itty bitty thang for @rubyfrankenstein my love, but. . .butch(er) simon riley. . . 🤤
you're a nice girl. polite, quiet, a little young. . .and definitely too curious for your own good. a soft laugh, although simon's got no clue why in the world you're laughing in a place like her shop, where the counter's tucked aaaaall the way in the back and the only feature you can make out through the cast shadows and the harsh light are two dark eyes, watching as you drift through the selections.
but your curiosity knows no bounds, of course, and so you venture closer. warm and tucked into yourself, you bring with you something like frangipani and goat's milk, watching a little too intently as her arms flex with the effort of hauling down a slab of pork.
simon notices. of course she does. maybe she catches your eye as she slams her cleaver through bone, fingers curled around the handle in a way that makes your mouth go dry. maybe that makes the sharp glint in her eyes catch the fluorescence a little brighter.
one day, you finally pipe up with a question outside of the usual employee-and-customer dialogue.
"you make it look so easy."
simon stills, watching you like a hunter would watch a hare in the brush. you don't budge, your smile sweet and a little disarming. she huffs out what you can almost trick yourself into believing is the tail end of a laugh, crossing those delicious arms as she stares down at you.
"'s not."
you tilt your head, an exhale from laughing. you can be mysterious too, you think. "i know. that's why i like watching you."
she's quiet; then, a full laugh. . .or, as much of a laugh as as a deep sigh can be. "y' got strange tastes, girl."
"and you don't?"
simon turns to face you from where she's begun to lift the knife again, the mean glint of it sending a pinprick of something curling in your lower belly.
"you lookin' t' find out?"
"s– simon, fuck, oh fuc– oh my god–"
and now she's laughing, low and a little mean as she bullies two fingers into your weeping cunt. "yeah? wha's th' matter, baby? begged so nicely for it earlier w' those big eyes, and now y' can't even tell me what y' want?"
you cry out, nails pinching into the cushions of simon's beat-up leather couch as she works her wrist in that way that makes you see stars. the butt of her palm is bumping against your clit with each pass, and god–
"please," you mewl, thighs struggling to clamp around her thick torso. "oh my fucking– mm–"
simon brings her free hand up, patting your cheek with her fingers to get you to open her eyes.
"words, sweet thing."
fuck, you feel like you could sob. "please, please, simon– h– haah– harder, harder, oh my god ohmygod–"
another laugh barks up from simon's throat as she obliges, fucking her fingers into you with reckless abandon. "that it, baby? just listen t' you. . .harder, harder, pleaaaase—god, y'r so fucking whiny."
you hiccup around a moan, your back twitching as it bows up and off the couch. you can barely form words, too overwhelmed by the orgasms she's tugging out of you one by one. her teeth descend on your throat, sinking into your skin like you're a piece of meat she wants a cut of.
"yeah, honey, keep whining f' me. . .won't be able to make a sound when 'm done w' you."
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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
moodboard masterlist
updated mood board below (kept working on it after seeing kitty’s absolutely fantastic oc mood board and felt inspired by them!)
hello hello! a little birdy told me you're accepting yuri obey me (•‿•)
i would like to ask fem!mammon and fem!levi making out with reader and oops! turns out the reader's lips are now painted with the character's lipstick shade! how do they react to that? this happened on my first kiss w a girl... it was embarrassingly obvious we kissed LOLOL
ty for reading my ask! isa out
female mammon and levi get their lipstick on you when you kiss <3 gn reader and suggestive!
𝑚𝑎𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛
mammon is definitely a lip gloss warrior. she’s always got her favourite shade in her pocket (along with a matching liner). you’ve seen her go through 3 tubes in a month.
ah, you’ve got a little…
hm? what?
nah, nevermind. its nothing.
did you get distracted by my beauty?
…maybe. will ya let me go again? i’ll stay focused this time. promise, baby. she answers — that large, giddy grin creeping up on her face.
you relent, of course you do, and press your lips to hers once again. she moves down, nipping at your neck and kissing down your chest. murmuring promises against your skin about how she’s gonna make you feel so good.
she won’t say it out loud, but it isn’t hard to tell she saw something with the way her pupils grew ten times bigger when her eyes flicked down to your lips.
truth is, mammon loves laying her claim on you. it was bad enough back when you’d borrow her lip gloss, coat your lips using the same wand that touched her lips only a few moments ago… but now she’s leaving her mark on you directly, and nothing could give her more of a thrill.
later, you’re met with varying reactions from her sisters (mostly disgust) when they see the mess mammon made of your face. she stands next to you, pure satisfaction and pride running through her at the thought of everyone knowing who you really belong to. as if you couldn’t feel your own sticky lips the whole time…
𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑖
i don’t particularly hc levi as someone who wears lipstick a lot, she’s more of a chapstick kinda girl. but ! the exception is when she’s cosplaying. she needs the look to be perfect and definitely asks asmo for help with the makeup too.
thinking of kissing her after you help her record an outfit check,, she just looks so pretty, it’s rare to see her all dolled up like this. she tenses at the sudden press of your lips against hers, but slowly relaxes, moving her lips in tandem with yours.
after… a while, you pull away, out of breath and heaving. when you look back up, you notice levi’s cheeks flushed bright red, the pretty blush travelling all the way to her ears and down her neck.
o-oh- i’m so sorry!! i r-really didn’t mean to get it on you! this is so embarrassing… um, s-should i help you? ah, no- you wouldn’t want me touching you… anddd there she goes, stuttering and apologising for no reason at all.
her voice dies in her throat when you place a comforting hand on her shoulder, prompting her to look up at you and the red smeared all around your mouth. she almost launches herself at you, sending the both of you tumbling to the floor, her lips on yours once again. she decides she doesn’t mind wearing lipstick more often if it ends this way.
You're Simon's childhood friend in this Choose Your Own Adventure -- and his thirtieth birthday has just rolled around. What happens when he brings up a silly promise you made when you were kids?
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Choose Your Own Adventure
🔗 READ/PLAY HERE
🎮interactive fanfic "The Vows We Never Forget" by kitpuello
📖 Episode 1 of ?
You may think yourself very clever if the idea of tricking your jester and expecting to leave unharmed is plausible. But you don’t think that much ahead do you?
Because it’s the thrill that gets you grinning and cheerful. All cooing and pawing at Jestyn, calling him over and of course he so obediently comes to your beck and call, grinning all sly and foolish.
“Kiss me, kiss me!” You smile, all bright like sunshine and the sight of it all but makes his heart melt. “Demanding today, are we, your majesty?” He grins, playfully pinching your cheek, preening when you giggle, “‘s not like you ever said no, before!”
“I have not.” He smiles, and the warmth in his tone is undeniable. You almost feel bad. Almost.
All too easily, his hand finds its way and cradles your face, craning your neck as he lowers down to meet your lips— and cheekily, you swerve your head to the left, instead of your lips he only meets your cheek instead, kissing the side of your face.
Jestyn blinks once. Then twice. Face still hovering oh so closely to yours and it takes all your strength to not burst in laughter and only smile innocently up to your jester as he looks down at you, confusion in his usually so composed gaze.
“Your grace?”
“Mm?”
The confusion painting his visage doesn’t stay long, slowly, like any dangerous predator, a sharp grin carves itself to his face. His eyes ever still holding hearts for you, “Are you toying with me?”
Like the very image of purity itself, you blink innocently, shaking your head accompanied by the softest ‘No’.
“Is that so?” He tilts his head, and he lowers himself closer to you. Lips hovering just over yours again, and just at that very last second where his lips could meet yours—
“ACHOO!” You feign a sneeze, turning your head away in an act that you were pretty sure was convincing.
… Looking back at Jestyn though, he looked anything but convinced. Though he hardly looked disappointed. Maybe you would feel safer if he had looked disappointed. But no, he was still smiling. His grin too sharp it makes you think he’s been scheming.
“So.. very funny your majesty.” He chuckles, the sound low and menacing from where you are. His clawed hand comes up once more to cup the side of your neck, sharp fingers tracing against your skin. You shiver.
“Although, it breaks my heart to see you avoid me.”
He lowers his head again, and you brace yourself, wondering if he’s coming to kiss you again.
And he does kiss you, but this time aiming at your neck. And embarrassingly, you yelp, it’s a helpless sound that only makes Jestyn chuckle, and goodness did it make you weak.
“Did you have your fun, your majesty?”
Kiss
“Surely you’ll let me have fun too?”
Kiss
“You already know well I can’t resist you.”
And to your already crumbling will, you feel him lick a stripe up your throat. His tongue all slimy and in your surprise, you call out his name, pushing against his shoulders qs he cackles.
“I thought we were playing a game, your majesty?” He kisses the skin of your throat once more, with each one he rises just a bit closer until he reaches the side of your throat, “I wasn’t—“
You feel the edges of sharp teeth lightly sink to your skin, not exactly biting — but close enough that if he wanted to, he could break skin. “You were.”
A horrible thump, thump that only showed your weakness, pulling away, your jester towers over you. Face inches away once more, “You’re so cute, your majesty.” Fondly, he tucks a strand of hair away from your face.
SNAP!
Before you knew it, he's returned both of you to the security office— the dim lightbulb still on, and the room vacant. Your jester easily finds his way to sit atop your bed, taking you with him, his lap becoming your seat. Both of you, closer than ever before.
You could feel your heart still racing. And Jestyn looked all but calm as he pulled you closer by the waist, arms wrapping snug around you to ensure you don't fall or slip away.
He looked pleased with himself, amused as he watched you, ever so trying to avoid his gaze.
Despite your efforts, his crimson-hearted eyes only met yours as his hand cups your chin, tilting your head. You can’t move away as he leans in, his lips meeting yours.
And you melt into him, as enticing and fun the prank was, you can’t resist him either.
You find him still grinning when you pull away, his hand moving to cup your face instead whilst both of your faces stayed a flushed red.
Those crimson eyes of his glowing in a way that made him look feverish, "..I win."
…
“You cheated!” Snickering, he retorts, "I was only playing along, did I not please you, my lord?"
You huff, your mouth in a pout, embarrassed still by what transpired. This was not how the prank was meant to go, you tell him this. Crossing your arms, still seething.
He sees this, and chuckles again. Pulling you closer to his embrace, and did it only make it harder to be angry at him. "Your anger will pass, my liege. I'm sure of it."
KOM Jestyn belongs to @thepipiuw !! Drabble itself belongs to An0nymous-C !!
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The King is a puppet you find easily pleased. Well, so far you think. Actually, you can't tell. With as many praises and riddles he gives you, you're not quite sure if you've pleased him just yet.
He looks for a Jester, that's what he told you first. A servant to amuse him at his darkest and to remain forever loyal at his side. Telling you how this kingdom is filled with nothing but liars and traitors, that he needs someone he can trust. A little plaything to be his fool and lookout. Something, something how this kingdom was not as prosperous as it once was. Left to ruin long, long ago.
You speculate it was caused by someone, with the way his gaze lowers and his face becomes forlorn. His name is Jestyn, although - you don't have the privilege to call him that yet though. For now, it's 'Your majesty' or 'your lord', to be far, any honorific works or else it'd be off with your head as he says.
And you're not exactly eager to find out.
The King holds great power beyond your understanding, somehow able to move you from place to place with the snap of his fingers - you're not exactly given much to work with aside from a threat of a axe to your neck if you don't follow him well.
You know, most night guards usually just clean and watch the CCTV. They don't exactly go around doing ball tricks. Like how you are right now. Trials, he calls them. Trials to prove yourself worthy to be by his side, but frankly you're more concerned about living another day. And so, you try. Try to amuse him, try to remain composed as crimson red orbs follow your form and delight in your panic. When you stumble and miss in catching the balls, his sharp grin grows further in a way you don't like.
He's seen better entertainers that could bend and contort their body at will, and yet your clumsy hands still fail a task of balance and precision. "How disappointing" He murmurs, allowing the words to fill the silence of the threatre. But for reasons beyond your knowledge, he's still smiling, as if Amused.
The trials continue forth. Sing a song for him, and you try, even as notes come from your mouth messy and shrill. At one point your voice cracks and instead of an axe, you hear him chuckle. His clumsy little songbird, he says. Next, is a dance. Then a card trick — and slowly you start to think he just enjoys teasing and humiliating you than anything else. For any task you fail, he snickers with affection. When you succeed, he smiles, his gaze lidded and fond.
By the time you finish with your trial, you're left breathless and racing. Tired and exhausted from the long night of amusing a puppet that should've been in his room. He can hear it in the way your heart flutters as you try to recollect yourself. It is a delightful sound, to hear your heartbeat. In some way, it made the ache in his own chest lessen, to see you try so hard. All for him.
Alas, there is one trial left.
You wince when he calls your name, and you fear to imagine what sort of command he tells you next. Maybe a backflip or a handstand, or something equally more demanding. He does not. Sat upon his golden throne, his hand extends, beckoning, telling you to come closer.
...
You're unsure for a moment. Hesitant and cautious to follow the words of a king who threatened your neck, but with little options left, you follow. You stop a polite distance away from him, and he hums, tilting his head. "Closer" he tells you. You do as told, until you are in front of him, close enough that you admire the ornament at his chest and the crack in his face.
Just as you study him, he studies you. His own sharp eyes following the lines of your face to the column of your throat. "Kneel." He tells you next, his voice a commanding velvet and it takes great strength for you to swallow your pride, and get on your knees.
It's embarrassing for one. Humiliating in a way that has your cheeks flush and eyes avoiding his gaze, and he finds to like that look on you. Seeing you squirmish and shy. But he doesn't tolerate your avoidance for long. His clawed hand moves, and you tense, frozen still as his hand cups your chin, raising it so you may look at him.
His gaze makes you weak. A fact that isn't lost to him and only made his wolfish smile sharper. "Scared?" he asks you, and despite your fears, you nod, pliant in his grasp. He chuckles again, the sound melodic to your ears. And you begin seeing him in a different light.
The King was handsome. Undeniably so. His presence an overwhelming pull that tells you to look at him as he looks down at you.
By then, his grip on your chin releases, and his treatment is gentle. No more trials. No more tests. Only his gentle touch as his hand places itself and cradles your cheek. You find yourself relaxing in his presence. The sight of you slowly succumbing to his touch is one that engraves itself into his mind.
You both stay like that for awhile. Stuck in that quiet present where you both existed, him, above you and you beneath his feet. And you find you didn’t mind as much.
Before you know it, you find your head guided to rest on his lap. While it makes you a bit flustered to do so, you follow anyway, unable to do anything else when his hands ensure you do as your told. His hand rests atop the crown of your head now. Caressing the cradle of your hair as he watches you.
Humans. So soft. Fragile.
You indulged in the peace, still reeling from tonight’s events until the kingly puppet speaks up once more. His voice quiet and longing. He seems to talk to himself for awhile. About a feeling that lingers after both your time well spent. Its one he cannot describe. Close to happiness but not. When you turn your head to look, you find his gaze distant. Longing, you see it faintly. But you stay quiet.
You continue to listen well, and soon, your king’s attention returns to you. “And what of you, songbird?” And you find yourself in a conversation with him different from the rest. He asks you questions, and you answer. Your last unofficial trial you think. When he asks you what would you do for one you love most, you say, everything. A lot of his questions go like that.
"Even as the world turns against them?" You pause, and in his presence, nod. You love them, and loving someone means to care and understand. If they were your lover, you'll trust that they'll explain themself to you before you believe anything the world says about them.
Jestyn, or well, the king is silent for a moment. Hand still atop your head and you worry you've upsetted him, pushed too far, and maybe this is where you die now. Unpaid and unfulfilled.
His hand leaves you, returning to grasp your chin and tilt your head. His gaze is ravenous and smile sharp, you are perfect. Everything he desired and waited for. Seconds, days, months, years — All coming down to this.
You feel something click against your throat, a cold metal weighing heavy and when your hands panic, you find a collar snapped into place and you're forced to look at him again. "Mine." is what he calls you, my servant, my pet, my plaything, my fool, all his.
His grip turns tighter now, bringing your face closer to his - close enough that you feel his breath waft against your face. He towers over you, in the same way a predator finally cornered his most prized prey. And as your heart beats and mind race, you drown in the red of his gaze, as everything turns black.
KOM Jestyn belongs to @thepipiuw !! Drabble and AU belongs to An0nymous-C !!
Let’s say it is time for Mc to go BUT there is a terrible storm outside of the kingdom that would make their way back at home a bit risky
Would his majesty, in all his benevolence, teleport them back to their home, or would he see it as an excuse to keep them with him during the day, in the theater ? And if so what would happen ? Would his jester have some rest time or would it be extra hours despite their tiredness ?
Love you works, take care of yourself <3
Ha, it’s funny you think you’re leaving. Because there is no leaving. At the first hint of lighting thundering loud outside, you can already see it in the way your king’s eyes narrow at you that he’s made up his mind in keeping you there.
So, you’re correct! Because in all his benevolence, he’d likely see it only rational to keep you within the theatre and an even better excuse to take you to his chambers where it’s warm, quiet, and did he tell you his bed is spacious? Many pillows and blankets to cuddle with! (Part of him is already excited at the thought of you in his bed)
But alas, it’d also depend on how further along both you and the king’s relationship are.
Say it’s been weeks or a month and so, but sorry to say your king is incredibly stubborn and also hard to argue with. Try as you might, he’d likely decide it then and there for you that he wants you to stay. Do you understand, songbird?
He expects no argument in this because there is no argument, and you best think well before considering arguing with your king. Because most often its a losing battle when his smile becomes too sharp and gaze daring you to finish your words.
He’ll remind you dearly he expects an obedient little jester, but if you insist in being so insistent he’ll have to maybe consider. Your king does not need an axe or a sword to threaten you, he all but needs his taloned hand wrapping around your neck to do the work for him.
You will remain with him until the day rises and the storm settles, you will be good and you will obey.
For a moment, his clawed hand grip tightens, talons threatening to sink into your skin before kindly, he releases. Moving instead to cup your chin, raising it so it’s him and him alone you see.
When you’ve nothing else to say, he’ll tell you, “good.” And likely usher you to his chambers as promised until the storm rides its course.
Believe it or not, the king has no foul intentions. But it is funny how easily he carries you to the bed like a doll, I like to think he’d feel very pleased seeing you comfortable. Though considering his height, that bed must be pretty big and you pretty small.
It’d set off some thoughts, but none that he’d act upon. He’s moreso interested in keeping you comfortable, so he’d tell you to shush when you begin flustering again when he removes his cape and joins you in the bed.
It was only easy for him to maneuver you into a position where your back met his chest, and his arms encircled you close. He likes you this way, soft, compliant. It’s annoying as well if his close presence affects you greatly because then he’d chuckle against your ear and tell you how sweet you are.
Go to sleep, songbird. Come morning, you may return home. But tonight, you are his.
But in the other scenario where it’s been a few months down the line in your relationship, I’m talking communication and development has happened to some degree, then your king is much more open to hearing you out in your complaints.
So when you tell him no, that you want to go home, he’s obviously not too pleased to have you leave so soon. But even with his possessiveness, he relents. It’s simple anyway, with one small snap of his fingers, you both return to your house.
Emphasizing the both by the way, because it’s not an impossible occurrence for Jestyn to decide he wants to stay with you a little longer and sleep over in your home. Yes, it’s a bit of a struggle to share a bed, (another reason why staying at the theatre is the better option) but otherwise, the king likes taking up the opportunity to visit you in your home.
Usually these visits only happen when you’re asleep, but he supposes that the house is quite different when you’re awake and he’s welcome. It’s cute to watch you do your day to day. But with the storm, it gives a good excuse for movie marathons and snacks you recommend, to which, your king doesnt mind.
⤷ ROUTINE | JESTYN X GN!READER ˎˊ˗
SYNOPSIS ﹕ Your duty is simple: when a puppet comes to you with their troubles, you give them your just aid and move on to the next. Though your duty becomes fickle when a certain jester insists on being unpredictable in his fondness with you. What becomes of your routine when he decides to change the script?
꒰KISSBAITING
⤷ AVOID HIS KISS PRANK | JESTYN X GN!READER ˎˊ˗
SYNOPSIS ﹕ How funny would it be to baffle your jester for once, and what could be a good simple prank be other than avoiding his affections? Although, mayhaps it doesn't go as well as you think. Surely you'd let him have some fun with you too?
⤷ TRIALS | JESTYN X GN!READER ˎˊ˗
SYNOPSIS ﹕ Alternate Universe wherein Jestyn is the king of the theatre in search of a Jester of his own. Either prove yourself useful and please the monarch, or perish by an axe to your neck. Don't keep him waiting, Songbird.
꒰AU CONCEPT + ART | SITTING ON HIS LAP | STOPPED GOING TO WORK? |TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT |TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN | MULTI-QUESTION | STAGE FRIGHT | YEARNING {HE'S BOTH) | WHY SONGBIRD? | MASOCHIST?| MAKING YOU CRY | COLORBLIND | YOU HAVE A CAT? | STORM
GIGGLES I like to imagine Jestyn was just a teensy winsy bit annoyed. Not at you of course!! Oh, who are we kidding maybe a little bit yeah because you were oh so close, what stopped you? I’d imagine he gets a bit huffy when remembering it some times because you were almost there!!! Why’d you go off script? I jest, I jest
Nonetheless, he would never be angered by his majesty. Frustrated, maybe. But every failure is simply another chance for him to learn and inch closer to success.
But still, the memory of it lingers. Any moment close to you is heaven to the jester I would think, only you would be so kind to treat him carefully.
Seconds, hours, days, and years he’s waited. Do you know what that does to a creature? To never know until now they needed someone in such a way this badly? Only to be denied?
If he were anyone else, he would’ve taken what he wanted regardless. But no, he’s your jester. And you are his majesty. He wouldn’t do anything so beneath him. He’s yours, that he’s assured of. You’ve cemented this yourself the moment you held his collar.
It makes his nonexistent heart race and ache remembering you so near him, your hands cradling his face as if he meant something delicate to you. Your lips hovering just over his, and he wonders painfully what it would feel if you both had kissed.
The thought alone only serves to make his chest stir and obsession spiral deeper. Oh your majesty, just what have you done to him?
KOM Jestyn belongs to @thepipiuw !! Drabble itself belongs to An0nymous-C !!
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