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mariamakeslemons · 16 days

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Oh, would you look at that? Price is acting like a papa, @ghouljams. I think it's an omen...

Price looks up in surprise as Lilac peers over the wall, obviously looking for someone. He raises an eyebrow as she pouts, looking like the child she is, before she seems to spot him. Immediately, she perks up and looks around, back toward the cottage.

Witch had to step out, visiting one of the shops that might overwhelm the little witch, leaving her little trainee alone. But for the girl to reach out to him? She must want something.

“I-I made these,” she declares, setting out a plate of cookies. Price isn’t able to hold the surprise off his face, smelling the spice of cinnamon and the sweet of vanilla in the oatmeal cookie.

“Oh? As a gift?” he asks, leaning on the wall.

“As an ex-exchange,” Lilac replies, “I wanna kn-know Miss Witch’s f-favorite dessert.” His mouth twitches up at her and leans on the wall, picking up one of the cookies.

“Shouldn’t you already know?” he pokes gently, looking over the cookie curiously. The girl flushes and wrings her hands nervously.

“Miss Witch k-keeps getting me t-treats. A-an-and she’s really nice and patient w-with me,” Lilac explains, “I h-haven’t seen what t-treats she likes, so…”

“You offer something for the information,” Price hums, finally taking a bite from the cookie. Lilac nods as the tiny tether settles, one that’s fragile due to knowledge of the exchange. Price hums again, mulling over the information he’s picked up about his pretty witch while enjoying the little one’s baking.

“She tends to like...,” he starts, smiling at how Lilac perks up eagerly, listening with a little serious frown on her face as he prattles off all the desserts he knows Witch likes. She pulls out one of her little notebooks and writes them down, nodding as she listens. He feels the tether snap, but doesn’t stop, amused at the little witch’s inherit kindness.

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“So, I seem to have some treats made by Lilac,” you comment a few days later, sitting across from Price in the garden.

“Oh? Is that so?” Price hums, sipping on his mulled wine. His mouth twitches up as you give him an absolutely deadpan look. You roll your pretty eyes before nibbling on said treat. The way your face softens, how you relax and enjoy the treat, causes Price to chuckle. A part of him swells with pride, seeing how his favor led to his pretty witch enjoying something with a sweet smile on your face. However, his eyes trail toward the window, where Lilac is peeking out to the garden. The smile on her little face is just as precious, all the better.

“She didn’t make a tether with you, did she?” you ask, looking at him curiously.

“She did,” he admits with a shrug, “But it was paid off immediately.” Witch looks surprised, making the omission of who made the tether all the sweeter. He leans on the table, chuckling again when Lilac peeks through the window again. He tells you, “The little witch can bake, so she shared some cookies with me.”

“That would make sense as a payment,” you agree with a hum. Price hums as well, amused at your thoughtful expression. However, something niggles at his thoughts. Did Lilac know she was making a tether with her offer? Was that why she prepared the exchange before even asking her question? Price takes a long drink of his mulled wine, mind running as the little witch finally steps out into the garden, frowning as the tarot deck in her hand keeps trying to escape her still-too-small hands.

“M-Miss Witch,” Lilac calls while frowning at the ground, “I-I think I lost s-some of the cups.” You sigh in exasperated fondness as Price tries not to choke on the wine as he fights back laughter. The mystery can wait, he decides as you stand from your seat to help Lilac find her lost cards. Although, Price muses, making you a mama might not be able to wait, watching you gently scold her for losing said cards while finding one.

#my work #price x witch #Witch #captain john price #Racheal Lilac

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frogchiro · 9 months

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gentle bites and kisses on the womb tattoo i’m

Forest witch!Reader who can't do shit around the rowdy pack of werewolves :((

They would always be around you, whether in wolf or human forms and while it's not a technically bad thing in itself, the problems are Soap and Gaz :((

While Price and Simon are much bigger sure, and have a lot more strength but they are older, mature and not as clingy as their young packmates :((

Soap and Gaz who follow you around all the time while you gather herbs or berries, mushrooms and such, always next to you, but their favorite activity is to nose around your lower belly where your precious womb tattoo is :((

They liie to lick and kiss it, the occassional gentle nip to the delicate skin sometimes results in them getting snarled at by Simon and Price when they get too excited and bite a bit too hard but you don't blame your boys since they didn't do anything.

If they're in their wolf forms they love to drape thwmselves around you and nose and dilligently lick at your lower tummy in hopes of sniffing out a tiny change in your scent that would signal you being pregnant with their babies :((

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #forest witch!reader #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader

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witchthewriter · 10 days

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𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡-𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐧

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: fluffy fluff

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

Being on deployment meant no proper affection. Being on deployment for two months without it was making your husband go insane. When he got home, he had never been so affectionate.

𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆

It felt like the journey home was excruciating. John was clinging to his back for dear life. His knuckles going white from how tight he squeezed.

Coming to his driveway; the beginning of a long winding gravel road. Eventually, he came to the cottage door and swung it open (you left it unlocked when you knew he was coming home).

As soon as he saw you, his hands slipped around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you around with his head in the crook of your neck "Ooh- John! I missed you too but I'm going to knock something over-"

"Don't care-" he mumbled.

His face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck. Taking in your smell, grasping you just as hard as he was grasping his bag.

"Oh John-" you cooed, stroking his hair, running your hands up and down his back.

"I'm sorry darling," he says moving his head to look at you face to face. "I just- fuck. I just missed you so goddamn much."

And then he went back to molding himself against you, giving you small kisses here and there.

𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑹𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚

You had always seen a different side to Simon then other people. The gruff exterior didn't rattle you one bit. Well... that's because he never spoke to you how he spoke to everyone else.

He always treated you with love, respect, dignity and equality. Not something that everyone can say.

That's how you knew he was going to be your life partner.

And as his partner, you know how physical touch means to him.

He isn't one to ask for comfort, but will initiate it. Particularly when he's been on deployment for a long time. That's when you get puppy dog Simon, who keeps you by his side.

"Are you alright?" You said in a quiet, soothing voice. Simon's head was resting on your shoulder as you watched the new Bridgerton.

He'd been quiet for a while, not unusual; but the comfortable silence had been tension-gripped since he came home yesterday.

"Yeah," your husband grumbled, shifting his head from your shoulder to your lap.

One of your hands was on his head, dragging your fingers over his scalp. The other hand rested on his neck. You felt the goosebumps on his skin, a small smile on your lips.

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉

Every time Johnny came home, you would hear him before you'd see him. As an extrovert, he's vocal about the lack of affection he's recieved

"BONNIE, I'M HOME!" He continuously bellows in his loud thick Scottish accent. Walking around the house, practically hunting you in your own home.

Dropping whatever you were holding onto the bed, you raced down from the bedroom and nearly squealed.

"Johnny!" You yelled, helping him locate you.

"There ye are!" He replied, thudding towards you with his big boots still on his feet.

In a quick movement, he scoops you into his arms and presses you to his chest. A move you were all too familiar with now.

His hands grip you tight, his neck dipping to press into your neck. He took a big whiff.

"Are you smelling me, again?"

"Aye. Is that a problem?" He replied, not loosening his grip on you. Nor letting you move.

𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌

Your loverboy, always so tender and caring. He never puts his needs before your own.

So instead of rushing inside and nearly bulldozing you over, he's gentle in his search for you (although he never needs to search too long)

It's usually you who initiates the affection.

It's like Kyle is still decompressing from his time away.

And you're all too happy to help him. His affection makes you feel fuzzy inside.

But whenever he comes home, you want to be the first to initiate; you want to be the romantic one.

And he appreciates it to no end. He feels so loved when you woo him after coming home.

"Thank you, love." He whispers in your ear as you hold him in your emrace. The bouquet of flowers in his hand. A slight blush over his face.

"Anything, and I mean anything, for you Kyle." You whisper back, planting kisses over him.

𝑲𝒐̈𝒏𝒊𝒈

Your huge Austrian husband does his best not to wake you in the early hours of the morning.

And even though he has the squeaks in the floorboards memorised, his heavy foot falls still give him away. Subconsciously wanting you to wake.

You weren't really sleeping anyhow. You were too excited for him to return home.

Hearing your bedroom door open, you instantly called out your husband's name.

"It's me schatz! Just me-" he said quickly. The tension eased from your body and you audibly sighed. Months of pent up stress and fear (for both his safety and your own) whooshed away.

Kicking the blankets from your body, you rolled out of bed and jumped into König's arms.

They were outstretched - ready for you.

He was always ready for you when he came home. Nearly a tradition where you practically throw yourself into his arms.

"Do you know how much I missed you?" The same words he says every time he comes home.

"Yes," you whisper back to him. Because your heart always aches the same amount as his.

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 11 months

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Only Yours

Witch/Demon AU: Price

Pairing: demon!Captain John Price x witch!reader

Warnings: suggestive mdni (18+), teasing, marking/scent, posessive!price, monsterfucking?, afab!reader

The air is hot.

Your house always ran a little warmer when he was around even during the summer months. Usually it was bearable, never enough to make you warm to where you need to change your clothes or to turn on a fan, and you always know that he's around when you get that cozy feeling.

Except this time it wasn't cozy.

Sweat pooled at your hairline and ran down you neck. You were stripped down to just a tank top and shorts because no matter how much you turn up the AC or try to cool yourself down with the countless spells you know, nothing was working. You wanted to take a shower, to get some sort of relief from the heat inside of your house but you couldn't move from your spot in between the counter in the kitchen and the demon who pressed you up against it.

Smoke curled around you, filling your nose with the bitter smell of cigar and ash that would stick to your clothes, your hair, and even your skin weeks after he would be gone.

Just as he wants it to.

Claws, dangerous and sharp drag gently across your burning skin which caused a shiver to run up your spine. His hands are so much bigger than yours and you feel him run them up your arms before one gently cups your breast through the thin tank top, your bra completely discarded because you were just so hot.

You whine as he massages his fingertips into the plump flesh, careful of his claws as he gently pulls at your nipple.

His other hand runs down to your hip, the tips of his claws peaking through the waist band of your shorts as he pushes you back against him more. He rolls your hips for you, having you grind against his hard cock which makes you clench around nothing as you imagine what it would feel like to have him inside of you.

You imagine the way he'd push into you, splitting you open while he would thrust deep inside of you that you'd see stars. The tip of his cock would hit every part of you that'd have you shaking, crying out for him to keep going and he would, he wouldn't think to stop until you couldn't stand on your own anymore and even then he might just keep going.

You're aching for him, desperate for a release after being teased for so long. Your panties are soaked through from your slick and from the amount of sweat that's on your body you're sure all he would have to do is just slide in.

His lips press against the back of your neck and you gasp when you feel the bristles of his beard tickle you. Your stomach flips as he starts to trail slow, hot kisses behind your ear, stopping to suck a mark there as he continues to press himself against you.

He pinches your nipple, sending a jolt through you and you moan, becoming dizzy from the heat, the smoke, and the feeling of his tongue running against your pulse as he places more kisses across your neck.

"Price..." You're breathless as you grip the edge of the counter tightly when his hand moves into your shorts.

You can't see him, can't turn your head to kiss him on the lips, but you know he looks beastly. Horns and glowing yellow eyes full of desire, lust, need stare at you. A sinful, demonic presence that demands your attention, demands your claim and you'll gladly give it to him as he teases your entrance with his dangerous hands that treat you like you're priceless china.

Price presses a finger past your slit, gathering up your slick as you writhe beneath him while he continues to assault your neck with open mouthed kisses. He teases your entrance, purposefully moves his fingers around your puffy clit to make you whine for him.

"You're all mine, you know that?" He whispers in your ear as he moves his other hand on top of yours, threading his fingers through yours. "My little witch, all for me."

All you can do is nod and squeeze his fingers as you wait for him to finally give you what you need and for him to take what he wants.

Tags: @coleishere

A/N: this au is in my mind often hope you enjoy there will be more to come

#captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #price x reader #captain price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #captain price #john price x you #john price #captain john price #mw2 price #witch!reader #demon!141 #demon!price

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ethereal-night-fairy · 4 months

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Forgotten Sorrows

Fae!Soap x Female Reader (Rún)

This story was completely inspired by @ghouljams Fae!Au of COD MW.

I'm rewriting this series. I don't know when it'll be back

When worlds collide

Remnants of the past

Old habits - New beginnings

Thorns and Kisses

Muse's Lament

Relief after Rain

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ghouljams · 3 months

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More of fae!Price and his magic fingers because I'm so *screaming into pillow*

He presses you down against the bed, kissing you. You hold his face, scratch your fingers through his beard, as he turns you, stretches out alongside you. He hooks his arm behind your head to keep you close and only pulls away long enough to tell you, "takin' these off," it that way that feels like half a question. You're quick to help him get your panties down, quick to shiver and spread your legs when he rubs his finger along your slit, stopping to circle your clit. He gives it a light tap and trails his finger back down to your hole.

You raise your hips a little, just enough to entice him to press his finger into you, and you feel yourself make a soft noise against his lips as he pushes in. He licks the noise out of your mouth, his tongue twisting with soft movements against your own. You half expect him to start in on you, but he eases you open with his finger, the gentle in and out as he strokes your walls makes you shiver and try to follow the movement with you hips. You can feel him smile against your lips when he brushes over your sweet spot and you let out a quiet whine.

It's enough encouragement for him to add a second finger. When you attempt to break the kiss to watch him, Price pulls you back in, licks his broad tongue over your lips and tips your head back. You're dizzy trying to keep up. He jabs you sweet spot and you moan against his lips, his fingers twist and you whimper. You feel your hips buck, and your back arch off the bed to try and keep up with the jab, jab, twist of his thick digits. Each time he works you up, hits the right spot, he pulls back to stroke your gummy walls. Teasing until you moan with each thrust of his fingers, and your own grip his shirt so tightly you worry it might rip. You're hardly kissing him, panting against his lips as you arch against his chest, your head tipping back as your eyes roll. Price nips at your throat, his fingers focused on hitting the soft spongey spot that makes your stomach tighten. You could light a fire with the heat he fucks into you, the pleasure that zips up your spine is unlike anything else.

His fingers work you faster, more precisely, and the sound changes. The wet smack of his fingers is different, doesn't need his palm to hit you to be loud and noticeable, and it is loud. You'd be more concerned if it didn't feel so good, everything just keeps getting hotter and tighter in the pit of your stomach. Price groans, his lips just brushing your ear, "Fuck that is a good girl." You clench on his fingers, feel him pull back to add a third, twisting them in and out of your cunt, giving you a burn so delicious it almost makes up for the coil in your stomach. He draws back, rubs his wet fingers up over your clit. "Little break sweetheart, then back to it," he tells you, kissing your cheek. Break from what you don't know, but the attention to your clit adds a new tension to your spine that tingles over your skin. He doesn't stay there long before pushing two fingers back into your cunt.

Again. The work up to those loud squishing noises is shorter this time, his fingers are more precise, they give you less time to get used to the short jabs of pleasure. The pressure doesn't stop building, and you can't do anything but pant and moan. Price kisses you, and murmurs sweetness that you hardly understand. He asks you a question, you think. You try to get a word out, any word, but you feel too scrambled to talk, his fingers don't stop. Your everything feels tight enough to break, like you're holding something back. You nearly cry when he pulls out his fingers to play with your clit again. You want nothing more than for him to fuck you right now, his fingers aren't enough to break whatever dam he's beating at.

Again. He kisses you until you can't hold it anymore, until your eyes are squeezed shut and you're arching off the bed. Price's teeth tease your neck, you dig your nails into his shirt and bemoan the fact that they aren't digging into his skin. His fingers- you are going to ban him from fingering you- his fingers jab, hard and fast, up and down, in and out, until you are writhing, begging (with no words, "Can't even talk, can you?" Price coos) for a release. "Come on," Price encourages, the deep rumble of his voice in your ear as you sob and moan for him gives you little comfort, "come on, give it to me sweetheart, one more."

Something breaks. The pressure doesn't release, but something does, something warm and wet. You feel it when it leaves you, feel it soak the bed under you, feel it soak your thighs, hear Price moan and feel his hard cock press against your leg as he holds you open. He pulls back and watches your pussy, pulls his fingers from you and rubs them over the slit. You heave in a breath, look down at him between your legs, watch him studying you with rapt attention. His shirt is sprayed with drops of wet, and you can see it glistening on his forearm. You shudder when he drags his fingers over your clit. You feel boneless.

"Fuck that is sexy," he breathes, leaning down to drag his tongue over your dripping cunt. It's a short but broad stroke, enough to wet his beard before he sits back again. Your hips jump away from his fingers as you try to get your bearings.

"What did-"

"Didn't think you'd squirt like that, should've gotten undressed," he fills in. Your eyes roll back as he pushes his fingers into you, he jabs your sweet spot with another few short quick thrusts and you feel another break of wet. It's strange, you've never- you didn't even know you could- it doesn't feel the same, but the release... you reach down to feel the slick coating your thighs as Price pulls his fingers free.

"Fuck," you whine, you can feel how soaked the bedspread is, your thighs aren't any better. Price sucks his fingers clean and opens his fly, pushing his pants down to pull his flushed cock free. You've never seen him so hard. You own fingers spread your pussy for him and you hear the growl deep in his chest as he strokes himself to the sight.

"That's my girl," he tells you, lining up his cock with your entrance, "always wanting more, greedy little-" whatever you are is lost to the loan groan he lets out as he fills you, lost to the soft gasp you draw in at the stretch. "Fuck, this pussy," he praises and you whimper.

"John, please."

He shakes his head and you watch his shoulders moving with the effort of drawing in each breath as he waits to move. "Never wanna hear anyone say my name but you," he says finally, pulling out to slam back into you, "so scream it loud sweetheart."

You do. Good lord you do.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #captain price mw2 #captain price #captain john price #captain price x reader #captain price x female reader #john price #john price x reader #price cod #price mw2 #oc: witch #fae!price #i know he isnt doing anything fae but this is in that au so idc #price x witch

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mariamakeslemons · 1 month

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I'm playing in @ghouljams sandbox, with a tiny, hurt child. She's a combination "normal" person and unable to see her own hurt.

I don't own Witch, that's Ghoul's OC/Reader insert. I do own Racheal/Lilac.

Racheal shakes as she hesitates to knock on the door. Granny told her that the witch living here may be her only hope of actually understanding the magic she has. But the witch here also has ancestral magic instead of having to rely solely on the magic her own body creates. Which Racheal has to do. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, the girl knocks on the door and flinches at the sound she’s made, clinging to her barely made grimoire tightly.

The door opens and the prettiest woman blinks down at her, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Are you lost, sweetie?” she asks Racheal. Squeaking, the girl shakes her head and hands the woman her Granny’s letter. The woman blinks before accepting the letter, frowning at the writing before turning back to Racheal with a smile.

“You might as well come in, okay?” the woman offers with a smile. Racheal nods and scurries in, glancing over her shoulder nervously. The woman hums and moves through her house with ease, leaving Racheal to scurry after her.

“So, how old are you, sweetheart?” the woman asks, as she opens the letter.

“…E-eleven, ma’am,” Racheal answers, flinching at the woman suddenly stopping in the hall. Slowly, the woman turns to look at Racheal, her hand moving to toy with the hagstone necklace she has.

“…Eleven,” she repeats, and Racheal can’t do anything but nod. Granny always said she was too stupid to start learning when everyone else started, because she couldn’t even tell what the difference between using lavender or using sage would do to certain spells as a five year old. The woman closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before a smile crosses her face.

“Well, let me finish reading this and we’ll start outlining what to do to help you,” the woman offers with a nice smile. Racheal perks up at that, eager to learn what she can and hopefully please at least one of her teachers.

“Y-yeah! That s-sounds like a plan!” Racheal agrees, flinching at her stutter. Granny told her proper witches don’t do that, but she can’t really help it. It just comes out. But, she thinks while looking up at the woman who only smiles at her excitement, maybe it’s just a coven thing.

“Okay,” the woman says after Racheal dropped off her meager belongings in the spare room she had pointed out (Racheal wasn’t really allowed too much, she was too stupid to own things according to Granny), “Let’s lay out some rules. One, I’m to be called Witch, okay? That is what the majority of people know me as, and it’s easier to remember than knowing my actual name.”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” Racheal agrees easily enough. That’s easy to remember. Miss Witch smiles at her, her eyes softening nicely.

“Now, I need to know your fae name,” she instructs, “Because that’s what I’ll refer to you in public with.”

“It’s S-Stupid,” Racheal answers. Miss Witch sighs and smiles, almost looking amused.

“I’m sure it’s not, sweetie,” she says, “You don’t have to be shy.”

“Oh, uh,” Racheal starts, realizing that Miss Witch didn’t understand, “N-no. I m-mean, my n-name. It’s Stupid.” Miss Witch freezes, her smile in place, but something brewing under her pretty eyes. Slowly, her face changes to something thunderous and Racheal shrinks on herself, waiting for the strike that’s sure to come. She’d deserve it, after all. She upset Miss Witch.

“No,” the woman says, startling Racheal, “I’m not calling you that. We’ll think of something else.” Racheal blinks at her, confused by her reaction as Miss Witch hems and haws over a thought.

“What’s your favorite color?” she asks suddenly. Racheal jumps, blinking at her in shock.

“…I can h-have one of th-those?” Racheal replies, stunned. She’d heard about that sort of thing, favorite things. Granny told her that only smart people could have them, that she’s too stupid to have any kind of preference. Miss Witch hums and nods, although something in her face tells Racheal that she’s angry. But, she wants to know what color is her favorite. And she really likes purples, especially light purples like…

“Lilac,” Racheal decides.

“Then, that’s what I’ll call you,” Miss Witch tells her. Racheal, Lilac, smiles and nods eagerly, only to jump at a knocking noise from what looks like Miss Witch’s backyard. The woman huffs, almost fondly, before patting Lilac’s head.

“Stay here, okay, sweetie? I need to speak with someone,” she tells Lilac with a smile. Lilac nods eagerly and stays right there, although she wonders if Miss Witch would be upset if she sat on the floor. She’s really tired from having to stay up to catch the train, then the plane, then the bus, then the other train. Maybe she can sit for a minute, then stand back up.

“I’m going to kill a fellow witch,” you chirp to Price, holding back every piece of rage you feel. He raises a brow at your declaration, surprised that you decided to greet him with that.

“Is it the little one in your house?” he asks, curious.

“No, she’s the reason why I’m ready to commit murder,” you tell him. The poor girl is too thin and small, obviously malnourished. Then there’s the stutter and that name. Oh, that name. And to top everything off, the witch who sent her wrote the letter like complaining about a stray animal that needs to be put down, not a child that needs to be guided.

“Deep breaths, love,” Price soothes, reaching across the bricks to grasp your hand within his. You comply, taking a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

“She’s eleven and, according to the letter, she barely knows what the herbs do, let alone any spells,” you tell him. Price freezes at that, obviously understanding what you’re implying. After all, witchcraft is a craft, one that must be started young to be able to use the magic safely and confidently. Most witches start by reading to their children from their own grimoire, teaching what a symbol or plant means and is used for.

“…A child,” Price sighs, smoke pouring out of his mouth like a waterfall.

“An abused child,” you correct, watching as he breathes out of his nose, hard. Smoke bursts out of his nostrils like a bull or a dragon, an anger burning in his eyes and you find yourself at ease.

The relationship between children and fae is always tricky. A child could be coveted or prey, depending on the fae in question. However, with Price’s reaction, you can tell he would rather burn down the world than harm a child. Perhaps it has to do with how children are easy prey, something that Price has told you was boring. Perhaps it has to do with what little you’ve found out about Ghost, the fae following L- no, she needs a different name… Pink? Sunny? Ugh, well, the fae that follows the Shop Keeper’s friend around.

“I’ll tell my boys to behave around her,” Price said, pulling you from your musing. He smiles, “That’ll spread the word that she’s under my protection.”

“You don’t even know her,” you argue without any heat. Price chuckles, leaning against the wall with that sly grin of his.

“You like her, pretty witch,” he purrs, sending a shiver down your spine, “That’s more than enough for me.” You huff, but the smile that fights its way on your face probably tells him how amused you are by his declaration.

“I should finish getting her settled in,” you tell him, brushing your hand against his own. Price catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’ll see you around then,” he promises, giving your hand a soft squeeze before pulling away. You turn back to your home and go inside, only to stop and sigh. Lilac is curled up on the floor, asleep, with her grimoire clutched in her arms. The dark circles under her eyes tell you how little sleep the girl gets and you feel another wave of anger threaten to drown you. How could anyone do this to a child, let alone one who so obviously wants to please? When you get the chance, you’re going to burn down the witch’s house and adopt the girl. Or, maybe help her find a family if you can’t.

#my work #captain john price #Witch #Price x Witch #Racheal Lilac #@ghouljams #I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with contacting people #TW: Child abuse #It's only a mention but still there

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mausinly · 5 months

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1fae1 au and oc belong to @ghouljams sorry for haunting your inbox btw

Price runs cold, it comes with being in the court of winter. He isn't corpse freezing, though he definitely can be if he so pleases. Rather, he feels cool. Cool like a gust of wind or soft rain under the power of the unforgiving sun, cool like a shower after a long day of work, washing away the tension in your muscles and the worry of your brow.

Like the bastard that he is, it never fails to amuse him when his cold hands make his little witch yelp and swat at him. He doesn't pull away. Instead, he drags his fingers over her skin, delighting in the goosebumps that are left in their wake. His hands slip under the fabric of whatever pretty dress she has on that day, and he chuckles low and deep when she shivers but makes no effort to push him away.

His witch runs hot. Everything she touches is warm, like a long embrace. Every potion she crafts goes down like the thickest liquor, every charm like a freshly dried blanket over your shoulders.

Everything except for him.

A chill sweeps through her little cottage when he breaks through the threshold, despite the warm lamps and candles and the fire raging under her cauldron that make her home feel like a furnace. She can always feel him coming. Like seeing dark clouds in the distance yet neglecting to find shelter before the storm comes.

He knows exactly why his witch burns like the sun, blood running with all the warmth of a summer fae. Even so, he marvels at how human she feels under his palms. Her every curve and dip so smooth and lush. She hums so sweetly when he drags his thumbs over her cheeks, dousing the blazing skin.

He can nearly feel the steam billowing into the air when his lips meet hers. Their bodies lay entangled in the thick sheets and covers of her bed, and he can feel the warmth buzzing just above his skin. He watches her, taking in the serenity of her expression. The tension in her muscles and the worry of her brow have long since washed away. He watches her and startles himself with the suffocating feeling in his chest. Like a dam breaking, her searing touch sinks into his bones and he takes a breath like his head has been under water for centuries.

For the first time, the devil's heart aches.

#maus writes #this is shorter than i wanted it to be but idk blurb style works for me #and i have like 3 full oneshots in my wips so womp womp #1fae1 #john price x oc #john price x reader #fae!price #uhhhh idk what else to tag #cod #call of duty #?#anyway live laugh love witch

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witchthewriter · 2 months

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Y/N: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. Gaz: I think you mean cards. *Y/N, pulling knives out of their sleeves* Y/N: No, I do not.

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 9 months

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Boundaries pt. 1

Witch/Demon AU (where the read is a witch and has a pact with all of the demon!141)

The funny thing about having a pact with a demon is that you can technically summon them at any given point. There’s not a guarantee that said demon will show up, as they have their own business to attend to, seeing as you’re a witch with four pacts, you magic is quite powerful.

That’s to say, when you summon the boys, they will come because you force them to.

It’s rare that you do summon them. You understand that they still have a job to do and that they busy often, but when you do summon them, they know that they’re in deep shit.

“I can’t believe I expected any of you to have the common decency to treat my house with respect!” You flail your arms around wildly. “I let all of you into my house, eat my food, sleep here and this is the thanks I get?”

You’ve been yelling at them for nearly 30 minutes now and not a single one of them has uttered a word. They’re all sat on the couch while you pace and stomp in front of them, scolding them like they’re children, which you would argue they are.

Normally it was one of the sergeants that got a got scolding from you (though not to this level) but even Price was in the hot seat this time.

It all started because you needed to deal with some witch business in another city. All you needed was someone to watch your house for you, to keep things in order and to make sure no hauntings get out of hand.

And it just so happened that they boys were on leave, so you figured you could trust them to keep things under control while you were gone for two days.

You were wrong.

The potions you had spent hours making were mixed, destroyed and otherwise unusable because Soap got curious. Price burned a huge hole into your couch and your rug because he dropped his cigar. Gaz had shattered most of the lights in your house due to him getting angry at a game of football, and Ghost punched a hole in your wall because he got scared by an actual ghost.

And then they made it worse by trying to “fix” everything. You came back to a destroyed house seeing red with none of them in sight.

“All of you are banned from my house until you can prove to me that you won’t trash it!” You declared.

“How can we prove it if we can’t come in?” Soap was brave, or maybe just stupid, enough to say something.

“Just get out!”

You very quickly sent them back to wherever they came from and just like that, they had officially been kicked out of the house.

You immediately put up all of the protection wards you knew, did everything that wards demons out, and even blocked off the entire section of the street to them.

To say you were furious was an understatement.

And the boys were devastated.

Not only was their pride hurt because they were just ripped a new one by you, but they genuinely feel bad for what happened. All of it had been an accident, none of them had meant for any of that to happen even when they were trying to fix the mess and made it worse.

They wanted to apologize for it and they tried. They sent you texts, tried to call you, even sent you emails and letter mail to get in contact with you but you were giving them the silent treatment.

You completely cut them off and they were starting to really miss you. How could they not? You were their little witch and they wanted to see you again to let you know that they wouldn't let it happen again.

So after a lot of bribing and begging from everyone you heard a knock on your door a few weeks later and opened it to see a woman with blonde hair.

"Can I help you?" You wondered and she gave you a smile.

"I'm Kate Laswell, I work with Captain Price and his boys." She introduced herself and you stared at her with confusion. "You're the witch, correct?"

She couldn't be a demon or else she wouldn't have been able to even get to your front door. She looked human, though looks can be deceiving, but you couldn't think of what she could be.

"Can I come in?"

A/N: will finish this hopefully tomorrow just had to get this out

#witch!reader #demon!141 #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

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bubuslutty · 1 year

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NOW YOU KNOW WHAT YOU WERE DOING WITH THAT BOMB AHH WITCH READER FIC 😭💗💗💗

I CAN SEE IT NOW

John itching to help her cook, despite her telling him she's fine as she makes her finest dinner for their adult kids—ahem, most trusted men's arrival?? Mama may be a witch but her motherly senses be tingling and it says THESE MEN HAS NOT HAD A PROPER MEAL, JOHN. 😭

And a certain point where she finally stops for a bit to let the stew she's cooking do its magic, John immediately jumps to the opportunity to give his beloved the most absolute, cheesy and tooth-rotting kiss. I mean, straight up wedding-dip his sweetheart as if a priest had just said 'you may now kiss the bride' 🥲💗

ughshddjhd your mind is amazing 💞💕💖

I'm actually so happy you enjoyed it!! I've got so many ideas for that little universe 😫

your thoughts always make me so so happy so Thank you 🌹❤️

the bear in the witch's hut (all parts)

title: European Robins in my palms

word count: 2.3k

warning: nsfw (like one scene) but all fluffy throughout the whole thing!!!!

John had to take all of his special unit back to his childhood home and farm, at least once. And he didn’t think he’d enjoy it so much, having his brothers with him in his home with his parents and wife, together.

They had to ride for days to get to his village, and Kyle would point out the greenery and mountains, how beautiful these parts of the land were, and Price would smile, proud and happy to be going home, to his love. Simon would be basking in the sun, on the back of his horse, half listening to Johnny and sometimes interrupting him to tell him some of the unfunniest jokes on earth.

And when they would finally reach their farm, Price’s parents and his wife would be waiting for them, by the entrance. Price would hop down his horse, and open his arms for his wife, as she runs and jumps in his arms, kissing him all over and squeezing him tight. John’s witch was not afraid to show affection to her husband, not publicly and especially privately, be damned society’s expectations and rules, nothing will stop her from running to her husband, skirts riding up her naked legs and one of the sleeves sliding down one shoulder and hair a mess. Fuck being proper.

And he loved her so much for that, chucking everything that would make her a proper lady out of the window in favour of loving him so openly, as he truly deserves.

That fact about her would not go unnoticed by his brothers. What a sight she was, beautiful and so inviting in her laughs and smiles. It was more than evident how much she loved him and how much he loved her back.

When her legs were on the ground again, she will turn to the other men, pushing her hair out of her face and grinning like the fucking sun in the middle of summer, sticking out her hand. And she would receive grins and three kisses at the back of her hand.

Price’s parents would greet their son, commenting on his evergrowing beard and bigger build, but then they would turn to the other men, giving each a bone-crushing hug that would warm them from the inside out.

After they will obviously get settled in the cleared-out rooms that Price’s parents and his wife prepared, stretching their tired limbs and getting a proper bath to wash away all the sweat and grim that cold river water couldn’t wash away. You better believe Price will try every trick in the book to get her to stay with him, in his room for the next hours. He knows she has things to do, like helping his parents cook them a proper meal. But he tends to become needy, selfish and straight-out unreasonable sometimes when he’s in the same vicinity as her for the first time in weeks.

He wants his wife, for the love of everything good and gracious. Is that too much to ask for?

But John ends up getting his way in the end, not only he has her help him bathe, but he tried his mighty best to stretch it out as much as he could, like, “Honey, I think you’ve missed this spot on my back- Can you just-”

And his wife would wash his back for him, an amused smile on her lips, indulging him and running a cloth over the muscles and fat under his freckled skin, then she would press her fingers on the knots in his shoulders and dip of his back, making his head drop, feeling immediate relief.

Then she would somehow end up against the wall of the bathroom, skirts hunched up around her waist and his knee keeping her legs spread as he continuously plunges his fingers inside her wet cunt over and over again, while his other hand is covering her mouth so her delicious sounds wouldn't be heard.

And when she cums, she’s shaking all over and her legs are wobbly and Price has a stupid smile on his face as he rubs her back, helping her calm her frantic heart. His darling has then to stand against the wall, holding her skirts in her arms as he’s kneeling by her feet, a cloth cleaning up the mess she’s made of herself between her legs.

“I was supposed to be the one taking care of you…” She mumbled, cheeks hot.

Price glanced up at her and chuckled, “You are.”

When it was nearing dinner time, the witch stepped inside the living room, her sleeves rolled up and hair tied up, interrupting the men’s conversation. “Lads, I have a job for you.”

Gaz, Soap and Ghost all look at Price at the same time. The captain just shrugs and stands up, and they copy him, all following his wife outside the house. And Price can literally feel the excitement coming out in waves from his wife, but he doesn’t ask, he just follows her silently until they’re all 3 metres away from the house.

The witch turns to the men, her lips stretching into a smile. “I need you to catch me a rooster for dinner.”

And as soon as those words leave her mouth, Price smirks, trying to hide it by running his finger through his beard. Johnny barks out a laugh, “Of course, we’ll catch ya a rooster, lass!”

“Yeah, sounds fair, the least we can do is catch our dinner.” Kyle shrugs, hands in his pockets and Simon nods in agreement.

“Which one d’ya want us to catch?” Johnny asked, tilting his chin forward.

The witch grins and points above his head, and he frowns in confusion, turning around. And then he looks around and frowns when there’s no rooster on the ground- Oh, what the shit.

The rooster she wants them to catch is standing right on top of the house, staring down at them in challenge, the wind blowing over its black and white feathers, making the rooster’s body seem larger than it actually was.

“Steamin’ Mother…” Johnny mumbles, squinting his eyes to see the rooster better. Kyle and Simon also seemed to be taken aback, staring at the bird in shock.

The witch started giggling behind one of her hands, angling her body away from the men. Meanwhile, Price didn’t care much and started laughing loudly with his head thrown back, hand on his chest and tears collecting at the corner of his eyes.

“You two are mean!” Price’s mother suddenly scolded by the door, hands on her hips.

“Stop laughing, you mutts!” Price’s father barked out and Price and his wife started laughing even louder, screeching and holding onto each other while the three other men stood there, trying to figure out how the fuck are they supposed to catch that rooster.

“That was a good one, love.” Price said, his cheeks hurting from laughing and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing the side of her face. As soon as Price said that, Kyle, Simon and Johnny all sighed in relief.

“Ahah, yeah, that was very funny,” Kyle said, glad he doesn’t actually have to go catch the damned bird. Which was still standing at the top of the house and staring at them.

“What do you mean?” The witch said, making Price freeze.

“What do-” Price frowned.

“Catch it.” His wife said, slowly smirking up at him.

When I say Price’s mum literally shrieked, laughing so hard she had to lean against her husband, face literally turning pink.

The colours literally drained out of Price’s face, anything but chasing that fucking rooster.

“I was being serious, John.” She said, bringing a hand up to fix the collar of his loose shirt. “I want you to catch it for me, please?” the witch bit her lower plush lip and batted her pretty eyelashes at him, placing her other hand on one of his biceps and giving it one squeeze.

Price was standing there, with his mouth open. And when she made a noise, tilting her head to the side, saying “So, are you going to do it?” without actually saying anything. Determination swelled in his chest, making his blood pump and he cleared his throat.

“We’ll catch it. For you.” He said, giving her a nod and placing a kiss on her forehead and started walking towards the house.

“Where are you going?” Johnny called out after the man.

“To get my gear.” Price said without looking back.

“What?!” Simon said, the word literally jumped out of his throat.

“Why?!” Kyle said at the same time as Simon.

“He bites.” Was all Price said before the three men ran after their Captain while his mother was still laughing, almost pissing herself.

When they finally caught the rooster and tied its legs, and held it in front of the witch like a damn trophy, they swore they would never underestimate a rooster ever again. They were all panting and sweating, with feathers stuck in their hair and clothes, with arm protection on to not get bitten, but the rooster still managed to bite a hole in Simon’s shirt and pooped on Johnny’s helmet. They didn’t look happy at all and now all have a newfound fear of roosters.

“Are all roosters like this?” Johnny grumbled, cleaning his helmet in a bucket of water.

“Nope, just this one. You don’t even know how many times we’ve tried to catch him, but never succeeded.” Price’s father said, still baffled about how the beast was finally caught after three years of trying to catch him.

After handing the rooster over, the men stood outside the house and watched until it was killed and plucked and they all sagged when the rooster was no longer breathing. The witch giggled at their state and stopped right as they were going to step inside the house to wash for the second time that day.

“Hold on, take your clothes off first.” She said.

“Huh??” Johnny blushed bright red.

“Shoes and shirts off, leave them outside.” The witch added and they all nodded, following her orders. After all, the rooster did numbers on them, their clothes were filthy like they were on a battlefield and just came back for dinner.

The house smelled absolutely delicious. Price’s mouth watered when he stepped inside the dining room, the smells coming from the kitchen while his parents set the table up.

“What’s cooking up, mum?” John asked, bending down to kiss his mother on the head.

“I don’t know, go ask her.” His mother shrugged, a smile on her lips and eyes twinkling.

“Alright?..” Price laughed and left his mum to go investigate the kitchen.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, he was greeted with a ridiculous amount of delicacies (As much as they afford in times of war while living on a farm). There were pies, stews, roasted vegetables and the rooster, bread, cheese and caramelised apples from the orchards down the road with roasted nuts on top and beer. And there were still pots and pans bubbling and cooking up on the fire.

“Honey? What are you doing?...” Price said and the witch jumped, turning around with a wooden spoon in hand.

“Cooking?” She answered, blinking at him.

“You-” John said, noticing a plate full of sausage rolls and couldn’t help but grab one and take a bite, moaning when the flavours exploded in his mouth, taking him up to the heavens and then back down.

“You don’t have to do all of this, my love. This is- This is too much,” Price said after swallowing and snaked his free arm around her waist and pulled her against him, chest to chest.

His witch frowned, “John, when was the last time your men had a proper meal? This is the least I could do for them."

John smiled, feeling fuzzy and warm with love and appreciation. "Allow me to help you, then."

"No way, I've got this under control. You can go back out there." She said, waving her wooden spoon in the air.

"Please, love."

"Nope. No way. Go away, John." She shakes her head and turns around, stirring a pot while it's bubbling.

"At least let me watch you cook." He whined, John Price whined and he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind.

"Fine. Just don't touch anything." She sighed, rolling her eyes and smiling, stirring. And Price happily nuzzled his face in her hair and went along with her wherever direction she went, literally glueing his body to hers.

This went on for a couple of minutes until she stopped and looked over at the food with her hands on her hips, and called John's mum, telling her to start taking some of the dishes to the table.

And as soon as she puts that damn wooden spoon down, John quickly turns her around and straight up wedding-dips his sweetheart, and cuts off her startled "John!-" with a deep passionate kiss.

When he helps her up, her cheeks are hot and she's panting, eyes wide and lips feeling all tingly. She's just looking at him while he's smiling at her like a love struck fool.

Simon's also in the kitchen, grabbing a plate full of veggies and doesn't give two shits about what they're doing, because all he's capable of focusing on is the food he's carrying and the growling of his stomach.

BONUS:

the second time Price brings his boys over (kyle, Simon, johnny, ale, rudy, horangi and konig). The damn rooster is there again.

“Mum??”

“I see it, John.”

“It’s ALIVE??!!!”

And they have to chase it and kill it again. But his witch manages to hold it in her arms and pet it, “YOU CAN PET IT???” screamed Soap.

And the witch just smiles and tells them it’s a blessing in disguise, a gift, they will never get hungry as long as this rooster is around. And he always comes back, no matter how many times they eat it.

gaz, Ghost and Soap all tell the other guys abt the rooster and instill the fear in them, so now the rooster is some sort of inside horror story lmao.

When Price's mum meets alex for the first time, she's hella confused cuz she doesnt remember pushing him out.

“Are you my son??”

And when he opens his mouths, she's "nope, I didn't push you out"

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh

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live-love-be-unique · 4 months

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The Witch At The Edge Of The Woods

Inspired by @ghouljams incredible OC: Witch and featuring Price. This is my first attempt at writing a female character x female character and female x female x male characters story in any way so I hope I’ve done that and your OC justice.

You’d come home late one night and found your fiancée in bed with another woman, and now you were seeking revenge. You wanted him to feel your pain. In your heartbreak you sought out the woman they called Witch. You’d heard talk of her but hadn’t felt the need to seek her out like others had.

It felt like you had been walking for hours but you hadn’t even lost sight of the town. The forest grew like a hedge maze your father had taken you to one year when you were younger, you’d gotten so turned around and lost that you sat down and cried until he had found you.

As the familiar tendrils of anxiety wormed their way through your ribs and wrapped themselves around your heart you were sure your eyes were deceiving you the snow-covered trees and paths were changing to blossom-filled branches right before your eyes. The beautiful pink petals falling over the path around you. The sun, which had been hiding behind gray clouds, now shone bright down into the forest.

As you basked in the now shining sun, heavy-soled footsteps followed behind you, turning to find nothing but wisps of black smoke in the shape of a man, dancing in the trees. You paused for a moment before remembering that you were close to the witches cottage and stopping to investigate strange black smoke was possibly not the smartest decision.

You swore the shadow man was following you, staying almost in sight, lingering in the corner of your eyes like an abandoned cigar left sitting in an ashtray as you made your way towards the small cottage surrounded with flowers and plants, some you readily recognise growing alongside a lot you didn’t.

There was a woman kneeling by a planter completely engrossed with her flowers and herbs. As you approached she didn’t acknowledged you as she placed a small green sprig of something into the ground.

The heady, earthy smell of cigar smoke that had followed you intermingled with the perfume of the flowers as you walked closer to the small cottage. “Don’t mind him” the woman spoke, not looking up from the plants as she covered its roots with soil “he knows not to interfere” glancing back at the shadow man you didn’t notice the witch step closer to you “follow me”

The cottage was small but the moment you stepped through the door you felt a wave of comfort fall over you. You wanted to live here, you thought instantly. The mismatch of furniture and nicknacks were dotted around what you could only assume was the living room and sprigs of dried flowers and herbs decorated the curtain rods and candles covered every available surface. The air smelt of lavender as you were led into a small kitchen and ushered to a table underneath a sunny window, the sill covered with small succulents.

You studied the witch as she moved around the room. There’s a power to her, simmering beneath the warm surface. A power, that if crossed, would be scarier than death. Her exposed skin that you could see was covered in a patchwork of black signs and sigils and you guessed that there would be more under the skirt and blouse she wore.

The small kitchen looked exactly how you expected a witches to look, shelves filled to the brim with jars and containers of various powders and liquids, snake skin and other matters and something that; to you; vaguely resemble eyeballs. She however, was not what you had expected, there was no green skin or pointy hat in sight. The woman in front of you was beautiful, nowhere near the witches you heard about in the stories your grandmother read to you.

“Were you expecting something else?” She asked, pausing to glance at you over her shoulder as she busied herself with something at the stove.

“I..I don’t know what I was expecting”

“Your grandmother’s stories were wrong” she looked at you with a smirk, you felt your cheeks heating as her eyes met yours “but that can be a talk for another time” she says as a cup of steaming tea is placed before you on a matching saucer. She must have noticed you eyeing the cup warily “it’s not going to kill you if that’s what you’re thinking, poisoning my customers would be terrible for repeat business”

“I wasn’t…”

She smiles knowingly “it’s tea. Lemon balm if you want to be specific. Good for a broken heart”

“How did you know?”

“Do you know you’re one of the only ones who hasn’t come to see me before, not for a tarot or palm reading or something more specific. I was intrigued” she leaned forward in her chair opposite you, her chin resting on her hands, she was studying you, you realize. She lights a cigarette as she watches, waiting for your response.

“Did your cards tell you about me?” You ask in awe.

“No” she giggles “the cashier at the supermarket is a terrible gossip” she says with a wave of her hand.

You look down at your hands clasping the steaming mug of tea in front of you “I want to hurt him. I need him to feel what I feel”

The witch tuts, leaning across the table, taking your hands in hers turning them over, gently tracing the lines on your palms “Your hands are pure, clean” she shook her head “I won’t let you dirty them with revenge”

“You’ve done it before, for others” you say as the familiar pinpricks of tears begin. Why would she help them and not you?

She looks up at you “do you want me to take your pain, sweet girl?” still holding your hands in hers, still tracing little symbols across your skin. Looking into her eyes you felt yourself suddenly forgetting the pain and heartache left behind by your ex. Your cheeks heat up again as she studies you “are you sure I need to?” She asks, tilting her head with that ever present knowing smile.

“I don’t…” you start, unsurely.

You watch as she stands from her place opposite you and makes her way around the small table and stops in front of you. One of her delicate hands lifts your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes once more “do you want to stay?”

“Yes” you whisper; after a moment.

Your pretty witch leans forward as her lips meet yours. You let yourself sink into her as her hand moves from your jaw and flattens against the back of your neck. You would stay with her for as long as she wanted.

The heady, earthy smell of cigar smoke fell around the room as a deep voice came from behind you “What a pretty picture I’ve found” the shadow man purred.

“You startled her Price” Witch says to the shadow man as you fall back with a gasp. The shadow man; Price; had materialized before your eyes. He was handsome with a rugged air surrounding him and his piercing blue eyes shone as he observed you.

He takes your hand in his and pulls you to stand “Hello petal” he smiles, plucking a small pink petal from your hair “we’ve been expecting you” he smiles as his lips find their way to yours.

#oc: witch #female x reader #price x witch x reader

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