simons mask was his safe place. he could hide away from all the world and not have to worry about looking weak. only his mates had seen his face and in that moment he felt exposed. he promised himself from there on he wouldn't show anybody else his face.
well, until you came along. simon bumped into you on a morning run. you were running with your dog by your side. then somehow that ended up with numbers exchanged.
soon it created a relationship. after his deployments he finally had somewhere to return to. he felt wanted for once in his life. he loved seeing the happiness radiate off you when he came home. he loved recieving the hugs you can him and the soft kisses on top of his mask.
you never judged him or forced him to take the mask off. you accepted him the way he was and he couldn't be more grateful.
he thought you hadn't seen his face before but he was wrong. one night when he'd finally come back home, he went straight to bed with you. in the middle on the night he had gotten hot and unconsciously taken off his mask.
in the morning when you woke up you saw his face for the first time. he was scarred up. he didn't have soft clear skin, instead, it was broken and rugged. he didn't look human. his lips had scars, his cheeks had scars, even his forehead had scars.
his lip was cut a bit which left it unable to close all the way. you just stared at him while he slept. his face wasnt considered the most handsome, not with all his scars, and yet, you couldn't help but feel attraction to him.
he hid his face from you for so long, always saying how scary he looked. while yes, he was a bit scary to look at, it didn't take away from the man he was. you loved him even more than you had ever thought possible.
he stirred a bit and you quickly closed your eyes. you felt him pull his mask back on before getting up.
you figured he wouldn't show his face to you, not until he was ready to be vulnerable and open, but you'd wait for that day. you'd wait until that time came because you loved simon riley.
"this doesn't mean anything, right?" your voice was a whisper against simons lips.
this wasnt supposed to happen. you werent supposed to be on your best friends lap, kissing his chapped lips, and yet, somehow you were.
it started off as just a simple hangout between two friends. nothing weird about it. but as the evening went out simons knee kept bumping yours and soon his lips were on yours.
simon didn't say anything when the question left your lips. his eyes were closed, breathing a little bit harshly.
it did mean something. it meant everything to him.
having you in his lap like this meant the world, but he didn't know how to tell you. he didn't know how to confess his feelings. he didn't know how to be vulnerable with you.
your lips were still on his as you waited for his response. you didn't think it'd take this long. you thought he'd say no and your heart would break and then you'd have to move on. you didn't expect hesitation. especially not from him.
simons hands rested on your hips, his fingers gripping onto you tightly. his heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to deny that it meant anything.
"this wasn't..." his voice came out soft. way too soft for someone like him. you'd never heard it that soft before.
he took a deep breath, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.
"this wasn't supposed to happen-" he paused. his head felt dizzy and he could hear how fast his heart was beating. this was too much for him.
instead of answering your question, he just kissed you again.
it was soft, full of emotion. it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. his lips brushed yours in such a tender way, your heart turned to mush.
his hands came up to cup your cheeks, thumb caressing your skin. the kiss went on a bit longer, full of pure emotion.
simons stopped for a second, trying to catch his breath. he felt overwhelmed. he was feeling way too many emotions than he knew how to deal with.
and then a sniffle.
it was quiet, but it was there. you pulled away and saw tears running down his cheeks. his eyes were closed, lashes sticking onto his skin.
you just watched for a second before lifting your hand and wiping the tears off.
"why are you crying?" you whispered. your hand cupped his cheek, tilting his head up just a little.
he didn't open his eyes. his hands fell from your cheeks and landed on your thighs. he didn't respond for a couple minutes, crying softly in your arms.
it felt right. something about this felt like it was meant to be. like he was supposed to show you how broken he truly was and he knew you wouldn't judge him. he knew you'd comfort him, wipe his tears, and tell him how great he really was.
he opened his eyes, meeting yours for the first time since he started crying. they were red, puffy, and still glassy. your heart broke as another tear rolled down his cheek as he looked at you.
"i'm sorry." he whispered. the tips of your mouth twitch and you shake your head. "dont say that. you can cry."
that was all simon needed. he hid himself in your neck and let go of his emotions. it hurt at first, letting his walls crumble down until he was nothing but a vulnerable mess, but the second he felt your arms wrap around him, he knew this was exactly where he needed to be.
he felt the weight on his shoulders disappear. everything was gone in an instant. every negative emotion, every feeling of pain, everything. you healed him and he had no idea how.
he lifted his head from your shoulder and looked at you. he looked so broken, it actually hurt you. you cupped his cheeks and wiped the tears from his eyes.
"you okay?" you whispered while caressing his cheek. he nodded, staring at you like you hung the stars.
he sniffled and then smiled. it was a tiny barely noticeable one, but it still made your heart stop.
"it meant everything." he answered your very first question. that kiss meant everything to him.
he watched as you connected the dots. your eyes widened for a second before wrinkling at the edges as you smiled.
"yeah?" you whispered, hands moving to his nape to play with his hair absentmindedly.
simon closed his eyes and let out a soft hum.
"meant everything and more." his voice was soft again. his arms came up to wrap around your waist. he pulled you closer and kissed the bottom of your chin.
"meant everything to me too." you said, tugging on his hair just a little.
he smiled a little wider. this was where he felt the safest.
with you.
guys idk how i even got here. it was supposed to be just a f2l fic but somehow ended with simon crying idk 😔
hi!! me again. i just wanted to come back after SOMEHOW reading all your works in the span of an hour 😭😭 i love how you write. its so soft, so sweet, captures perfectly the fuzzy feelings that come with being in love (with simon, hehe. i think you reignited my love for him). i cant wait to see what else you have in store :)) ✨
hi again :D omg thats hilarious 😭 thank you! i feel like hes a big softie once he's comfortable enough to show. it definitely takes time but i love writing him as a big soft man :( i have one fic in the drafts but its not ready yet! thank you for making me smile this morning!
(ive never been in love so im so grateful im able to bring that to life even though i havent experienced it yet!)
hello!!! i stumbled onto your page fresh out of a sad cry session and it was exactly what i needed 🥹 i know people have said this before, but its so nice to find a collection of just, pure, soft fluff (as a fluff writer, i too love fluff hehehe). keep up the amazing work dear author ✨
i hope you're feeling better :( im glad to bring some sort of comfort! ive seen people say that all the time and im just glad to be a blog where someone can escape to! thank you so much for your compliments! 🫂
you put the brush down and took a deep breath. you were overwhelmed, the feeling of everything was making your mind overwork. thoughts and feelings were nagging in your chest as you got ready for a date with simon.
dates were important to him. it was time he got to spend with you and take one hundred pictures of you. he had bought tickets to a new movie that had just come out after you begged him to go see it.
you were supposed to be going to that tonight but you suddenly didn't feel like it anymore. you could feel your allergies starting to come in your body, then your period came out of nowhere, and work had been a little too stressful recently. everything was starting to pile up and you kept it to yourself.
you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. you looked tired. completely wrecked.
you stepped out of the restroom and walked to the living room. your hair was a mess and you were still in your pj's.
simon was sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone, just waiting for you. he was ready to go in a hoodie and some jeans. he looked comfy, ready to go watch the movie. he saw you walk in to the living room and frowned. you weren't ready yet and you had twenty minutes before the movie started.
you stood there, fingers playing with the hem on your shirt. you knew how important these dates were to simon and you wished you could push through it but everything was too much.
when your eyes met his he saw tears pool in your eyes. you looked so vulnerable, so exhausted.
"you're not ready? the movie starts in twenty minutes, love. you okay?" his voice was so soft. you could see concern filling his eyes and you broke. tears ran down your cheeks as you tried to be strong but the feeling on letting go was much stronger.
"oh, love, come here." he opened his arms, shifting to make space for you. you ran into his arms, stuffing your face into his shoulder as you cried.
he held you tightly, rubbing your back softly. he let you cry for as long as you needed. his hands were rubbing your back in small patterns to soothe your overwhelmed mind. he kissed your temple softly, lips lingering for a few seconds.
"i'm proud of you." he whispered. he didn't know where it came from. he wasnt used to saying things like that but it felt necessary in that moment.
"i'm so so so proud of you. i love you too, sweetheart. i love you so much."
he felt you go limp in his arms. you stopped crying going completely still in his arms. your whole weight was pressed on him as you just rested against his body. he hands still rubbed your back.
"you okay, pretty?" he whispered softly in your ear. you felt light somehow, like everything was lifted from your shoulders. you pulled away and met his eyes. they were so soft, filled with nothing but love and adoration.
"i'm sorry, si. we're gonna miss the movie." you sniffled quietly, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie.
he just placed his hands on your waist, tugging you closer to him. "i don't care about the movie, you're more important to me. besides, we can always go another time."
he kissed your cheek. you felt him smile against your skin as he tugged you even closer.
"lets just stay here. we have left overs in the fridge and i bought some ice cream too."
you sniffled again and nodded. "'kay."
he hummed and kissed your forehead softly. "i'm always gonna be here, okay? forever. you can lean on me when times get tough."
i had a small breakdown yesterday but im okay now! having someone who can be there for you is the best thing ever
"this doesn't mean anything, right?" your voice was a whisper against simons lips.
this wasnt supposed to happen. you werent supposed to be on your best friends lap, kissing his chapped lips, and yet, somehow you were.
it started off as just a simple hangout between two friends. nothing weird about it. but as the evening went out simons knee kept bumping yours and soon his lips were on yours.
simon didn't say anything when the question left your lips. his eyes were closed, breathing a little bit harshly.
it did mean something. it meant everything to him.
having you in his lap like this meant the world, but he didn't know how to tell you. he didn't know how to confess his feelings. he didn't know how to be vulnerable with you.
your lips were still on his as you waited for his response. you didn't think it'd take this long. you thought he'd say no and your heart would break and then you'd have to move on. you didn't expect hesitation. especially not from him.
simons hands rested on your hips, his fingers gripping onto you tightly. his heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to deny that it meant anything.
"this wasn't..." his voice came out soft. way too soft for someone like him. you'd never heard it that soft before.
he took a deep breath, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.
"this wasn't supposed to happen-" he paused. his head felt dizzy and he could hear how fast his heart was beating. this was too much for him.
instead of answering your question, he just kissed you again.
it was soft, full of emotion. it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. his lips brushed yours in such a tender way, your heart turned to mush.
his hands came up to cup your cheeks, thumb caressing your skin. the kiss went on a bit longer, full of pure emotion.
simons stopped for a second, trying to catch his breath. he felt overwhelmed. he was feeling way too many emotions than he knew how to deal with.
and then a sniffle.
it was quiet, but it was there. you pulled away and saw tears running down his cheeks. his eyes were closed, lashes sticking onto his skin.
you just watched for a second before lifting your hand and wiping the tears off.
"why are you crying?" you whispered. your hand cupped his cheek, tilting his head up just a little.
he didn't open his eyes. his hands fell from your cheeks and landed on your thighs. he didn't respond for a couple minutes, crying softly in your arms.
it felt right. something about this felt like it was meant to be. like he was supposed to show you how broken he truly was and he knew you wouldn't judge him. he knew you'd comfort him, wipe his tears, and tell him how great he really was.
he opened his eyes, meeting yours for the first time since he started crying. they were red, puffy, and still glassy. your heart broke as another tear rolled down his cheek as he looked at you.
"i'm sorry." he whispered. the tips of your mouth twitch and you shake your head. "dont say that. you can cry."
that was all simon needed. he hid himself in your neck and let go of his emotions. it hurt at first, letting his walls crumble down until he was nothing but a vulnerable mess, but the second he felt your arms wrap around him, he knew this was exactly where he needed to be.
he felt the weight on his shoulders disappear. everything was gone in an instant. every negative emotion, every feeling of pain, everything. you healed him and he had no idea how.
he lifted his head from your shoulder and looked at you. he looked so broken, it actually hurt you. you cupped his cheeks and wiped the tears from his eyes.
"you okay?" you whispered while caressing his cheek. he nodded, staring at you like you hung the stars.
he sniffled and then smiled. it was a tiny barely noticeable one, but it still made your heart stop.
"it meant everything." he answered your very first question. that kiss meant everything to him.
he watched as you connected the dots. your eyes widened for a second before wrinkling at the edges as you smiled.
"yeah?" you whispered, hands moving to his nape to play with his hair absentmindedly.
simon closed his eyes and let out a soft hum.
"meant everything and more." his voice was soft again. his arms came up to wrap around your waist. he pulled you closer and kissed the bottom of your chin.
"meant everything to me too." you said, tugging on his hair just a little.
he smiled a little wider. this was where he felt the safest.
with you.
guys idk how i even got here. it was supposed to be just a f2l fic but somehow ended with simon crying idk 😔
Just found ur page and omg, it’s so rare to find only fluff in fics and yours are so fluffy and sweet and i want to cry.
omg thank you 🥹 ive seen people talk about that before and im glad to be somewhere people can go to for fluff! simons is just a sweet boy 🥹 but thank you! it means a lot that people like my fics. and thank you for sending a message 🫂 i enjoy hearing from my readers!
there was nothing more beautiful than seeing you in your most vulnerable state. your hair was a mess, skin broken out, lips crusted, and dark circles. not to mention, you were wear one of simons old tshirts with rips in it.
you were having bad cramps and yet you looked beautiful to simon. he couldn't stop staring at you. he was leaning against the arm rest of the sofa with you between his legs, head on his chest. he was rubbing your back softly.
every time you said something simon would space out.
you looked like home.
a home he could come to when he wasnt feeling well. a home he could find peace in. he could never wait to get home when he left for deployment. you were his peace.
you shined brighter on days like this. your skin had broken out and yet he found you absolutely gorgeous. you were human just like him. perfectly imperfect.
he felt waves of love flood through his whole body as you snuggled into his chest. occasional whimpers leaving your throat as the cramps hurt more and more. and yet all he could see was the love of his life.
he didnt say it often. he never really spoke his love into words but right now he was tempted. you looked so soft, so beautiful, so vulnerable. he cupped your cheeks and tilted your head towards him. his eyes trailed all over your face until he whispered. "you're so gorgeous."
i cant stop writing about cuddling 😔 im touch starved
i am emotional !!! i am trying not to cry right now. like i needed this so badly 😭 oh my goodness !!!! 🥺💕
and these lines? MY HEART😭💛
you shined brighter on days like this. your skin had broken out and yet he found you absolutely gorgeous. you were human just like him. perfectly imperfect.
he felt waves of love flood through his whole body as you snuggled into his chest. occasional whimpers leaving your throat as the cramps hurt more and more. and yet all he could see was the love of his life.
he cupped your cheeks and tilted your head towards him. his eyes trailed all over your face until he whispered. "you're so gorgeous."
omg !? didnt expect to see this but it just made my whole day! the breakdown and everything 🥹 i love you 🫂 i hope you get it one day, you deserve it 🤧🫶🏼
LOOK AT GHOST!TOJI OH MY GAWDDDDD DON'T PLAY WITH MEEEE!!!!! literally humping my pillow from how hot and scrumptious he looks. I'm literally speechless, my pussy is drooling.
your back was turned towards him. it was bare since simon liked to sleep skin to skin. he loved the way your warm skin felt on his. it was a comfort he never knew he needed.
simon felt a bit lonely in bed, even though you were right there. he rolled over to you, hands running over your sides. you woke, mumbling words he couldn’t comprehend. instead, he just pulled you impossibly close.
"too far, dove," he muttered, voice rough but with a hint of softness.
his hands roamed your tummy, making their way up to your ribs and back down. his hands were rough, but the warmth made them feel better.
"need ya close," he whispered against the crown of your ear. he placed a small kiss behind your ear, lips trailing down to your shoulder.
he left out a soft sigh and nuzzled into your neck. his thumb caressed your tummy softly, while he pressed more kisses on your skin. he wrapped his leg over your hips and pulled you even closer, almost trying to meld you into him.
you felt his muscles relax as he found comfort in you. it didn't take long for his breathing to start slowing down, as he fell asleep against your shoulder.
you answer on instinct, heart thudding like a warning—but the moment you hear the low crackle of distant static, your chest eases.
"si?" you whisper, voice thick with sleep.
"told you i'd call."
his voice is gravel, dulled by poor signal and fatigue. but it’s him.
"you okay?"
"fine," he says. it's automatic. a soldier's answer. then quieter, "can't sleep."
you sit up against the headboard, brushing hair from your face. "where are you?"
a silence and then, his answer.
"nowhere good."
he never tells you, not really. you stopped asking a long time ago.
there's a pause. you hear him breathe.
"is she awake?" his question makes you smile for a moment.
"she had a nightmare an hour ago. i rocked her back down, but she’s been babbling since. talking to the ceiling fan, i think.” you explain softly, sitting at the bed.
he huffs something close to a laugh.
"i'll put you on speaker."
in the dim nightlight, your daughter—grace, as he was gifted to call her, lies in her crib, blanket half-kicked off, tiny fists waving at nothing.
simon listens. on the other end of the world, he's crouched in some half-shelled out building, rifle at his side, bone-weary—but when his daughter coos into the line, high and breathy and nonsense-sweet, his eyes close.
"bah-bah. da-da-da-da."
he bites down the ache.
"daa,"she says again, louder, like she knows.
his voice breaks low over the line. "that's me, sweetheart."
as the line keeps up, you smile with your eyes closed. tiny moments, as you called them. tiny moments where simon could feel happy even if he was crossing the whole world.
the clouds covered the sun as you pulled up into your driveway. it was a rainy tuesday. it reflected the way you felt on this unfortunate day.
simon was in your passenger seat, his hands fiddling with his nails. a bandage was wrapped around his head, covering his eyes. a failed mission lead to an explosion which caused the rubble to hit simons eyes. the doctor declared him blind.
the news was hard for simon. he had spent so long serving in the military and now he has to stop, just like that.
the rain started to pour on your windshield again. simon turned his head as if to look out the window but he couldn't see a thing.
he wanted so desperately to see the raindrops again. to see anything.
the rain started coming down harder than before. simon could hear the dropplets hitting his window. he imagined them in his brain but it was no use, imagining and seeing weren't the same thing.
simon tilted his head down, his hand coming to scratch his cheek. "is it raining hard?" his voice was rough, almost as if it hurt him to ask.
"yeah, it's coming down. we'll be in here for a bit." he grunted in acknowledgment. you watched him get comfy in his seat, his hands still fiddling with his nails again.
"will ya make me a tea when we go inside?" his voice was still rough. it had physically hurt simon to ask the most basic questions. he should be able to tell when the rain was coming down hard. he should be able to make his own tea.
he was not used to depending on someone else. yeah, you were his partner, but that didnt mean he depended on you. he was used to depending on himself. he could make his own tea. he could get out a car by himself. he shouldn't need help, and yet, now he does.
he was supposed to be strong, but now all he felt was weakness. he felt like he had let himself down. one little mistake caused such a big punishment, and now he was blind for the rest of his life.
he'd never be able to see the rain. never be able to make his own tea. never be able to see you.
so i was gonna write this as a full fic but motivation said bye and i didnt know what to do with it so im just gonna post it
your back was turned towards him. it was bare since simon liked to sleep skin to skin. he loved the way your warm skin felt on his. it was a comfort he never knew he needed.
simon felt a bit lonely in bed, even though you were right there. he rolled over to you, hands running over your sides. you woke, mumbling words he couldn’t comprehend. instead, he just pulled you impossibly close.
"too far, dove," he muttered, voice rough but with a hint of softness.
his hands roamed your tummy, making their way up to your ribs and back down. his hands were rough, but the warmth made them feel better.
"need ya close," he whispered against the crown of your ear. he placed a small kiss behind your ear, lips trailing down to your shoulder.
he left out a soft sigh and nuzzled into your neck. his thumb caressed your tummy softly, while he pressed more kisses on your skin. he wrapped his leg over your hips and pulled you even closer, almost trying to meld you into him.
you felt his muscles relax as he found comfort in you. it didn't take long for his breathing to start slowing down, as he fell asleep against your shoulder.
there was nothing more beautiful than seeing you in your most vulnerable state. your hair was a mess, skin broken out, lips crusted, and dark circles. not to mention, you were wear one of simons old tshirts with rips in it.
you were having bad cramps and yet you looked beautiful to simon. he couldn't stop staring at you. he was leaning against the arm rest of the sofa with you between his legs, head on his chest. he was rubbing your back softly.
every time you said something simon would space out.
you looked like home.
a home he could come to when he wasnt feeling well. a home he could find peace in. he could never wait to get home when he left for deployment. you were his peace.
you shined brighter on days like this. your skin had broken out and yet he found you absolutely gorgeous. you were human just like him. perfectly imperfect.
he felt waves of love flood through his whole body as you snuggled into his chest. occasional whimpers leaving your throat as the cramps hurt more and more. and yet all he could see was the love of his life.
he didnt say it often. he never really spoke his love into words but right now he was tempted. you looked so soft, so beautiful, so vulnerable. he cupped your cheeks and tilted your head towards him. his eyes trailed all over your face until he whispered. "you're so gorgeous."
i cant stop writing about cuddling 😔 im touch starved
Pairing: John Price x reader
Word count: +1,9k
Content: humour | fluff(ish) | reader and John are married | reader is 141 member | dude who doesn’t speak in ‘no’
Warnings: language, bad English (as a non-native I'll always be sorry for that).
Summary: New batch of soldiers came to the base, and one stubborn keep hitting on you like word ‘no’ is a foreign to him. Then he got a ‘brilliant’ idea to ask your CO for permission to date you.
A/N: Well, I wrote one where some woman was hitting on John, so now it’s time for reader become a target, and John has to straighten things up. I wrote this few days before "Classified Missus" but kept changing it every time I opened MS. I think it's enough... Considering my English, probably it's still shit as hell. Sorry!
──────────
Everyone in 141 knew about you and Price—obviously since you two got married few months back. The whole squad was there, along with a few of your family members. No one else. You didn’t need a big party to celebrate your marriage—and honestly, you didn’t want one. Not the show. Not the crowd. Especially not for people neither of you cared about.
You kept it your secret and wanted to maintain it as such as long as it was possible. So, when it was just the five of you tucked away in the private barracks only you had access to, you were John and Y/N. No ranks. No protocol. But once you stepped outside the rec room and back onto base, he was the captain, and you were the sergeant.
Unfortunately, secrecy comes with a price.
Soldiers on base would turn their heads as you passed. Whistles. Catcalls. You let it roll off like water on steel—cool as a cucumber. Eventually, you knew you’ll earn a reputation—cold, stand-offish. Maybe they’ll think you are a bitch. Maybe they’ll whisper you swing the other way. Either way, fine by you. If it made them leave you alone, you’ll welcome the assumptions.
Things began to settle—slowly. But every time reinforcements were rotated in from another base, the cycle started all over again. And eventually, you learned to live with it.
──────────
The new batch of soldiers had a very specific brand of stubborn when it came to you. Every time you stepped out of the private barracks, they found you. Like they were waiting. Fucking bloodhounds chasing a fox.
Naturally, most of their crap came when you were alone.
But sometimes—like today—you had company.
The base had just rotated in fresh units. Fresh boots. Fresh egos. You were walking back from the range with Gaz—sleeves rolled, rifle slung across your chest, boots kicking up dry concrete—when two of them passed and immediately slowed.
“Damn,” one muttered loud enough to catch your ear. “Didn’t know the range came with eye candy.”
The other chuckled, and looked at your nametag, “Sarge Y/L/N, right? You single?”
“No,” you answered, flat and sharp. No warmth. No pause. No smile. You kept walking, treating them like shadows on the wall.
“Come on…” one started, reaching for the usual charm—
Gaz cut in, eyes forward, voice cool. “She said no. Which part don’t you understand?”
The soldiers stalled and you and Gaz didn’t spare them a single glance.
“You gonna tell Price?” he asked after a beat.
“Tell him what? That someone tried to flirt?” You adjusted your sling with quiet, deadly grace. “He’ll ask why I left the guy breathing.”
Gaz snorted. “Fair point.” Then, under his breathe he added: “Poor bastard doesn’t know he’s flirting with an apex predator.”
You smirked. “I’m a very sweet girl, and you know it.”
That broke him. Gaz let out a laugh so loud, so unapologetic, it echoed down the corridor like thunder.
──────────
Same bastard. Same smirk. Same overinflated sense of self-worth.
This time, it was the mess hall. Early lunch. You and Soap had just wrapped a morning of drills and debriefs—sweaty, half-starved, and too damn tired to play nice.
You slid onto one of the long steel benches, tray in hand, already eyeing the sad excuse for mashed potatoes, when you heard it:
“Well, if it isn’t the prettiest sergeant on base.”
Without missing a beat, Soap chirped, “Aw, cheers, pal—but ye’re no’ my type. Bit too much dick for me.”
You snorted.
Soap blinked slow, grin stretching wide—feral.
“She’s taken, mate,” he said, tone still light, but sharp as a blade. “So, unless ye fancy a busted nose—jog on, aye?”
The soldier shrugged, still cocky. “I don’t see a ring.”
Soap laughed, but it wasn’t amusement—it was warning. “That’s ‘cause the lad she’s with doesn’t need one. Loyalty’s not somethin’ she needs reminding of.”
You stabbed your fork into the potatoes. “If I had a quid for every guy on this base who thought I was up for grabs, I’d have my own damn armoury by now.”
The soldier smirked. “You’ve got bite. I like that.”
Soap leaned back with a whistle. “She’s got bite an’ aim, mate. Ye keep pushin’, you’ll end up as a cautionary tale.”
You finally turned in your seat, cool and steady. “I don’t date.”
He chuckled, as if you’d flirted back. “Hey, I’m charming. You’ll cave eventually.”
Soap scoffed. “Aye, right. And I’m the bloody Queen o’ England.”
The guy shrugged, strutted off—still tossed you a wink on the way out. You didn’t return it.
There was a beat of silence before Soap leaned closer, muttering over a bite of sad-looking mash, “Swear tae God, are they pumpin’ pheromones into the bloody air ducts now?”
You sighed. “That’s the fourth one this week. Did I miss the mass women extinction event?”
Soap snorted. “Can’t wait to tell Price about this one.”
“Don’t,” you said calmly. „No need.”
──────────
The weight room was mostly empty. Clanging metal and the low hum of ventilation were the only sounds. You’d just finished your training, sweat cooling against your skin, muscles quietly throbbing.
Nearby, Ghost was packing up—methodical and silent, folding gear with practiced ease.
A voice sliced through the quiet: smooth, cocky, familiar. “Well, well, Sergeant. Fancy seeing you here. Must be fate.”
You didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. Just focused on tightening your boot laces.
Ghost didn’t glance up, didn’t pause. His voice was low and clipped. “Fuck off.”
The soldier blinked, then looked at you with that same irritating smile.
You straightened slowly, turning just enough to meet his gaze. “You heard my Lt.”
His smirk widened, like he’d earned some twisted badge of honour. “Till next time,” he offered, with a casual nod—and walked away still grinning, like he’d won something.
──────────
The mess hall was packed. Midday rush in full swing—trays clattering, boots thudding, the sharp sting of burnt coffee slicing through the haze of overcooked meat. You and the rest of 141 were wrapping up lunch, empty trays in hand, weaving through tables toward the return line.
A rare lull. A sit-down meal with questionable mash and Soap swearing a wild haggis once chased him across the moors. You were mid-snort at Ghost’s deadpan, “Drop what you takin’, Johnny. Or take half,” when Soap’s expression changed. His steps slowed, tray tilted in one hand, mouth tugging between dread and amusement.
You arched a brow. “What now? Another haggis sighting?”
Soap didn’t answer. Just jerked his chin toward the far end of the mess line.
And there he was.
Same bloody soldier. Same cocky grin. Same swagger that belonged on a recruitment poster. This time, no sidelong glances or low remarks—he was marching straight toward your group. You followed his line of sight—and watched, dumbfounded, as he walked right to John. He stopped in front of him, stiff posture, eyes locked on your Captain like he was about to challenge him to single combat.
You stared. “He’s not—”
“Jesus wept—he is,” Soap confirmed gleefully.
The guy cleared his throat. Too loud. Too formal. “Sir,” he began, addressing John with a respectful nod. “Permission to ask your sergeant out.”
“Which one?” John asked, amused, glancing at the rest of you with calculated ease. “I’ve got three.”
The soldier relaxed slightly, cracking a smile.
“The cute one.”
Gaz blinked hard. Ghost muttered, lethal and low, “Fucking moron.”
“Told you I’m not into you,” Soap snorted, half-joking—but no one listened.
Price didn’t blink. Arms folded. Jaw tight. Eyes narrow—debriefing sharp. “Why ask me and not her?”
“I did,” the soldier replied, puffing up like a rooster. “Got turned down. Figured maybe it’s orders—fraternization and all. She’s persistent. Figured I’d clear it proper.”
“Persistent?” you echoed, voice like steel. Head tilted. “You think that’s code for ‘try harder?’”
Soap made a strangled noise—half laugh, half dying cough. “God, yer confidence is bulletproof.”
Price’s tone dropped low. Calm, dangerous. “And what makes you think I’ll grant permission?”
The soldier swallowed. “I thought maybe she’s scared to step outta line, sir.”
You snorted and said sarcastically, “Yeah. That sounds like me.”
Ghost muttered, “Textbook rule-follower.”
Price’s jaw shifted slightly, teeth clicking together once. “She isn’t afraid of breaking rules.” He stepped forward—just enough to shrink the distance between them, his shadow catching the edge of the soldier’s boots. “But she is taken.”
The soldier frowned. “I’ve heard,” he admitted. “But I figured that was just her way of playin’ unavailable.”
Soap clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle another laugh. Gaz looked like he wanted to crawl under the table from second-hand embarrassment.
Price’s slow, dangerous grin appeared—the one you’d seen before a kneecap-shot interrogation. “She told you she’s taken.” He took one step. “And you still insisted?”
“Yes, sir,” the guy nodded, bold as ever. “Firecracker like her is worth the fight.”
A beat passed.
Then came the flash in Price’s eyes. That territorial glint. “Yeah,” he said, voice like gravel and flame, “my wife is a real spitfire.”
For a heartbeat, the mess hall fell into stunned silence. A dropped spoon clattered to the floor. Someone audibly gasped. Every nearby table stopped pretending they weren’t listening.
“...Sir?” the poor guy croaked.
Price tilted his head, that smile never reaching his eyes. “Still feel like fighting for her?”
“No, sir. My mistake, sir. I just… her name tag says Y/L/N, and…”
You stepped forward, voice clipped and professional. “We were keeping our personal life private.”
Soap exploded with laughter. “We told ye, mate. Should’ve listened.”
Gaz shook his head, letting out a low whistle. “Askin’ captain for permission to date his missus? That’s just… tragic.”
The soldier—finally realising how deeply he’d fucked up—slunk off, disappearing into the crowd.
Price turned toward you slowly, his expression softening as his eyes met yours. The hard line of his jaw eased, and one brow lifted in teasing challenge. “How many’ve thrown themselves at you before this genius?”
You didn’t even pause. “A few.”
Gaz snorted. “Half the bloody base.”
Ghost added flatly, “More like the whole damned place.”
Price stepped closer, crowding into your space, squad still around, the entire mess hall still watching. He slid a hand to your waist like it belonged there, like it always had, with the quiet confidence of someone who’d done it a hundred times in private—but this time, in full view of everyone.
Then he kissed you.
Slow. Sure. No hesitation.
Not a show—but a message.
The kind of kiss that said mine without a single word.
When he pulled back, he didn’t look at anyone else—just you. You grinned, tilting your head. “Making a statement, are we?”
His grin widened. “Wasn’t a statement, love. That was a warning.” Voice low, eyes gleaming. “I’m takin’ you home early today. And starting now, you’re wearing your wedding ring.”
You smirked. “So do you.”
And then—like declaring it once wasn’t enough, like just saying ‘my wife’ and kissing you didn’t scratch the itch of possession—he reached for your Velcro name tag. With one smooth motion, he tore it clean off your uniform.
Everyone watching froze.
Price pulled his own tag from his chest and pressed it into place on yours. Firm. Final.
You arched a brow, lips twitching. “Smooth,” you said with a laugh.
He leaned close, voice a murmur only for you. “Mine.”
Ghost, still unfazed, muttered “Domestic. Makes me sick.”
Gaz laughed. “No one on this base will come near her now. Not even with a ten-foot pole.” And he was right. After that moment— No flirting. No approaches. Not even a stare.
They all knew, whole base.
You weren’t just part of 141. You were Captain Price’s wife.
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