Simon x Cat x Neighbour!reader
Part two > (previous part)
Simon Riley was a lot like his cat, dropping by your flat whenever he wanted. Thanking you for looking after Cat in small little ways.
Bringing you home little trinkets from his work travels. “Got it from some market, can’t tell you where though. Would have to kill ya and I really don’t want that.” Little things that line every inch of your windowsill, crystals he’s found because he knows you like them.
Thankfully it wasn’t a mouse, Simon hunting one down after Cat delivered one to you. And as you watched him pause, head angled to listen for the squeaks or little scurries. You couldn’t help but think he was a cat too. For a big guy, he was light on his feet and everything he did quiet.
“Dinner?” You asked, trying not to look at the mouse dangling between Simon’s finger and thumb by its tail. “Not a huge fan of rodent.”
He invites you into his flat for the first time, promising that it’s rodent free. “Woah your place is real big,” you say, opening your arms in the space as if you expected to touch wall to wall. Simon’s thinking of all the activities he could do with you, but decides dinners a good start.
Dinner turns into grabbing a morning coffee after a run and even going on evening runs, which angers him because before him you never would have done so alone. Sitting on the bench in the park to stretch or take a rest as you sip your water bottle, stickers decorating the outside.
When the pipe under your sink was dripping water for months, he fixed it and you didn’t find out till you went to check if the bucket was full of water again. No, no bucket under the sink. There was a small tool box in its place, stuff you had no idea what to do with.
Cat was drinking from the bucket under the sink, that’s how Simon discovered it. He’s even got a picture of it on his phone as well as a load of pictures you’d sent him with Cat. Sometimes he looks through them in his room back at the base. A few videos of your soft voice calling Cat.
So you sent him a picture of said toolbox and messaged him. “Did the fairies visit me?” He didn’t respond till the next day, “big bloody fairy.” promising to show you what they were for and sending you a video of basic plumbing if you wanted to learn yourself whilst you waited for his return.
Cue Simon teaching you how to fix the plumbing in your flat. The two of you squeezed into the little box of a bathroom as he listened to you explain about the low pressure of the shower and the tap on the sink you wanted to swap with something pretty.
The eroded shower hose snapping and spraying the both of you with water. Simon’s hoody drenched, sticking to every curve and dip of his muscles. Your back leant against the wall as his arm reached above you to turn the water off.
“I really wanna kiss ya,” he said, head inching closer to yours, gaze flitting to your lips. “Kiss me.”
You use his place for sex and make sure Cat is in your flat, “don’t want the kid to see,” is what Simon says.
Whenever Simon sees you’ve run out of anything, he’ll pick it up when he’s doing his weekly food shop. The coffee sachets refilled when you go to the kettle and when you ask, Simon shrugs “the fairies,” he says, sipping his cup of tea with the morning paper.
Even when you are officially dating you were still going between the two flats. Joking that cat had the studio and you could stay with Simon.
Some little part of my brain just loves the thought of Simon “Ghost” Riley having a wife who’s extremely educated—possibly a master's or a PHD in some field—but who likes to be a stay-at-home wife. She knows she could go into a high-level job, but she’d rather be at home doing her hobbies like writing, gardening, or hell, even making stained glass murals. And you know Simon would not only praise you but brag and gloat about his intelligent woman.
Maybe this is just my little fantasy of wanting to be a SAHW but still wanting to be extremely educated.
Sorry, I'll see myself out 🫡
You know what?
I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.
I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)
I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.
I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.
I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.
I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.
I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.
I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.
I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.
Ok so i finished the campaign and omg-
Imagine after price comes back from deployment he goes unlock the door to your guys house and the first thing he sees is dinner ready for him, candles lit up to set up that calming mood. He hears his favorite song in the kitchen and thats where he sees you. You who waits for him everytime he leaves. You whos there to lift the world off his shoulders and You who gladly welcome him with a soft kiss in the cheek in your tiny kitchen.
When’s it gonna be my tuuuurn
best thing about ghostsoap fandom is that 99.9% of us ignored canon/didn't play the game, just saw two beefy, disheveled cod men and decided to ship them, and now that activision has thrown soap's entire character away for no reason we're just like lmao nice au there, too bad none of us were paying attention :) anyway guys you know the drill
are you man enough?
Oh my god
Do better idk
It’s weird how everyone hating you when you’re nine years old still affects your self esteem when you’re 26 like yeah nobody came to my birthday party but that was like 17 years ago why is it stopping me from going to a gay bar
Simon looks like his father, the only thing he got from his mother was his lighter hair. He doesn't dwell on his looks, he has other things to worry about, but sometimes it bubbles up.
The bastard is dead, the features Simon carries belong to him, not his father. But he still thinks about it sometimes, catches himself in the mirror and pauses for a split second. His cheeks are fuller than his father's were, but he's got that same crooked nose and dark eyes he can never quite meet when he looks at himself.
He wouldn't say he's insecure. he knows he isn't ugly, there's just something unnerving about meeting his father's eyes in his own reflection. It's even worse after a long, bad mission, when he's lost weight and looks like shit. Catching his reflection sends a chill down his neck, and the mirrors in his home end up with a towel over them til he's stable.