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supernatural-bias · 10 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy

↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.

↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways

• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes

• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”

• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night

• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did

• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into

• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two

• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own

• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”

• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦��𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod

• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really

• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that

• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.

• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be

• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left

• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones

• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled

• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times

• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”

• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot

• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any

• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you

• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is

• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at

• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny

• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him

• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed

• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group

• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in

• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect

• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye

• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this

• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it

• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them

• “Just one swing I swear—“

• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders

• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”

• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team

• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together

• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind

• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language

• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that

• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’

• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however

• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand

• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs

• “Goddamnit!—“

• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks

• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town ain't big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.

• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him

• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you

• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude

• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”

• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes

• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment

• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible

• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway

• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet

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youngheejay · 1 month ago

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Winter mornings and weird misunderstandings

Where you just wanted Sunghoon to buy you some pads but he’s a little silly bf

Starring: Sunghoon x fem!reader [fairly new established relationship]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A sharp pain in your lower abdomen disturbed your peaceful sleep.

You glanced at the clock confused. It was 6:56 am, why did you wake up so early? Frustrated, you buried your face in your fluffy pillow. You had hoped that you could’ve slept in on your well deserved rest day. The comfort of your blanket and pillow made you want to bury yourself in your bed but God had a different plan.

On cue, another pain shot through your lower stomach.

This is going to kill me.

You really didn’t want to leave your warm and cozy blanket, knowing well enough that as soon as you escaped your cocoon you’d be met with the cold reality of a winter morning.

After convincing yourself that you’ll be able to sleep more comfortably after going to the bathroom, you started to unravel yourself from the thick blanket. Only then you realised that something was holding you down. A heavy and familiar, yet unusual and odd weight rested on your waist.

Afraid and slightly in panic, you slowly but steadily turned your head to the side. The sight in front of you melted your heart instantly and you had to suppress a chuckle from escaping.

Gosh, I’m so stupid. How could I forget?

You wished you could’ve taken a picture so that this scene would last you an eternity. But you knew if you moved away to grab your phone he’d wake up and ruin the moment. So instead of reaching out for your phone, you carefully made yourself more comfortable and looked at your boyfriend with fond eyes.

There he laid with the sweetest pout on his lips, his cheek squished against the pillow and his eyebrows softly furrowed in a cute manner.

You had to suppress the urge to squeeze his squishy and roundish cheeks. Your heart was full of love and adoration for the man laying beside you.

Pursing your lips, you dared to lightly brush away the strand of hair that fell directly on his closed eye. You couldn’t resist it so you also caressed his face faintly with the tips of your fingers, hoping this wouldn’t wake him up.

Luckily, the only response you got was a soft grunt.

Due to his very high demanding profession as an idol you often times were restrained from some quality boyfriend-girlfriend time.

So moments like these were a true treasure. Especially seeing him so soft and peaceful on a sunday morning. Normally, sunday mornings were spent at some kind of filming or broadcast studio for sunghoon.

When your boyfriend told you yesterday that he’ll be sleeping over at your apartment, you couldn’t help but let out a high pitched squeal.

“I’ll be yours the whole day tomorrow since I don’t have any schedules.” He had whispered against your lips with a faint smirk. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

You let out a soft sigh, you felt so happy and content. In response, his muscular, but heavy arm tightened around you ever so slightly. This was a reminder to you to not make any noises.

Your boyfriend was a super light sleeper when he slept next to you. Even though it was a very rare occurrence that you spent the night together he somehow managed to instantly develop this sleeping habit.

It was a really weird thing that you made notice of. Because, whenever you found him asleep in his own bed at his dorm it was an impossible task to wake him up. He just wouldn’t butch.

His dear members also testified that he was a heavy sleeper and that they had a hard time waking him up.

But only after four months into your relationship you realised how severe the difference was.

The difference being: him sleeping alone vs. with you.

Whenever he fell asleep with you by his side he woke up at the slightest signs of you waking up or your discomfort. It seemed like he had a sixth’s sense when it came to you and his protectiveness over you awoke him even from the deepest slumber.

Fortunately, it got a little better the more you slept together. Now, you could turn around freely and even slightly caress him, without him waking up. As long as you were in his arms everything seemed fine to his subconscious instincts. But as soon as you slipped out of his arms he immediately woke up and yearned for your warm presence.

As cute as this observation was, it also worried you that maybe he wasn’t resting properly whenever you slept next to him. It was an obvious fact that your boyfriend was really overprotective and was concerned for you 24/7. Thus, you had to train him little by little so he could at least be relaxed while he’s asleep.

However, you did have a quite good achievement the last time he spent the night with you. You had managed to escape his hold and got yourself a glass of water. It made you very proud - maybe more at your ninja skills than of him.

Right now you had a difficult mission ahead:

Go to the bathroom and prepare yourself for your period. And if you were lucky you could even make yourself a warm bottle without him noticing anything. This would be true perfection. A new milestone in your relationship of 6 months.

And you believed that this was possible - luck shall be on your side. After all, sunghoon was exhausted from the recently finished promotions of his groups comeback. Hence, there’s a high possibility that he wouldn’t wake up like last time.

You took a deep breath. Focus, y/n. You’ve got this.

Little by little you took small steps to escape his embrace. With every movement of yours you looked at his expression with upmost concentration. Every micro movement of his was crucial for this mission.

And when you actually managed to slip out of his arms you couldn’t feel more excited. Wow, this is a really big step in your relationship. That’s the second time he didn’t stirred awake from you leaving the bed. Will this be the new norm from now onwards?

You only stood up from the bed when you were certain that he was still sleeping.

When you checked that the coast was clear you tiptoed out of your bedroom and softly opened the bathroom door.

Slowly and quietly, you closed the door and tried to be quick with your business.

Great, ugh, I already got my period. You hoped that you didn’t stain the bedsheets.

Whatever, you quickly wanted to clean yourself up and cuddle with your boyfriend. That’s why boyfriends exist, right?

When you opened the cabinet in your bathroom your heart dropped.

No, no, no, no.

This couldn’t be happening.

You were out of pads.

You scoffed to yourself ironically. Great.

What do I do??

You couldn’t just quickly go out to buy some. The next store was only a 15 minute walk but it was freezing and snowing so much outside.

You could take sunghoon’s car, since you didn’t own one yourself. But you cringed internally, thinking about going out while blood is running down your legs. And you’d probably stain the seat of his car. Not to mention that you had to clean up all of the fresh snow first.

You felt like crying. Why does stuff like this always happen to you? Ugh.

The pain became unbearable and your legs felt too weak. Even if you weren’t bleeding too much right now, you just weren’t feeling well. You needed to lay down.

The realisation of your current bloody situation kicked in.

You had to do something quickly.

Should I ask sunghoon?

But you just felt so shy. Sunghoon was your first boyfriend and your relationship was fairly new. It didn’t help that you didn’t get to spend so much time together yet, which is why your shyness towards him was still highly present.

What if he is disgusted by me? Or maybe he’ll get angry because he doesn’t want to buy these stuff? Or maybe he’ll even get mad because I woke him up because of this?

You had heard about stories like these. You already felt too vulnerable right now, you certainly wouldn’t be able to handle rejection.

But then you thought that this was sunghoon that you were thinking about.

Not some random dude you found on the streets. He always took good care of you. And he was definitely not some douchebag who wouldn’t help his girlfriend when she needed him the most.

Since the beginning of your relationship he had been nothing but a sweetheart towards. It wouldn’t be fair towards him to just assume that he wouldn’t want to help you if you have an emergency.

Nonetheless, you were a nervous wreck when you quietly made your way to your bedroom. With a thumping heart you went to his side.

“Hoonie?” You whispered so quietly that you’d be surprise if he woke up from that.

When he didn’t react, you caressed his arm a little and whispered his nickname again, this time a tiny bit louder: “hoonie, wake up, please.”

His eyes shot open widely and he reacted instantly as he abruptly sat up. His sudden movement startled you a little.

He recognised your stressed face and immediately furrowed his eyebrows in concern. His protective nature was shown instantly.

“What’s wrong, princess?” He rasped with his deep morning voice.

In response you gave him a nervous smile and played with the hem of your shirt.

Sunghoon immediately understood that something is wrong and pulled you by your arm towards him. You landed in his lap ungraciously and immediately squirmed around. You wanted to stand up because you weren’t wearing any pads but he tightened his hold around you with his strong arms.

“Baby, are you okey? Are you hurt?” He caressed one of his hand all over your body - as if to check for any injuries.

When he didn’t see anything his eyes quickly darted to the clock.

“No, everything is alright, hoonie,” you mumbled quietly, hoping he wasn’t mad at you. At the same time a sharp pain shot through your lower stomach, causing you to lay your hand on the area as you tried to act nonchalantly.

Of course, sunghoon noticed it immediately and put his hand over yours.

“I’m sorry I woke you up…” you searched for a way to tell him what you wanted from him.

Subconsciously, you took his warm hand in yours and pressed it against the area from where the discomfort blossomed.

Sunghoon squinted his eyes ever so slightly in confusion and rubbed the area under your bellybutton with the softest motions.

“It’s ok, honey,” simultaneously, he rubbed your back with his other hand. As you enjoyed the warmth his action was providing, you grabbed his arm from behind and dragged it down to your lower back, where you needed it the most.

You sighed softly, enjoying the comfort your boyfriend was providing and without noticing it, you leaned into his chest. Sunghoon also automatically leaned back on the headboard - albeit his state of mind was everything but relaxed.

You rested there in his lap - feeling so safe and comfortable and also completely oblivious to the chaos you caused in your boyfriend’s head.

Sunghoon was really confused on why you woke him up so early in the morning. Heck, he couldn’t understand why you would be awake this early on a Sunday morning. And the way you looked at him - something was definitely wrong.

He started to rack his brain with every single possibility of a problem you could be having right now. He wasn’t able to think that far as his brain was still fogged with sleep.

But then it suddenly clicked.

Fuck.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

She’s pregnant.

Sunghoons eyes darted towards his hand on your belly. Why else would she put my hand there?

His eyes widened in shock but he quickly tried to cover up his reaction and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

Sunghoon felt his neck and ears heat up in embarrassment and frustration. Fuck, how could this happen?

What am I gonna do?

Fuck it. You’re the man in this relationship, Park Sunghoon. Get your shit together.

“Baby, look at me,” he demanded after he mentally gave himself a pep-talk and pulled himself together.

“I think I know what’s going on,” he continued and cupped your face with his hands.

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Yes, and I want you to know that it’s ok. Everything will be just fine, alright?”

You pouted in awe, “so you’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not, princess. Why would I be mad, baby?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled, “because I woke you up so early in this morning?”

“Are for you real? I’m really glad that you woke me up. You know, we’re a team, y/n. We’re in this together,” he tried his best to soothe you.

“You’re so cute. Thank you, darling,” you pecked his lips, feeling grateful to have such a sweet boyfriend.

Just as you were about to pull away he closed the gap between your lips again and kissed you passionately.

You were stunned, not expecting him to kiss you with so much energy but of course you wanted to return the favour.

Sunghoon only pulled away slightly so his lips still lingered close enough to yours.

“Don’t thank me, baby, this my duty. I’ll always take care of you. Your comfort and needs are my top priority. Especially in this kind of situation.” Your heart melted hearing these heart touching words from sunghoon.

When he noticed that your eyes teared up a little, he instantly put his large and warm hand on your cheek and stroke it with his thumb.

“Don’t cry. You’re my strong girl, aren’t you?” You nodded in agreement with a determined look on your face. He’s right, I am strong.

No period pain in this world will take me down this easily. You felt a boost of confidence.

“To be honest, hoonie, at first I was really scared to share this with you. It’s just that this is such a sensitive topic to me as - you know - I always heard all of these stories were the boyfriend gets mad at the girl. And since you’re my first boyfriend - I don’t know - I was never in a situation like this before with a man. I just felt really insecure for a moment. But I’m so grateful I have you to share this with - it can be a really exhausting issue.”

Sunghoon cooed at hearing your deepest feelings - just not about the thing he was thinking of.

“It’s natural to be scared at first. But I’m glad you didn’t let your initial feelings get between us,” he then chuckled lightly, feeling his heart a little lighter than before, “can I be straightforward with you?” You nodded your head immediately, your big round eyes encouraging him to speak.

“When I realised it, not gonna lie, I was pretty shocked. Like I never thought about this before. And I know that our relationship is fairly new, but it’s okay, as long as we have each other, everything is going to be okey. Don’t worry your pretty little head. We’ll go through this together. There’s no need to hide things from each other, alright?”

You felt deeply touched by his words again, with a pout on your face you wrapped your arms around your boyfriends neck. “I’m so lucky that I have you,” you confessed sincerely as you nuzzled your face in his neck.

“I’m the lucky one, babe. I’ll always be there for you. And of course it’s my responsibility to take care of you.“ He took a deep breath as the severity of the situation settled in. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t scared and shitting his pants right now - heck, he felt his pulse pounding up in his ears.

He closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. Fuck. This is too crazy.

But then he reminded himself that he had you in his arms and that he couldn’t let his fears and worries transfer to you. You were too vulnerable right now in this state.

He took one big breath before he started to speak again: “As long as you have me, you don’t have to worry about anything in this world, alright, princess? That’s what you are to me - my own beautiful princess.” He kissed your forehead as if his words weren’t enough to make you emotional.

The only thing you were able to say was a soft, “I love you.” You didn’t even notice that you started to cry - you just couldn’t believe that you doubted your boyfriends kindness for even more than a second. Sunghoon tightened his embrace around you.

“I love you too. More than you can imagine…” he whispered the last past as if it wasn’t meant for you to hear.

“And of course,” he added, and before he continued he put his hand back to the place he was caressing before.

He hesitated for a moment, letting his brain process the new information.

Then he continued with a stable and confident voice: “Of course I love this little one also.”

…

You titled your head to side.

What?

“What?” You repeated out loud and leaned back.

When Sunghoon looked at you you realised that there was a shimmer of tears reflecting in his eyes. You have never seen him cry before - what the actual fuck.

After he didn’t respond to you, you hesitantly asked:

“You love… my… uterus?”

For a second sunghoons brain stopped working. He was stunned at your boldness - flabbergasted even.

“Baby, what are you saying?” His bewildered glance made you really shy and even embarrassed as if you were the one who said something weird.

“I-“ you wanted to say something but you were too taken aback to form a sentence.

You slightly hit his chest, “hoonie!!” you whined, “what are you talking about?”

“I’m- babe, wait- I’m so confused right now.” He squinted his eyes at you - his expression screamed for help.

“I’m obviously talking about our baby!!” He exclaimed in desperation.

“What?!” You matched his tone, “what baby??”

“Mine! I mean yours! No- I mean ours! The one I put inside your belly!” Sunghoon stuttered - he was utterly bewildered and felt his ears heat up in embarrassment to say it out loud like this.

“Are you saying I’m pregnant?!” You whined loudly in disbelief, not trusting your ears.

All of the sudden sunghoon got quiet real quick.

“…no.”

“Yes you are!!” You gasped dramatically and clasped your hand at your mouth. “Oh my god! I can’t believe you!! You really thought I’m pregnant?!”

“Park Sunghoon!” You hit his chest, “why would you think I’m pregnant???”

“Wait- I can explain, Baby-“

Hit

“Baby!!”

Hit

“Ahh!!”

Hit

“Don’t hit me, ba-!!”

Hit

Just as you were about to hit him again he quickly caught your wrist. “Princess- please let me explain!”

“It better be a good explanation, sunghoon! I can’t believe you thought I was pregnant! Do you even know what would happen if this was real?! We both would be dead! You’d get killed by your fans and I’d get killed by mom!!”

“I know-“

You cut him off again: “Why would you think this??? Are you saying I look pregnant?? Oh my god, don’t you dare answer this, Park Sunghoon!”

“No, bunny! It’s nothing like this I swear!”

You gave him a suspicious look.

“You woke me up at 7 in the morning, didn’t tell me what’s going on and you only put my hand on your belly! I assumed this because there isn’t any other plausible explanation, please!”

You huffed and puffed up your cheeks as you crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned away from you boyfriend.

Sunghoon laughed slightly as his eyebrows shot up in disbelief: “Don’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad,” you sulked like a child.

“Will you please tell me then what’s going on? Otherwise I’ll be the one who’s ‘not mad’.”

You rolled your eyes and mumbled: “I got my periodandIneedyoutobuysomepadsbecauseI’mout”

“Y/n.” He demanded, raising one eyebrow.

You turned around to look at him. Your cheeks were red and sunghoon felt a rush of cuteness aggression - if you were in another situation he would have definitely bit them.

“I got my period!” You said in an annoyed tone.

“Oh okey,” he nodded and breathed out of relief. Thank God.

“Yes! The complete opposite from what you assumed!“

“Why did you - and I really don’t want to sound like a jerk - but why did you wake me up? To tell me this?”

You rolled your eyes harder than before: “well, you do sound like a jerk. I’m in pain, alright?”

“Okey… do you want… I don’t know… cuddles?” Your boyfriend offered carefully as he still couldn’t figure out what you wanted from him.

“Of course, sunghoon! That’s what you always do! You know this already. You unlocked level 2 of ‘boyfriend’ like 4 months ago! But before we’ll cuddle you’ll go to the store and buy me pads and snacks!”

“Oh okey…” he nodded again slightly.

After a few moments passed he looked at you with wide and horrified eyes.

“What?!” He bursted out fearfully.

——

After calming him down and explaining to him your situation and what he needed to do, he was ready. Ready to be a man and buy his woman the pink packaged pads with wings.

Only for you to realise that you had a tiny problem.

“Don’t.” You muttered as you quickly pressed yourself into sunghoon, clinging onto his neck like a monkey and restraining him from standing up.

“What’s wrong?” He wrapped his large hands around your waist.

“We have another problem.” Your cheeks heated up. Sunghoon raised his eyebrow in question. “Please don’t be mad. I know it’s disgusting but I think I stained your trousers,” you blabbered embarrassed.

“Stained? How?” He was deeply confused - for the 50th time today and the sun hadn’t even risen yet.

“Babe…” you knew he was just a man when you purchased him but you didn’t know how bad his knowledge about menstruation was, “women bleed, like a lot. And I know when I stand up, you’ll be shocked to see how badly I bleed. Since I couldn’t wear my pads it just soaked through my clothes and stained yours. You know, since I’ve been sitting on your lap for quite a while now. I don’t even have to check, I already know it. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okey, ha ha.” He tried to act nonchalantly but his face gave it away - he was mortified.

“Babe, it’s okey, you don’t have to act tough. I know it’s disgusting. I’m also disgusted every time it happens.” You put your small hand on his cheek and that’s when sunghoon snapped out of his fear and pulled himself together.

Suddenly he hooked his one arm under your legs and the other went behind your back. He stood up abruptly from the bed causing you to screech in surprise as your hold onto him got tighter.

He then carried you bridal style towards the bathroom.

“What are you doing, hoonie?” You asked startled.

“I understand where you’re coming from. Blood is kinda… disgusting. But you go through this every month. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide this part of you because I’d be disgusted.” He kicked the bathroom door open, “I want to show you that I love every side of you. Whether you’re sick, tired, mad - or bleeding like Mother Nature wants you to.”

He sat on the edge of bathtub with you sitting again on his lap, “I want to be there for you, no matter what you’re going through.”

Then he turned the faucet on and checked the water temperature with the hand that was holding your legs before he turned back to you. The same hand was now resting against your cheek as he made you look at him.

“I don’t want to be that kind of boyfriend where the girlfriend is in pain or is having some kind of crisis and she feels like she can’t tell him about it because he’d be mad or disgusted. That would be the worst thing actually.” The look he gave you expressed so much sincerity. The intensity of it radiated his love for you immensely.

You didn’t know what to answer him.

“What did I do to deserve such a sweet and loving boyfriend?” You pouted with teary eyes - your heart was aching with pure love and devotion for your boyfriend.

“I know what you did,” he smirked lightly as he leaned into your lips. You were too hypnotised to answer him, so when he pressed his soft lips against yours he whispered against them: “you were being an angel waiting patiently for your man.”

——

Following your session of soft kisses and giggles, sunghoon took off your clothes and helped you into the warm tub full of bubbles.

He then quickly took a shower while you were enjoying his singing from the tub.

“I’ll be back real quick, babe.” He kissed your forehead fully clothed again, ready to meet the cold outside.

“Alrighty, I love you so much and drive carefully! It’s icy on the roads!”

“I will, honey, don’t worry. I love you more.”

—————

You were cuddling with your boyfriend on your coach and were enjoying his warmth and some hot chocolate, when all of the sudden he spoke up:

“So, I’m at level 2 of ‘boyfriend’?”

You chuckled: “No, silly, you reached level 2 when we were together for 2 months. When you cuddled me for the first time while I was crying.”

“Then, what about now?”

“Today you jumped from 5 to 10.”

“Really?” Sunghoon was surprised, and of course proud of himself.

You hummed in response.

“And at what level do I get the privilege to ask you to marry me?”

You looked at your steaming cup, hesitating a little.

After a few moments of silence, you whispered:

“10.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pls reblog and comment; appreciate likes but tumblr doesn’t

Feedback is also very appreciated

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enha imagines #enha scenarios #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x you

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evilgwrl · 5 months ago

Text

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Four)

CW: Titty sucking (MY FAVE), horny asf Simon and reader, some pussy touching, Simon gets domestic for you xoxoxo

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

The sun was a bold ray of amber, slicing through every shard of glass with unbroken certainty, speckles of rainbows planting themselves among the eggshell walls, the only bit of colour throughout the bland room. Simon had awoken early, his brain working as a natural alarm clock as he took in the snuggled site of your slumbered frame, your hair falling against the bone of your cheek, lips parted and lashes dipping.

You were a pretty sight, even asleep and the Lieutenant had to find himself walking away, rubbing brown eyes with desperation as he hunched towards the kitchen, his frame skulking as he contemplated whether to cook for the both of you or just leave it.

He gripped his teacup, his coffee a sickening black, not even a subtle hint of sugar to drench away the bitter taste. He didn’t mind it though. Calloused fingers gripped the kitchen bench, his fingernails rugged and in desperate need of some care that, unfortunately, they would never receive.

Simon’s mind was littered with the flickering of gruesome images, depicting past scenes that have cast upon him. The silent images of bombs, the static in his ear ringing out the screams that seem to catch up to him every now and then. He watches as the residue of the coffee splashes down the drain, brown disappearing into the crevice of his pipe as he sauntered off to his bedroom, taking in the sight of an empty bed.

Your hands graced the doorknob, bones burying into your skin as you jumped at the intimidating frame of your neighbour standing outside, inches away from the door.

“Jesus,” you squeaked, voice timid, “you scared me half to death, Simon.”

Your hand rested upon your chest, soft skin flush with a morning hue, breasts strained against the skimpy fabric as you cleared your throat, the obvious undertone of sleep running through every note.

“’M sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Y’ want some breakfast?”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly shocked at him still wanting you over. Though he never made you feel unwanted (from the minimal times you had been in his presence), he was a quiet man, almost nurturing the environment of being alone.

“Don’t want me out of your hair?” You were half joking, a cheeky smile on your face as you stepped closer to him. His face never spoke, the most you had gotten from him being a subtle raise of a curled lip, his eyes gently jutting over you. For the most part, the only sign of communication you could read were the words that left his mouth, wet tongue occasionally darting out to coat his lips with the slop of his saliva, teeth teasing the dried skin.

“’M a gentleman. Could never let a lady sleep in my bed and not make ‘er breakfast.”

His voice was course like it was coated in leather and tobacco, his words strung with a sultry arrogance that only added to the arousal of the butch man. Heat settled in your cheeks; the apples were decorated with a light hue that was catered for by the words he let slip.

You nodded, slightly anxious, yet more horny at the way he stood so bold and tall above you, massive frame filling out the shirt that you were sure wouldn’t be as tight on anyone else. It was almost porn itself, watching the way he had to duck slightly to fit himself under door frames, the way his shoulders would nearly collide with the wallpaper as she shifted between rooms. His skin was littered with tattoos and scars, and his nose was slightly crooked (which you assumed was from it being broken).

Veins bulged through his hands and forearms, skin slightly peeling near his nail beds as he worked a knife through a tomato, sultry juices seeping onto the wooden chopping board. His eyes would occasionally dart to you, following your line of sight as he felt a proud hum purr gently through his chest, almost satisfied that you were taking in the sight of him. The air was filled with silence, the thickness of the words unsaid, instead spoken by stolen glances.

“Do you enjoy your work?” Your voice was quiet, almost like it was trying to find lost confidence.

Simon was quick to answer, turning around to look at you as he cracked an egg into a frying pan, oil splashing out amongst the quickly cooking liquid. “Don’t think enjoy is the right word, but ‘m good at it, I suppose.”

“So... you’re a soldier?”

His laugh was dry. “’M a lieutenant.”

You nodded, not fully understanding the hierarchy of chain in the military but you assumed it was a hard-working position, the sheer size of him and the residue that stained his body adding to the unneeded certainty that Simon was good at his job.

“Do you want me to help with anything?”

“You can set the table,” Simon nodded, motioning towards a draw. You grabbed at two knives and forks as you plodded over to the dining table, your feet skidding against the wooden floorboards. The hem of your nightgown raised as you bent slightly, placing cups down next to the cutlery. Simon sucked in a harsh breath, cock straining against the hem of his trousers as he looked away, focusing on the splutter of eggs and bacon in the pan. He stacked up your plate before handing it to you, a soft ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you sat down.

You were surprised that he was a good cook, even if it was as simple as eggs, bacon and grilled tomatoes. The only memory you have of a man working in a task force, being your Uncle in the Navy who couldn’t cook for shit. You let out a satisfied half-moan, almost muffled by the food in your mouth.

Simon heard it. The painful gripping of his fork barely justifies his reaction to the completely innocent sound you made.

“You’re a good cook,” you say, reading his face that was focused on his plate, his knuckles white and straining against the metal his fingers were snaked around.

“Thank you,” he replied, offering you a small smirk of gratitude.

You spoke a bit more, growing to understand your mysterious neighbour and who he was as a person. You looked down at your empty plates, offering to wash up to which he quickly refused and hushed you down to him just being a friendly Samaritan. Your knees wobbled as you stood up, the spaghetti strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder as it hung lowly on your bicep, cleavage pooling at the v-line of your dress.

Carob orbs lapped in the sight, pupil widening at the further display of skin, which you didn’t rush to fix. You were almost testing the waters, breaking the surface as you, both simmered in the atmosphere clouded with both desperation and demand. Thickened digits brushed against your other shoulder, resting there for a moment as you locked gazes, your lashes dipping slightly as you licked your lips, your mouth suddenly dry at the heat that radiated against your skin. The heat he was causing.

You felt the other strap fall from your shoulder, as you watched his gaze drop to your chest, his chest practically heaving as he took in the sight of your exposed breasts, nipples breaching through the fabric that had pooled at your waist.

His reaction was immediate, a rough hand groping at your right breast as he pushed you onto the table, your ass flush against the wooden surface as you gasped at his other hand coiling around your neck, chapped lips wrapping around your hardened bud as your fingers found a tight grip in his dusty hair, tugging at the roots.

Teeth grazed as your sensitive nipples, feverishly sucking as his fingers tweaked at the other, working against your chest with a burning fervour. A low moan left your lips as he switched over, a string of spit following his eager mouth as the pressure around your throat tightened.

The hem of your nightgown raised against your bucking movements, hips eager to please both you and him as the plush flesh of your thighs caught his attention.

The hand that wrapped around your throat quickly gathered at your legs, gripping them with demand as he almost growled against your breast.

“Lay back,” he demanded. You followed in suit, the clatter of cutlery behind you as you adjusted yourself against the table. Sticky thighs held themselves together as you looked up at him from your laid position.

“Such a good girl, hm? Spread your thighs for me baby.”

This almost didn’t feel real. Your neighbour who you had barely interacted with for years was standing above you, praising you. You sucked in a deep breath, achy thighs working themselves open as Simon lapped up the sight of your panties, darkened with your arousal as a thumb pressed against the fabric, admiring the way you bucked your hips.

You raised them as he slid your drenched underwear off before he bent down, sucking in a breath at the sight of your exposed cunt, wetness smeared against your pussy lips as two fingers reached out to pull them apart, webs of slick pooling against your heat.

“Gonna let me eat your pretty cunt, love?”

You’ve never said yes so fast.

#evilgwrl #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #simon riley #ghost #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon ghost smut #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost #simon riley x you #simon riley smut

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bluebirdsfeathers · 21 days ago

Text

Corporate Life

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summary: The disappointment of not being picked to be Wanda’s intern wasn’t going to stop you from settling into corporate life. Especially since you were assigned to work with her brother, Pietro, and she always found excuses to visit.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), no smut here but we might get there later (no promises tho).

A/N: I have an essay due that is less words than this and yet here we are. I’m going to introduce more marvel character each part. I have no idea how many parts this will end up being, but I know how it will end.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

The subway on a weekday morning was something you knew you’d never get used to. Everyone in a rush to get somewhere yet somehow nobody was moving even remotely fast. It was a miracle you’d gotten on a train and not just swept away by a mudslide of office workers. Heading into work you made you was straight to the elevators and back up to the third floor. Today you would be assigned to a department of the paper, and the anticipation was making you nervous. Unlike yesterday you were slightly early and where shocked to find you were the first one there. Taking a seat inside the conference room you were told to meet at, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling Instagram.

“I’ve never understood the obsession with social media,” A unfamiliar voice broke the silence, and you jumped slightly putting your phone down, “My apologies I thought you heard me come in.” Wanda smirked walking towards the other end of the long table, placing down some files, before walking back towards you. “I thought the paper was branching out into social media content?” Your voice came out a little higher than usual. Wanda stopped behind you placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a light squeeze “We are… but that has nothing to do with me.” She said with a laugh before leaving the room.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the interns showed up along with Dr Banner, as he told you to call him, who you’d met yesterday. He looked to be around fifty with greying hair and a permanently sad expression. One of the first things he’d done was list his multiple degrees and explain how he’d ended up working here as an environmental science editor. The Westview Paper was one of the oldest most prestigious news sources in the country, maybe even the world. It had been in the Maximoff family since the 1950s, now being run by Wanda since her father’s retirement. Today you would find out what department you would be interning in for the next six months. Dr Banner handed out an envelope to each intern, rambling on about how pointlessly dramatic this all was and how he had other more important things to do than this. Everyone was quick to open their envelopes, the wait was just too much.

Your file read ‘Sports and Fitness’ in bold at the top. You’d been on the women’s basketball team in college and had spoken about it in your interview, you loved sports so this should be a perfect fit, but you couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, she hadn’t picked you. “Lads look, I’m Wanda’s intern!” You turn to see Theo, who in this moment you decided you hated, holding up his file to the room looking far too smug. “I guess that proves I’m the alpha here.” You didn’t even entertain him with forced laughter like the others, you simply grabbed your bag and file and left to find a quiet spot to read. You discovered you’d be working for Pietro Maximoff, a quick google search told you that was Wanda’s brother and the head of that department. The file told you everything that would be expected of you over the next few months, some big and small goals as well as a weekly schedule that by the look of didn’t have you meeting with Pietro for a few hours.

To kill time, you decided to have a wonder around the building, the tour yesterday had given you a better understanding of the layout, but you still weren’t confident you could get from a to b without getting a little lost. Round every was another impossibly long corridor lined with doors and window into almost identical rooms that occasionally showed signs of life. As you rounded what must have been the fifth corner you saw a now familiar red head seemingly yelling at a room of men in suits. You stopped walking unsure whether to turn back or keep going like you hadn’t seen anything but before you could react the door to the room opened and the men hurried out, their heads held low like children after being told off. Your eyes went back to the room where Wanda stood, eyes closed, taking several slow deep breaths. Deciding it would be best to leave before you stumble upon something else you weren’t meant to see you turned around only to be stopped by Wanda calling your name.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” It was hard to read her tone, and a pit formed in your stomach worried you’d upset her. “I was just… familiarising myself with the building. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.” You stumbled all over your words. “I should go I need to meet Pietro soon and I…” Wanda’s eyes lit up and a smile graced her face “Of course you’re his intern, why don’t I walk you?” You tried to politely refuse her offer, not wanting to be a bother, but she out right refused to take no for an answer, especially after you let it slip you didn’t know where his office was. Turns out it wasn’t far, one floor down and across the walkway and you where there.

The sports department was unlike the other places you been shown so far. It was lively with open plan desks, no cubicles or grey walls, instead hanging around the room was a variety of different countries flags and sports team memorabilia. The staff talked freely amongst themselves; you expected the noise to die down when Wanda entered but it didn’t. You watched her talk with them and share a joke or two, a stark contrast to the rage you’d seen her display moments ago. “Now where is he?” She asked the man she’d been talking to.

“Wanda!” You heard an excited voice call from across the room, “Wands! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about this side of the building. We’re still being published right?” Pietro’s smile was the same as Wanda’s, warm with a slight hint of mischief. He was much taller than her, with bleach blonde hair and light stubble. “This must be y/n? Great to finally put a face to the name.” He said giving you a playful tap to the arm. “Look Wands I would love to catch up, but I need to get y/n settled.”

“Actually, there is something I need to talk to you about, but we need to discuss that in private. Can I steel you at some point tomorrow?”

“Yeah sure, you have my schedule so let me know when you are free.”

With that Wanda gave you both a smile and left.

Pietro made fast work of the power point he has prepared, and you were glad to hear business wear wasn’t mandatory in his department. Which was a relief as you only had two formal shirts and you’d already worn both. He sent you home early after reassuring you the missing hours wouldn’t come out of your wages and any disappointment over Wanda not picking you was gone. You were going to really enjoy having him for a boss.

The rest of the week went by quickly, you had so much work to be getting on with and so many people to get to know. Your desk was right by Pietro’s so he could keep an eye on you and help you when you needed it. You looked at the clock, it was quarter to five already, almost time to go home for the weekend. That was something you were excited about. This internship only had you working Monday to Friday, that meant you had the whole weekend to yourself. As you hit save for the last time on what you were working on you heard the door on the far end of the room open and looked up to see Wanda followed closely by Theo.

“Hi, Pietro, this is Theo, Theo this is my brother, Pietro. Y/n, you remember Theo, don’t you?” You nodded and watched as the two men shook hands. Yes, you did remember Theo, how could you forget a man that reminded you of all your high school bullies rolled into one and served with a silver spoon. “What do we owe the pleasure?” Pietro asked playfully.

“Oh, you know, just making the rounds, checking on all the new recruits at the end of the first week.”

“We are? I thought you said you needed to check on something important?” Theo said obliviously and Wanda gave a nervous laugh. “The wellbeing of my employees is important Theo. Now y/n how have you been?” You tried and failed to meet Wanda’s eyes as she gave you her full attention. “Good.” Was all you could squeeze out; you didn’t understand why she still made you so nervous. “He hasn’t been working you too hard has he.” Her voice was light and had the same playful tone as Pietro’s. Finally, you found it in you to look her in face and were surprised to see a slight blush that almost matched your own. “No, he hasn’t.” you said leaving an awkward silence in the air. “Well, we better head off, enjoy your weekend, and I’ll see you Monday.” Without another word Wanda left, Theo once again following closely behind.

It wasn’t long before the excitement and novelty of your new job wore off and all you longed for was the weekend. You’d gotten to know lots more faces around the office, even the lady at the front desk. You learnt her name was Pam and she wasn’t a huge bitch like you initially thought, she was just going through a divorce and her ex-husband, Jerry, was the worst. Somehow, you’d managed to develop a sense of normalcy working in this place. The only thing that kept you on edge were the surprise visits Wanda would do to the department; she was always finding a reason to come down here. Most made sense, like visiting her brother, checking on what stories were being published, but other times it felt like she was going out of her way to poke her head in seemingly just to talk to you, which hadn’t gotten easier yet.

Earlier today, while waiting for a copy of an article she’d tried to start a conversation with you. “I like your t-shirt.” Wanda said as she sat on your desk. “t-thanks, I like your blouse it’s… pink?” You said in return, unsure what to say. “What does it say? Radio head? I didn’t think young people listened to the radio these days.” She said lightly grazing her fingers across your arm. “Oh, Radio Head are a band… like music and stuff.” You shifted awkwardly in your chair, turning back to focus on your work. Pietro returned with the article and Wanda got up and left, giving you a light pat on the back as she walked past you.

The memory of that encounter played on your mind as you got ready to leave work for the day. “Y/n! Hey, I need to head to a meeting, I know you’re about to go home but can you go upstairs to Wanda’s office and drop this off? She needs to approve it before it goes to print.” Pietro handed you the latest copy of the sports news magazine, Wanda was big on seeing the final product physically before it was sent of to print so you agreed to drop it off in her office. She was never there anyway, far too busy to sit down with the election cycle going on. You headed to the lift pressing the very top button to take you all the way to the thirteenth floor, Pietro had given you his ID to get clearance to do so. Once the elevator doors opened, you walked into what looked like a living room, but what was just a very fancy looking wating area. There was a door to the left you assumed to be a bathroom and two large doors straight ahead that must lead to her office. You thought about whether to just leaving the magazine on the coffee table but before you could the large doors swung open.

“I don’t care who his father is! I’ve had enough of him! Who does he think he is anyway selling information to…” Wanda stopped her tirade when she saw you standing there with an expression of shock on your face. “Y/n? What are you doing up here?” She slightly snapped at you.

“Pietro told me to give you this.” You held out the magazine visibly trembling. “I’m sorry Ms Maximoff, I didn’t know you’d be here.” You voice shook slightly as you tried to stay calm while rapidly pressing the elevator button. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m leaving now.” The doors finally opened, and you hurried inside. “Y/n wait I didn’t mean to…” Wanda’s words were cut off by the doors closing as the lift took you back to the second floor. Breathing heavily, you tried to calm yourself down. You should have just dropped of the magazine and gotten out of there. Why must you always get yourself in these types of situations? You hoped it would be a while before you’d next see Wanda, maybe she would have forgotten all about it by then. Realising you were still clutching the magazine; you headed back to the sports department. Placing it on Pietro’s desk, along with his ID, you wrote a post-it note apologising, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed with you. All you could think about on your commute home was how angry Wanda looked over whatever it was she was yelling about. It scared you how she can be so warm and friendly one second then completely switch the next. Sometimes you forgot how rich and powerful she really was.

Once inside your apartment you kicked off your shoe’s and sat down on your mattress now being held up by your nice new bedframe. The money you’d earned from this job was improving your life greatly. You’d bought a new pair of trainers without having to wait for your current ones to be falling apart. If this mistake today ended up costing you your job, you’d never forgive yourself. Taking out your phone you decided to take your mind off things by clearing out some work emails you hadn’t gotten around to today but at the top of your inbox was a new message sent only five minutes ago. It was addressed to all the interns and marked urgent.

The subject read: ‘Meeting tomorrow 9am, Floor: 3 Room: 24B’. A new wave of panic washed over you when you saw it was sent by Wanda.

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

inspired by this post by @wandaslittlehorns

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #ceo!wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #platonic pietro x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wandavision #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #marvle wlw #wlw #lesbian #marvel x reader #fanfic

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sunflowerwinds · 24 days ago

Text

take care | s.a

summary: you get absolutely hammered at a party with your bestfriend, caitlyn, and you call your girlfriend to the rescue when your exhaustion hits you out of nowhere. sevika takes care of your intoxicated state and the groggy morning after.

pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane

contains: slight modern!au (they use cell phones), established relationship, alcohol consumption, cait & mel being BAD BITCHES, fluff, mentions of suggestive content, sevika being so attentive and patient <3

word count: 2.9K

a/n: absolutely self-indulgent, i wrote this the day after recovering from a hangover LMAO <3 i hope you all enjoy!!

You truthfully couldn’t remember the last time you had gotten as drunk as you were at this very moment. A friend of your best friend's had invited you two out to this warehouse party-club situation. You were hesitant at first, not knowing if you had that in you but the second you arrived at the apartment of the friend, who you found out was named Mel, and they were pregaming with Fireball and Malibu shots, you knew you were incredibly fucked.

You had a great time, granted.

Your best friend, Caitlyn, Mel, and you made new friends amid the crowd. The girls were so lovely, throwing compliments on hair, makeup, and outfits back and forth.

Before you knew it you had made your way onto the stage with the DJ, telling him to play a certain selection of songs. He even lets you queue them up on his laptop. You huff as you realize that you want to go home but Mel was talking to some tall man who was quite handsome off stage in a corner and Caitlyn was with you on stage but she was busy talking to a red-haired butch that was covered in tattoos on the other side of the large stage.

You reach lazily into your back pocket, pulling out your phone to call your girlfriend. You blink rapidly to try and focus your eyes on your screen, leaning a bit to one side as if that would help your slightly blurry vision due to both your intoxication and the number of strobe lights.

You successfully press the call button and hold the speaker up to your ear as you take slow steps over to Caitlyn, tapping her bare shoulder as she is wearing a rosewood red lace tank and a short black skirt. You mutter an apology to someone you bumped into as you tap on her shoulder again.

She turns her head around to see you holding up your phone to your ear, furrowing her brows.

“Wait, darling, who are you calling?” Caitlyn shouts over the music, one hand on the girl’s shoulder that she was talking to and the other brushing her long blue hair over her ear.

“Sevik– Hi, baby!” You beam as the line clicks, cutting yourself off before nodding to Caitlyn and mouthing, ‘Sevika’.

You think you hear a little bit of shuffling on the other line before you shake your head with a frown, looking up at your best friend. The line clicked off so you assumed you needed to go somewhere quiet to be able to talk to the woman you loved.

“Cait, wait a minute. I’m gonna,” you take a deep breath to stabilize yourself, holding a hand out to make sure you don’t face plant onto the ground. “‘M gonna go just a little bit outside so that Sev can pick us up. I’ll be righ’ back, okay?”

“No, no, you’re not going alone. Wait right here. Do not move.”

The taller woman turns to the butch she was talking to, sending her a quick flirty smile before leaning down to say something in her ear. You wait patiently for her, looking down at your screen again to see a few message notifications from Sevika.

from sevi ❤︎ | Babe, is everything okay?

from sevi ❤︎ | You did mean to call me, right?

from sevi ❤︎ | Please text me, my love. I’m getting a bit worried.

Your heart aches at the bright reminders that you have a girlfriend: who cares about your well-being. You look up to see Caitlyn placing a kiss to the woman's cheek before handing her back her phone. You swore even being as drunk as you were, you could tell how flustered that woman was. You understood though.

Caitlyn is fucking stunning.

“We grab Mel and we head outside, okay? I see her right there.” Caitlyn’s long arm hooks on yours, a big of a smug grin on her face.

“She was hot! You gave her your number right?” You squeal as you carefully step down with Caitlyn to the ground level once again.

A wave of nausea washed over you as you attempted to balance yourself out. You believe Caitlyn confirmed the fact that she had gotten the butch’s number but the next thing you remember is being face-to-face with Mel and the man she had been talking to.

She tells you his name, leaning in to shout it in your ear.

“Jay? Hi Jay! You are very handsome,” you shout in his face, a stupid smile on your face.

The man’s face twists in amusement at your state and looks at Mel with a softer expression. “H-Hi! It’s Jayce but thank you.”

Your mouth forms into an ‘o’ at how you misheard the name, stuttering out apologies. He waves it off, telling you it's okay.

“I think someone’s calling you,” the man, Jayce, points to your phone that was buzzing in your hand.

You look down at it, muttering a curse as it was Sevika calling you once again and you are still inside the loud crowded warehouse.

“Meli, we’ve got to go outside for a moment. Sevika’s calling her,” Caitlyn placed a hand on Mel’s forearm.

Mel looked between you and Jayce, excusing herself to the man and reassuring him that she’d be right back. He told her it was fine and to not worry about it. You couldn’t hold back your awe and wave ‘bye’ at Jayce as Caitlyn and Mel now had one arm hooked on either one of yours as the three of you made your way outside.

“I’ll call her back,” Caitlyn reaches for your phone that was gripped tightly in your hand.

You easily allow her to take it from you, resting your head on Mel’s shoulder as the fresh air hits you the second you step outside. You hum a random tune as Mel rests her head on your head too, rubbing her free palm on your hand.

Caitlyn took a step away from you two to dial Sevika on your phone again to let her know that you were fine and just wanted to go home. Within minutes after ringing her back, Sevika was in her beaten town truck just across the street. You gasped at the sight of it, even in your drunken state, you were able to recognize the familiar vehicle.

Sevika walks over to you three, greeting Mel and Caitlyn first before allowing you to wrap your arms around her torso to lean into her touch. You held yourself up weakly, stumbling over the curb.

“Sevika,” you sigh with a slight groan.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. We’re gonna go home,” the taller of you two leaned down to press a kiss to your damp temple from your sweat.

“We’ll see you on Monday. I’ll call you tomorrow to make sure you’re okay.” Caitlyn assures you with a sweet grin, leaning back into Mel now that you are clinging to your girlfriend.

“Wait, who’s taking you home? I don’ want you guys to be here alone,” you look up at Sevika and point your finger over her shoulder to her truck. “Let’s take ‘em home, baby.”

Mel and Caitlyn are quick to assure you and your girlfriend that the man that they were previously talking to would take them home as he was the DD for his best friend that he was with that night. You stare unable to remember for a moment who they were talking about.

“Ohhh, Jaycey boy! He seems really nice, Meli. I’m so happy for you,” you nod in approval with a thumbs up as you lean into Sevika’s chest.

“She has our locations, Sevika,” Caitlyn tells your girlfriend, hinting to her to check it every once in a while to make sure the man wouldn’t take them anywhere they weren’t supposed to.

Sevika nods in understanding, sternly telling the two to please be safe. Mel showed a photo of Jayce to Sevika to make sure she knew who this man was. Your mind only had bits and pieces of that night that you were able to remember.

For instance, after Sevika had picked you up, you couldn’t remember the drive home whatsoever. What you do remember is begging Sevika to get some Nacho Fries and a frozen Baja Blast.

You reached over her lap from the passenger's seat to tell the worker your order, Sevika placing a hand on your lower stomach to keep you steady so you wouldn’t fall forward and hit your face on the car door.

“Wait, Sevi, do you wan’ anything?” You turn your back into the car to look at your girlfriend.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, baby.” she leans forward to kiss your side before patting your hip to motion for you to sit back down.

“Mm okay,” you hum before telling the worker that should be everything and snuggle back down into your seat.

After paying for the food and handing it to you in the passenger's seat, Sevika told you that you were almost home and you could eat it then. You didn’t listen and ate all of the fries in her car and hounded down the Baja Blast with ease.

Thankfully, your shared apartment was only a few minutes away from Taco Bell.

Sevika had opened your passenger's side door when you arrived, holding back an amused at the giddy expression on your face. She held her arm out for you to grasp onto as you stepped down onto the concrete of the road. You hum to yourself as you look up at Sevika, raising your free hand to pat her broad shoulder.

“Baby, would it be so bad if we…?” You trail off as you giggle to yourself at the thought.

“If we what?” Sevika hums back as her arm slithers around your waist to hold you up as the two of you make your way to your apartment.

Sevika internally cursed as she knew you wouldn’t want to go up all of the stairs. You two lived on the fourth floor.

“Well, I don’t know. What we woul’ usually be doing on a Friday– Oh!”

You yelp as Sevika wraps her arms around your waist to hoist you up and over her shoulder, cutting off your words. Your hands rest on her lower back, grinning mischievously to yourself at the sight of her skin.

“You don’t feel like throwing up?” Sevika questions as she holds your thighs down with one of her forearms.

“Nuh-uh. ‘M lovin’ this view though,” you chuckle to yourself as you stare at her ass, blinking a bit to focus your vision.

Sevika shakes her head knowingly, smiling at your giggles the whole way up the stairs. She even felt your hands caressing her strip of skin that was exposed from her slightly cut-off t-shirt.

“You’re having fun down there?” She questions as she approaches your front door, reaching into her front pocket to pull out her keys.

You merely smack her ass to confirm her suspicions to which she lightly smacks your own with a: “Keep your hands to yourself.”

You twiddle with a loose string coming from the shirt as she carries you into your cool apartment, tossing her keys into the bowl near the front door. She kicks the door shut with her foot with a soft grunt, scaring you for a moment at the sudden movement.

“Baby, lock the door for me, please?” She asked you, scooting backward a few steps.

You lift your head, steadying yourself with one weak hand on her lower back as you reach for the three knobs. You twist each of them to the right with a soft click. Sevika kisses the side of your hip that is next to her face and thanks you before making her way down the hall to your shared bedroom.

“Sevi, I think I’m gonna throw up a little,” you warn her, hiccuping a bit.

Sevika’s eyes widen at your words as she carefully sets you down on your feet, holding your hips to lead you to the bathroom. You cover your mouth as you stumble to kneel next to the toilet, hunching over as you wait for the vomit to hit the water. Sevika quickly took her place next to you as she pushed back your falling strands of hair, gathering it in a ponytail in her fist.

“Let it out if you need to. It’s okay if you can’t,” she rubs your back with the other hand, wincing at your gagging.

You groan as you shake your head, eyes watering at the fact that it wasn’t coming up.

“It’s not– I can’t. I though’ I could, Sevi,” you frown up at her as you slump against the wall in front of the seat.

Sevika shushes you as she releases your hair and takes your hands into her larger ones, urging you to stand up.

“It’s okay. Let’s just get you to bed,” she instructs you gently.

You nod slowly, sniffling as you let her lead you back into the bedroom. You remember her carefully removing your ‘party clothes’ and putting one of her sleeping tees on you. She knew how much you adored them so at least you would have that to wake up to. She grabbed some of your micellar water and a rag to remove what was left of your makeup, holding your jaw in your hand as you kept trying to lay down once the comfier clothing was on.

After doing the usual night routine, you plopped down onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh as she snuggled your cheek into the pillowcase.

“Night, baby,” you hum as you smack your lips.

“Good night, my love,” she teases as she places a kiss on your cheek before rounding the bed to lie down on her side.

You pretty much passed out as soon as Sevika had lifted the covers over you two, mouth ajar and limbs awry.

You were never drinking again.

You thought as you carefully sat upright in your bed, squinting your eyes hard as the light from the morning sun was blinding you through your thin curtains. The headache and nausea hit you all at once as you covered your mouth, afraid of the bile that might escape. You wait a few seconds to make sure you aren’t actually going to throw up. Your eyes follow to your bedside table as you reach over to grab your phone, your movements slow as ever.

As you squint your eyes to focus on the screen, you see a few messages from Caitlyn and Mel; telling you they made it home and they were in fact not kidnapped. You then shift your eyes to the numbers at the top.

It was 9 o’clock in the morning; way too fucking early for the night you had.

You grunt as you gradually lay back down, wanting to stay still for the next three hours to not trigger the pounding headache to worsen. You peer over your bedroom door to see that it was left halfway open, the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Not to your surprise, it was Sevika with a small tray of food for you. You could hear her whisper a curse as she tried her hardest to not spill the coffee on it.

“Sevika?” You call out to her, your groggy and strained voice making your head hurt.

“You’re awake. Good morning,” Sevika tells you with a knowing and sympathetic smile.

You groan in response to her words, wanting to grab the pillow you were laying your head on and shield your face.

“I want to sleep,” you say right off the bat, frowning at her as you try to recollect the events of the previous night.

“I know, my love but can you eat this for me? You’ll feel better once you have food in you.”

Your girlfriend slowly sits herself down on the empty space next to you; her side of the bed. You knew she was right but you felt like you had to use so much energy just to sit upright, let alone eat.

And chew.

And drink.

It all sounded so… bothersome. But then you feel Sevika leaning over to press a few kisses onto your cheek and jaw, a hand rubbing up and down your arm that was out from under the comforter. You shut your eyes as you sigh at the feeling, wishing the kisses could push away your hangover.

“15 minutes,” she places one kiss on your jaw, “and then,” another to your nose, “you can sleep all day.”

You pretend as if you weren’t already set on eating as she continues to kiss as gently as possible every square inch of your face. Your smile grows as you force out a grumbled ‘fine’ as you steadily sit upright so that your back is resting on the headboard.

“You’re too good to me, Sev,” you tell her as you rub your tired eyes, yawning as she places the tray in your lap.

Sevika hums in agreement, playfully tapping underneath your chin with a hooked finger.

“Just eat. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

“No,” you reach for her hand, intertwining your fingers. “Never leave me alone.”

Sevika can’t help the smitten flush that covers her face as she takes your intertwined hands to kiss the back of yours.

“Never.”

You weakly smile at that before digging into your eggs, toast, fruit, and Tylenol with a long and collected sigh, enjoying the flavors of it all. You look down at your sleeping attire, feeling warm at the fact that it was Sevika’s.

Whether it was drunk, sober, or mind-numbingly hungover, she always took care of you.

TAGLIST: @eilishxo @nevergonna-give-u-up @archangeldyke-all @violynsb @lesbianpuppygirl @cutestdarkskin @moodient @starytree @capedyke @sameshoeally @lovinglynny @rurides @iluvwomensm

#wlw #sapphic #sevika fluff #sevika x you #sevika x reader #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x female reader #arcane league of lesbians #arcane show #arcane league of legends

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stellewriites · 2 months ago

Text

simon is a he/him lesbian in this fic. he’s a gender nonconforming cis woman & prefers using a masc name and pronouns

huge thank you to woolie, birdy, gougie, báir & three for being so encouraging and helping me with this fic and to kitty for making all of my oc names as always :3

this is a love letter to butches <33

Riley (he/him), 31, female.

Looking for a roommate ASAP. DM for details, don’t fuck me about.

you’d found the post on an online forum asking for a roommate and hadn’t hesitated to reach out immediately when you saw you were in the same city. your current roommate was only a few weeks away from moving in with her boyfriend, which would leave you with an apartment you couldn’t afford on your own.

although the post left everything to the imagination, the options for roommates were slim pickings and the single room apartments on the market were no cheaper, meaning you were getting desperate.

after a brief back and forth online with riley, he explained that his own roommate was moving out which was why he was looking for someone new to fill the spot. the apartment was cheap for the area - not that he told you where it was- and you’d have your own bedroom but you’d share the living room and kitchen, there were two small bathrooms, and storage in the shallow loft since it was the top floor apartment.

standard stuff but it sounded perfect.

riley was a blunt texter, but you assumed he’d maybe had his fill of people messing him about so far and just wanted to get down to business and find a roommate before he was stuck in the same position as you; paying double rent for a place that wasn’t worth it, digging into savings to stay afloat.

after covering whether you smoked (quit last year), had any pets (allergic), or liked frequent house parties (too shy), he offered to meet up to go into more detail about the place and you’d jumped at the chance, naming a cafe you liked to frequent near your work.

you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting when you arrived and found a table near the window - or more accurately, what you’d been picturing riley to look like - but you’d had to school your features into something less flustered when a tall woman in a baggy hoody and a pair of black work out shorts walked in and bee-lined for your corner.

as he walked your eyes glued themselves to his nike shorts as they rose up his thighs, indecently tight, showing off the thick muscle covered in a smattering of soft, unshaven hair, light enough that it glistened in the afternoon light. as he got closer you noticed a smattering of scars leading up his shins to his knees and stretch marks curving around the inside of his thighs.

you felt the urge to reach out and touch when you felt the weight of his own gaze taking you in for the first time.

“riley?” you’d asked hesitantly, when you finally managed to lift your head up to face him, cheeks ablaze. beneath his hood you could see that the scars continued on his face; almost prominently one ran from mid chin through his lips and up his cheek, another, smaller but thicker, ran from his hairline to two inches down his forehead slightly off centre.

you were mesmerised.

“prefer simon,” he’d corrected but nodded, his voice lighter than you’d expected but thickly accented.

he pulled down his hood with a scant look around the cafe to reveal a short cropped haircut, a little shaggy at the top. he took the seat opposite you and you sat up straight when your knees bumped accidentally. you snatched your legs back beneath your chair and clenched your thighs tightly together as the warmth of his bare skin throbbed through your jeans.

christ what was wrong with you? you had the attention of one hot, tall butch and suddenly you were a bag of nerves and fumbling all over the place. get it together.

“oh! yeah ok, cool,” you said and tried to smile normally. “simon.”

“not what you were expecting?” he asked wryly.

“uhm, no,” you admitted with an embarrassed little huff. “not exactly; i don’t really know what i was expecting though to be fair.”

“want to back out? no ‘ard feelings,” simon offered indifferently. guarded.

“no! no, i’m still very interested,” you insisted, biting your cheek when he raised an eyebrow at you in amusement. “i ordered already, uhm. got here a little early after work so i figured why not? i just got you a latte, i should’ve maybe asked.”

you felt wrong footed in front of his confidence. his legs were spread wide beneath the table, feet planted on the outside of yours and suddenly this felt less like a first meeting for a roommate and instead like your ideal first date.

you looked over at the counter and tapped your leg impatiently when you couldn’t see your drinks.

“that’s nice of ya.”

“i wanted to make a good first impression if we’re gonna be roomies,” you joked.

“mm.” he looked you up and down. “you messy?”

“excuse me?”

“i like to keep the place clean. deal breaker if you’re messy, it’s why soap had to move out.”

“soap? i don’t— yeah, i’m clean. tidy. i can keep my shit tidy,” you insisted. a waitress brought your drinks over on a tray and you thanked her quietly.

he smiled. “good, then this should be fine.” his foot tapped yours under the table. “relax. you said you came here after work?”

“yeah, i work nearby. sales calls, nothing interesting,” you shrugged and took a big sip. “pay is shit, but it covers half of the bills. what about you?”

“construction,” he said simply and your eyes drifted without permission to his hands wrapped around his mug then up to his arms hidden beneath his hoody.

“nice,” you choked out, visions of simon in a sweaty tank top throwing back a sledge hammer, not at all helping with the heat on your face and between your legs. “long hours?”

“sometimes,” he conceded. “s’why i asked about parties. don’t need to be coming home from work to an ‘ouse full’a dick’eads.”

you snorted.

“i can promise no house parties. well, maybe one around my birthday but i mean does inviting four people around for pizza really count as a house party?”

simon squinted his eyes playfully. “guess i can allow a little leniency here and there.”

you grinned behind your cup.

“what about your own friends? they swing by often?”

“not if i can help it,” simon huffed, a smile pulling at his scarred lip as you chuffed a surprised laugh. “tend to go to gaz’s or price’s house if his bird in’t home.”

the idea of a bunch of lads around the flat wouldn’t have necessarily been a deal breaker, but it was a relief to know it wasn’t going to be often regardless.

the pair of you stayed long enough to order a second drink while you discussed rent prices, tenancy agreements, and simon showed you photos of the area it was in.

“can show you the place now if you don’t need to head home yet?” he’d offered. “not too far to walk from here. could get an idea of the place and see if it fits.”

you’d nodded eagerly and followed him a couple of blocks away to a cosy, hidden away flat near the centre of town. you were surprised it was as cheap as he’d said given the location, but when the water refused to get hot in the kitchen sink when he went to wash a singular mug you soon caught on.

“boiler goes every other month, but i know how to fix it,” he’d said with a sigh, popping the kettle on instead. “taps, radiators ‘n shower all go cold.”

you winced, but it wasn’t enough to put you off. “landlord refuses to get it sorted?”

“landlord doesn’t answer my texts or calls anymore, think he got pissy w’me after i complained about him doin’ fuck all about the single glazed windows to the council few winters back.” you pursed your lips in order to not laugh but simon saw your expression and shrugged unrepentant. “arsehole needed tellin’, di’nt he?”

“i think this place will be perfect,” you settled on saying. you looked out of the nearest window and noted the working locks; the traffic was loud outside but you’d always preferred the constant buzz to send you off to sleep, the few times you’d been camping you’d not slept a wink in the silence.

he told you about the few other residents and explained the shortcuts you could take to get to work or for the shops and by time simon had finished giving you the tour of the place - a deceptively long space towards the back, hiding its double bathroom and bedrooms - you’d noticed it had gotten dark outside. when he noticed your furtive glance however, simon offered to drive you home without a second thought.

and again, not thirty minutes later when you were about to climb out of his truck with one last deep breath of his cologne, he offered to help you move in next week.

if that works for you, he’d said.

you’d started packing as soon as you got inside.

the only issue with moving in with simon - an issue you’d only noticed after having lived together for 6 months already, an issue your friends had to point out to you - was that the dating pool in manchester suddenly seemed a little drab. a little pathetic.

“i really don’t think si has anything to do with the fact that i can’t find anyone i’m interested in when we go out anymore, i think it makes more sense that all the hot women are just no longer single now,” you’d laughed when your friend had suggested it.

sure you thought simon was insanely hot, and that opinion had only solidified after spending the last half a year with him; seeing him braless more often than not beneath his muscle shirts when he lounged around the flat on his off days, pressing closer than necessary after a shower when you tried to pass by in the hallway, working out in the living room grunting and groaning as he hit his push-up goal, sweating and stretching obscenely as you tried to keep your eyes respectfully locked on your phone or the tv.

you were well aware that simon was sexy but more importantly off limits, so you didn’t let it affect your dating life. or so you thought.

“doesn’t help that you barely come out on a night with us,” emma pouted. “even less now that you hang out with simon most evenings.”

“when was the last time you hooked up with someone? even just kissed someone?” ash asked before you could defend your lack of social life, their eyebrow raised as if to prove their point.

you sighed. it had been a while, and taking care of things by yourself wasn’t really working out too well. simon always seemed to come home just when the frustration peaked enough for you to grab your vibrator, and you knew from the girls he’d taken home in the first few months that the walls were in fact thin enough to hear everything. with gritted teeth and wet panties, you always had to put it back in your drawer and wait for another day for some ‘me time’.

quotas for no nut november were being accidentally exceeded so much so that you were heading into catholic nun absolution. it was almost mid may; you needed to find someone to break you out of your funk sooner than later. get over by getting under or whatever.

“we’re not trying to guilt you into coming out with us,” emma added kindly, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “we know you don’t always like the crowd and that’s fine. but we just want you to be getting the dick or pussy that you deserve.”

you snorted and rolled your eyes. “what do you suggest then?”

emma shared a look with ash. “well…”

it hadn’t taken much more convincing from your friends to set up an account for you on tinder after that.

you spent some time on your profile, trying to find the right blend of funny but not too snarky, sexy but still approachable. it was a nightmare but the thought of getting your tits kissed and played with by someone else after almost half a year was enough to keep you on track. you just needed to focus and get it done.

——

as you walked back to your flat with ash after grabbing lunch together, you flicked through the options in your area.

“oh, she’s cute!” ash scrolled through the photos before cackling. “she’s funny too, listen, ‘if you google top places to eat out in the city, i’m the number one spot. better make your reservation quick’.”

you laughed. “oh that’s bad, si would find that funny.”

ash sent you a deadpan stare before going back to the profile. “so swiping right?”

you hummed and glanced at the phone again. “i don’t know, i don’t think she’s my type.”

“the last ten profiles ‘haven’t been your type,’ admit you’re just being picky,” ash pointed out.

“i’ve got standards is all,” you huffed. “i’m not just going to say yes to everyone.”

“she was exactly what you normally go for; strong build, blonde and funny in a dumb way according to the bio, aka you catnip,” they said. “hell, i’m surprised she’s not one of your exes.”

“fuck you,” you laughed and elbowed them. “i don’t even have a type, i don’t know why i said that.”

“oh please,” ash guffawed. “i can and will list the many attributes your exes all share if i have to.”

you sent them a scathing look and they held up their hands in defeat, a smug smile ruining their supposedly conceding pose.

“the only outlier was that weird austrian that i told you not to give the time of day to,” they continued. their face crumpled into a look of disgust, nose wrinkled and eyes pained. “could tell as soon as he opened his mouth that he doesn’t wash his dick.”

you pouted and ground your teeth in a grimace, unable to disagree on any count. he was certainly a lapse in judgement, you wouldn’t deny it.

“i’m just not feeling it, ash. i don’t want to waste her time when i don’t see the attraction. it’s not fair on her.” you shrugged and took back your phone to swipe left. “maybe my type has changed.”

ash stayed quiet a moment, looking contemplative as you both continued walking.

“ok you have a point. there’s no need to waste people’s time, but - and hear me out - everyone on there is just treading water trying to figure out who they want to fuck. she might spend a week talking to you and then ghost,” ash explained.

“great, cheers for that,” you chuffed.

“you know what i mean,” they rolled their eyes. “everyone’s figuring out if they want to go on a date or jump in bed with each other on there, you’re not wasting anyone’s time by giving them a chance. let yourself be wooed.”

“‘wooed’, i’m not looking for a mr darcy,” you joked.

“then actually give these people a shot, it’s not like they’re looking for marriage either,” ash countered. “or maybe you’ve got a specific person in mind distracting you that you’re making unfair comparisons to.”

you glared as you entered the apartment building. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed. you opened the app up again and bit your lip before swiping right on the first five profiles that appeared, showing your friend as you did. “there, happy?”

your phone buzzed and you looked down with wide eyes as all five accounts matched you back. the app directed you to the messaging centre and you looked at ash sheepishly.

“don’t you dare unmatch them,” they warned teasingly, pointing their finger at you with squinted eyes as you waited in the elevator. “go on a few dates and be spoiled for once. if nothing else, you get a good meal and some fresh air.”

you laughed as you finally reached your floor. you unlocked the door to your flat and dropped your coat on the back of a dining chair before slumping on the sofa with ash joining a second after sans their boots and coat.

“fine, fine. i’m on here for a reason, right? i might as well give them a chance,” you agreed a little reluctantly.

“give who a chance?” simon asked as he came from the back of the flat, passing through to the kitchen.

“my lovely bestie is finally on tinder,” ash said with a sharp grin aimed at simon. “hoping to find someone to fuck out the last six months of—“

“yeah thanks, ash! feel free to shut the fuck up, i don’t think simon cares about the details of my sex life,” you interrupted, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“no?” ash asked playing dumb. they pouted and turned back to simon. “my bad.”

you hadn’t noticed simon had grown reserved and quiet at ash’s outburst, too busy trying to save face and distract yourself with thinking of a decent opening message.

“and anyway, i’m just going a few dates first,” you corrected and looked at simon. “so don’t worry about me inviting anyone around to the flat or anything.”

simon nodded tersely before swallowing. “s’fine.” he looked shiftily over to the kitchen before moving to lean over the back of your seat, arms resting behind your head as he peered over your shoulder.

“show me,” he ordered softly. you shivered at the feel of his breath on your neck as he spoke and immediately opened the app again.

you chuffed an unimpressed laugh at the profile that popped up first. “‘want to surprise my boyfriend with a threesome for his birthday, any takers?’ jesus christ, the dating pool is so dire,” you whined.

simon chuckled behind you. “bloke looks like he’d barely be able to handle ya either, look at ‘im. he’d ruin his pants before you even took ya bra off.”

“at least i’d be able to concentrate on the girlfriend then,” you snickered along with him.

“nah, best you’d get from her is a bit o’ tongue for show,” simon said. “can tell by the profile ‘er heart’s not in it.”

you swiped left and simon was immediately ready to point out the failings of this profile too, and then again when you swiped left after laughing along, and again after that.

the way he leant over you blocked your friend from your view, but simon could see the knowing look ash was giving him directly in his peripheral, but he chose to ignore it. especially when he lowered one hand into your lap to start swiping left himself.

you let your free hand rise to play with simon’s long shirt sleeve before you suddenly took in his attire and frowned.

“why are you dressed for work?” you turned to sit on your knees facing the back of the sofa as he rose up to his full height to see him wearing his work trousers and steel-toe boots, his hi-vis vest tucked into his waistband.

“john rang, asked me to cover soap’s shift when he went home sick after lunch. i’ll be back from the lot later; might be late in the evening if i have to go grab a few things for ‘im from b&q before it closes for tomorrow,” he said, contrite.

you pouted heavy and exaggerated. “movie night’s cancelled? fuck you, john price.”

simon snorted, his scarred lip lifting at one side in obvious mirth. “i’ll tell ‘im y’said that, shall i?”

“fine with me, i’m not afraid of him,” you goaded.

“he’s ex military you know,” simon winced jokingly.

you rolled your eyes. “no duh. so are you.”

he hummed a low single note.

“and you wouldn’t let him touch a hair on my head, right si?” you continued shamelessly.

“i’d tell him there’s no point wasting time trying to teach you manners. any time i try to knock some sense into ya noggin it just echoes,” he huffed, holding back a smile as he tapped his knuckles on your crown for emphasis.

you swiped at his fist with a hiss.

“you can piss off to your job already then if you’re going to take the mick,” you laughed. you kept your hands to yourself otherwise, knowing better than to try and push him away after one too many failed attempts. his stomach was always firm enough to keep your best efforts from moving him, but topped with a thick and soft enough layer that it gave way beneath your prodding fingers and roaming palm.

“i’ll make it up t’ya. another night,” he promised lowly, bending down close again to whisper. as your pout lessened he nodded before heading out.

“wooow,” ash exaggerated and lengthened the word sarcastically as they sat watching you slump back to sit normally now that simon was gone. “it’s somehow worse than i thought.”

“hm?”

“does he always fold like a cheap suit when you flash the puppy dog eyes at him?” ash laughed.

“you’re seeing things, he literally just cancelled on me,” you argued and turned to the tv to channel surf. “are you staying for tea? think i’ve got the stuff in for a curry, could pirate that new horror with kyle gallner.”

ash rubbed at their chin. “don’t think i didn’t notice the subject change… but i’m listening.”

——

you got your movie night with si a few days later with the pair of you lounged on the couch, simon’s heavy, long legs draped across your lap as you waited for the take out you’d ordered to arrive.

your phone buzzed with a notification and simon perked up. “food here?”

you took a moment to respond, looking at your phone and tapping away for a second before shaking your head. “no, just a message.”

you phone buzzed again just before you could put it back down and you unlocked it again with a growing smile.

“oh, ‘s emma asking about dog sittin’ again?” he guessed.

“it’s not emma,” you said easily, without further detail, distracted by your phone.

before simon could ask, a knock at the door had him swinging his legs down and heading to grab the bag of food. he grabbed some cutlery from the kitchen on the way back before slumping heavily down next to you, spreading his thighs wide enough to press against yours.

he frowned when he saw you were still engrossed in your phone, a little secretive smile pulling at your lips. at the smell of the food you looked up and your eyes brightened, you put your phone back on the table and ignored it when it buzzed, helping simon instead, sitting back when you had your share and pressing play on your movie. when the phone buzzed twice more in quick succession you bit your lip and glanced at it.

“answer it,” simon said bitingly, having figured out who’d be messaging you by that point. the stupid, bloody app. “but tell ‘em you’re busy with a woman already.”

your eyes widened and you coughed out a surprised laugh. “si.”

“tell ‘em you’re not hanging out with ‘em next week either, you can’t make it. you’re busy with me instead,” he continued, the weight of his hooded gaze heavy and stifling.

“but i’m not busy, we don’t have plans next week,” you said weakly, confused.

simon huffed heavily through his nose. you’d almost think it was bordering on angry but for the entire time you’d known him, simon had never gotten angry at you, even when you accidentally shrunk his brand new sports bra on a too-hot wash.

you both tensed when your phone buzzed again.

“let me turn off my notifications,” you said and reached for the phone furtively. you skimmed your notifications and felt something bloom in your chest at the mention of a date from one of your matches, but you didn’t mention it to simon. “there we go, now we can focus on movie night,” you said with a grin, scooping another forkful of sweet & sour chicken into your mouth.

simon’s shoulders dropped and he nodded. he looked to your half empty glass and stood up. “want me to grab you another drink?”

you smiled, mouth closed and cheeks full of rice, and nodded as he chuckled. he turned away before the urge to poke your puffy cheeks won out and you accidentally spat rice out on the rug.

——

>> any new matches? 👀👀👀

you pursed your lips as you read the text from emma.

<< a few. might have a date next week

<< depends if she plays her cards right

>> lol is it the librarian or the electrician?

<< electrician. might give me mates rates if i ask her to check out the faulty leccy wiring in the flat :p

>> more like dates rates ;)

>> she was cute 😍 where’s the date?

<< she mentioned getting dinner, a new place that just opened up that she said was meant to be cool

>> the thai place? omgggg i’ve been meaning to go! give me ur review after pls and ty

>> and i mean the food, but any dirty deets are welcome too 👀👀

<< ???

<< i haven’t agreed to go yet

>> 🙄 girl…

>> what happened to giving them a chance, ash said you were on board

<< idk si was acting really weird the other day

<< he got really moody about it all, practically told me to fob it all off and just hang out with him instead

<< i think he’s worried

you had been watching a few murder documentaries lately, and one too many of them had started off as innocent dates or first meet ups that ended in tragedy.

>> i think he’s jealous

you stared at the text as your stomach flipped.

<< ???

>> he’s literallyyyy had a huge crush on u since forever

>> this is not news 😐

you scoffed but felt your stomach clench and hesitated to text back.

>> don’t believe me? just watch how he acts around you over the next few days and see if he does any of these repeatedly

emma sent a screenshot from a website listing ‘things she does if she likes you’ and you snorted. it felt trivial, like you were a teenager again, but you decided to play along.

<< fine. but he won’t.

you sent your quick affirmative back before putting your phone down and finishing your break.

the idea of simon liking you was an impossible one in your mind. simon had brought home women from the moment you’d moved in, it had never been a deterrent and he’d always said you were welcome to do the same as long as they didn’t stick around when he had a day off.

recently though, you thought, there’d been less and less women traipsing out of si’s room giggling and flushed, staring adoringly up at the tall butch woman. sadly, you knew exactly how good simon was in bed from the enthusiastic sounds of his previous partners over the months, so you couldn’t blame them for tripping over their feet as they were ushered towards the exit, an eager ‘call me, yeah?’ breathed out just before the door was closed forever.

that was another reason you’d never made a move. even if sometimes there had been moments where you had thought simon’s gaze lingered too long or his touch couldn’t be excused as just friendly; you couldn’t take being a one night stand. not with him, and not when you’d have to move out when your feelings inevitably bubbled over.

you bit your lip as you cooked that evening. simon was chopping the veg for your bolognese as you were left to watch over the pasta - last time you’d burnt it when you’d turned away and gotten distracted and you refused to let simon hold that over you for any longer.

“you know i can go stay at ash’s or with emma and her partner for a day or two if you want,” you offered out of the blue.

simon stopped cutting and looked at you.

“why the fuck would i want tha’?”

you swallowed. “i just noticed you haven’t had many people ‘round recently and thought maybe it was because i was home,” you said, barely meeting his eyes. “so i can make myself sparse for a few days, it’s no bother. i don’t mind.”

“i had johnny over just the other day,” simon said as though you might have forgotten. the boisterous scot had managed to fondly wiggle his way into gaining your friendship the few times he’d popped by for simon. “and gaz and the lads are all coming by next week. y’dont need t’ leave.” he went back to chopping though much more forcefully now, the chopping board dully thumping with each downward cut he made through the courgette.

“yeah… but what about other visitors?” you hedged. “the walls are thin, si, so i thought maybe you’d want the place to yourself again temporarily so you can—“

“no. i don’t want the place to m’self. i like havin’ you here, like hearing you move around in the night and in the mornings,” he interrupted without looking up. “you stay.” he paused for a moment, doubting himself even as you nodded along. “unless you want to go?”

“god no! no, i just thought i should offer,” you laughed a little awkwardly.

he frowned deeper.

“do you want me to go?”

you paused, you mouth flapping like a fish. this was an option you’d not considered. you noticed simon’s eyes grow more and more desperate, his grip on the veg in front of him tightening as he waited for your response.

“no. never, si,” you said.

he watched you a moment more before nodding. “good. wouldn’t have anyway.”

you snorted a laugh and looked back to the spaghetti, hissing when you saw it had stuck to the bottom of the pan. “shit.”

“…tell me you haven’t managed to burn it a second time.”

——

your conversation with simon reminded you of the article emma had sent you. it took less than a week to notice how differently simon acted with others in comparison to how considerate he was with you.

he made the effort to hold eye contact at the start of your conversations, and if you ever paused too long in your reply his eyes would flicker back up from where they’d drifted to his food or phone to check why. you’d never doubted he was always listening, but seeing it first hand reassured you that he was without fail. and it only highlighted, now that you looked for it, how closely he kept to himself when strangers tried to pick up a conversation with him, how he used as few words as possible on the off chance he did reply.

you wouldn’t hesitate to consider simon tactile, soft-handed and gentle. but you knew that was a privilege. the same with his smiles, spotted in flash of crooked teeth or the slow crinkle of his dark eyes paired with the pull of his scar on the occasion he wore his mask.

at your realisation, you began to check the list religiously each night in the safety of your bed as though trying to convince yourself that you hadn’t noticed the way simon mirrored your own behaviour. how he’d lean opposite you in the small kitchen, tilting his head a second after yours as you complained about work, boiling the kettle for a cuppa after a long day.

you’d pretend not to notice him on the phone twenty minutes later, cancelling going out with his friends, again, so he could stay with you while you relax for the weekend.

you found he’d swapped the brand of peanut butter you usually bought after the last one gave you a tummy ache without mentioning it, he’d asked about your grandad’s birthday even though you’d brought it up offhandedly weeks before, he let you run your hands through his hair near his scar when he napped on the sofa. the list went on.

but you’d already agreed to that date with the electrician.

——

“i don’t know if i’ve come down with something, my stomachs not right. i don’t think think i should go,” you complained as you got ready for your date, your phone propped up on your dresser with ash and emma’s faces on screen as you video called. “i feel queasy.”

“that’s just the nerves, you’ll be ok once you get there,” emma soothed.

“want us to meet you afterwards?” ash asked.

“maybe, yeah,” you hummed. “or maybe call me an hour in just in case it isn’t going well so i can have an excuse to leave?”

“how does ‘your long lost brother just woke from a coma and you’re the only one he remembers’ sound?” ash asked.

“dramatic enough for me to make my escape,” you laughed.

“you won’t need it,” emma reassured. “you’ll be too busy flirting and fawning over her muscles to even answer the phone.”

you laughed harder and the ache in your stomach faded ever so slightly as you pulled on your shoes and got ready to leave. simon was still at work, pulling some extra hours to get the job back on schedule after johnny’s time off, which meant the flat was empty as you left.

you bit your lip and headed to the restaurant, waving shyly from the entrance when you saw jessi, the electrician, already seated and waiting on you.

“hey, been here long?” you asked as you took your seat.

“barely five minutes,” she reassured you with an easy smile. “you look stunning, by the way. worth the wait.”

you thanked her, and took in her styled hair and half unbuttoned dress shirt from across the table. you felt a little underdressed in comparison but hid your insecurity when you smiled at her across the table.

“are you always this shy?” she asked when you stayed silent a beat too long, her grin turning sly and teasing.

you laughed a little self depreciatingly and shrugged. “it’s been a little while since i went on a date,” you admitted, butterflies starting to flutter at her sharp gaze.

“i’ll go easy on you then,” she promised and winked before handing you a menu. “what looks good to you?”

——

you’d thought the date was going fine, good, even. the thought of leaving hadn’t crossed your mind and when emma had called you’d screened it and smiled at the winky face she’d sent a moment later.

jessi was fun to talk to; her humour was maybe a little more forced than what you liked but it wasn’t a deal breaker. you’d thought she was enjoying herself too given the flirtatious comments, the lingering looks and how her ankle kept brushing yours.

but just before you could suggest ordering desserts, she stood and grabbed her coat.

“this has been…” she trailed off. “maybe you’re not ready for dating, you know?”

she’d dropped a few twenty notes on the table and left before you could ask what the fuck that meant.

you called over the waiter, covered the rest of the bill and made your own downtrodden exit soon after, dessert suddenly not seeming so appetising.

“tell me you’re going to her house to stay the night and that this is a safety call,” ash said as soon as they answered.

you huffed a sarcastic laugh. “nope.” you popped the ‘p’ and scuffed your toe along the pavement as you walked.

“fuck, this isn’t a good sign then. no dessert?” you heard emma mumble in the background.

“put me on speaker if you two are still hanging out,” you said and hugged your thin jacket tighter with your free arm as you started heading down the dark street towards your apartment.

“how’d it go?” emma asked a moment later.

“i thought it was going good,” you whined. “she was nice, we were chatting, i was engaging! but she just… left?”

“what were you chatting about?” ash asked.

“just the basics; work, friends, hobbies, roommates,” you listed.

“oh god,” emma groaned on the other end of the line. you heard her voice become muffled as though her face was in a pillow as she grumbled, “you didn’t.”

“what?” you asked with a frown. “it was good, she was being flirty.”

“yeah no shit, it was a date,” ash snorted. “how many times did simon come up?”

“don’t start this again—“

“because you were literally talking about him other day when we walked by a black and white cat just because it had little ‘socks’ and it reminded you to do laundry when you got back.”

“i promised to do simon’s while he’s been picking up extra hours,” you defended yourself. “he literally had to walk around shirtless the other week when i forgot to add them in for him.”

“oh, the grown woman who can and often does do his own washing just had to walk around with just a flimsy little sports bra and boxers on all day? sure, sure.” you could practically hear ash roll their eyes. emma snickered in the background and there was a slight shuffling which was never a good sign. “yep, here it is. and i quote ‘the way he’s built… like a damn chew toy. need to sink my teeth in to him, it’s like my jaw buzzes every time i see him with the urge to clamp down on his bicep.’ those are your texts to our group chat from that same day.”

“the texts i send when im ovulating should never be repeated out loud,” you hissed. “and do we really need more evidence that he’s synonymous with my wet dreams now, i’ve already admitted that i like him.”

“so you know this is a safe space,” ash said facetiously. “answer the question: how many times do you think you managed to bring him up in conversation?”

you chewed your cheek in frustration. ash would know if you lied but thinking back on it you didn’t really want to admit how many times you managed to bring up simon for your own dignity.

“look they had the same boots on, ok? and when she talked about her work it was the only way i could try to relate if i told her how simon had mentioned the same things,” you reasoned.

ash cackled on the other end of the phone and suddenly emma was talking while their laughter grew faded.

“have you looked at that list i sent you?” she asked, her tone oddly low and sobering.

“yeah, i can’t stop thinking about it,” you huffed. you paused to cross the street. “but it feels like i’m just making them up because i like him and he’s just being a normal roommate.”

“you’re not and he’s definitely not,” emma chuffed. “and i think you know that too.”

you were silent as you walked, your steps slow and careful even as the bitter cold wind snapped at your cheeks.

“he likes me?” you asked softly.

“no duh,” ash’s voice rang from the background making you laugh. they got closer and you could picture your friends crammed on emma’s shitty little couch as they spoke to you. “why do you think he’s always walking around flexing his muscles like that, huh? we’re in manchester, i don’t care if it’s almost summer, it’s not bloody warm enough for it!”

“and simon has you as his lock screen,” emma added like a 1-2 punch before you had chance to try and explain any of it away. “he always cancels on his mates to see you instead, and don’t get me started on how touchy he is with you.”

“he’s tactile…” even as you said it you didn’t believe it. though you couldn’t keep count of how many times this week alone si had let a warm hand land on your shoulder, knee, back, wrist, neck; you knew he barely touched anyone else.

"girl. simon?" emma snorted probably thinking the same thing as you.

“he likes me,” you said more confidently into the phone.

“oh thank fuck, she’s finally caught on,” ash said as emma laughed.

“i could literally be swapping spit with him right now and instead i’ve just wasted like two hours on a shitty date, oh my god,” you bemoaned.

you don’t know when you’d stopped walking but in a second you were speeding up to a jog as you said goodbye to your friends and hung up, fumbling to put your phone in you bag. eager to get back home and to see simon.

——

you crammed your key into the front door’s lock when you got home and groaned exaggeratedly when it didn’t turn. simon must’ve left his key in the door, again. of all the bloody times.

you knocked hurriedly, loudly, impatiently.

“siiiimon, open the door, come on i’m cold out here, you wouldn’t leave me shivering and lonely just because you forgot to put your key on the keyhook i specifically bought for—“ you cut off your joking whine when the most stunningly beautiful woman you’d ever seen opened the door to you, a knowing smile on her plush lips.

“oh,” you croaked. almost reflexively, your throat closed up and your eyes started to sting. “i must have the wrong flat.”

“what? no, you’re—” her smile dropped slightly and her dark eyes grew curious, but you didn’t stick around long enough to see.

“sorry, my fault! i’m meant to be on the floor above,” you rushed out and pretended to laugh. “silly me. sorry again.” tucking tail you turned to the fire exit at the top of the small staircase without waiting for a reply.

you knew the short staircase lead to the roof, simon had shown you one time and there were enough signs pointing it out. on the other side of the door was a small, flat balcony that stuck out of the slanted roof, and had old metal ladders that dropped 3/4 of the way down along the side of the building, in between the detached restaurant next door.

given you were the top flat in this little rinkydink building the woman at your door had probably thought you were an idiot and you couldn’t blame her. you decided to stick it out for ten minutes outside before sneaking back down and heading over to emma’s with your heart in your hands ready to be mended with the power of friendship and alcohol and food.

you sat down on the shitty little balcony and groaned loudly, desperately holding back your tears lest you fell into a despair and ended up accidentally falling asleep out of exhaustion and dramatics up there instead.

you’d finally realised your feelings and it was too late; simon had clearly taken your previous offers on board and moved on. you’d given him a free night while you went on a stupid date, what else was he going to do since you’ve been continually - though not purposely - pushing him aside like he was disposable.

“fuck,” you sighed shakily.

“date that bad you’re thinking of jumping?”

you swore in surprise and span in your spot to see simon leant in the fire exit doorway.

you couldn’t help but huff a weak laugh. “yeah it was,” you said before looking back down to your hands. “sorry, i didn’t know you were busy or i’d have gone to a friend’s instead.”

simon frowned and stood up straight. “stop saying you want to go somewhere else,” he said stiffly, swallowing thickly before taking the few steps to sit next to you. “when i’m here.” he knocked your shoulders together. “gaz said you freaked out at the door?”

you looked up at him in confusion. “gaz? that was ky— she’s called kylie, not kyle isn’t she?” you asked with wide eyes. simon’s accent had hidden her real name and convinced you all his mates were men and you’d never thought to second guess it. “christ, i thought she was— never mind.”

simon tilted his head as a knowing smile grew on his face.

“you thought i’d brought someone round for a shag?”

“well, she’s very fucking gorgeous,” you said defensively, crossing your arms. he leant his weight further into your side.

“mm. haven’t noticed.” at your unimpressed look he shrugged. “got my eye on someone else, ‘aven’t i?”

you nodded but avoided his eyes. seeing an unknown woman answer your door - gaz or not - had knocked your confidence more than you’d have liked to admit.

simon snorted.

“talk t’me, thought i was meant to be the quiet, brooding one.”

you looked across at him for a moment before leaning in to hug him tightly. you let the scent of his aftershave soak in and sighed when his own arms automatically wrapped around you too.

“you’re an amazing friend, si,” you whispered. and with how close you were pressed together, you easily felt how he stiffened at the title. you squeezed him harder in response, garnering yourself some more confidence at the same time, and sucked in a cold breath to speak. “and i think i’m a little bit in love with you.”

you felt a whoosh of air against your neck as the breath left simon’s body; he went loose in your hold and you buried your head deeper into his shoulder.

he tried to catch your eyes, ducking his head as best he could, but you’d thoroughly tucked yourself in against him as you felt a stinging heat spread from your cheeks outwards, your heart kicking its way through your chest and likely thumping noticeably against his own.

with gentle and patient cajoling, he managed to nudge you back up to face him and you offered up a wobbly smile.

“are you serious?” he asked breathlessly.

you nodded. “i’m sorry it took me so long to reali—“

simon coughed out a wet and surprised laugh and pulled you in for a kiss, his scar catching against your dry lips before you were able to slip your tongue out to wet them briefly. his hands were firm as they cupped your round cheeks, not letting you break for a breath until the very last second, determined to take all he could get before it came crashing down on him.

“y’r an idiot, so fuckin into ya. been a nightmare living with you, unable t’touch,” he mumbled against your lips and suddenly it was your turn to laugh into the kiss.

“unable? all you do is touch me,” you giggled, gasping when he took the chance to flick his tongue against yours.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you huffed. “drives me mad, si.”

“only gonna get worse here on,” he promised. “never taking my hands off ya, off your fat arse and soft tits.”

you sucked in a shaky breath. “fuck.” you’d be dripping like a tap at all times if that was the case and going by simon’s smirk, he knew it.

“i’ve had to deal with your dumb mate fucking teasing me about liking ya for months now too,” he grumbled.

“they’re not dumb.” you leant in to bite his lip meanly. “and i’m sure your friends will be teasing me for what just happened too, never mind me being so blind to be on dating apps while we were practically already together.”

simon groaned. “i fucking hated those apps.”

you kissed him sweetly in apology, a soft peck to the lips then each cheek as he greedily chased your lips.

“they’re gone now. my date was ruined because i could only talk about you the whole time. all i want is you.”

“yeah?” his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them as he tugged your jacket openand slid a hand under your shirt. his rough fingertips teased at the thin material of your bra and your nipples stood to attention under his ministrations and from the chill of fresh air biting at your tummy, bared when his arm rumpled your shirt. “want me right now?”

“always,” you panted. “but…”

you furtively glanced to the door.

“no one comes up here. i can be quick.”

“your friends are waiting,” you reminded him.

“fuck my friends,” he scoffed and tweaked at a nipple, grinning at the squeak you let out.

“would rather fuck you,” you joked weakly even as he pulled his hand back to pluck at your jean’s button and zipper.

“then what are we waiting for?” he asked.

you moaned and gasped when he slipped his hand down the front gusset of your jeans and into your panties before you gained the cognisance to pull it back out with a groan. “later, later,” you promised. “wanna get you naked.”

simon stared at you for a second and you worried he was annoyed at you for putting your foot down. he nodded however, licked his lips as he glanced back to the door and then dipped down to kiss you lightly.

“i’m kicking the lads out then, gimme five.” he stood and took few broad strides to get back to the stairs inside.

you laughed and called after him as he darted back down, taking two at a time as you followed with a grin, struggling with your jeans. “si, don’t be daft.”

“smartest move i’ve made in a long time.” he said as he walked back in to your flat. “everyone out. want some time wiv my girl.”

“ayy congrats!” soap called from the couch.

“that means now, soap.”

“don’t hafta tell us twice,” the scot stood with a slap to his knees and saluted simon on his way out. “ye coming, ky?”

“it was nice meeting ya,” gaz said as she wandered past, winking. you hid your hot cheeks in your shoulders but couldn’t help the flustered grin that spread as simon barely waited for the door to be closed before shedding his shirt, leaving him in a sports bra and his baggy trackies.

“get comfy. not letting ya leave til i’ve had m’fill.”

“funny you think it won’t be me dragging you back for more. let’s see if you can keep up, si. i’ve been told i’m pretty demanding.”

“always loved a challenge.”

you grinned wickedly. “come and get me then.”

butch/stud masterlist

updated mood board below (kept working on it after seeing kitty’s absolutely fantastic oc mood board and felt inspired by them!)

#BWUH IF U SEE THIS I HOPE U ENJOY FELLOW BUTCH SI LOVER #i was thinking of ur butch art when i said reader ruined simon’s sports bra lmaoooo like let the girls go free simon please!!!#this is so self indulgent but i loved it. like we’re sooo back you guys #of course the title is inspired by a raleigh ritchie song bc i’m obsessed like that #oh EXPECT more of butch simon from here on out #bc this might be the only way i want to fuck him lmaoooo #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #fem ghost #butch ghost #fem simon riley #female simon riley #female ghost #think that’s covered all the tags #female reader #fat reader #butch x reader

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nereidyke · 4 months ago

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butchfemme domesticity is so beautiful..doing your butch’s laundry, taking his coat off at the door when you get home from a night out, running your nails through his hair after a long day, rushing to clean up his plate after dinner, fixing his collar before he leaves the house.

when you’re washing dishes and he comes up behind you and wraps his arm around you, slowly swaying your body to music that’s only in his head, trailing kisses down your face and neck, touching your hips and your chest trying his very best to distract you. being carried to bed as a reward for taking such good care of him, scratching his back lightly as he lays on top of you, breathing warm air onto your neck.

then kissing innocently and wrapping your hands around his back, until it isn’t so innocent anymore and suddenly his belt is off and your hair is all messy but he still stops to tell you how beautiful you look before devouring you whole.

Waow..<3333 i can’t wait to be a wife

men dni

#lesbian #butchfemme #femme4butch #butch x femme #femme lesbian #domestic butchfemme #husband butch #femme wife

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milkteamoon · 8 months ago

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The first and only girl Martin goes out with is openly bisexual.

He doesn't know if she counts, if he's being honest — it wasn't a crush, he knows that, and years down the line, when he thinks back to it, he can't remember them ever having a proper conversation about the whole status of their single-night relationship. He knows she had short hair, and sat in front of him in math class, and needed a date to the fall semi-formal so she'd asked if he was busy that weekend, and he'd said no, and then she'd asked if she could borrow a pen, and he'd said yes. He couldn't remember her name if he tried.

He does remember the pink and blue bracelet on her wrist that she'd worn to the event itself, and then to get ice cream after, where he'd sat on the curb of some old parking lot at the edge of town with her and her friends and her friends' boyfriends and her friends' boyfriends' friends, none of which were his friends, because Martin didn't have many of those. Except maybe the girl whose name he couldn't remember. Though he's not sure if maybe-probably-not-girlfriends count as friends too when you're in high school.

"D'you like it?" she'd asked once she'd noticed him staring, holding up her wrist and not seeming to care as ice cream dribbled down her spoon and fingers.

"It's nice," Martin had said, because he's nothing if not honest. "Did you make it?"

She'd nodded. "It's a bi flag," she'd explained. "I'm bisexual."

"Oh," Martin had said.

"You know what that is, right?" she had asked. "Like, when you like boys and girls?"

"I know," Martin had said, even if it had maybe slipped his memory until she'd brought it up. "That's cool."

And then she'd nodded, and ate her ice cream, and Martin had taken her home with as little a fanfare as he had picked her up earlier that evening. And then winter break had rolled around, and she'd been put in another class the following semester, and then life and bills had finally caught up with him and there wouldn't be another semester after that. He'd never seen her again, so he'd never got a chance to ask. Never got a chance to choke down that knot in his throat when he'd left her house that evening, unable to get the words out.

He doesn't remember her name anymore, but he does remember the jealous ache he'd felt at her certainty.

Martin's first boyfriend is definitely gay.

That's how they meet each other, really — in a gay bar, where Martin has met plenty of other men (testing the waters, he's been telling himself; no harm in a little exploration) and gone home with them, except this one asks for his number afterward, and this one calls him back, and this one actually seems to want to go out for drinks the next week, and the week after that, and before Martin knows it he's quite certain that he's dating this man. It's wonderful, whirlwind of an experience. It's exhilarating.

It's bloody terrifying.

And it's not being with a man that sets his anxiety on edge. Martin...Martin likes men. That's definitely a part of his identity that he's been able to sort out, over the years. Martin likes men, and he likes dating men, and he likes having sex with men, and he'd probably even marry a man, if he had the chance, if that's where one of these loose and languid relationships end up.

It's just—

It's just that—

It's just that Martin always seems to be the odd one out in these groups. It's just that when Martin meets up with his boyfriend's friends at the bar, when they're all laughing and sharing jokes and clinking their drinks together in some toast that Martin had missed the dedication to, they all just...get it somehow. They know who they are. They all have some special word for themselves that fits them like a tailored suit: Jacklyn is a butch lesbian, and Lee is trans, and Tom is a bear, and Jordan is gay and genderqueer and Collin is a drag performer and—

He's a few drinks in, to put it lightly, when he leans over to his definitely-boyfriend and asks him how he knew he was gay.

"How did I know?" he echoes, taking a sip from his fizzy drink. "Easy, I liked men." And then he laughs like Martin has just told a funny joke, and maybe he has and doesn't realize it, so he tries to laugh along. Tries to ignore the ache in his chest.

Martin wishes it were that simple. And when the two of them break up, Martin wishes that he ached just as badly over the relationship too.

Tim and Sasha are bi. Well, no, Tim is bi, and Sasha is—

"Pansexual," Sasha says through a mouthful of reheated spaghetti. She holds a finger up as she chews, swallows, and then adds, "Well, I mean. It's like the same genus, I guess."

"Like a leopard and a cheetah," Tim chimes in, leaning over to put an arm around her shoulders. She puts a hand against the side of his face to put some space between them, knocking his glasses askew.

"Leopards and cheetahs are different genuses," she tells him. "You're thinking of leopards and jaguars."

"Nuh uh."

"Uh huh."

"Nuh uh nuh uh—"

"Uh huh uh huh uh huh—"

And it's—

He likes Tim and Sasha. They're easy to exist around. They don't make him feel like he's not welcome at the end of the lunch table, or like he has to be anything more than simply himself in their presence. Call it bonding over the shared trauma of all being trapped down here together. Tim's jokes about Jon never letting them see the sun are starting to feel less like jokes these days, and more like statements of fact.

Then Tim leans over, seating his chin in his knuckles, and says, "So, Martin, you going to pride this year?"

And then all of those nice, floaty feelings suddenly come crashing out of solution and dropping down into the pit of his stomach. It must show on his face, because Tim's smile falls as he backpedals.

"O-or not!" he says, holding his hands up peaceably. "I mean— geez, sorry, I usually think I'm pretty good at noticing these things, but if you're not—"

"What? Oh, no no, you're fine, I'm definitely—" There's something on the tip of Martin's tongue that he can't put a word to, hasn't been able to put a word to for a long time. "...not straight. Er, I— I like...guys, at least...?"

A smile curls across Tim's face — amused, but not cruel. "Hey, that's at least one thing we've got in common," he says and holds up his fist for a bump. The spark of anxiety hasn't quite fizzled away, but it's pushed far enough down that Martin feels he can humor him.

To his equal relief and horror, Jon strolls into the room not a minute later and sticks himself firmly in the crosshairs of Tim's sights.

"Boss-man," he greets.

"Tim," Jon greets back, neutrally. He strolls over to the kitchenette, digging out a tea bag out of the cabinet.

"Are you going to pride this year?"

Martin chokes on his drink.

"No," Jon says, retrieving a tea bag and filling his mug as if Tim had simply asked him about the weather.

"C'mon," Tim purrs. He reaches over and gives Jon a tug by his belt loops. "You're just gonna sit at home all weekend and leave us to have all the fun?"

"I don't particularly find crowds 'fun,'" Jon retorts, batting away his hand. He picks up his mug. "You'll have to suffer without me."

"How will we ever go on," Tim laments.

"You'll manage," Jon says, then promptly retreats to his office.

Martin simply sits there with his mouth hanging open, only daring to speak once he hears the final click of the door pulled shut. "...Jon...?"

Tim looks over to him, eyebrow quirked. "What?"

"Jon."

"Oh." A smirk tugs at the corner of Tim's lips. "You didn't know?"

"Wh— no!" It's not even that Martin has ever really assumed that Jon is straight. It's just that, out of people in the office to be open about their sexualities, there's Tim and Sasha, and then there's Jon. It's just— it's Jon. "Did he tell you that?"

Tim shoots a look to Sasha. "Well, no," he admits, "but you know how it is, you work with someone long enough and you just sort of...get a vibe, yeah?"

Sasha nods at this assessment. "Plus the fact that he did agree to go on a date with David that one time."

"Oh god, haha! I forgot about that."

"He's gay, right?" Sasha says, looking to Tim.

"I'm pretty sure he mentioned an ex-girlfriend once," Tim notes, poking his fork into his salad. "Bi, maybe...? I'm going to go with bi."

"Could also be pan," Sasha notes.

Tim thinks on this for a moment. "Mm, no, definitely bi I think. My bi-dey senses are tingling. Sorry Sash," he concludes, earning him a light kick to the shin from Sasha at the pun. He shoves a forkful of salad in his mouth before redirecting his attention back to Martin. "So, Martin. Pride, yay or nay?"

"Uh—" Martin blinks, viscerally aware of himself once more. He's not sure how to put I've never really thought about going into so many words that doesn't make him sound incredibly lame or formerly catholic, so in the end he decides on a redirect. He clears his throat. "I'm...not sure? Haven't really decided."

"That's fine," Tim says with a half shrug. "Though we'll be there, so if you do end up going, just text us and we'll meet up, yeah?"

There's a little plant inside Martin, something green and budding, but never able to bloom — always pruned too early, or watered too late, or bitten off by the frost. But some days, he thinks about opening the curtains and letting in the sun. Some days, he thinks about letting it bloom, finally, fully—

"Yeah," Martin says softly, looking up from his open palms. "Yeah, that'd...that'd be good."

And despite himself, he smiles.

Martin is—

Martin is quite certain he has never been sweatier in his life.

It's a wonderful time. It's bright. It's beautiful. He's seen so many colors and grins and glitter on more people than he can count today. People holding hands and people kissing and people dressed in outfits he can't even begin to describe, genders he can't even begin to put names to, flags he can't even begin to guess the meaning of. His heart feels so big in his chest he could die, pushing on the bars of his rib cage with each resounding thu-thump, and it's wonderful, wonderful, wonderful—

(And so very isolating. So very lonely when he feels like he's not meant to be there, like he wasn't invited, like he's invading this space carved out in neat rows of labels that he can't even straddle properly to get in line. He doesn't— he can't—)

Martin finds a moment of shade just as he feels he's teetering on the edge of heat exhaustion. He stumbles under the awning, smearing the sweat and residual glitter out of his eyes as he leans his head back against the wall. Music hums from the street over, voices carry on the warm summer air. He really needs to find something to drink, so he can appreciate it more instead of focusing on the way his shirt clings to his skin. He really should find Tim and Sasha, before they get off into any trouble.

Someone lets out a huff next to him as they lean back against the wall, and Martin peels open an eye to look.

And then both his eyes snap open at once, double taking at the man standing next to him. He doesn't seem to notice him at first, too focused on fanning himself with some pamplet he'd snagged along the way, but then his gaze shifts sideways, and the pinched expression smooths out into one of blank bewilderment.

Jon blinks, wide eyed. "Martin."

Okay, well that at least solves the issue of whether or not Martin is supposed to be pretending not to know him or not. He clears his throat, trying to smile. "Jon...h-hi."

It's not even the fact that— okay, well, yes, seeing Jon at a queer event is pretty weird, but seeing Jon outside of work, in jeans no less, is certainly not helping the sensation that Martin might very well be hallucinating this interaction. He looks him up to his thick-lensed glasses, down to his plain sneakers that have seen better days, and even pinches himself for good measure. Jon doesn't move. Martin isn't sure that he himself would be able to move either, even if he wanted to.

Then Jon's brow furrows, and he looks around. "Are Tim and Sasha around...?"

"Oh, n-no, they went off," Martin gestures vaguely in the direction he'd last seen them, "somewhere."

"Ah."

"Mm."

"Right."

"...What...are you doing here, exactly?" Martin finally asks in some burst of unsourced courage.

Jon's winces, red-handed. Not that Martin would ever say anything to Tim or Sasha about their boss going to pride without them on his own time — it's honestly none of his business — but he also knows that if the two of them suspect something is up, they'll never let either of them live it down.

Jon sighs, shoulders drooping. "I...an old friend, she— she didn't wish to come alone this year, and apparently I'm the only other queer she knows that doesn't enjoy getting plastered off my arse at these types of events, so—" Jon shrugs lightly.

There's something about the way Jon says it, the only other queer, that leaves a funny, prickling sensation in the center of Martin's chest, and it's not just the heat giving him a rash. It's just...it's nice. It's nice the way he says it, all casual like he's just giving Martin another report to follow up.

Jon pushes the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, giving Martin a sideways glance up and down. He redirects, "You know, I would have thought you'd be more, er..."

"More...?"

"...Well, dressed up, I suppose?" He gestures to Martin's outfit — a pair of khaki shorts with pockets stuffed to the brim in emergency snacks, a green t-shirt with the local football team logo, an old pair of sneakers he really needs to replace — in a vague enough gesture to slip just under the line of insulting, but still enough to make Martin feel horribly seen. Granted, Jon isn't much better in his plain blue polo, but the fact of Jon being in jeans at all is currently eclipsing the fact that he's a tad underdressed for the event.

But—

But it's not that Martin doesn't want to. It's not that Martin doesn't want to be a part of this moment, this moment, this microcosm in the middle of London of so many people like him. It's something he's always wanted. Something he's always dreamed of, something he'd thought about all the way back in his high school bedroom when he'd had all these feelings knotted up in his chest that he couldn't put a word to, still can't put a word to, doesn't know how to put a word to even though it's right there in front of him if he could just stretch out his fingers—

"I thought about it," he admits with a shrug. Tim and Sasha were each dressed in a blinding shower of color and glitter, and he knows they'd never make him feel out of place. "It's just...there's too many—" He stops, takes a deep breath, and tries to ignore the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. "There's too many words, I guess?"

Jon pauses his lazy fanning, looking up at him. "Too many words?" he parrots.

Martin wets his lips. "Like— like— like, everyone has a word for themselves, y'know? They have a flag, they have a group, they have— have people that they can relate to, and then you feel like you find something that almost right, but it's not perfect, and you— you—"

And you don't fit in, Martin doesn't say, because the rushing stream of words has suddenly stopped up in his throat, choking him. And you definitely aren't straight, but you aren't queer like everyone else is. You aren't queer in the right way.

Jon looks at him for a considerable moment, and suddenly Martin is all too aware of his body, his bones, his sweat, the itchy prickling of his skin—

Jon sighs as he gives him a half shrug. "So don't be anything."

The music from the street over lulls into a faint hum.

"What?" Martin says.

"So don't be anything," Jon repeats, enunciating as if he thinks that Martin misheard him. He frowns as he chooses his next words. "I'm not...it's...I..."

Martin waits quietly.

"I..." Jon says, "I guess when I was just starting to— to figure things out, I was certain I was gay. And then I went to uni and I had...a multitude of other things to address, and then for a bit I was...straight? I guess? And that was a whole thing, and then I was bi, and— well, I guess I'm technically still bi, but it's not...not exactly correct—" He frowns, looking up at him. "I guess...it just doesn't really matter to me? You don't...have to be anything."

Martin opens his mouth. He closes it. "But—" he says, tongue feeling thick in his mouth, "but—"

But then I have to be me, he doesn't say, even if the words are trying to push out past his teeth. But then the only thing I can be is me.

"...But that's scary," Martin says without meaning to, only hearing the words as they pass through his own lips. His eyes blow wide as he looks down at Jon (at his boss), and knows the simmering heat flushing down to his chest has nothing to do with the weather.

Jon stares at him for a quiet, considerate. And then he turns his head away and lets out a very undignified snort.

Martin feels his world tip onto its side.

It had to be a snort. It can only be a snort, even if Jon doesn't snort because Jon doesn't laugh, and Jon doesn't laugh because Jon doesn't smile, and Jon doesn't smile because Jon is typically too busy snapping at him over some stupid mistake he's made for the umpteenth time—

Jon looks up at him again, and he's downright grinning. Martin is quite certain he needs to be doused over the head with a bucket of ice water, or pinched hard enough to draw blood, or sent off to the hospital to get his head checked out because what the fuck. What the fuck.

"As my grandmother was so fond of reminding me, 'if it weren't scary, everyone would be doing it,'" Jon says finally, peeling off his glasses to wipe the sweat from the lenses onto his shirt. He places them back on his nose, then pushes himself up. "You should find Tim and Sasha," he says. "And I should find Georgie before I get left here. Again."

"Uh," Martin says, still trying to mentally recover from the fact that Jon smiled at him, and now everything feels like its been knocked into an alternate universe slightly to the left. His head feels weird. His chest feels weird. "Right."

"There's a—" Jon points a thumb behind himself, "a place we can cut through, if you want to—"

"Oh. Oh, yeah! Yeah, lead— lead the way."

It's not perfect, Martin thinks.

It's not perfect, but it's close. It's close when they step out of the alley back onto that crowded street, when the colors all bleed into a mess of a million different rainbows as far as the eye can see. It's close when they both get sprayed with glitter, Jon scowling and swearing as he tries to get it off himself and sending Martin laughing so hard that his sides ache. It's close even with the heat, even with the noise, even with the shouting because there's laughter in between laughter in between laughter again—

"Would you like a button?" a girl with green hair asks as she sits behind a table of every flag Martin has ever seen and then some. He takes a moment to look over each one carefully. Jon wanders up beside him, looks them through, and carefully selects a pink, purple, and blue one, to which he silently deposits in his pocket.

Martin picks up a plain rainbow one, considers it, and then pins it to the left side of his shirt.

It's not perfect, he thinks, but it's close enough.

#thought too much about martin being demiromantic and complicated during my writing warm up and accidentally wrote ten million words about it #oopsies #sorry in advance if this has like. ten million typos in it i cant be assed atm #the magnus archives #tma #milk writes

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