𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
Summary: You were never one for grand gestures displaying your love for the world to see. Love for you was in the little things, especially little notes scattered across your home for Simon to find. But for his birthday you do something a little different.
OR
You read a handwritten poem to Simon and he melts in your arms, with a little extra surprise as well :))
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Word Count: 2.1K
Warnings: None, it's really, really, soft. I can't emphasize that enough.
Author's Note: Wrote this on the way to my grandparents' house, got carsick lol. Came up with this idea on the bus though, it's really cute in my opinion, hehe. Enjoy!!
If there was one thing you were sure of in this world, it was that you loved Simon. Without hesitation, you could say that, and despite the infinite number of words in the thousands of languages of this world, nothing would be enough to describe the extent of your love.
But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try.
You weren’t…big on talking about the storm of feelings that swirled in your heart, nor one for grand gestures encapsulating how you felt. Perhaps that was one of the many reasons you and Simon clicked so well because neither was he. You both found comfort in the collections of little things; small, considerate gestures that brought that tiny spark of warmth each time.
It could be something like bringing one another tea after a long day, murmuring so softly to each other, because your words were for each other only. Or perhaps making pancakes in the morning, laughing in embarrassment as you realize that Simon had caught you singing into the spatula. Or soft touches, skin on skin in gentle strokes as you breathed down from your highs, matching smiles gracing your lips.
Love is in the little things. That much was true, at least for you and Simon.
But you were always one to take that extra step, that little push that meant just a little bit more, but still not yet toeing the line of grandness. You loved to write, especially to him.
Little notes scattered around the house, small poems you come up with as you watch Simon in the early morning light, as he does mundane tasks like reloading the dishwasher or folding the laundry. Just because you didn’t like speaking your truth didn’t mean you wouldn’t make it known.
And just because your notes were small didn’t mean that it meant anything less than the entire world to Simon.
Every time he spotted a little note of yours his heart did a little skip, that feeling of childish giddiness he missed out on when he was young seeping into his very bones. Sometimes you would catch him as he read your notes, and without fail his eyes would sparkle like woven gold itself as he breathed in your words like they were his salvation.
He would always find you after every one, reciprocating in his own way whether it would be a kiss pressed to your lips, or your forehead, or simply sweeping you into his strong arms.
Your love language was your words, his was touch. Maybe they weren’t grand gestures, but it was more than enough.
~
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, the weather warm enough to only have to wear light sweaters as opposed to thick winter jackets. The sun was shining down on you and Simon as you went about finishing errands for the day.
The last of the groceries had been packed into the trunk, and you were both tired enough and wanted to be in the comfort of your shared home.
Despite the normalcy the day held however, today was actually Simon’s birthday. He was never one to celebrate it much, maybe a nice drink and dinner, and when he wasn’t on a mission, a night with you held close. Simply existing in each other’s space would be better than anything else for Simon.
That didn’t stop you from buying him a little cake however, it was Pac-Man themed, with little ghosts frosted on. You thought it was silly and cute, fitting given his callsign. It would definitely get a chuckle out of him no matter how ridiculous he thought it was.
“Man, I really should’ve gotten those gummy bears,” you say, a pout on your lips as you watch Simon hang up the car keys.
“I did say you would regret putting them back, doll,” he says with a low chuckle, moving the grocery bags to the kitchen to begin putting them away. You trail behind him, poking his side playfully as he shoots you a glare which only makes you laugh in response.
“We do not need more snacks in this household, Si. The pantries are suffering as is,” you say as you try to find a place for the Pringles can you hold.
“Your loss then, but you know damn well they’d be gone within the day.”
“If I tell myself enough times that they won’t be, maybe it’ll come true,” you glance at him with a grin and you watch as his eyes crinkle, likely the same expression on his face, though his balaclava was blocking it.
“Hey, let’s get this off you, hm~?” you ask, making your way over to him. You grasp the edge of it in a silent question, and he only kneels down with a slight nod.
“I’m not that short you know,” you say with a snort, pulling the fabric up and off his head.
“Tell yourself that, love,” he says, and only now can you see that cheeky expression on his face that you kiss away.
“I have a little something for you, after the groceries though,” you say, patting his shoulder lightly as you watch him stand back up. His eyes shine with something akin to curiosity as he hums, turning back to help you put stuff away.
You wrote notes, that much was true. From your vantage point in the kitchen, you could spot at least three colourful notes lining the walls alone, but it wasn’t often that you said the words yourself. It felt…vulnerable, there was no way to hide the feelings that overflowed from your voice. But even moreso, those notes allowed for time, time to find those words that captured how you truly felt, or at least as close you could get to that truth.
But you knew Simon yearned for it, you couldn’t count the times he had told you how much he loved your voice, and hearing the words of your poems scattered through the house from your very lips would make it all the sweeter.
“Your voice is like honey,” he had said one night as you simply held each other close, watching some random documentary playing on the TV. You were rambling on about the facts you knew about the animal in question, elephants or something.
“What?” you responded, confused as you paused your crash course in elephants for a moment.
“I don’t know how else to describe it other than honey. Nectar maybe. Sweet, syrupy, all encapsulating. I could get lost in it,” he said simply, and you felt your cheeks heat up at his admission. He only watched your expression change from awe to embarrassment, and couldn’t help but pull you closer to his side at your adorableness.
It made sense, the way he was so enraptured by you every time you spoke, as though your voice was an enchanting song that he couldn’t help but pay attention to. He had asked you a couple times to read out your poems but you always shied away from it. He didn’t mind though, never pushed, but deep down Simon truly wants to hear the words come from your sweet lips. But he would take what he could get, if this is what you were comfortable with, then your honeyed truths written on colourful sticky notes were more than enough.
But today was the day you would grant his wishes.
~
Finally, the groceries were packed away. Trying to find space for everything was…a task. Costco was a dangerous place.
“What was it you wanted to show me, love?” he asked, turning to face you now, hands grasping your hips and soothing little circles into them.
“Sit down on the couch, I’ll be there in a sec,” you say, nudging him a bit.
“Oh?” his lips turn up in a smirk before you huff out a little laugh.
“Not that, you freak. Not yet at least, behave,” you say before turning towards the bedroom, your heart beating a little faster now.
You speed in, grabbing a little sheet of paper from the bedside drawer. This one had taken you days to write, your best attempt at condensing all that you felt for Simon in this piece of writing. But at long last, you were happy with it.
Making your way back over to the living room, Simon comes into view sat comfortably on the couch.
“Good job,” you praise, and he scoffs lightly but you don’t fail to see the tips of his ears redden which makes you grin in turn.
You situate yourself down on his lap and his hands gravitate to your waist immediately. Your heart beats a bit faster now as you lean into him so your head is over his shoulder, face out of his sight.
“Just…stay there, alright? Stay there and listen,” you say softly before taking a deep breath. “I’m a little nervous so don’t judge me if I stutter alright?”
“Never,” he reassures you, and you take one more deep breath as you feel him hug you close in comfort.
“I...love you. I know you know this with the words that line our walls and the whispers in the dark of night, but I truly do,” you say, and where his chest is pressed to yours you feel it pick up in rhythm.
“When you kiss me awake as the golden light of the sun shines through the cracks of the blinds. When you nudge me to the inside of the sidewalk when we’re out on a walk, or when you wash my hair when I’m too tired to even think, I love you,” you swallow as you try to ease the beating of your heart that now rested in your throat, but Simon only smooths his hand over your back patiently.
“When we drink tea together in the middle of the night when we can’t sleep, or when you laugh at all my stupid jokes and innuendos, even when you heckle me in the rare times when you let me drive, I really love you,” he laughs a bit at that.
“I think most of all is when you come home after a long mission. Even despite being tired, aching, and exhausted when you come home, it means that you made it back to me, safe and sound.”
“What I’m trying to say is that it’s in the little things, I think. But they form a collective of something great, something beyond you and I that bleeds out beyond the frontiers of this world,” your breath shudders as your words reach a climax.
“I think that above all else we have a love of destiny, written in the stars by the divine entities in the heavens above themselves and tied off in a bow with the strings of fate, that’s the only way I could explain how perfectly we mould together as a pair.”
He hears you sniffle a bit and nudges you forward so he could see your face. Concern washes over his features but you just shake your head, assurance that you were okay, more than okay.
"Every day I thank the fates that I met you, and that you let me worm my way into your heart that was once guarded so tight. In the journey that is life itself, I am thankful that it led me to you,"
“In this universe, and every other universe parallel to our own, I am yours. Irrevocably, impossibly yours, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you say with a smile despite the tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You reach back into your pocket at that moment, and a small burgundy box appears in your hand. You watch as Simon’s eyes grow wide in response, swirling in infinite emotion, but most of all, love.
“So, Simon Riley, would you do me the honour of becoming my husband?” you say, tears streaming down your face now as you open the box that had been weighing heavily in your pocket all day.
It was a simple little ring, swirling black and silver that you felt represented Simon perfectly.
Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you wait for his response, and before you know it you’re swept into his arms, face pressed into your neck before he pulls away. Then all he says is “Yes”, before he’s capturing your lips in his own. It’s all tenderness and all encompassing; it’s all the words that Simon can’t say but wants to show nevertheless.
When you pull away you’re breathless, and all you can gasp out is “Really?”
Simon doesn’t say anything for a moment, only takes your face into the hands roughened through time in war, yet holds you no less gently. He wipes the streaks of tears staining your face before pressing his forehead to yours.
“Yes.”
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