Synopsis: Ghost is in charge of squad 141, which makes him the shiny new owner of the multi-billion dollar weapon, Clairis Program, designed to predict the future. However, he has trouble seeing the weapon beneath the woman. Instead of using her, he finds himself protecting her. (Leon Kennedy will be making a guest appearance later just because I can)
Words: 2k
Simon’s wide frame fills the chair he leans back in. He has just come from physical training, and although his guests are dressed in their fancy Sunday bests, he is covered in dirt, sweat, and his infamous balaclava. His eyes are dead as he surveys the interlopers before him.
One is a middle-aged yes-man that had come around a few times before on orders above both of their heads, and the other was a young woman who had a disturbingly vacant look in her eye and a shiny, polished, metallic collar around her neck. It almost seemed like a gaudy accessory, but Simon knew better.
“You see, we really need your mission to be successful,” the yuppie comments vaguely, stressing the importance of what wasn’t said.
“And the girl ‘ere is to make sure of that?” Simon asks, but there is no curiosity in his tone.
He stares at the fragile wisp of a woman before him, almost pretty if her features weren’t so marred by neglect, and she stared right back. There was something in her eyes - not defiance, not boldness, but almost a childlike presence. As if there is something in front of her and she doesn’t have the acquired good sense in looking away yet.
“Shes not ‘a girl’,” Yuppie tells Simon, “she is a multi-billion dollar precog weapon manufactured and leased to you to ensure that this mission is a success. You tell her what you want to know, you take her collar off, and she finds out for you. Think of it like the butterfly effect - she can test every variability of next moves until she finds the best one.”
Simon’s eyes wander to the woman’s collar.
“What about the collar?” he asks.
“Knowing about that is frankly above your pay grade, Mr. Riley.”
Simon’s hazel eyes snap back to Yuppie. “Leutenant,” he corrects without an ounce of courtesy. He believes it's best to keep these types in check.
Yuppie hesitates, accurately sensing the danger in a false step. There must be a reason he was sent to do all the diplomatic work for multinational higher ups, and this was probably it - the ability to sense and step around danger.
“And this is the headgear that accompanies the tool,” Yuppie instructs, pointing to the open briefcase previously placed on Simon’s desk.
Simon’s hooded eyes slip across the room to survey ‘the tool’. She is simply still staring at him, her expression pleasant, her demeanor docile.
“If you place her headgear on while she’s working, and wear your accompanying headgear, you can see what she sees. I warn you ahead of time, it is disorienting and jarring, and most people can’t stand it for more than a few minutes. That explains why she is…” Yuppie looks at the woman, “like this.”
She doesn’t bother getting offended, and offers a gentle smile when both men look at her.
“But if you ever doubt her reliability or believe she means to deceive you, you can always verify what she is seeing. Like this,” Yuppie says and reaches for the equipment.
Before his hand can make contact, Simon pushes the gaping briefcase closed. The snap echoes through the makeshift office and makes Yuppie jump.
“I signed your contract. I have officially seized control. You have no rights to her anymore,” Simon says.
Yuppie starts. Closes his mouth. His eyes nervously flicker back and forth between Simon, who has shifted his gaze back to the woman, and the woman, who is staring pleasantly back at him.
Yuppie lets out a long breath. “You’ll figure it out,” he concedes before backing out of the room, hurrying to his jet to get out of the sand-ridden makeshift barrack in enemy territory.
When it’s just the two of them, she lazily turns her gaze back to Simon. A silly, slow grin spreads across her face.
“I hate that guy,” she tells him.
He blinks long eyelashes at her and lets out a long, tapered sigh. He can’t remember when he signed up to be a babysitter.
“You and me, both,” he grunts out.
She remains standing almost disturbingly straight. She makes no motion to move other than the curious tilt to her head. She searches him, looking actively confused.
“I wonder, Mr. Ghost, are we friends yet?” she wonders aloud, her voice all high notes and gentleness.
“I don’t have friends.” He said it as if that meant he couldn't have friends. Or maybe, just wouldn't.
“We will be,” she assures him. Her voice is the soft twinkling of blowing wind-chimes, but it does not waver in its certainty.
He instantly knows she’s seen something about it in the possibilities of the future.
“You work for me,” he corrects her.
“I don’t work for you, Mr. Ghost,” she says with delirium dancing in her eyes. He wonders where she heard his nickname before. If it was government officials talking about him, or something shared between them in a future he’s never seen. “You own me. Think of me as a tool for you to use.”
Simon Ghost Riley is no stranger to using people. To doing cruel, merciless things to people. To being the one who has to do the dark things that would make other men pray to God for forgiveness. But the thought of using her seems criminal. She seemed so close to death already, barely anything more than one failing brain cell and a bag of bruises.
But, like it was her job to work for him, he had to work for others. And they demanded things.
“Find something for me,” he commands quietly across the room.
Finally she moves. She sits criss-cross-applesauce on the sand floor.
“What do you want me to find?”
Simon takes her in with a pang. Her eyes are practically vacant - dark in color, but it's the haunting purple bruises of neglect and sleeplessness below them that are her most striking feature. They pop out at you even more than the wasteland that is her jagged bones and pale skin.
Simon lives in a bloodthirsty world. He, himself, is brutish. But he recognizes that she doesn’t belong there, and he physically feels the injustice that must have been pushed on this woman to force her into this lifestyle. She reminds him of all of the wives and sisters and mothers that face the cutthroat consequences of his lifestyle. It is almost painful to look into her eyes and face what he’s done, but he does so unflinchingly.
“Tell me how we win this mission,”
“Take my collar off and I’ll find your answer for you.”
They sound like words whispered by a demon - just pay this one small price and whatever you want is yours. But somehow, although he doesn’t trust her, he knows she’s not lying.
He takes the intricate key that had been placed on a string around his neck, pulls it over his head, and unlocks the necklace. It falls in a noisy heap in her lap. She cranes her neck to both sides, scratches an itch that had been trapped beneath the metal, and nods at the briefcase.
“Don’t you want to watch?” she asks.
He hesitates, drinking her in again. He sits on the edge of his desk and she sits on the floor beneath him. If someone were to walk in at that moment, it might look like a staring contest to them.
“No,” he says and then walks around the desk back to his paperwork. After sitting, and without looking up, he says, “let me know when you’ve got my answer.”
And then she closed her eyes. She sat still in that position for so long, the sun set. And even then, she continued to sit still for hours after the moon shined brightly in the sky, throwing lances of shimmering moonlight through the billowing curtain walls of the temporary office.
Simon had taken ample opportunity to watch her as she worked. To him, it looked like she was meditating, but her eyes flickered violently behind closed lids. When he tired of watching that, he observed the gentle slope of her nose, the outlines of potentially plump limps that have deflated with dehydration, and the contours of her shoulders that looked like a skeletal diagram.
He took turns focusing on his paperwork and then studying her, all the while the mystery of why he was so transfixed with her was lying mostly dormant in the back of his head. He was, after all, the master of pushing things down, and will undoubtedly do that with this, as well.
With his paperwork finished, he leans back in his chair with a huff and goes to scratch the back of his neck, but his motion is paused halfway through completion. He discovers, upon laying eyes upon the woman again, that her face and lap are covered in blood. It pours from her nose like two faucets had been turned on full blast.
His body is 220 pounds of corded muscle, and he uses its full potential to cross the room, gather her up, and carry her to the medical tent. He stands guard while medics treat her, his hooded eyes watching like a sentinel as they thread wires around her body and stare at beeping screens. And then, when the panic stops and the doctors tell them what they've found, he leaves only for one thing - to gather the collar from his office and clasp it back around her neck. With that accomplished, he has nothing left to do but sit by her side until her eyelids flutter open.
Even in semi-unconsciousness, her gaze slides lazily across the horizon of her lower lid until it settles upon him.
She isn’t lucid at first, but something like clarity begins to occupy her expression as she takes him until eventually a loopy grin decorates her face.
“Upset you broke your new toy on the first day?” she teases lightly, as if she doesn't have the force for anything more.
“You’re a person,” he commands, as if demanding that she acknowledge that. There was simply no room to argue. “I wouldn't let a member of my squad die.”
For the first time since meeting her, she seems reflective. Present.
“They talk about you differently. They call you heartless,” she tells him.
The government officials that trade her around like a baseball card, he doesn't doubt.
He grunts out a sound. He's indifferent to what they say about him.
“You're the one going to be ‘eartless. Doctors say pushing yourself like that’ll kill you.”
“Yes,” she confirms without hesitation. “One day.”
Simon’s jaw tics almost imperceptibly under his mask.
“Why’d you do it, then?”
She looked almost puzzled. “You asked me to.”
“I didn't know it’d kill you.”
“I’m now an active member of the military - it’s my job to die if you tell me to,” she breathlessly whispers. Her tone makes it sound like she's joking but she's dead serious.
Simon hesitates. Their staring match ensues as he wonders why he feels so protective over this decrepit woman, then deciding it doesn't matter.
When you feel that way about something, you protect it, whether it makes sense or not.
“Then here’s a new order for you - keep yourself out of danger.”
Her smile is cracked lips and unbridled joy. “If you say so.”
He leans back in his chair, feeling like he can finally relax.
“I think you mean to say ‘yes, sir’,” he corrects.
“Yes, Mr. Ghost,” she whispers as she tries to find a comfortable spot on the medical cot. She falls asleep almost instantly and Simon lets her.
Some sleep will do her right. Not to mention a couple of big meals and some sunlight. He doesn't know what she's been through, but it hasn't been kind to her.
And that thought made him determined to be different. He was going to make sure she knew kindness.
Heres an old unfinished fic i probably won't finish, lmao.. I don't remember where i was going with this tbh.... anyway enjoy
~ Cold touch ~
Simon petrikov x winter king
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
Simon let out a sigh and closed his eyes, trying to go to sleep. He was very tired from all the excitement he'd been experiencing the past few days. He thought about what had happened, Fionna and cake are real, someone wanted him dead, universe hopping, and being kidnapped. It was all too strange to be made up. Simon sighed again and tried to get comfortable. He was glad he had the chance to sleep in an actual bed.
A knock on the door pulled him out of thought. He sat up and grabbed his glasses.
"Um.. come in?"
He was confused. Why would someone knock on his door, especially at this time.
The door slowly opened, and he saw his icy counterpart. Winter was in a blue robe. He looked like he'd just gotten out of bed.
Simon tilted his head slightly and looked at Winter's expression. He didn't look as happy as he did earlier in the day, but he still had a smile on his face.
"Hello, Simon.. can I come in?"
He sounded more somber and tired than he normally did.
"Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"Right.. right.. sorry for bothering you.. sleep well"
His smile dropped as he spoke, and he started to close the door.
"Are you alright, Winter?"
"Yes, I'm quite alright, dear Simon, goodnight"
Winter said, closing the door slower.
"You.. You can come in if you want"
Winter smiled and walked in the room, closing the door behind him.
"How is my kingdom treating you, Simon?"
Winter asked as he walked towards the bed, his voice was softer than normal. He stopped when he was beside the bed. He thought about laying beside Simon, but he just stood there.
"Very well... it's nice here..."
Simon paused for a second, looking at Winter.
"Do you want to sit next to me?"
"If you insist.."
Winter said, his normal tone returning to his voice. He got on the bed and sat beside Simon. He looked down at his hands before speaking.
"I.. I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd talk to you.. if you weren't already sleeping, of course"
Winter said, and he sounded tired and a bit upset.
Simon turned to him more and smiled.
"I couldn't sleep either.... are you sure you're alright? You sound upset"
"Me, upset? No.. I get everything I want in my kingdom. Why would I be upset?"
Winter said like he was trying to convince himself instead of Simon.
"Do.. do you want to talk about it?"
Simon asked, putting a hand on Winter's sholder.
Winter let out a soft laugh. There was a moment of silence before he started to speak.
"I'm lonely, Simon.. you coming here made me realize how lonely I actually was.. I haven't seen another human in a long time"
Winter said, moving his arm around Simon. He moved his arm slowly, hoping Simon wouldn't notice.
"Simon, I miss the warmth of a lover the most.. but you understand that well, don't you?"
Simon sighed and nodded. He started to think of Betty.
"Yes.. I.. I understand.."
Winter let out a soft laugh and brushed his hair out of his face.
"I guess Simons are doomed to be lonely.."
Simon chuckled a bit and nodded. Winter looked over at Simon and moved closer to him.
"Mabye, we could help each other out.."
Simon's face turned bright red. He knew what he was suggesting.
"W-What?!"
Winter moved away from Simon and laughed nervously.
"Just kidding, Simon.. that.. that would be strange.."
"R-Right.."
Simon sounded nervous, and he adjusted his glasses. Winter let out a soft sigh and turned to the edge of the bed, leaning forward.
"I'll let you sleep.."
"Winter.. I thought you wanted to talk?"
Winter looked over at Simon. He looked concerned. Winter nodded and smiled softly at Simon.
"Yes.. but you look so tired. When was the last time you had a full night's rest?"
Winter said as he got up and turned to Simon.
"...not in a long time.."
Simon let out a tired sounding sigh.
"Would you like some hot chocolate and a book to help you sleep?"
"That.. that sounds nice. Thank you, Winter. "
Winter smiled sweetly at Simon and clapped his hands together. An ice servant came in with hot chocolate. They handed the cup to Simon and quickly went away.
"I have a library. Would you like to pick out a book?"
Simon nodded and got out of bed. He was still fully clothed, except he didn't have his jacket or vest on.
"Simon.. no wonder you can't sleep.. would you like some pajamas? Or perhaps a robe?"
"Um.. pajamas would be nice"
Winter nodded and put his hand around Simon's waist, guiding Simon to his room. He was much slower than he normally was. He didn't want Simon to spill the hot chocolate on himself. Winter went inside his room and let go of Simon. He went into his big closet, disappearing into it.
"Winter.. is this your room? It's bigger than mine.."
Simon mumbled his second sentence.
"Yes! This is my room.. go on, make yourself comfortable"
Winter said from inside his closet. Simon took a peek inside. There were a ton of fancy clothes, all shades of blue.
"Woah... you um.. sure have a lot of clothes"
"Yes, I have to be ready for any occasion! ...Now.. where did I put it.."
He mumbled the last bit and then let out a gasp as he found something. He quickly came out of his closet and handed Simon pajamas. They were actually his size, unlike most of Winter's clothes.
"I'm glad I didn't throw these out. Here, let me hold this while you change"
Winter took Simon's cup from his hand.
"Thank you..."
Simon smiled and looked around awkwardly, he was looking for a bathroom to change in. Winter pointed to a door, Simon nodded, going in quickly. Winter sat at the foot of his bed, crossing his legs. He put a hand to his cheek and looked into the cup of hot. chocolate.
"How adorable..."
He mumbled and let out a soft chuckle. He leaned back, putting his arm behind him. He let his robe slide off his shoulders and started to hum a tune as he waited. Simon walked out, with his clothes folded in his hands.
"Um.. where would you like me to put these?"
Winter quickly got up and took his clothes from him, handing back his cup. Simon saw Winter's chest and started to blush slightly.
"I'll take them back to your room.."
Winter clapped his hands together, a servant came in and Winter gave them the clothes. Winter looked back at Simon and noticed him staring.
"Simon.. my eyes are up here, am I really that distracting?"
He said with an innocent smile. Simon quickly looked up at Winter's face, he looked very embarrassed that he got caught looking.
"I'm sorry.. I um.. how'd you get so...?"
"Muscular? Simon, I changed myself.. I got tired of being so thin.."
Simon nodded and looked down at himself, he was so small compared to him.
"Simon.. being thin isn't a bad thing, some people find it attractive.."
Winter said, putting a hand on Simon's shoulder. Simon let out a soft chuckle.
"I suppose so.."
"Mhm.. you know.. even though I've changed myself so much.. I sometimes miss how I used to look"
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
This is the story of Wilhelm and Simon. They started out as boys who fell in love in secret and turn into men who show everyone that love really is the most important thing in the world.
Chapter 11 is up!
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
I’ve created a Benders’ playlist of songs mentioned in the story: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3rd78InHQ7oSVo4mM48yeB?si=s-ujziTpRNWDin6yKsBg-A&nd=1
A/N: Hey guys! It’s been a while since I’ve posted a fic, so I’m excited to post my entry for @simons-thirst-squad Simon’s Advent Calendar Day 18: Hot Chocolate. Also big thanks to @genevievedarcygranger for betaing this fic for me and being all around awesome and supportive <3
Word Count: 1283
Warnings: Sugar sweet fluff
A violent shudder passed through your body from the cold. You shifted the weight between your feet in quick succession, hoping that the movement would help warm you up. If anyone was watching you right now, they’d probably think you were dancing. At this point, you were so cold that you didn’t care if you were seen.
Late night fence duty was always rough, but even more so now that the cold weather was setting in. The only sounds during the night you could hear was the sound of the walkers and the chattering of your own teeth. Luckily you had gotten warm socks, boots, and a heavier jacket from commissary to try to solve this issue, but it was still downright freezing at night. What you wouldn’t give to have a pair of hand warmers to keep your fingers from trembling.
“Looking a bit frosty over there,” a voice called out behind you. You jerked your head around at the source, ready to give them hell for teasing you. After seeing it was only Simon walking up to you, you relaxed a bit.
There was something about Simon that could never make you upset at his teasing. Maybe it was because you know he never meant it in a mean spirited way like the other Saviors sometimes did. He seemed to have a sixth sense for knowing when people needed to be cheered up, and you were thankful for it. Of course there was a part of you that found him handsome, but his cheery disposition always won you over every time.
“So you decided to come out and freeze with me too? You’re really taking a bullet for me,” you said with a smile.
“What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment,” Simon said with a grin. “Besides, I come bearing gifts.” You hadn’t noticed what he was holding when he walked up to you, but when he lifted up two travel mugs you couldn’t help but let a wide grin spread over your face.
“Ohhhh coffee, for me?” you asked as you reached out for one of the mugs.
“Not coffee, hot chocolate. Hot chocolate is just better tasting this time of year. ‘Tis the season and all,” Simon said as he clinked his mug against yours.
You smiled and took a sip, relishing in the rich chocolate flavor on your tongue. Your hands were finally starting to warm up a little from holding the mug. The warmth began to flow over you now, in a way that only a hot beverage on a cold day could. It reminded you of the holidays before all of this, when you would curl up under the blankets on the sofa with a warm mug of whatever you wanted that day and glancing out at the falling snow between turning pages of the book you were reading that afternoon. You really missed it all.
Your gaze turned back to Simon as he let out a satisfied and dramatic “ahhhh” after taking a sip. There was a part of you that wished you could stand just a little bit closer to him. Something about the moment just set your heart aflutter. You were always interested in him, and this moment seemed almost too romantic to pass up. But what would you even say? What if he was just being friendly and didn’t want to pursue anything?
“The only thing that would make this better is if we could use milk instead of water,” Simon mused as he took another sip.
Torn away from your thoughts, you tilted your head down and took another sip. “Oh definitely, it’s a lot creamier that way. I miss a lot of food,” you lamented.
“What kind?”
“Pretty sure the universal answer is pizza,” you said, Simon softly chuckling beside you. “Tacos too. And I doubt we can find any oranges or pineapples around here.”
It took you a moment to notice as you were rambling on that you and Simon had somehow moved closer together as the conversation went on. Your shoulder brushed against his arm slightly, and you felt self conscious of his presence all over again. He was probably being friendly to you and he didn’t have any deeper feelings. Even as you told yourself this, you couldn’t move away from him. Even in the cold you could feel the warmth radiating from his body and personality.
You couldn’t help the shiver that went through you again, as you were just standing still and talking instead of moving around. Without meaning to, you bumped Simon’s arm with yours as you shuddered.
Before you could apologize to him, Simon suddenly cupped your cheek with his free hand, his palm practically covering your face. Your breath froze in your throat, unsure of how to respond. If anything, your cheeks began to heat up at the contact.
“Shit honey, you’re practically freezing,” Simon said. His thumb brushed along your skin gently before his expression changed to an apologetic one. He took his hand away and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, that’s probably too much, isn’t it? You probably think it’s kind of weird and out of nowhere,” he added with a laugh.
You smiled shyly and chuckled. “Simon, I don’t find it weird at all. I, uh, actually liked it,” you said. Something about his confident action in the moment made you want to try to go for it. Let him know you were open to whatever he felt for you.
He hesitated briefly, staring into your face as if trying to read you. It was this moment that you really got a chance to stare into his eyes, his warm brown eyes, as dark as the hot chocolate the two of you were drinking. There was a part of you that found it funny that the heat of the cup in your hand couldn’t match the feeling that Simon’s gaze made you experience right now.
The hand that Simon held his hot chocolate in wrapped around you slowly, as if giving you the chance to change your mind. You smiled and leaned into his chest to urge him further. It was almost cute seeing Simon acting a little shy himself. Taking your cue, his free hand cupped your chin again, spreading warm tingling sensations across your cheek.
Simon dipped down, grazing his lips against yours softly before pressing on. You found your free hand reaching up to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. His lips still tasted of hot chocolate, and you wanted to savor it all. His kisses were firm, confident, and yet sweet and tender all at once. Not only that, but his mustache was rather soft, tickling you gently as if trying to get your attention too.
The two of you parted for a brief moment to catch your breath, which had turned into visible puffs in the air. Unsure of where to go from here, the two of you simply watched each other’s expressions, trying to gage your next moves.
Simon suddenly grinned, making you smile in response. “Wow!” he said, making you burst into giggles. He pretended to pout for a moment before saying, “I’m serious! You’re incredible.”
“You’re such a goof,” you said, blushing a little. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Really now?” Simon said, his eyebrow quirking up. “If that’s the case, then maybe after your shift we could warm up with some more hot chocolate. If that’s alright with you.”
“I couldn’t think of a better person to warm up with than you, Simon,” you said before standing on your tiptoes just to capture his lips again.
One more kiss could never hurt.
Thank you all for reading, and if you want on or off of my taglist let me know! <3
Can you write a fic where Ghost x reader are having a disagreement over something and how they navigate through it, how each one be mad in their own way, and how they solve the problem or how Ghost comforts reader or something like that. The plot is up to you. Thank youuu :3
ANOTHERRRRR FANFIC FRIDAYYYY!!😎
but… BETTTT (ngl I’ve been meaning to do something like this) 😭
A/N: Sorry that’s kinda basic & it took me a while. It kinda took me a while to figure out what the disagreement is and how they navigate through it. But I hope you like it!! 🍂
The argument as you so called it; started when Simon was the way home.
Simon just got off duty at the base. He hopped in his truck,switched it on, and started his drive home. No Radio. Just Silence. That’s the way he liked it after a day with recruits who didn’t listen.
That’s when you called and his whole demeanor changed. His phone rung, and he answered fast as daylight.
“Simon.” you said with an attitude through the phone. “We need to talk when you get home.”
He opened up his mouth to speak, but the line went dead. He couldn’t do anything but smirk. Being married to you for 2 years has taught him a lot about you and mostly your attitude.
Simon pulled into the driveway, waiting for you to come outside like you usually did to greet him. He realized you were serious when you didn’t come out.
He got out of the truck and headed inside the house.
“Lovie, I’m home.” He says taking his shoes off and putting them on the rack.
“Where are you?? You said you wanted to talk?” He says to an empty living room.
He walks upstairs to the bedroom, and sees you at your vanity braiding your hair slowly.
“Hey.” you say as you look at him in the mirror of your vanity.
“What’s wrong? You said you wanted to talk?” He says in a confused tone.
You don’t say anything. Just pure silence. Mad silence.
He grabs your waist and turns you around facing him.
“I’m mad at you right now.” you say rolling your eyes.
“I know, baby. But why??” he says gently. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what I did wrong.”
Some more silence. She tries to say this without crying.
“You never treat me how you used to. I feel like all that’s on your work. I feel—I feel like I’m not enough for you.”
You start to cry. Tears roll down your face. You don’t even look at him you keep looking down at the base of the vanity.
He looks down at you,grabs your hands, and gets on his knee. He tilts your body towards him. Your sobbing now, tears starting staining the shoulder of his shirt.
“Love, I’m so sorry.” He says pulling you back from his shirt. “I never knew you felt that way.”
You’re not saying anything just nodding slowly and wiping your face with the sleeve of your pajama shirt.
“I’ll make it up to you. What about your favorite dinner,hm??” He asks trying to cheer you up.
You sniffle and laugh, “Yeah, I’d love that it’ll just like we used too.”
“Just like we used to.” Simon says with a smile.
You pout and crosses your arms, “With flowers?” you ask in a childish tone.
“I’ll get you every flower there is in this world love.” Simon replies.
A/N (again): I really hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this😭 I think you could tell what my fav part was but yeah💀
