The Task Force 141 are being honored at a gala, an event that's too glitzy, too long and too peopley for your dear husband Simon. But you drag him along anyway, and end up having to fend off wandering strays.
Warnings: Alcohol, female reader, ghost and reader are horny but nothing explicit jealous reader, language, slightly bossy reader, violence but not really (self defense if anything das it I think if I missed anything lmk
My first fic, woooooooooo!! Hope you like it :)
“Luvie, we have to leave in five minutes, surely it doesn’t take more than ten to put on a bloody dress.” Simon calls from the living room, where you had banished him.
“Calm down, Simon I’m almost done.” You respond from your shared bedroom.
“You said that 20 minutes ago.” Simon mumbled.
“You want me to hurry up, you can come in here and help me.”
“You told me to stay out.”
“Exactly, so be fucking patient.”
Simon sighed and slumped back down on the couch.
You’ve taken up the majority of the space in your shared bedroom and connecting bathroom for nearly three hours, counter laden with hair products, make up and perfumes in preparation for tonight.
The 141 was being honored for their bravery and sacrifice at a high end gala. And because Y/N and her husband Simon were members who’ve repeatedly put their lives on the line to save others, they were expected to attend.
When they received the elaborate invitation in the mail, Simon’s first instinct was to chuck in the garbage bin and never give it a second thought. But Price had followed up the invitation with a phone call to you both, but mainly for Simon, about “not disappointing the public” and “upholding the team’s loyalty to the country”. It wasn’t an order, but it sure as hell wasn’t a suggestion either.
So here was Simon, stuffed in a tuxedo that barely fit across his broad chest and swollen biceps, already stuffy from the humid evening. He’s been in much cumbersome and heavier tactical uniforms than this suit, but for some reason this was much worse. Maybe it was how out of his element he felt.
Simon was a soldier first and a man second. As sad as it may sound, he feels most at home in the barracks with his team, barking orders and dodging bullets. He wasn’t meant for mingling and sipping champagne in a bowtie. Hell, he can barely socialize in much less formal settings.
The plan was to get there early enough so people could see him arrive, then leave when things got rowdy enough to slip away undetected.
But as Simon watched the hands on the living room clock tick later and later with his wife still pampering away, he grew more and more restless.
He went back to the bedroom door and started shouting. “Y/N, if you don’t come out now, I’m leavin’ without you.”
You yell back to him, “What’s the rush? You don’t even wanna go!”
“I don’t but I sure as hell don’t want Price on my ass for bein’ late either, so can we get a move on, please!”
“Price can answer to me if he gives us shit about being late.”
Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look, luv, I don’t want to be out for longer than we have to, Price will make us stay longer if we don’t show up on time, so can you–”
You step out of the bedroom before Simon can finish his sentence dawned in your dress for the evening. It was a strapless navy blue gown, bedazzled with crystals. It hugged your torso but draped at the waist leaving your collarbone on full display also decorated with jewels. Just beneath the skirt were heels so dark blue they looked black in the dull light of the house. Your hair was done perfect and your lips were painted a dark cherry red that matched your nails.
You posed for Simon. “You can’t rush beauty like this, Simon.”
As you stood in the hallway and posed and gestured to yourself, Simon stood and watched slackjawed. You looked stunning.
You chuckled. “You were yelling at me for an hour and now you have nothing to say?”
Simon finally approaches you and wraps his arms around your waist. “You look absolutely gorgeous, darlin’.” He’s breathless, as if he just ran 10 miles as opposed to sitting in the living room for thirty minutes.
You laugh again and look at him through your curled lashes. “Why, thank you. You clean up quite nicely yourself, lieutenant." Your hands settle on his chest.
Simon smirks and leans in closer, his face inches from yours. “Yeah?”
“Yea–heeyy nononono” You pull away just before his lips touch yours. “You’re gonna mess up my lipstick, and then you’ll end up wearing it, too.”
Simon leans in again. “You can put some more on.”
You lean away again. “Then we’ll really be late.”
Simon leans in again. “I’ll put it on for you.”
You lean away again and snort. “Like you know shit about applying make up.”
Simon leans in for the fourth time. “You can show me how.”
“I said noooo.” You push Simon away lightly and he looks damn near heart broken. “I spent this long getting ready, which you’ve been giving me crap for, by the way. Let’s go now before we’re actually late.”
Simon makes no move to let you go, in fact, he moves his hand to your cheek and begins moving in again.
You dodge him and lean close to his ear, speaking lowly. “You’ll have plenty of time to ruin more than just my make up when we get home.”
You feel more than just Simon’s arms stiffen and use this distraction to slip out of his hold. “I’m gonna wait in the car.” you say, all of the seduction in your voice gone and replaced with innocence.
You grab your clutch and scurry away leaving a stunned Simon alone in the hallway. This was gonna be a long bloody night.
The gala was just as elaborate as the invitation made it seem. The venue was an elegant ballroom, with shiny floors and a chandelier bathing the room in a warm light. Smooth jazz added to the ambiance to create a warm, welcoming atmosphere that made everyone loose and relaxed.
Everyone except your dear husband.
While you let Price lead you through the crowd, introducing and reintroducing you to some of the most important people in his career, Ghost kept his back against the wall, shoulders stiff, hands in his pockets. He was wearing a face mask, so all that was seen was his eyes. He was staring at you, gaze intense and unnerving from a stranger’s point of view, but you knew Simon was just pouting at you.
You’ve been teasing him at home and in the car, leaving his feelings hurt and balls blue, which is why this big baby was perched in the corner watching these people trip over themselves to get a glimpse of you.
But you were here to have fun, and teasing Simon was part of the fun, so you left him to his little tantrum and joined Price on the ballroom floor.
After what felt like meeting over a thousand people in an hour, your feet and social battery were screaming for a break. So you excused yourself to the bar. You’d need a chair and some liquid courage to survive more than an hour of “networking”.
When you were settled at the bar nursing your drink of choice, you looked to the wall to check on Simon. He was still there, still gazing at you. You would think he was an assassin the way he was practically stalking you, but you just like to think of him as your personal body guard.
You wave at him, nails glittering in the ambient light. He nods his head once in reply and stands up a little straighter. As much as you like teasing him, you are starting to miss him, so you gesture to your drink, an invitation hanging in the air waiting for him to accept.
But before he can, you hear Price call your name and approach you.
“There's someone else I want you to meet.” Price says, two women at his side.
When you look back his way, Simon's sunk back against the wall again, gaze ever present, and just as intense.
Price follows your gaze and frowns. “Is he behaving, or will I have to talk some sense into him man to man?”
“No, no, he's fine. He's just sulking because he'd rather be home with a warm beer instead of some of the most expensive whiskey known to man for free.”
Price shakes his head. “Lad's missin’out, that's for sure. He’ll be sorry once Johnny chugs it all.””
“Maybe Ghost’ll start a fight with him, just to give himself something to do.”
“Then I’ll keep both of their asses here after the party to clean up the mess.”
You laugh. “I would love to see that. I can already picture those two sulking with a mop and bucket.”
“Wouldn’t be the most humiliating situation I’ve ever put them in.”
The first woman finally chimes in. “I’d hate to imagine what that could possibly be.”
You smile as the woman. “Let’s just say it involved one too many paintball shots to the back.” You gesture to the woman’s outfit, a simple yet well tailored black suit. “You look very nice, Chief Laswell. A great change of pace from the puffer vest.”
The woman next laughed. “That’s what I told her.” She sticks out her hand. “I’m Kendell, Kate’s wife. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
You shake Kendell’s hand “Ooh, lord. Only good things I hope.”
“Only the best things. I’ve had to listen to her sing you guys praises for months after she came back.”
“On behalf of entire Task Force 141, I apologize.”
“No need, I’m just grateful she was taken care of.”
“I think it was the other way around, there’s no way we can get our jobs done without Chief on our side.”
“Don’t get her too much credit, Y/N, it’ll get to her head,” says Price.
“Rather give her the ego boost than you, captain,” you reply
“After everything I’ve done for you, soldier?”
“After a million drills and gun training in rain, sleet and snow, absolutely.”
“As much as I miss hearing you two’s little scraps,” Laswell interjects, “there’s more people I want to catch up with.”
“I’m going to stay here for a bit if you two don’t mind,” Kendall says. “I believe now’s a great time for a cocktail break.”
“Sure hon,” replies Laswell. “I’ll catch up with you later.” She turns to you. “Keep her company for me, will ya, Y/N?”
Kendall orders her drink while Laswell and Price disappear back into the crowd.
Kendall turns to you. “I hope you don’t mind, bouncing around from person to person with no drink was wearing me out faster than I thought.”
“It’s no problem, I completely understand.”
“Thank god for the free drinks, right?”
“Absolutely, one of the many perks of being associated with the 141.”
“I should join, free drinks for life!”
“I wouldn’t get too eager, they’re probably just buttering us up to get us to accept some outlandish mission in the middle of nowhere.”
“What? So this is all just a bribe?”
“It would make sense. Price loves seeing us miserable so I wouldn’t be surprised if he stopped the party to drop a literal bomb on us.”
Kendell lets out an airy chuckle, her smile fading. She absently traces the rim of her glass.
You try to steer the conversation away from bombs. “How long have you and Kate been together?”
Her smile returns. “Thirteen years, we’ll be married for ten next month.”
“Aww, congratulations! Have anything special planned?”
“I kinda wanted to go all out with a big party and dancing and streamers and all that, but I kind of want to just, do nothing? With her.”
“Yeah, just the two of us. Our anniversary is supposed to be about us, so I just want it to be us. Is that too cheesy?”
“No, not cheesy at all. A lot of people miss the point of anniversaries with the big celebrations, it’s supposed to be about your love for each other. An intimate date like you said will keep your love front and center.”
Kendall’s smile widens. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. I’m excited for it, it’s been a while since I’ve had a few days with her to myself.” Her smile fades again and she resumes fidgeting.
“She’ll love the date, Kendall. She’ll love it no matter what you had planned.”
“I know…” she trails off.
Kendall hesitates, then turns to you. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
You sip your drink. “All depends on the question.”
“How do you…cope with… y’know…the job?”
“I mean, maybe it’s easier for you since you and your husband are soldiers, but…she’s gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time without hearing or seeing her, and there’s only so much assuming that she’s still alive can do to ease my anxiety… How do you cope with it? Not knowing for certain you’ll ever see your husband again, or if he’ll even come back the same as before?”
She’s staring at you silently demanding an answer.
You hesitate, genuinely at a loss for an answer. “Heh…and here I thought Price was gonna drop a bomb on me.”
Kendell sits back and sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that on you.” She’s fidgeting with the glass again. “This has been on my mind for a while, and I really don’t have anyone to talk to about it. None of my friends really understand what my life is like.”
“It’s OK, really. And trust me, I know exactly how you feel.”
“I figured you would. How do you deal with these feelings? Does it keep you up at night? How do you know he’ll ever come back?”
You pause for a bit, it is a legitimate question, one you’ve sort of been avoiding thinking about. But you can remember a time you’ve felt that anxious about Simon.
Simon was sent on a solo mission. It was supposed to be in and out, take out the target and leave; nothing Ghost hasn’t handled before. But the target put up more of a fight than expected. He damn near killed Ghost, left him with two stab wounds in his torso and at least four broken ribs. You rushed to the hospital to see him, expecting the worst. When you got to his room, he was sitting up in bed, torso wrapped in bandages, sipping water, as calm as can be.
You asked him if he was ok, if he was still hurting, if he needed anything. He only replied in one word answers. “Yup.” “Yup.” “You.”
When you were adjusting his sheets and absent mindedly muttered how the hell he got back alive, you weren’t expecting an answer.
“You was waitin’ fer me.”
His answer was so simple yet so sincere there was no room for doubt. Of course that’s why he fought tooth and nail to get that target off of him. Of course that’s why he double, triple, quadruple checks his weapons are working properly before a mission. Of course that’s why the first person he tells about a successful mission is you.
You’re the thing he’s fighting for, the thing motivating him to get home after every job in one piece.
“Because he loves me.” you finally say.
Kendall’s eyebrow twitches up.
“I know Simon will fight to get back home to see me and there’s no doubt in my mind that Laswell feels the exact same way about you.”
Kendall’s expression shifts to something softer.
“She fights to see you every day. She fights to make sure you get to live happily and in safety. You’re her motivation because she loves you, so you can be sure she’ll come home after every job to see the love of her life.”
Kendall smiles softly. “I think I needed to hear that.”
“It’s good to be reminded of that every once in a while. I know of course it won’t completely stop the worry, but it’s more bearable to deal with when you know she misses you just as much.”
“You’re right,” Kendall takes a deep breath and smiles at you. “Thank you, Y/N.”
“No problem.” You point to her nearly empty glass. “You want to get another? You seem like you need it.”
Kendall chuckles and nods. “I think I do. I came here to try to relax, I didn’t mean to get so caught up in my feelings.”
You signal to the bartender for a refill. “If we try to leave feelings behind, they’ll catch up with us eventually.”
“True, but I just want to chill tonight, meet some people, maybe get drunk.”
You laugh. “That’s valid, too.”
“Kate told me about you and Simon. She was right about how much you care about each other.”
You chuckle bashfully. “Yeah, well, I don’t think he’s very happy with me right now.”
Kendall laughs. “Is that why he’s not–” Kendall cuts herself off as she looks in Simon’s direction, her face riddled with suspicion.
You look confused and follow her gaze. There’s a woman talking to Simon.
Not only was she talking to Simon, but she was blatantly flirting with him, swishing her hair and batting her lashes.
“Is she crazy?” Kendall asked after watching the woman for a bit.
“Obviously.” You say curtly. She has to be.
You see Simon nod at you and the woman turns to look at you. You stare back behind your glass, challenging.
She looks at you with disgust and turns back to Simon.
You finish off the rest of your drink then turn to Kendell. “You’ll have to excuse me, I have a have a bitch to drag.”
Simon kept his eyes on you all night. What else was he supposed to do? Socialize? No thank you. You and Price were the only reason he's even here, he wasn’t obligated to participate in any activities for the night. So he continued doing what he's good at: watching.
He watched Laswell and his wife slow dance to the band close to the stage. He watched Vargas order tequila shots for the rest of the 141. He also watched a woman watching him.
He’s used to being stared at. The mask, his stature and his build attracts attention in everyday circumstances like this one. But he’s also used to people immediately looking away when he stares back. Most get the point that he’s not the type for small talk. So those here who didn’t know him went out of their way to avoid him completely. Not this bitch, apparently.
In fact, she grinned at him, nose scrunching and eyelashes fluttering; quite the contrast from the embarrassment and fear people usually display when Simon returns their gaze.
Simon decided he was done watching everyone else and went to look for the most important thing he should be looking at: you. He watched Price drag you to and fro to meet all these people he considered to be important. He watched as your dress swished with each step you took. Watched as the gems decorating your collarbone glistened under the light of the chandelier. He watched your red lips move with every word and he watched everybody slowly become obsessed with you. Because how could they not? You were brilliant and charming and beautiful.
He watched as you finally settled at the bar after standing for almost an hour. He watched as Price, Laswell and her wife approached you and Laswell's wife settle down at the bar with you. He watched as you talked for a bit, happy to just observe you enjoying yourself, until he felt two hands grip his arm.
“Hi, handsome, I saw you looking at me.”
Simon looked down. It was the woman who grinned at him. Simon moved his arm from her grasp and continued watching the crowd.
She leans against the wall and looks up at Simon through her lashes. “You’re a quiet one, aren’t you? That’s OK, I’ll have you screaming my name by the end of the night.”
“’m married.” Simon says coldly, never once looking back at her.
The woman snickers. “Then where’s your wife? She must not be too great if she’s nowhere to be seen.”
Simon nods in your direction and the woman turns to see you glaring at her over your glass.
The woman scoffs. “Some wife, leaving you all alone in a corner like this.” She places her hand on his arm and squeezes. “I would never leave a stud like you alone and waiting.”
Simon moves away again. “This is yer last chance to step away from me.”
The woman’s eyes light up as she moves closer “Ooh, are you gonna get angry? I’d love to see you get angry.”
The woman turned to see you standing directly behind her, arms crossed and gaze steely.
She looks you up and down then cackles. “What are you gonna do, sparkle me to death?”
You scoff. “My husband’s made it clear he has no interest in speaking to you. We’ve been nice so far. You should leave before we lose our patience.”
“I’m perfectly comfortable right here keeping your husband company.” She steps closer to you. “I’m not scared of a little girl in a sparkly dress, so you can leave me and this hunk of a man al–”
She moves her hand to shove your shoulder but you grab her wrist in a tight grip before she can.
She attempts to yank her hand away, but your grip is ever firm. You see her begin to panic. “Let go OF ME–”
“Scream and the hand comes off.” The woman stilled but whimpered. Simon silently moved in front of you both to block the show.
“I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt and assumed you were crazy for approaching my husband, but now I see you’re just stupid. So let me remind you of something important.” Your grip on her arm tightens. “Everyone in this room is military, and has gone through at least the basics of tactical training a million times. I take down men three times your size with my bare hands for a living, a bitch like you would be nothing. This is your last chance to leave, and I don’t want to hear a sound from you when you do. ”
You release your hold and she steps back rubbing her wrist.
You watch her scurry off looking at you like you’re the crazy one, hair disheveled and steps wobbly. You don’t take your eyes off of her until she darts down a hallway.
You feel Simon’s hand on your lower back, and he leans in and whispers to you. “We need to leave.”
“I told you, I’m not scared of Price. If he’s gonna be give me shit for attacking some–”
“Not because of Price. Never seen jealousy on you before, but I really like how it looks.”
Your breath hitches. You look up at Simon, the lower half of his face still covered, but his eyes full of promises.
“Yeah, I think it’s a good time to call it a night.”
You and Simon briskly make your way to the coat check to get your things, Simon’s hand on your back the whole time. While you were waiting for your things, you hear someone call your name. It was Kendall, Laswell at her side.
“Oh my God, you kicked that girl’s ass!”
“Well, she was too much of a coward to face an actual ass kicking, so I just let her off with a warning.”
“Damn, remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Laswell smirks. “Wasn’t expecting to see you in action off the field. Glad to see your time off hasn’t made you rusty.”
“Do you expect anything less?”
Laswell chuckles. “From you, never.”
The attendant comes back with your coats. “You guys are leaving?” Kendall asks.
Simon helps you put your coat on. “Yeah, the social battery was practically empty, that priss drained the rest of it.”
“Can I get your number before you go?”
While you exchange contact information, Laswell approached Simon. “Quite the show you three put on.”
“You’re the only ones who saw.”
“Thank god for that, or you would’ve had a nasty charge on your hands. Or worse.”
“And that might be the only thing saving you. Just be careful.”
He turns to look at you still talking to Kendell. His gaze lingers, eyes going from your bodice and settling on your red lips. His gaze is intense and hungry. The sight of you putting some slut in her place for daring to touch him has his collar and trousers feeling stuffier than ever.
Laswell clears her throat. “I’ll let you two go so you can blow off some steam.”
You say goodbye to them both and head out to valet.
You both waited for the car, Simon’s hand on your hip with a soft grip. He looked down at you, your eyes were distant, eyebrows pinched and lips turned down in a frown.
“You still pissed about that woman?”
You groaned. “The fucking nerve of that bitch! You’re wearing your ring and you told her no twice, who the hell does she think she is thinking she can go home with you?”
Simon chuckles, low and deep. He takes your hand and brings it to his covered lips. “I like seein’ you like this, luv. All grumpy and possessive.”
You try to hide your smile. “Well, I get like that when someone tries to take what’s mine.”
Simon kisses the shell of your ear. “She can try all she likes, she’s not takin’ me anywhere when I have the most perfect, pretty little wife waitin t’ take care of what’s hers.”
You feel heat pool beneath your belly button, and suddenly wish the valet would hurry up with the car. You have territory to mark.
