I Feel It In My Bones (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)

The Beginning Of The End

The next morning, you woke up to a loud thumping sound, and someone yelling in the hallway. 'Bones?'

You groaned, rolling in the bed, pulling the sheets closer over your body. You were so warm, so comfortable - Simon's arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you tight against his chest. The comforting scent of pine and tobacco hung in the air, the fabric of the sheets beneath your fingertips was soft, and your body sunk into the mattress like melted butter.

'Bones?' The persistent call echoed.

Your eyelids fluttered. As you shifted slightly, you became more aware of the faint creak of the bed, the subtle rustle of sheets, and the sensation of Simon's warmth seeping through every point of contact. For a moment, you forgot you were on a military base, and a sense of tranquility lingered as you traced the lines of his face. The calls from the corridor felt like distant echoes in a dream, and the world outside seemed to fade away in the haven of the room.

The room.

Simon's room.

Your eyes shot open.

Memories of the night before played out like a movie in your mind - Simon's hands on you, his lips pressed against yours, the electricity between you raising the temperature of the room. You had taken a shower together afterwards, shared a cigarette, and fallen into the most peaceful sleep you had ever had.

The time on the clock read early in the morning - too fucking early, in your opinion. The dim light filtering through the curtains painted the room in a soft, pre-dawn glow, casting long shadows that danced across the walls.

And Sandman was in the hallway.

Outside of your door.

Shouting for you.

Simon's eyes blinked open. His dark lashes grazed his cheeks, and for a moment, he seemed suspended between sleep and wakefulness, his expression unusually relaxed. The sheets clung to his broad frame, dark and tousled hair falling in disarray around his face.

'Bones, you in there?' Sandman's voice grew more insistent. 'Seriously man, I'm getting worried. Just let me know that you're alive.'

There was muted annoyance in Simon's eyes as he looked at you. He shifted slightly, his arm loosening around your waist. 'Maybe you should reply to him. And tell him to pipe down while you're at it.'

With a disgruntled sound, you moved with more willpower than you thought you could conjure, and rolled out of the bed. You grumbled under your breath as your body left the warmth and hit the cold air, and looked down at your clothes scattered on the floor, remnants of the night's intimacy. You couldn't deny the flush of your cheeks as you stepped over them.

A series of harsh knocks sounded at Simon's door. 'Ghost? You there?'

You froze.

Simon groaned under his breath, a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the room. He shifted on the bed, reaching to his nightstand in a well-practiced motion. He pulled on the mask of Ghost, the balaclava transforming his features into the familiar stoic expression of your Lieutenant. He tossed your scattered clothes under the bed, and swiftly pulled on his own hoodie and jeans, muscles rippling under the light of the sunrise. A subtle nod accompanied a gesture toward the washroom. 'I'll deal with him. Hide.'

As Ghost rose to his feet, you scurried into the other room. The washroom door swung partially closed behind you, the air in the small space cool against your skin. You leaned your weight against the doorframe, strands of hair falling against your forehead as you tilted your head towards the jarred open washroom door, concentrating as you prepared to listen in.