindsight not a great one, he kills, does unspeakable things for his job. so what’s another tally? one that he knows he deserves, because he’s been working so hard, it would be worth it.

the video call only rings twice before you pick up.

5:33 am.

he should be sorry for waking you up, but he needs you. you answer in the darkness of your room face illuminated by your phone screen. the lights are off in the barracks but you can see him in his bunk, shirtless, an arm tucked behind his head.

he looks like the product of a wet dream. one of which you’ve had too many of to be relaxed seeing him like this. he asks you what you’re wearing, tells you he needs you. he’s desperate, working long hours, going through all kinds of shitty situations. he says he’ll return the favour once he’s home. you know he will, he always does.

you don’t resist when he asks you to lift your shirt. you know he’s been working so hard, it’s the least you could do. he tells you to grab the vibrator he got you just before he left. knows how sometimes you need it quick and strong, not afraid of you liking it more than him, he knows how desperate you get while he’s gone for long periods of time.

he’s whispering praise to you, you can see the movement of his arm behind the screen. the laptop propped up on his drool worthy abs. it’s quick, the vibrator hitting in just the right spot, johnnys not the only desperate one. you haven’t seen him in months.

johnny knows he should turn his volume down. the sounds of your pleasure are bouncing off the walls of the small barracks. he just can’t help himself, too focused on your contorted face, your sounds, the quiet hum of your vibrator.

it should be embarrassing how fast he comes, but seeing you, even through a screen, it's more than he’s had, his imagination can’t compare to seeing the real thing. his grunts and heavy breathing are enough to push you over the edge. you both writhe in pleasure, thousands of miles between you too, but it’s not enough to keep you apart. you’re even more tired, a good orgasm and seeing johnny, you know he can’t stay on the line longer, but you want nothing more than to actually get a chance to talk.

he tells you he’ll be home soon, make up for him being gone longer than he said he would be. he wishes you a good night saying he's got another busy day tomorrow. you blow him a kiss goodbye, making him promise to come home safe.

“alweys dae lass”

the call ends, you set the vibrator and your phone back on your nightstand, rolling over and drifting back into dreamland.

johnny sets the laptop to his side, wondering how he’s going to clean himself up without waking everyone up. just when he’s about to say fuck it and sacrifice his boxers, a box of tissues hits his shoulder. he catches it before it hits the ground and looks to the bunk across the small room, he can see the outline of the infamous skull mask staring back at him.

“didn't know you had such a pretty bird waiting for you back home johnny”

he swears he sees simon adjusting himself beneath his blankets. but it’s dark, he hasn’t slept in almost 40 hours. it’s just his mind playing tricks on him right?

is this actually good? I like it but it’s a word vomit of my thoughts so i’m insanely biased. do I continue writing or stick to recommendations…

[steriotypicaloutlaw]

Ghost putting up glow in the dark stars above his bed because he gets nostalgic about sleeping under the stars sometimes. Ghost having a nightlight so he can see his surroundings and make sure he's not back in that coffin when he wakes up from a nightmare. Ghost keeping a fan on in his room at all times to stop the ringing in his ears. Ghost only being able to sleep if another member of the 141 are in the room with him. Ghost who secretly enjoys cuddling and being held, but only Soap, Roach, and Price get the honors of being able to even touch him for prolonged periods of time. Ghost who cries when overwhelmed and overstimulated, but blames it on allergies or sweat.

[littlest-dark-age]

Older!Retired!Simon who gets so...nervous...around you. Not because of what you do, how you look or the way you act, but because of the way you make him feel. He's grown used to the discomfort. Made it so the positive emotions are the things that truly make him uncomfortable and restless. All the tics and habits he manages to surprise for most of his life, you manage to bring out by simply being in the same room.

Older!Retired!Simon who has every alarm bell, siren, whistle and flashing red lights going off in his head when out on a date with you, in public at that. The fact that you didn't mind his mask or ask for a reasoning both added fuel to fire and calmed a different part of his brain.

Older!Retired!Simon who lets that side of his brain take control for the night, deciding to not give into every instinct that was beaten into him. Feeling like an old dog trying to perform a new trick as he talks to you throughout the night. Finding his own personal truth in fake it till you make it.

Older!Retired!Simon who does all the things he's heard from soap and price when they talk about being out with their life partners. A true gentleman, albeit a gruff one. Making sure to walk you back to your car or wait for your ride to get there, muttering about making sure to text him whenever you get home safe.

Older!Retired!Simon who is thankful for managing to be out in public for so long, a true hermit, when he gets your text as he's on his own way home. Who lets himself briefly wonder about what other fruit tonight would bear, letting himself enjoy something as the others have been telling him too for such a long time.

[bluegiragi]

tongue and teeth and heats oh my

more on patreon

[natelia-aldelliz]

1 : Soap never had any idea that woman wanted him carnally, he's not the most observant on that front (he never noticed Ghost flirting with him and thought his love was one-sided for the longest time, but tbf Ghost was also very discreet about it)

2 : He sewed the hat, eyepatch and hook himself, because he's the best uncle and then got distracted as he was wrapping it up, so now he's watching a tutorial on youtube about how to build a voice box. Honestly how hard could it be, he builds explosive devices as a hobby (listen, Price doesn't have to know)

3 : He is out to his family, but doesn't want his mum to know he has a boyfriend because he knows she'll insist on meeting him and welcoming him to the family and making a big deal out of this, and he knows that Ghost isn't ready for that.

4 : Christmas is obviously a very hard time for Ghost, but he is very very in love with Soap and some days still can't believe that it's mutual, but then his Johnny does something like that and his head gets quieter while he's melting a bit.

5 : For the people that didn't see my other post : the bird is a Caique parrot, and they're supposedly very energetic, a bit loud, medium sized, unintelligible, very friendly to what they consider their family, adventurous and danger prone, with an explosive personality and a hate of boredom, so basically the adhd bird.

[nouns-are-bad]

Vampire gaz being scared of feeding in front of the 141 because he’s had a hard time feeding in front of other teammates so it’s obviously the same here right?

Wrong, soap brings him a dead deer for him to feed off of with soap, ghost kills someone and while their bodies still hot asks if gaz want to get a quick meal in, price discretely handing him blood in a concealed flask for long missions because “we need you at the top of your game soldier”

The 141 including gaz in their meal practices because they don’t find it weird and want him to eat with them

[ghcstao3]

There’s something almost comical about the fact that Ghost lives in a classic horror movie house, Soap thinks.

When Soap is invited to join Ghost on leave at his place, Soap doesn’t hesitate to say yes. It’s a bit embarrassing, looking back, the enthusiasm with which he accepted the offer—but seeing now as Ghost drives up the obnoxiously long gravel driveway to his home, Soap is wondering if this is where he gets murdered.

Like Soap had immediately thought—the house is straight out of a thriller. Deep red brick walls covered in sprawling ivy, windows with chipped white trim and a black roof that needed to be retiled, even a rusted retro bike leaning against the side of the house—it screams I think this will be good for us just days before yet another family is brutally murdered by some evil demon within the home’s confines.

All that’s missing, as Ghost unlocks the front door with a calm familiarity, is the lightning strikes in the background while the door creaks open into a dark hallway.

At the very least, when Ghost flicks on the light, the home seems a little less in disrepair. A little less haunted, if only coated in a layer of dust since the last time he’d been out here.

Soap has to keep himself from gawking at the house’s interior and its vintage decor. It’s very not-Ghost, yet at the same time it very much is.

“Thought the whole dead-man-skeleton-motif persona was just a work thing,” Soap remarks, closing the groaning front door behind him. His other hand keeps a tight grip on the handles of his duffel.

“It is,” Ghost says, perfectly casual. “Why?”

Soap blinks. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet under Ghost’s gaze. “Nothing, I just… you really live here?”

Ghost frowns at him, wonderfully, miserably maskless, and folds defensive arms over his chest. “Yes. Is that a problem, sergeant?”

Soap is quick to shake his head. He has to remind himself that he agreed to be here, and should be grateful for the opportunity even if he’s ninety percent certain he is not making it out of this leave alive.

It doesn’t help that something suddenly thuds upstairs.

“No, it’s no’ a problem at all, just—this place is fuckin’ haunted, LT.”

Ghost snorts, arms falling loosely back to his sides, that calm, peaceful demeanour Soap had grown to know and love mercifully reappearing in place of the dark look that had briefly shadowed Ghost’s face. “It’s not haunted, Johnny. You’re a soldier—shouldn’t be afraid of the sounds of an old house settling.”

“Yeah, right,” Soap scoffs. “Settling is what makes those noises.”

Ever the bastard, Ghost cocks his head. “What noises?”

“Jesus Christ,” Soap mutters under his breath. He rolls his eyes, and tries to ignore the scratching he definitely hears coming from nearby baseboards. “Just show me to my room, then. But if I find bloody handprints on the mirror after I’ve showered or some shite like that, you’re driving me to the nearest hotel effective immediately.”

Ghost’s lips quirk upward. “Whatever you say, Johnny.”

Soap just might have to strangle the lieutenant himself—if he’s still alive by the next day to do so, of course.

[ficmashup]

Feral

A/N: I'm feeling silly, so why not post an almost 3k little fic of TF141? I have literally no thoughts other than 'hey, why not' so no clue if I'll continue this or not. Just fooling around! This is my first time posting anything like this by me, so don't come for me if I got the terms wrong. Also, I'm a first-person girly, so forgive me.

Warnings: I'm pretty vague, but for full disclosure, possible SA mention? (Nothing explicit or even mentioned, but more a general vibe, sorry that's not more specific) shooting, guns, very minor character deaths, f!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Read part two here.

Masterlist

I’m absolutely feral and determined to make sure everyone knows it.

Being in a male-dominated field hasn’t been easy and I’ve tried a lot of avenues before settling on this one. Something about being a female medic just really seems to set off everyone’s internal misogyny and nothing shuts them up faster than the little female medic literally punching their teeth in. I get into three fights my first month after being assigned to the 141.

The first fight I get into, I nearly bite a man’s finger off. (He was pointing it in my face and I warned him before going for it, so—deserved.) The second, I punch a man so hard while he’s talking that he bites off the tip of his tongue. (If he wanted to keep it intact, then he should have stopped wagging it.) During the third, I come away holding a chunk of a soldier’s hair. (He touched mine without permission and gave it a little tug. Enough said.)

After that, people seem to get the message. There are still a few smartasses that press their luck, but usually those situations are diffused without physical means. My relationship with my team however…that’s a bit more complicated.

I meet each of them when I arrive, the hulking soldiers lined up like pallbearers waiting for the coffin. I shook their hands, exchanged names, then didn’t say another word. None seemed to know exactly how to react to me and I wasn’t sure how to act around them. We’re supposed to trust each other with our lives, but I wouldn’t trust a single one to pour me a cup of tea. They struggle too, but for different reasons. They’re clearly close and know each other well, that’s why they’re such a deadly team, and I’m an outsider. A suspicious and cautious outsider, although I try to temper my attitude into passive indifference while I try to figure them out.

Naturally, Soap tries to break the ice first.

“You’ve got a thousand-yard stare that could rival Ghost’s, lass.” He comments one day in a charming Scottish accent as he risks sitting next to me in the mess hall. “You can bend my ear, if the fancy strikes ya.”

“I doubt that it will.” My voice is cool, indifferent, and I can’t keep myself from leaning away from him a bit. Too many times did I let myself trust another service member only for the friendship to quickly turn into something else. Something I did not want.

Soap quirks a brow and takes the cold shoulder in his stride. “But if it does. Don’t hesitate to find me.” He pats my shoulder before walking off and I feel the stirrings of something in my stomach as I watch him go. Loneliness, longing, the desire to be part of…something. I shake my head and throw away the rest of my food as I leave the mess hall, trying to ignore that little ember flickering in my gut.

*     *     *

Gaz tries next, but it’s a bit more subtle. Be it by luck or some other divine intervention, none of the team were ever present when I got into the fights. But they definitely heard about them afterward. There’s no judgement in their gazes, I’m sure they heard why I got into those fights, but there is curiosity. Gaz shifts a touch closer after a briefing about an upcoming mission and I clock the movement instantly, my eyes cutting to his. Gaz’s eyebrows pop up and the corner of his mouth lifts warmly. “Heard you were in a hell of a fight recently.” He starts, an elbow propped up on the arm of the chair he’s relaxed back into.

“Her last.” Price says with a pointed glance towards me and I nod, but we both know I didn’t start any of the fights. I simply ended them.

“The boys telling the tale were practically shaking in their boots.” Gaz presses on and I can’t help feeling a brief bit of pleasure at that. Price distracts himself with maps and papers on the other side of the table, but I’m not foolish enough to think that he isn’t listening. Soap perks up, turning to me as well while Ghost lurks near the door.

“Glad to hear the message got across.” I keep my voice low with little inflection. Usually I’m up and out the door after a meeting, but since everyone else is lingering, I figure I can give it a chance.

There’s a quiet hum from behind me that has my back straightening. “Trying to scare off the whole base?” Ghost asks and it’s the first time he’s asked me anything directly.

My head turns so that I can see his silhouette behind me. “Not all of us strike an imposing figure and wear a scary mask. Sometimes people have to see the blood on your teeth to know that you mean what you say.” I keep my voice soft to avoid the appearance of a threat, but let the words have an impact. Gaz and Soap glance at one another while Price’s hands stall over his papers across the table. A beat passes, then Ghost huffs what could almost be considered a laugh. The sound gives me a strange sense of relief as the tension over the room breaks.

“Can’t wait to see you sink your teeth into the enemy then, sergeant.” The corner of my mouth lifts and I nod, glad to have the opportunity to prove myself. I turn a bit more in my seat to see Ghost’s piercing eyes and don’t flinch away.

“I’ll save a blood-stained smile just for you, Lieutenant.” I promise and I think I hear Gaz swallow while Soap blinks. Ghost responds with a simple nod and I swear I see the fabric of his mask shift as he smirks before he slips out of the room.

*     *     *

The first real test comes when we’re sent out on our first mission together.

A month after I’m stationed with them, we’re sent out and it’s a bit jarring for all of us. They’ve been on their own for a while and introducing a new person into that dynamic…it’s enough to make everyone a bit off-center. But I’m used to sliding into places that I’m not wanted and I’m not about to be an idiot and risk everyone’s lives by being difficult, so I tuck myself into the small gaps left by the men. It’s not like they don’t want me here anyway, they’re just…apprehensive. Same as me.

We spend the first day trekking up a mountain through snow and I push myself hard, wanting to prove myself and leave no room for anyone to call me lazy or unfit. The entire day, I’m on Price’s heels as he leads us and I soak in his nod of approval despite myself as we file into an empty cabin for the night. I’m utterly exhausted, but I force myself to look through the house to memorize the layout before returning to the living room. Soap is eagerly setting up the hot plate for us to have a hot meal, even if it is an MRE, while the others are laying out their sleeping bags. They lay them in a row and I watch with trepidation as I put my bag down in a corner of the room, then sit alongside it as I rest for just a minute.

My eyes shut before I realize and I only become aware of it when I hear boots stop in front of me and they snap open. I look up instantly to see Price standing over me and I shove myself up onto my feet, teetering just slightly as I focus on his face. “Sir?”

“At ease.” He soothes and my shoulders lax just a touch at the command. “It’ll get below freezing tonight, so we’re huddling together. I’ve put you between Soap and I, but you can settle where you want.” Price chooses his words carefully with his clear eyes looking over my face for a reaction, but it’s clear that this isn’t optional.

“…yes, sir.” I respond, glancing over at the spot left bare for my sleeping bag. Anxiety gathers in my stomach and my hands clench at my sides. “Permission to take first watch?”

He considers me a moment, fingers smoothing over his facial hair. “Granted.” I glide away to the other side of the house and perch on a window sill as I look over the snowy landscape. Soap is kind enough to bring me my MRE and stalls next to me for a few moments.

“Feel free to snuggle close tonight. Or kick me if I start to snore.” He winks at me and my lips barely twitch at his effort to relieve the tension I know is clear throughout my body. After that, no one bothers me as night falls. The cold seeps into the house and I keep myself curled into a ball to conserve body heat even as I shiver. My anxiety about the impending sleeping arrangements keeps me awake and alert easily enough, but I can’t keep watch all night.

“Oi.” Ghost’s deep whisper disturbs the near silence and my head whips to my left, seeing him standing a few feet away. He moved quietly. Impressive for a man of his size. “I’m taking over. Get some sleep and get warm.” He flicks his chin back towards the others. I swallow and reluctantly leave my perch, brushing past him before I feel his gloved hand catch my bicep. My hand clenches into a fist automatically as I turn back to him to find his gaze locked on mine, his eyes dark and considering.

“I don’t know your story. Price has kept your file under wraps and we trust him enough to accept that. But whatever you’ve been through, don’t assume that you’re going to go through the same thing with us.” I’m pinned in place by his gaze and his words, my eyes widening slightly. I hadn’t known Price was keeping my file to himself, but the show of consideration and loyalty surprises me. It also hits me deep.

“I hear you.” I whisper back and he lets me pull my arm from his light grip. “But I’m not about to trust anyone blindly.”

He nods once. “Fine. But don’t rule it out either.” He quirks a brow at me pointedly before pulling away and settling in my place in the window, effectively ending the brief conversation. His words swirl around in my head while I head over to the others and gather my sleeping bag in my arms as I squeeze it. I kneel on the floor and roll it out between Price and Soap while my heart thunders in my chest. I’m still shivering as I do my best to be quiet while unzipping my sleeping bag, then slip down into it. My shoulders bump against Soap and Price before I shrink, curving my shoulders inward to try not to touch anyone despite that very much not being the point of sleeping like this.

Price shifts and turns towards me while I freeze, still shivering in place while I hold my breath until I see that his eyes are still closed. I release a small sigh of relief before choking on it as his eyes flash open. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as an apology perches on my tongue, but he says nothing. Instead, he shifts a bit closer without taking his eyes off mine, then lays an arm next to me before holding his other up a bit. An invitation.

I swallow and blink a few times as I take in the offer. Out of everyone, Price is the easiest for me to be around. He treats me like anyone else, he keeps his distance, and while he doesn’t hesitate to wield his authority, he wears it lightly. “Make a choice, soldier.” He murmurs with a voice gruff and deep from sleep. My jaw locks as a violent shiver wracks me before I force myself to shimmy closer to Price. I’m not about to freeze my ass off because of idiocy or stubbornness. He takes that as my answer and reaches out, hands wrapping around me and gathering me to him. The only noise I make is a small squeak as he pulls me against his hard body and I melt almost instantly into his warmth.

He cradles my face against the warm crook of his neck with his cheek resting against the top of my head. His other arm wraps around my waist and his hips shift slightly so his legs drape over mine while still in our respective sleeping bags. Like a heavy blanket. My heart is still beating fast as a hummingbird’s wings while my body fights my mind, but luckily, I’m so cold and tired that instinct wins out. My eyes shut and I feel my cheeks heat as his hand falls to the back of my neck, his gloved fingers gently kneading the skin. “Thanks.” I breathe and his grip tightens around me for a moment before he releases a long breath, draping me in the scent of his cigars. I don’t hear Price make another sound because I’ve fallen asleep before he takes another breath.

*     *     *

Price wakes early the next morning and I feel it the instant that he moves. I pull away without hesitation and his arms fall from around me while I avoid his gaze, my cheeks hot. I’m quick to roll up my sleeping bag and check over my pack while I cool down a bit. The morning passes and no one says a thing about our sleeping arrangements despite every soldier having to pass by Price and I while they took watch. Their eyes linger between us a bit, but I’ll take that over any smart comments.

We move out and the mission goes smoothly enough. Gaz and I perch on a cliffside while the others clear a town below. He’s my spotter while I keep a steady eye on the areas they’re heading into through my scope. Being a medic means I have steady hands, which makes me a hell of a sniper.

“So…did you know the Captain before being stationed here?” Gaz says quietly, the first words not mission related that he’s said to me today.

I scoff softly and keep my eye glued to my scope. “No. And if this is a way to get me to talk about the position Price and I were in this morning, it’s a poor segway. It was cold. We were all pressed together like sardines. That’s the end of it.”

“Right, right, sure.” He agrees and silence falls over us again. For a moment. “Ghost and I spoon all the time. Soap too. Like three little peas in a pod.”

I snort, unable to keep the corner of my mouth from lifting. “And leave Price out? Criminal.”

Gaz chuckles and the sound is warm, especially in this cold landscape. “Oh we invite him. He just doesn’t usually show much interest.”

“Hm. He is the captain. Maybe he has higher snuggle standards.”

“You saying the rest of us aren’t snuggle material?”

“Your words, not mine.”

“Ouch, newbie. You strike for the heart.”

“I’m a sniper and a medic. It’s kind of my job.”

Gaz chuckles again and I realize that I’m actually…having fun? At least a little bit, anyway. “I’ll get a laugh out of you eventually, newbie.” My mouth opens to reply before I see a flash of movement in the town below.

Two figures pass by a second-floor window and I spot a hatch on the roof. I focus and take a breath as I aim at the hatch, waiting. I take a second to flick on my coms. “Two tangos on the northeast roof. Hold position.” The hatch begins to open while I remain steady, all my attention on that roof and my gun.

“Copy.” Price’s voice comes over the coms before there’s silence. The hatch opens and I wait for them both to get out, making sure it’s closed behind them before shooting. My breath funnels out of my chest and I make the shots without blinking, the action practically reflexive after so long in service. Both fall without getting to fire off a shot. I’m pretty sure I hear Gaz curse quietly beside me.

“Tangos down. You’re clear to move forward.” I report, heaving a relieved sigh as I see them move through the last stretch of town without incident.

“Copy, move out. Nicely done.” Price responds and I finally get to move out of my horizontal position. I stretch just a bit, wincing as my muscles pinch from being in the same position for so long, before I pack my gun and turn to Gaz who is shaking his head slightly.

“You took out those guys like a damn surgeon.”

The corner of my mouth lifts again as we head out. “Sniper and medic, remember? Let’s get out of here. Your comrades are missing their third pea in their pod.” I comment dryly and he grins, following me down the path where we agreed to meet the others.

“Did you just make a joke?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You did. I’m flattered to be the first one to hear it. Was starting to worry you didn’t have a sense of humor at all.” I roll my eyes and we keep arguing playfully as we go. Gaz reports my shots to the team, talking me up while I shake my head, but from then on, he calls me Surgeon. It catches on and the others follow suit, but more often than not, they just call me G.

[thegnomelord]

Soooo I was going through my old drafts and I found some really weird au where the reader is some kind of ancient forest god and bc of the zombie apocalypse you end up with your own lil cult consisting of the 141 + vaqueros. Would ya'll want me to revisit it?

Here's the tldr past me made

And here's some screenshots that would most deffo be up for change/rewrite if I came back to it.

[the-whispers-of-death]

While it is gender-neutral, Reader has shoulder-length hair to symbolize that their kingdom is in a time of peace. Reader also is described as wearing clothes that flow beneath them as they dance, could be a dress or ceremonial robes up to you. Just wanted to write Knight!Price watching you dance and gushing internally over how breathtaking you look. Added some more lore to this AU. Part One, Part Two

**

It was a holy day for all of Orithia, it being the day your people celebrated your God of Life, Wixia, creating the kingdom. It was why the capital city was named Wixia, after the god, because he created the city first before creating the rest of the kingdom. Thus, your ancestors celebrated the day with a festival, The Festival of Creation, with Wixia being the city with the best festival in all of Orithia.

John was watching you dance with your subjects in the city square, all in a circle as hired musicians played various instruments and sang, songs of old hymns to the god Wixia filling the air. Everyone was having immense fun, but he could only look at you.

Your clothes were flowing beneath you as you danced and twirled, bright purple colors in your clothes, which represented that you were the Sovereign, were accentuated as the ends swirled as they flowed. Your smile was bright and your shoulder-length hair was braided in a style native to the Orithian culture. Even though your dance was energetic and lacking any true beat, you looked...ethereal.

He knew it made you uncomfortable when your other subjects tried to say you were like a deity that became mortal to grace the people of Orithia with your divine presence, but he couldn't help thinking of you as a deity. Every second he was near you felt like a blessing. He felt like he should be kissing your feet and erecting altars all over the kingdom so everyone could worship you.

John laughed heartily as he heard you whoop in exhilaration and he clapped on beat with the music, joining everyone who wasn't dancing in adding a layer of sound to the music by clapping along to the songs.

The atmosphere surrounding the festival felt electric as you and several others danced together, barefoot against the cobblestones of the city square to dance the best. The stars and moon in the night sky were your audience as you all twirled around, often linking arms together to spin each other around. No one paid attention to how hot it was, especially with the only light being from the huge fire in the middle of the city square.

"Sir John, come join us," you called out to him, smiling up at him as you continued to dance. You beckoned him to come into the circle where everyone was dancing.

He felt like he couldn't say no to you and he didn't really want to. Your joy was infectious and he wanted to be one of those whom you linked arms with as you danced.

John joined the circle of dancing, getting closer to you. His ceremonial cape that was held in place by his armor flowed behind him as he danced and twirled.

With you starting to sing along to the song currently being played, everyone else followed suit, their voices only adding to the atmosphere. The lyrics were praising Wixia, thanking Him for blessing the people of Orithia with his benevolence.

But John found himself silently praising you when your arm linked with his and you spun the both you around in a circle. The skin-to-skin contact made his heart skip a beat, his eyes dropping down to yours to hold eye-contact.

In that moment, time seemed to slow. All he could focus on was that he was dancing with you, the twirling around bring you two closer.

He was entranced by your striking eyes, enamored with your bright smile, only able to hear your beautiful voice singing along with the musicians. You two were so close he could smell the perfume/cologne you had put on and it was losing its scent since you were sweating due to dancing, but he could still smell it and he could feel your flowing clothes brush against his flowing cape.

When you eventually unlinked your arm from his and twirled away, it was like you took the bright light that had made the world bright with you, even though everything was technically the same. But as you danced with others, it took everything in him to keep dancing and not to be standing in place among the others, frozen at the absence of your presence beside him.

Since John was the head of the Royal Guard and unmarried, several people wanted to try and woo him as he danced alone. He linked arms with them and twirled around with them, but his eyes were still on you. It was easy for the unassuming eye to just chalk it up to him making sure you were safe, but if anyone looked closer they would see the love-stricken look in his eyes.

No one could turn him away from you, not even the nobles in your court. His eyes—and his heart—were on you.

But it didn't stop the over consuming guilt that came with loving you, like he was doing a grave betrayal to you by being in love with you when he should be focused on protecting you. You trusted him with your life and here he was, wanting to be more than a knight to you.

How selfish of him.

With those thoughts, John finally tore his eyes away from you. He focused on dancing, enjoying the joy around him.

He didn't look at you unless it was to ensure you were still safe every so often, missing your glances at him as you made your way back to where he was dancing so you could dance with him again.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[lunarw0rks]

i’m not saying könig would fold u in half but that’s what i’m saying

[yardofangels]

hai, what do you think readers reaction would be to seeing König in a proper tailored suit for the first time? whether it's for a date or taking her to a friends wedding. love your writing btw! ^_^

OMG BABY'S FIRST REQUEST (its me im baby)

so glad you like my writing!! hope you enjoy this :3

----

SHE WOULD LOSE IT

she stumbles on him in bathroom or the bedroom lazily doing his tie up, unaware that she's staring from behind the door frame. his sleeves rolled up to his forearms because he cant stand the feeling of the cuffs tickling his wrists (god forbid wearing cuff links), accentuating his fuck-off large biceps.

reader just wants to jump him. he looks so handsome, a suit is the most timeless way to flatter a man. and flatter it does. she swears he has more of a waist than she does, the way it pulls in and sticks tightly to his chest and hips, she can see every single muscle rolling under the white fabric, reminding her of how they roll when he... yeah! his shoulders contorting as he smooths out the tie and flicks his collar down, she can't take her eyes off it.

and lord, there is something so satisfying about seeing her usually roughed-up and careless man all prim and proper. no scruffy stubble, no dirt under his nails, no hair covering his forehead. the fabric just CLINGING to him everywhere it matters, and as he shifts slightly on his feet, purely acting from his subconscious, his thighs tense. jesus christ, the material was almost too tight. did they fuck up his measurements or something? was he even able to move?? surely he could move enough to...

she's struggling to keep it together.

konig notices a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, and it came as no surprise for him that it was her. he turns around with a grin on his face, able to read what's on her mind.

"you like it, schatz?"

stupid question. but, a rhetorical question. he cuts her off before she can respond, leaning down to give her a quick kiss.

"of course i like it." she mumbles while touching up his hair. even after slicking it back, a few strands were falling over his eyes.

his aftershave is circling around her, making it harder to concentrate.

"i am still not sure about this...look. feels too fancy for me." konig shifts on his feet again, staring down at the ground. he never liked dressing up, not ever. makes him feel out of place.

"maybe a little, but that's alright, baby. it won't matter when it's on the floor."

[natelia-aldelliz]

They exchanged their dog tags because they're cuties

Ghost isn't sure if he prefers Johnny Riley or Simon MacTavish, though, he'd probably doodle both and draw little hearts around it as he's pondering the question

Price : okay, you've been sighing and staring at nothing more than usual, what's up

Ghost : if you had a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or whatever, and they're probably thinking about getting married, would they take your name or would you take theirs ?

Price :

Ghost : cause i have this friend, and it's happening to him right now and he's getting a little overwhelmed so he asked me but i don't know so i'm asking you

Price : *sigh* right, a friend, so you should probably tell him to ask his boyfriend about what he thinks, first off, and to consider just putting a hyphen between both names, and also chilling the fuck out because you just pulled your heads out of your arses and started dating two weeks ago

Ghost :

Price : *tired dad stare*

Ghost : so, what sounds better, Riley-MacTavish or MacTavish-Riley ?