asleepyyeti

[asleepyyeti]

i know that something will always make it obvious that the reader insert isn’t completely you (i’m sure there are tonnes of things in mine that people find hard to imagine themselves doing/saying) but the funniest one for me is when the reader is making some delicious food and it’s got cheese in it. i hate cheese so fucking much it always makes me laugh

[asleepyyeti]

Deal breaker

Credit too @morgansroan for the idea. Summary: You get set up on a blind date that seems to click really well. That is, until you learn his current job.

You didn't really want to go on this blind date, but your friend insisted that this guy would be just perfect for you. You'd seen his pictures. Slight stubble, beautiful hazel eyes, and a lovely smile. Kyle was his name, and you waited nervously beside the host stand for him to show up. Fighting the urge to check your phone for the time you hear the restaurants door chime open.

Kyle steps through the threshold, looking exactly like his photos, wearing a button-up and dress pants. You instinctively smooth a hand over your own outfit, worrying if it was a tad too casual but shrugging off the thought.

When he catches your eye, you raise your hand to wave at him. My God, he was cute! Almost cuter than his photos, and you smile at him happily. In a few long steps, he stands in front of you and offered his hand to shake.

"Hi there. Y/N, right?" He asks as you shake his hand, a small smile gracing your lips. When you nod, his smile widens and he looks down bashfully. "Sorry I'm a few minutes late. I'm new to the area and got lost."

"I've been here three years, and I still can't find my way around. This is a seat yourself resturant, so does a booth or table sound good?" You couldn't help but smile as you talked to him. Even this simple converation was making some butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"Booth please? Got some long legs I don't want to kick you with." He jokes, making you chuckle happily as you turn and guide him through the resturant. "You come here a lot?" He asks after the two of you took a booth by the window.

"Oh, yeah! It's like a block from the bakery I work at. I'm here almost 3 nights a week." You chuckle as the waitress stops by to drop off menus and take drink orders.

"You work at a bakery? What's that like?" Kyle asks, playing it safe and ordering a water with lemon.

"Long hours at 3 AM, lots of dough, and lots of getting burned. But I love what I do." You say as you lift up your arms to show off a few healed burn marks.

"Oh, that one looks really bad..." Kyle says, his hand very gently taking yours so he could study a burn on your inner wrist. "How do you handle that? Burning yourself and not dropping a tray of cookies when you do?" He asks, half joking but half sincere.

"Getting burned is better tha dealing with people who can't get the exact cookie they wanted." You say seriously, locking eyes with him. "The burns are kinder than people who want their food." Kyle cracks up slightly at that, letting go of youur hand and flipping open his menu.

He's cute, he's laughing at my jokes, and he's asking me questions about myself? This is too good to be true.

"That was amazing. I can see why your here all the time." Kyle hold the door open for you as you leave the resturant, rubbing his stomach. "I'm having a really good time tonight." He takes his hand from his stomach and places it in yours, intertwining your fingers.

"I am too. How does some ice cream sound? There's a really good place right up the street." You offer up, looking at him with a growing smile and a flush feeling face.

"Sounds good." Kyle's words are followed by a soft hand squeeze, lettiing you lead him just one street up to the little shop. "Oh woah... When I get back from my next deployment, you'll have to show me around." He says, looking around at the cutesy little shop.

You almost stop dead in your tracks, but don't have time to question what he said; the girl at the front counter asking if you need any help. There's no way you heard that right. Kyle offers for you to order first, still looking over the menu for something he'd like.

"Can I get one scoop of carrot cake in a bowl, with waffle chips, please." You order, pointing to the broken pieces of waffle cone. "They use any broken waffle cones as chip pieces. You can scoop your ice cream like nachos." You offer, but he's playfully twisting up his face at your ice cream choice.

"Carrot cake?"

"Don't knock it till you try it." You shoot back and wait for him to order. You notice how straight up he stands, the short hair cut, the defined muscles and you could feel the butterflies wings wrinkling up a little. He certainly looked like a military man now that you were looking for it.

Kyle orders a coffee chocolate chip in a bowl, getting some waffle chips and before you can reach for your card, he's handing over cash. "Oh, I can cover my portion." You insist and he shakes his head.

"No, let me. I'm having a good time, let me treat you." His warm smile still makes you smile, and your stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Are you really in the military?" You ask once you both got your treats and sat outside the shop. Blunt and too the point so you wouldn't be wasting his time or yours.

"Yeah, I am. Special forces." His smile falters a little when he looks at you. "Is that a problem?"

"Yes. Well, kind of. I don't want to judge you based off of my bad experiences, or my personal feelings about the military. You are your own person, not just some extention of the military." You ramble, shoving a bite of ice cream into your mouth.

"But?" Kyle probes. He could tell there was a little more there.

"I just don't date military men. Which fucking sucks because you are a really great guy." You finish, looking up from your ice cream and giving him a smile. "Any chance you were joking about the special forces?"

"Unfortunately not." Kyle looks a bit dejected, looking at you with a small smile. "I can respect your choice, but there's a part of me that would love to take you out again. Not to prove you wrong or anything! I respect your choice. I just really like you." He assures and his hand finds yours, giving it a soft squeeze.

"I'm not going to change my mind, Kyle. I'm sorry." You confirm and squeeze his hand back. "I'm glad that we're talking about this now, you know?"

"Yeah... Does that mean you won't give me a town tour when I get back?" He asks, taking his hand back and smiling. "Even if we don't date, I'd appreciate a friend."

"Friends is good." You agree quietly, and look down at your half melted ice cream. You knew that maybe, just maybe, Kyle would try to convinve you to date him. And maybe, just maybe, he was one of the good military men.

Regardless, you knew you wouldn't be dating him. But at least you had a new friend.

Kyle smiles as he watches you eat. He knows he shouldn't stick around with the intention of changing you mind. He doubts that he could, but he really did like you. If being your friend was the only way that he could know you, than he would be okay with that.

[asleepyyeti]

Kyle Gaz Garrick is using Simon Riley as a blanket and reading to him, by the way

[asleepyyeti]

i think even when they’re just guys being pals, johnnys family adopt simon. im talking his parents call him their son unironically and confuse people who know they only have one son ??? its starts off as his parents saying “oh thats our johns best friend, he’s practically our son” and becomes “our boys are coming up on leave soon, cant wait to see them”

and then johnnys sisters saying “simon? yeah hes my brother. of course i never mentioned him before, i only knew he existed last year.”

“simon if ye ever come home lookin that skinny again i’ll feed ye tablet till its comin out yer ears” (simon is a wall of muscle he just leaned out over a hard deployment).

they call their house home to him because it is his home, if he wants it. they ask if him and johnny want an extra bed for their room and johnny immediately says they should get bunk beds (grown ass man).

his ma asks them to join in on arts and crafts with the grandkids and simon doesnt think anything of it until he sees his shitty finger painting on the fridge next to one of johnnys from nursery (johnny - age 3) (simon - age 35)

[asleepyyeti]

Omega!Soap who frothes at the mouth when he meets you for the first time. Your scent engulfs him despite the stupid amount of suppressants and blockers the military forces everyone to take and a dribble of slick runs down his leg. Omega!Soap who starts reading parenting books and making baby name lists and arranging his finances because he knows he's going to be your Omega. You are going to be his Alpha. You are going to have a litter of tiny Scottish babies with your eyes. Omega!Soap who volunteers to spar with you every time you want to work on some hand-to-hand only so he can feel your body against his.

Omega!Soap who insists you call him Johnny, which tells the rest of the taskforce how Soap feels. Omega!Soap who works his hardest whenever he knows you are watching. Training. Going over mission specs. Creating and deactivating different bombs. Taking down targets on the field. If he knows you are watching, he locks the fuck in. (And when he's done, he turns to you for approval, blue eyes glittering, mouth pulled wide in a lovely grin)

Omega!Soap who could drown in the sound of your laugh and does everything he can to get that reaction. He basks in the light of your eyes as you smile at whatever quip came out of his mouth. Omega!Soap who actually listens to medical when he gets hurt as long as you are in the room to repeat their instructions. He will listen to you. Will not listen to them. (Price sometimes has you relay his orders to Soap as a precaution before risky missions. Soap listens to Price but he listens to you.) Omega!Soap who has separation anxiety and whines horrifically and consistently when you are sent on a mission without him. He knows you aren't together - yet, his inner Omega huffs - but he is chomping at the bit the entire time you are gone.

Omega!Soap who plans his leave to be the same time as yours and drops hints that you should visit Scotland with him. Its beautiful this time of year (and he wants to show his family the Alpha he's been telling her about).

Omega!Soap who circles you as he nears his heat, hoping you'll chase him down. Hoping you'll follow him directly into his nest and slip between his spread thighs. He snarls at other Alphas who think they have a chance, making a big show of it so you know that he would never accept another in his bed.

Omega!Soap who circles you as you near your rut, hoping you'll use him to satisfy your urges. He bears his throat and stares at you through long dark lashes. He snarls at other Omegas who think they have a chance, making a big show of it so you know that he will fight for you if need be. Omega!Soap who has medical remove his IUD and switches to the pill...and never takes it when you both aren't on a mission. He has a couple morning-after-pills for worst case scenario situations but he is not about to let an IUD stop him from getting knocked up on the random chance you wake up and decide your life's goal is to make an honest Omega out of him. Omega!Soap whose instincts turn dark and dangerous when you are taken hostage. Who makes such quick work of the hostile enemies that everyone is dead before anyone catches wind that anyone has died. Who snarls, blood in his maw and in his claws, as he brings you to safetly. Who only calms when he can rest alongside you, his head on your chest so he can monitor your heartbeat.

Omega!Soap who cries - from euphoria and relief - the first time you knot him. The cries turning into sobs when you sink your teeth in his neck. Who sniffles along your neck before biting you back.

[asleepyyeti]

unnervingly domestic - plotting

you meeting simon was just a quirk of fate. right?

john price-centric, platonic ! simon riley + reader (background)

cw's: manipulation (?), dark john price, (the explanation is in the tags)

[masterlist]

Both you and Simon believed your meeting was happenstance; one of few those pleasant coincidences that luck granted.

The truth was a little more murky, and John Price would take that truth to the grave.

The true story goes like this:

Three days after returning from an op, Captain John Price notices that Ghost is still lingering. A silent operator, haunting the halls and his partners. The man inside of Ghost is nowhere to be found.

It’s been taking Simon longer and longer to shrug off the Ghost armour, and as he sits on the edge of his bed that night, John worries that one day soon, he’ll be stuck inside it forever. He can’t let that happen, can’t let the light that is Simon Riley be snuffed out this way. So he spends a sleepless night planning, plotting, calling in favours from people he has no business even knowing—and come daybreak, he smiles.

Simon will be brought back to the light.

You come suggested by a sleeper agent that John has known for a decade at least—she's a friend of yours who you believe to be a teaching assistant in a local secondary school. She has your background check ready to go, though John does his own as surety, and he sees promise in it. You’ve the right temperament, the right flaws and strengths and goals. 

A roadmap unfolds before him, of your awkward first meeting, of Simon’s heart thawing when Luna adopts you as her own, of you burrowing into Simon’s soft underbelly and making a home there. He sees Simon finding purpose again in the mundanity of civilian life. You’ll cook together, shop together, bicker over cleaning. You’ll be there for Simon when he eventually starts therapy (which he will, though he doesn’t know it yet. John’s planning to bring that plan to fruition in the next 8 months). You’ll become part of each other. 

John disregards all further dossiers.

At the same time, your living situation slowly becomes unlivable. The heating doesn’t work in winter, and your normally agreeable landlord bans personal heaters. Come spring, mould blooms in every room, forcing you to rent an incredibly overpriced storage unit before it ruins everything you own. The neighbours you had loved move out, replaced with ones who steal your packages and slam doors.

You’re close to despair when your long-suffering friend finds the almost-perfect listing. Your place was being fumigated—ants? on the third floor?—and she had graciously suggested a sleepover. The two of you were lounging around on her sofa, scrolling estate agents and letting agents between bites of takeaway, bemoaning how bleak the housing landscape is when she finds it.

It hits everything you need: rent a little below market average, area quiet but not too out of the way, en-suite bathroom… but…

“One male roommate? I dunno…”

“Says he’s happy to meet beforehand, I could come with you? You know I’m good at vibes,” she wiggles her fingers at you.

“I don’t know,” you say, hesitant, “first meeting vibes are very different from living together vibes.”

“Give it a go, eh?” she encourages gently. “If it doesn’t work out, nothing’s lost. But this would let you save a little, maybe think about getting your own place someday. It’s worth a go.”

You take another bite and mull it over.

“You’re right. Okay, let’s… let’s message him. Let’s give it a go.”

John had planned out Simon’s recovery meticulously, and now, watching the pair of you laugh while playing fetch with Luna, he knew he’d made the right choice. 

You were playing your part perfectly.

[asleepyyeti]

thinking about vampires who are created from innocents dying an unjust death like an old short story i read a while back but can’t remember the name of and thinking it’s very ghost and roach coded

edit: i’m pretty sure it was For The Blood Is The Life by F Marion Crawford but i’ve been wrong before

[asleepyyeti]

GhostGaz Week Day 2 - Tied Up /Quick Escape

CW: Kink discussion, rope play, a light bit of pre-negotiated distress (with heavily-implied aftercare)

“Safety is your main priority,” Kyle says to the room of class attendees. He makes eye contact with everyone in the room, rigger and bottom alike, and continues, “We’re here to have fun, but rope can cause permanent damage a damn sight faster than most people think, so the first thing we’re learning is how to get your partner out of the rope, quickly and safely.”

There are a few distracted people, and he would normally be annoyed, but he knows that Simon makes a pretty impressive display. He turns around and lets himself have a moment to admire his work, as well. Simon blinks up at him, placid, hovering three feet above the ground in a side suspension. He looks comfortable, decadent, nude besides a pair of boxer-briefs and his balaclava. He’s spilling out, just a bit, around the ropes holding him captive. It’s a good look.

Kyle tweaks his nipple with a wink, then spins his sub to show his back to the room. He turns, himself, and asks, “Ghost has been up for a good ten minutes. Does anyone know what I should be looking for?”

A tentative hand goes up, and a young man in the front row says, “His fingers have blood flow?”

“That’s one,” Kyle praises, and tosses a pack of fruit snacks his way. “Anyone else?”

“Can he wiggle his fingers?” A woman asks from the back of the room, and she grins when he lobs another pack of fruit snacks her way.

Simon wiggles his fingers and toes and says, “Everythin’ seems in workin’ order.”

The next 10 minutes go well. Kyle has to encourage some of the rope bottoms to speak up, but by the time he’s considering bringing Simon back down to the floor, everyone is engaged. When he puts his fingers against Simon’s palm, he gets three squeezes, so Kyle gives his bicep a pinch back.

“Okay, Ghost has let me know he’s gonna be pretty damn uncomfortable in about five minutes, so let’s get him down so we can actually talk about some of the 101 ties,” Kyle announces. “And when I’m done bringing him down, I want to talk to you about the most important tool to have on you if you’re going to tie anyone, for any reason. Take a minute to discuss together while I get him settled.”

This, Kyle knows, is Simon’s least favorite part of the class, so he runs his hands over his chest and belly as he coos, “Doin’ a great job, big guy. You make me look good, up here.”

“Sweet talker,” Simon grumbles, and Kyle can tell he’s smiling behind his mask.

“You deserve sweet talk, gorgeous,” Kyle chuckles as he lowers his partner’s body a hand and a half, then ties him off to focus on lowering his legs until his knees are on the ground. He cups Simon’s face in his hands and squishes his cheeks. “We should have you demo for Price’s praise class, tied up just like this.”

“Watch it,” Simon grumbles, and Kyle grins as his chest flushes red.

“No, you’re my good boy,” Kyle agrees, wrapping his arms around Simons shoulders and pulling him in for a hug. “Gimme your color.”

Simon takes a few seconds to think about it, the way Kyle always makes him. Then he says, “Green. Three point five.”

Kyle hums. “Not four?”

“Not four,” Simon confirms.

“Up for a cuddle, then?”

“You better give me a fuckin’ cuddle,” Simon grumbles, tilting his head to bite gently at Kyle’s obliques. He growls as Kyle laughs and tries, not very hard, to inch out of his reach.

“Alright, alright,” Kyle chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to Simon’s forehead through his mask. “Gonna keep your arms tied. Green?”

“Green.”

Kyle pats his shoulder and turns to the class. “Okay. Who knows what your most important tool is when tying?”

“Rope,” three people call out at once, and the whole class bursts into laughter.

Kyle laughs with them, and shakes his head. “Rope definitely helps. But no. That’s not the tool I’m thinking of. Remember, we’re talking safety.”

From the middle of the room, a woman calls, “Safety shears.”

“Bingo,” Kyle says, under-handing a pack of snacks into a waiting hand. He crosses his arms and lets out a heavy breath. “I meant it, earlier, when I said that rope can cause permanent damage faster than you think. Improperly placed rope and lack of preparedness can kill your rope partner. So. Safety shears.”

Kyle pulls his safety shears from his thigh harness, circles around behind Simon, and cuts the one rope still holding him up in two good cuts. Simon sags back against his legs with a grunt, and Kyle automatically reaches forward to squeeze his shoulder and then wrap a hand around his neck.

“Easy. I let you down on purpose,” Kyle whispers, as Simon’s shoulders start to shake. “I’ve got you, You’re doing perfect. Say it back.”

“Doin’ perfect,” Simon grits out, then takes a deep breath. “You’ve got me. Not dropped.”

“Not dropped,” Kyle says back, petting Simon’s shoulder firmly. “You’re doing so well. Gonna do the rest of the class under my hands, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Simon grunts. One of his hands grips the leg of Kyle’s trousers. “You’ve got me.”

“I’ve got you.”

When Kyle looks up, he smiles softly and holds up the shears. “Having to cut someone down can be stressful, for a lot of reasons. But it’s something we can all recover from. Nerve damage, blood, and airflow interference? Not so much. So! There’s a box of scrap rope some shears up here, everyone come practice cutting. And then I’ll teach you some basic cuffs.”

[asleepyyeti]

Good boys

#GhostGazWeek

Day one: Good Boy/Down Boy

Guess who's already behind on the schedule? I'm still doing this. Even if what I do is gonna be shite.

CW: slightly suggestive in the end

It smells like dogs in here. It shouldn’t come as a surprise – and it doesn’t, not since these visits have become a routine for them. It was Kyle’s idea, and Simon trusted him when he said he always wanted to do something like this and it wasn’t just a plot to get Ghost into some kind of “animal therapy” to fix him. Gaz never tried to fix him. Gaz understood.

That’s probably why Simon had no apprehension coming to this facility. Spacious rooms with foam padding on the floor, like in kindergarten - soft for burly men with bad knees to sit on, easy to clean in case some of the dogs have an accident, squeaky toys and old chewy bones thrown around, and that constant dog smell – all of it became a comfort place. A place where retired human soldiers meet retired dog soldiers, shake their furry paws and dedicate their time to make sure these former colleagues don’t feel abandoned and lonely, like veterans often do.

Ghost knows how those dogs feel. He had been there once, temporarily suspended from service on account of his death – when he had nothing to do and no one to meet. His cheap flat looked grey and mirky, his tea tasted like piss, his scars ached every cold night. But now? There’s artwork on the walls. There’s well-seasoned food on the table. There are warm hands resting on his ribs while they sleep. There’s Kyle.

Simon knows how those dogs feel, when they jump onto Garrick’s chest and wag their broken tails despite years of discipline ingrained in their wolf-like skulls, because he feels the same way when Gaz comes home from the grocery store and gets ambushed by a Ghost creeping up on him during unpacking. There are titanium plates and bolts holding some of Kyle’s vertebrae together and Simon’s fingers don’t have same good grasp anymore, but Gaz still finds himself lifted off the ground and locked in a greedy embrace, just like that old German shepherd finds itself in a tight hug of Kyle’s strong arms when it stands up and puts its paws on his shoulders.

“Who’s a good boy? Missed me, did ya? Oh yeah, you’re a good boy, still shedding like a wooly mammoth, eh? Oof, careful with the kisses, mate, that’s my eye,” Simon looks over from where he’s standing, searching for a specific squeaky rubber star toy for the one dog that’s circling him with excited whining and headbutting him under his knees to make him hurry and come play. Gaz is on his knees, face scrunched and black eyeliner smudged around one eye as he tilts his head up and away to try and stop a huge excited shepherd from licking his face again. His smile is shining through even like that, bright and happy, as he laughs and scratches the dog’s sides, pulling clamps of warm soft fur stuck between his fingers. “Ya need a good brushing, mate, come on, get off me for a sec, I’ll go get a brush.”

Ghost watches as Kyle gets up, holding onto his lower back for a split second – and still finds grace in his every movement. His trusty bally hides that stupid lovestruck expression he has on his face – but even just his eyes betray how utterly smitten Simon is. He expected the feelings to dull down, get calmer once they’re off duty and swallowed by the domesticity and routine, but they didn’t. Seeing Kyle fighting off affectionate dogs or put his hair in silk for the night makes Ghost just as weak in the knees as seeing Gaz set records on the shooting range or rush into close combat did.

Everything around him slides into the background, blurring and dimming. Kyle’s soft laughter and murmurs fill Simon’s chipped ears, seep into his bloodstream, feeding the black and gold butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. Gaz is the centre of his attention – the centre of his whole world, so when Ghost hears a command, his body reacts before he can even register it.

“Come on, down, boy! Let me brush ya.”

Several pairs of eyes, human and dog, snap up to look at Simon when he falls to his knees. There are other veterans in the room, their reflexes still sharp and ready to react to anything unusual – and there are dogs tensed up like coils inside a gun, ready to drag a wounded soldier from under fire or finish an enemy. Simon feels blood rush in his veins when he realizes what just happened, and he meets Kyle’s eyes a few meters away.

Garrick has a wicked, devilish smirk hiding in his dark eyes.

“You olrigh’, mate? These bastarts know how to knock a fella down, watch them ‘round your knees,” comes to rescue a kind lad, so much younger than Ghost that he almost questions why that boy is already retired before he sees one of the lad’s eyes give off a glassy artificial glint.

“Yeah, ol’ mate ‘ere gaggin’ for his toy, said I’m takin’ too long. Impatient arse,” Simon happily shoves the blame onto the poor innocent dog that’s still nuzzling him and trying to steal the squeaky star from his hands. Letting the toy out of his palms, Ghost steals a glance at Kyle again and gets startled when Gaz turns out to be much closer, having come up quietly.

Closing his eyes, Simon braces himself and still flinches slightly when Kyle’s hand slides onto his shoulder with a reassuring rub.

“You sure you’re okay, luv?” murmurs Gaz in a wicked, sultry tone, leaning so close that Ghost can feel his hot breath seeping into the bally’s fabric. “Be a good boy and watch out for your knees, will ya?”

“I fockin’ hate you, Garrick,” growls Simon under his breath, and immediately straightens up, moving his shoulder blades together and sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth. Kyle’s fingers under his bally tug on the leather collar again, making sure it’s sitting tight enough, and Gaz smirks, brushing his thumb over the bright silver letters of his full name etched in the collar.

“I don’t think so, Riley. Ya can tell me all about it when we’re back home, though. Just try not to get a chubby on in front of everyone, eh?”

[asleepyyeti]

[asleepyyeti]

how are you guys even finding my fics. i tag like shit

[asleepyyeti]

i got so caught up in wanting to write a long fic that i ignored the fact that i'm just not good at writing long-form stuff. i wish i was the kind of person that could churn out quality, engaging, 10,000 word fics, but i am simply, unfortunately, not built for that.

[asleepyyeti]

unnervingly domestic - face

the first time you see simon's face.

platonic!simon 'ghost' riley + reader

[masterlist]

Simon rubbed his eyes as he entered the kitchen. The clock had long struck 2am, and both of you should be in bed—but sleep had been evading him tonight, and it looked like you were in the same boat. The kitchen was only made navigable by the mix of the low, warm bulb that lived in the extraction fan and the stark white of the street light coming through the window. Sat at the table, you were more the suggestion of a person than any discernable features.

“What’re we up to out here,” he grumbled.

“Making carrot cake,” you mumbled back. “Did I wake y’up?”

“Nah.” He pulled out a chair and flopped into it. Under the table, Luna huffed. “Couldn’t sleep.”

You hum. “You a talker, or are we just eating warm carrot cake?”

“...cake.”

You nod. “Give it 5 minutes. I can’t tell if I can be arsed to make frosting or not.”

Moments like these were useful for Simon, times when he could start to build a clearer picture of you. Tonight, he’s learning that the quiet doesn’t scare you. You don’t feel the need to say something just to break it, instead letting it settle comfortably around the two of you. Both of you knew you could talk, but, instead, you deferred to the almost-silence of the early morning city.

Being independent and having his own space off-base had sounded great, and he had loved it—but the flat had smelled musty and looked dim every time he came home from deployment. There was no life in it. Getting a flatmate was always going to be a roll of the dice, but he was glad those dice had landed on you.

And here, now, something about the middle of the night made you less ‘on’, less trying to be the perfect roommate, more natural and yourself, and Simon found he liked it.

A bit of it reappeared when your night-vision kicked in. “Simon—your mask isn’t on—”

“Don’t sleep with it on,” he grumbled. He leaned backwards in his chair in a way that made you fear for its structural integrity.

“Yeah, but I can see, it’s not that dark—”

“‘m not that ugly.”

You removed your hands from your eyes in frustration. “I’m not ever going to be considerate ever again, you’re pissing me off.”

He chuckled. “Don’t mind you seeing. Probably best you get your first look in the dark.”

“You really don’t mind?”

“We live together, it was bound to happen sometime. Wouldn’t have come out here if I minded.”

You scoffed. “Like anyone can resist the siren smell of carrot cake.”

You don’t get to really drink in the sight of him before the timer’s going off, and you’re pulling the cake out of the oven. You put it down on a pot holder in the middle of the table, then two little plates, a knife and a treat for Luna.

“No frosting, no resting time. We’re eating warm cake right now.”

While you’re both eating your first bite of cake, you study Simon’s face. You hum approvingly around a mouthful. 

“Not bad.”

[asleepyyeti]

i might post some half written stuff that ive lost motivation for here while i wait for The Muse to return…

[asleepyyeti]

Another roommate Ghost!simon;

You and Simon co-parent a beautiful German Shepard by the name of daisy…. Or should I say Daisy is Simons dog but once you moved in she loved and doted on you like she was your own.

You spoil her rotten always gaining a huff from Simon followed by a gruff “she’d trade you for a bit of steak , ain’t nothing special love” which you learnt just to roll your eyes at.

One thing you didn’t expect was the day you were working away at your laptop when daisy came trotting into the living room holding a slobbered card in her mouth.

“What you got girl?” You say as you gently take the card out her mouth as she pants with a big smile on her face.

Between the streaks of slobber you read the card out loud… “Happy Mother’s Day to the best adopted mom love daisy …. Woof woof” you let out a hearty laugh as you give her a love thanking her as you kiss her on the head.

“She made me get you one” simons voice bellowed from the doorway.

“Oh yeah …. Just like she made you write in it for her and write woof woof”

you laugh as you smile soflty at him your heart full as daisy gives you the much needed kisses. As he just shakes his head.

“I’d do anything from you love...” Simon whispered to himself as his gaze softens as he watches over his two girls.

[asleepyyeti]

christmas eve at simons - 👻🧼🧢

they all ended up at ghost’s during the holidays. it’s the first time he’s celebrated christmas in a long time and it’s the happiest he’s been in ages :]

[asleepyyeti]

gaz wants to propose, but he wants it to be a surprise, and he needs the ring to fit perfectly first time, so he begs johnny to come over and work out your measurements by eye (johnny has the knack--it's almost a necessity in their line of work). you end up spending a nice evening with the two of them, but you do walk away thinking that johnny is a very funny, very pleasant hand pervert.