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[konigs-whore]

Waking Lions 15

Find the series masterlist

You and John finally start talking. Progress is made in planning.

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, Price needs his own warning label, brief panic, mention of past trauma, Ace has zero healthy coping mechanisms and it shows.

Word count: 1.7k

You woke slowly, disoriented and warm and confused. This did not feel like your bed at your safehouse. Were you still at your safehouse? When had you crashed?

A soft snore from within the room reminded you.

Right. Captain. And Kate. They had conspired against you.

You breathed for a few moments before you very carefully got up. You were still fully dressed, your shoes set neatly next to Captain’s boots. It was oddly… domestic. You ignored the twinge in your heart with determination and snuck across the room, careful not to disturb Captain sleeping on the couch. 

You had your shoes in one hand and were reaching for the door when a droll voice asked, “Going somewhere, love?” 

“You were asleep.” You didn’t move, didn’t turn to look at him. 

“And now I’m awake.” His voice was rough in the morning, something you tried valiantly to deny you found attractive. 

You huffed and finally turned to look at him. He was sitting up on the couch, blue eyes focused entirely on you. Having the weight of that stare on you was… daunting. 

“Were you gonna run again?” His voice was curious, lacking judgment. 

You blew out a slow breath, debating how honest to be with him. But, well… He’d supported you all the way in here. He’d taken the couch and given you the bed. And… Well. 

You remembered the tension yesterday. How close he’d been. 

“Not sure,” you answered honestly. “Wasn’t really planning, just… going.” 

He huffed, a soft sound of amusement. “Not even breakfast first?” 

That startled a little laugh out of you, and your shoulders relaxed. Your shoes dropped to the floor again with a quiet thump. “You offering?” 

His lips twitched with amusement. “I am.” He held still, merely watching as you slowly approached the couch. 

“Part of your nefarious plot, I’m sure,” you teased, stopping out of arms reach. 

“Nefarious, hm?” He tipped his head. 

“Oh yes. Very nefarious.” Your teeth flashed in a grin. “After all, you’re in cahoots with Kate, and she’s the most ruthless person I know.” 

He chuckled, low and rumbling. “You’ve got a point there,” he agreed, shifting to set his feet on the floor, gaze still locked on you. “Feeling better today, I see.”

“Yes, well.” Your gaze slid away from him. “Knocking out for however many hours certainly helped.”

“Nearly ten.” He stood with a little grunt, stretching his arms up over his head. Your gaze darted down to the sliver of tummy that stretch exposed, noting the dusting of hair, and quickly looked away again. “I wasn’t joking about breakfast.”

“You fuss over your boys like this?” You joked, turning away to protect yourself. The sight of Captain still sleep-tousled was very dangerous. 

“The boys don’t try to vanish on me,” Captain replied dryly. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you protested. “I was going to give you my new number once I had it all worked out.” 

“So you did have a plan.” Captain stepped past you to get to his duffel bag, bending to get a change of clothes. You tried not to look. 

“Of course I had a plan. I’ve had a shit hits the fan plan since I got into this line of work.” You rolled your eyes. 

He huffed softly but didn’t offer anything else, just taking his clothes and going into the bathroom. You swallowed once the door was closed between the two of you. 

You’d always known he was attractive, since that very first meeting, but now it was becoming problematic. 

Alright, no. It was problematic. There was no “becoming” anymore. You had a soft spot for the man, you enjoyed the teasing, you couldn’t keep your gaze off him. 

And you had no idea what to do about it. 

Groaning very softly, you scrubbed a hand over your face. There was too much up in the air right now to be even considering doing anything about your attraction to him. 

Besides, it might not be a concern for long. There was still a chance that Gray would find you and kill you. 

That sobered you quickly, and you sat down on the couch to pull out your laptop. Time to check on a few things. 

Most of your accounts had been successfully closed already. Your bank accounts were in the process of transferring funds. 

And there was one new email in the single account you’d left running from work. Just one. You didn’t recognize the sender, but that wasn’t unusual in your line of work. People used burner emails all the time. 

So you opened the email. 

I know you’re still alive. Hide all you want. I will find you one day.

Your world fuzzed around the edges, everything going numb. 

“What happened?” Captain strode over to you quickly, searching your expression.

“Nothing.” You closed your laptop, heart pounding. 

“Ace–” he started, low and… concerned? His phone interrupted him, though, and he sighed once, short and sharp, before he answered it. You ignored him, focused on putting your laptop back away and trying to calm the pounding of your heart.

Gray had found you. Or at least, he’d found enough about you to find one of your emails. And possibly the identity associated with it. 

Which made you more glad than ever that you’d decided to close everything down. That would slow him down, at least. 

And nobody knew where you were. Nobody except Kate. 

Oh, Kate. Panic spiked again, sudden enough it nearly left you breathless. Sure, Kate was competent, and she was better protected, but she was also easier to find. 

And Gray would not stop if he decided he wanted revenge on her too. 

“We’re heading out.”

You jumped, the sudden words from Captain jerking you rudely from your own thoughts. His brow furrowed as he looked at you, concern clear in those blue eyes, but he didn’t ask this time. 

You were silent as you put your shoes on, briefly lamenting the fact that you didn’t have a spare set of clothes to change into. Well. You’d get something later, this was alright for now. 

“Where are we going?” You kept your bag over your shoulder, nodding once to Garrick as he joined the two of you in the hallway. 

“Laswell,” Captain answered, taking the lead. Garrick stayed behind you, limiting your potential chances to slip away. Not that you could really blame them, considering you had slipped away before. “Said she has some new intel.” 

You nodded slowly, mind whirring back into gear. 

If Gray was working with the Russians, or AQ, he could potentially have access to lots of resources. Hell, he was a smart guy with lots of underworld connections, he technically didn’t need either group to get into shit. 

But this did give him access to bigger shit. 

The safest bet would be to take him off the playing board entirely. Which was harder than it sounded. Someone would need to get to him first. And the law wouldn’t deal with him correctly, you had no faith after last time. 

The more permanent solution would be the better one, this time. 

“Alright, love?” 

You blinked at Captain as he held the back door for you, head dipped to catch your gaze. You nodded automatically, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag.

“Fine,” you muttered, breathing out slowly. “Just. Been a lot.” 

As expected, he nodded with sympathy. “We’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re safe with us.” 

You managed a little smile, touching his hand briefly before you got into the car. 

Yes, you were safe with them, these men. 

And perhaps that was a problem. 

You were silent as Garrick drove again, the two of them exchanging the occasional remark, too quiet for you to make out. Which was fine. 

You were busy planning. Because you clearly needed more plans and back up plans. 

This time, they didn’t take you to a restaurant, but to an office building. You raised one eyebrow at Captain, but he simply nodded to the door. 

So you followed Garrick in. 

Kate was in a conference room on the top floor, a tablet in hand and a map on the table in front of her. You eyed it curiously, noting the few marks already - one in Mexico, a few in Russia, a few elsewhere. 

Hmm. If that’s what you all were facing, it was bigger than you’d thought. She must have been getting information from other sources, too. Which made sense. 

“These are the hotspots we know about,” Kate said, nodding to the map. “Between the Russians and AQ.” 

Price braced one hand on the table, leaning over the map. “What’s the play here?” 

“I’ve got more information coming in the next day or two,” Kate said, her gaze flicking briefly to you. “Once we know more, I’ll reach out to some old friends for help.” 

“Hit multiple places?” Garrick guessed, standing next to Kate. 

“Hit them all.” 

“Bold.” But Captain didn’t sound disapproving. Far from it. 

You looked down at the map, frowning a little. That was definitely more than you were aware of, which wasn’t entirely surprising. You’d been focusing more on Russia than anything. This is why Kate had multiple people on intel, not just you. 

“Ace.” Kate spoke softly, clearly trying not to spook you, and you shifted your focus to her. “Think you can still get in contact with some of your people?” 

You made a face, wiggling one hand. “Depends on who and for what,” you said honestly. “There are some I know I can get hold of. What do you want me to find out?” 

“I need to know more about the Mexican involvement.” She tapped the map gently over the red mark. “Who’s involved and how involved they are.” 

You didn’t react visibly, because you had long practice at holding a poker face. Internally, though, you groaned. Because that? That was Valeria. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” you said instead, shrugging. You’d never given Kate the names of any of your informants, and you had no reason to believe she knew you’d been involved with Valeria. 

Of course, this could also give you a chance to find out more about Gray, too. If Valeria was involved. You could trade for any information she had on him. 

That would be worth it. And if you did it right? Nobody in this room would be any the wiser.

[konigs-whore]

Waking Lions

Eventual John Price x f!reader

You’ve been working as an independent intelligence agent for a long time. You like your life - you choose your own hours, you have your own clients, and you get to go wherever you want, whenever you want. Very little pins you down. You never expected this to change, least of all because of one man. 

Chapter one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen | sixteen | seventeen | eighteen | nineteen | twenty | twenty one | twenty two | twenty three | twenty four | twenty five

NOW COMPLETE

[konigs-whore]

Puppy Love 2

Find my CoD masterlist

We continue with this adorable mess. Nobody can resist the puppies. Price has a soft side.

Warnings: Cuteness overload. 

Word count: 1.3k

Eventual John Price x f!reader

Two weeks later, Gaz once again made his way to Price’s office. 

This time, Price saw the keys and huffed. “Puppies again?" 

"Yup. Four weeks old now, their eyes are open.” Gaz couldn’t contain his grin if he wanted to. Fortunately he didn’t want to. 

Price chuffed. “Alright, let’s go,” he agreed, getting to his feet. 

Keep reading

[konigs-whore]

Sorry for the rant and probs gonna get hate cuz ik this fandom but i had to say this

-This goes to all fandoms, not just Call of Duty-

You are responsible for the content you consume. Don’t like, Don’t read.

i’ve seen a few posts about this but

if you cannot spell or speak about rape, pedophilia or any dark or sensitive topics then maybe don’t talk about it, because purposely misspelling it proves you are not mature enough to talk about it or handle the topic, this isn’t tik tok you don’t have to sugarcoat anything. Yes i am aware these are sensitive (and horrible) subjects and can be triggering but no one is forcing you to read or talk about it.

Me, and a lot of authors, put the content warnings at the top of the fic because that’s the first thing people will see and it is your responsibility to read those warnings if you wish to read a fic, not ours. This goes with Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (DDDNE), a warning or tag used to indicate that a fanwork contains tropes or elements that may be deemed morally reprehensible without explicitly condemning the sensitive aspect. It says what it says on the tin and you still read it, that is on you, not us.

Saying an author is glorifying or promoting a topic and saying they need mental or professional help for writing/reblogging rape or abuse or sexual assault because of their or another authors writings is a stretch, people can and are into some messed up things that to some people can be triggering or disturbing and you can be 100% into something fictionally without wanting to explore it physically.

No one if forcing you to read something you do not like

Same with minors in fandoms, this is a common things and there is nothing you can do about it, yes they shouldn’t be viewing or reading certain things in the fandoms but they’ll still find a way no matter how hard to try and stop them.

Say rape, say kill, no one’s gonna to hate you, if you can’t handle dark topics in a fic, block the author it’s not hard, no one will hate you for doing that and harassing and swinging death threats to a creator because they made something you don’t like is a shitty thing to do, if you don’t want to read a certain trope or topic that’s fine, people have preferences, but trying to start a witch hunt and purity culture campaign over it is not ok. I think sometimes they don’t because they want to start hate. Tumblr had a filtering system for blocking tags and yes people find a way to get around that, just block those tags too.

Fandoms are safe spaces for people who like a certain content, yes there are bad people in fandom and areas in a fandom that are filled with disgusting people, but it is a online safe space for people to enjoy the content they like. Fandoms are not for you to try and purify because you can’t be mature enough to block an author for posting content you don’t like.

[konigs-whore]

CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST

——————————————————————————

CoD HOLIDAY MASTERLIST

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

Forbidden Fruit Series- A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity. A modern (not creepy) retelling inspired by Persephone and Hades. 18+

Smoked- Simon blows smoke into your mouth.

To Dull the Shovels & Smoke- In which Simon Riley doesn’t hear the gunshots and yells when he’s around his next door neighbor.

In Death’s Hands- You survived that car crash. Despite all the doctors saying you should have been crushed like a soda can. It shouldn’t have been possible, but you had a strange suspicion it had something to do with the cloaked figure that followed you everywhere.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

An Oath of Rose Briar- It was always nightfall when he’d sneak into your chambers, yearning for love that tears apart at the seams. You didn’t know forbidden love could taste so divinely sweet. 18+

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

None for now

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

You’re Golden Sunshine, it’s Shadows when you’re Gone- In which you meet Kyle Garrick again after years of not seeing each other. In a gravitational pull, you find your long forgotten adoration resurfacing again.

Out of Element- Gaz didn’t notice the loose Polaroid of the two of you that fell from his vest, focusing instead on not being shot. He didn’t think anything of it, until his whole world came crashing down.

KÖNIG

Blunt Salvation Series- You’ve just received a promotion, now the lead psychologist specializing in monster behaviors and physiology. Your employer, Specgru, was a notorious monster hunting faction. They’ve just caught the most notorious monster of all— and he just so happens to be your newly assigned patient. 18+

Your Grace- As a loyal soldier to your King, you follow orders without question. So when the King asks you to kneel— you do as told. A King AU. 18+ Her Majesty- Part Two to Your Grace. 18+

KEEGAN P. RUSS

Sweet Elixir- A Vampire!Keegan oneshot. 18+

[konigs-whore]

I'm genuinely tweaking rn, I've read all the fics and I don't know what to read now 😭

all of my fics ?? lol wow i appreciate that sm <3

i’ll use this as a chance to recommend some absolutely lovely people and talented writers who deserve endless luv and support !!!

@alwaysshallow @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @bunnyreaper @bleuu-moon @charliemwrites @cowyolks @chamomiletealeaf @ceilidho @cordeliawhohung @dante-mightdie @deadbranch @eilidh-eternal @fawnchives @frogchiro @glossysoap @groguspicklejar @ghouljams @greatstormcat @ghostlywhiskey @glitterypirateduck @hecateslore @ivymarquis @iciclesses @konigsblog @luminousbeings-crudematter @luvit @lxvvie @ltbunny @l0v3tast3 @lovelyghst @moondirti @moongreenlight @meowpupp @mangowafflesss @naivegh0ul @ohcaptains @ohbo-ohno @peachesofteal @rowarn @stormiwaves @sky-is-the-limit @starry-eyedblog @stargirlrchive @shotmrmiller @shadowlali @tacticalanklebiter3000 @tojisun @yawnderu @yeyinde @391780

(please heed any tags or warnings on each blog and/or work and be kind and respectful)

[konigs-whore]

inspired by boop day, reblog this post if its ok for people to send you random asks and interact on your posts with no judgement. i want to talk to people.

[konigs-whore]

[konigs-whore]

You Found Me

John Price x fem!reader OC

Summary: John Price finds himself losing control while his wife who is an archeologist is away on a dig.

Warning: Violence, angst, blood, physical violence, swearing, guns, not edited

——————

Dust, sweltering heat, dry cracked skin, bitterly cold nights. From having the sun beat you down to frigid air so cold your teeth chattered.

It always surprised you how cold the desert became at night and how hot it was during the day. The early mornings seemed to be the only time you felt comfortable. It took time for you to adjust back into being on a dig sight after so long. Life had consisted of being the new curator at a museum, an active mother, caring daughter, and loving wife. It was strange to step out of those rolls and back into being a hands on archeologist and back on a dig sight thousands of miles away from your family.

Having a slow start like you were this morning was beautiful. Most mornings you were woken up by the sounds of your colleagues chatter since the thin tarp of your tent didn’t give much sound proofing. But today you had naturally woken up before everyone else, made yourself a cup of coffee, and were now sitting and eating breakfast at the small table in your tent as you went over papers.

Your tent was bigger than your colleagues because you were technically the one heading the dig at the moment. The beige burlap tent was rectangular with taller ceilings so most could stand upright without their heads touching the ceiling. You had an ornate red rug rolled out to make it a little more cozy. Your cot was in the back right corner with your old faded trunk at the foot of it. On the inside lid of the trunk were numerous pictures from past digs you had taped there for sentimental purpose.

There was one picture in particular you loved the most. It was of you and John Price back when he was a Luitenant and you an up and coming archeologist. You two weren’t standing anywhere near each other but you asked to get a picture with all the military that were there to show off to your friends after. Little did you know it would be the first picture you would take with your future husband.

There was a dark brown circular table to the left of the tents opening. It had four old wooden chairs around it. There were a smattering of papers, pencils, maps, sketches, and an old lantern on the table. A few feet away was a wooden partition to give you some privacy while you changed in case someone came in.

You had been away for almost a full two weeks. You were coming to assist on this dig because Dr. Michales would not be able to get there in time due to family constraints. It was only intended for you to be here for the first two weeks of the four month dig so you happily obliged. It was a nice change of pace from your job and you were happy that in only a few more days you’d be on your way home. These finds would be an amazing addition to the museum you had been pouring yourself into. It would feel validating to have your name added to these fascinating finds in a museum you were in charge of.

But as enthralled as you were by your studies, your mind continued to drift to your family back home in the UK. John was home with your three children and you couldn’t help but wonder what they were all up to at the moment. You glanced up to see the small wooden picture frame you had lovingly placed on the table, it was a gift from your son.

It was a goofy picture of the five of you that always left you with a smile. John was standing tall with Evelyn tucked under one arm and Jj in the other. Both their feet were off the ground as John carried them like duffle bags out the backdoor of your home, the laughter evident on their faces. You were standing a few feet away with Lily in your arms the five of you all dressed in football gear to go practice in the yard for the afternoon. The picture was taken by your brother in law who had stopped by to drop off some hand me down clothes.

The photo left a bitter sweet taste in your mouth that you tried to attribute to the shitty coffee. You wished you could peer into your home and know what your family were up to. If you could, you’d see John had built a blanket fort in the living room that they were all cuddled under and eating icecream from the tub; something they knew you’d never allow.

With a deep sigh you went back to sipping on your morning coffee in your tent and going over some documents. It was tedious but you were taking the time to make sure everything you were doing was meticulously documented so when Dr. Michales took over there was little confusion. In the still of the morning you brought your chipped coffee cup to your chapped lips and sighed in pleasure at the silence.

Thats when the sound of repetitive gunshots rang out. Time slowed as every hair on your body stood on end. It was the most startling sound and your soul had practically left your body. You jumped so violently you whacked your knee on the underside of the table and then dropped your coffee onto the ruby red carpet, half of the burning liquid spilling down your left arm.

Instantly you knew it was an assault rifle from how quickly each round fired off and you instinctively dropped to your knees and got under the table. The squish of the soaked rug and smell of burnt coffee seared itself into you memory never allowing you to to forget this moment as long as you smelt burnt coffee. With hands tightly clasped over your ears you felt cold all of a sudden as if an Arctic breeze blew through the sweltering desert.

Before a fully formed thought had even been processed through your head you were up and running toward the corner of your tent taking a cloth and wrapping it around the burn on your arm. Throwing a blanket over your cot to cover the space beneath it, you shoved yourself under it. Fumbling around you squeezed into the small space, laced your fingers behind your head and pressed your forehead into the rug. It burned against your skin as you broke out into a cold sweat. Heavy panicked breathing took over and your hands began to shake violently. Fat tears dropped from your eyes and your nose was running like you had just gotten in from shoveling snow.

The sounds of blood curdling screams and more gunfire rang out and all you could think about was never seeing your family again. The memory of them all giving you hugs and well wishes as they saw you off at the airport flashing in your mind. The way Evelyn demanded to be the last one you hugged and how Jj handed you that picture frame sitting on the table a few feet away. You had promised John you’d be safe and sealed it with a kiss goodbye as Lily giggled at your PDA.

Would that be the last memory they had of you? Was Lily old enough that she would remember you? Jj would never recover and Evelyn would be devastated. Your children’s faces flashed in your mind but John’s booming voice was loud in your head. You let out a shaky breath that had drops of spittle splattering against the carpet.

In these moments it felt like John was right there with you telling you exactly what to do.

Steady, calm your breathing.

Darling, if they take you don’t fight back. Please don’t fight back.

You’ll be okay. Stay smart, stay quiet, and whatever you do, don’t panic.

Safety was your only concern as you hid under the cot in your tent. You imagined John was on his way with an army behind him as a way to trick yourself into staying calm. He’d be here to save you, you told yourself. Your mind was racing and about to derail as you screamed and begged in the safety of your mind.

John. John. John.

help

The air had stilled and faint cries of familiar voices echoed as your friends begged for mercy. You could hear Carol screaming that they had killed someone while Tanner was yelling for them to stay away from whoever he was trying to protect. It made you sick to know the horrors of what was happening on the other side of your tent and that you were next. You tried to listen as you heard orders in a language you couldn’t understand. You recognized it as Arabic but couldn’t make out a single word; wishing John was here because he knew a little of the language. The way the words were barked had you trembling. You may not understand the language but deep down you knew that people were about to start searching tents. The sight was about to be raided and in that moment you knew it was only a matter of time until you were found.

The concept of time had vanished as your heart beat echoed in your ears. You had no idea how long you had been hiding it could have been five minute or hours, your mind was playing tricks on you. Your body was soaked in sweat and you felt like you may just die right on the spot as your tent flap was loudly ripped open.

Closing your eyes tight you heard as whoever was in here began to toss the place upside down. You began to chant your children’s name in your mind as a way to distract yourself.

Jonathan, Evelyn, Lily. Jonathan, Evelyn, Lily. Jonathan, Evelyn, Lily.

They consumed your mind. Each one of their pretty smiles and sparkling blue eyes flashing in your minds eye. You swore you could hear them laughing off in the distance. Squeals of laughter and shouts for you to come play.

Finally your cot was tossed, revealing you underneath. Head bowed to the floor, lying flat on your stomach with your fingers laced behind your head. You stayed still hoping, praying, begging god to make you invisible in that moment.

The blood curdling scream you let out was involuntary as this man, whose face was completely covered grabbed you by your hair. The painful tug was barely noticeable as you thrashed and kicked for dear life. You could barely focus on your surroundings as you were dragged toward the tents opening by your hair. The thought of what John would tell you to do to stay safe flying out the window as instinct kicked in. Through the struggle you could hear glass shattering the scent of your vanilla perfume taking over the small space.

As you thrashed you felt your boots connect with your trunk, air, then the man’s leg and you kicked again with all your strength. He let out what you assumed to be a cruse word and then seconds later his open hand collided with your face. He had slapped you with so much force it snapped your head back and your skin burned, you could feel the welt forming instantly but you still tried to fight him off. All you could see was a flurry of your familiar tent as the hand in your hair tightened and you flailed around like a fish out of water.

Then he struck you again and again until your knees buckled and you stopped fighting back. He continued to strike even after the fight left you then one last time for good measure until becoming limp was your bodies only choice. Panting and spitting out a warm liquid that tasted of iron you stopped kicking and strained for breath. Your face, chest and back felt like they were on fire from the blows sustained. You glanced down to look at your white t-shirt, seeing specks and splotches of red littering the cotton.

The large hand that had you by the roots of your hair pulled you down against the ground as you tried to brace yourself from colliding with the floor. The pain at your scalp was white hot as you felt your body collide with the trunk that sat by the end of your cot and then into the table. He was tossing you into the furniture to further the damage he was inflicting on you. The adrenaline was pumping so violently in your veins you couldn’t realize just how hurt you were.

You couldn’t even hear yourself chocking on blood and spit as you plead for him to let you go, that you had children. The air in your lungs burned and your senses were dulled from the beating you had just sustained. You were dragged out of your tent and tossed into the dirt. The coarse sand stuck to your sweat soaked skin as pebbles pressed into the skin of your palms as you braced yourself. Scrambling away on your hands and knees you turned to face your attacker slipping off the heels of your boots and falling on to your ass.

This was the first good look you were getting of this behemoth of a man as he towered over you. He had his face covered only his hazel eyes visible. There was an assault rifle slung around his monstrous frame and what you expected to see was your life flash before your eyes as he reached for it. For some unknown reason you whispered to the man.

“Ghost?”

It had to be delirium or the blows to the head and face making you think this man was Simon Riley; or the fact he was of the same physique and stature. But you were thankful of that because for a brief moment you felt relief. Relief that someone would save you as you watched the assault rifle come up and be pointed in your face. You closed your eyes tight and cried out for John although he was thousands of miles away.

“JOHN!” His name tore from your throat. Your vocal cords straining to a point you felt like you might pop a blood vessel.

The butt of the assault rifle smacked you hard in the face. An obscene crack echoing in the dry air before you could even register you were struck instead of shot. The impact made the world go black for a moment the only thing snapping you back into consciousness was the back of your head hitting the dirt. Your hand weakly reached to your left eyebrow and temple where you’d been struck as the world spun around you. Trying to focus your eyes as dirty brown boots approached you.

You were dazed and dizzy from the blow and you could barely register what had just happened. Through the double vision you pulled your hand away from your temple and saw blood coating your finger tips. The smell of burnt coffee hanging in the air and the heaviness of your eyes winning as you passed out.

——————

“When’s mummy going to video call?” Evelyn was tugging on John’s belt loop as he stood in the kitchen trying to figure out dinner.

Lily, newly three was fast asleep in his arms having been struggling with a nasty cold. The three year old was struggling not having you at home especially while she was sick. John had also been struggling to get her to sleep through the night and it resulted in Lily sleeping with him the past two nights. She would cry into your pillow and cling to an old dirty sweatshirt of yours she refused to let John wash.

You and John had a scheduled video call a day ago but he hadn’t heard a word from you. It was concerning to say the least and John was becoming more concerned as each hour ticked by. He told himself he wouldn’t freak out and you were just busy but there was this clawing feeling in the back of his mind; something didn’t feel right.

John kept telling himself he couldn’t call someone in he still hadn’t lived down the last time this happened and he sent Soap and Ghost out there to check on you. You called him laughing hysterically that he needed to tone down the protectiveness and that you simply forgot to call. Simon also brought it up from time to time saying he would do the same in John’s position but Soap liked to make snarky comments about the Captain being uptight.

“She’ll call soon, love.” John said confidently not wanting Evelyn to worry. With a kiss to her forehead she smiled sweetly and retreated into the living room.

John couldn’t handle the uncertainty anymore. Pulling out his phone he dialed the first person he knew would pull a few strings for him, no questions asked. The line rang four times before the familiar voice sounded on the other end.

“John, surprised to hear from you.”

“Kate, I need a favor.” John spoke quietly. Peaking his head out of the kitchen he checked that both Evelyn and Jj were out of ear shot before he continued.

“Sounds urgent.” The smile in Kate’s voice vanished.

“Y/N is in Urzikstan on a dig. Haven’t heard from her in a couple days. Think you could ask Farah to have a few of her men check things out. Make sure she’s safe.” John meant to ask but it came out as more of a statement. He could hear Kate’s fingers dart across her keyboard as she typed loudly.

“Yeah, going to need a few more details.”

“Of course.”

——————

“I want the last egg roll!” Jj hissed.

Jj and Evelyn had been at each other’s throats all day and it was driving John up a wall. It was hard for him to handle his children when he had you and your safety on his mind. He kept checking his phone to see if Kate had reached out to no avail.

The past two hours had felt like torture and John had been virtually silent. Although his children didn’t seem to notice, too busy arguing with each other about anything and everything. You would think they’d pick up on how John wasn’t diffusing the arguments or scolding them for fighting.

“Too bad I want it!” Evelyn hollered back at her brother. Taking the white crinkly bag with the egg roll in it only for Jj so snatch it back.

John was looking between his son and daughter and sighing heavily. He took the bag from his son silently and placed it on his empty plate. He was about to cut the egg roll in half when the argument took a turn. Lily was quietly eating her fried rice and glancing back and forth between her siblings deeply enthralled by their display.

“Brats don’t deserve eggs rolls!” Jj spat the insult in his sisters face.

“Neither do cry baby, no good at maths, nose picker, butt sniffer, idiots!” Evelyn shot right back pulling out every insult she could think of.

“I’m not a nose picker or a butt sniffer!” Jj screeched, hands smacking against the table.

“Still makes you a cry baby idiot who sucks at maths.” Evelyn spat back now kneeling on her chair. They looked ridiculous arguing in matching orange t-shirts from last summer fair. John could practically see the lightening bolts shooting across the table as they violently stared at one another.

John snapped, not able to handle his children being this nasty to each other over an egg roll of all things. With a mean look John snatched the egg roll from the white paper bag it sat in and shoved the entire thing in his mouth. It was an enormous amount of food but he chewed aggressively and relished in the greasy goodness. John felt somewhat vindicated to take the last egg roll for himself. He didn’t yell at his children and found a way of solving the issue since there was no egg roll to argue over now.

“AHHH YOU ATE IT!” Evelyn shrieked, hands shooting up to her cheeks as she stared at her round cheeked father, his mutton chops only making his cheeks look puffier. John stared forward eyes locked on the pantry doors with a blank expression and continued to chew as he felt his children’s anger now pointed at him.

“Dad!” Jj hollered his face fixed in shock and anger just like his sister. Jj’s nose flared and eyebrows knit together trying his best to hold back his sass.

“You’re being a piggy!” Evelyn sneered, blue eyes narrowed.

“Don’t call me a pig.” John snapped back and covered his mouth as he scolded Evelyn. The spark of fury igniting in his icy eyes causing the young girl to plop back in her seat, cross her arms over her chest and grunt angrily.

“Fine, how about a thief.” Jj said under his breath. Taking his fork and scooting a piece of broccoli around his plate. John swallowed thickly at his son’s words his blood pressure spiking.

“Thief? I bought the bloody food. And you want to call me a thief!?” John’s voice was thick from the greasy food and beginning to raise. His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of his phones generic ringtone.

Evelyn and Jj were stunned as he got up from his chair so quickly it almost fell backwards. They saw the anger vanish from their father’s face and be replaced with an emotionless expression.

“Behave.” John warned as he abruptly got up from the dinner table and quickly made his way out the back door onto the patio. He could see all three of his children now peering out the window to get a better look at him.

“Kate, hear anything?” John skipped all the pleasentries and got straight to the point.

“The sight was ransacked. The people left claimed five individuals had been taken by a group of men with face coverings. One of them was identified as your wife.” The matter of fact tone Kate used was in hopes John wouldn’t go off the deep end at the news.

“Get Farah on this immediately tell her it’s a favor for me. I’ll owe her my life. But keep it under wraps this is my wife, don’t need word spreading and anyone getting ideas. I’ll be packed and on base to assist within the hour.” John barked down the line as if it was appropriate to give Kate orders.

“Farah is already working on tracking them down. Said you’d probably want to see the dig sight and talk to some of the witnesses yourself.” Kate and Farah had a much more in depth conversation on possibility of hostage survival but Kate felt that would be better for John to hear in person.

“She knows me well. I’ll be there soon.” John’s thumb and forefinger were pinching the bridge of his nose as he desperately tried to keep a hold of himself.

“We’ll get her back, John.” The certainty in Kate’s voice was only to comfort John and he knew that. There was no certainty and no one knew that better than them.

“We will.” John said simply before hanging up, feeling as if he were lying to himself.

There was a calm that washed over John. An eerie almost manic clarity came over him, a feeling that John knew all too well. It was what made him good at his job. What made taking peoples lives and living on with the weight of it manageable. He’d felt this many times but never with you, never like this. This was a feeling he had in war zones, shoot outs, the most gut wrenching and gruesome situations.

But tonight as he stood on the patio of your family home, all he knew was that he was on his way to Urzikstan with hell hot on his heels. The muscles in his face began to twitch and he chuckled out a dry laugh that most would describe as demented or deranged. John felt his sanity slipping as if he were about to go on a murderous rampage if he didn’t keep himself in check; and he just might. The thought of you scared, alone, and in danger had his skin tingling. If a single hair was out of place John wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself, he’d truly become a monster he’d promised himself he’d never be. But could you blame him? Would anyone blame him?

John was calling the next person before he had even fleshed out a game plan. All the pieces were falling together in his mind and he saw every move he needed to make with clarity. The five rings of the phone was enough time for John to map out which route would be the quickest to base and how exactly he would get someone to fly him out there with little pushback. He’d need to pull every string and bully his way into getting what he wanted. He would be there in the quickest amount of time possible.

At any cost.

“Billy, Y/N in trouble on her dig and I need to get out there. Can y-“

“I’m putting on my shoes now. I’ll be there in a flash. Stay on the line.” Billy, your father, didn’t need another word. Much like John this was instinctual on how to react when the question of your safety was raised.

John could hear him rushing around and faintly overheard Billy’s girlfriend asking where he was going and if everything was okay. Then her screaming, asking why he was leaving and he ‘couldn’t keep doing this to her.’ Billy answered by slamming the door and effectively ending that relationship as he sprinted down the stairs for his car. If only John could tell you about this he knew you’d snort out a laugh and have some smart ass comment about your father’s horrible communication skills. But that wasn’t the case and John’s stomach twisted and rage spiked his veins at the thought he might never be able to tell you.

John stayed on the line only for the reason of making sure Billy was okay because that’s what you would want him to do. John knew you would demand that he looks out for your father in any and all circumstances. Even when you weren’t here to tell him yourself John was staying true to everything you would want and he’d continue to do that until the day he died.

“I’m on my way. Be there in twenty.” Billy huffed out of breath.

“See you soon.” Before John could hang up he heard the deadly serious words of your father as his car door slammed.

“You better bring her home in one piece. I mean it John, or I’ll have your fuckin’ head.” Billy yelled the words down the line and John could picture how angry he looked and how his finger was pointed to emphasize his point.

“I will.” John knew Billy was the only other person on this earth that would walk through the fires of hell for you. There was a mutual respect that both John and Billy would lay their lives down for you and kill for you. That’s why Billy trusted John to be your protecter all those years ago.

By the time Billy arrived he could feel the tension in the air. He tried to walk through the front door calmly but half burst through the door. It only took a few steps into the house to have full view of the living room which was where his grandchildren were.

Jj was sitting on the couch with Lily in his lap and reading her a book. Evelyn was sprawled out on the floor, red in the face, having just finished crying. It broke Billy’s heart watching his oldest grandson console Evelyn from his spot on the couch. Jj was truly John’s son trying to hold everything together no matter how unequipped he was.

“Evie, dad’s gonna be back with mum so fast it’ll make our heads spin. Isn’t it kinda cool he gets to go pick her up all the way in another country?” Jj was clearly trying to hide his own panic. His voice deepening like his fathers would when times were serious.

“Grandpa, dad says mummy’s fine but I don’t believe him.” Evelyn burst into tears again at the sight of Billy. Jj looked up to him like a deer in headlight his bottom lip wobbling as he saw the angry look on his grandpas face. Lily turned in Jj’s arms and hugged him around the neck.

“No crying Jj.” Lily whispered lovingly and nudged the book at him. Her curls tickling her brother’s skin and helping distract him from the tightness in his chest.

Jj willed himself to be strong for his sisters because for the first time in his life John had earnestly asked him to take care of them; and that’s what scared the young boy. There was a rule set by you and his father that Jj was not to take on adult responsibilities or roles under any circumstance. The fact his father asked this of him meant something was very, very wrong. And Jj was ready to do whatever it took to take care of his sisters.

Evelyn was moving pathetically so she was now kneeling on the carpet and starting to breather heavily, clearly panicking. Her small hand came up and clutched her orange t-shirt in the middle of her chest as if she were struggling to breathe. Evelyn was old enough at this point to understand something was horribly wrong but she couldn’t express why. The fact was, she felt deep down in her bones something bad was happening and unlike her brother she couldn’t hold herself together.

“Hey, she’s okay, just got caught up in some red tape at work. Your dad’s gonna bring her home safe and sound.” Billy didn’t bother taking off his shoes as he scooped the eight year old up in his arms. Evelyn wrapped herself around him and cried into his shoulder. Billy nodded to Jj as a way to silently comfort him but he could see how rattled the young boy was. With a deep sigh and quickly wiping away the stray tears, Jj went back to reading the book to Lily who was half asleep.

“Red tape!? That’s the worst kind.” The young girl hiccuped out sobs as Billy swayed with her and rubbed her back like he did when she was Lily’s age.

“Mummy’s my favorite person, she needs to come home. right. now.” Evelyn was sobbing harder and harder as Billy tried his best to console her.

It reminded him of when you were a little girl and cried for hours that you wanted your mother to come home. Only for you, your mother had passed and there was no chance of her ever walking through that door again. And Billy prayed that his granddaughter wouldn’t have to face the same suffering you did as a girl.

John was jogging down the stairs in his military fatigues with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. His mind was racing but you’d never be able to tell from the emotionless look on his face, the paternal side of himself going dark at the sight of Billy. Knowing your children were now in good hands John was in a mindset that lived outside this home for good reason. His children had never seen this side of him. The cold, calculated, and self assured Captain he was renowned for being.

With sharp eyes John saw Billy had two different shoes on, he missed a belt loop, and had buttoned up his shirt wrong making one end lopsided. Billy was completely disheveled and it was obvious to John in that moment that no time was to be waisted, Billy needed his little girl home now.

“You three be good to your grandpa.” John’s words were more of an order as he went around and placed a kiss to each one of his children’s heads; his duffle bag thrown over his shoulder.

Billy and John shared a knowing nod and John left your father with a few parting words.

“You’ll see her soon. And thank you.” The deepness in John’s voice was a testament to his seriousness.

Billy couldn’t speak on the subject it would make the reality too real and he knew he’d lose himself completely if he lost you. So he nodded sharply and turned away from John, not allowing any emotion to take over although fear had its clutches on his heart.

——————

“Hello, Captain. Long way from home.” Farah’s voice sounded as she approached Captain Price as he stepped out of the truck he rode in. It was a shit show to get here but John managed to do it in record time. Pulling no punches and going as far as threatening those who wouldn’t give him his way.

“You locate the hostages?” Price’s voice had deepened like it usually did when deployed or on missions. A quick handshake was exchanged as a greeting, then Farah waved for Price to follow as she showed him around the campsite. John nervously fixed his hat on his head, blood pulsing painfully though his veins seeing the destruction of a once well manicured campsite. From the photos you sent him it was picture perfect and a textbook outline of a campsite. One central hub, area for showering, the group of tents closely huddled together; all adjacent to the dig sight.

“I have some of my men checking out possible locations but not much has turned up. There was one seriously wounded man but he’s stable now. No casualties. The people left behind said they headed west with five hostages.” With an out stretched gloved hand Farah pointed west to emphasize her point then signaled to the tire marks left behind.

“These treads are wide, wider than normal. Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re armored. What do you say?” Glancing over Farah intently inspected Price’s face trying to determine why this group of individuals called for him pulling out every favor he had. Why did some archeologists he had no business knowing call for him to be out here so quickly.

“You seen treads like these before? They look military.” With a nod John tilted his head down staring at Farah through his eyebrows, his hands coming up and gripping his tactical vest.

“A military convoy was high jacked last week. Think these might be the same people. Tire marks lead west like they said.” Farah confirmed the two of them continuing on, checking out the ransacked campsite.

“Then we’ll go west.” John said simply as he took in his surroundings. The two walked on stopping at the dig sight to see the carved out areas of ancient ruins. It looked to be the start of a decently sized complex covered in a layer of sand and dust. To the left was artifact that had been discovered and were being catalogued. None of it was disturbed only the campsite was torn apart.

“It’s a shame. If only they could keep themselves from digging in dirt that’s not their own. Don’t think this would have happened if it were our people here making this discovery.” Farah stated matter of factly. John hated that he agreed with the sentiment. Hell, he had said something similar to you when you first met and that’s why military presence was important on dig sights.

It was strange seeing something horrible that John had seen before but equating it to you. It was a feeling he hoped he’d never have but here he was. Examining tents that had been cut open, overturned vehicles, burned food supplies and water basins turned over and emptied. The small campsite was completely gone through and all forms of life preserves destroyed. The dig sight somehow remained untouched to John’s surprise but then again it seemed this was more of a job to stop those who don’t belong from taking things that aren’t theirs.

Continuing on John’s sharp eyes looked for any trace of you. That’s when he saw the tent that was bigger than the others, meaning it was the lead archeologists. Your tent. Silently John made his way over eyes carefully scanning the area around it. There were droplets of blood splattered a few yards from the tents entrance that lead to a larger blood stain. Squatting down John gave it a close look and determined it wasn’t nearly enough blood to be fatal and he wasn’t about to assume it was yours. There were clear drag marks leading off to where Farah had said convoy trucks were parked.

Farah silently followed, watching closely how Price’s face barely changed. Dipping into what he assumed to be your tent John was met with glass crunching under his boots and the sight of all furniture flipped over and your belongings rifled through.

The first thing John noticed was the smell of your vanilla perfume. Then he saw your old trunk kicked over with your belongings spilling out. There was that navy sweater you liked to wear on cold nights torn and lying on the red rug along with books and toiletries. Taking another step in John picked up on the smell of the hazelnut coffee you liked and he couldn’t help how that smell reminded him of home and you curled up in the early morning with coffee and a book. Then his boots crunched against something that snapped under his weight. Looking down and seeing what he’d stepped on finally had reality taking hold and a painful throb shooting through his head. This was your tent. His wife’s tent. And the blood splattered across the table and chairs was yours.

With a shallow breath and his lip twitching John bent down and picked up the family photo you had taken with you. It had speckles of dark red dried blood that tainted such a pure memory. John adored that day and thought back to it as one of the few perfect days you all spent as a family. Playing football in the back yard then grilling for dinner and eating around a bonfire. The night ended with you in John’s bulky arms and breathing each other in as you showed the deepest form of love to one another.

John felt himself ready to be sick. There was a rage so intense it made his head ache and muscles tense. With gritted teeth he could hear his teeth creaking from the immense pressure. Never in his life had John felt the urge to kill like this. It was no longer for defense or the safety and sanctity of his comrades and country. This felt blood thirsty like nothing could stop him from cutting down anyone who stood in his way on the path to find you. But for you and only you he would keep his composure because if he snapped there was no way anyone would allow for him to continue on this mission. There was a time and place to strike and he’d have them all in their graves by the time it was too late for anyone to stop him.

“Let’s find them.” John dropped the picture frame to the floor, the dark wood clattering against the broken bits of chair and glass.

The loose shards of glass from the frame scattering and adding to the mess that lay inside the tent. He left the picture frame there on the ground unable to bring his family along with him. He left it where he found it and turned away telling himself it would be here waiting for you when he brought you back to collect your things.

Farah was quick to step out of his way as Price marched out of the tent. There was an eir about him almost as if the darkest of pain radiated from his soul and infected the air. It was something Farah had never seen from Price, it almost felt inhuman, like a gruesome scene yet to unfold. Before he left he had one final thing to say.

“Don’t say a word.” It was a threat. Farah could hear it in his voice as if the devil had spoken yet sounded like the man she trusted with her life.

Curiosity got the better of Farah and she took a brief moment to look at the photo and the realization clicked in her head. Seeing Price’s face with a bright smile staring back at her and three children with matching ones was enough for Farah. The Captain had a wife and children. She had no clue. The woman they were searching for had to be the Captains wife and at least now Farah knew what you looked like. So hopefully it’d be easier to find and identify you if you had become a casualty. And she prayed for Price’s sake that wasn’t the case.

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea @cosmoscoffeee @sae1kie @ohworm-writes @ghostslittlegf @fanficwriterlover @arminarlertssword @faceache111 @azu21 @thirstyb-ches @nini-11-08 @sgtgarricks @kiki-is-hyperfixating

[konigs-whore]

John Price Masterlist (on going)

Here is a compiled list of my John Price x fem!reader series. domestic fluff and angst, some smut. Listed in order of events. Here is a family outline.

Unmarried:

Indy

Smart Man

The Second You Left

A Second Without You

You Do It Better

Safe Word NSFW

Once You’ve Seen What it’s Like

Skinny Dipping

Sweet Treat

Missed You

Early Morning

Breakdown

Should Have Proposed Sooner (NSFW)

Married:

Why Wait

Paint

Flash drive (NSFW)

Lost Time

Leather Couch

April

Scotch

Quiet (NSFW)

No Wandering Around

Baby Fever (NSFW)

Cake

Desired

I’ll Handle It

Waters Gone Cold

Hindsight

Country Life

I’ve Got You

Family Vacation

Killer

Mayhem

The Day After

Evelyn

Snow Cone

Privacy

Rendezvous (NSFW)

Oops

Interruption

Maker Her Happy

Halloween

The Holiday

Lily

Dads Home

Mending Bridges

Jealousy

Bright Eyed

Dance

Striker

Expulsion

Trouble Maker

Jealousy Part 2

One last chance

Putting Out Fires

A Little Sweetness

Raspberries

Softy

Simple Things

Sleeping Together

Pet Peeves

The Giggles

[konigs-whore]

when i was younger i had a really bad fear of danny devito when i was going to sleep so my older brother gave me a watch that he set to like 8 hours ahead so that it was always daytime on the watch when i was asleep and he told me it would confuse danny devito and he would think it was daytime and get scared of the sun and leave me alon

[konigs-whore]

[konigs-whore]

Familiar contact- A John price fic.

Random inspo I had, but hopefully people enjoy it. I stayed up till 7am writing it lol. Might make something out of this but I idk yet.

I have attention span issues so if it veer off, please don’t come at me for it. I’ve skimmed over it, but there’s probably some things I missed and grammatical mistakes. Thank you❤️

Word count: 3k+

MDNI- mature themes, language, choking, supernatural beings, dark themes.

I told myself to be home by midnight, before the hunting hour started. To lock myself safely in my home, surrounded by wards.

Sigils adorned the doors and windows, passed down from generation to generation by witches determined to protect their dwellings.

The eerie stillness of the night was broken by distant howls and screams, while sinister whispers lured unsuspecting victims into their grasp. These cunning creatures preyed upon human greed, offering promises of fulfilling desires before revealing their true, malevolent nature through blood-red eyes hidden within the shadows.

"I'll give you everything you desire"

" You will desire nothing else, if you come closer"

I pay no heed to their twisted tongues, for I know the moment I look their way, or so much as utter a word, I'll be trapped in their soulless hell. Become a mindless creature like them, existing only to feed on souls until the earth turns to dust.

And I refuse to become one.

I pull my coat tighter around me, trying to shield myself from the biting chill. But it seems to seep through every layer, penetrating deep into my bones. Come to us.

The gusts seem to have a life of their own, swirling and dancing around me, almost taunting me with their strength. As I trudge through the forest, trees now look twisted and tortured under the relentless assault of the wind. Nothing on this earth is truly safe from their wicked powers.

Their branches whip back and forth, creaking as if in pain. Some of them have already succumbed, their broken limbs littering the ground like casualties of war. Despite the fierce resistance of the trees, the wind shows no signs of letting up. It blows with such force that I struggle to keep my balance, stumbling over rocks and roots that are hidden beneath a carpet of leaves. My hair is wild and tangled, whipped into a frenzy by the wind's powerful grasp. 

As I stand in the midst of this chaotic scene, I can feel the energy of the whispers pulsating through the air. They seem to be growing more desperate by the second, their voices becoming more urgent and insistent. These phantom entities, longing for control over my soul, reach out towards me with ethereal hands that pass right through my body.

But I refuse to acknowledge them, refusing to give them the power they so desperately crave. Meanwhile, the trees around me struggle against the relentless force of the wind. Some bend and sway gracefully, while others are unable to withstand the intense pressure and break, crashing to the ground with a loud thunderous sound. My heart aches at the sight of these ancient trees, some of them hundreds of years old. Despite surviving in such a harsh environment, they stood tall and thrived, only to be struck down by the dark forces of hell.  Life is truly, cruel.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My small home, tucked away in the dense forest, comes into view. Smoke curls out of the chimney and warm light spills through the windows, creating a comforting glow. Thick moss clings to the weathered stone walls, leading up to the old black roof. A protective barrier of sturdy stone surrounds my home, making it feel like a fortress. My pace quickens as I approach, eager to escape the eerie whispers and relentless winds that seem to follow me. But as I near my house, all sounds of nature cease and an ominous silence settles over the land. My steps falter as my eyes narrow, scanning for any signs of danger.

Suddenly, a swirling mist materializes to my right, coalescing into the form of a tall, muscular man. Curled horns protrude from his head and his bright red eyes lock onto mine with malicious intent. My heart races as I realize he is a demon - not just any demon, but one of great power and influence. I recognize him from my extensive research on the seven gates of hell - standing before me is none other than John Price himself, ruler and master of all seven gates.

In a deep, smooth voice with a British accent, he sneers at me with a wicked grin. "Well hello there, little witch," he says mockingly as he takes slow steps towards me. Fear courses through my body like ice water. Why does his voice sound so familiar? That nickname….

“ John” I say, somehow holding my voice steady despite the tremble in my body. my hands twitch at my sides, ready to defend myself. “ what do you want?” I hiss. but he just smiles even wider, tilting his head at me. 

“ Can’t I visit a lonely little witch? whom lives by herself in the forest”. He steps closer. 

“ no, you cannot. I have no business with you, demon” 

A sharp gasp escapes my lips as he materializes in front of me. He leans down, bringing us eye-to-eye, his intense gaze locking with mine. The scent of smoke and fresh pine fills my nostrils, mingling together in an intoxicating combination. His long fingers, slender yet strong, grasp my chin firmly yet gently, his thumb lightly caressing my cheek. His touch, it feels familiar too. But why?

“ Been watching you, darling. A nasty little witch you are” His breath fans my face, our close proximity jolting my senses back into place. 

I grit my teeth, taking another cautious step back as his hands fall from my face. His amusement is evident in the glittering mischief in his eyes and the sly curve of his lips. I feel a surge of electricity tingling at my fingertips, slowly spreading up my arm until bolts of raw energy flicker and dance beneath my skin. With a few whispered chants, I channel the power and unleash a dazzling bolt of lightning towards him. The air crackles with anticipation as the bright beam strikes the earth where he stands, sending up a cloud of dust in its wake. The ground trembles beneath me, humming with residual energy. 

my eyes narrow as the dust fades away, and there he stands. a cloud of mist surrounding him in a protective barrier.  This grimy little bitch.

“ Now darling, that wasn’t very nice”

“ Oh really? thought i’d give you a proper welcome” I sneer, my fingers twitching again. my mind reeling for a plan.  My grandmother never said anything about defending myself against the king of hell. What the hell am I supposed to do.

The mist around him disappears into the earth. He crosses his arms.

" Well you could do me" he retorts and I frown. Get out of my head!

I send another bolt his way, and he deflects it with a flick of his wrist. John's laughter echoes through the forest, sending shivers down my spine.

" What do you want John. I haven't broken any laws, nor did I summon you".

His eyes gleam with amusement as he takes a leisurely stroll around me, his steps echoing in the unnatural silence that surrounds us.

"I do love a feisty one," he muses, his voice smooth like silk yet carrying an underlying edge of danger. "But I'm not here for your misdeeds, dear witch. No, I am here for something far more intriguing."

My heart pounds in my chest as I try to maintain a façade of calmness, even as his presence threatens to overwhelm me. "Then what is it that you seek from me, demon?" I demand, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at the edges of my mind.

John Price's smile widens, revealing a row of perfectly straight and gleaming white teeth that seem to glint in the dim light. As he approaches me, his footsteps fall with an air of confidence and authority. He stops in front of me, tilting his head to reveal the sharp angles of his jawline beneath his beard, and the way the moonlight catches in his dark hair.

"I have come to claim you, little witch," he purrs, his voice low and smooth like velvet. I can feel his warm breath on my skin as he speaks.

"Claim me? What the fuck are you talking about?" I snap back, my anger boiling over at his bold words.

"Your coven, centuries ago, promised me a bride if I granted them power," he explains, his eyes never leaving mine. "Twenty generations from then, a woman will be born with powers stronger than any witches before her. And only she will be worthy of becoming my bride." A knowing smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth as he finishes his declaration.

And if I could've sent every last bit of my powers away, I would have on spot. Simply bag them and ship them off to the next person.

The earth trembles beneath my feet, my anger coursing through me like molten lava. My eyes blaze with a fiery red intensity as I bring my hand up to meet his chest. The wind responds to my rage and strengthens, pushing him back with a forceful gust. He stumbles several feet before landing gracefully on his feet, a smug smirk plastered across his face. I grit my teeth, wishing desperately to wipe that lecherous expression off of his creepy features. "My, my," he purrs, "those eyes are like untamed flames."

He watches me with a mixture of amusement and fascination as I confront him with a strength that surprises even myself. The air crackles with tension as we stand facing each other, a silent battle of wills raging between us. I can feel the power coursing through my veins, a primal energy that demands release.

With a fierce determination, I raise my hands towards the sky, calling upon the elements to aid me in this dire moment. The wind howls in response, whipping my hair around my face like a dark shroud. The trees sway in a wild dance, their leaves rustling in a chorus of support.

John Price's eyes widen with recognition as he senses the ancient magic surging around me. In a swift motion, he raises his own hands, summoning shadows that twist and coil at his command. Darkness engulfs him as he prepares to strike back with his formidable powers. No, he’d never hurt me. But how do I know that?

Emotions wage a war inside me.

But I am ready for him. With a primal scream that echoes through the forest.

With a fierce cry, I unleash a bolt of lightning so powerful that it reverberates through the earth, leaving my body trembling with its force. The smell of ozone fills the air as electricity crackles around us, sending shockwaves into the ground and trees. And then suddenly, I am flying backwards, my back slamming against a rough bark of a tree. The impact knocks all the air from my lungs and I land on all fours, gasping for breath.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, I see John lying on the ground, his body smoking from the electric blast. Despite my own discomfort, anger surges within me. I grit my teeth as I struggle to stand, my muscles protesting from the jarring impact. God that hurts like a bitch.

But even as I rise, determined to keep fighting, I hear him chuckling. It is a sinister sound that sends shivers down my spine. My eyes narrow as I face him, ready to take him down. As if I could, I know I’m not strong enough.

"That's what I need," he groans as he stands, brushing off his clothes with an air of nonchalance. His red eyes have returned to their normal state, but they seem even darker now - like staring into a void.

"You want more?" I growl, raising my hands to strike again. But he raises his own in a mocking surrender. "I don't wish to fight you, little witch," he says with a sly smile. "A man should never harm a woman."

His words are like a slap in the face to me. This man is supposed to be the king of Hell, yet he claims to be against hitting women? I scoff in disbelief.

"Oh please," I retort. "Don't expect me to believe that for a second."

He shrugs as if it doesn't matter to him one way or another. And then suddenly, mist begins to form around my feet and up over my body. It spreads like a thick fog, rendering me immobile. Panic sets in as I struggle to break free.

"Let me go!" I shout, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to force myself out of the misty grip. But it seems to have a will of its own, keeping me firmly in place.

" I can't do that, love". He appears behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I hiss at the contact, his touch sending jolts through my skin.

“Now sleep, my love” He whispers. and I curse myself, as my eyes start to grow heavy. “w-what”. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am jolted into consciousness, my body drenched in a cold sweat. My mind pulsates with a throbbing ache, as if being relentlessly pounded by a massive block of stone. With wide eyes, I frantically scan my unfamiliar surroundings.

It is then that I notice John seated in the corner of the room, engrossed in a book. His calm demeanor reveals no trace of concern or surprise, almost as if abducting people is just another routine task for him.

The audacity of this man! I want to strangle him.

"Where the hell have you taken me?" I shout at him, but he simply ignores me. Fine, if we're playing games now.

I curl my index finger and softly whisper a few words. Suddenly, his chair bursts into flames, scorching his backside. He springs up from his seat, dropping his book and grabbing his now charred rear end. As he curses and flails about, I smirk at him.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?" I mock with a smug tone.

The fiery gaze of John meets my own as he casually pats his still-smoking ass. My questioning eyes shift to the discarded book on the ground, my raised eyebrow expressing confusion. "A cook book? Is that truly your book of choice?" I prod. He responds with an eye roll, snatching the book from the floor in annoyance.

Maybe I'm unhinged for being so casual at the moment, but my head hurts too much to really care. I'll unpack this after ibuprofen.

“You insufferable woman, you ruined my favorite armchair,” John seethes, pointing to the charred remains. I roll my eyes, unimpressed by his dramatics. You just kidnapped a witch and you're over here fretting over a chair.

“Take me back home,” I demand, standing my ground.

“No,” he replies firmly, a hint of anger in his voice. What is wrong with this man?

“Yes, I refuse to be your unwilling wife,” I argue, climbing out of bed and trailing after him as he storms into his closet. He pulls out a pair of unburned pants.

“You don’t have a say in this matter,” he declares. I cross my arms in defiance, scoffing at his arrogance.

“Because forcefully taking a wife against her will always make for a happy marriage,” I retort sarcastically.

My cheeks flush with embarrassment when he casually removes his burnt pants, standing only in his undergarments. "Jesus!" I exclaim, quickly turning around to face the wall. He chuckles behind me, clearly amused by my discomfort. " Jesus is not here, darling"

oh fuck right off.

I hear the sound of a zipper, followed by his footsteps approaching. I turn around, bumping my nose into his chest. not expecting him to stand so close. “ the hell” I mumble, rubbing my nose.

“ let me see this contract my coven signed. there’s got to be a loophole. I mean, why me? there’s other witches out there”.

I follow him out of the closet. He spins around, pushing me against the wall. I narrow my eyes, lifting a finger to zap his ass when he slowly pushes my finger down. as if I just showed him an ugly photo.

he then places both his hands on either side of my head. “ be a good girl and hush, yeah?”.

his low husky voice sends a shiver down my spine. fuck me, what’s wrong with me.

“ You be a good boy and release me, yeah?” I mock, smiling.

his hand slithers up to my throat, grabbing it tightly. he growls, I feel the rumble in his chest against mine. 

"You wouldn't dare," I gasp, struggling to breathe as his grip tightens around my neck. The fear in my eyes is unmistakable, a raw and primal emotion that courses through my veins like poisoned venom.

"Try me," he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. I can see the darkness within him, the deep-seated hatred and anger that has been simmering inside him for centuries. So much for not harming women, huh? bipolar asshole.

And then, without warning, he lets go of my throat. There's a strange mixture of relief and disappointment that washes over me as he steps back. He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes firmly fixed on me.

" All I want is for you to accept your fate and become my wife. I want no one else but you" His voice is calm, almost soothing, but there's an underlying edge to it.

His words prick at something in my brain, erupting pain through my skull.

I glare fiercely at him, mustering all my hate into my eyes. As if that alone could poof him into dust. " Fuck you, you crazy bipolar demon"

He shakes his head, walking away from me. leaving me standing against the wall, mind reeling and grasping for any ration response.

I mean, not even ten hours ago I was freely walking through the forest on my own, collecting herbs. And now, I'm stuck god knows where with a demon who claims I'm his bride.

But why does it feel like I know him?

My head pounds, sharp pain piercing my temples. I cry out, grabbing the sides of my head as I crouch down. Whispers ringing in my ears, the voices of my mother and grandmother.

As fragmented images race through my thoughts, I am transported back in time. Current reality intertwines with hazy flashbacks, creating a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions. In one vivid recollection, I am young and standing in my mother's bedroom. Her screams echo off the walls as she fiercely argues with my grandmother.

Tears stream down her cheeks, "I will take her away, far from his reach." With a forceful shove, she pushes my grandmother out of the way and storms into the closet. Mom, why are you crying.

Overwhelmed by the intense scene before me, I tremble and cry silently. Despite my limited understanding at the time, I know that something is gravely amiss, and it involves me. "There's not a place in heaven or hell where he won't find her, Eylean. Our ancestors made the deal, and there's nothing we can do to stop it" My grandmother argues, chasing after my mother.

Come outside, sweetheart. A voice whispers in my head, gentle and comforting. Come to me.

I do as the voice says, running out of my mothers room. My little legs struggling to keep up with the fast pace, threatening to misstep. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I ran, adrenaline driving me forward. The sound of the back door slamming echoed in my ears, a reminder of the argument that had just taken place, the booming voices inside. Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled towards the stone fence, desperate to get away from the chaos inside.

Why, why me?

With trembling hands, I gripped onto the rough edges of the stones and pulled myself up and over the fence. My clothes snagged against the sharp edges, leaving small tears and scrapes on my skin. But I don't care. All I want is to reach my safe haven. As I reached the other side, my feet hit the soft grass and I took off running again. The cool air brushed against my tear-stained cheeks as I made my way towards the massive red oak tree. It stood tall and proud, its branches reaching towards the sky as if welcoming me with open arms. With shaky breaths, I collapsed against the trunk of the tree. The vines that twisted around it provided a sense of comfort, almost like they were hugging me. I wrapped my arms around my knees and buried my face in my legs, letting out loud sobs as I tried to calm my racing thoughts and emotions.

The wind started to howl, the force of it whipping through my hair and stinging my cheeks. I could feel tears sliding down my face as I tried to make sense of what was happening. The wind calmed, replaced by the sudden cold chill in my bones. Raising my head slowly, I glanced around through my blurry vision. Through the mist that had settled in front of me, I saw a figure emerge. It was a man, his large build crouching down in front of me. As he placed a comforting hand on my knee, I caught a glimpse of his bright blue eyes. They were like pools of clear water, sparkling and drawing me in.

Despite my fear and confusion, I couldn't help but gaze into them, feeling strangely captivated. A small smile tugged at the corners of the man's mouth, as if he were trying his best to offer comfort. His voice, deep and soothing, was one that I recognized from earlier. The sound of his accent brought a slight sense of familiarity. He spoke softly, reassuring me, "It's okay sweetheart. You're safe here." But I couldn't stop the sobs that wracked my body, my mind still reeling from the events that had just unfolded. "But they're fighting," I hiccupped, shaking my head. "Mommy says a bad man is going to get me." My words came out barely audible through my tears, but the man seemed to understand.

He moves to sit down beside me, our body’s brushing against each other.

“ I’m already here, little witch”

[konigs-whore]

Fae Price

A potential Darling appears Meet Cute The Witch 141 Places a Bet Miss Me Playing with Tethers Cigars A Bet with the Witch Failed Spells (a personal matter) Tea Time The Fae Trap Gaz meets the Witch Tapped Apologies Testing the Threshold Enforcing the Threshold Knit Cap Protected Sweetheart The Mimic The Mimic (pt2) The Mimic (pt3) First Date Scared Wanted Beat At His Own Game At your Throat Invisible Claims Samhein Rituals Winter Witch Let Me Keep You(Here's My Name, Burden Me) A Pillow for your Head Misuse of Magic Aftercare Changeling Anniversary Brain Rot (MDNI) Tattoo and Part Two Burden Me Scruffing Gifts Winter in the Garden This is just tit play (minor reader desc) MDNI Not-so-temporary Tattoo Sappy Possessive Magic Fingers (MDNI)

Non Canon

Broken Wards

You wanna Fuck both of them???

In the Middle Play with Witch(MDNI)

Reverse Fae!AU

The Sun The Flirting

[konigs-whore]

1Fae1 AU

References and FAQ

Ghost

Soap

Gaz

Price

Roach

Los Vaqueros

König

Valeria

Keegan

NonCanon Stuff

Drunk Love Barely a peck Liebling Dies

OC Stuff

Liebling’s Sight The Shopkeep's Union Threat x Reader Witch Fucks Someone Up

[konigs-whore]

mmmm i have thoughts about being threatened because you're simon riley's girl and them realizing that you're not the lady in distress they thought you would be (18+)

it is late when you get to your car. your shoulders sag from a long night at work, and you can't wait to curl up on the couch with something warm to eat and something strong to drink to lull you into a peaceful sleep tonight.

you're alone. he should be home any day now, but you aren't fortunate enough to know when that is. that is how this works, and you accepted that a long time ago. if anything, it made you appreciate the times when he is close, when he is at home. it makes your connection special, and you are comforted by the fact that your bond is more than physical.

your eyes droop, and you don't pay attention to the vehicle three cars behind you that's been tailing you since you left. you press the brake and toe the accelerator on autopilot and memory alone, and you zone out as you cross familiar streets. you think you saw a new movie to watch last night, and you think about how nice it'll be to play it as you cook dinner.

you park in your usual spot, getting out and shutting the door behind you. you open the backseat, grabbing your bag and closing the door. in the reflection of the mirror, you see someone behind you, just standing there.

you react first. you toss your head back and smack him with the back of your skull, and you're satisfied when you hear the telltale crunch of a nose breaking. when you spin around to face him, he's shouting, cradling his nose, but he flicks a blade out quickly, pressing you up against your car and putting the sharp edge to your neck.

"fuck!" he cries. "fuck! what did you fucking do?!"

you raise a brow, "you sneak up on a lady like that, and you wanna start complaining?"

"shut the fuck up," he snapped. you don't flinch, even as he digs the blade a little more into your neck. you tighten your jaw at the feeling of the edge pricking you a little. you narrow your eyes, tilting your head to the side.

"this isn't random...is it?" you ask. he stands tall, taller than you at least. he's a scrawny thing, but he's still bigger than you, and he has a weapon. his pupils are a little dilated, telling you he have taken something for the edge, and he fidgets. he's wearing a black bandana to cover the lower half of his face, but you can see the peek of brunette curls and the wild green of his eyes. you memorize the eyes, the accent--ukranian, georgian, russian? you try to place it as he speaks again.

"mm..." he shakes his head, "you're smart girl, i'll give you that."

you click your tongue, "then i don't have to tell you what a bad idea this is, do i?"

"it's because of that, that's why i'm doing this--" he comes closer, and his breath stinks, even through the mask. "they fucked with me, so i'll fuck with them. starting with their whores."

you tilt your head to the side, "oh...you really..." you smile a little, and it is off-putting. he frowns a bit momentarily. the smile you wear startles him. "you really don't get it."

"no, this is--"

"they won't just come for you," you whisper. "they're going to come for your family. mom. dad. sisters. brothers. cousins, friends--" you grit your teeth, "anyone that even so much as opens a fucking door for you or shines your goddamn shoes is going to lose a limb, are you ready for that?" you snarl a bit. "and when they find you, which they will, believe me--" you laugh, "it will be slow. it will be painful. you think you're the first?"

"fucking--"

"you aren't," you snap. "you're not the first, and you won't be the last." you glare at him, meeting his crazed eyes, and you take a deep, shaking breath. "so i want you to think again about what you're doing. i want you think about what it is you're going to do. because for every scratch they find on me...they are going to give it back to you." you blink, "so think. i'll wait."

you lean back against your car, your posture relaxed, your feet steady. it unnerves him, how calm you are. how you don't flinch, how nothing scares you, not even with his blade right against your soft skin. it doesn't phase you, and it's terrifying.

"they stole from me," he says finally. "eye for an eye. you'll just have to accept that."

you sigh, pouting a little.

"god, i...i really wish...i really wish you hadn't said that."

you bang on your car with one hand, drawing his attention away from you for just a moment. with your other, you slip your keys into your fist and you swing. you block his knife-wielding arm, sinking the pointed end of the key into his face, and you go for the vulnerable spots. back to his bleeding, broken nose, against his mouth, and the finishing blow, right into his eye.

he screams, the knife clattering to the floor, and he drops to his knees, cradling his bloody face. his hands shake, and you put your foot to his chest and kick, knocking him onto his back on the pavement.

you pick up the blade, holding it steady before you step on his neck, making him wheeze. he thrashes, preoccupied with wondering if he'll go blind in one eye.

"i told you," you spit. "you're not the first."

for a moment, your resolve breaks. your lip trembles, and you squeeze the handle of the blade tight for stability. this is the price you pay for loving someone. this is what you must do to keep a ghost, and although you feel strong and resilient and capable, you feel fear, too.

"he'll have to be the last, then."

your head snaps to the side when you hear it. he stands on the sidewalk, duffel bag at his feet. he's still wearing his gear--and fuck, he looks so big when he wears it. he looks so broad, the boots make him just that much taller, and it seems as if he hasn't had time to unload the artillery he normally wears. there's a gun holstered to his thigh and magazines stuffed into their pockets in his vest. he still wears his mask, eye-black smeared messily across his pale face.

it means he came here immediately--it means he didn't have time to undress. it means he wanted to come home, and come home fast.

you breathe easier when you see him there. when you step aside and the man beneath you gets a look at him with his good eye, he starts to cry. he sputters, starts to beg, but it falls on deaf ears.

the gravel on the pavement crunches under his boots as he comes near. like a magnet, a gloved hand comes up and grips you firmly on the back of the neck, and you lean up on your toes, tilting your head back just enough to kiss him through the mask.

it's soft, sweet, a little hungry after the time apart. you pull away slowly, smiling up at him. he narrows his eyes, angry, but it isn't at you.

"missed you," you whisper, and he grips your jaw with one big hand, tilting your head to the side. he grunts when he sees the thin line left behind from the blade, tiny droplets of blood beginning to peek out from it. "missed you so much--"

you gasp when his hand falls and gropes you. cupping one side of your ass, squeezing the fat of it in his paw and drawing you near. he pressed the front of you against him, despite the layers that separate you, and he hisses.

"are you olright?"

you nod. "just fine. he's new at this, i think."

you hum as he squeezes your ass again, patting it gently before nodding back towards home.

"get inside," he leans down and presses his covered mouth to yours again, and you can feel the rumble of his growl deep in his chest. "gonna rid y'of the rubbish, sweetheart."

[konigs-whore]

call of duty masterlist

note: i write any and all readers with plus size bodies in mind, but they can be read as size neutral if need be. the same goes for skin tones/hair types, i try my best to make it a blank canvas for the reader to imagine themselves in. if you notice something i could’ve done better or made more inclusive, please don’t hesitate to let me know in my askbox with a quote of what you’re referring to.

series:

ready to comply:

summary: on january 09, 2020, the 141’s medic is captured by hydra, and believed to be dead. until the task force is ambushed a year later, by a brainwashed super soldier who perfectly resembles the ‘dead’ medic.

tags: mcu/cod crossover, winter soldier reader, poly ghost/reader/soap, gn! reader.

saudade:

only the preview at the moment, full fic coming soon

summary: saudade : (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; “the love that remains”.

tags: featuring; future poly ghoap x reader!!!!, american! reader referred to as “you”, childhood best friends to lovers, penpal au!, lanyard references at the bottom

one shots/multi parters:

captain john price:

peppers:

price has been fantasizing about you ever since you arrived on base — and it’s time to act on those fantasies. (part 1 of 4)

obedient:

the captain’s cerulean gaze weren’t the only eyes burning a hole into you. while the captain was fantasizing about bending you over his desk and thrusting his cock inside your wet cunt, the lieutenant’s honeyed eyes were staring at you and fantasizing about the exact same thing. (part 2 of 4)

thigh riding:

exactly what it says on the tin.

talking you through it:

what it says on the tin.

ring:

price fingering you with his wedding ring. bday gift for @/loveyhoneydovey

fucked stupid:

blurb of price fucking you stupid.

beard burn:

riding prices face.

thigh fixation:

what it says on the tin.

lieutenant simon ghost riley:

just wanna be yours:

for the longest time, simon was content with your friends with benefits arrangement. at least, that’s what he told himself. until one day, he wasn’t.

obedient:

the captain’s cerulean gaze weren’t the only eyes burning a hole into you. while the captain was fantasizing about bending you over his desk and thrusting his cock inside your wet cunt, the lieutenant’s honeyed eyes were staring at you and fantasizing about the exact same thing. (part 2 of 4)

late night work:

you’re clingy and desperate for him to come to bed. he’s stuck at his computer, working late at night. the only reasonable solution? cockwarming.

fresh ink:

thigh riding.

staring:

weirdo/perv ghost with a staring problem

johnny soap mactavish:

sub soap hc:

what it says on the tin.

werewolf soap hc:

what it says on the tin.

pent up:

his specialty is teasing. though it usually leads to him getting put in his place.

best friend soap oral/somno ramble

crescents in his skin 1

you and soap were inseparable, usually. at least until a few months ago when he got injured on a mission. ever since then, he hasn’t been able to even be in your vicinity. maybe it has something to do with his newfound strength. or the way you could swear his eyes shone amber when he was angry.

thigh riding with captain mactavish

what it says on the tin.

dirty talk with captain mactavish

what it says on the tin.

thigh fixation:

what it says on the tin.

sergeant kyle gaz garrick:

déjà vu:

ready to comply - verse drabble au. gaz is captured by hydra almost a year into your disappearance, and the first thing he sees when he’s in captivity is.. you. alive.

bloody shame:

bloody shame is all gaz can think when he overhears his best friend confess that no one has been able to make her finish. so he takes that into his own hands. what else could he do? he’s just being a good friend.

good boy:

submissive gaz x dom male reader, edging and orgasm denial

poly 141:

thanks for the tip:

drabble for future fic, camgirl reader au

keegan p. russ

keegan ‘pussy eater’ russ:

keegan oral headcanons

unknown number:

stalker keegan fic dedicated to @divine--serenity <3

könig:

black and blue:

you mark him up with love bites, all black and blue.

shiny new toy:

he gets a little too comfortable socializing with a flirty recruit. so you put him in his place.

concepts and thoughts:

ghoap:

prompt ask for induratize (soulmate au)

bodyguard stalker au

sergeant johnny mactavish:

standing full nelson thought with captain mactavish

how many fingers?

capt mactavish calling you “his sergeant”

thigh riding w captain mactavish

three times

john price:

summary for limerence (ex husband price au)

slipping a ring on during sex

calling you “his soldier”

“attagirl”

piggybacking off of vgilantee’s post here

task force 141:

stealing your romance books

monster/demon 141 thoughts

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.