I have a boss who says “atta girl” to me whenever he approves of something I’ve done. I’m 23. But holy SHIT does it make me blush. Just thinking abt reader getting all fidgety n shit bc a member of the 141 has said smthn like that to them…
Nng anonnnn that is so price trying to manipulate his secretary into not snitching @///@
You get hundreds of papers on your desk in a week, yet you somehow manage to catch the discrepancies in his teams accounts of events versus another teams. You brought it to price first, of course you did, he's been spending so much time making sure you trust and rely on him for help.
Sure, he uses your little crush against you, corners you against his desk and traps you in by leaning a hand on it. "Just change it to our account, love, chances are they rushed that report anyways."
"Uhm— I could check the other reports—" you offer, stumbling and squirming when he growls low in displeasure. "Ah— you're right, i know gaz spends so long making sure his work is right. I'll change it."
You're rewarded with a firm pat on the hip and prices gruff "atta girl."
price’s wife is the calm center of the storm, the one who can make the entire task force stop bickering with just one look or a quiet word.
soap calls her “ma’am” in the most respectful yet cheeky tone, but he secretly thinks of her as the team’s good-luck charm.
gaz always says she has the best tea-making skills, even better than price (to which price just grumbles and rolls his eyes).
ghost never says much, but everyone notices how he subtly relaxes when she’s around. she’s one of the few people he allows to pat his shoulder or hand him a cup of coffee without flinching.
she insists on feeding them whenever they visit. “you can’t fight on an empty stomach,” she says, and soap once declared her shepherd’s pie “a national treasure.”
price becomes softer around her, though he tries to hide it. the squad teases him when she calls him “love” on comms during a mission check-in.
she writes little notes for each of them—tiny motivational words or jokes tucked into their packs before missions. ghost keeps them all, folded neatly in a pocket of his gear.
gaz often calls her “mum” by accident when she fusses over his cuts or bruises, and she just smiles.
soap once tried to teach her how to shoot better, but she ended up outscoring him on the range. ghost and gaz didn’t let him live it down for weeks.
she’s the only one who can tell price when he’s pushing himself too hard. when she tells him to rest, he actually listens.
during holidays, she sets up a small celebration for the squad—no matter how chaotic life gets, she always makes them feel like they have a home to come back to.
ghost once said quietly, “she’s the only one who doesn’t see the mask,” and everyone understood exactly what he meant.
price looks at her like she’s his anchor, the only thing that keeps him grounded when the job tries to take too much from him.
they all agree that if anyone dared to hurt her, the wrath of 141 would be terrifying.
Now guys...consider sunbear!reader with polar bear!price...
Bear hybrids have a bit of a reputation. Strong, aggressive, territorial. When the team hears they're getting a new bear hybrid, price is both excited and wary. Hes a polar bear hybrid, and knows damn well having two bears on a team can be hard to balance.
So imagine his surprise when he sees you. Sure, ur not tiny or anything, but you dont exactly tower over people like other bears do. Ur polite to the team, not bothering to kick up unnecessary fights. Often you just slink off to Ur room after ur required work is done, brushing off further socialization casually.
Not unheard of for bears to be antisocial, but some part of him is a bit sad he cant bond with the only other bear on team. It takes a long time for you to warm up to the team, but eventually you join in for meals and occasional trips to the bar.
Which means the first time u join breakfast is also the first time price sees you eat. He nearly chokes on his food when you grab a small cup of honey and fucking lick into it with an insanely long tongue. Its absolutely obscene. He can see the way ur tongue presses against the insides of the glass and wiggles around to scoop up the last drops. You make it look effortless.
Price cant help but wonder what that skilled tongue would feel like in his mouth. Or maybe on his cock. hes alot bigger than you, would you even be able to handle him? Gaz kicks price under the table and raises a brow, reminding the captain that hes in public and has been staring at a subordinate while sporting a half-chub for the past 10 minutes.
you kiss him for the first time not really knowing what it means but simon shows you what a real kiss feels like.
you were curled up on the couch with the tv playing in the background. you weren't really paying attention. just letting the sounds fill the quiet space until simon came back. well that was until the scene suddenly changed catching your attention.
a breathy gasp escaped you as the scene of a man and a woman filled the screen. they were pressed close, their lips were touching. something deep inside you ached the same way it did when you had seen simon in the shower. your ears twitched, heat creeping up your neck as you watched.
you didn't understand why your body suddenly felt so hot. but you did know that you wanted simon to touch you like that. the thought of his lips on yours made your breath catch in your throat. you squirmed, the fabric of your clothes suddenly too tight and the room too hot. you wanted his hands on you, his mouth on yours.
the front door clicked open and you flinched, scrambling to turn off the tv. simon stepped inside and his eyes immediately found you.
"hey, kitten," he rumbled, his voice warm. his gaze narrowed slightly as he took in the way you squirmed as if you had been caught doing something you shouldn't have. "you okay?"
you nodded, your tail puffing up in embarrassment. you couldn't explain the strange, throbbing want between your legs, the way your heart raced just looking at him now. you raced to avoid his eyes as he perked his brows up.
but simon always knew—you were practically an open book to him.
he set his gear down slowly, walking towards you. when he crouched in front of you, his hands settled on your knees.
"what's got you all worked up, huh?" he asked, scratching behind your ears.
you throat suddenly felt dry, blood rushed to your ears as your heart pounded faster. you gathered every ounce of courage, leaning forward to press your lips against his. it was very clumsy—just a soft peck that barely lasted a second before you pulled back.
simon blinked then a deep laugh burst out of him. "that what you were tryin' to do, kitten? fuckin' hell—" he wheezed. "thought you were gonna bite me for a second."
your face burned hotter, tail lashing in embarrassment. you tried to squirm away but his grip tightened on your thighs—pinning you in place.
his mouth was on yours and you instantly melted into him.
this was nothing like the awkward little peck you'd given him. his lips were shockingly soft and they moved against yours with a confidence that made your tail curl. his tongue swiped at your bottom lip and you gasped, letting him deepen the kiss.
a soft purr erupted in your chest, your fingers tangling in his shirt. it felt as if the world tilted on it's axis. you liked having your lips on his. it made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.
"there you go," he whispered against your lips. "that's called a kiss, sweetheart."
Ghost and reader who aren't dating, but they aren't exactly not dating, either.
Youve intentionally left it unnamed, whatever is happening between you and simon. There's no words that could really capture it without somehow altering whats there. Partners? Roommates? Friends? Something tender, anyways.
Even when hes gone from the flat for months at a time, that spark and energy is always right there when he returns. Simon loops his arms around ur waist and noses at ur neck, mutters about how hes missed good body wash. You both know he really means he missed your body wash.
You miss him too, of course. Sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothes while hes out. Usually just his hoodie, but sometimes you toss on one of his balaclavas when the ache is too much. The first time simon saw it he told you you look like a knock-off version of him, then promptly tackled u into the sofa for cuddles.
Whatever resemblance is there from the stolen clothes seems to be enough, though. Because in the middle of the night while your making tea in the dark—simons favourite because you really miss him— a fucking hand presses a cloth to ur mouth. You cant even think to fight off whoever it is before ur passing out.
When i come to, ur being hauled down a concrete hallway that smells honestly disgusting. You jerk and stumble from the way ur ankles and hands are chained together, before large hands bodily shove you into a cell.
When you muster the courage to look up, across the hall from your bars you see a familiar man in a mohawk. Johnny, who visited last year on Christmas. In the cells directly next to both of yours, is an older guy youve seen in simons phone background, and the pretty guy who brought a drunk simon home to you one night.
"Holy shit—" johnny gasps, then lowers his voice to a whisper "they fuckin' grabbed his spouse."
i feel like he doesnt play about mini skirts/dresses. maybe throw in thigh highs because computer nerds are all the same usually
asking your opinion for a friend ofc i dont want to bent over in a skirt
oh he’d love it. the oversized tee shirt and knee sock combo (not to be 2013 tumblr) but he’d get soooo hard. but the mini skirt/sundress combo? he’d DIEEEEEE. “come here real quick” and then all of the sudden you’re bent over in his office looking at an unfinished spreadsheet while he’s spreading YOU🥹
He just brings home your favorite drink without asking.
He buys the ugly little pink plushie you pointed at one time three weeks ago and tosses it on the bed like it's no big deal. Doesn’t even look at you. Just mutters,
“Figured you’d like it. Don’t make it a thing.”
It is a thing. Your chest is full.
You once complained offhandedly about your favorite ramen spot being closed for the day.
The next day he made you ramen. From scratch. With a scowl on his face and flour on his nose.
When you get cold, he doesn’t ask. Just grumbles,
“Come here,”
and throws a blanket over both of you. arm around your waist, hand rubbing your hip under the fabric.
When you’re sick, he doesn’t say a word.
Just disappears and comes back with four bags of medicine, three different kinds of soup, and a plushie shaped like a strawberry cow.
The cashier asked if it was for his kid.
He said, “No. For my wife.”
And then made direct eye contact until the guy stopped smiling.
He doesn’t show his love loudly.
He just gives you the last bite of his food without asking.
He puts himself between you and the street when you walk.
He silently kneels to help you tie your shoe if you’re struggling with the laces.
He gets irrationally angry if your socks are wet.
“Why didn’t you tell me your feet were cold? What am I here for then?”
And when you tell him you love him? He freezes for a second, ears going red.
Then mutters, voice low,
fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this
simon hitting on the cashier at his fav coffee shop !!!
Simon was *your* regular.
You were 99% sure Simon only visited the little café if you were on shift, that he came there just for you. Though... that seems a bit delusional.
Simon—spelled S-I-M-O-N— you always made sure to spell it correctly on his cup because in your head it mattered to him. He exclusively let you take his order, ring him up, and hand him cash.
It was the same routine; his usual grunts, his VERY intense eye contact, a $5 tip, and a gruff "thanks." Every single time you saw him.
...
"There's something wrong with the cup today."
His eyes locked on yours as he handed it over, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
You raise a brow as you investigate the cup and there on the back, in chicken scratch.. is his phone number.
“Oh..” You had to bite back a grin, fearing he'd think you were laughing at him. “Oh, I see.. Let me make you a new one and I will just..keep this.”
You could see his chest puffing up in satisfaction as he grunted a quick “yeah.”
I know this is a very “same shit different day” idea coming from me but
I’ve not been able to stop thinking about being Nikolai’s painfully shy, sheltered little house kitty hybrid. And of course he loves you more than anything, he’d give you anything in the world. You have a lace ruffle collar with a sweet little sterling silver bell because otherwise he’d keep losing you in the house— so quiet and withdrawn when it comes to anything and anyone that isn’t him. But there’s one thing he can’t give you, something he knows would be perfect for you—
He wants to see you round and cute with kittens.
So he’s looking into getting you paired, but of course he won’t trust just anyone around his precious kotonek. There’s only one person he knows who has a cat hybrid— and that’s John. His cat, Simon, happens to be terribly socialized, surly, and notably doesn’t get along with other hybrids. In fact, he doesn’t get along with most humans either. But he’s extremely well trained— so Nik decides to give it a chance.
You already know something is strange when Nikolai leashes you. He never does that— not unless he’s afraid you’ll run off. Which means something scary is about to happen. At first you think it might just be John— though, he’s one of the only people who you let pet you. Then, you see the massive frame of the scarred up hybrid coming in behind him, leashed as well, and your tail bristles. True to form, you do twitch and shudder, but you know you can’t run.
“Milaya, you remember John. This is John’s hybrid, Simon.”
You sniff the air, and you remember this scent. Nik placed a blanket in your bed that smelled a little strange a few weeks ago— you regarded it cautiously but eventually were able to settle against it, which he took as a sign you’d accept Simon. If only you’d know what happened at John’s house— how Simon had smelled the pillowcase from your bed just as soon as John was in the house and nearly tore it from his hands, stealing it off to his own bed. He buried his teeth and face into it, taking the scent in deep and tugging at his cock until the frilly thing was covered in his cum. Price sent a picture to Nik immediately when he found the evidence.
“Think he’s got a crush on her, Nik.”
Now, Simon’s looking at you like he wants it straight from the source.
John Price who has ditzy!reader as their neighbor. | cw: mdni, fluff, suggestive content, age gap (30s John and late 20s reader)
You’re always peeking on your top toes over the stone wall that separates his property from the main road and ogling over how John takes care of his property. It’s lush and green, full of trees and trimmed hedges, full of beautiful flowers beds, hanging plants from the porch, perfectly bricked path that leads to the backyard, and John is there tinkering at the working bench.
You’re not as discreet as you should be when you’re peeking, it was easier for the older man to notice you because you let out little grunts when you try to look over the wall. Manicured nails and curly hair popping out while your big brown eyes take in the enchanting scenery. And you can’t help but look at John, watching him unconsciously flex his muscles and his back while wiping away the sweat that grows on his forehead— he’s a total dream. And then he’d turn around, hearing he hears the ‘click, clack’ of your kitten heels as you scurry away.
You’re a pretty little thing, he can’t help but eye you himself. He decides to see that little brain work, catch you slipping. Right as you get on your tip toes to peek over the stone wall, your eyes fall onto the new, large carved flower pots that sit near the shed. You can’t help but daydream about the flowers he’ll use. Maybe petunias, or marigolds, or some pink and yellow peonies—
“Are you gonna stare the whole time, or use your words?”
You slipped, chills running through you as you fell back immediately to the pavement. There’s laugher from the other side of the wall and then you hear the gate click open, revealing the man you’ve been staring at without him knowing.
“I- I didn’t,” you pant, hand over your chest, heart racing “I didn’t notice you there.”
“Well I noticed you,” he smirks, coming over and gently taking you by the hand, “You alright? Not hurt are you sweetheart?”
“Not at all.” You hum, dusting yourself.
“You’ve been spying over my wall, yeah?” He raises an eyebrow, playful, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “That’s not very neighborly is it love?”
Your chest pounds out of your chest, you stutter out, “I-It’s just- It’s so pretty! I saw it from up there!” You point, over to your little cottage just a walk at so away. A shabby and old stone two story house, with shrubbery growing out of country and vines climbing up the sides of the home.
He can’t help but get lost in your big brown eyes, your bottom lip pursed out as you try to explain to him why your innocent in this situation, not even realizing that John could care less about it. He just wanted to get closer to you.
Be neighborly.
He gives you a nod and understanding smile, “Why don’t we make your yard pretty too, could use a bit ‘f work, a little lady like you might need some help.”
And you nod, bright eyes and bushy tailed, squealing in excitement, you jump into his arms unexpectedly, taking John off guard.
“Thank you Mr. Price! You’re the best!” And you jump up and down, skipping away, “I have to finish some things at home but I’ll come back tomorrow! See ya later!” and you give him a big wave with your two hands.
You’d be the death to that old man.
John Price who teaches ditzy!reader how to build out her own flower beds with some old spare wood he had in the shed. He’s all the more patient with you even when you ask, “Why do you have to sand it down?” And “which nails do we use again Mr. Price?” He finds you to be the cutest thing on the planet. You don’t even realize that hes had his large hand on the small of your back this entire time but you’re so focused, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You only seem to only be able to take in one thing at a time.
John Price who has to hide his boner when you come over in nothing but a tight pair of shorts that hugs your ass and hips ever so perfectly and a small t-shirt that lifts everytime your raise your arms.
You tilt you head to the side, blinking twice, then smiling, “You alright Mr. Price?”
No, no he wasn’t.
But he’d simply smile, rushing you off to go back home since it was getting late. You’d furrow your eyebrows but oblige, ever so cutely waving goodbye. And right as the door to his locked shut, John was rushing to take a cold shower.
Ditzy!reader who doesn’t realize John is fully flirting with them. And he’s tried it all, getting close, saying cheesy pick up lines, making the hairy man show off his body. And of course all you do is stupidly giggle, and shy away, peeking over at the older man as your heart thumps so fast, the heat rising under your brown skin.
“Mr. Price you sure are silly, huh?” You always say, smoothing down your skirt nervously. You believe his actions are just accidents. Like his hand on your back, or his sweet compliments on your outfits and your pretty face, and the way he wipes crumbs off your face and licks his thumb that make your guts spin in delights. He must be kind to all the women he talks to.
John Price who takes it upon himself to inform you hes going to kiss you since you looked utterly stunning under the moon and twinkly lights glow after your weekly dinner in his garden.
You were already magnetically pulled together already, and you kept squirming, pushing your beautiful breasts up unconsciously in your mint green corset. Delectable.
“[+]?” and you hum in response, his face right in yours, his cheeks red as ever, pink lips hovering over yours.
“Uh-huh?”
“I’m gonna to kiss you.”
“O-oh!”
And he softly kisses you, once. And then pulls away. But he can’t help but want- no need to feel your lips on his once more. So he kisses you again. Your eyes shoot open but you melt into him, eyes closing and lazily throwing your arms over his shoulders, deepening the kiss. His beard scratching your face ever to lightly. John pulls you into his lap, capturing your lips in a way that makes you lose yourself. It’s nothing but sweet from the pie John made, that you both indulged in.
“I like you,” John finally admits, with a breathless sigh, “I like you a lot, birdie.”
“Really?” You ask, big eyes widening, utterly shocked, “Since when?”
And he can’t help but laugh, your a ditzy little thing.
His ditzy little thing.
a/n: defeating the writers block and disappointment from earlier with John. Please heal me.
price didn’t mind a woman with some hair (he’s the hairiest man alive why would he?) but he sure did enjoy a girl who liked to be clean shaven. A girl that would lay back and let him do the work.
so that’s how you found yourself here: in the giant bathtub of your dreams he had installed a year prior, sitting on top of price. His knees were up above the warm bubbly water, between your legs to separate them.
he had your little pink razor, the only one you insisted on using even though it was slightly dull.
which is why he had to distract you so he could switch it out for a sharper one, otherwise you would be angry he didn’t shave you properly. And he can’t have that.
and what’s the only way price knows how to distract someone other than in a tactical setting? Pleasure, obviously.
which is how you ended up sprawled out over his lap, his rough calloused fingers pumping into you at a comfortable speed. He had you moaning over his digits and got to shave you? Sounds like a win win.
fingers thrusting into you, you moaning dumbly on just two fingers alone, and prices other hand shaving your legs with a different razor was the perfect combination for a good evening.
and did you think he was going to be finished once your legs were all soft and smooth?
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