COD Oneshots

Dance with me (Ghost)

The grand ballroom of the opulent hotel glittered like a sea of stars, the shimmering chandeliers casting a golden glow over the elegantly dressed guests. A string quartet played softly in the corner, their music mingling with the low murmur of conversation and the clinking of crystal glasses. It was the perfect setting for an evening of elegance and sophistication—or, in Simon "Ghost" Riley's case, an undercover mission.

Simon stood near the large floor-to-ceiling windows, his eyes scanning the room beneath the cover of his mask. His suit was sharp and tailored, a stark contrast to his usual tactical gear. He felt out of place in the civilian attire, the polished shoes and the bow tie foreign against his hardened, military background. But tonight wasn't about comfort; it was about blending in, about being just another nameless guest at this lavish event while keeping a close watch for their target—a notorious arms dealer who was expected to make an appearance.

He'd been at the hotel for hours already, running over the details of the mission in his mind, preparing for every possible scenario. But as time ticked on and the moment to leave for the ball approached, his thoughts began to drift elsewhere—specifically, to his partner for the night, Y/N.

Y/N had been his partner in countless operations, her skills and instincts making her one of the best operatives he'd ever worked with. They had a natural synergy in the field, a wordless understanding that made them an unstoppable team. But tonight was different. This was a mission of subterfuge, of deception. And that meant Y/N would have to play a role that neither of them were accustomed to.

When she finally emerged from the hotel bathroom, the air seemed to leave Simon's lungs.

She stepped into the room with an effortless grace, the soft swish of her dress the only sound as she approached. The dress was a deep, midnight blue, clinging to her curves in all the right places before cascading down to the floor. The backless design revealed the smooth expanse of her skin, her hair—usually tied up in a no-nonsense bun—now flowing freely down her back in soft waves. She looked stunning, an absolute vision of elegance, and for a moment, Simon forgot how to breathe.

He was used to seeing her in tactical gear, hair pulled back, eyes sharp with focus. But this... this was something else entirely. Her beauty had always been undeniable, but seeing her like this, in a dress that made her look like she belonged in this world of wealth and privilege, it took his breath away.

"How do I look?" she asked, her voice light but laced with the slightest hint of nerves.

Simon swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat. She looked incredible, more than incredible—she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. But those weren't the kinds of words that came easily to him, especially not in moments like this.

"Perfect," he managed to say, his voice rough. "You look perfect, Y/N."

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she gave him a playful twirl, the skirt of her dress flaring out slightly. "Think I'll be able to blend in with the rest of the crowd?"

Simon nodded, his eyes still locked on her. "No one's going to be able to take their eyes off you."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the moment they did, he felt a flush of heat rise to his face. But if Y/N noticed, she didn't let on. She simply smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made Simon's chest tighten.

"Guess that means you'll have to keep an even closer eye on me then," she teased, but there was a warmth in her voice that suggested something deeper.

Simon nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from her. "Always do."