Shoot The Guy First.

How is Din with 'No Armor'? pls I need it for my project

@USERGIF​ 1 YEAR CELEBRATION: SHUFFLE CHALLENGE DAY 5: Free Choice | Multi-Gif Layout | Character Profile ↳ Din Djarin’s Battlefront II-Inspired Profile

Him always glaring at Crosshair 😩

#Howzerisback

BABE IS BACK

and a lil grumpy. ;) but look at those lips! nomnomnom

and as @drafthorsemath said... he's got a new tiddy pack!

Tumblr is not a social media, it's an online psych ward.

the best ghost x reader fics i’ve found so far on ao3! ✨

possession by sweetdeceit : dark, stalker!simon, lots of delicious dubcon, full of severe psychological issues and trauma. love it so so so much.

refugee by danceofthesevenveils: dark and suicidal simon with severe ptsd. i’ve reread this and its second part maybe a thousand times.

these eyes were made for lookin at you (only you) by wttcsms: savior, obsessive simon <3 traumatized reader <3 baby making <3 love it so much it’s so good. comfort fic. also all of the following parts

home is what you make of it by buttholesupreme: more savior complex and obsessive simon, more baby making. he’s so BEASTLY i love him sm

ghost prompts by emphemeron: a series of prompt by my favorite cod writer, each one is better than the last. all of her works are insane pls read them all i’m begging

squeeze me, i squeak! by charlie_m: this… awoke something in me.

long days by aclowder: “you’re not a whore.. are you?”

they taste like bourbon by sweetdeceit: my gateway drug into ghoap x reader and soap x reader, and now i’m hopelessly addicted to him

hunter posting 💀💀 smthn i threw together while coping w school 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️

John Price Masterlist (on going)

Here is a compiled list of my John Price x fem!reader series. domestic fluff and angst, some smut. Listed in order of events. Here is a family outline.

Unmarried:

Indy

The Second You Left

A Second Without You

You Do It Better

Safe Word NSFW

Once You’ve Seen What it’s Like

Skinny Dipping

Sweet Treat

Missed You

Early Morning

Breakdown

Should Have Proposed Sooner (NSFW)

Married:

Why Wait

Paint

Flash drive (NSFW)

Lost Time

April

Scotch

Quiet (NSFW)

No Wandering Around

Cake

I’ll Handle It

Waters Gone Cold

Hindsight

Country Life

I’ve Got You

Family Vacation

Mayhem

Evelyn

Snow Cone

Privacy

Rendezvous (NSFW)

Oops

Interruption

Maker Her Happy

Halloween

The Holiday

Mending Bridges

Lily

Jealousy

Jealousy Part 2

Dance

Striker

Expulsion

Trouble Maker

One last chance

Raspberries

Simple Things

Sleeping Together

Pet Peeves

The Giggles

might need this in the future so... reblog

cod twt visuals part 3

WARNINGS : NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, f!reader, the links are literally p#rn, proceed at your own risk

CHARACTERS: ghost, soap, gaz, alejandro, price, könig, keegan

If the links don't work for you try logging in on twt, or opening the links from your phone's browser

ghost

❥ ghost bouncing you up and down his cock while you take a shower together- it started out innocent enough, with you just washing each other, but as his hand brushed past your breasts, his cock immediately twitched, hardening fast against your belly and he cursed under his breath, apologizing nd saying that he ruined a soft moment- but you just shake your head, "I've been wet for a while now.. you're so pretty Simon," he almost LOOOOOSES his mind

❥ anal with ghost:)

❥ p sure this one was also in a previous part but it's sOOOO GOOODDDDD like this is exactly how i envision ghost would fuck, holding you by the waist, with your back arched, nd all you can do is moan<33 "Jeeesus.. fuckin' look at you,"

soap

❥ THISSSS BUT HE'S WEARING HIS GHOST MASK yeah, no yeah. goes absolutely feral when you start throwing your ass back at him, "Oh fuck, baby yeah..." "Get that dick,"

❥ soap doing what he does best- sucking your tits and fingering you at the same timee, loves when you grab him by the hair and angle his head upwards, so that you can push your mouth against his, panting against his lips as you make out, hips grinding down on his fingers "Fuckin' love these tits, fuuck,"

❥ riding soap:(((( he's being such a good boy for once and lets you take charge<3

gaz

❥ kyle is a certified pussy eater and i won't hear anything different- he LIVES to go down on you, sucking and lapping at your cunt with a smirk on his face. Sometimes when he feels a lil cheeky he'll try to talk to you without pulling back- and his words get all muffled, and it's the lewdest thing ever, "S fcking goodmmf baaaby, God." "Why do you taste so good, huh?"

❥ he loooves touching you over your panties that's it that's the post

❥ yup yup yup

alejandro

❥ he's a groaner and we all know this

❥ no but imagine you rile him up so bad that he gets fucking rough with you, fucking you dumb till you stop being a brat- making sure to grab you by the throat the minute you start running your mouth again

❥ more rough alejandro omfg.🤭

price

❥ you ALREADY KNOWWWW side fucking with price<33333

❥ price fucking you in the car immediately after you come and pick him up from the base after mooonths of not seeing each other:( "Christ, I missed you honey.." "Did you miss me, hm? Miss this cock?"

❥ SAME VID AS IN THE FIRST PART I THINK, but some of yall cant open it so maybe you can from this one<3

❥ try not to get caught fucking on base with price FAILED again bc of how loud you're both moaning, and he still thinks y'all are being careful 💀 pls (ghost is literally traumatized and avoids eye contact with you at all costs)

könig

❥ please, PLEASE let könig fuck your thighs, he'll go feral omfg

❥ not a visual, but könig touching himself nd thinking about you???? yeah you best believe he's loud af. Pretty baby almost cries when he makes himself cum, all the while thinking that it's your pussy that's taking it all in<3

❥ könig always makes sure he preps you well, and what better way than to use his mouth??

bonus

keegan

❥ keegan can never help himself whenever he wakes up next to you, you just look too fucking good- his cock hardening at the sight of you, still naked from the night before and he curses, his hands sliding down your back to cup your ass, whispering against your neck "Wake up baby.. I need you,"

❥ no cause why would keegan do this?? he's a fucking menace i just know it

❥ he would have cum inside you anyway, but the fact that you asked for it? it makes his mind fog up, literally can't think of anything else besides you and how fucking good your pussy feels around his cock<3

<3

Reader and ghost fake dating for a mission with a twist.It’s a masquerade ball so Ghost wears a fancy little mask instead of his usual skull. Reader gets worked up seeing him in a tux with his hair and part of his face out so they ditch their mics and abandon the mission to go fuck in a bathroom. Just a thought… 🤭🤭

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Master of Puppets

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

[“Master of Puppets” by Metallica]

[18+]

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• summary - you and ghost getting all dressed up for a ball ends in you and ghost fucking in the bathroom lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.6k • warnings - fem!reader, unprotected piv, semi-public sex, handjobs idk, ghost is a little possessive of his sergeant, strong language

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ok you requested this while my requests were closed and usually i just delete them BUT you're lucky i'm horny for this idea

i'm imagining him in a peaky blinders style three-piece suit and i'm going insane why do i do this to myself

You weren't a stranger to the "fake dating" type of mission. You had done it with Gaz just a few months prior to infiltrate enemy operations at a charity event in Dubai.

So, when that exact type of mission came around again, you were prepared for what it would take.

"Playing boyfriend-girlfriend again, Garrick?" You quipped at Gaz a few minutes before Price's usual briefing.

He smiled, but shook his head. "Not me, sarge."

You made a face of confusion, before Gaz threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing directly at Ghost. Ghost raised his head from the files he had been reading.

"Seriously?" You gaped, surprised.

Ghost shook his head slowly, muttering out a sarcastic comment, "Dial down the excitement, sergeant."

Now, you stood in the bathroom of your hotel room, smoothing your hands down the fabric of your dress, admiring yourself. It was an absolutely stunning dress that clung to you in all the right ways. Designer label, too, leaving you wondering how the hell Price got his hands on it. Probably Laswell.

There was a light knock on your door before it opened, and you walked into the bedroom so you could slip your heels on. Soap and Price entered, dressed impeccably in suits. You stood at the foot of the bed as they walked in, and you admired them with a big smile.

"You two look very handsome." You said.

"Thank you," Price said, adjusting his tie. "You look absolutely radiant, sarge."

You laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed so you could fasten your heels to your feet, as well as strap your handgun to the strap around your upper thigh.

Soap gaped at you, eyes raking down the entirety of your body while you exposed a leg, tightening the holster around it.

"You're smokin', lass," he said, shock edging his words. "Ghost won't be able to focus."

You rolled your eyes, sliding your gun into place before standing up, settling your dress over top of it, trying your best to make the imprint not obvious.

The three of you left the hotel ten minutes later. A black SUV with tinted windows waited outside, and Soap opened the door for you. Price grabbed hold of your arm before you slid inside, leaning close to your ear.

"Remember, you and Ghost are there to get intel. You don't engage with any of the targets, understood? Soap and I will be nearby if you run into any trouble."

"Understood." You nodded, before clambering into the black SUV. Soap mouthed good luck to you before he turned away, just as Ghost walked slowly down the steps, Gaz a few metres behind.

Your eyes widened. He looked fucking good.

A black three piece suit, complete with the waistcoat and everything. He wasn't wearing gloves, exposing large, strong hands with prominent veins and silver rings around his fingers. What shocked you the most, however, was the silver mask covering most of the top half of his face. It shined in the light of the hotel entrance. As he neared the car, you could see his lips, his jawline, his chin, scars littering the flesh.

You pressed your thighs together.

Price said something to Ghost, and then Soap did as well. Finally, Ghost looked into the car where you waited patiently, and you watched as his lips parted in what could be best described as a small gasp.

"Sergeant..." He trailed off, taking in your dress, your face, your body, you.

"Lieutenant," you nodded at him. "You look nice. Very dapper."

He grunted deeply, sliding into the seat next to you. His body radiated heat that you could feel. He smelt good, too. You bit your lip as his strong thigh pressed against yours.

With a final few good lucks from the boys, the car was pulling away from the hotel and heading for the venue. You and Ghost didn't exchange much conversation, but as you looked out the window, you felt the heat of his gaze on you. You turned your head, catching his bright eyes following the curves of your dress.

You ignored the flip in your stomach at the weight of desire in his eyes. "Like what you see?" You joked, and his eyes snapped up to look at you.

He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you, before he fished something out of his jacket pocket. He held it out to you, still not quite meeting your eyes. It was a silver mask, much like his, but a bit smaller, with finer details carved around the edges. It was really pretty.

"It's a masquerade ball, so I figured you'd need this." Ghost grumbled, retracting his hands straight away as you took the mask from him.

"Matching?" You smiled.

"I figured... I mean— it was Soap's idea, so if you don't want... you don't, you know—"

"I love it, sir, I do," you said softly, and he sighed deeply through his nose. You then angled your body away from him, pressing the mask to your face with the ribbons dangling either side. "Do you mind tying it for me?"

Ghost said nothing, but took hold of the two ribbons and brought them to the back of your head. He carefully tied a bow, keeping your mask secure against your face. You could feel the soft rhythm of his breathing against your back, and the warmth of his bare hands near the base of your neck.

"Done?" You asked, looking at yourself in the windows reflection.

Ghost swallowed thickly, ignoring something stirring deep within the pit of his stomach. "Yeah."

•º•

You felt somewhat confident walking into the event with Ghost on your arm. All eyes turned towards the handsomely dressed man, clearly well-built beneath the suit and obviously attractive beneath the silver mask. He captured this attention like a natural, which you couldn't come to grips with. He was so calm, collected. You felt as though you were going to burst into tears at any moment.

But you didn't. You wouldn't. Not with the way Ghost circled an arm around your lower back, a hand pressed hot above your arse. Not with the way he kept you pressed to your side, his towering frame shielding you from at least one line of prying eyes.

But, you felt eyes on you too. Eyes on the pretty girl next to the man with the silver mask. They admired you from close and afar, watching the way your dress dipped around your body, and the way your silver mask glittered under the light of the crystal chandeliers.

"Alright, sarge?" Ghost whispered, thumb rubbing circles on your lower back.

"Yep," you squeaked out, the movement of his hand making your body grow hot. "You good?"

"Mhm." He hummed, already surveying the room.

—Okay, you two. Try and get as much information out of these rich-listers as you can—, Price's voice filtered in through your earpiece. —I would say don't draw attention to yourselves, but it seems it's a bit late for that. You're probably the youngest, most attractive pair in that room tonight—.

"Aw, cap, you flatter us." You joked, snagging two flutes of champagne from the tray of a passing waitress.

—Just don't get distracted—. Price grumbled, before his voice was gone from your ear.

You held a glass of champagne out for Ghost, who just stared at it. You were already raising yours to your lips, drinking the bubbling liquid in small sips. Finally, he took it from you, but didn't drink.

"Shouldn't be drinking on the job." He said gruffly as you finished your drink, placing the empty glass on a nearby table.

"Says who?" You question, taking the second flute from him since he obviously wasn't going to drink it.

"Says me."

"Pfft, you're not the boss of me." You quipped, downing the second glass of champagne. It was mostly to steel your nerves— which were on fire with anxiety.

He rolled his eyes. "I am the boss of you."

"Oh yeah."

•º•

An hour or so went by and you found yourself sat at the bar. It was a pretty place, decked out in gold and glittering crystal lights. You'd spent the past hour gathering as much information about your rich-list targets as you could, with said information being filtered back through your ear-piece, directly back to Gaz in the hotel room.

Ghost had vanished to investigate further, leaving you alone at the bar, a small glass of water in your hand. You'd thrown back a few flutes of champagne and you realised that water was probably your best bet for the rest of the night.

"What's a pretty lady like you sitting here without company?" Came a voice behind you, and you rolled your eyes.

What a cringe line. Embarrassing.

You plastered a polite smile across your face as a man took the barstool beside you, a simple black mask over his features.

"My company's just gone outside for a smoke." You lied naturally, smile not breaking.

"And he's left you all alone?"

"Mhm, but I'm perfectly fine being by myself," you said. "But it was nice to meet you." You finished with the hopes that he'd take the fucking hint and leave.

He didn't take the hint.

"Well, at least let me by you a drink." He offered.

You shook your head. "I'm fine, thank you."

He took that surprisingly well, but his stare was lingering and uncomfortable as it travelled down the length of your body. You felt goosebumps ripple across your exposed flesh, a grimace threatening to overtake your practised smile.

"You look stunning, by the way," he said. "Absolutely beautiful. Are you sure I can't buy you a drink?"

You sighed. "The drinks are free and, no thank you."

"Are you sure—?"

You felt Ghost's presence before he even spoke.

You felt the looming warmth press to your back, the tower of mass that overshadowed your frame. You couldn't help but lean back a bit, his chest and upper abdomen pressing firmly along your spine. Then, a built arm draped over your shoulders, wrapping just above your tits and pulling you closer against him.

"Can I help you?" Ghost asked, voice even, accent thick.

The man had to crane his head to look up at Ghost. "Just keeping the pretty lady company."

Ghost grunted. "I suggest you move on. Keep someone else company, why don't you."

The man swallowed nervously. "I didn't—"

"Go." Ghost ordered simply, and the man was scurrying away before you could even blink.

You looked up at Ghost, top of your head leaning against his chest. "Thanks." You muttered, waiting for him to let go of you.

He didn't. His hand and arm held you closer, his eyes dragging down your face and your body. His other hand came to rest on your jaw, his thumb trailing along the bone. Then it swiped upwards, along your cheek before pressing to your lips, smearing the shimmering gloss.

You were frozen.

"Ghost—?"

"You're the prettiest woman in this fucking room, you know that?" He muttered lowly, thumb skirting along the seam of your lips.

You didn't answer, just stared up at him. His rings were cold against the side of your face.

The moment was thick with tension, and heat pooled in your belly. You felt his chest rise and fall, a bit quicker than it did in the car ride to the event. His pupils were blown, too, between the slots in the mask, and he ran the point of his tongue across his bottom lip.

—Aww, how romantic—, Soap's voice burst in your ear, and both you and Ghost jolted.

"Fucking hell, Johnny," Ghost cursed, grip on your face tighter. "I'm turning this fucking mic off. I'm sick of hearing your voice."

Soap laughed. —You wouldn't dare—

Ghost switched his ear-piece off, before closing his fingers around yours too. He switched it off, and Soap's voice died in your ear.

You gasped. "Ghost—"

He hauled you off of the seat while you were mid-sentence, planting you on your feet with your chest now pressed to his.

"Follow me." He growled.

You could feel his cock hardening in his suit trousers.

•º•

Ghost locked the door of the bathroom behind you, before he was slamming you against it, hiking your legs around his waist. His mouth smashed to yours, and you gasped, barely having enough time to respond before his tongue was surging inwards.

The kiss choked you, full of emotion. Ghost's large frame towering over you, caging you to the door. One of his hands gripped your thigh, keeping your body pinned between his and the door. His other hand gripped the underside of your jaw, angling your face so he could press deeper into the kiss.

The material of the silver masks you were both wearing bumped together with each desperate movement of your mouths. You were able to respond now; winding your arms around his shoulders, delving one hand into his hair, pulling his face closer to yours. Ghost groaned into the kiss as you tugged at the roots of his hair, and he pulled away to look down at you.

"Such a tease," he muttered, before dragging his lips across your jaw and down your neck. "Wearing this pretty dress, too."

His lips found the strap on your shoulder, teeth skimming the material before he was kissing along your collarbone. You angled your face upwards so he could suck along the soft expanse of your throat. He still gripped your jaw firmly as he did so, and he moved your head himself when he wanted to nip at the sensitive skin below your ear.

"Fucking stunning," he said, breathless, before he was stepping back to get a better look at you. You squirmed under his gaze, drawing your thighs together as your core gained a heartbeat. You whined, and he chuckled lowly, dropping your leg off of his waist. "So pretty."

"Simon..." You pleaded, his real name slipping past your lips before you could stop yourself. Your body was simmering hot with arousal, your core aching just by the way Ghost was looking at you.

Not to mention how fucking good he looked in that suit.

Clearly, you were having much the same effect on him.

He huffed deeply, unbuttoning his trousers, his hard cock imprinted through the material. You swallowed as you watched his trousers drop slightly as he pulled his cock out of his boxers, eyes raking up and down your body. And you weren't even showing anything yet.

"Acting like a Victorian man," you couldn't help but joke. "Seeing a sliver of shoulder and a bit of ankle's got you worked up?"

You laughed lightly, seeing Ghost roll his eyes behind the mask. He grunted, the closest thing to a verbal reply, as he gripped his cock and moved closer to you. Your breath hitched as he closed the gap, kissing you hard.

His cock pressed to your abdomen, warm and hard through the expensive material of your dress. You whined softly against Ghost's tongue, moving a hand to enclose around his length also.

Ghost choked on a low moan, pulling out of the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. The both of you staying like that, eyes directed down between your bodies as you gripped his cock, hand right beside his own.

You used the beads of pre-cum pearling at his slit to ease your movements, fisting a hand up and down, making Ghost grumble deep in his chest. Foreheads still pressed together, you both watched as you jerked him off. His hand remained tight at the base, unmoving despite your best efforts to encourage him.

The bathroom was filled with his soft noises; noises that ignited the fire in your belly further, your core throbbing, soaking your underwear. You hummed softly at him, some kind of a whine, as you pumped him faster, feeling him twitch in your hand.

He groaned and grunted softly, his breaths deep and laboured. His cock twitched with each of your movements, drops of pre rolling in a steady pattern along a vein. You collected them in the grooves of your palm, your movements sliding, sending soft, wet clicking sounds into the bathroom as well.

It felt like Ghost was entranced with the way he was looking at your hand moving along his cock. So when he felt his orgasm creeping up the back of his spine, he internally cursed.

He grabbed your wrist and pried your hand from his cock with a hiss, screwing his eyes closed as the feeling of release seeping away. He'd just edged himself, and he didn't even fucking mean too.

"Fuck, gotta be inside you," he muttered, kissing your forehead as he changed positions. "Not gonna last like this."

He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around him. You helped him wriggle the material of your dress around your waist, and he hummed in satisfaction. You braced one hand around his broad shoulders, the other on the door at your side for stability.

"Fucking hell..." Ghost ran a finger up your slit over your underwear. The material was damp with your arousal, and the feeling of his finger made you squirm in his hold.

"Simon, please—"

"Absolutely soaked..." He wasn't really listening to you. He was too busy playing with the material of your underwear, rubbing up your folds and feeling the way your arousal soaked through.

You quickly moved your hand from the door and fisted a handful of his hair, urging his head to look up. He grunted, gritting his teeth as he finally looked you dead in the eye while you tugged at his hair.

"Simon." You said, commanding as much of his attention as you could.

He licked his lips. "Hm?"

"Fuck me."

"Christ," he whispered, the hand stroking you through your underwear hooking beneath the material. He simply pulled it to the side, exposing your wet cunt. His pupils dilated. "Fucking Christ."

"Don't bring Christ into this." You joked again, and Ghost grunted deeply in response, giving you no warning before he was easing his cock into you.

You spluttered around a moan as his cock filled you abruptly, your hands moving to grip Ghost's shoulders tightly. Your head fell forward, resting against his chest, and you moaned loudly.

His cock nudged that spot inside you that had your cunt fluttering around him, making him groan. He grit his teeth to restrict most of the noises, but he couldn't help himself. Not with the way your cunt was squeezing his cock, all wet and warm and tight.

"Come on, sergeant, come on," Ghost whispered, moving his hips back and slamming into you again. He began to build pace and rhythm with each one of his thrusts. "Let me hear those pretty noises. Come on."

You moaned again, high and breathy as the head of his cock punched the air out of your fucking lungs. He fucked you against the door, the wet sounds of your arousal spurring his movements further.

"Simon, gotta be quiet. Someone m-might hear— ah, fuck—" You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle the moans being torn from your throat by the way Ghost was fucking you.

"Let them hear," he whispered in your ear. "Let them hear how good I make you feel, eh? Let them hear how good you are at taking my cock."

Your head fell backwards against the wooden door, eyes rolling as a string of whimpers were pulled from your lips. Ghost rutted into you, grunting softly as he did, listening to the sounds from your mouth and your cunt. He held your hips, keeping you pinned to the door and unable to move so he could slam deeper and deeper inside you.

You arousal was pooling around his cock with each thrust, now dripping down the insides of your thighs. You could faintly feel your underwear in the crease of your thigh, pushed haphazardly out of the way to make room for Ghost. But you didn't care— you were too focused on the huge fucking cock that was inside you right now.

You couldn't help the whines and soft moans that left your mouth. Your body was burning up, stomach drawing tight as your impending orgasm grew more intense with each rut of Ghost's cock.

"Simon..." You moaned, and Ghost had to compose himself so he didn't come right then and there. You sounded so good, so fucking pretty moaning his name like that.

"Yeah, baby? Feel's good?" He murmured against your skin as he kissed along your jaw. "You wanna come?"

You nodded, fingernails scratching down his shoulders. You whimpered desperately, legs quivering in his hold.

"Let go, pretty girl. Come 'round my cock... that's it."

You came with a loud moan of his name, and he slammed his mouth to yours to swallow it whole. Your cunt spasmed around his cock as he fucked you roughly through your orgasm, heat blooming across your skin. He pulled his face away from yours, lips brushing as he panted, chasing his own high.

"F-fuck," he whispered, releasing inside you, followed by a carnal groan into the curve of your neck. He filled you, hot and thick, and the sensations of it flooding your womb made you close your eyes. He didn't pull out for a while. He just held you to the door, breathing deeply. "Alright, sergeant?"

"Yeah... fine..." You breathed. "We should, um, probably get back to the mission."

"Give me a minute." He groaned, still deep inside you, making you laugh.

•º•

When you did finally leave the bathroom, you made yourself look as presentable as you could before you left a couple of minutes after Ghost. You shoved your ear-piece back into your ear and turned it on. Immediately, you were greeted by Soap's voice.

—Good bathroom break, sarge?—

"Shut up, Soap."

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lazy writing sorry i'm tired lol

I'mma add Joel Miller to this list

my favorite genre is stupid idiot fathers protecting their stupid idiot little children

I need more fics like this 🙏

Gardening

Summary: Ghost is moving into a new apartment and you just so happen to be the building's owner.

A/N: First dip into writing second person (I think that's the right term?) and I'm not sure if I don't like it or if it was just difficult for me. People who've read my Price fic in first person, please weigh in here. I need to know if this sounds weird or if it's just me. I might rewrite the whole thing in first person and see which feels better.

Warnings: Not much here...overworking? Slight fainting. Not edited.

Word Count: 3k+

The first time he sees you, your hands are elbow-deep in dirt and there’s more smeared over your face. It’s late afternoon and he’s heaving a duffel over his shoulder to head into his new apartment. It’s been a long time since he spent long in an apartment at all and by the time he came back to his old one, the building was being foreclosed. He’d never been one to couch surf and he wasn’t about to start now. Certainly not for a month. Jump to seeing you covered in dirt in front of his new apartment building.

He hesitates on the steps, watching you a moment longer while you grumble to yourself. You’re on your knees digging through a flowerbed as if digging for diamonds. “You alright?” He surprises himself by asking and almost keeps walking with the expectation that you won’t even answer, but you turn your face up to him in an instant. Your arm raises to block out the sun and you don’t even flinch as dirt rains down on you.

“Fine, thanks. Just a few roots being stubborn.” You give him a warm, welcoming smile that keeps him still a few moments longer. Long enough for you to scan the duffel on his back and the few boxes set on the ground by his truck. “Moving in?” He hesitates a moment before answering. He’s not in the habit of giving away information freely, but the conclusion is obvious enough. He nods once.

“Then you’re Simon Riley.” You pull your hands from the dirt as if they’re the ones who have taken root and wipe them off on your jeans while getting onto your feet. Trepidation begins creeping into his chest and he grips the strap of his bag over his shoulder a little tighter. “I’m the building’s owner. Nice to meet you in person.” You offer your dirt-smudged hand as you give him your name and he laxes slightly. He takes your hand, seeing approval flash through your eyes. He wonders briefly if offering your dirty hand was a test that he just passed.

“I’ll walk you to your place and make sure you have your keys. Need help carrying anything?” You offer and it’s clear you mean it.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He replies evenly and you nod before leading the way and expecting him to follow.

“I run a tight ship. Hope you read the rules about staying here because if you break any, I’ll throw you out on your ass.” You move around the entrance easily, clearly knowing where everything is without having to look. A little glance over your shoulder is all you give him to make sure he’s listening and you catch the slight upward tilt of his lips.

“Yes, ma’am. Read over things twice.” He answers honestly and you hum with approval before guiding him up the stairs. Something about the way you hold yourself, the easy confidence, the way you say orders and expect them to be followed, reminds him of Price and puts him a little more at ease.

“You’re on the edge of the building, so only one neighbor on the north side and another across the hall. Delaney is quiet and keeps to herself more often than not, but I let her play music on the roof with friends on Saturdays.” Your voice fills the halls and he notes that the place is very well-kept and clean. Even the windows are clear and gleaming. You go on, “Mr. Cruz across the hall can be a bit miserly, but other than mumbling about the newspaper and the state of the world, he’s harmless. His wife, on the other hand, is a shameless gossip. So I hope you’re not too bothered if you come home and see her peeking at you from her door.”

Simon hums a small laugh. “Don’t mind it. I’m not that interesting.”

“Pity. She’s been dying for a salacious neighbor since Beck moved out because her husband caught her with the nanny.” You quip instantly and amusement flits through Simon as you finally come to a stop in front of a dark green door. It’s quick work to unlock it and you push the door open, but don’t step inside. He likes that. It’s as if the second he signed the lease, this became his space and you won’t enter it until invited. “If you’d like to do me a favor and need some furniture, I have some in the basement from past tenants that I’d be glad to be rid of. Tell me if you’d like to look and I’ll take you. You have my number if you need anything else, but I’m usually around anyway.”

He enters the apartment and looks around at the empty space with a small sigh. It’s a good space with plenty of room and a view of the street below, but being in a new place feels like starting over. It’s a discomforting feeling given that nothing in his life has actually changed except for his address. But he turns towards you all the same and gives you another nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

You nod back and spare another moment to look him over. He’s not the first stray soldier that’s wandered into your building, but each one has been different. This one…this one might take quite a bit of coaxing. You give him another smile and see his body shift towards it just like he did the last time, as if your smile is sunlight he’s basking in. “Welcome home.”

*     *     *

The next time he sees you, you’re crouched on the stairs in front of a kid no more than eight-years-old. “It…hurts…” The little boy says between sobs with red smeared over his right knee. Probably from a nasty fall. Simon pauses on the next flight of stairs, looking down at you through the railing.

“Aw, yeah, I know it does. You’re being brave for me though.” Your voice is soft and gentle as you clean the blood away. “Bet that wimp Eric would be wailing this whole time, huh? Remember when he stubbed his toe and screamed for a minute straight?” There’s a little giggle and his heart squeezes at the sound.

The kid sniffles. “Yeah, I remember. He fell on the ground like he broke it or something.”

“That’s right.” You approve, smiling at him and reaching to the side where a first aid kit sits. “But I saw you play baseball and you didn’t even flinch when that pitcher hit you with the ball.”

“Yeah, that’s true. And that hurt!” The kid leans back a bit, relaxing as you distract him and I idly think about how many medics I’ve seen use the same tactic on wounded soldiers.

You finish cleaning up his knee and press a large band-aid to the ripped skin. “But you were so tough then and you were tough now. All done.” You muss his hair a bit and he giggles, slapping your hand away. “Now, what are we not going to do?”

The kid’s head droops. “Sprint up the stairs.”

“Smart kid. Now, wear that scrape with honor.” You tilt his chin up and he grins, sniffling again before leaning forward and giving you a hug.

“Thanks.” He squeezes tight before getting up and heading down the stairs at a slightly slower pace than running. A wait a moment as you pack up the things from your kit before heading down. Your head lifts and you smile at me, the same as the other day, and it strikes me just like it did then.

I clear my throat and tilt my head to where the kid went. “You seem to know everyone in this place.”

You hum and stand with the first aid kit in hand. “It’s my job to know everything that happens in this building.”

 He quirks a brow at you. “That’s not a position taken by most owners.”

“You should have easily learned by now that I’m not like most owners.” You quip instantly and are rewarded with a little upward twitch of his mouth.

“I was hoping you might have time to show me some of the furniture you mentioned?” He asks, unassuming and polite despite his size and clear musculature. It makes you like him a little more.

You nod and take a breath in the face of another task. “Sure. Let’s go.” You turn on your heel and start moving, Simon trailing behind with surprisingly soft footfalls. You jingle slightly with each step from the keys on your hip and he can’t help but think of a cat with a bell.

The basement is dark until you pull a heavy switch and illuminate a surprisingly large space littered with furniture. “Pick whatever you like and I’ll help you carry it up.”

“You ever stop working?” He asks and you can hear the amusement in his voice. You shrug a shoulder and lean against the wall beside the stairs as he slowly walks through the room.

“There’s always something to be done and no one else is going to do it.”

“You could hire people.”

You immediately roll your eyes. “Then I’d have to fix whatever they screw up. Better to do it myself and get it right the first time.” He exhales softly and you swear that it’s almost a soft laugh.

“You remind me of someone.” He says and pauses next to a little kitchen table with two chairs in pretty good condition.

Your head tilts and you give him a little smile as he glances over. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

This time, you get an actual chuckle. “From me, it’s a compliment.”

“Hm. Then thank you.” You’re not sure you want to know why it would be an insult coming from someone else. He knocks on the table and the wood makes a dull, solid clunk noise. He nods and apparently that means it’s passed inspection. He lifts it up into his arms with a grunt and surprise widens your eyes as he carries it towards the stairs. You clear the way, grabbing the two chairs and staring at him as he bypasses the elevator in favor of more stairs without making a sound. It’s not exactly professional the way your eyes linger on his muscular arms, the shifting of his back under his t-shirt, and especially not how his thighs fit his jeans oh-so-well.

He grunts again as he sets the table down in his apartment and you sidle in to set the chairs on either side. There’s almost nothing else in the apartment. There are a few blankets and books in the bedroom along with a few cushions on the floor of the living room facing a tv. That’s it. He certainly isn’t one to overdecorate. “Anything else?” You offer with a hand on you hip.

He nods once. “Mind another trip?”

You smile and start walking to the door. “I’d be glad to empty out my entire basement if you like. Seems like you need it anyway.” The corner of his mouth lifts.

“I suppose that’s true. I appreciate the help.” He says and his voice is deep, but gentle. You only grow more curious about him and during the few more trips up and down the stairs, you realize that this guy might need a bit more than a little help with living.

*     *     *

It starts slow.

A few neighbors start bringing him some food throughout the week. Leftovers, baked goods, all under the guise of welcoming him to the building. Then there’s a small flyer set outside his door for an estate sale nearby where he finds a few more things to make his apartment less sparse. It’s a tad overbearing, but in an amusing way and he finds he doesn’t mind. Something about being aggressively looked after reminds him of Soap’s family and any thought of the Scot is a welcome one. He has little doubt that the interference is due to your instruction. You run this building better than most people in charge of the military.

His favorite spot in the apartment becomes the little window seat in the living room. It has a good view of the street and without fail, he gets a glimpse of you working in the flowerbeds in the front of the building. On the nicer days, he’ll even crack the window to hear you cussing at your rosebushes. But you’re a little quiet one day, moving slow, still working amongst the thorns in jean shorts and a tank-top dark with sweat. When you stand and wobble in place, he puts down the book he was pretending to read.

You heave a breath and wipe sweat off your brow before grabbing onto the railing leading into the building. Ugh, it’s hot. The sun is beating down like a physical weight and your sunhat is currently somewhere in Delaney’s apartment after her girlfriend borrowed it. Best to just bear the expense and get another one. “You run yourself ragged.” That deep voice disturbs your thoughts and your head lifts to see Simon standing there with a water bottle held out to you.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you gratefully accept the water and settle on the steps. “Too much to do to stop. Thank you for this.” The bottle is blissfully cold as you press it to your neck and take a deep breath of relief.

Simon moves across from you and leans on the railing, looking you over. Something you’ve noticed is how careful he is to give you space. He never comes too close. “I’ve seen you running around the building at least three times today. Once unclogging the garbage chute, the second time greasing the hinges of a door down the hall, and the third—” He gestures to rosebushes you were just digging in.

You finish drinking half the water and raise a brow at him with a teasing glint in your eye. “Keeping track of me?”

His lips part, but he’s interrupted before he can say a word. “Sweetie, my air conditioner is on the fritz again.” An older woman peeks out of the front door and Simon recognizes Mrs. Cruz from across the hall. She scrutinizes him through her big glasses before blinking innocently back at you.

You sigh, but nod. “Alright, Mrs. Cruz. I’ll be there right away.” She shuffles back into the building while you heave yourself up onto your feet and your vision immediately goes black. It almost feels like you’re outside your body as you feel it sway backward before a large hand slides onto your lower back and another grips your arm. Your hand tightens on the railing as your eyes snap open, the world swimming in front of you.

“Steady, now.” A pair of concerned eyes are the first thing you see as your vision clears. “Let’s get you inside.” He moves closer and begins to stoop, but you grab his shirt in a fist.

“You are not picking me up.” You grind out, every word a command. Not in front of your building, not by a tenant, not with Mrs. Cruz waiting inside who would assuredly spread every type of rumor she could about the scene. “Just…walk inside with me.” He hesitates a beat before straightening and letting you use his arm and the railing to get back into the building. You shoot a smile towards Mrs. Cruz waiting exactly where you expected her. “I need my tools, but I’ll be along in just a minute.”

Her eyes squint, but she nods a moment later before vanishing into the elevator. “Slowly and steadily, then.” Simon murmurs with his hands gentle and sure as he moves you towards your office in the back. You hold your tongue despite the desire to insist that you do not need help because you very clearly do. Still, you can’t hold back your heavy sigh as you both slowly walk back and he helps you settle into your office chair.

“Thank you.” You murmur, pride a little wounded but ultimately grateful you didn’t have to crawl in here. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Then I’ll head up to help Mrs. Cruz.” Your head shakes as you make yourself drink the rest of your water while taking some steadying breaths.

“Unfortunate we’re not closer to my apartment. I’d give you something one of my neighbors gifted me earlier this week.” Simon comments with amusement lacing his tone. Maybe you weren’t as subtle about filling his pantry as you thought you were.

“I ate today. Just pushed a little too hard in the heat. That’s all.”

“Mm.” He hums, watching you from the doorway with the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “A habit of yours?”

You can’t resist returning his near smile. “Practically my occupation.”

He huffs a small laugh before clearing his throat as if trying to hide it. The fact makes you smile a little wider. “I’ll get you another water, then walk with you up the stairs.”

“Oh, there’s really no need—” But he’s already walked out. You sigh again, relaxing back into the chair and closing your eyes for a few moments. Time passes, a bit too long than it should have taken, but when you open your eyes there’s another water in front of you and no Simon. You feel a bit better and rise from your seat with a groan, grabbing your toolkit and heading up to Mrs. Cruz. But it’s an utter surprise when you get to her apartment to find the usual whir of her air conditioning uninterrupted.

“That handsome man across the hall had it fixed in a few minutes. Didn’t complain or say much other than asking what the problem was.” Mrs. Cruz reports with rare approval in her voice. Mr. Cruz grumbles quietly from his usual seat in his favorite armchair. You sigh and glance out the door towards Simon’s apartment with a hand on your hip and a half-smile. Seems you’re not the only one keen to help. Whether it’s asked for or not.