#God I Need More Of These

Star wars men you will always be famous, i’m in love with them.

We've been robbed 😭... I just realized Neil is has no shirt on the bathtub but when he stood up on that video, he got his shirt and the vest. NOOO!

Neil Ellice in “Soap’s Battle Royale Checklist“ x SMACK TALK

This is the Way

I know some people are upset that Din won't have the Darksaber moving forward and are saying that he seems unimportant in his own show. But Bo-Katan's rise back to leading the Mandalorians is all because of Din. And it happened in the most Din way possible??

Like, he accidentally got her to bathe in the Living Waters. He accidentally caused her to see the Mythosaur. He got his ass caught by the cyborg creature thing that allowed her to win back the Darksaber. He accidentally renews her faith in the Way. He brings her back to his covert and she accidentally joins them. Then because of all that, the Armorer thinks she is THE ONE.

Hilarious. It's all because of him. Very Din.

Ahsoka + PUBG

why so 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Simon Says. (Ghost X Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, this is kinda short, Smut, Rough Sex, Oral Sex (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, Minors DNI -_-

Summary: After reader harasses Ghost enough, he decides to play you at your own game.

Since you joined the Task Force, everyone noticed how playful and fun you were. You reminded them a lot of Johnny. Some even referred to you as a younger- female version of Soap. The both of you got along real well. Poor Ghost was getting harassed in so many ways, and it had been ramped up.

Especially when you found out his real name was Simon. You tortured him nonstop. Anytime he led missions and gave any orders you’d always make jokes.

“Oh, Simon says we take the building on the left, let’s go.”

“You have to say Simon says first or we won’t go.”

“He’s Simon, anything he says goes.”

You always cracked little jokes like that. Usually you got an eye roll in return. You never really thought much would come of it. You thought if he didn’t like it, he’d pull you aside and complain, but that never happened. He took your harassment and gave you little in return. Until one night.

You made your way back to your room, skin warm and red from the shower you’d just had. You’d forgotten a towel which meant your hair was soaked and your clothes were damp. You were frustrated and all you needed to do was get back to your room. You flinched a little as you felt water dripping down your back from your soaked hair. You opened up your door, stepping inside and closing the door behind yourself before flicking the light on. You don’t notice him at first. Your bed was up against the wall in the center of the room, toward the foot of your bed was a desk with a small wooden chair a few feet away. You didn’t see him, but Simon was sitting there. You looked around for a towel to ring your hair out with, a gasp leaving your lips when you finally see him. “Jesus Ghost.” You rest your hand over your chest. “How long have you been sitting there?” He shrugs. Avoiding your question completely.

What you didn’t know, is that Ghost had overheard a few of the other girls on base talking about you, how you had a crush on him.

“You said since my names’ Simon, anything I say goes right?” He asks. “Uh..” you creep toward the foot of your bed, sitting on the edge of it. A few feet away from him. “I.. I guess so? It’s just a joke.” You say nervously. He’s leaning back, leg propped up over the other as he plays with his gloves. His eyes are watching them, only looking up at you when he starts again. “Let’s play Simon says than, shall we?” You look at him confused as he slides his foot off of the other, crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair completely. “I.. I don’t think I understand-“ you go to stand up.

“Sit down.”

You obey him, keeping sat down.

“Good girl.” He smiles. “Learning quickly yeah?” He nods.

“Take your shirt off.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“Simon says, sweet girl. Take it off.”

“Are you serious?”

A deep chuckle leaves his lips. “Deadly.”

You swallow hard. Reaching down for the hem of your damp shirt, pulling it up and over your head. He takes a deep breath, the sound of his breaths getting more and more ragged. “Now take your shorts off.”

You hesitate for a second, his eyes burning into yours. You like Simon sure, but never thought anything like this would ever happen, you had to be dreaming right? You slip them down your thighs. You had no undergarments on, you had literally just left the shower. You now sat completely naked in front of him. “Ring your hair out.” He starts to tap his foot. You grasp your hair together in one hand, squeezing it, moving your enclosed fingers down. Drips of water coating your shoulders and chest. A growl leaves his lips as he watches the water spill down your body. Shivers going up your spine and your nipples harden from the chills arising on your skin. “Stand up.” You obey him. Standing up. “Cmere.” His voice is so deep, so sexy. You take in a jagged breath, taking slow steps toward him. You stop right in front of him, and he reaches forward, pulling you closer into him by the back of your thigh. He leans forward. Taking a deep breath in.

He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust. “Get on your knees.” He breathes.

You drop to your knees quickly. He leans back in the chair, watching you for a second. His gloved hand glides across your shoulder, over your collar bone and up your throat, lifting your chin to look up at him. His voice is low and deep when he speaks again, almost a whisper. “You’re going to be a good girl for me, yeah?” He breathes. You nod your head. “Yes sir.”

His cock jumps in his cargo pants at the nickname you’ve given him. He’s heard it before, but obviously not like this. He reaches down, unbuckling his belt. He’s moving slow, admiring the way that you watch him so intently. Simon would stop if you were uncomfortable, but the way you’re looking at him. He can tell he has nothing to worry about. You scoot closer as Simon slides his thick cock through the zipper of his pants, “Suck my cock.” He breathes. You raise yourself up slightly, hands resting on his thick thighs as you grasp the base of his cock, he watches you intently, the way you lick a stripe up the base, swirling your tongue over the tip of his cock. “Oh fuck..” he breathes, sliding down further in the chair. You take him further down, hallowing your cheeks and started to suck harder, his eyes widening. You’re bobbing your head up and down with your movements, hand pumping the parts of his fat cock that you can’t fit in your mouth. The way your hair moves. Lips swelling with the friction, the absolutely filthy and lewd sounds coming from your lips. It’s thrown him for a curveball, Simon hasn’t been with a woman in years. He’s realizing it now. He slides his glove off, reaching down and gathering a handful of your hair up, guiding you down his cock.

He tilts his head back and you take the advantage, looking up at him. His mask raises just a little bit and when he swallows you can see his adams apple bobbing. He’s panting hard, clutching your hair tightly, earning a whimper from your lips. The vibrations from your mouth has him bucking his hips into you. “F-fuck- so good-“ he gasps, his thighs starting to shake a little under your grasp. He releases his grasp on your damp hair, clutching the chair tightly. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and your eyes start to water. He looks back down at you, finally staring right directly into your eyes. You’re looking up at him through your eyelashes and Simon has to fight off the urge to bust right there. “Stop.” He pushes you back. He stands up, helping you up from the floor. He lifts you up, laying you back on your bed and moving himself above you. He’s staring down at you, and your eyes widen slightly as he grasps the bottom of his mask, pulling it up and over his face. Revealing himself to you. You were looking at Simon, all of him. “You okay?” He asks, looking down at you. You swipe your tongue over your bottom lip, heart racing in your chest. You nod your head. Your nerves are shot and he can tell. “Have you done this before?” He asks. You nod your head. “You seem nervous.” He chuckles. “It’s been a while-“ you take in a shaky breath. “Just try to relax for me. M’not gonna hurt ya.” He breathes. He tugs his sweater over his head, his shirt following with it. He unbuttons his pants, they’re sitting low on his waist already. You glance down, following the v on his fit body down to his fat cock, something you’re not used to. He moves himself lower on the bed, moving himself between your legs. He pushes your legs apart further, grasping you by your thighs and pulling you down until you’re laying on your back. You’re stiff and he can read you easily. He knows you’ll get used to him though. He’s not worried.

He takes hold of your thighs so that you can’t squirm away from him. He can tell you’ve probably never been gone down on, and if you had it wasn’t any good. He knows once he starts you’ll get sensitive and try to move away. His grip on your thighs will prevent it. He looks you dead in the eyes as he glides his tongue over your clit for the first time, you visibly melt into him, tilting your head back with a gasp and reaching to clutch at the sheets. His tongue glides between your folds and you fall apart right there. Tongue moving through your folds like a warm knife gliding through butter. You clamp your hand down over your mouth and Simon knows, it’s a shame he won’t get to hear your cries. But that’s something for another time. He glides his tongue over your clit, lapping at it and sucking it between his lips until you’re swollen and sensitive. Squirming as you’re right on the edge. You’ve never cum like this and as desperate as you are, you don’t know if you can stay quiet. He pulls away and your body relaxes. “Hands and knees sweetheart.” He mumbles. You obey him immediately, which is good.

Because this is still Simon says.

He moves himself up slightly, gliding his hand over your back, pushing down on your middle so that you arch your back for him. Feeling his hands glide down your hips until they’re resting right on your ass, spreading them so that he can get a good look at you. He lowers himself and once you feel his tongue at your hole, you jump forward. The sensation is completely unfamiliar and he tries to hold you still, you’re realizing pretty quickly that Simon has no limit. He’s doing this casually. You’re clutching at the sheets tightly, burying your face into them which was the goal. To muffle your moans. He rubs circles over your clit as he swirls his tongue over your ass, sliding a couple fingers into your pussy. You realize quickly you’ve never been so stimulated. Your orgasm is approaching pathetically fast as he works you up to it, fingers brushing over your walls, moving through you perfectly, tongue lapping at your hole. You cry into the sheets, thighs shaking violently as you reach your first orgasm. He works you through it until you’re overstimulated and shying away from his touch. He pulls away from you, wiping his saliva from around his mouth. He moves up, and you feel his cock prodding at your entrance. You’re nervous for how thick he is, but your haze from your first orgasm keeps the nerves at bay for now.

You feel the tip of his cock pushing past your folds, and his eyes widen as you swallow him up, feeling tight just around the tip. You can feel every inch of his cock as he sinks himself into your hole, a slight burn from him stretching your walls further than they ever have before. You’re biting the sheets to stay quiet and he’s smirking down at you. When his hips are flush with yours and he can hear you sobbing from the shear size of him stretching you open. Splitting you open on his cock, he leans over you. Mouth right next to your ear. His voice is low, deep and scratchy. “I want you to remember this. The way you feel on my cock whenever you want to make your little jokes about Simon says.” He breathes, drawing his hips back and thrusting back into you hard. You cry into the sheets and he chuckles again. “Simon says take his cock like a good fucking slut.” His deep laugh is taunting as he starts in. He’s rough, showing you no mercy as he fucks his cock into you as deep as it’ll fit. You’re crying into the sheets, overstimulated and overwhelmed. You can barely take the brooding man, how on earth he’s going so deep is beyond you. He grasps a handful of your hair, pulling you back into him until your back is flush with his chest. Your skin is cold from your damp hair. A different contrast to his heated and sweaty chest. He rests his hand around your throat, tilting your head back to kiss him.

“Such a good fucking girl for me, keeping up.” He groans. He’s got a death grip on your hips, there will for sure be fingertip sized bruises there the next day. You can’t even form coherent thoughts as he pounds himself into you, and it’s even worse when he lowers a hand to rub at your sensitive nub. Your eyes roll back, screwing shut. You can feel another orgasm building, his cock brushing right up against that sweet spot deep inside of you. “I heard your little friends talking about how you had a crush on me.” He pants. His own high is approaching quickly. Your cheeks are turning red. “Guess it worked out huh?” He smirks. He’s trying to distract himself, he doesn’t want to cum first. “Simon-“ you mewl. “Rub your clit.” He breathes. You listen to him again, rubbing quick circles over it. He grasps your hips, taking skilled and quick thrusts into you. Keeping the same pace. You moan into the pillow as you reach another high and he fucks you right through it. This one is more intense than the last, your vision going white. Simon groans out as he reaches his own high. Cock twitching hard with each spurt of his cum that he releases deep inside of you, not even bothering with the consequences. He lowers himself into you, resting his forehead against the middle of your back. He’s panting hard, worn out and completely fucked out.

“You did so good for me.” he breathes. You can’t help as your cheeks turn red. A gasp leaves your lips when he slides out of you. He groans out, seeing his filth spill back out of your hole could easily get him hard again. He helps you off of the bed, helping you clean up and get redressed. Once you finish, he’s waiting patiently in the chair at your desk for you. “Come here.” He breathes. You walk toward him, and he pulls you into him, looking up at you again. “You’re a good girl you know that?” He breathes, earning a smile from you. “Hey, Simon says right?” You smile, leaning down to kiss him.

“Yeah. Simon says.”

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.

My Roman Empire

On the edge on my seat waiting for ghost or y/n to finally confess

Menstrual Man’s Digits (Part 88)

this is my husband right here 👍🏽

Soap. Love him.

😭😭😭 I've never felt happier than this ... And the bandana 😭

You're our kid, Omega.

These two, my Roman Empire!!!!

Howzer Glaring at Crosshair: A Series

THE THOTS THESE CONJURE