Poly butch 141 who have a bet running for who can seduce their new neighbour first... though they all know that in the end she will join them all but it beings some excitement to their civilian lives.
Maybe their darling doesn't quite know she's a lesbian yet, or well, dosent accept it. She goes on dates with men and each one has her coming home alone- each time a different 141 gal leaning on their door frame asking how her night went...
"You look real nice in those dresses, honey, wish you'd wear 'em for people who deserve them"
"Oh yeah? Well you try matching witha guy who isn't a jerk on a fucking dating app!"
"😏 that's why you go for women, sunshine"
“that’s why you go for women, sunshine.”
the easy way in which gaz had said it, the confidence behind her words as she’d stood and leant her elbows on your shared front garden fence, had the idea echoing in your mind for days to come.
you’d been tempted to delete the app all together after the last date, but maybe your neighbour was onto something. maybe you’d have better luck editing your profile and trying out a few dates with the single women in your area instead.
hell, it couldn’t hurt to try, couldn’t be much worse than the dates you’d been on recently at the very least. and it wasn’t like you’d not thought about it before, either.
you’d always shut those thoughts down before when you’d been growing up, but now? you thought about the heat that pooled when you caught your neighbours kissing, or working out in their garden, smoking on the back step or smiling at you when you got home around the same time as them. you thought about it and knew something had to be done.
mind made up, you changed a few of the details of what you were looking for on the app and refreshed it, feeling giddy instead of resigned as you swiped through the profiles.
—
a few nights later, walking back after your date hand in hand with the gorgeous woman you’d spent the last hour laughing with, you caught simon with a smoke dangling from his mouth as he took out the bins. he always pulled yours from the front garden and onto the pavement too without you asking, setting it neatly next to his for the garbage men in the morning.
watching him in his routine, pausing to take a deep drag before continuing, you suddenly felt shy, and a little bit… guilty?
it didn’t help when your date walked you to your door and smiled at you, told you how much fun she’d had and how she’d love to take you out again sometime soon.
half of your attention was on simon as he stalked back up his path, hesitating at his own door mere feet away from yours as he puffed on the last dregs of his cig before stubbing it out on the side of the fence, his eyes never leaving yours once.
you could only nod along to what she was saying, distracted by the grimace pulling at his scarred lips until suddenly she was leaning in and kissing you.
you floundered, hands fluttering up to her shoulders to gently push her back with an awkward, airy laugh, hoping it played off as bashful and nervous more than mean or uncomfortable. you did like her, your date, but simon’s nosy presence was throwing you off.
“you’ll call me?” she asked, a little more hesitant now, and you nodded eagerly, feeling guilty for a whole new reason.
“yes, definitely,” you promised. “i had a nice time too,” you confirmed belatedly. she smiled and leant in to kiss your cheek chastely before heading off with a wave, leaving you to stand awkwardly at your door while simon watched you blatantly.
you flicked your eyes across and smiled stiltedly, feeling like you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar for some inexplicable reason.
“have fun?” he asked, crossing his arms over his binded chest.
“yeah, she was uhh— she’s nice. it was nice,” you said and cleared your throat. “took kyla’s advice on trying to date women, she might’ve been right after all.” you forced a soft laugh out to ease the tension but simon seemed to only stiffen when you mentioned his girlfriend. “anyway… thanks for grabbing the bin again, i owe you one. see you later.”
simon wasted no time entering his own home once you were out of sight and bee lined for gaz, sat on the sofa with her legs across johnny’s lap and her head on price’s shoulder. the space simon had left was still empty and price patted it enticingly.
simon had other priorities.
“you,” he said menacingly, pointing at kyla. “she was on another fucking’ date.”
johnny rolled her eyes at the same time as gaz. “let me guess, the bloke wasnae a stunner.”
“wasn’t a bloke,” simon huffed.
price’s brows rose at that, attention caught and held tight.
“what?” gaz asked as she sat up.
“she said she took your advice and she’s started dating women now,” simon huffed as he finally dropped into the seat next to price. “‘your advice’. what the fuck did ya say to her?”
gaz looked sheepish as she thought back to the conversation and sat up straight. she rubbed the back of neck and winced. “basically said she’d have more luck dating women, we’d appreciate her more.”
“and by ‘we’ did it sound like you meant us, or women in general?” price pushed.
“probably women in general,” she grumbled. “but i didn’t want to lay it on too thick and scare her away!”
“fucking hell, gaz,” johnny groaned. she called her hands and stood with fanfare. “right, time for the big guns. i’m sunbathing naked tomorrow.”
“it’s raining tomorrow, johnny,” simon said flatly.
“great, then i’ll be naked and wet, she’ll have no chance.”
“you’re all muppets, jesus fucking christ,” price sighed into her hands. “johnny’s right about one thing though. subtlety hasn’t worked.”
“what’s the plan then?” gaz asked.
price smirked. “we’re going to tease her ‘til she can’t take it anymore. push her past her breaking point.”
18+ warnings for dub-con and obviously incest
simon is a he/him butch lesbian
in this probably a similar situation to older brother simon x little brother reader, except in this simon calls and visits from time to time. never misses your birthday but doesnt stay long afterwards. she's just your distant big sister. your 16th is when simon reluctantly brings a friend. johnny, who laughs and slaps simon on the shoulder when he sees you.
"didn't know you were a big brother."
it doesn't mean anything to them but it makes something slide into place in your chest. big brother. the words make you spiral, face warm as you realize all the boys you've crushed on up to this point have resembled your big brother.
it's a bit mortifying but nothing changes for the next six years. and suddenly your 23rd is coming up and you're still fantasizing about simon. you used to tell yourself you'd grow out of it. that never happened, if anything it only got worse. now, you rationalize it by telling yourself it's because simon is too perfect, too handsome, and too good to you. a knight in shining armor and more. it's not your fault the boys you dated when you were younger and the women you date now could never be him.
so when simon comes home and starts to really look at you, sees you as the woman you are now. well you can't help but preen when he stares at your chest and hips. even if later, shame crawls in your stomach and makes you skittish around him.
and simon notices, it's not like you're being subtle. walking around in no bra and tight shirts, tiny shorts that hug your ass. it's like you're begging him to snap. only to act ashamed, embarrassed afterwards.
he'd never thought about it before, not until he saw the way you eyed him and how you've grown into yourself on your 22nd birthday. a perfect pair of tits, soft body. he sees what you want, even if you're too scared to actually say it. but it's okay, he figures a good fuck will sort you out. he brought the strap-on home with him this time for a reason.
For your consideration: Meeting older butch Simon when she takes pity on you playing pool and losing miserably in the dyke bar. Pressing up behind you to adjust your aim, kicking your feet wider to change your stance, being a little mean about how bad you are at it in your ear.
uh huh, i'm listening
you had been playing poorly. you knew that but you had to keep trying. you'd finally worked up the courage to go to the dyke bar across town (all by yourself, too) and you couldn't back out now.
it was a sweet older woman who was playing against you. sweet, but vicious, not letting you get away with anything and thoroughly trouncing you. it was when the older woman started to giggle with her friends that you realized she wasn't as sweet as you'd thought and you started to feel your shoulders creeping up to you ears in embarrassment about your playing style.
you eyed the door and thought about ducking out a quick exit but you knew yourself. if you left now, you'd never come back and would stew on the interaction for months. no, better to try and stick it out.
you trudged around the corner of the table to line up your next shot, bending down and holding the cue stick with trembling fingers when you felt a wash of heat along the back of your thighs. you quickly stood only to feel a hand anchor itself between your shoulder blades, keeping you angled down. you had let out a little 'oof' at the abrupt repositioning.
looking over your shoulder, you're met with the handsomest woman you'd ever seen. short blond hair streaked liberally with gray and a furrow carved into the space between her eyebrows. she was big, towering over you as she looked down at you with dark eyes. she met your gaze with a grunt.
"y're playing like shit."
and you were, but it was still rude of her to call it out like that.
you opened your mouth to respond but stopped dead when she hinged at the waist, pressing up against you with her big body, the heat transfer alone sending your brains spinning into mush, it had been so long since you had been touched.
her warm hands steady yours, you could hear her breathing just over your shoulder. you couldn't help but grind back, just a bit, just enough to call it an accident if it all went south.
what you were expecting was for her hips to shoot forward, pinning your firmly in place between her and the edge of the table. the hard side found all your soft spots to jab into, the hint of pain knocking your breath right out of your chest.
you swallowed dryly and let her maneuver you however she liked, short panting breaths practically tripping over one another as you fought to get any air into your lungs. you were fine. you were totally cool. you were playing this off perfectly.
she hummed lowly in her throat as she helped you make a shot, the black ball sinking into a pocket in the corner.
"did i just win?" you asked.
"nope, just lost, lets go."
she waited (somewhat) patiently as you gathered your things, meeting your eyes steadily just before the door, a final check in that you were okay with this, that this was leading somewhere you wanted to go.
you couldn't help but smile back at her, pleased at this softness peeking through to hint at a rounded individual. you'd made the right choice to shake your ass in her direction.
Fem!Snowbaz AU where Simon's a baby butch and she finds community w/older butches, one of them being Ebb, who's dating Fiona, and they introduce Simon to Baz. And then of course they date.
part of @fairyboygenius’ sapphic week prompts! was very excited to take part in this :3
chosen prompt: june 20th u-haul & butchify a cod character
it felt like the world was against you moving in with si.
you could only take so many coincidences before you started seeing a pattern and that morning, there had been enough to count on both hands.
the truck had been a nightmare to organise in the first place when the company fucked up your booking date last minute and refused to give you a truck in the morning until si threatened to come down there and give them a piece of her mind.
after heavily censoring a message from si to the desk clerk, you were able to get a truck, just a good hour and a half later than planned. it was also clearly an older model, not that you or si would care, but you sniffed at how much it’d be costing you.
you’d then trapped your hand under the heavy sofa when you’d tried to help si lift it onto the u-haul truck, yelping in pain until she was able to ease it off again and you could slip it close to your chest protectively with a wince. she’d checked it over and wrapped it as soon as you were back upstairs in your flat with the first aid kit, but the ache stayed for the rest of the day.
after hoping that would be the end of your bad luck, si had tried carrying your record player you’d found at a garage sale along with two heavy boxes down the stairs to save time after your injury had you flagging. and despite your several warnings to go careful and offerings to still help, she promised she was capable so you left her be. those promises turned stale in her mouth when she tripped on the last step of the stairs and your record player went flying out of the wedged-open front door, smashing on the pavement.
you’d found her a few minutes later knelt and picking up the pieces with wide, worried eyes and you could only sigh, forcefully slow, through your nose.
when you finally had everything packed up and the keys returned to your now ex-landlord, you both got into the car with giddy smiles only to find that the a/c wasn’t working anymore.
you flicked at the buttons and temperature gauge until si shooed your hands away to do the same. you could’ve sworn it had worked on the drive over from the depot.
with no other option, the pair of you shrugged and set off with the windows wound all the way down instead.
no a/c wouldn’t be an issue on your average british day, even in the summer, but there had been an unexpected heatwave over the last week - fuck you climate change - and the pair of you were sweating buckets only ten minutes into the journey.
yeah, it really felt like everything was against you and the move.
not five minutes later, si pulled over into a sainsbury’s car park and hauled herself out with a huff, leaving you sat in the greenhouse of a front cab without a word. you frowned and waited her out, messing around with the music on your phone until you found a summer playlist from seven or so years back. there were a few old favourites you’d forgotten about and you tapped your foot along to them.
suddenly something cold landed on your legs and you sucked in a sharp breath as you picked it up reflexively.
a calippo…
your favourite ice lolly and just what you needed right then.
you grinned across at si and leant in for a chaste kiss, tasting the sweat from her upper lip despite the caution.
“thank you.”
she shrugged and stuck her unwrapped twister in her mouth before turning the engine back on and setting off back on the road.
you cut your eyes across to your girlfriend when you heard her humming along to a song and bit your lip to keep your smile from becoming too obvious. you knew this game.
if you waited her out without paying too much attention, she’d be singing at the top of her lungs in no time, but if you made a fuss too soon then she’d recede into her shell.
you started to sing along lightly, skipping a few lines here and there when you didn’t know them and to make sure si was getting louder alongside you.
you grinned and reached over to squeeze her thigh when your patience paid off and she started to sing off key with confidence, her voice harmonising in a cackle with yours as she drove along, your voices drowning out the music even as you sang the wrong lyrics.
the pair of you laughed when the song came to an end and at the first sign of a red light, she was leaning over to taste your orange ice lolly on your tongue.
the drive went a lot quicker after that. and unpacking went a lot smoother once you got to your new house, even with you insisting you could still help with your injured hand.
si made sure to stop what she was doing and kiss your knuckles gently every time she saw your face twist in pain when you put down another box in the living room.
you cooed and pouted until she’d lean in and kiss your lips too, snuggling into her chest when she went to kiss your crown as a third and final signature of love as you worked to put together your new home.
you watched her longingly in the evening when she tried to find the plates and cutlery in the incorrectly labelled boxes after you ordered takeaway for dinner. you knew then and there that you’d be spending the rest of your life with her if you had any say, no matter how many obstacles tried to get in your way.
“think we’ll have to use our ‘ands,” she hummed, defeated. her hands were on his hips as she looked over the boxes she was sure she’d packed them away in yesterday. a stray thought came to mind that if those had gone missing then god knows where her oestrogel was packed away among all of this; she’d need to find that again by morning.
you squeezed her around her waist tightly and smiled goofily into her sweaty shoulder.
at the press of teeth she peeked over her shoulder at you. “y’better not bite me.”
“no promises,” you whispered cheekily, but you only kissed her shoulder sweetly and sighed. “i love you so much.”
simon: he doesn’t take it himself, is mid-way through his routine when one of the lads takes it and sends it to him with the suggestion of forwarding it on to you.
he does so with an unrelated text, “be home in half hour. leg day tomorrow :(” and he doesn’t think anything of it until you send back a stream of 👀 & 💦 emojis and ask him to keep you fully updated with before and after pics of tomorrow’s leg progress. all angles, you specify.
price: you message her first, a curious “wuu2?” in hopes of curing your boredom, and boy does she fix it. she doesn’t mean for it to be a thirst trap but the casual show of height and strength in her relaxed posture has your interest piquing immediately and you’re bugging her for the next hour for more snippets into her gym routine until she finally catches on and sends you a steamy photo in the gym showers with a promise to come occupy your time in person.
gaz: she’d message you at stupid o’clock, something baity like “just finished my usual yoga routine, but it’s not hitting like it used to 😪 we should try couples yoga, don’t you think? you said you’ve been feeling tight recently, i can help with that.”
and i mean the flash of bicep and tease of bush was enough to turn you to putty but the idea of getting a little stretching done under her hands was certainly something you’d never say no to either.
johnny: johnny’s surprisingly clothed in hers; as long as she can flash the nipple piercings and the size of her hands, she’s golden. flexing and keeping her trackies low slung to flash a tan line is just the cherry on top, a little extra to reel you in.
it’s probably the only time she's subtle; as soon as you reply anything vaguely complimentary or suggestive she's sending absolute filth right back - whether it’s in voice notes, scrambled texts, pics of her hand down her pants or pulling at the collar of her sports bra to flash her tits. she just needed the suggestion of permission before getting started.
alternatives:
johnny/gaz: i think they’d like a bit of competition between themselves, would send it to you with a cheeky lilt to the message, “who’s been working harder, babe?” or maybe “who looks better?” if they’ve riled each other up too much and need a third opinion to decide who’s made the most progress since they’re lifting pretty much the same weight and their stamina is just about level.
when you reply a flirty, “think we’ll have to run some tests at home” they don’t waste time finishing their sets before leaving.
simon: he rarely sends a posed selfie but when you request it (and maybe send an example photo of yourself first) he’ll oblige with his face covered.
finds it funny when you promptly send it back with red circles dotted all over and an almost blunt text, “this is where i’m going to bite you when you get home”, only there isn’t really any patch of skin you haven’t circled twice over.
price: she’s another one, like simon, that’s likely to have the lads take a candid photo and suggest she sends it to her missus. price would be in the locker room, half changed and laughing at something soap was saying when she catches gaz out of the corner of her eye.
it’s takes all three of them badgering her to send it unlike simon who did it without needing much convincing. but she’s glad to have given in when you send your own gym selfie back - tight workout shorts practically eaten up by the curves of your arse and thick thighs. one hand is pulling up your baggy shirt so she gets an unhindered view and she can see your cheeky smile in the reflection of the mirror.
