Okay so you know thigh grabbing as a sensual/sexual thing, but also you know like gently squeezing someone's lower leg or knee when you're sitting next to them and you can tell their nervous (ppl your close with obviously)
So...
When you're in meetings with the team and Price is droning on about some mission that you'll have to go on soon, Ghost is sitting next to you, and you start shaking your legs with anxious energy, energy to go workout or run or shoot or stab something, and Ghost picks up on it and attempts to help by placing his hand (Pretty high up) on your thigh and squeezing and then LEAVING IT THERE, and he genuinely thinks he's helping! And is just trying to help you regulate because you do stop shaking your leg, but what he doesn't know is that it's actually just making you really horny and giving you more energy to go get out
Ghost who continues to do this on meeting after meeting, just keeps teasing you and making you run to your barracks afterwards to cum moaning his name
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The early morning sun was still barely up when you entered the sleek, sterile building of the military base. You had just been hired for a highly sought-after role: Assistant to Captain John Price, a decorated leader known for his no-nonsense approach. Despite your nerves, you knew this was an opportunity of a lifetime. The base was a towering structure of steel and stone, with the faint hum of machinery and the constant buzz of soldiers moving in and out.
You’d spent days preparing for this job. The briefings, the paperwork, the extensive background checks—everything had been meticulously planned. Your job would involve more than just taking notes; you would be assisting Price in complex operations, liaising between the command and the field, coordinating intel, and keeping him organized. You’d heard plenty about Captain Price, but the man himself? He was a mystery wrapped in a gruff exterior.
As you walked through the base’s corridors, you could feel the tension in the air. Soldiers came and went, some offering quick nods of acknowledgment. Your heart raced as you neared the office that belonged to Captain Price. You could almost hear the weight of his presence before you even knocked.
*Knock, knock.*
"Enter."
His voice was deep, steady, but there was an edge to it that made your pulse quicken. You opened the door slowly, stepping inside. His office was sparse—just a large wooden desk, maps scattered on the walls, and a few pieces of military memorabilia. But it was the man sitting behind the desk that made your breath catch.
Captain John Price was as imposing as they said. A grizzled veteran with a salt-and-pepper beard, intense blue eyes that seemed to see right through you, and a posture that screamed authority. He didn’t smile when he looked up, but his eyes briefly scanned you—sharp, calculating.
"You must be the new assistant," he said, his voice low and commanding.
"Yes, sir," you replied, standing a little straighter. "I’m [Your Name], reporting for duty."
"Good," he muttered, giving you a quick nod. "I don’t have time for pleasantries. Sit." He gestured to the chair across from him.
You sat down quickly, placing the folder with your credentials on the desk. He didn’t take it immediately, instead locking eyes with you as if evaluating whether you were fit for the role. The silence stretched on for a few moments, making the air feel thick with anticipation.
"I need someone I can rely on," Price finally spoke, breaking the tension. "The kind of person who can keep up with me, anticipate my needs before I even say them. You’ll be handling sensitive material, liaising with military personnel, organizing schedules. And you’ll do it without making a single mistake. Understood?"
"Understood, sir," you said firmly, trying to project confidence.
He studied you for a moment, then grunted, clearly satisfied with your response. "Good. Now, let’s get to work."
---
The days that followed were a whirlwind. You quickly learned that Captain Price’s demands were intense—constant briefings, countless documents to sift through, coordinating meetings with high-ranking officials, and keeping track of intel that could shift in a moment’s notice. Yet, despite the pressure, you never felt like you were alone in this. Price, for all his gruffness, didn’t micromanage. He trusted you, and that was something that quickly became evident.
It was also clear that Captain Price was a man who led with discipline. His actions spoke louder than any words, and his soldiers respected him deeply. His presence was commanding, his every move purposeful. But there was a certain warmth to him that few people saw. It was in the way he subtly checked on you when things got overwhelming or the way he made sure you were safe after late nights working in the field.
One particularly late night, after a long briefing on an upcoming mission, you found yourself staying late to finish some last-minute paperwork. You were too tired to think straight, rubbing your eyes when the door to the office creaked open.
"Everything alright, [Your Name]?" Price’s voice was softer than usual, his posture relaxed as he stood in the doorway.
You didn’t expect the concern in his tone. It caught you off guard, and you blinked up at him. "Just… a lot to do, sir."
He stepped into the office, walking over to your desk with a slight tilt of his head. "I don’t like seeing you work so late. You’ll burn yourself out."
"I’m fine, really," you replied, though you could hear the fatigue in your voice.
He leaned against the edge of your desk, looking down at the documents you were working on. His eyes flicked to your tired face, then back to the papers. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again.
"I don’t need you making mistakes because you’re overworked," he said, a firm but understanding edge to his voice. "Go home. Rest. I’ll finish up here."
You glanced up, startled by the rare gesture of kindness. "But, sir…"
"No arguments," he cut you off, his tone gentle but firm. "You’re not a robot, and I need you at your best. Go get some sleep."
You hesitated for a moment before nodding, your heart inexplicably lightened by his words. "Thank you, sir."
"Don’t mention it," he said, offering you a brief, almost imperceptible smile before he turned and walked back toward his own desk. The rare smile left you with a flutter in your chest.
---
As the weeks passed, your dynamic with Captain Price began to shift. There were moments when the two of you would work quietly together, your hands brushing as you passed him a folder, or when he would glance over your shoulder, his presence unexpectedly close. You quickly realized that, despite the outward professionalism, there was something unspoken between the two of you—an understanding, a silent bond forged in the intensity of the work you both did.
One evening, as you were preparing for yet another late shift, you found yourself unexpectedly alone with Captain Price in the office. He was leaning back in his chair, staring at a report.
"Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve been impressive," he said quietly, his voice softer than usual.
You blinked, not expecting praise. "Thank you, sir."
He looked up, meeting your gaze. "I don’t say that often. Most people don’t keep up with me. But you… you do."
You felt a rush of warmth at the compliment, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t the first time he’d acknowledged your work, but it felt different this time, more personal.
He leaned forward slightly, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "You’re doing good work, [Your Name]. I appreciate it."
The air between you thickened, a weighty silence falling. You could feel the unspoken words lingering, neither of you willing to cross the line between professionalism and something more. But in that moment, you realized one thing: You had earned the respect of Captain Price.
And maybe, just maybe, there was more to your partnership than either of you had expected.
---
As days turned into weeks, your bond with Captain Price only deepened. There were moments of quiet support, of shared glances, of conversations that went beyond work. You knew your role well, but you also knew that with each passing day, you were becoming an essential part of his world.
And though the lines between boss and assistant were clear, the connection you shared hinted at something more—something neither of you had yet dared to acknowledge fully.
But in the world of military operations, nothing was ever straightforward. And as you looked at Captain Price, standing tall and composed in his office, you couldn't help but wonder where this delicate balance between duty and something deeper would lead.
I just had a random ass thought. I'm blaming @crashingcryptid for it, I've fallen down the wedgie kink hole.
So I just discovered I've been giving myself wedgies unknowingly for, basically, forever at this point. On occasion I find a smaller pair of underwear that I need to stretch out, and the best way I've found to do that is simply to give myself a wedgie 😭
So I present to you, a messy and not fully fleshed out blurb-
I can so vividly see it, I kid you not- the guys either catch or hear reader stretching out some of their underwear that either shrunk in the wash, or just a pair they picked up at the closest store thinking they were the right size, while muttering underneath their breath. And bam- light bulb moment. Full clarity. The guys see an opening and they take it. From then on reader starts to notice their underwear starting to shrink during the wash more often than usual- so often that reader starts to get sick and tired, just for the guys to swoop in and save the day. Way more than happy to help lend a hand in stretching their underwear to size- and would you look at that, now it's a daily occurrence, to the point they guys are nearly fighting each other to be the first to get to reader.
Idk- this has been running circles in my head for the past hour, send help. Not fully fleshed out, also my first blurb, give me grace pls 😭 ✋🏽
Scrolling Pinterest and I saw this writing thing about power signaling, one was non-verbal threats
Well why don't we consider Ghost almost always having his hand on his tactical belt or gun/knife when you see him.. everyone thinks it's a threat that he's warning you because he only does it around you but what they don't know is that Ghost just needs something to grip and hold onto to stop himself from grabbing you and taking what he wants, and you? You think it's a threat just like everyone else but instead of being scared it just turns you on, his hand always finds his weapon or his belt and you can't help but follow it with your eyes and hope for the day that his hand finds your neck instead..
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It randomly popped up in my head earlier today. I can't remember too much besides reader moving into her aunts(?) house. Things are fine for a while until something breaks down and her aunt recommends Johnny to fix it, in exchange reader sleeps with Johnny.
