Simon "Ghost" Riley oneshots

Sunshine

The gentle rhythm of the rain outside was a soothing backdrop, falling against the window in soft, rhythmic taps. The world felt distant, as if the storm had created a cocoon just for the two of you, cutting you off from everything but the here and now. Inside, the room was warm, dimly lit by the soft glow of a single lamp on the corner table. Shadows stretched across the walls, flickering faintly as the rain continued to pour.

You sat on the oversized couch, your legs tucked under you, cocooned in a blanket, while Ghost was beside you, silent and still. His presence was as grounding as it was overwhelming. Even in these moments of quiet, when the world wasn't demanding anything of him, his presence filled the space effortlessly. He sat close, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the weight of his arm resting casually on the back of the couch, just inches from your shoulder.

It wasn't often that you found him like this, completely relaxed. His mask was off, tossed carelessly on the table next to a glass of whiskey he hadn't touched yet. His face was softened in the low light, the hard lines of his jaw softened by the faint shadow of stubble, his intense eyes reflecting the glow of the room. He looked younger, less hardened, like the man he was before the world got to him.

You stole a glance at him, admiring the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from him even now. His eyes flicked toward you, catching you in the act, and a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It was a rare expression for him, one that made your heart flutter every time you saw it.

"Something on your mind?" His voice was low, gravelly, the kind of sound that made the air between you seem thick with unspoken emotion.

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. "Just thinking," you replied, your voice barely above a murmur. You shifted slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, and leaned a little closer to him, finding comfort in his proximity.

"Yeah? About what?" His voice was still soft, but there was a playful edge to it now, the kind he only used when the two of you were alone, in these private moments where he let his guard down.

"About you," you admitted, your eyes dropping to his hand resting on the back of the couch, just within reach.

He raised an eyebrow, that smirk still playing on his lips. "Good things, I hope."

"Always," you whispered, before shifting closer, your body naturally gravitating toward his. You felt the solid warmth of him as your shoulder brushed against his arm, and he responded by wrapping his arm around you, pulling you gently into his side.

The blanket slipped off your shoulders, and you felt a chill for only a second before his warmth enveloped you. His arm was strong, protective, and when he pulled you closer, you settled easily against him, your head resting on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath you, the rise and fall of his breath. It was a sound and feeling that never failed to calm you, no matter what kind of day you'd had.

His hand found its way to your back, tracing lazy patterns through the fabric of your shirt. You sighed softly, melting into his touch, your body relaxing completely in his embrace. His fingers moved slowly, almost absentmindedly, but there was a tenderness in the way he touched you, a quiet intimacy that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

For a while, you both sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the rain filling the room. You could feel his breath against your hair, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale, and it made you feel safe, like nothing could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms.

After a while, you shifted slightly, turning so you could look up at him. His eyes were half-lidded, relaxed, but still watchful. You could tell he was letting himself enjoy this rare moment of peace, but there was always a part of him that was on edge, always alert. That was just who he was, and you'd long accepted it.