#hyperactivelyme requests

[hyperactively-me]

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE LISTEN TO ME PLEASE

141 Task Force + Ale and Kö with a ballerina civilian wife. THEN!!! (NO PLEASE THIS IS SO CUTE LISTEN) They came back from a mission without warning and they go to a presentation bcse they never actually saw one AND!!!! Their wife almost pass out in the middle of the stage by seeing them there (they look at her all in love and proud UGHHH).

THIS IS HELLA CUTE BYE-

BESTIE I'M LISTENING. LOUD AND CLEAR. this is so cute omg!!! also, i've never written for anyone other than ghost, and i don't have the confidence to write for anyone other than simon, so please don't be upset but i will be writing this only for ghost. (although, i genuinely want to get some practice in writing for all the other COD men, which i am trying to somewhat do through my king!ghost au, i just don't wanna fuck up their characters too badly haha. if at any point i decide to write for the others, i will totally come back to this prompt!). also, i wanted to make this more into a oneshot rather than blurb/headcanons soooo! yeah!

As the soft notes of The Sleeping Beauty Suite filled the dimly lit theater, you stood backstage, your heart racing. You sat on a spare box, fastening your pointe shoes on securely. The spotlight beckoned, the hushed whispers of the audience creating a palpable tension in the stiff air. The curtains were about to rise, and you were the prima ballerina. As you finished fastening your pointe shoes, you stood, brushing out your tutu. The weight of anticipation bore down on you, but you stood tall, chin up, back straight. You had practiced this routine a hundred times. It was just another night, another ballet. Nothing you weren’t used to. 

Except it wasn’t. 

You didn’t know your husband had just slipped in through the doors. He was still in his uniform, except for his mask and tactical gear. He never wore the mask around you. 

You had no idea that tonight would be different. All you knew was that Simon was not supposed to come back home for another three weeks. He had been deployed for three long months now. Your heart ached just thinking about how long you’ve been without him, the loneliness and longing that came with being a military spouse weighing heavy on you. 

The sudden sound of the orchestra snapped you out of your daydream, and the curtain began its ascent. Your delicate tutu billowed around you as you took your first step onto the stage, your body moving with the grace and precision that only years of training could produce.

But then, in the midst of your pirouettes and arabesques, something caught your eye in the sea of dimly lit faces. A figure, tall and strong, standing in the back of the theater. The world around you blurred as your heart leapt into your throat. It couldn't be.

Simon.

The shock of seeing him in the audience was enough to make you falter, to disrupt the airy balance of your performance. You stumble over your feet slightly, your knees shaky from the sudden interruption. 

You recover as best you can, continuing to dance. Your eyes locked onto his, you wanted to cry. He was home early. And he was here to watch you. His expression was one of awe and pride, like a lovesick puppy gazing at his beautiful wife.

You pranced and twirled, lost in the music and the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. It was as if the two of you were the only people in the world, the stage your sanctuary.

As the final notes of the music filled the theater, you struck your final pose, your breath ragged, your body trembling. The audience erupted into applause, their adoration washing over you like a warm embrace. But your eyes remained locked with Simon's, who was clapping with ferocious fever. His eyes never left yours. You flash him a teary, wet smile.

As soon as the curtains closed, you fell from your pose, taking in a ragged breath. 

Your fellow ballerinas had come up to congratulate you on a beautiful performance, but all you could do was say a rushed “thank you” before you were running through the backstage area. The backstage was a labyrinth of bustling dancers, stagehands, and dimly lit corridors. Your heart raced as you rushed to find a way out into the audience to reach Simon. The echoes of applause still reverberated through the walls, but all that mattered now was him.

Finally, you burst through a side door that led to the theater’s lobby. And there he was, waiting for you, his eyes shining with unbridled love and pride. His dark uniform was a stark contrast to the delicate pink of your ballet attire.

Without a word, you threw yourself into his arms, and he caught you, lifting you off your feet. The world around you ceased to exist as you held each other, tears of joy streaming down your face. His calloused hands wrap around you, squeezing you tight against him. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper into his ear, your watery voice filled with pure happiness. 

“I missed you so much, love.” Simon placed you gently back on your feet, his hands cradling your face with care, wiping away your tears. 

“I missed you, Si,” you take in a shaky breath. “So much.”

“I– I can’t believe you’re here, how did you know?”

“I would never miss my wife’s performance, now would I?” 

A mixture of laughter and tears escaped your lips as you leaned in to kiss him, a deep and passionate kiss. It felt like a dream come true that he was here, watching you perform. It had been ages since he was last able to come to one of your performances, and his support meant the world and more to you. You pull away from the kiss, shoving your face into his neck.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, his voice reverberating in your eardrums. “You looked beautiful, look beautiful.” 

You pull back, looking at him with a huge smile, rubbing his back gently. "Thank you, Si."

He pulls you back into a tight embrace, wrapping you in his warmth and burly arms. More tears welled up in your eyes, and you clung to him, feeling the weight of the months apart melt away.

His words warmed your heart. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The two of you held each other close, savoring the moment as long as you could.

[hyperactively-me]

Hi 💜💜💜I was wondering if you can write a ghost x reader who one day just gets a drastic hair cut. Like they always just had long hair ina ponytail but they just randomly decide to get shoulder langth hair and bangs. Like how do u think he would react?

I did that today and I feel so out of my comfort zone but I'm also so happy I finally made a change

U can ignore me if u want 😅

(I also really love black tie affair ur amazing 😍)

first of all, i bet your hair looks amazing! second of all, thank you for complimenting black tie affair, i truly appreciate it. i really really hope you like this 🫡

Simon "Ghost" Riley was a quiet man whose actions shouted volumes. Above all, action is what catches people's attention. And for Ghost, well, action is the way he communicates best.

He had always liked your long hair, frequently admiring it for its beauty. It became a trademark feature of your look, generally pulled back in a tight ponytail that matched your lifestyle. It was pretty much the only hairstyle you wore around the base, becoming your trademark look. However, one defining day, you decided to get a dramatic haircut. You wanted some change in your life, a fun, harmless way of bringing about a breath of fresh air. After you settled on what new style you wanted, your hair was now shoulder length, with stylish bangs framing your face.

When you entered the room, the team members turned their heads in astonishment, their eyes widening at your transformed appearance. Ghost, known for his constantly veiled face, couldn't help but leave a momentary expression of amazement before composing himself. His penetrating eyes inspected every aspect of your new haircut. 

For a brief minute, the room was deafeningly still, and then Ghost's lips curved into a smile. He couldn't disguise the admiration in his eyes as he looked at you. His typical stoicism dissipated, replaced with a feeling of warmth.

He was so used to seeing you with your long hair pulled back that he never considered the notion that you had the chance to make such a drastic change. The idea that you could change your appearance in this manner had simply never crossed his mind. Personally, he never really cared for his hair, often having “mask hair,” as his teammates liked to call it. But seeing you with your hair like this, he has to admit, he's thrilled by it.

He finally spoke. "You look different," he said, his voice a blend of surprise and genuinity. He studies the way your hair falls about your face, eyes flitting to and fro. “I love it. It suits you.”

His remark made you feel relieved. You were concerned that the new haircut would not be properly welcomed by your teammates, but Ghost's reply, however slight, soothed you. His approval meant the world to you.

“Thank you,” you said, your lips pulled in a modest grin. “I thought it was time for a change. Something new, y'know?”

Ghost stepped closer, his presence both welcoming and reassuring. He extended a gloved hand, his fingertips brushing against the ends of your new hair. 

You still, mouth agape as he unabashedly takes in your appearance.

“It's refreshing,” he stated, nearly whispering. “Like you.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you couldn't help but feel a burst of confidence. Ghost's infrequent displays of vulnerability had that impact on you. Something about his usual quiet behavior made his comments carry more significance, amplifying even the tiniest praises. 

Ghost continued stealing looks in your direction as the mission briefing began, a little grin tugging at his lips. He just couldn't stop appreciating the way you looked. Every time you took a quick glance at him, he appeared enthralled by your new appearance, admiring it in a manner that only he could. You smile to yourself, knowing that he's really, truly, appreciating you.

Though Ghost's emotions were normally veiled in mystery, his reaction to your haircut demonstrated that he paid attention to every little detail. And you knew his appreciation extended beyond your physical appearance. It was a deeper connection, a subconscious understanding that existed between the two of you.

Ghost's silent support remained consistent throughout the assignment, as did his faith in your skills. You couldn't help but be thankful for his subtle but significant presence in your life. And while you stood side by side, you couldn't help but think that change wasn't always about haircuts, but also about the unforeseen ways it altered the ties we had with those we cared about the most. Especially the way you and Ghost knew each other.