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sapphicmsmarvel · 4 years

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EP: Siren Queen

masterlist

Premise: Y/N L/N is a part of the world's biggest girl group. A stalker starts harassing her and her band mates so their label calls in the BAU.

The case was weird for the BAU. It was a stalker case for a famous girl, Y/N L/N, she was part of the worlds most successful girl group. Garcia was all too excited to be involved in the case. Of course, she hated that you were being stalked but she was a huge fan.

“You better tell me everything!” She squealed, “If she’s nice, if she’s as hot as she is on camera, if the other girls are nice, if they are ‘just like us’ please!”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were the stalker, Garcia.” JJ joked.

“If someone hurts that ray of sunshine I will stalk them!” She shouted through the video call and then hung up.

JJ flipped through the file, “we have five days to catch this guy before they go on tour. And the girls are refusing to cancel.” “Even if their lives are at stake?”

“They said that they will not cancel because it’s the opening to their world tour and they won’t risk disappointing fans because they know people are flying in from all over the country.” Prentiss explained.

“Shouldn’t the label put the girls first?” Morgan asked.

“Usually labels tend not to care about artists.” Reid said, “the amount of label abuse that’s been coming to light is horrific you guys should read up on it.”

He looked up as everyone looked at him confused, he explained, “Simon Cowell for example, there are claims against him because of abuse towards clients. Overworking them, homophobic comments, racist comments, sexist comments you name it.”

“What groups?” JJ asked.

“Little Mix and One Direction are the two most prominent ones.” Reid said flicking through the file.

“How do you know all this?” “Garcia.” He answered. “Then I did my own research because I was fascinated by the music industry. It never hurts to learn even if I don’t know anything about it.”

The team left it at that, and continued digging through the evidence of your stalker.

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The team was currently sitting in one of the rehearsal rooms. There were couches, a snack bar, a coffee stand, everything except the girls they were meeting.

Their publicist Ramona looked at them all apologetically, “I’m so sorry, the girls seem to be in traffic. They’re with trusted drivers and security guards.”

“Have they been background checked?” Hotch asked.

Ramona nodded, “we all were when we were taken on, we were when this stalker showed up as well. The dancers, the crew, everybody those girls come into contact with are background checked.”

“Even interviewers?” Reid asked. Ramona nodded, “without their knowledge, just like you advised. If this got leaked…” Ramona shook her head, “we all know what happens to victims of stalkers, it isn’t foreign in this business.”

At that moment the girls all came in, Emily recognized them from the files. Apparently, even your bandmates got checked. Zoey came in first, snuggled in her hoodie, her jeans were rumpled and her heels were clacking. Her smile falling off her face the second she walked into the room. Her blonde hair was tousled as if she was running her hands through it a lot. Her green eyes were tired.

Leaning on her was Brooke, who was also looking exhausted. Ramona told them that they had been up since 4 am doing press, it was now 4pm. They had a two hour rehearsal next, then dinner, then vocal rehearsal, then they could go to their hotel. Apparently it was an easy day for them. Brooke's black hair was in it’s natural curls, she wore heels as well as a dress.

The two were holding hands.

Then came in Liz, she was wearing a black long sleeve shirt, shorts and a beanie as well as heeled boots. She didn’t look as tired, she looked fiercely protective as she was holding your hand.

You looked anxious, you were also in a hoodie, jeans and heeled boots, all black. Your eyes were darting around the room as you took in everyone around you. Your eyes startled when they landed on Emily, Emily wasn’t sure why.

Ramona introduced all of them to the girls then said “Sit down girls.”

Three of them did, you had other ideas and went and got coffee. “Y/N, that’s your fourth cup.”

You held up a finger, “I don’t want to hear it, Ramona. I have a stalker out there and I have to act like everythings normal, if Marcus has a problem with it, he can suck my dick.”

Morgan looked at Emily with wide eyes. Emily shrugged. Then looked at Reid, “who’s Marcus?” She asked him.

“Their choreographer.” “Why does it matter what he says?”

“Because he cares about us and is a fitness nut.” You answered, “you’re not very good at whispering.” You deadpanned, sipping your coffee.

“Y/N!” Ramona scolded.

You rolled your eyes, and Zoey spoke up, “give her a break Ramona. She never gives you issues, let her live.”

“It’s okay,” Emily spoke up, “I understand what it’s like to be afraid of looking over your shoulder.”

You nodded, avoiding eye contact. You felt guilty for snapping, that much she could tell.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Hotch said, “do you have any particular fans you’d like to tell us about, people have stood out?”

“We have a lot of...dedicated fans.” Zoey said, to put it gently. “Some good, some bad, some that are really intense.”

You scoffed from where you were standing, “that's putting it lightly.” You grabbed a mini chocolate chip cookie..

“Do girl groups have groupies?” Morgan asked.

“Of course we do,” Liz said, her tan cheeks gaining a rosy color. You sat in between her and Zoey, Brooke was next to Zoey. You had three other cookies in your hand and handed them to the others.

“We recognize the line between fans and stalkers as well as people who don't agree with who we are. But there’s been nothing like this.” Brooke shuddered.

“Don’t agree with who you are?” JJ asked.

You held up a hand, “queer.”

Brooke raised her hand, “black.”

Liz raised hers, “philipino and black. So mixed race.”

Then Zoey raised hers as well, “I’m ‘too skinny’ so everyone thinks I have an eating disorder.”

You piped up, “I’ve also been fat shamed by the worlds biggest media outlets, it’s nothing new to find hate online.”

Emily grimaced and she knew her team was doing the exact same thing.

“Do you have any ideas as to who it could be?” Rossi asked.

“There’s one,” Zoey said, “but Y/N insists it can’t be him.”

“You need to tell us.” Emily said, everyone looked at you.

You sighed, “he went to jail when we were teens for sexual misconduct. I was the first person he assaulted and harassed consistently. But I didn’t press charges.” “Why not?” Morgan asked.

“Because I was a fourteen year old girl who didn’t recognize that it was sexual assault.” You snapped, then sighed, “I’m sorry Agent Morgan. It’s touchy.” Zoey took your hand, Liz took your other one, Brooke reached over and put her hand on top of Zoeys. “To be honest, I don’t know where I would be without these three.” You admitted. Emily admired it, the sisterhood between you four.

“How long have you guys been friends?” JJ asked.

“We met in high school, then formed the band.” Brooke answered.

“Do you know if he’s out?”

You sighed, “he is. But he lacks the brain cells to pull this stuff off.”

“It’s not that hard to mail letters.” JJ said.

“Yeah but, he shouldn’t know the exact times we show up at venues, interviews, he isn’t smart enough to think of how to obtain that information. As kids he was not smart, at all.” You said, letting go of your friends’ hands and you started rubbing your hands on your jeans.

Emily noticed how all of them kept their hands on you, as a way of comfort.

“Unless he was following the bus,” Zoey said.

“He’s too lazy.” You said, “never had energy for thorough shit.”

“What’s his name? We’re gonna send it to our technical analyst.” Morgan said.

You nodded and spoke the name you’ve feared for far too long. “Peter Brady, he was born in my home state

“Okay,” Hotch started, “I want all of you to be shadowing the girls, they are not to be left alone, we don’t know how organized this guy is and what he knows.” He looked at Rossi, “we’ll contact Garcia and run through possible people. Do you have anywhere to set up?”

Ramona began directing them to rooms, then told all of you to get changed and do rehearsals for the tour.

JJ and Reid sat in during the rehearsals, meanwhile Emily and Morgan helped Hotch and Rossi with going through all the names that Garcia flagged as potentially dangerous.

Two hours later, Emily was eating dinner, she was planning to eat alone, but then she found you. You were sitting on the floor backstage, by a bunch of wires and such eating your pizza. You were alone.

“Hey,” Emily said.

“Hi, did Ramona send you because I’m alone?” You asked, smiling slightly.

“No,” Emily said sitting next to you, “I can recognize when someone needs someone to talk to. Where are your friends?”

“They’re talking to their partners, I insisted they do. They haven’t been the past couple of nights because of all this. Part of being….’famous’ is that you have to leave your loved ones for long periods of time.” “My field is the same way. I don’t see my mom more than twice a year.”

You shuddered, “I can barely handle not seeing my mom as much as I used to before ‘fame’. I can’t imagine it in your shoes.” You sighed.

Emily popped open her salad box, “do you mind if I eat with you?” She smiled.

And she smiled wider when you smiled back, “feel free. By the way, I’m sorry about snapping at you. It’s been rough.”

“I know how you feel.” Emily would tell you about Doyle if it helped you open up more about this guy.

“Have you been stalked?”

Emily nodded, “by an abusive ex.” Was all she said.

You grimaced, “so we’ve gone through similar things.” “Was this guy an ex?” You shook your head, “we were thirteen and fourteen, as kids navigating those feelings can be hard. I’d say we were close to dating then he...he pushed too far. I wasn’t raped, but he touched me inappropriately, then harassed me over text. Then continued for three years, he’s been silent ever since and now all of a sudden 12 years later he’s back.” You laughed bitterly, “and I have no doubts he’s done things to other women. Do you think because I didn’t report, it’s my fault that this is happening? And he’s most likely doing this to other women?” You asked her.

Emily shook her head, “It’s not your fault Y/N, it never will be. He’s a sick creep, and we’re gonna get him.” She assured you. “Can we talk about something else?” You asked.

“Sure.” Emily smiled.

You felt your heart stutter.

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Over the next few days, you and Emily had fallen into a routine.

You ate all your meals together. Breakfast at 6am in the hotel lobby, lunch in the dance rehearsal room, dinner in the backstage area.

Of course, your friends teased you relentlessly. And her team teased her relentlessly.

But you two didn’t care, you found solitude in each other's company, considering both of your worlds were hectic and crazy.

You two were eating chicken tenders for lunch before vocal and dance rehearsal in the dance room when Marcus walked in, “hey, some fanmail was left for you.” He handed you a blue box.

“I’m surprised you can bring it to me.” You said grabbing it.

“It went through security first.”

That was a good sign, you opened it and saw a diamond necklace, “holy shit.” You murmured, it was stunning and sparkly.

Emily thought it described you personally.

You took it out of the box and set the box on the ground. Emily saw a tag in the box. She grabbed it. She pulled it and it revealed a bigger note. She picked it up and read it.

“Y/N….” Emily started.

“What?” You asked, scared.

Emily cleared her throat, “for you my love, it matches your smile. Remember that night under the stars at that restaurant our parents took us to as kids? It’s one of my fondest memories.” You dropped the necklace as if it had burned you.

It had.

It clattered against the floor, you shot off the ground. “Get it away from me! Get the box away from me! Get it all away!” You started crying. “No, no, no, no.”

“Go get my team, now!” She ordered Marcus who ran off with his concern and protectiveness in his eyes.

She approached you, “can I touch you?” She asked.

You fell into her arms, “he found me. He actually fucking found a way to torment me. After all these years, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. Please don’t let him get me.” You sobbed into her arms.

She looked at the diamonds on the ground, the sparkling contrasted against the dull gray floor, she stroked your hair as she said, “I won’t, he will never touch you again.”

And she would die to ensure that that promise was kept.

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Two hours later, you were in vocal rehearsals. You had to do questioning as well as calm down from your panic attack.

You would only allow Emily near you.

You two walked side by side to vocal rehearsals, the girls immediately rushed to hug you. Emily stepped back as the three of them hugged you. It was a huge group hug.

“Oh sweetheart.” Brooke said and kissed your head. “Baby, we tried to get in there but they wouldn’t let us.” Zoey said, “I almost kicked that damn door down but Ramona pulled me away.”

“We got you, that bastard isn’t going anywhere near you,” Liz declared.

Emily heard a sniffle from you, and the girls all “aww’d.”

“Babyyy.” Liz cooed as they all held you tighter.

After about three minutes of you trying to calm down, you four separated, all of you were wiping your eyes. “God, we really do feed off each other huh?” You tried to lighten the mood. They all smiled, trying to keep the light mood going.

They all said hi to Emily, then headed towards a couch. You four then sat down and began singing.

Okay, she had heard your records, after all your band was one of the biggest bands in the world, the biggest girl group.

But God, she did not expect you to not have an auto-tuned voice. None of you do. All four of you have amazing voices but yours…

It was rich like dark chocolate, she wanted to hear you sing all. the. time. It was like a siren, captivating and lustful. You were calm while singing, nobody would know that your stalker had just dropped off a box with diamonds in it two hours ago.

Then to make you laugh Zoey broke out with an off key note and made you burst out laughing.

That laugh warmed Emily, she realized how much she loved your company and what she would do to make you laugh like that at her.

Oh God, she was falling for you. And she was falling hard.

Shit.

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Two hours before the show was supposed to go on, they caught him.

He was staking out before the show, Garcia had his picture sent to all the guards and they found him.

Everyone else went to question him, while Emily stayed with you. It was a few minutes before showtime, makeup artists and hair stylists were doing final touches. As well as the stylists.

“Twitters blowing up.” Ramona said from her chair.

“About?” You asked, jumping to shake the nerves.

“The guy who got arrested in front of the venue.”

You looked at Emily, “dear god.”

“JJ will handle it.” She assured you all.

“Good.” Zoey said.

You nodded to a corner at Emily, she nodded and followed you over. “I just wanna say, thank you for helping me and spending time with me. I know it’s your job but,” you sighed, “if you’d allow me, I’d like to take you out on a date when we have a show in DC. We’re staying for a couple days doing press and I’d like to go out on a date with you, if you’d like?” Emily smiled and blushed hard, “I would be honored, Y/N.”

The smile you had could light up the night sky, “thank you, Emily. You won’t regret it.”

“Ramona called, “Y/N! Show time!”

“One sec!” Then shoved a piece of paper into her hand, “I hope to hear from you.” Then you kissed her cheek and ran off to stage.

She opened the piece of paper, “to my hero, I hope to hear from you.” Then underneath was your number.

She sighed happily, then went to find her seat in the stadium so she could watch her siren queen perform.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #jj criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #Paget Brewster #paget brewster x reader #Jennifer Jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #david rossi #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

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Come play with me Part 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, cursing, allusion to non-con.

Words: 2060.

Summary: Having to deal with Bucky Barnes, a talented head engineer who you have to convince cooperating with your boss, you suddenly discover his psychopathic tendencies. Worse, he has taken an eerie interest in you.

Part 1

P.S. More references to “Death Machine” movie I saw when I was a kid 🙈

_______________

Nervously glancing around a messy room full of odd equipment, screwdrivers, nails, military clothing like combat pants, and scary drawings hanging on the walls, you sat on an empty chair Barnes had offered you. In fact, it was the only empty chair in the room.

“Yeah, I need to clean up, I know.” He muttered under his breath, grabbing a pile of papers on his seat and dropping them to the floor close to his table as he started typing something on his laptop. “Never have time for this.”

You nodded, pretending you cared. Actually, the only thing you wanted was getting away as far as you could from Barnes, a man who had completely turned your life upside down in a matter of hours.

First, as you tried fighting him, he had blocked all your cards and literally stripped you of all your money - you couldn’t understand how the bank security overlooked the transfer, but all you had left were ten dollars on your account. When you got hysterical, crying and pleading Bucky to get it all back, he carefully explained to you that all you needed to do was to listen to him. You were still furious, remembering how he talked to you as if you were a child.

Then Barnes told you he would have what he wanted anyway, but he didn’t need to break you in the process. It wasn’t fun, he said, albeit having you cry under him as he sat on top of you laying on your bed. When you finally submitted, knowing you couldn’t overpower him, that bull of a man, Bucky returned you your money, adding a few thousand dollars “for the trouble”. You had never felt so humiliated in your entire life.

You chose not to think of what had happened after that.

“Shit, they fucked it up again.” Bucky growled in frustration, rubbing his eyes as he stared into one of several monitors on his desk. “Baby, can you make me coffee while I’m dealing with this shit?”

What? Coffee? Did he bring you here for this?

Clenching your fists, you kept your mouth shut as you glanced over the room, quickly finding a dirty coffee maker in the corner. Trying to convince yourself it was better than giving him a blowjob while he was working, you moved from your seat and went to have a look at the little glass kettle. It definitely needed a good wash, so you disconnected it and headed to the door. While passing beside Bucky’s back, you were abruptly stopped by him tugging on your pencil skirt.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He growled, narrowing his eyes at you. There was something carnivorous in his gaze as he watched you freezing in place.

Showing him the coffee maker, you nervously said, “It’s dirty. I want to clean it before making coffee for you.”

He blinked for a few times and let go of your skirt. Lifting his eyes to your face, he softened, motioning to you, “Kitchen’s on your left. Thanks.” As he turned back to the monitor, making no attempt to stop you, you carefully moved forward, stopping yourself from running away.

When the door closed beside you, you finally exhaled as if you escaped the death room with a deranged psycho with an axe in it. Well, the deranged psycho was actually there, but without a weapon, you hoped. Not that you saw any.

Speeding up, you found a kitchen on your left just as Barnes said, relieved no one was there - for some reason, you were afraid of his co-workers since none of them had reported Bucky before... Come to think of it, maybe they did. But HYDRA wiped everything out because Barnes was irreplaceable, and until he murdered someone the company was probably okay with pretty much everything he was doing if he continued to work for them. Or were there any boundaries at all? If Barnes was a murderer, would the company cover him up just because he was the one making billions for them?

You threw away the used filter and placed the kettle into the sink. You needed to find a way to leave him, but as careful as possible. No one knew what Barnes was capable of.

The smell of coffee made Bucky finally snap back to reality as he inhaled the aroma, stretching his arms while you watched his muscles flexing. Despite him looking pretty good, you were more scared rather than aroused.

“Here.” You said, placing a cup of black coffee in front of him - no milk, no sugar just like he instructed you.

Barnes grinned at you, tucking a strand of his dark hair behind the ear, and the next moment you ended up on his lap as he gripped you by the waist, then taking his coffee like it was something completely natural. Stilling, you squirmed uncomfortably, unwilling to be so close to him. He was acting as if you were his girlfriend, and you were not okay with it, but preferred being silent rather than having an argument that could lead to Barnes becoming violent.

“Thank you, doll.” He whispered, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek, and you winced from a sudden feeling of his three-days beard brushing against your sensitive skin. Bucky proceeded to sip his coffee and stare into the monitor, a dozen of blueprints opened at the same time didn’t bother him, seemingly.

You had been tense for a couple of minutes before you realized Barnes was completely absorbed by his work, caressing you through your clothes with his hand from time to time, but doing little else. All he saw were numerous reports and blueprints. Sometimes Bucky was getting upset when a small window with a chat popped up above his programs, and he hurriedly typed a message to some of his colleagues, you supposed.

Since there was nothing much left to do, you tried to understand what Bucky was working on. In the end, it was going to be your job - he had already submitted all the forms to get you a position of a project manager. You didn’t know how HYDRA’s executives was gonna react, but something told you Barnes could convince them to do as he pleased. Even the thought of that was frightening to you.

The more you watched, the more you thought the new project didn’t remind you the weapon control system but the weapon itself. Of course, you weren’t an engineer, but you had a good knowledge of HYDRA’s already existing active protection systems. This wasn’t it even in the slightest. It was more of some weird cyborg thing, you thought as you kept looking at what appeared to be biomechatronic body parts.

Was he working on some side project now? Was it even HYDRA’s project?

As you leaned closer to the monitor, trying to understand what this was and why Barnes was working on it, your heard the man chuckling.

“Interested?” He asked, making you lean back into him with his hand pressed to your chest.

“I thought you were working on the new weapon control system. What’s this?”

“Oh, this is the best thing I’ve ever done, baby. It will bring HYDRA to the top of the world.” Grinning, he closed the blueprint he was working on and opened a different one, a colored 3D model of a heavily armed man wearing something that almost looked like a futuristic military suit. “This is the Supersoldier project, the top-secret thing Pierce wants me to be the lead of.”

Pierce. Alexander Pierce, the new CEO of the corporation who took this position after Fury’s dismissal. Did he give Barnes a secret project? Why on Earth did he want HYDRA to be involved into weapon production? It was beyond corporation’s reach. They simply didn’t have the permission, never cooperating with military for this purpose. What Barnes was doing was illegal.

“So, is this why you don’t submit the new reports?” You asked, trembling slightly on his lap and almost missing a kiss Bucky left on the back of your neck. It was better not to ask too many questions.

“You don’t understand.” He laughed, making you turn your face to him as he caressed it with his gloved hand. “There can be no reports because there is no new weapon control system. It had never been planned. Your boss won’t have any details, because there are none.”

You felt your head spinning. What? What? How could it be? The Board of Directors wanted that project. You were sure most of them knew nothing about the thing Barnes was working on now. It was simply unbelievable. The head engineer of HYDRA’s Corp was involved in an illegal project to create a cybernetically-enhanced soldier, and no one knew of it.

You were becoming involved in something very, very dangerous. People like Alexander Pierce and the ones he was doing this project for were much scarier than a psychopathic genius Bucky Barnes.

Fuck. You were in deep, deep trouble.

“Mr. Simons will get fired then, I see.” You mumbled, trying to find words and talk about something that wouldn’t involve the Supersoldier project. The more you knew, the shorter your life would be, you feared.

“Sorry about that, doll.” Barnes’ smirk was irritating at best. “But I really need you here with me. This project is quite stressful, and when I’m stressed, I don’t work well. Last time I’ve fucked up my arm completely.”

“Your arm?”

“Huh, you didn’t see?”

Oh, you didn’t like it. You didn’t like it when Barnes lifted his arm and took his leather glove off, revealing a metal hand instead of a flesh one. He then rolled the sleeve of his thick hoodie further, and you realized his whole arm was made out of metal.

Barnes was experimenting on himself. He was that first supersoldier Pierce wanted.

As you looked at him with an expression of utter horror written on your face, Barnes chuckled, making you lean closer to him and kissing you deeply, his tongue licking the insides of your mouth shamelessly while you froze, unable to accept the truth. When you touched his metal fingers, they radiated heat as if they were of flesh and blood. How was it possible? Why Barnes was doing this? Didn’t he understand why Pierce wanted him to work on this project and what he was going to do with it once Bucky finished?

No, Barnes knew. He was anything but stupid. Maybe he wanted HYDRA to have its own supersoldiers. Maybe Bucky wanted this power.

“I’m a war vet, baby. I’ve lost my arm around ten years ago.” He said as he touched your skin with his metal hand. “Dealing with those shitty prostheses was a nightmare, believe me. But look at this - it’s perfect. I can draw with it - and I can crack Pierce’s skull just as easily. Isn’t a miracle? You didn’t even realize what I had there until I showed you.”

“I don’t think people will call it miracle when Mr. Pierce makes his personal cyborgs army.” You said quietly and shivered from the thought. It was unbelievable, like a plot of a sci-fi movie or something, yet you were staring at Barnes’ metal arm now. If anyone could make this horror a reality, it was him. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you understand what’s going to happen?”

“What? Like a war or something?” He asked with irritation, watching you frown. “Since I’ve returned home, there was not a year without a war somewhere on Earth. This peace pacifists are talking about exists only in their idle imagination. So why not to be prepared in advance, huh? Besides, it’s so much fun, baby. You’ll see soon.”

As you attempted to stand up, he squeezed you with his solid, beefy arms, bringing you closer so you sat back on his lap, spreading your legs while Bucky made you face him, caressing your thighs. Your face was burning hot as your skirt got up, baring your silk stockings.

“I’ll show you everything you want to know.” He breathed into your face, and you felt Barnes was becoming hard, his dick brushing against your core covered by pretty black laced panties as he made you roll your hips, touching your back. “But let’s do it after a small break, ok?”

_____________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @iheartsebastianstan @soleil-dor @iheartsebastianstan @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny

#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #winter soldier #yandere

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vampire-named-gampire · 3 years

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Carry On Countdown - Day 22

Wow, watch me use the @carryon-countdown to plug my skating fic lmao

I don’t know if this counts, since Angelina is an OC and actually, Baz would totally make friends with/practically adopt a 17yo Russian girl, so I don’t know how unlikely it is, but it’s here. And also, I just really want to share more of On thin ice content, but the fic itself isn’t ready to be published yet so have this instead.

For context, Baz used to train in Russia aged 16-20, and now both him and Simon train in Montreal (no, idk why I chose Montreal out of all places but that’s how it is.) Also I think Gelya is the Russian diminutive/nickname used for the name Angelina, but I’m not sure. The fic is still in the works, so this scene is bound to change/expand (I did omit it a bit when writing because spoilers) but anyway, I’ll stop rambling now.

Prompt: Unlikely friends Word count: 1950 Rating: This scene is G, although the whole fic will be T or M

SIMON

The ride from the airport to the hotel is awful. Baz must’ve suspected this, because he made me sit in the front.

“Go on,” he said teasingly. “The only skater who has motion sickness.”

I have to say, sitting in the front almost didn’t make a difference. I may not know how to drive, but even I know you’re not supposed to drive like that. When the cab drops us off in front of the hotel, I don’t even bother hiding my relief. Baz laughs.

“I never want to experience this again,” I say, knowing full well that this is my life for the next week. The hotel might be close to the venue, but it’s still far enough for it to be a driving distance. I can only hope buses are less deadly than cabs.

“You know, Moscow traffic is actually tame compared to the rest of Russia,” Baz smirks, handing me my bags.

“Well then I never want to see the rest of Russia,” I mutter, slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder and stepping through the automated hotel doors. Baz scoffs and follows me.

This hotel is fancy – much fancier than the hotels we usually stay at. Baz doesn’t seem phased by it at all, the posh bastard. I bet the hotels he stays at when he’s on vacation are at least twice as posh.

He does, however, seem phased when someone yells “Basil!” across the lobby. Before either of us can register what’s going on, a small figure in a red jacket runs towards us at full speed and crashes into Baz, making him emit a surprised oof sound.

The moment I realize the figure is actually Angelina Nuriyeva is the moment she starts speaking in fast Russian. I don’t understand a thing, but Baz seems to, because he laughs and hugs her back.

I knew Baz and Angelina were friends, but I didn’t think they were this close. I mean, they’re the exact polar opposites; Angelina is an actual sunshine (she’s always hugging and smiling at everyone) and Baz is… Baz. (He’s a big softie, I know that, but he goes through great efforts to appear cold and closed off.)

But here he is, ruffling Angelina’s hair and telling her something in Russian. (I’m suddenly met with the realisation that being in Moscow means I’ll get to hear a lot more of Baz’s Russian. I am very much not complaining at this prospect, even if I don’t understand a thing of what they’re saying.)

Angelina is nodding along and she pulls out her phone to show him something, but that’s when Baz stops her, suddenly speaking in English.

“Wait, I think in the interest of Snow, we should switch to English. He already looks lost enough as it is,” he says.

“No, no, I’m fine, by all means…” I start, but I’m soon cut off by Angelina.

“Yes, of course! I’m sorry, Simon! Come here, it’s so good to see you,” she says and hugs me. (This is what I mean when I say Angelina is a sunshine.)

“Good to see you too,” I nod.

“I was just about to show Basil how his houseplants are doing. Do you want to see too?” she asks.

“Houseplants?” I don’t bother hiding the surprise in my voice. Since when does Baz like houseplants? His flat in Montreal doesn’t have any, spare the tiny cactus on the windowsill.

“I had a lot of houseplants when I still lived here, but I couldn’t take them with me on the plane when I moved, so Gelya took them in her care,” he explains, as if he’s reading my mind.

“Georgy is doing amazing but Ilya went a bit floppy. I changed his earth so now I’m hoping he gets better,” Angelina says, showing Baz a picture of two houseplants, side by side, one of them (Ilya?) looking slightly wilted.

“When it goes floppy, we say it wilts, and we don’t say earth, we say soil,” Baz corrects her. If I was Angelina, I’d probably be annoyed right now, but she just smiles at him.

“Thank you. It’s so much harder to learn English now that there’s no one here to practice with me,” she sighs.

“You know you can call me any time and we can practice,” Baz offers.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I stop them both. There is so much new information I have to process. “You had houseplants? And you named them Russian names? And you taught her English?” (That would actually explain why Angelina’s English is so good.)

“Yes, Snow, are you keeping up?”

“And when he gave them up, he wrote me a whole notebook on how to take care of them,” Angelina chimes in. “And another notebook with English grammar.”

Maybe I do have trouble keeping up. Who is this Baz? (And why is he so attractive?)

“I never thought of you as a houseplant kind of bloke,” I shrug. “You don’t have any houseplants in Montreal.”

“I’m still mourning the loss of my old children.” Baz deadpans before turning back to Angelina. “Show me Alyosha. He was always my favourite.”

BAZ

Unsurprisingly, the jet-lag catches up with me right when it’s time to go to bed. I don’t know why I was naïve enough to believe I won’t need melatonin when dealing with an eight-hour time difference. I better take it now, before it’s too late.

I sigh and throw the covers back before picking up my phone to check the time. However, a text message notification from Snow grabs my attention before I can do that.

Is he nervous again? It would make sense, since this is a big competition for him. Would I be able to sneak into his room and sneak out the next morning unnoticed? I doubt that. There are only athletes staying on our floor, the coaches, press and competition staff are all on different floors, and I doubt the athletes would pay us much attention, but it’s still risky.

I’d much rather risk a few weird looks than have Simon spiral into panic two days before a major competition, though. I decide I’ll go to his room if that’s what he needs.

Maybe I should check why he’s even texting me before I devise any plans.

SS: do u have melatonine? SS: jet lag

I sigh in relief. He’s not having a mental breakdown. He’s just jet-lagged. (Which is a bit strange for Snow, but I suppose even his circadian rhythm can take a blow from time to time.)

BP: It’s spelled melatonin and yes, I have it. You can come get it if you still need it BP: Room 254

SS: yes ik where u r SS: I’ll b right over

I sit on the edge of the bed and wait for Snow to knock on my door. He’s staying a few corridors down, in room 273, so it takes him a few minutes. I jump up when I hear his knock.

He’s standing in front of my door, wearing joggers, a hoodie and those damned glasses of his again. His hair is messed up, like he’s been tossing and turning too.

“I thought you didn’t get jet-lagged,” I say, stepping aside to let him in. He settles on the edge my bed while I rummage my luggage for melatonin supplements.

“I don’t get sleep jet-lagged, but I do get food jet-lagged,” he says.

“What does that even mean, Snow?”

“It means it’s lunchtime in Canada right now and I’m so hungry I can’t sleep.”

I bite back a laugh. He’s an idiot. (An adorable one but an idiot nonetheless.) “You don’t need melatonin, Snow, you need this,” I say, throwing a granola bar at him. He startles, but manages to catch it.

“You’re just giving this to me?” he asks, audibly surprised. (Which is ridiculous. He gives me food all the time and here he is, questioning my generosity over a fucking granola bar.)

“No, Snow, pay up. Fifty rubbles.”

“I don’t have any Russian money,” he laughs, tearing the wrapping open. He’s going to get crumbs all over my bed, but I don’t shoo him away. Instead, I finally find the melatonin supplements and take one with some water. “Do you still want one?” I ask.

“Do you have any more granola bars?”

I laugh and pass him another one before sitting down next to him on the bed.

“Are you nervous?” I ask, just to make sure he’s really okay.

“Right now? I’m just hungry,” he says, tearing open the second granola bar.

“Right,” I nod.

“Baz. Are you doing that thing where you’re worrying about me again?”

“A bit,” I admit.

“Stop,” he says like I can just turn it off like a tap. (I wish I could.) We sit in silence for a while, me thinking about how much easier my life would be if I just stopped worrying about Simon Snow and him chewing through his granola bar. “I didn’t know you and Angelina were such good friends,” he finally says.

“We trained together for four years,” I shrug, but it’s not just that. The training environment in Russia was intense. It’s a bloodbath to even get on the national team there, so of course it’s intense, but I think every other skater the rink was looking at me sideways because I was an outlier. I wasn’t Russian, I didn’t speak Russian and I think they felt like I didn’t belong there. (I know now that I really didn’t.) They eventually accepted me and by the time I left Russia, even the ones who refused to speak during my first year there were sad to see me go.

But Gelya was nice to me from the start. She was only thirteen at the time and didn’t speak any English, but she clapped for me when I did something well and cheered me on when I was having a bad day. (Thanks to her, davai was one of the first Russian words I learned.) She brought me homemade pyraniki on special occasions and when I got injured and had to go back to England to have surgery, she sent me get well soon cards all the way from Russia and she made the entire rink sign them.

That’s just who she is. She’s this nice to everyone and it didn’t matter to her if I was Russian or English, I was just another person at her rink who she could bring biscuits to. Over the four years that I’ve lived there, she became like a little sister to me.

“Baz?” Snow’s voice snaps me from my thoughts. “You seem tired. I’m going to go.”

I have half a mind not to ask him to stay here. (We both know we can’t do that.) “Okay,” I say instead. He stands up and throws the granola wrappers in the bin. I stand up too, to walk him to the door (I have manners), but he waves at me to sit back down.

“It’s fine,” he says.

“Will you be able to sleep?”

“If my hunger doesn’t get to me again, yes,” he laughs. He’s already by the door.

“Wait.” I stand up and grab the last granola bar from my bag, offering it to him. “Just in case,” I explain. I want him to stay here, to make sure he sleeps well and doesn’t spend the night worrying about the competition, but I can’t do that, so this is the least I can do.

“Thanks,” he smiles, tucking it in his pocket. Then he hugs me briefly and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

And he’s out the door.

#if any russians are reading this #1. i'm sorry simon thinks you're terrible drivers #2. how would you omit the name angelina?#i was watching the olympic channel once and someone referred to angelina melnikova as gelya #and that's about the amount of knowledge i have on the topic #well if it's the wrong diminutive i can always change it later #also yes baz speaks russian because of course he does #i mean he's baz #uh what else do i have to say #i think writing a few scenes ahead will help me unclog the slump i'm currently stuck on #i just need to get the boys through two more weeks of filler content before they can go to russia and the fun begins #also i'm really tired from working on two major projects so writing my wip for coc is kind of my way of taking a break i guess?#my original idea for today's prompt was shepard and mordelia #because i think they'd get along splendidly #ok now to general tags #coc 2020 #carry on countdown 2020 #carry on #wayward son #any way the wind blows #awtwb #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #snowbaz fanfiction #on thin ice #my writing

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creampuffqueen · 4 years

Text

Team Bonding

Word Count: 2,328

Requested by the lovely @ruby-tucker, a fic where Nova and Oscar are friends and go to the mall and eat Dairy Queen together. You ask, I deliver.

I’m not super happy with the ending of this, but I like the rest, so I think that’s good I guess. Hope y’all enjoy!

~~~~

“Nova Artino!” Nova’s wristband buzzed as Oscar’s voice sounded from it, urgent and harrying.

“What do you want? I’m working.” Nova said back. She was busy at her worktable, taking things apart and combining them back together. She hadn’t stopped working for two days.

“I’m coming to get you. I have a surprise.”

“I can’t.” She said. “I’m getting close with this-”

“Chill out, Nova. I’m taking you on a team bonding experience.” Oscar chuckled. Oh no.

“Team bonding?” Nova yelped. “Where? And why?”

“I’m coming to get you, and you’ll find out.” He laughed. “You don’t even have to dress up. You can wear sweatpants and a hoodie, I don’t care.”

He hung up, and Nova groaned. She was reluctant to leave her project, but after taking a moment to actually look at herself-

She needed a shower. And some fresh clothes. Adrian was right, she did have a tendency to forget about herself when she was working.

Nova didn’t wash her hair, since she didn’t know how close Oscar was, and didn’t want to go wherever he was taking her and the team with wet hair. Instead she tied her dark locks into a high ponytail and donned a fresh hoodie and leggings.

Ding. The doorbell rang through the small apartment, and Nova went to answer it.

“Hello, Miss Artino.” Oscar made a dramatic bowing gesture on her doorstep, cane in hand. “Will you do me the pleasure of joining me in my quest for Dairy Queen?”

“Your quest for what now?” Nova snorted. She stepped out, wincing at the sunlight.

“Oh my stars. Guys, she’s never had Dairy Queen!” Oscar shouted over down the stairs. Nova rolled her eyes at him, but let Oscar lead her back down to the street.

Everyone was there. Adrian, Ruby, Danna, and even Narcissa. While the redhead wasn’t really a Renegade, she was essentially part of the team. Nova liked her, she was the kind of person who one could sit in silence with and feel comfortable.

“How have we all let Oscar drag us out here?” She asked. “It’s like, what, nine in the morning?”

“Babe, it’s literally one o’clock.” Adrian chuckled.

“Oh. Yeah.” Nova sighed. She’d completely lost track of time again.

“Anyway,” Oscar continued, “We’re all going to the mall, and we’re going to have lots of fun. And after we have lots of fun, we are going to eat ice cream until we can’t walk anymore.”

“I can’t believe you dragged me away from my work for this.”

“It’ll be fun.” Oscar assured her. “Trust me.”

So Nova let him drag her along behind him as he walked, her wrist in one hand and his cane in the other. Ruby walked close by, laughing at his dumb jokes.

“Nova, have you ever been to the mall before?” Danna asked as they arrived in the massive parking lot.

“No. I lived in an abandoned subway tunnel for over half my life. I wasn’t allowed to go to the mall.”

“So I hate to be that person,” Oscar said with a wince, “But can you try to lighten up? Just a bit? A little? Like, a tablespoon lighter?”

Nova snorted. “Absolutely not.” Oscar made a pouty face, and Nova nudged his shoulder. “Kidding.”

“Great! Let’s go inside.” Oscar let go of Nova so he could take Ruby’s hand, leaving Nova with Adrian, Danna, and Narcissa.

Her boyfriend offered his hand, which Nova gladly took. As they approached the building, her blue eyes widened.

“Woah.”

She followed the others inside, looking around incredulously. The inside seemed even bigger, if that was possible. Stores were packed close together, little booths in the massive walkways between them. Advertisements were everywhere, faces of the Renegades on seemingly every surface.

“Adrian, is it weird to see your dads’ faces on literally everything?” She asked.

“I mean, yeah. Kinda.” He shrugged. “You get used to it, though.” They followed Oscar and Ruby through the thickening crowds, almost having to run to catch up.

“This place is insane.” Nova gasped. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“I am pretty good at rendering girls speechless.” Oscar smirked. Both Nova and Ruby rolled their eyes, Nova even going as far as to punch him softly.

“Can we please stop in the Barnes & Noble?” Naricssa begged.

“Why not.” Oscar agreed. “We’ve got all day.”

They followed the redhead into the nearby bookstore, and Nova watched as she grabbed what seemed like one of every book in the store. She skimmed some of the titles, but nothing interested her.

She did stop, however, when she found the magazines.

“Guys, look at this.” They all glanced over to what she was pointing at.

A picture of their team was on the cover of a magazine. Nova remembered when they’d done this, only because Simon and Hugh had practically begged them. Most of the pictures had turned out bad, but apparently not all, since they were currently the advertising for a magazine she’d never heard of.

“Wow. I look like shit.” Danna snorted. “Why did you guys let me out of the house that day?”

“No, you look pretty.” Narcissa said earnestly.

“Well, I know who looks pretty good in this.” Oscar grinned. He puffed out his chest, and Nova waited for the self-centered comment, but instead,

“Ruby. You look smoking, babe.” Ruby laughed and blushed, giving her boyfriend a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I’m gonna buy it.” Nova said with a devilish grin.

“Nooooooo.” Everyone groaned. Nova just flounced off to the register, magazine in hand.

She bought it, and ten minutes later completely regretted her decision. Why had she wasted her money on a stupid magazine she wasn’t even going to read when there was a literal carousel in the mall.

“Nova, have you ever ridden a carousel before?” Oscar asked.

“Yeah, they had one in the park for a Christmas festival one year.” She replied. “This one is way bigger.”

“C’mon,” He laughed, “This one is great.”

“I don’t have any money.” She sighed. “I spent it on the magazine.”

Her friend handed her a dollar, and Nova made to give it back, but he pushed her hand away. “It’s a dollar, Nova.”

So she let him push her towards the register, and she let him nearly shove her hand at the cashier to take the money and give her the carousel token. And after, she let Oscar drag her to the gate.

“Isn’t this kinda childish.” Nova asked, squirming uncomfortably. The only people on the thing were kids, or parents with young children. Not a teenager in sight.

“What does it matter?” Oscar laughed. He squeezed Ruby’s hand. “If they judge us, so what?”

The animal seats were moving up and down as cheery music blared, and Adrian took her hand. “What animal do you want?” He asked her with a smile.

Nova had to let it pass a few times before she decided. “I want the giraffe.”

“To make up for her height.” Oscar called over his shoulder.

“Rude!” Nova said back, though there were no bite to her words. Instead, she started laughing.

The carousel stopped a minute later, and the kids clambered off. Leaving the team, plus the large amount of new children that had gathered behind them to go on.

Nova put her token in the gate, and it swung open. She followed Oscar as he and Ruby ran, hand in hand, to their chosen animals. She got to the giraffe and pulled herself up, finding herself next to Naricssa on the elephant next to her. Danna had a wolf, and Adrian had gone with the typical pony.

When the ride started, Nova was nearly thrown off as it lurched forward. She clung to the metal giraffe with a yelp, wishing there was some sort of seatbelt. Especially as it started moving up and down.

Ahead of and beside her, she could hear her friends whooping and cheering. Even quiet Narcissa laughed happily, throwing her hands in the air.

Nova, on the other hand, held onto the moving animal for dear life. It was only after taking a moment to realize that she was hardly two feet off the ground that she felt comfortable enough to lessen her death grip.

The spinning motion was exhilarating, and she found herself getting into it. Why were these things supposed to be just for kids? Nova let out a loud cheer as the giraffe rose and fell in tune with the music.

It was all over far too soon, and Nova and her team tumbled off the ride with wobbly legs all around. Oscar was laughing nearly hysterically as he clung to his cane.

Nova leaned against the gate, the other hand clutching her belly from her laughter. “That was amazing.” She managed to get out.

“I knew you’d like it.” Oscar said with a grin.

They managed to leave the area with only one minor issue, when Ruby toppled into Adrian, sending them both sprawling to the tile floor in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

Nova helped Ruby up, and Danna took care of Adrian, and they all got to a table to sit.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Oscar started, “But I’m gonna need some ice cream.”

“If I eat ice cream I will puke all over you.” Danna groaned.

“Good thing I’m not making you eat it. Nova, come with?”

Nova tried to protest, but a moment later she was being dragged away by Oscar, Ruby, and Adrian.

They pulled her towards another store, which Nova concluded must be the “Dairy Queen” Oscar was talking about. Why? Because it said ‘Dairy Queen’ in giant, bold letters in front of the store.

“You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted a Dairy Queen Blizzard.” Oscar said. Nova turned to the others, but both Ruby and Adrian nodded enthusiastically.

“Fine. What flavors do they have?”

“Every flavor. All the flavors.” Oscar gestured to the large menu as they approached the counter. “Whatever flavor you desire.”

“Do they have just regular vanilla?” Looking at all the choices, Nova felt a bit overwhelmed.

“I mean yeah, but you can go get vanilla anywhere. Only Dairy Queen has… let me see.. Heath Caramel Brownie.” Oscar chuckled, and pulled Nova along with him.

“I’m gonna get you a cookie dough Blizzard.” He said after another moment’s thought. “You’ll like it.”

“Why are you making all my choices for me?”

“Because this is a team building exercise, remember? We’re building trust.” Oscar put his hand on her shoulder. “Do you really think I would get you something to eat that was bad?”

They made it to the counter, and Oscar ordered the ice cream for him and Nova. Ruby and Adrian got their own, and they moved to the line waiting for their food.

“How come you didn’t bother Ruby about getting something plain?” Nova complained. “A chocolate dipped cone-”

“Because I’m his girlfriend, and he knows not to mess with me.” Ruby laughed.

Oscar and Adrian joined her, and Nova glared at all three of them. “You are all awful people. How dare you.”

“Order for Oscar.” The worker called. And even with his cane, Oscar beat Nova to the counter. The worker tipped the two cups of ice cream upside down, and Nova’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. What the-

However, the ice cream was so thick that it stayed, and the worker handed Oscar the cups and two spoons. He turned back to Nova and handed her hers, and she gave him a sidelong glance as she took a bite.

“Oh.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Oscar nudged her. “Say it.”

“It’s pretty good. You were right.” Nova sighed.

“Ooh! She said it! Adrian, your girlfriend just said I was right! Imagine that!” He laughed at Nova’s glare, and the two of them walked back to the table where Danna and Narcissa were.

Narcissa already had her nose in a book, and Danna was leaning back with her feet on the table. They sat down, and Nova took another bite of ice cream.

Oscar was practically shoveling his in his mouth, but Nova decided to take her time. She chewed thoughtfully on a piece of cookie dough, and smiled at Adrian and Ruby when they returned.

They all descended into light conversation, Danna stealing the magazine from Nova and continuing to chuckle over their picture. Nova took a large bite of ice cream, and-

Oh sweet rot.

Her entire brain was exploding. She nearly dropped her spoon as she reached to clutch her forehead, eyes welling up at the sudden pain.

“Oh, shit, brainfreeze?” Oscar asked. Nova couldn’t answer.

After a few grueling, painful moments, the fire in her head ceased, and Nova leaned back, groaning.

“What was that?”

“Brainfreeze.” Adrian said sympathetically. “Happens sometimes.”

“It felt like my head was being split open by a mideavel torture device, how can you be so calm?” She yelped.

“Have you never had a brainfreeze before?” Osca asked curiously.

“No.”

“It sucks, but it’s not, like, deadly. I think. I’m pretty sure.” He licked the back of his red spoon. “Just happens sometimes.”

She was reluctant to take another bite, but after a few licks and nothing happened, Nova finally finished her ice cream.

And just like that, Oscar’s ‘team bonding experience’ came to an end. Ruby left first, finishing her chocolate-dipped cone and giving Oscar a quick goodbye kiss. Adrian was next, and Danna and Narcissa left together, Danna helping her girlfriend carry all her books home.

Which left Nova with Oscar.

“I’ll walk you home.” He offered. “I mean, I’m no Adrian Everhart, but-”

“Okay, you dork.”

He grinned, and stood up. “Alright then. But before we leave, was this fun?”

“Yeah.” Nova admitted.

“Are you glad I dragged you away from your very important work?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

They didn’t say much else, instead walking back to Nova’s apartment in comfortable, companionable silence.

~~~~

Fanfic/Headcanon Requests!

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #marissa meyer #nodrian #osby #danissa #nova artino #adrian everhart #oscar silva #ruby tucker #danna bell #narcissa cronin #team bonding #fluff

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raphaelshusband · 3 years

Text

[i] am [l]ucky t[o] ha[ve] [you] | saphael one shot

Raphael Santiago stretched out on the king's bed. He waited a moment for the heaviness to disappear from his eyelids and stood up, sliding his feet into the fluffy slippers. He picked up a cozy scarlet robe from the ground and threw it over him. He walked over to the heavy red curtains and then opened them. A winter landscape greeted him. Each smallest plant was covered with a layer of cold white fluff. He left his room and headed to the kitchen. He descended the red and gold carpeted stairs, running his hand along the cool silver railing.

Raphael started the coffeemaker and placed a mug under it. After that he found a pack of cigarettes, he opened the window to let in some fresh, cool air. Brunet leaned against the windowsill and puffed out gray puffs of smoke as he looked at the snow-covered spruce trees in his garden.

As the cigarette was nearing its end, he put it out in the ashtray and went with the coffee to the living room. He sat down on a gilded couch and a Siamese cat jumped on his lap. Santiago smiled and scratched Amor behind the ear. After a while he heard the doorbell.

Por que demonios?

Ignoring his appearance, he entered the hall and opened the door. His friend was standing on the stone steps. The boy was wearing only a hoodie. He was all red in his face and his hands were slowly turning a bluish color.

"Simon? Por el amor de Dios, what are you doing here? Come in!" He schouted and pushed his friend inside.

"R.. Raphael.. I promise that I won't stay here for long.." He stammered out, teeth chattering.

"You're not going anywhere, come on." Raphael pushed him onto the couch. "Dios, Simon, you have frostbites. Wait, here" he ran upstairs. Raphael returned with a blanket over his shoulder and a bowl of cold water. He stood in front of Simon and wrapped him in a cozy, dark blanket. "I'll make you tea."

"R..Raphael.. no.. don't be silly.." he whispered.

"Simon, you're definitely hypothermic, you need to keep warm," he ignored the boy's protests as he put the kettle on. He realized his appearance and, embarrassed, quickly knotted his robe. Amor, not understanding the situation, rubbed his head against Lewis's knee and began to walk on his lap. "Amor, get off" Raphael ordered, handing the mug to the brown-eyed man in one hand. He took the other one gently in his hands and gradually began soaking in cold water. "I know it's cold, but if I put it in hot, you'd be in pain.. now tell me what happened."

Simon started to cry.

"I'm a Jew, right?"

"Of course."

"My.. my mother is very religious, but also homophobic. I know.. she doesn't show it, but she is.." He sniffed, took a deep breath. Santiago took care of his other hand. "I admitted to her that I am gay," the Mexican looked up quickly. "She t.. threw me out. I don't even know if I can come back for.. for my things.."

"Oh, Simon.." the dark-eyed man stopped and wrapped his arms around the boy. Simon hid his head in the hollow of Raphael's neck and sobbed softly. "Shh.." he placed a gentle kiss on his friend's hair. Simon pulled away from him and stood up.

"I'll go now.. I won't disturb you .."

"Are you kidding? It's cold as fuck outside! Did you eat anything at all?"

"I ate yesterday.. but I found ten dollars in my hoodie so I can go to..

"No." He interrupted him. "You're staying here" Santiago grabbed hm by shoulders and draped in the blanket again. "You'll warm up, I'll give you a clothes to change, and you'll go take a shower. I'll make you something to eat."

"Raphael, stop.."

"I insist" he cut short. I look after the people I love. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"I was wandering the streets.."

"Eres un estupido! You should have come to me right away, not in the morning with frostbites! Drink tea. I'm going to change" he said and returned to his room. When he changed in the dressing room, he take warm pajamas and a fluffy towel from the wardrobe. Then he went back to Simon. "Go take a shower, mi sol. I'll make you breakfast and you'll sleep. Okay?"

"Sure.." he grabbed things and started climbing the stairs.

"First floor, you go to the end of the hall and turn left. First door."

"Thanks" Simon smiled weakly. Raphael went back to the kitchen and filled forgotten cat bowls in the process.

Thirty minutes later Simon was in the kitchen. Santiago offered him a plate of croissants. Brunet sat down in front of the boy.

"What about school?"

"I can't go back. Mom is a lecturer there. Probably everyone knows about it by now."

"Have you thought about changing direction? From what you told me, your mother chose accounting for you. Simon, you love music. You should go this way."

"I have no money .." he replied softly.

"I could hire you. In my coffee shop," he leaned forward. "You'd show your customers your musical talent every Friday or.. I'd just teach you the role of a barista."

"What? N.. no, no. I can't accept this offer," he shook his head. "I have enough of your help today.. I really appreciate it, but.. it's too much.."

"Think about it, Simon. It might be a good solution."

"Alright.. let me think it over .."

"Come on, I'll show you where you'll sleep" and began leading him to the second floor. When Lewis lay wrapped in sheets, he really wanted to grab Santiago by the wrist and tell him what he felt. He wanted to tell him I love you. But instead he muttered softly:

"I'm lucky to have you."

end of the part one.

#saphael #simon lewis x raphael santiago #one shot

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vanchlo · 4 years

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The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Nine, “Strength In Weakness”

Warning! This story contains mentions of: death, cancer, heart attacks, hospitals, funerals, and brief mentions of end of life care.

Find all chapters by clicking here :-)

Check out inspo tag here! :*

Sneakyyyyyy Peeeeeeeeek

Our tears hold silent words of understanding. Understanding that the other is in pain. Pain perhaps we can’t name, but that of which we share. And they hold the comfort found in that understanding. The pain of watching a sick loved one, because why else would he also be here at 9 pm on a Wednesday night? His sniffles fill my ears, with the movie a hum in the background. I feel everything pour into those tears as I clutch the back of his jumper.

The missing him. The regret. The hundreds of emotions because of that stupid ring. The longing for him. The whirlwind of emotions from when he spoke to my class. The sad happiness at seeing him behind me at the vending machine. The relief. The worry about my dad. The fear from the surgeon’s words. All of the stress. The pain I’ve bottled up from being away from him.

“Harry,” I say aloud, almost on accident. My head would’ve said it, anyways.

“Becks,” he whispers, sounding disbelieving with a shake of his head.

“Do you h-have any recommendations then?” I stutter, blinking hard with a mental curse for not even being able to say three words to him before screwing up.

“Uh, tha giant cinnamon roll isn’t too bad, ‘specially when ya microwave it. ‘s very filling, tho. I doubt ya'll be able t’ finish it all,” he answers with a soft shrug.

I pull my battered purple wallet from my brown purse. Finding my card, I swipe it and press the code for the cinnamon roll. The curly wire holding it in place unravels. It falls with a satisfying thud.

“Maybe I’ll have to find somebody to share it with then,” I quip, turning to face him with the cinnamon roll now clutched in my hand. He wasn’t kidding, this thing is big.

“Well, I might just know where a microwave ‘s,” he replies with a smirk. I nod and follow his long legs clad in fitted joggers.

The silence is unsettling and awkward as I follow him down the length of the hallway. I wonder at first if he knows where he’s going, but after about twenty seconds, we arrive in the family room on this floor. Hmm, perhaps he’s been in this hospital longer than he can remember, too. Sofas and chairs surround a tv. Familiar puzzles, magazines, and books occupy the nearby table. The fridge hums and clunks nearby.

“Think there’s anything good on the telly at this time?” I ask nervously, finding a seat on the comfiest sofa around. Fiddling with my hands, I watch him open the bag and place it inside the microwave.

“Prolly not. ‘s prolly a buncha adverts an’ tha like. Maybe a good movie on somewhere,” Harry answers.

I blink hard, and yet the same unbelievable image still surrounds me.

Harry standing with his back to me.

Black joggers hugging his lean legs.

Black trainers.

A gray hoodie donning his upper half.

His curls are short, but maybe a little longer since the last time I saw him in that lecture hall.

He plays with them, but stops when the microwave announces its ends with annoying beeping. It’s hard, but I rip my eyes away from his body and reach to pick up the remote. I see him out of the corner of my eye grabbing plates and utensils. The television screen comes to life in front of me, and sure enough an advert for a special type of pillow fills the screen.

“Christ, not one o’ those my pillow adverts again,” Harry remarks disdainfully as he sits down on the other side of the sofa with a sigh. I toe off my shoes and let them fall to the floor.

Crossing my legs criss-cross applesauce, I giggle and change the channel. “You say that like you know what he’s talking about.”

“Yeah ‘cause I do, tha bloke’s bloody annoying. I can’t sleep some nights an’ ‘ll accidentally leave tha telly on an’ wake up t’ his bleedin’ voice at 3 in tha morning,” he huffs, pulling a laugh from my lips. “Here ya go, but be careful cuz ‘s hot.”

“Thanks.”

“No, thank you. ‘ve been cravin’ one o’ these, but ‘ve been tryna stay away from those bloody vendin’ machines,” he mumbles, tsking his lips as he cuts a piece of the cinnamon roll.

I prop my plate on my lap and surf through the channels before finding the movie, The Shining, on an odd channel. “Oooooo, this is a good one,” I comment before picking up my plastic knife and fork.

“Yeahhhhhhh. Hey, I wouldn’t ‘ave pegged ya fer a King fan,” Harry comments and I shrug before laughing at him. I watch him blow on the huge steaming bite of cinnamon roll. “What, ‘m hungry an’ tha cafe closed hours ago? Plus, dis floor has tha best vendin’ machines.”

“Nothing, I . . . just can’t remember you ever being patient enough to not burn your mouth,” I laugh, and watch one trickle from his lips. “You were always burning your tongue and mouth on those tacos, and gnocchi soups we had. It looks like nothing’s changed.”

“Oh, but tha churros an’ chocolate sauce were even worse. They were always pipin’ hot,” he adds with his mouth full of ooey gooey cinnamon roll. An uncalled for dirty thought pops into my head, making me clench my fist.

I laugh in agreement, making it hard to blow on my bite of cinnamon roll I hold before my lips. After recovering, the chunk of warm pastry melts in my mouth. “Wow, you weren’t kidding, this is good. How is it always that the trashy vending food tastes the best?”

“I dunno, I reckon they put somethin’ innit t’ make it so addictin’. Tha’s how they make so much bloomin’ money,” Harry comments, cutting another bite as he speaks. My eyes are drawn to his hands. Long fingers, speckled with dark brown hairs. And covered with a couple of rings. When my eyes flit to his ring finger, nothing’s there. My heart does a weird somersault in my chest. At the same time, it pushes away the questions forming in my head.

Surprisingly, a comfortable silence surrounds us as we eat. And our eyes are glued to the screen playing the end of the movie. Harry finishes his plate first, surely burning his mouth at some point. I finish soon after and we just sit there, lost in the movie. I can’t help peeking at him a few times, and that naked finger. Thick stubble lines his cheeks. It suits him. And I like it.

I see tiredness pulling at the corners of his eyes when they look back at me. “What?” he says, eyebrows furrowed. I shake my head with blushing embarrassment as the thought still sits there. His lips curl into a smile that grows teasing.

“N-nothing.”

“I don’ believe you,” Harry continues, refusing to let it go. “Ya’ve neva been a good liar, Becks. C’mon, tell me.”

“Fine,” I relent, watching his face brighten at my words. “It’s just odd. I uh, noticed you were wearing a ring on your ring finger when you spoke to my class back in October. But, now you’re not.” the observation tumbles from my mouth, glad to greet the air. Finally, yet awkwardly.

My heart sprints in my chest, afraid to hear what he has to say. Apprehensive to hear the answer that I’ve been searching for. I try to prepare myself for it, but at the same time, something inside of me tries to keep me rational.

“Oh, ya noticed that?” he smiles, earning a nod from me. “Good, that was tha point. Well, not you, jus’ anybody. Tha bloody uni girls always flirt with me when I do those talks. So I wear dis random ring on that finga, hopin’ they’ll back off. It helps, but doesn’t solve tha problem,” Harry explains. His words wash over me like cold shower on a hot day.

I silently release a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. Then I hear that familiar chuckle of his.

“What, did ya really think I was married, Becks?”

I finally look over at him. His eyes crinkle with a knowing grin. I shove his arm and he only giggles harder. “I don’t know,” I confess quietly, looking away with embarrassment.

I don’t know how I’m going to live this one down.

But soon a laugh is coaxed from my lips to join his. It’s filled with nothing but relief, and happiness. That though had balled up into a knot in the back of my head. Always bothering me at the worst moments. It worried me, even though I knew I didn’t have that privilege anymore.

Any more thoughts that were coursing through my skull about it, are finished by his words. “No, ‘m not bloody married, or engaged. Although I thought I’d be at 28, ‘m not even close,” Harry divulges, a sad laugh framing his words.

My laugh quiets along with his as we enter uncharted waters. I look at him and give him a sympathetic smile. My eyes leave him, but I feel his on me. I wait, wondering if he’s going to say something. After several seconds, I decide to speak.

“Yeah, well-,” I begin, but I stop when his words tread over mine.

“How ‘bout you-,” Harry tries to say, but stops when we both start talking at the same time. Another laugh floats between us, and ends in an uncertain silence.

“Looks like yer better off than me, an’ met a nice bloke at tha uni.” Twirling a silver ring around my pointer finger, his words root me from my spot. My eyes widen at them and then I squint. I try to think of what he means, but it’s hard.

Unexpectedly, I realize what he’s talking about. And I smile because of the alarm shouting in my head.

Wait, what does this mean?!

You know what this means, Becky! Maybe he has fe-

“You mean Simon?” I ask, cutting them off before I go too far.

I really don’t want to go to that place again. We ran into each other at the hospital during a shit day. That’s all.

“Oh ‘s that his name? I dunno, jus’ looked like ya were with someone. Had his arm ‘round ya,” Harry says in a drawl. Now, his eyes are back on the telly. On Jack Nicholson.

And there, the thoughts come again. They click together like puzzle pieces. But I don’t let them lead me away from this moment. From reality.

But, Becky, he lik-!

“No no, Simon . . Simon’s just my friend. We kind of knew each other in high school back in Madley. We were both surprised to see each other in Crim. and we picked up where we left off,” I tell him, peeking a look over at him. But I have a good feeling he’s pulling a Becky and avoiding eye contact. “Plus, Simon has a boyfriend named Dylan.”

“Ohhhhh, my bad,” Harry replies, glancing over at me. When we meet eyes, his crimson face dissolves into giggles.

They’re contagious and bring one forth from my lips. All of a sudden, I can’t stop laughing. And neither can he, it seems. It feels so nice. The laughs keep coming, rolling over each other. Smoothing over the fissure that ring had eroded inside of me. They make me feel less stupid about the whole thing. Instead, they help me to acknowledge the fact that it was just a misunderstanding. And that evidently, they happen to all of us. I try not to read into it any more than that as our laughs die down. I won’t let myself. A comfortable silence fills the space our laughs previously did.

A scene from the movie catches our attention, and the misunderstandings are seemingly forgotten. I really get into the movie for the next 10 minutes, and I think so does he. I can barely tear my eyes away. But they leave the telly when he pulls his phone from his pocket. I watch his face turn from calm to upset when he reads something. On the other side of the couch, he types something back quickly. But I see the tears soon pricking at the corners of his eyes as he holds his forehead.

I don’t know what to say as I look away, trying to give him privacy. But then I hear him sniffle and try to clear his throat. I know how that goes, and that it doesn’t work. It doesn’t make the lump in your throat go away. He sighs and when I chance another look, he’s looking away from me. But I hear the crying. Suddenly, I feel my heart break, even more than it already has today.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m scooching over to sit next to him. Seeing his left hand sitting on his knee, I pick it up and lace my fingers with his. I give it a squeeze and return my eyes to the telly. And wait. A familiar scene unfolds in front of me on the screen. I don’t even grimace at the blood like I did when I was a child. I take comfort in the nostalgia tied to this movie for me. But it doesn’t drown out the sounds of Harry crying. And the pain I feel at not being able to help him.

After a few more minutes of watching the movie, no words pass between us. But then I think to check on him again. As I do, he looks over at me with red eyes. Wet from spent tears that keep coming. A shy smile inches up his lips, but it’s an embarrassed one. And so it doesn’t last long.

“You’re gonna make me cry,” is all I say, because the tears are already bleeding into my words. We pull the other into our arms where we go to cry on their shoulder.

The missing him.

The regret.

The hundreds of emotions because of that stupid ring.

The longing for him.

The whirlwind of emotions from when he spoke to my class.

The sad happiness at seeing him behind me at the vending machine.

The relief.

The worry about my dad.

The fear from the surgeon’s words.

All of the stress.

The pain I’ve bottled up from being away from him.

Fistfuls of my hoodie are balled up in his hands. His prickly face is hidden in my neck where he spends his tears. I long to lose my fingers in his familiar hair to comfort him. But I know that I’m already doing that as we share each other’s pain. His clean scent fills my nose as I breathe shakily against his shoulder.

“‘s my granddad, Becks,” he chokes out, coughing. “H-he hadda heart attack this afternoon. Dunno if he’ll make it. He’s onna ventilator with machines keeping him alive. I neva wanted t’ see him like that. An’ tha thing ‘s, he has in his last wishes t’ not live like that . . . A-and now my family’s askin’ me if I wanna be there when he passes,” his words stop, making my heart grow heavy with each one.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. That should never be a decision you have to make,” I tell him in raggedy breaths. “It’s so awful watching somebody die. Not even just in the moment, but after. When my granddad passed, right when I started working for you, I was there when it happened. And it still haunts me to this day. My mum forced me to be there, and I think I wished I hadn’t. It was terrible watching him gasp for air, and not knowing when would be his last breath. But at the same time, I’m glad he wasn’t alone. I don’t know, it’s a hard decision to make. But you need to make that decision for you and what you want, Harry. Not what your family wants.”

He nods into my neck, humming an ‘mmmmhmm.’ “Do you need to decide now?” I ask, words still coated in tears.

“No, I don’ think so. But he had surgery a few hours ago an’ tha doctors are sayin’ it doesn’ look like he’ll wake up,” Harry confesses, words dissolving into more tears.

I hold him tighter against me and cry with him. My tears come from the fear of losing my dad. Remembering being in the same seat as Harry when my granddad passed. And I cry for Harry and the nightmare he’s going through.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” is all I can say.

I listen to his heavy sobs that make his body shake. Pressing my lips together hard, I shed tears into his hoodie. I feel like I can hardly catch my breath. It only becomes worse when I hear the next words that leave his lips.

“Is yer dad okay, Becks?” he asks, trying to breathe in. But I can tell it’s hard by the shakiness of his words.

“I don’t know,” I sob, my words almost incoherent. He nods into my neck, rubbing a hand up and down my back. “He had surgery to remove the tumor. B-But it took longer than they said it would. And then the surgeon said they don’t know if they got it all. Which means he for sure has to have more chemo. And I’m just so scared. I don’t want my dad to have cancer anymore.”

“‘m really sorry, Becks,” Harry coughs in between tears, his hand rubbing in circles. Uneven breaths leave his lips as choked sobs leave mine. The tears follow one after the other. Ugly sounds follow.

I can’t find the strength to speak again, and so I nod. My arms shake clutching at his sweatshirt. My white-knuckled hands relax and I fall into him. All of my inhibitions and self-made promises are out the window. I told myself I wouldn’t let him in again, and here I am. And I’m glad I broke that promise. Long, broken sobs are muffled into his shoulder. His hands move in circles on my back as my mind finally entertains all of the possibilities.

My dad’s cancer not being cured.

My dad needing even more chemotherapy.

Maybe even radiation.

None of that working.

Everything being the same between Harry and I after this.

And how much that hurts me. All of it.

Talking to my dad about his last wishes.

Watching him take his last breath.

I let Harry hold me as I let myself feel every single raw feeling. Sobs rack my body and make it shake as a steady stream of tears paints my cheeks. I hear his too, and they only make me cry harder.

Wiping my nose with a kleenex, I watch him surf through the channels. Finally, he settles on an old episode of Scooby Doo, Where Are You? The daunting figure of the Wax Phantom materializes in the museum. I lift my head and readjust where it rests on Harry’s shoulder. Before my eyes, the monster trudges around the wax museum. My eyelids grow heavy, but I blink hard trying to wake up. This happens again and again, with my eyelids slowly growing heavier.

But it’s no use. After too many times, I can’t resist succumbing to sleep with my head on Harry’s shoulder and his arm rubbing mine.

I wake up on the surface of the scratchy sofa. The telly is playing an advert softly in the background. Rubbing my eyes crusted with sleep, I groan. With a tired sigh, I try to fall back asleep. I almost begin to, but a thought steals the sleep away. Pulling myself up to sit, I look around with fuzzy eyes.

I’m all alone.

Two blue hospital blankets have fallen to lay at my feet.

And two white pillows sit ignored in front of me.

Checking my phone, I see the time is 3:24 am. And that I have missed calls and texts from several people.

Robbie.

My aunt.

My grandma.

My mother.

And 2 texts from Harry.

Ignoring all of the others, I quickly open Harry’s from 16 minutes ago.

i’m sorry. had 2 go. didn’t wanna wake u. thank u for being there 2night, so much

And there’s another one that came a few minutes later.

im so proud of u becks. u know why

My heart skips when I read his words, and the heart emoji that finishes them like a period. I’m guessing he means the stuff going on with my dad, but more so for going back to law school. It makes my heart swell with happiness. But it beats fast at the sight of them as well, suddenly worrying what happened that he had to leave. And in that same moment, I feel heavy with worry about him. My thumbs dart across the screen, composing a hurried and sleepy reply.

It’s okay I understand. I hope everything is okay. Remember to do what’s best for you. Please let me know if I can help. You’re so welcome Harry and I can’t thank you enough too. And thank you so much. I really want to make you proud. Thinking of you

I don’t bother to read over my words finished with a heart emoji tool. I send the text, and try to go back to sleep. Because I can’t think about everything that happened tonight.

My dad.

Seeing Harry, and sharing what we did.

And him . . leaving.

The sickening worry it fills me to wonder the reason why.

Because now it’s like it never happened.

Luckily, the second my head hits the pillow, I’m asleep again.

I can’t stop looking. I hardly believe what I see, but I know I have to. A stranger stares back at me. Sullen eyes. Shaven cheeks for the first time in weeks. Styled hair. Dry eyes that stare back at me blankly. And a mouth that feels like it hasn’t smiled in months. But I know it hasn’t been that long. But this nightmare feels like it.

“Shit,” I mutter, bending down to pick up the violet tie that fell to the floor. Black wildflowers scatter the fabric. It seemed perfect for the occasion when I picked it out yesterday. But now I’m not sure anymore.

I wrap it around my neck again, for the second or third time. Going through the motions to tie it, I get a little farther than last time. Then my fingers stop, like they keep doing. Huffing, I step back and lean against the wall. I feel the chapped surface of my bottom lip come between my teeth. Oh yeah, I gotta remember to bring chapstick too, I add to my seemingly never ending list.

My thoughts are interrupted by the clanging sound of my postbox outside. Within a few seconds, I’ve opened my door and see my postman walking onto the next house. A stack of letters is what I find waiting for me.

“Great, mo’ sympathy cards an’ bills,” I groan, dropping the mail on the table beside the door. With plans to finally get this damn tie tied, I look back to the mirror above the table. But something catches my eye.

The letters have splayed themselves out sloppily on the brown table. Most of them are white, but one of them isn’t. One is a soft blue. Once again, the words inside of my head are stolen away by a sound. Fishing out my phone from the pocket of my slacks, I answer it.

“Ya, I know. ‘m gonna leave soon, ‘s not like ‘m late or anythin’,” I respond, sifting through the letters. Bill after bill meets my eyes. “I was there all bloody night last night fer tha wake, so why do I need t’ be early t’day?” Tossing the bills to the side, I keep sifting through them.

“I know, alright? But I . . I jus’ can’t alright? I can’t do all tha huggin’ e’rybody right now, ‘m sick of it. There’s plenty mo’ family ‘round who can do it,” I tell them through gritted teeth. The powder blue card is next in my hands. My voice catches when my brain conjures the owner of that bubbly handwriting. “I’ll be there at 2:30 an’ no earlier,” I rush, hanging up on them. Stuffing my phone away again, I instead pick up the envelope.

Within seconds, I pull the card out from the sea of blue. Wildflowers decorate the front along with words card companies think are comforting. All of the other ones have hardly been that, but these ones are closer than before. Just seeing her handwriting peeking at me from the inside is more comforting than all of the others combined. I feel the tears pressing at the back of my eyes, ready to fall at command.

With a deep breath, I’m greeted by her bubbly letters in purple ink. I can’t say I’m surprised, it’s her favorite color.

Harry, It took me twenty minutes to pick out a card, because none of them seemed good enough. None of them said the right words that I wanted to say, so I finally just picked this one. Even if I looked for 3 hours, I don’t know if I would’ve found the “right” one... I hope it’s okay. I saw your granddad’s obituary in the paper today. I don’t even think the words ‘I’m sorry’ are close to what I feel for you and want to say, Harry. They weren’t the right words when my granddad passed. They were what everybody said, and after a while, I hated hearing them. They became redundant and meaningless. But I am sorry, Harry. I’m sorry that you lost your grandfather, and the unimaginable pain you’re going through missing him and trying to live a life that he’s no longer a part of. I’m so sorry that you’re hurting. Some days it seems it gets easier. But other days are hard, I’ve learned. They’re the anniversaries, birthdays, days they enjoyed, family get togethers, or really any day that ugly grief decides to return. We all handle grief differently and so it’s hard to give advice. But take care of yourself. Please, Harry. If that means staying at home watching Netflix, or distracting yourself with work, that’s okay. It’s your pain, it belongs to you. It’s okay to handle the pain however you decide to, but please take care. You don’t have to visit his grave. You don’t have to talk about him again if you don’t want to. You don’t even have to cry if that’s not you. Or you can cry all of the time, or you can talk about him all of the time, too. But you do have to feel the pain, as terrible as it is. I never really found anything that helped, but I like to remember my granddad sometimes by doing things he loved. I go fishing on opening day with Robbie, I stuck one of those suctioned bird feeder on one of our windows, I make or buy a vanilla cupcake on his birthday and sing happy birthday to him, sometimes I visit his grave and bring things he likes but I know I don’t have to go there to talk to him. I know that I don’t have to do those things to make it feel like he’s with me, because he always is. I’m sorry that this card is all about me, but I hope that my words help. Even just a little bit. Please know that I’m thinking of you, and your family. I know what you’re going through, and how hard it is. I’m not going to say ‘things will be okay,’ because I know that’s the opposite of how things feel right now and for the near future. I know how much it hurts. I know that by the time you get this card, the funeral is any day now. That was one of the hardest parts for me, and it made it all the more surreal. I’m sending you so much strength and love, Harry. If there's anything I can do to help, please know I’m here for you. Love, Becks xoxoxo

The first laugh I’ve spent in days greets the air. But it’s ironic and surprising, I’m not sure. Only a few seconds later, tears accompany it. Soon, my phone is back in my hand where I banished it from minutes ago. And my ass is sitting on the bottom of my staircase. And I’m dialing the number I’ve been itching to for the last week.

They answer on the third thing.

My aching heart is soothed with the sound of their voice. Like the drought welcoming the rain.

“Hi,” I say slowly, my words sodden with tears.

“Hi, Harry,” she replies, sounding surprised. But her voice brings me comfort, the most I’ve felt in the last 8 days. It’s loud where she is, but in a couple of seconds, it isn’t anymore.

“I got yer card, I uh jus’ read it. It was so sweet, Becks. I don’ think ‘thank you’ could begin t’ cover it,” I tell her slowly, uncertain what to say. I watch my feet grow blurry in front of me, and then refocus when another warm tear hits my cheek.

“I’m glad you got it. You don’t have to thank me. W-what are you doing?” she asks, taking time with her words.

“Tryin’ t’ get meself t’ put onna bloody tie. Ya know, me granddad tried t’ teach me once. But he gave up an’ admitted me gran’ always did it fer him,” I confess, the words falling out fast.

An amused hum comes from her. “That’s funny. My granddad always bragged about being able to tie ties blindfolded, or something. He tried to teach Robbie, but it never stuck. It just ended in tears and yelling,” she comments.

A smile warms on my lips, and I nod. To who, I don’t know, since she certainly can’t see me doing it. Regrettably.

“It’s today, isn’t it?” she guesses softly, earning a confirming ‘mmmhm’ from me.

“I’m wearin’ all black. Seems like too much of tha color, but I couldn’ bear t’ look at anythin’ else in me wardrobe.”

“As long as you’re comfortable, Harry, and black isn’t such a bad color. It fits the emotion, I guess you could say,” Becky says. I sniffle and wish her voice didn’t stop playing in my ear.

“Yer right . . . ,” I agree aloud, not knowing what to say next. I hate this part. “I didn’ stay that night I saw you. I . . . thought I could do it, but I couldn’. I drove ‘round an’ cried, feelin’ all sorts o’ terrible. Terrible fer not bein’ there with him. Terrible as I waited fer tha text that he was gone. Even more so when I got tha text . . . An’ terrible ‘cause it didn’ really feel much different aftawards.”

“That’s okay. Grief doesn’t really follow any rules, Harry. And it certainly doesn’t make any sense. It never feels right. I’m so sory,” Becky tells me, somehow making sense of something I can’t even begin to make sense of.

“Ya ‘ave all tha right words t’ say,” I smile with a laugh that’s out of place, yet sad. My lips quiver as the tears run over them.

“I doubt it, but I hope that means they’re helping in some capacity.”

“Ya always help, Becks,” I divulge quietly, unsure if she heard me or not.

“Can you tell me what he was like?” Becky inquires.

“Ya. He was um, wicked tall. Told tha best stories, but like ya neva knew how much truth there was t’ ‘em. He made tha best grilled cheese, an’ somehow always with bread he made himself. He had this laugh that I loved. It surrounded a room when ya heard it. He always smelled o’ peppermint gum. He was always whistlin’, or singin’ Sinatra songs t’ himself. He made tha best popcorn on tha stovetop, an’ e’ry time I was ova. He taught me so much an’ turned me onto so many things that I love. He’s so much of who I am, an’ I dunno how t’ let him go now.” The memories turn into words, coming easier the further I go. A warmth accompanies them as they pass through. But they’re hard to get out, as the bittersweetness drowns them in my mouth.

“You don’t have to let him go, Harry,” she disagrees.

“B-but he’s dead,” I cry, feeling my body relinquish control to the sobs.

“But that doesn’t mean that you have to forget him like that. He’s still your granddad. You can still enjoy those memories of him. You can be happy he’s not in pain anymore without feeling guilty. You can still hold him in your heart. You can be mad at the world. You can be broken. There’s no right or wrong answer, Harry. It doesn’t feel that way, I know, but however you feel in the moment is okay. It’s okay to feel that way.” her words feel like a warm blanket coming over me after a bad day. They wrap me up in their syllables and hold me together, while I can’t.

I can hardly get out the words ‘thank you’ without my intermittent sobs covering them up.

“Of course,” is all she says. In her voice sweet as clover honey.

Radio silence follows her requital with my occasional whimpers punctuating my tears. This continues for a few minutes, but it’s not awkward. I feel comfort just from knowing that she’s there. But a thought edges its way in, ruining that contentment.

The ticking of the clock peaks my interest suddenly. More time has passed than I thought it had. “I uh should prolly get goin’ soon if I wanna make it on time, so me family doesn’t have a row,” I suddenly say.

“Yeah yeah, of course. Um, drive safe and, I hope everything goes well. You can text me if you want. I’m just, at work,” Becky replies fast, her words stalling at parts. I hear the nerves wired in her buttery voice.

“Thanks, love. I’ll rememba. But uh get back t’ work, kay?” I quip, feeling memories between us seep into my words.

“Yes, sir,” she replies, following along. I welcome it with the smallest of laughs.

“Good,” I exhale, unsure of how to end the call. And unsure if I even want to. Because this was nice, albeit the circumstances marked by hundreds of tears. It was nice to hear her voice, although I know I’ll miss it in a minute. That thought begins a new ache inside of my chest. “I’ll let ya go then. Have a good weekend, an’ take care, Becks.”

“You too, Harry. Thanks for calling,” she says, and I hear it in her voice. The shared uncertainty and nervousness. The awkwardness often there at the end of a phone call.

“And thanks fer pickin’ up, Becks.”

“Bye, Harry,” she almost whispers.

It takes every ounce of strength I have residing in me to echo her words, “G’bye, Becks.”

With every second that passes absent of her voice, the thought grows louder. It’s no longer ignorable. But I don’t let it take hold of me as I’m watching myself in the mirror. Wrapping the tie around my neck, and going through the motions. Tightening it around my neck as the tears begin to dry on my face. Then as I compose a text with forgotten words.

i hope ur dad is doing better. thx for being there becks xxx

The timer on my phone begins to buzz as I shut off the entryway light. Sitting on the steps once more with my shoes in hand, I acknowledge it. The thought that’s been tinkering away in my brain. Gaining speed.

It wasn’t enough talking to her on the phone. I wanted her here with me, again. I wanted to hide in her arms. Her scent of oranges and cloves blanketing me. Her words falling over me like snow, but without a phone separating us. I want her here with me.

I feel my heart lurch deep down as I grab hold of the door handle. The unspoken words settle with me as I attempt to find the strength to leave. Somewhere I find it, buried in the words she spoke into me mere moments ago.

Because that’s all I have, even if I don’t really have her.

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jenni42085 · 4 years

Text

Made in the AM <Two>

Ch. Two

Alex's POV

The rest of my day consisted of packing, making sure all my bills were paid up to date, and getting more coverage for my cellphone. I didn't have any idea of how long I'd be gone for but I packed enough clothing for atleast three weeks, hopefully that will be enough. Plus having two big suitcase with plenty of room for if I have any souvenirs.

"So where are you going first?" Tori asks while helping me straighten up my room. Figured since I might be gone a few weeks no need to come home to a dirty place.

"The itinerary says I'll start off in Singapore for a few days, and from there no idea really, I guess they figure if I finish quickly enough no need to fill me in. I hope to get a bunch of great pictures and souvenirs though in my down time. Are you sure you can't beg them to come with? I don't want to do this alone." I ask sitting down next to her resting my head on her shoulder.

"Lex, you are going to be fine. I'm sure they will absolutely adore you. Let's have our last lunch before you leave."

"T, what am I going to do without you there?" I ask getting my shoes on and lingering at the floor.

"You are going to shine bright like I know you can."

MANY HOURS LATER

"Alexandria, we're in Singapore." Paul nudges me awake.

I wipe the sleep from my eyes and look out the window. "What time it is? "

"Umm almost 8 am." Paul says as he hands my laptop bag from the overhead compartment. "We are heading to the hotel then possibly out to eat. The guys will probably be asleep until noon if not later."

"Ok, that's great because I'd like to sleep in an actual bed instead of on the plane. When will I meet them?" I ask because I'm not mentally ready yet. Most of the 15 hour flight was spent listening to their albums trying to figure out what kind of style they lean to. Mainly it is a lot of pop but some songs show a different kind of range in music, maybe I can use it towards my advantage. I didn't actually close my eyes until the last two hours of the flight.

"If you are up for it, you can meet them tonight before their show. If not tomorrow, I know jet lag is a pain."

"Understatement, I'll try to be up and ready to meet the guys tonight. I'm just exhausted."

"I understand, if you can't meet them today it is ok. No stress. " Paul replied leading to the black SUV.

We rode silently to the hotel, I was taking in the sounds, smells, and scenery of Singapore. This city is so large, I can't wait to explore but right now I can't wait to get to my room. Paul informed me that they had blocked off the entire penthouse so I wouldn't have to worry about anyone really bothering me.

I open the door to a large suite; most of the room was a crisp white color which was refreshing. There was a king size bed that has big plush white comforter on it. After my bags were in my room I stripped out of my clothes and step into the oversized bathroom. Seeing as I was too tired to soak in the tub, I opt for a shower because I don't think I could stay awake much longer. I dry off then apply some Love Spell body butter then put on a cami and some boy shorts then crawl into bed. Slowly, I close my eyes and drift off into dreamland.

BAM BAM BAM. What was that? I shoot up in bed with my heart racing. Seriously? I thought this was going to be a peaceful time of just exploring more emotions and writing but apparently not. These boys are already way to loud. I grabbed my headphones and turn up some peaceful ocean waves then try to drift back to sleep.

I wake up to my once bright room to be dark but illuminated by the lights of outside. The city looks kind of like a Christmas wonderland with all the lights going on. I take out my camera and take a few shots of the beauty because it is absolutely breathtaking. I stretch once again and look at the clock. Paul had said that they try to leave for the arena by 8, that means I have less than forty-five minutes to get dressed.

Thankfully I'm not high maintenance it only takes fifteen minutes to get ready. I throw on my Old Navy skinny jeans with a plain white tee and my light weight gray hoodie. Part of me was afraid to wear flip flops in a high traffic place where someone might crush my toes so I fall back to my usual cotton candy colored Converse. Pretty sure that isn't the name of the color but I call them that since they are pastel purple, pink, and teal with a clear coat of glitter to make them sparkle.

Checking myself in the mirror I look more of a stage crew member then a song writer but meh. I'm comfortable and it looks semi cute. I throw my braids into a messy bun. So happy that my nap made me alert enough to not need any makeup, just some watermelon flavored Chapstick. I grab my mini Fossil cross body then pack the usual necessary items Chapstick, mirror, wallet, notepad, pen, room key, and cell phone then head out.

As I walk into the hallway I'm greeted by one of the security guards who looks rather intimidating. I give a small wave but he doesn't return it. "Miss Morris, this way to the van." I follow him down the hallway then midway I hear a door opening out comes Paul looking slightly stressed but upbeat.

"Glad to see you made it to our first concert after the break. They will be the best and most energetic. You can ride with us over there." I nod my head at him. " They should all be meeting us here in a moment and I'll introduce you."

I flash him a smile and reply "Great, can't wait." But mentally I can wait, this is seriously making my blood pressure jump a few points. This isn't what I need but yet here I am feeling hot and a little dizzy.

A loud noise approaching me knocks me out of my thoughts. What the fresh hell is going on? I turn around to be greeted with a herd of bodies. "Guys!! Seriously we don't need to get kicked out for all the noise." I stare back at the group of guys with wide eyes.

"Who's this? Your new assistant?" The blonde asks.

"No Niall, this is your songwriter. Her name is Alexandria. She is here to help you guys along. She is going to watch you guys tonight and probably travel with us for a few weeks. Be nice."

I have four sets of eyes shift in my direction suddenly I feel even more self conscious and kind of naked, I let a small " Hello" out with a wave.

"Hello Alexandria. I'm Niall." He offers his hand to me and I graciously shake it. He releases my hand then points out the rest of the guys, "That is Louis, Liam, and Harry."

Louis and Liam both give me a firm handshake while Harry barely acknowledges my presence. What crawled up his ass? Maybe he is still tired from traveling all day. Who knows, but it was kind of rude. I guess my facial expression showed some disgust with his hand shake because Liam shot him a look. "Don't pay grumpy much mind, he didn't sleep to well on the drive here."

With that response I force my face into a half smile and nod. "No worries. And you can call me Alex."

"Well Alex, are you ready to see how we rock it out?" Niall asks excitedly. Again I nod feeling very shy and unsure of what I have signed up for. We pile into the van and head towards the arena. I wish I had brought that water I had just opened with me because my blood pressure is trying to get the best of me.

*****************************************************************************************************

Harry's POV

So this is our songwriter? She doesn't look like anything special. I was honestly hoping for someone a little fitter than that but I guess if you only write and never perform what would you expect. Right? This was not what I was expecting when Paul said Simon had sent us something that we needed. She seems nice enough just really quiet and very shy. It does beg the question as to how she was able to write music about love, life, and everything in between it doesn't seem like she even leaves the house often.

Niall and Liam are always the first to make friends with people. They have her seated in between them chatting it up like old friends."So what album were you working on last?" Louis asks as I shoot him a dirt look that he ignores.

"Umm, I... I have been working with Tori Kelly mainly." She finally managed to get out.

"Really!!?" Niall exclaims excitedly. "Her voice is powerful! Nobody Love is an epic song I bet the rest of her album will be amazing. How did you meet her?"

"High school."

"High school" the three of them repeat her as in a slight shock.

"Yeah, we have been best friends since freshman year."

Without even thinking I state, "So you are like riding off of her talent, yeah?" After the words left my mouth I knew I went to far. "Umm I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that"

But it was too late the damage was done. The van fell silent. I turned around to get a look at her, her face was illuminated by her cell phone and her face was solemn with tears in her eyes. "No, I got here on my own merit. I work hard I just don't sing. Simon picked me for my skills." She calmly states in a flat tone.

I hear Liam whisper something to her. My intention wasn't to make her tear up like that. Louis smacks me in the back of the head. "Smooth move mate! You are going to have her crying and not for the right reasons."

"Fuck! I wasn't trying to be mean. I was just wondering how she got here." I say as we get out of the van. Niall helps her out of the van and puts an arm around her shoulder.

As I bring up the rear Paul stops me, "Look, I know you aren't thrilled about this but give her a break she didn't even want to come because her nerves are so bad. She has maybe said twenty words to me on the flight. Simon wants her here because he thinks this is what you guys need so....."

I cut him off already knowing what he is going to say. "So don't fuck this up." I sigh as I enter the dressing room. The guys are shooting me looks as if I don't already know I've messed up, I don't want to be in the doghouse much longer so I decide to formally apologize. But as I'm about to do so I don't see her anywhere. "Where did Alexandria go?"

"No idea. She kind wandered off once we got inside." Liam says with a slight worried expression.

*****************************************************************************************************

Alex's POV

<sigh> This is exactly what I didn't want to happen. I just wanted to stay on comfort zone. I can feel my mood shifting to depression so I do one of the few things that calm me when I'm depressed.

"Hello?"

"Hey T. I know it is late. I just need to talk."

"Alex, what happened?" She asks groggily. I give her a run down of what has happened and she takes a breath "He is a man who obviously can't deal with the fact that you are so special and talented. If everyone else is being nice to you don't let one prick try to drag you down."

I let her words penetrate my heart and think on things. <sigh> "Ok I'm going to show them all how talented I am. Thanks T. I don't know what I'd do with out you."

"No problem. Night."

"Night." I hang up the phone and pull out my headphones. I need some real music to clear my head. I felt kind of old school so I played some Maroon 5 Songs About Jane. Listening to this album always calms my nerves.

Listening to Adam Levine's voice gives me a pretty wicked beat, then I start thinking over the conversation with T, 'Don't let anyone drag you down'. I made notes on my phone and my fingers start flying as I'm typing out lyrics. Apparently, I was so in the zone that I didn't notice anyone come up to me. I feel a hand touch my shoulder and it makes me jump out of my skin. "What?"

It was Harry looking pretty hot minus his shitty attitude. He looked at me with big green eyes that I could see why the women love him. "Ummm, I'm sorry for earlier I haven't really been myself lately. I didn't mean to say that. Can you please...."

"Please what? Just don't worry about it. You already don't like me for whatever reason so, lets just steer clear of each other and everything will be ok. Alright?" I reply without shedding a tear or batting an eye. The look on his face was of shock. He stood there a moment about to open his mouth. "Just go back and get ready. I have songs to write." With those few words I leave him standing there speechless and speed walk to the nearest ladies room so I can get a few more moments of peace of quiet because my mind is racing with song lyrics. Maybe proving people wrong will fuel the fire that I need. <sigh> I wonder if they have a spare guitar for me to use......

*****************************************************************************************************

Harry's POV

I can't bloody believe she dismissed me like I was nothing! I was trying to give her a heart felt apology and cover my ass at the same time. Not going to lie, I hate that I did say that out loud to her because I really know nothing about her, plus she is only here to help. Walking back to my dressing room I start warming up my vocals. But this just adds to the stress I'm already feeling. I'll find a way to make it up to her, but after the show. I need my head in the game.

"Did you find her?" Liam asks, he is always playing Daddy Direction.

"I did."

"And?" He stops lifting weights long enough to look at me. I swear that is his new favorite pass time.

"Well I tried...."

"You tried?!! Harry. Seriously?" he rolls his eyes.

"She didn't want to hear it. She just shut me down and sprinted away."

"Well bull lox, you have to make it right. Soon." Liam replies as he walks away from me. "Next time think before you speak. She is a nice girl."

*****************************************************************************************************

Alex's POV

The news of me being new to the whole concert spread pretty quickly because when I asked for a spare acoustic guitar it took them no time to let me borrow one I guess they know their job kind of depend on me to write music. I sit on the counter in the ladies room and start getting a melody in my head. There was a knock on the door.

"Yes?" I ask.

It was a male's voice but not really sure who's. "Alexandria?"

"You can just call me Alex. And can I help you?" I reply shyly.

"Can I come in?"

"Umm, I guess so. Who is it?"

"Niall."

"Sure come in." The adorable blonde hair, blue eyed, guy comes into the bathroom which was probably the size of my bedroom back home. He looks at the fact I'm sitting on the counter with headphones on, guitar out, and my notepad writing stuff down. Still unsure of my mood he stands in front of the sink, glancing in the mirror then back at the mess I have on the counter.

"You ok?" I look at him and pull my ear plugs fully out, I can tell he is sincerely asking about my well being.

"Well, when I finish this song I might be ok. I'm just in the zone and need this out of my system. Why?"

He flashes me a quick smile. "You are already writing? I thought we were supposed to be doing it together."

"Yes, you are but right now I'm in the zone and can't afford to lose this."

"Aye! Can I hear what you have so far?"

That question really throws me off guard, I know that eventually they will have to see my work first hand. I look at him moment thinking over if I really want to do this. "OK," I slowly start to drum the cords out on the guitar,

"I've got fire for a heart

I'm not scared of the dark

You've never seen it look so easy

I got a river for a soul

And baby you're a boat

Baby you're my only reason."

I stop and look at him then continue, "I'm not sure what would be the other part of the verse but I have the chorus

All my life

You stood by me

When no one else was ever behind me

All these lights

They can't blind me

With your love, nobody can drag me down"

I finish playing and give him a look indicating that I needed his opinion.

"I like it. Did you just come up with it?"

"Yes. Was feeling down about the car ride and I had to call my bestie, then I listened to Maroon 5 and now I'm feeling a little better. I can't let anyone drag me down. Even your bandmate."

Niall starts packing my stuff up for me. I cock my head to the side. "I know Harry can be a pain, but he is the baby of the group so I just don't think he realizes how much of a jack ass he can be at times. And I'm only packing your stuff up so you can watch the show." He pulls me off the counter and pulls me in for brief hug. "It will get better I promise."

"If you say so." I mumble into his chest.

"I do. Come and watch us. Please." He does a puppy dog face which causes me to smile.

"You are a lady killer I swear. You look innocent then you pull that. Don't think it will work all the time on me." I say with a a smirk. He gives me a quick wink.

"I know it won't always work but I'm going to milk it until it no longer does." He puts an arm around me and lead me back to their dressing room. With Niall looking out for me maybe this trip won't be so bad. I'm ready to see what these boys have to offer.

#one direction #harry styles #harry styles x black reader

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diningpageantry · 5 years

Text

Nemesis

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979847

Word Count: 2040

Summary: Simon and Baz work at opposing coffee shops with a little more than your typical rivalry against each other. (POV Simon)

Carry On Countdown 2018 Day 19: Coffee Shop AU

“Oh will you stop teasing each other? Fucking hell.” The toothbrush nearly falls from my hand, head spinning to look at Penny leaning against the doorframe. Part of me resists claiming that I’m not ‘teasing’ him; I’d just told her through a frothy mouthful that I’d written his name as ‘Bass’ again today, and now she has the bollocks to tell me that we’re flirting?

“We’re not flirting, Penn,” I mumble, taking the brush out for a moment before jabbing it back into my mouth and scrubbing. I’m looking in the mirror when she responds, only seeing the back of her head, but by her gesture I can tell she’s got some sort of feeling here.

She snorts, raising her hands in the air. “You said flirting, not me.”

I roll my eyes, scrubbing my mouth for a solid 15 more seconds before spitting out a mouthful of soft green foam and rinsing my mouth, turning to Penny and pointing a finger at her. “We are not flirting. He’s practically my nemesis; why the hell would I flirt with my nemesis?”

A loud snort comes from her throat. “I think nemesis is a tad of an over exaggeration. You work at opposing shops, it isn’t like he killed your first born.”

Twisting the cap off the mouthwash, I roll my eyes and let out a “not yet” under my breath. That deserves me a solid pinch on the arm.

And like that, she disappears into her room and leaves me here to sulk, staring into my eyes through the bathroom mirror, cheeks full of burning rinse. I gargle, then spit, eyes locked down on the drain as I flick the water back on and brush it over my lips, then splash it in a wave over my face. Once, twice, then grab a towel and pat myself dry.

I don’t know why I agreed to go to this party knowing that he’ll be there.

All six feet (and maybe a few odd inches), perfect hair, flawless cheekbones and eyebrows and bloody fucking eyes and pretty much the rest of his god awful face of him.

All his fucking sharp dressing, condescending, “I’m-Better-Than-You-Because-I-Shop-Local”, leather wearing, sports car driving, posh accent-having of him.

Basilton fucking Pitch is gonna waltz right up to the party, probably his fucking henchmen at his sides because that’s what they are; he’s practically a supervillain. If you caught Basilton Pitch in a dark room with a spotlight in a turned around armchair, I can nearly guarantee that it’d spin around with him stroking a white, longhaired cat and you’d be like “Well fuck, this is where he belongs”. Even the name sounds like he’s got a master plan to destroy you (or maybe just steal your fucking customers by guiltripping them into thinking that by going chain for anything is killing local businesses). I need tips, too, and not all of us have rich fathers at home who can pay for what benefits cover instead of shitty corporate options.

Standing in front of my mirror, I scan over my sad excuse for a party outfit. I feel like a fucking fool whenever I’m next to him. It’s probably because he wears ridiculous button downs that don’t even have breast pockets somehow while I stand next to him in a 1970s nike tee that I found in a thrift shop dollar bin.

I grab a hoodie as I step out of the bathroom, throwing it on while patting around for my wallet and phone.

It feels like Penny’s practically dragging me there. Honestly, I have no idea whose party this is; shit, all I know is that Baz is gonna be there. Even when I asked Penn, she was vague about every part of it. “Oh, the host’s someone I met in a baseline Business Writing course.” When I’d asked what the hell ‘business writing’ even entails, I ended up bored and tuned her out after hearing ‘grant writing’ and ‘sponsorship proposals’.

You’d think that a student who takes ‘Business Writing’ wouldn’t be so popular, but here we are, a crowded one bedroom, one bath flat ten minutes from campus filled with the reek of spilt beer and hot from people’s continuous breathing.

It takes me nearly five minutes to actually get to the alcohol, and once I get there, I just grab a beer and start chugging.

Add a few shots, maybe one more beer, then definitely another shot or two and I’m completely smashed, eating half a pizza slice in one bite as I sway to the music blasting on the speaker by my ankle. I think it’s Whitney Houston, or Kesha. I can’t remember.

And there he fucking is, across the room with his head leaned back against the wall all coolly. His hair’s knotted up in some bun, and his eyes are shut. You’d probably mistake him as sleeping upright, somehow in full fucking control of his body (honestly, wouldn’t put it past him), but instead he’s got a slight nodding to the music going. He’s got a drink in hand, mostly finished.

I don’t realize my feet have been taking me to him until I’m staring close enough that I can count the eyebrows on his forehead, then he snaps his eyes open to me. Immediately, his lips pull down into a snarl and his gaze narrows in on me. “Snow.”

My jaw hangs open as I squint at him and slur a “Basilton”, trying not to lean forward and topple myself over. My feet steady on the floor, a little too far apart for a normal pose, but I guess I could be preparing for a physical brawl.

He sticks his nose up at me, slowly raising his cup to his lips and sipping with unfair grace. As he pulls away, his lip’s shiny and dripping a tad. Clearly he's fucking pissed and didn’t catch the last drop . My first thought is to lick it up, but then I trickly try to snap away from it.

I want to ask myself why I'd want to lick that up, but that’s a loaded question and I don't think I can even think in “real” sentences right now.

“Who invited you?” I half taunt, raising my eyebrows to him. I’m trying to be intimidating, but it’s failing miserably. In return, he’s just making a deeply offended face and retorts back.

“It’s an open party; I had a class with Megan. And Dev fancies her.” His head tilts slowly to the side as he talks, eyes resting boldly on mine. He rarely seems to break eye contact, making me squirm under his intense gaze.

I snort, raising my eyebrows to him in a very Baz-manner to mock him. “Good thing you’ve got classes; can’t stay making shit lattes all your days.”

He just laughs back; shortly, all in my face (granted, we’re practically in breathing room). “At least I have a future beyond barista tips, Snow.”

“Funny, you talk all up about your fuckin… free… range… beans… then look at you, eh? Economics major, dickwad.”

“I’m no fucking capitalist,” he spits, sneering down at me. I think I’ve leaned closer, because I can see the close details of the recently shaved smoothness of his chin. “You work low wages for a large company without good benefits, you’re fucking bold.”

“I’ve got benefits! Loads!” I call out, waving my arms to the side. My beer sloshes in my hand, spilling a bit onto the carpet. I disregard it, feet stumbling forward. “I’ve got plenty of customers too, since they can read our fucking menu.”

He gasps this time. Genuinely, outright gasps in the meanest way I’ve ever heard anybody fucking gasp, staring at me and looking borderline hurt. “My cursive is exquisite, you uncultured heathen.”

I smile with my entire face, wrinkling my nose up at him. “I don’t scare away my customers though, mister big fuckin cranium! And see! I can speak in big fucking words, arsehole.”

Now he looks more confused than anything, squinting at me as his jaw hangs open and eyebrows knit together. He blinks, squinting further. “You… are quite possibly one of the most pea-brained people I’ve ever encountered,” he laughs square into my face. I think our noses are touching. “Do you think about the words as they leave your mouth? It’d be a goddamn miracle if they even went through any critical thinking process!”

“I’m fucking loveable,” I hit back, head swaying a bit as I talk (or maybe just tilting? Leaning? What the fuck is happening?) “Everyone thinks I’m a ball of fucking love, bitch.”

“You’re more than insufferable, that’s what you are,” he breathes into me.

Then, what feels like out of nowhere (or perhaps it isn't), I’m pushing him against the wall. His mouth’s against mine, and he tastes like the poorly mixed drinks he’s probably been downing all night. Vodka, spiced rum, sugary juices and lemon lime fizzy. I don’t think the taste matters much, though. I don’t think anything really matters much, frankly, because he’s currently spilling the rest of his drink down my back as he wraps his arms around my neck and hauls me closer. I couldn’t care less. I’m on my tiptoes, snogging the life out of him in the middle of this party (I want to take him home and see how he's look below me). He’s leaning down, kissing me back like I’m worth all the air in his lungs (seriously, I need him in my bed now.)

Seems like he’s got the same thought on his mind because the hand on my back keeps tugging my tee, taking fistfuls and just holding me towards him, not letting me go (I might not fully know what I’m doing, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a mistake).

It isn’t until Penny finds us, tugging my shoulder away from Baz and starting to pull me back from him. He lets out a whine, eyes wide as I’m dragged off and Penny shoves herself between us. “You are trashed,” she accuses, poking a finger at my chest before swivelling to Baz. “You are trashed too.” She glances between us then huffs. “Give me your phone.”

“Fuck you, Bunce, I was in the middle of something” Baz mumbles, dragging his phone out and slapping into her palm. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody with the balls to say that to her. Fuck it, I was that something was in the middle of, but she just looks like she has some sort of feeling (I don’t really know, she’s complicated and usually she says a lot of words that I don’t entirely get and the musics really loud and god I need to pee). While I'm struggling to figure out the situation with my lips not attached to Baz's, Penn types something into the phone and shoves it back into his hands.

“Dial his number in the morning. If you dare fucking ghost him, I'll show up to your flat with a knife and I'll make a handbag out of your skin,” she says flatly, grabbing me by my wrist and dragging me out as I’m complaining loudly. She doesn’t stop dragging me until we’re back to the flat.

After probably the best piss of my life, I find her waiting in the hall with her arms crossed, looking awfully pleased with herself.

I groan, rubbing my face as I practically stagger in place, giggling to the spinning motion of the room. “I wasn’t making a mistake, Penn,” I mumble, rubbing my face as my shoulder leans against the wall (it’s an awfully tight hallway).

“I know, Si,” she says, tutting as she opens my bedroom door for me. “Just get some sleep; you’re going to have to actually use your brain tomorrow and figure wherever the fuck that was..”

“I was snogging,” I mumble. “That's all.”

“With Baz?”

I shrug, smiling at the memory of his lips against mine. Penn just scoffs behind (beside?) me.

“You're gonna have to talk to him, Si.”

I groan again, this time much louder, hitting the pillow and nuzzling into it immediately. “Mmmm I hate that.”

“I know, I know. Goodnight, Simon.”

“Mmmhmm nighty nighttime, Penny.”

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years

Text

Straight Boy

Part 2: together

Rating: M

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 10365

Chapters: 2/4 [All chapters]

Read on AO3

AN: Oooooh this chapter is fuuuuun :) I loved writing all this fic but especially this chapter. Also, forgot to mention it last chapter, but yes "Baz in glasses" is BACK baby!!! I love this HC and I will keep putting it in fics until I die. Well, enjoy this chapter :D

Tagging: @jeansjeansjeansjeans

———————————————-

I have to do a double take of the building. I check the address Baz text sent me, and it’s right. This fancy ass mostly glass white condo is definitely the right place. Well, Baz said his family was rich, maybe they bought him a whole condo for uni? Yeah...

I walk and type in the buzzer code Baz gave me. It rings low and loud, until a very pissed off voice comes on. And it’s definitely not Baz.

“What?!” The posh woman barks out. I instinctively step away.

“Uh, I’m here to see Baz?” I say with extreme caution. “I’m Simon, by the way.”

“Oh, right, Basilton said you were coming.”

Basilton? What? Okay, not important right now. There’s an obnoxiously loud buzz and the door unlocks. I rush in and go towards the elevator. It’s all cold grey fancy steel. I feel very intimidating as I go up to the twenty fifth floor. Luckily, Baz’s flat is just to the right, so I don’t get lost. (Penny says I get lost turning left.) I knock on the door lightly. A few heavy steps come towards me, then the door swings open, making me take a step back.

This woman is definitely not Baz, but I’m pretty damn sure they’re related. Same skin tone, same grey eyes, same black hair. Though she has a thick white blonde streak at the front. I can’t tell if it’s dyed or natural. She’s wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans with old Doc Martens. She looks like she just came out from a seventies punk bar, and she was the headline act.

“Uh, hello,” I say very cautiously. “I’m Simon.”

“So, you’re Simon,” she replies with a weird suspicion. “You’re shorter than I thought you would be.”

“Um, sorry?”

“Fiona!” I hear Baz shout from behind her. He appears suddenly, glasses on top of his head, hair falling in a lazy wave over his angry face. He's dressed in a loose white shirts and blue jeans we picked out at W Wood. Wait, are jeans his lazy clothes? Huh, odd. He looks good, so whatever.

“Stop picking on Simon,” he growls at the women, apparently called Fiona, glaring viciously. Fiona glares right back.

“I wasn’t picking on him,” she says with bite.

Baz rolls his eyes dramatically. “Of course you weren’t.” He finally looks at me and immediately grins. “Hi, Snow, glad you could make it. This is my Aunt Fiona. Please ignore her. She’s over protective, like an old pit bull.”

Fiona scoffs loudly and smacks his arm. “I am not old, you wanker! I’m only thirty eight!”

“Not the important thing here. Now, Fiona, don’t you have somewhere to be?” He raises one eyebrow impossibly high. Fiona glares even harder.

“This is my apartment, y’know.”

“Our apartment now. And you’re going to Nicky’s. Seriously, why don’t you two just get a flat together and give me the place to myself 24/7?”

Fiona rolls her eyes. Wow, I can see where Baz gets it from. “Please, we’re too new for that.”

“You’ve known each other since high school.”

“But only been dating for a few months. We’re still in the sexy honeymoon phase, Basil,” she says with a wink. My cheeks heat up, Baz is obviously unimpressed, and Fiona looks very smug. I feel like I’m intruding on a much larger conversation.

“Fiona,” Baz sighs, “please, just go see your boyfriend. Come back tomorrow.”

She sighs over dramatically. “Fine. Leave my kitchen and living room in working order by the time I come back, please.”

Baz sighs in the exact same way. “Yes, of course, now go!”

Fiona walks past me, patting my shoulder as she goes. “Nice meeting you, Simon. Have fun.” Her nails dig into my skin for a brief moment. Not enough to really hurt but enough to sting. I don’t think she likes me that much...

Baz physically pushes Fiona out the door. She flips him off. He groans and gestures me inside. “Sorry about that. Come in, come in. I’ve almost got supper ready.”

I follow in after him, unzipping my hoodie, since this fancy place is certainly well heated. “It’s fine, man. I didn’t know you lived with your Aunt.”

“Yeah, sorry, never came up. She lives close to campus so it was easier to just take her extra room instead of trying to find another place. And I think my parents want her to spy on me for them.”

I chuckle as I kick off my trainers. “And how is that working out? She didn’t strike me as someone who would tattle to your parents.”

Baz’s lip pulls up into a smirk. “Well, she likes to be a shit and pretend she’ll tell them about my activities. But at the same time, she let me smoke half her joint last night while we watched Monty Python and ate peanut butter from the jar.”

“Oh my god,” I giggle. “That sounds amazing!’

“It certainly was. Now come on, I’m starved.”

We walk down the short hall into the actual apartment. I have to stop myself from gasping. The whole place is kinda intimidating but cool. It’s like what you see in catalogues. All white walls, modern furniture, and large bay windows with a view of the steel and brick horizon. Though there’s also enough personality to it to show that two people live here. There's lots of photos on the walls of Baz and Fiona and people who look enough like them to be relatives. Some old books are spread out on the coffee table, with lots of sticky notes on the pages in Baz's wispy handwriting. And next to the volumes are rolling papers I can safely assume are Fiona’s. Looks like a fun place to live.

“Just nearly burned supper, goodness,” Baz chuckles.

I follow his voice into the kitchen. It’s all white with fancy high tech chrome appliances. Baz is bending over the oven, making the denim stretch across his arse. I blush and avoid looking. The memory of...that part of his anatomy is still burned into my brain. It never goes away, just fades and pops back up at literally the worst possible moments. Like late at night, persuading my hand to “accidentally” slip into my pants. Or right now, when I really can’t let my hand go anywhere to relieve the heat he makes in my stomach. Fuck, my head hurts.

“Perfect,” Baz says cheerily. “Cooked all the way through.” He pulls out a pan with two herb covered chicken breasts and oily asparagus stalks. He opens the pot on top of the stove. It’s filled with absolutely divine tomato sauce. My eyes get very wide.

“Wow,” I gasp. “When you said you were making supper, I thought you meant boxed pasta or some shit.”

Baz smiles smugly. “I’m classier than that, Salisbury.”

His smirk makes my stomach even hotter. I shrug. “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“Damn right. Now go sit down, I’ll bring the plates out in a second.”

He gestures to the large glass dining table near the window. There’s two rich crimson placemats across from each other, twin wine glasses already filled. The lights are low, matching the setting sun. Everything is soft orange, red, and violet. It’s really nice. This is the fanciest supper set up I've ever seen. And Baz did it for me. He's so nice. My knees wobble a bit as I take my chair. Baz soon comes out with two full plates.

“Dinner is served,” he announces grandly, placing the food in front of me. It’s chicken, asparagus, and some unfamiliar rice dish. It’s got lentils, fried onions, chickpeas, macaroni noodles, and that amazing tomato sauce all on top. My mouth immediately starts watering.

“Thank you,” I reply as he sits down. I wait for him to unfold his napkin and everything to be polite. Mum taught me that. But it’s hard. I really want to eat.

Baz gives me an amused look. “Dig in, Snow, I can see you salivating all the way from over here.”

I roll my eyes, but still grab my utensils. “Shut up.” I put a large forkful of rice in my mouth, and it’s a flavour explosion. My tastebuds are singing with joy. I’ve never had something this good. I start shovelling huge bites in, making Baz snort with laughter.

“You like it?” he asks with amusement.

“Uh, fuck yeah! What is this, ambrosia?”

Baz chuckles and shakes his head, “No, just some good spices. That’s called koshari. It’s a very famous dish in Egypt. I’m half Egyptian, so I wanted to try to make it. Connect to my heritage and all.”

I try to smile, but my mouth is partially filled with koshari, so it’s difficult. “That’s awesome. Like, it’s really cool you’ve got that connection to your culture and stuff. Plus it’s just like super delicious.”

He half smiles, lifting his wine glass like a true gentleman, “The chef appreciates your compliments.”

I lift my own and clink our cups together. Like we’re fancy or something. “You’re very welcome.”

We trade easy conversation as we eat. Baz has completely caught up in his classes. Actually, he’s probably ahead. He’s incredibly smart so I’m not surprised. I’m getting better at paying attention in class. Penny gave me a fidget spinner, which I think was supposed to be a joke, but it’s actually helped me channel some of that restless energy. Plus I’m just super interested in our therapy unit. It’s what I study social work for, to help people. Baz calls me exceedingly noble. From his small smile, I assume it’s a compliment.

Once dinner is finished, we put our plates in the sink. I try to start washing but Baz slaps my hand away.

“None of that,” he says resolutely. “I’ll do it later.”

I put my hands in my pockets. I know there’s no point in arguing with him, amazing stubborn bastard. “Alright. What should we do? I don’t really feel like going home yet.”

A strange look crosses over his face. Both nervous and excited maybe? It’s so fleeting I can’t tell before it’s gone. He nods slowly. “Want to watch a movie? I’ve got Fiona’s Netflix account.”

“Yeah sure. Sounds good.”

We walk over to Fiona’s pristine white couch. I flop down while Baz sits properly, ankles crossed, straight back, hands in his lap. Jeez, he can still be so uptight sometimes. He flips down his glasses, probably so he can actually see the TV. Fuck, they really do look good on him. I have to make an effort not to stare.

“What should we watch?” I ask. “Horror? Comedy? Drama?”

Baz shrugs. “Well, I only watch documentaries, which you’d probably find very boring. So I leave the choice up to you, Salisbury.” He hands me the remote like a gentleman offering a bouquet. I take it graciously.

“Oh thank you kind sir,” I say in my poshest accent. Baz rolls his eye and chuckles.

I flip through Netflix for a little while. Well, Baz wasn’t lying about only watching documentaries. All his recently watched are movies about forests and wars and violinists. Bo-ring! I go to the romcom section, because I love stupid tropey shit. Penny calls me a hopeless romantic. I just like that everything works out in the end. Real life isn’t usually like that. It’s nice to pretend. So I pick “Notting Hill”. It’s one my favourites.

“Dear Lord,” Baz mutters part way in, “what is this?”

“It’s a rom com,” I reply.

“So, I’m supposed to believe that a movie star just happens to wander into this guy’s store? And she kisses him impulsively? Seriously?”

I playfully smack his arm. Wow, his hands are rough, his arms are smoother than sea glass. “It’s not supposed to be realistic, it’s supposed to be fun.”

He snorts. “Well, all I can focus on is the plot holes.”

I sigh. My head, heavy from food drowsiness, lolls to my right. It takes me a bit too long to realise it’s fallen on Baz’s shoulder. Shit, didn’t mean to do that. He’s incredibly tense, every muscle pulled tight. I nearly move off, but then he relaxes. His legs uncross, and his hands fall to beside his sides. So, I guess this is okay. And his shoulder, despite it’s boney-ness, is actually really comfy. Yeah. this is cool. I’ll just stay here.

The movie keeps going, but it kind of falls to background noise for me. I know it off by heart anyway. I’m more focused on other things for some reason. Like the feel of Baz’s soft shirt on my cheek. Or that his whole jean covered leg is pressed against mine. Or how close his rough farmer-violist hand is to mine. I’ve only held it a couple times, and only loosely. I do wonder...

Before thinking about it too much, I reach over and grab his hand. Baz inhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t pull away. Our hands rest together. We stay like that for awhile. Watching the movie, just casually holding hands. Normal friend stuff. His skin is still as scratchy as I remember, creating sparks of sensation all over my palm. And his fingers are quite long. Pianist fingers, I think that’s the term. They’re nice. I like his hand. I like holding it.

Eventually, I lift my head up, and my eyes flick over to him. I just want to see if he’s enjoying the movie. Holy shit, he’s looking back. His grey eyes are staring right at me. It almost feels like he’s looking through me they’re so piercing. It makes me shudder involuntarily. His eye move lower, to... Wait is he looking at my-

And then he kisses me.

Holy shit. A guy is kissing me. More importantly, Baz is kissing me. His face is so close to mine, black hair falling around us, glasses pushing against my nose. Baz’s lips are smooth, soft, and kinda cold. Well, not cold, just chilly, like an ocean breeze. It feels nice. His kiss feels nice. Oh my god, I’m musing about a guy kissing me, about how much I like it. What the hell?!

Our mouths are still, just pressed together chastely. Like we're a pair of awkward pre-teends having out first kiss. But really I’m too stunned to move. Then Baz pulls away slightly. His eyes are a bit glassy and his breathing is unsteady. “Is this okay?” he whispers.

That’s a really good fucking question. Am I okay with this? My lips are still tingling, and my pulse is hammering in my ears. Every fibre in my body is screaming at me to get close to him again. I nod. “Yeah,” I reply breathlessly, “yeah, it’s okay.”

Baz smirks, pushing his glasses on top of his head before kissing me again. He’s less hesitant this time, moving his mouth more insistently and curling his long fingers around my nape. I try to match his pace, try to pull him closer too, clutching his shirt in tight fists. I just want him so close. I let out an involuntary moan when his nails prick my skin. The slight sting makes everything go spinny. My mouth falls open, and I moan again as his tongue slowly slides across mine. Holy shit, why does this feel so much better than any kiss I’ve had before? I’ve only snogged a few of people, so it’s not like I’ve got a ton of experience, but I’ve got enough. And this is by far the best snog I’ve ever had.

I don’t even realise I’ve been leaning back until I’m laying down with Baz over me. He’s got one hand in my hair, the other trailing along my side, and a leg between mine. I’m holding his hips, dangerously close to going under his shirt. I really want to feel those muscles I saw in the changeroom, but I don’t want to do anything like that without Baz’s permission. Consent is necessary and all. But suddenly, without even moving off my mouth, Baz grabs my wrist and shoves my hand right under his shirt. Okay, pretty damn sure that’s consent. I trace the ridges and planes of muscle in his back, memorising the how ridiculously good they feel. He groans into my mouth. It makes my whole body shudder. And I full on gasp when he grinds his knee between my legs. My whole brain fucking explodes. Oh man, I am certainly “reacting” very, very strongly right now.

Through all the arousal haze, I wonder if this, what we’re doing, means I’m gay. But I don’t want to kiss Baz because he’s a guy. I want to kiss Baz because he’s Baz. Because he’s nice and funny and watched Doctor Who for me. And sure, he’s also really pretty with his wavy black hair and deep sea eyes. But anyone would notice that. I’ve noticed that other guys are pretty before. I can be straight and observant, right? I don’t know. It’s all too confusing to think about now. I just want to keep holding Baz. I have to do that.

Fuck, how long has he wanted this? How long have I wanted this? I would say I didn’t, but then why are a list of things I want to do to Baz? Like this; I push a hand into his hair. The strands are soft, slipping through my fingers, just like I thought. I clench my fist and shove his face more into mine.

Suddenly, Baz pulls off my mouth.

“Sorry,” I say (I’m out of breath it’s embarrassing.)

“No, no, don’t be sorry. Just,” he takes a breath, “want to continue this somewhere more comfortable?”

I’m panting very hard, but so is he. His face is flushed, eyes half lidded, lips swollen and wet. He looks fucking hot. My whole body is vibrating with energy. I want to pull him down and kiss him until our mouths are sore. And well, this couch is a bit small to stay here for that long. So I nod. “Sure, sounds good.”

Baz grins, showing all his bright white teeth. “Wonderful.”

He climbs off me. His legs are shaky, but when I stand up, mine are too. Baz turns off the telly and takes my hand, leading me down the narrow hall towards a room. Once we enter, it’s very obvious that this is Baz’s room. It’s extremely neat because of course Baz is a clean freak. But the desk is covered in a mess of books and sheet music. His violin case sits in the corner. I wonder if I’ll ever hear him play.

We stop in front of the large bed. His sheets are all black, and they look like silk. Well, that's definitely more comfortable than the couch. Baz turns towards me. His face is lit up by the setting sun, skin glowing perfectly in the fiery light. Wow, he’s somehow even prettier right now. But, is he nervous? He’s chewing on his lip, and the hand I’m not holding keeps flexing. I guess he is. Huh, I haven’t seen him anxious since the W Wood. And right now he’s much worse.

“So,” he says, clearing his throat a bit, “how far do you want to go? We could just keep snogging, that’s fine with me. Or we could do more. Whatever you feel like, I’ll be fine with.”

Fucking hell he’s so considerate. It makes my heart speed up, for some reason. But, what do I want? I want to touch him, to kiss him a lot. For him to kiss me and touch me too. Maybe in places other than my lips. Actually, fuck "maybe", I desperately want that, the need itching under every part of my skin. Even though I've never wanted a guy to do that before. Even though I’m straight. I’m trying not to think too much about those contradictions and focus on how good kissing him felt. I really don’t need a headache at this time.

“I-I’m good for anything.” Wait no, not right. “But not ‘all the way’, though. I don’t think I’m prepared for that, in every sense of the word.”

Baz chuckles, his other hand grabbing mine. “That’s fine, no worries. Neither am I, to be honest. But there’s lots of other stuff we can do.”

I look down at the floor, stomach twisting terribly with nerves. “Um, if I’m being honest, Baz, I, uh, have no clue what to do. I’ve never done this before, with a guy.”

He doesn’t say anything. I expected him to laugh, to tease me at least a bit, but instead I feel his rough pianist finger knock up my chin. His mouth is soft, and his eyes are kind and understanding. Why are my knees so weak? “It’s okay, you don’t have to be nervous. We can try things, but you can absolutely stop me if I you want to, alright?” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, taking a moment to trace my jaw with a single callused fingertip. “I’ll take care of you, Simon.”

Bloody Hell, I’m not sure I have knees anymore now.

We lean forward simultaneously, lips instantly moulding together like we’ve been kissing forever. It feels so fucking good that I barely notice him pushing up my shirt. He pulls away when he reaches my arms. His face asks the silent question, and I nod in reply. He pulls the shirt over my head and tosses it to the side. I push at the hem of his. He happily helps me get it off, whipping it on the floor. My hands instantly go to his bare torso and chest. I try to touch all of it. Stomach, chest, shoulders, everything. I feel every bit of smooth skin and sharp angle, and they’re just as wonderful as I imagined.

“You’re actually perfect,” I murmur.

Baz smirks. He clenches his stomach, showing off his stupid perfect abs. I can’t suppress the squeak that pops out of my mouth.

“Why thank you,” he drawls sarcastically. I scoff, hoping it makes up for my red cheeks. He slowly runs his hand over my bare side the across my stomach. My whole body feels electric. I shiver and sigh. “You’re pretty damn amazing yourself, Snow.”

I attempt to laugh off my embarrassment. “T-Thanks.”

He kisses me softly again, arms winding around my neck. I hold his waist tightly. I nearly pull him over as Baz spins me around and pushes me on the bed. He stands over me, cupping my cheeks as we keep kissing. Soon he breaks away and starts trailing his cool lips slowly down my neck. It feels so good my eyes roll back in my head. I fall back on the mattress, propped up on my elbows, legs still hanging off the edge. He goes further and further. Across my collarbone, down my sternum and stomach, until he reaches just above my trouser waistband. Baz looks up from where he’s kneeling between my legs, eyes so dark I can only see the smallest ring of grey, and places a tentative hand over the button.

“May I?” he asks breathlessly.

I’m gripping the sheet so hard my knuckles are white. I can’t tell if it’s from nervousness or anticipation. Probably both. I know what he means. I know what he wants to do. Part of me is still confused by my own desire, but a louder part is only thinking in sex. In “yes, yes, please, more, do it.” And it’s a lot louder.

“Yeah,” I say, falling fully onto my back, "you can.”

I lay there, staring at the blemish free white ceiling, breathing harshly, just waiting. Everything is quiet. The only sound is the distant honks from far below and my own clamorous heartbeat. Baz doesn’t do anything for awhile and I start to think if I fucked up somehow. Am I too eager? Has he changed his mind? Is this all one big stupid mistake?

But then he pulls my pants down and takes me in his mouth. Then, well, I’m not thinking very much at all anymore.

———————————————-

I roll off Baz and flop next to him on his bed. We’re both panting and sweating and a bit sticky, bare bodies glistening in the city lights. It’s very dark out now. The sun set awhile ago. I manage to twist my still dizzy head to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. Holy shit, we just spent over two hours having sex. My muscles are totally dead, throbbing with blissful exhaustion.

And it hits me, again: I just had sex with Baz, with a guy, and I really, really liked it.

So does this mean I'm gay? But I liked it because it was Baz, not because it was a guy. He was so patient, so attentive, pushing just enough to get me to try new things but never so far that I was uncomfortable. I'm still unbelievably confused, but mostly just really fucking satisfied.

“Wow,” I say, voice raw and scratchy. “That was just, wow.”

Baz tries to chuckle, but his voice isn't much better than mine. “Had fun, Snow?”

“Uh, yeah! That was like the best sex I’ve ever had.” It’s only after the words burst out do I realise how fucking embarrassing that sounds. Baz laughs, of course. I cover my burning face. “I’ll shut up now,” I groan.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed, darling.” Baz peels my hands off, grinning face now hovering over mine. I can feel his foot pressed to my bare calf. He kisses my knuckles lightly. A thousand butterflies take off in my stomach. “It was really good for me too.”

His face is shiny with sweat, wavy hair all tangled because I kept pulling it (not that he complained). The city light dances across his skin perfectly. There’s a lot more butterflies flying now. I cup the back of his head and pull his mouth down to mine. I just want to be closer to him right now. It’s not urgent like before. It’s simply a lazy slide of our tired mouths, a calm way to end the frantic evening.

Baz pulls back slowly. His breath tickles my face. Then he collapses on top of me, face buried in the crook of my neck. I snort out a laugh I can’t help. He’s just too adorable.

“You tired, Basilton?” I tease.

“Shut up,” he grumbles. “And don’t use my full name. Only my family does that.”

“But it’s so funny! Your name is fucking Basilton Grimm-Pitch. You sound like an Edgar Allan Poe character.”

He chuckles against my skin. “Then you’ll love my first name.”

My heart does double time. I look down at him as best I can. “What the hell is your first name?!”

I feel his shit eating grin on my collarbone. “A man is allowed to have a few secrets, Snow.”

Damn, I really want to throttle the smug perfect bastard. He groans as pushes himself off me, slowly rolling onto his back then sitting upright, legs hanging off the edge. He stretches his arms to the sky, showing the grand muscular expanse of his back. (There are a lot of angry red scratches from my nails. Fuck, I was really into it.)

“I don’t know about you,” he yawns, “but I’m completely knackered. I’m brushing my teeth and going to bed.” His head turns halfway, showing just one eye, gaze slightly unsteady. Is he nervous again. “You want to stay? It’s alright if you don’t.”

Honestly, I’m not sure my muscles are strong enough right now to get me home. Even so, I do want to go. So I nod. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

His mouth quirks up. “Good.”

Baz slips on his boxers and hands me mine. He leads me to the washroom. It’s huge and pristine and white of course. Baz gives me a fresh toothbrush, which is really thoughtful, because he’s really thoughtful. The vain bastard keeps hogging the mirror though. Once we’re done with our teeth, we go back to the bedroom and Baz takes out his posh red silk pyjamas. He tries to offer me a pair but I’m fine with an oversized t-shirt that looks totally unworn.

“That thing?” Baz says slightly disgusted. “I got that from the overeager poet’s society back at Oxford.”

Huh, makes sense. It does have a Byron joke on it. I shrug. “Eh, it’s fine. Kinda funny too.”

Baz waves dismissively. “Very well. You can keep it if you want. I’m not going to wear it.”

I pull at the hem. Well, if he’s offering, sure. It’s really comfy. And or some reason, I sort of like the idea of keeping this shirt. Keeping Baz’s clothes...it’s just sorta nice.

I flop down on the silk sheets and immediately sink into the comfy mattress. It’s like a goddamn smooth cloud. I’m already drifting off into dreamland when Baz lays next to me. He pulls the quilt over us. Distantly, I feel his long arm drape across my waist and his body curl around mine. His breath hits the back of my neck, almost immediately evening out in sleep. I instinctively snuggle closer, because he feels good. This whole night has felt good. Maybe I should just focus on that instead of the storm in my brain. Yeah, I’m fine with that.

———————————————-

I’m waiting for Baz at Goat while trying to do my readings. He meets me after class, then we have lunch and talk. We’ve been hanging out a lot more on campus the past three weeks, ever since I slept over. I do that a lot more too, actually. I go to his place at least once a week, usually more. Sometimes we just eat supper, maybe watch a movie, then fall asleep in Baz’s bed. Other times we use the bed for...other things.

I’m still straight though. That's still how I think of my self. I just also like this, whatever it is. It’s a sorta weird but awesome friends with benefits thing. I think. We haven’t really defined it. But whatever. We’re having fun. Who needs labels?

“Hello, love.” Baz’s hand is a comfortable weight on my shoulder. He bends around the back of the chair and kisses me. It’s just a short, sweet greeting kiss. He does this a lot now. I like it. I smile against his mouth.

“Hi,” I reply as he sits down across from me. “How was class?”

Baz stretches out his hand. “Well, my fingers hurt, so very good. How was your’s?”

I lift up my heavy textbook. “Professor Blowhard assigned extra readings again, of course. Does he realise we have lives outside of class?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t care, obviously. Because he's a dickhead.”

“Damn right. I need scones to feel better.”

Baz rolls his eyes. “Of course you do. Ebb already getting our food ready?”

“Ebb’s finished your food.” I jolt slightly. When did Ebb get here? Did she manifest out of thin air? She holds two plates with our usuals. A latte, sour cherry scone, and grilled cheese with tomato and spinach for me. (Baz suggested I try the last one, so Ebb made it, and it’s really good.) And a fancy turkey-pesto panini and pumpkin mocha breve for Baz.

Baz smiles up at her. He’s gotten very friendly with her. “Good day, Ebb. How’s it going?”

Ebb shrugs. “Pretty okay. I sort of want some new dishware but I’m not sure I have the funds for it.”

“Well, Christmas is coming up. Maybe I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ebb laughs and ruffles Baz’s already messy hair. She’s very friendly with him by now. “Aw, you don’t have to do that, Baz. Sweet of you to say though. He’s certainly a keeper, Si.”

She winks at me before sauntering off. I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. I flick my eyes over to Baz. He’s taking a sip from his overly large coffee cup. When he lowers it, there’s whipped cream on the tip of his long nose. I snort and giggle. Baz’s brow furrows.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, actually genuinely concerned. He’s always very concerned about his appearance. It’s funny, and kind of cute.

I reach out and use one finger to swipe the whipped cream off. His nose scrunches like an adorable child. I hold it for him to see.

“You’re making a mess,” I tease, then lick my finger. Baz’s eye go wide, and he might blush. It’s hard to tell sometimes, what with his complexion and being emotional display repulsed British gentry. I’m not sure why though. I just don’t like wasting food.

“Christ, Simon,” he chuckles, shaking his head. His eyes flick up to mine and he smirks. That expression makes my stomach do a lot of funny things. “Like you’re one to talk about messes," he says. "My kitchen is still recovering from your pizza debacle.”

“It turned out to be good frozen pizza though.”

“Yes, at the sacrifice of a clean oven.”

I shrug, reaching my foot out to tap his for emphasis. “I’ll destroy my own next time, alright?”

He goes a step further, tracing the toe of his Oxford on my bare ankle. It makes me jolt, but in a good way. Baz seems to have that effect on me.

“Hm, y’know, I haven’t been to your place yet. Invite me over for oven destroying pizza sometime?” His voice is smooth as butter. It makes my legs feel weak, even though I’m already sitting down. And he’s right, he hasn’t been over yet. It’s not because of anything, his place has always just been easier. That should be corrected.

“Yeah, sure,” I chirp, “I’d like that. Though my flatmate might interrogate you. She still isn’t sure she approves of you.”

Baz shrugs dismissively. “Understood. But I’m sure it’ll be fine. She’ll warm up to me. I’m very likable.”

I scoff. “And full of yourself.”

He pushes his foot until it’s fully under my jean cuff. I yelp in surprise. “Got you to like me, didn’t I?”

Shit, why is my face so flushed? I try to use my book to cover it, but my eyes peek out over the top. Baz is still smirking, still slowly moving his shoe up and down my skin. It’s sort of hard to say no when he’s doing that. Bastard. “That’s true, I suppose,” I say shakily.

“Exactly.” He leans forward on the table, chin cradled in his palm. “Want to come over tonight? Fiona’s at Nicky’s again. Those two need to just move in together already.”

“Yeah, agreed. And I can come over as long as you help me revise for a midterm.”

“Very well,” he sighs dramatically. “If that’s the price I must pay for a good shag.”

And I thought my blush couldn’t get any worse. I use a hand to cover my bright red face. “Baz,” I giggle, “shut up.”

He chuckles and slowly peels my hand away. I’ve found his violin calluses feel weirdly wonderful on my skin. “I’ll help you, love, don’t worry.”

Fuck, he’s always so nice. Just so kind and helpful and fun to be around. He’s like Penny, I guess, but our dynamic doesn’t feel like me and Penny. Not better, just different. My heart and stomach don’t feel twisty around her. And I definitely don’t want to snog Pen silly. Baz is just different. Whatever we have is different. I don’t know what it is, but I like it. And I certainly don’t want to stop.

———————————————-

A week later, Baz is scheduled to come over. I’m trying to salvage my stupid homemade stupid pizza when there’s a knock at the door. I run over still wearing the apron and oven mitts as I open it. Baz is standing on the other side, gym/overnight bag slung over his shoulder. He blinks at me confused, eyes big behind his glasses. (He’s been wearing them more. That's good. He looks amazing, and he needs to see.)

“Hi,” I say breathlessly, kissing him hello by habit.

“Good evening, Snow,” he says. “Nice apron.”

I look down. Right, this is Pen’s “Snog the Chef” apron. Micah sent it to her as a joke. He made the false assumption she cooks enough to need one. Both of us usually cook from a box or order take away. I chuckle.

“Uh, yeah. Still trying to make supper. Come in, come in.”

I race back to the kitchen, leaving Baz in the living room. I can still see him through a small square space in the wall. (The previous tenant had a thing for cutting random holes in the wall.) He scans the room, taking in his surroundings.

“Hm,” he says thoughtfully. “Nice place.”

I laugh loudly so he can hear me. “You don’t have to be nice, y’know. I’m aware it’s gross. I tried to clean a bit.”

“I’m serious, it’s nice. Love all the Polaroid pictures. Is this blonde girl your roommate?”

“Uh, no, that’s Agatha. The other girl, Penelope, she’s my flatmate. We all went to high school together.”

“I see, that’s nice. You all look happy.”

I lean out the weird window hole. Baz is looking at the picture from the summer, when we all went to Agatha’s family beach house. I smile. That was a happy time.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Summer before final year. Can’t tell Agatha was about to break up with me a few weeks later, huh?”

It’s a joke, but I immediately regret it. Baz tenses up. Shit, that’s a serious topic, and I shouldn’t talk about Agatha like that.

“There’s no bad blood though,” I say quickly. “Like, it sucked when we split up but it was for the best in the end. We’re way better as friends. She lives in California now. She skypes me and Pen a lot, tells us all about America and shit. I sent her a British flag for Christmas last year, and she sent me a California one.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I’m babbling, sorry, I’ll stop.”

Baz turns his head. He’s smiling, no anger or disappointment, thank God. “It’s fine, love, don’t worry. She sounds lovely. I’m not jealous. Unless I have a reason to be.”

His raised eyebrows and toothy grin tells me he’s joking. I chuckle. Why would he have a reason to be jealous anyway? I mean, Agatha’s pretty, but so is he. “No, you definitely have no reason. Maybe I’ll introduce you two sometime. You can compare expensive hair products.”

“Hey, you like my hair.”

“Yeah, but I’ve also seen how many bottles you have in your shower. And how many bottles did you bring with you tonight?”

Baz doesn’t answer. I snicker as I pull my pizza out of the oven. Well, it’s not much of a pizza anymore. Sort of a dough, cheese, and sauce liquid mess in a pan. I groan and lean my head on the cupboard over the oven.

“Trouble with supper, love?”

I look up. Baz is leaning in the window hole, arms crossed over the sill and head on his bent elbow. He looks nice like this, relaxed and all. Huh, he really is a lot less uptight than he was two months ago. That’s good, I suppose. I smile weakly.

“I think this pizza is even more of a disaster than the last one. And this time it’s completely inedible.”

He frowns sarcastically. “Aw, what a surprise.”

I take a mitt off and throw it at his stupid smug pretty face. “Fuck off, I tried!”

Baz doesn’t looked fazed by the glove projectile, just holding it as he smiles. “I know, darling, and you did your best. Now, shall I order take away?”

I sigh, shaking off the other mitt so they lay in a messy pile on the counter. “I guess so. But I’m paying for it. I was supposed to make you a nice supper, I should at least pay for the substitute.”

“Well, I certainly have no problem with that.”

I turn off the oven and take off the dumb apron. With heavy steps and hanging head, I go into the living room. Baz immediately reaches out and pulls me against him, hugging me close. I wrap my arms around his firm back, easily sinking into his embrace. He smells nice. Like cedar and bergamot, I think.

“Want to watch a movie?” he whispers, breath tickling my ear.

“Sure,” I mumble into his shoulder. “Do you like Pixar?”

He chuckles. It’s a really nice sound, washing over me like a warm, relaxing wave. “Yeah. Pixar is wonderful.”

We don’t move for a bit though. We just stay there, hugging in the middle of my living room. He’s a good hugger, so I don’t mind. I just close my eyes, breathe in his smell, and let his strong, firm arms hold me.

———————————————-

“Why does Buzz go still?” Baz asks. “He doesn’t think he’s a toy. Why would he pretend to be one when a person walks in?”

“Shhh.” I reach up to blindly hit his stupid smart arse mouth. “You’re ruining the movie.”

“I’m simply pointing out a flaw in the film’s plot.”

“Just shut up and watch, arsehole.”

Baz makes a displeased noise, but does thankfully shut up. Our half eaten take away pizza is still sitting on the coffee table. The sun has mostly set, the light of the telly the main source now. I’m junk food tired so I’ve ended up with my head in Baz’s lap. His legs are comfortable. And I like the way he strokes my hair. I could probably fall asleep like this if I wanted.

“Sorry again about supper,” I mumble into his thigh.

Baz hums softly, winding a finger around one of my curls. “It's fine, love. You made the effort, that's what counts. And I appreciate it.”

I hum, throwing an arm over his knees. “You’re nice.”

Bizarrely, he scoffs at that. “You’re the first person to say that, Snow. Most people say I’m rude and mean.”

“You're not, they're all wrong," I say immediately, almost angry for him.

He pauses for a moment, hand still in my hair. "You really think so?" he asks, voice slightly shaky.

"Yeah, of course. You tease me but you also made me supper and watched Doctor Who. That means a lot. You’re, like, snarky nice. Fuck, does that even make sense?”

Baz runs his thumb over the nape of my neck. “No, I get it. Thank you, darling, you’re incredibly sweet.” He brushes his long fingers against my ear. “Sometimes I wonder how I found you,” he sighs.

I chuckle, sound muffled by his trouser leg. “You ‘found me’ in a boring psych lecture, remember?”

“Yeah,” he whisper-laughs. “Glad I did though. Honestly...” He takes an audible breath, like he’s getting ready to jump off a cliff or something. “I think you’re the best thing to come out of moving to Watford.”

My mouth suddenly feels dry. And my heart is bruising my ribs it’s beating so hard. That was definitely one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. But it doesn’t feel like when Penny or Agatha or Mum are nice. It feels so...new. I wish there was a more eloquent word for it, for what I feel when he says something like that. It’s an all encompassing sensation I've never experienced before. Like a supernova in my brain and chest. I just can’t place it.

The end credit music starts playing. I turn my head back to the screen. “Oh hey, it’s done,” I say. “Wanna watch something else?”

I can’t see Baz’s face, but I feel him lean back against the sofa. “Sure. Anything in mind?”

“Actually, yeah, I've got something. You’ll like it.” I fumble for the remote, then start flipping through my Netflix list. I know it’s there... “Aha! This!” I highlight a movie I found yesterday. Baz leans forward with curiosity.

“A documentary on an Australian string quartet?” He chuckles. “Really?”

Shit, I thought he would like it because there are string instruments and stuff in it. But it’s not like every chef adores cooking shows. “S-Sorry, it was just an idea. We can watch something else.”

Baz puts an arm around my waist and squeezes my stomach tight. I immediately relax. “No, that wasn’t a discouragement. I’m very intrigued. I’m just surprised you’re offering to watch it. It’ll be quite dull for you.”

I shrug. “Eh, maybe. But you’ll like it, and I’m willing to try.”

Baz doesn’t answer. Well, not with words. His arm holds me even tighter, and he leans down to kiss my hair. His cool lips press lightly to my scalp. I can’t help the shudder it makes. When he pulls back, he goes back to to softly stroking my hair. I feel like I could melt into the couch.

“Put it on,” Baz sighs. “Try not to fall asleep, Snow.”

“I’ll do my best,” I say, meaning it genuinely.

So the movie is objectively boring for me, because I'm not a violin student, and I’m not a huge fan of documentaries period. But there are some good parts. I like the people, following their progression and lives and how their careers influence everything around them. Baz likes that too. Though he’s also fascinated by all the fancy instruments. I just think they’re all really pretty.

“Hey,” Baz asks, “where’s your flatmate?”

“Oh she’s-” The front door suddenly slams, making both of us jolt. A few footstep sounds later, Penny is standing right in front of us. “She’s right here. Hi, Pen.”

Penny is frozen. She blinks at us in complete silence for a few long seconds. I don’t know what’s so baffling. “Hi... What’s going on here?”

“Baz and I are watching a movie.” What’s going on with her? Pretty sure that was obvious.

She quirks an eyebrow. “So this is Baz?”

“Oh right.” I gesture to her. “Baz, this is Penelope Bunce.” I gesture to him. “Penny, this is Baz Grimm-Pitch.”

“Hello, Penelope," Baz says smoothly. "May I call you that?”

“Um, sure.”

“Wonderful. Pleasure to finally meet you.” He offers his hand like the gentleman he is.

Cautiously, Penny takes the handshake. “Same for me. Good to put a face to the name.”

“Likewise.”

Their hands fall. Penny has a weird expression on her face. Her eyes keep flicking between me and Baz, looking positively perplexed. I don’t get it. We’re just watching a movie. She said it was okay to bring Baz over, but it still must be weird for her to have someone new around. She doesn’t like new people. But Baz is going to be hanging around with me indefinitely, so they should probably get more comfortable with each other.

“Wanna watch and eat with us?” I ask. “Pizza is lukewarm but still good.”

She seems even more confused, head pulling back and mouth twisting for a moment. “Uh, sure, if that’s alright with both of you.” She looks pointedly at Baz.

“It’s perfectly fine with me. Snow’s the one taking up the entire sofa.”

I scoff and smack his knee. “Fuck off.” I swing my legs dramatically, putting myself upright. It makes my vision spin a bit, so I fall against Baz, head on his shoulder. I don’t think he minds though. “There, happy?”

He chuckles and throws an arm around me, pulling us even closer together. “Positively elated, Snow.” He presses a sloppy wet kiss to my cheek. I make a disgusted noise as I wipe it off.

“Arsehole.” I kiss his cheek too. Fair’s fair. I look up, and Penny’s eyes are incredibly wide. I gesture at her. “C’mon, Pen, there’s room now.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Alright then."

She sits down, but closer to the other end. Weird. I try to make more room, putting my legs over Baz’s, pressing against him. But she doesn’t move any closer. Actually, she moves further away. Weird, but I get wanting your own space. She is watching the movie intently though.

“This is good,” she says through her pizza. “That violin is incredible.”

“It’s called the Gibson ex-Huberman Stradivarius,” Baz interjects. “Made by Antonio Stradivari of Cremona in 1713. Many say his string instruments are the greatest ever made. He’s estimated to have made 960 violins, 650 of which are still around. What I wouldn’t give to play a Stradivarius.”

“Right," Penny chuckles. "Simon said you were a violinist.”

“Yup, he is,” I say. “Which makes him a total music nerd.”

Baz flicks my far ear then kisses the other. “Says the Doctor Who nerd. And not just music. I enjoy history and English language too.”

“Hey, so does Penny! She never shuts up about that book about working people.”

“‘The Making of The English Working Class’ by EP Thompson, Si,” Penny says with some exasperation. “It’s an interesting read.”

Baz makes a contemplative sound. He’s good at those. “I’ll have to look it up. Shall we compare notes sometime?”

Penny turns her head. She seems to be examining Baz over her spectacles, brown eyes moving up and down over him. She does that a lot, examines people, like me the first day we met all those years ago. She’s assessing him, figuring out whether he’s worth her time. She decided I was. I can only hope she likes him

“I’ll think about it,” she says.

I breathe out a small sigh of relief. They get along, thank God. Neither of them notice the sigh, but they do notice the loud yawn I can’t help afterwards.

“Tired, Snow?” Baz teases.

“No,” I grumble. I rub my aching eye, which doesn’t help my case.

Baz sighs, then shoves off my legs and stands over me, all tall and looming and handsome. He offers his hand. “Then let’s go to bed. I have an early class tomorrow anyway.”

“Okay.” I take his hand and he hoists me to my feet. I’m a bit wobbly, but Baz keeps me steady with an arm around my waist. Damn, I’m tired. “Can you put away the pizza, Pen? I’ll clean up the rest in the morning.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” she says absentmindedly, already flipping to her own show.

“G’night, Pen.”

“Night Si. And Baz.”

“Goodnight, Penelope. Lovely to meet you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I sigh again, because she sounds genuine, and I don’t need two of my best friends feuding. There’s no need for unnecessary drama.

Baz and I wash up quickly. (He hogs the mirror again.) I throw on my usual baggy shirt and sweats. I assumed he brought his ridiculous posh silk pyjamas, but to my surprise he takes one of my Watford sweatshirts and a matching set of grey trackies. I look at him with utter amusement.

“Really?” I chuckle.

“I left my bag in the living room,” he says nonchalantly. “And I don’t feel like going to get it.” His pretty face become nervous for a moment, looking down at the hardwood floor. “Is it alright?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I curl my fingers in his elastic waistband, making him stumble closer. “You look good. You should wear my clothes more often.”

He chuckles, leaning down to capture my lips. I sigh and melt into it. Baz holds my face, slowly running his finger over my cheek. I encircle his waist. Warmth spreads from my mouth and through my entire body. Damn. No matter how brief or how long, how fast or slow, Baz's kisses are always pretty damn great.

He pulls back slightly, leaving the smallest space between us. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he whispers against my skin. “Come on, now. I’m tired and so are you. Let’s sleep.”

I yawn right on cue. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Baz pulls me towards the bed. He lays down first, putting his glasses on the nightstand, and I follow, head pillowed on his strong chest. His arms wrap around me tightly. I like when he does that. Baz always makes me feel better just by holding me. How the hell does that work? Why does he feel so unlike any friend I've had before? I don't know. And I don't care, so long as he just keeps holding me.

“Night,” I mumble.

“Night, love,” he sighs.

I drift off with his left hand in my hair, his right tracing circles on my back, and his heartbeat right under my ear.

———————————————-

“Snow? Snow. Simon.”

I groan at the voice disturbing the my sleep. A rough, callused hand shakes my arm. Of course I know who it is, so I don’t even open my eyes.

“What?” I grumble

“I have to go,” Baz whispers. “I’ve got class until seven. Lunch at Goat tomorrow?”

“M-hm.”

“And are you still staying at my place Friday?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you understand anything I just said?”

I roll over, bleary eyes opening slightly. The dawn light doesn’t hurt my eyes too much. Baz is a blur of black, reddish-gold, and grey.

“Goat tomorrow, your flat Friday,” I mumble. “Got it.”

There’s white in the blur now, what I assume are his teeth in a wide grin. He leans forward. “Wonderful. See you later, darling.”

“Bye, love.”

He presses a kiss to my hairline. Even half asleep, I can feel his cool lips on my forehead and the smell of all his fancy products waft up my nose. I listen as his shoes click out the door.

I think I fall asleep again, because when I wake up it’s a lot brighter outside. I groan at the burning sunlight and bring the sheet over my head. I don’t have class until two so I don’t have to get up just yet. I just lay in bed, trying to block out the day. And under those sheets, it hits me that I called Baz ‘love’ for the first time. Huh. Guess his use of cute nicknames is rubbing off on me. It’s new, but so is a lot of stuff we’re doing, and I’ve like it all so far. I think I like this too.

My stomach growls like an angry lion. Guess that’s my cue to get up. I throw off my sheet and immediately shiver. Fuck, it’s chilly. I look over and see that Baz left my sweatshirt folded on my dresser, so I slip it on. I press it to my nose. It still sort of smells like him, a gorgeous mix of his cologne and fancy products. That makes me smile like an idiot, for whatever reason.

I saunter into the kitchen. Penny doesn’t have any class, so she’s sitting at the dining room table with a bunch of textbooks spread out. It’s like the school library threw up on it. The coffee in the pot is old, but I don’t feel like making a new one. So I pour it out and put it in the microwave.

“That’s disgusting, Si,” Penny sing songs.

“Shut up, Pen,” I reply with my most chipper voice. The microwave beeps. I drink from the mug and promptly spit the whole thing out in the sink. Oh Christ, it is disgusting.

“Told you so.”

I glare at her through the kitchen wall hole as I pour the coffee out. I start setting up the kettle for tea instead. Screw coffee. Baz says tea is better for you anyway.

“So,” she says very matter of factly, staring at me through our lovely wall hole, “Baz.”

She doesn’t continue. Nothing to explain what the fuck she’s talking about. She just looks at me with narrow eyes while twirling a pencil in her hand. I blink at her, silence hanging between us, and still nothing.

“Yeah, Baz,” I chuckle.

“You like him?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s cool.”

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah. Well, sorta.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Sort of?”

I shrug, scratching the back of my neck. “He’s nice in the important ways, y’know? Helps me out when I need it and treats me well. But he also teases me. In fun though. I tease him too, and I try to be nice. I hope he thinks I’m nice too.”

The kettle whistles. I get out my Adventure Time mug and a peppermint tea bag. When I look back at Penny, she’s twisting her lips, brow furrowed together, pencil tapping on the table rhythmically. That’s her concerned friend look. She always looks like this when I make a major life decision, or when I attempt cooking.

“And, you’re happy, right?” she asks carefully.

I blink at her in confusion again. That’s a weird question. I’ve been depressed before, sure, but I haven’t lately. So I’m not sure why Penny is concerned with my emotional state. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She chuckles and her concerned look goes away. That’s a relief. I don’t like making Penny worried. “Alright then. As long as you’re happy.”

“Okay,” I chuckle, laughing at the absurdity of this.“Fun talk, Pen. Enjoy studying.”

“Will do. Get to class on time!”

I scoff, walking towards my room with lovely steaming tea in hand. “If I got to class on time, I wouldn’t be Simon Snow Salisbury.”

Penny sighs with exasperation. Now that’s a sound I’ve heard since high school. It’s become weirdly comforting in a way. Penny’s always going to be a bit frustrated with me, and she still loves me anyway.

———————————————-

“Simon, what are you doing this weekend?”

I look up from my fancy grilled cheese, mouth still full. Baz has finished his panini and is now in his “villain position” again. One long leg over the other, bony elbows propped on his armrests, fingers pressed together. It’s still half intimidating-half badass. I swallow my food. Don’t want to be rude with him.

“This weekend?” I ask. “Uh, nothing. I don’t have anything planned. Why?”

He drums his fingers together slowly. Total Bond villain. “Well, I have a proposition for something we could do.”

That makes me put down my food and shift in my chair. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “You see, my parents wanted me to come home for the whole break next week. But I couldn’t do that with my practice schedule. I still want to see them though, so I’m driving up for family dinner on Sunday.”

“Okay...”

“And the thing is...” He drums his fingers on the wooden table and chews at his lip. “I’ve mentioned you to them, and they’re wondering if you’d like to come up with me.”

I nearly drop my sandwich. I stare at Baz silently for an inappropriate amount of time. “Your parents," I say cautiously, "want me to come over for dinner?”

He nods slowly, face pinched together in nervousness. “Yes. They’re both eager to meet you, though they may not show it outwardly. But please, love, don’t feel pressured. I told them it might be too soon for this but they can be...insistent. It’s completely up to you though. They’ll survive if you say no.” He rubs his nose under his glasses. “Sorry, this is just a whole mess. I thought about not asking but I wanted to give you the choice.”

“O-Okay.” I nod, like a very slow moving bobble head. Wow, this is just a lot. I haven’t met a friend’s parents since Agatha. And we were dating, which made it very scary. This seems even scarier though. My heart is pulsing too fast. Fuck, why does this feel so intimidating?

Baz grabs my hand, thumb tracing the back of it. It immediately calms me down. “Don’t panic, love, no matter what decision you make I’ll understand. It’s not like we’ll stop speaking if you don’t come to dinner with my pushy, posh parents.” He squeezes my hand. “It’s up to you, love.”

Right, up to me... Fuck. Do I want to meet Baz’s posh family? Even though it’s scary? I mean, I guess it would be nice. They’re probably smart like Baz, cultured too, all that. It sounds intimidating, and it was with Baz at first, but I learned. And maybe I can learn with his family too. I'd like to know more about Baz, be part of another aspect of his life. That's what friends do, right?

“Okay,” I say, “I’d like to come.”

Baz’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth falling open slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah. It sounds fun, and I’d like to meet your parents. If they’re anything like you, they’ll be posh, really smart, and weirdly nice.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Well, that’s one way to see them.”

I giggle too, leaning closer to him over the the small table. “Okay, good to know. Anything I should bring?”

“Well, Sunday nights are our ‘fancy dinners’, so we dress up. You’ll have to wear a suit.”

I frown. “I don’t own a suit.”

He nods like some thoughtful scholar. “Hm, alright. Well, I’ve got one you could borrow. Is that alright?”

“Sure. If it fits me, Mr. Tall and Lanky.” I poke his muscular shoulder for emphasis, making him laugh.

“You’re not that much shorter than me, don’t worry. So we’ll go up Sunday afternoon and leave Monday morning. I’ll certainly be drinking, so I don’t want to drive home the night of.”

“Very responsible, love, very responsible.”

Baz chuckles softly, and I do too. He looks me in the eye. All I see is kindness. Who the hell ever said he was an arsehole? He’s actually incredible.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” he asks, his voice still concerned.

I adjust our hands, so we’re smooth palm to scratchy palm, and smile as big as I can. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Baz smiles back. Not as big, but it’s still kind and calm. He leans forward and kisses my cheek, whispering in my ear. “Wonderful. Can’t wait.”

And weirdly enough, neither can I.

———————————————-

AN: So the documentary is real and called "Highly Strung", and the book Penny mentions is real too. Hope you all liked this. I like writing this fluffy definitely-not-a-relationship haha. Tomorrow, "adventure" :)

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #university #no magic #human baz #oblivious simon #straight boy #mysnowbazfanfic

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lysstheintrovert-blog · 6 years

Text

On the Run (DBH Simon/Human!Reader)

Hello!

This is my very first time actually posting some of my works for this fandom and I have to say that it’s a huge weight lifted off my shoulders as I was finally able to clear a space in my head for my imagination to run wild. This piece is one of my one ideas and I hope you enjoy (It’s pretty bad since it’s been a while since I actually written a full imagine and followed through with it, so bear with me)

Word count: 2907

The lightning flashes within seconds of the last, illuminating the night sky almost permanently in flashes of brilliant purples. Thunder erupted throughout the night sky as birds flew to the outskirts of the city, in the opposite direction of the storm. The fliers posted to numerous street lights whipped around in the harsh autumn winds, some coming loose just to dance with the winds all the way down the street. The city of Detroit was coming alive before your very eyes.

Your nimble hands quickly crumpled the scattered newspaper clippers you found throughout the abandoned home and tossed them into the small fire that you had just got going only seconds ago. Your weary (E/C) eyes lit up with sharp hues of yellows and oranges as you watched the flaw grow more intense with every piece of paper you added with the slight wind of your breath. A satisfying smile came across your lips as you you watched the fire hold a steady flame for longer than you anticipated.

“The fire’s going strong,” you said softly, being afraid that you would jinx yourself and make your night worse than it already was, “hopefully it’ll stay like that for the rest of the night, all we got to do is keep feeding it and make sure it doesn’t go out.”

“Oh, okay…”

Your soft gaze landed on Simon’s drenched figure, sitting on the bottom of the stairs. His cerulean eyes were caught up in looking at his hands with an intensity that could be felt in the room. His hair was wet, darkening the normal shade of blonde that he always sported and his traditional uniform was torn and tattered, stained with his own blood as well as human blood. He looked like a mess and it pained you to see him that way.

“Simon…” You whispered his name softly, being careful in your efforts to not put him under any more stress for the remainder of the night. You slowly approached him, your hands reaching out ever so slightly to prove your efforts to soothe him; your observant eyes had caught sight of his wounds that he had received earlier on in the night and they appeared to be getting worse. “Your wounds… can I patch them up?”

Your words seemed to snap him out of his daze and caused him to look up at you; you watched his LED turn to a sharp yellow as his blue eyes scanned over your face and body, it turned red briefly before turning bad to it’s usual bright blue ring. He looked down at his own body and then back at yours, but didn’t mutter a single word. You rose your brows to see if he would still say anything.

“I’ll be fine for the moment, it’s you that I’m worried about, your side is still bleeding through your shirt and we should probably treat the cuts on your face and hands before they get infected.” He stated bluntly as he pointed to your side with a lazy finger. He stood up from the stairs, but didn’t move an inch until you spoke a word; he towered over you, but you knew there was nothing intimidating about him.

“Simon, trust me, i’m fine. You are the one that needs the most urgent care out of the both of us, if you go, then what is my purpose of going to Jericho?” You folded your arms across your chest as you slightly nodded your head towards him, proving him wrong, “Jericho is a sanctuary for deviant androids and i’m not an android, you are. My only purpose on this journey is to make sure you get to Jericho, at all costs.”

He let of a defeated sigh and looked you in your eyes once more before muttering a quick “fine” while he sluggishly made his way to the single wooden chair by the fireplace. You quickly went to retrieve your bulky backpack and dragged it over to where he was seated. You pulled up an old milk crate and sat in front of Simon, facing him as you pulled the equipment out that was required to fix Simon and bring him back to one-hundred percent functionality.

“I’m gonna need you to either hold up your shirt or take it off completely so I can assess the damage,” your gaze didn’t meet his once as you told him; a slight blush crossed your cheeks and was enhanced by the firelight. “You’re going to have to change anyways since your uniform as blood stains, both blue and red, on it and it’s definitely a dead give away.”

Simon sighed and pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground beside him. The firelight enhanced his muscular figure, making your blush deepen. You looked away for a brief moment as if you were searching the bag for a missing piece of the kit, but once you regained your bearings you faced him with a neutral face and immediately began to work in silence.

“He really got you good, didn’t he?” Your tone was soft and your question lingered in the air as you placed metamorphing mess over his exposed wounds, watching it seal everything and fade into the color of his skin tone. You wiped up the remaining splatters of his blue blood on his skin while he just hummed in response to your question.

“He got you worse… I know he did…”

You paused for a brief moment, your whole body froze as your mind was traveling back to a couple hours ago were a simple argument resulted in a accidental, and hopefully, assault. Simon called your name softly, pulling you back to the present and took your hand off his chest and cupped it in his own, giving it a firm squeeze as if he knew that you were thinking about the chilling event.

“You’re done. I got some clothes for you to wear,” you were pulling out numerous clothes from your backpack showing them to him with a quick urgency; he knew that something was wrong as you were acting more antsy now than you were when you initially took off into the night. “They may, or may not fit, but we’ll figure something out, right?”

“I’ll just slip on my uniform for the time being, I still got to patch you up, don’t I?” He quickly got his shirt back on and stood up from the chair and moved it aside. He offered you his hand and you gladly took it and stood up from your milk crate and followed him to the edge of the room. He ordered you to wait a second while he ran up the stairs and searched for some type of cloth that you could lay on for the time being. When he came back down, he had a pair of dusty and tattered window curtains and a few intact feather pillows that looked relatively clean.

“Lay here while I get the kit out. It should be fairly quick, if I rely on my old programing of a caretaker, my nimble hands should have you patched up in no time.” He told you while he set the kit down on the floor beside him; he was about to start working, but he stopped as he looked at your shirt. “I’ll, uh, need you to remove your shirt in order for me to work proficiently.”

Without a word you shrugged off your soaked hoodie and placed it at the foot of the fireplace along with your shirt to get dry while you laid down on your side, facing the fireplace. Simon began working right away; the moment his fingers made contact with your skin, goosebumps formed along that side of your body. You laid your hands over your chest to at least keep your modesty that was barely contained with your bra. While he worked on your side, your mind began to wander to many things, but at the center of all of your thoughts was Simon.

You had knew him for two years as your family’s primary caretaker of your mother. His model was the whole crazy in the moment and after getting the heartbreaking news of your mother’s possible terminal illness, your father wanted the best for her, so he chose him. He was good at what he was programed to do, but your mother’s condition continued to worsen and nine six months ago she had passed, leaving behind you, a lost android without orders, and a very denial husband.

You had always seen Simon as a human being; you treated him as such and it drove your father crazy. He grew to hate Simon right after your mother’s passing and was contemplating on whether to send him back to Cyberlife with the claims of deviancy, the main emotion being selfishness and anger for not taking better care of your mother or abusing him to pull you a part. He chose the latter and it continued on until you finally grew the strength to stand up against him and protect Simon.

You would be lying if your own emotions didn’t play a role in how the night’s events carried out. You’ve developing a romantic feeling towards Simon and his kind nature; it was his programing, but he had his moments of own pure thought and emotions. You stepped in between your father and Simon and took a fair beating from your father in the common room in your home. The fight carried out to the top of the stairs and you were thrown down them, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

In a blind fit of rage and fear, you stormed to the kitchen and grabbed a knife to defend yourself and Simon, but you took it too far and all of your bottled emotions tipped over and spilled out like a fountain. You repeatedly stabbed him and only stopped when Simon pulled you off of his unconscious body. With the adrenaline coursing through your warm viens, you quickly packed what you could and made a brief phone call to the police about your father before taking off with Simon into the night.

“You’re all done now. Nothing major was injured, so you’ll be okay, just try to take it easy until the morning.” He notified you while he cleaned up the mess of bloody gaze by tossing them into the fire. He waited for you to get up from the floor so he could work on your face, but you didn’t move. It was now you that was lost deep in your thoughts.

“(Y/N)? You alright?”

You slowly turned to look behind you at Simon as he knelt behind you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked at him for a few moments longer before slowly sitting up and muttered a soft yes and facing him. Your hazy gaze held his as he began to dabb the blood off of your face. He remained silent as he worked on your face; you watched his LED keep a constant yellow as he worked on your face.

“I--I killed him.”

Simon stopped working and let his ocean blue eyes meet with your shimmering (E/C) ones. Tears were welling up on the brim of your eyelids, your eyes getting glossy as you you repeated the sentence over in your mind and out loud into the tense room.

“I--I killed my own father and I didn’t mean to.” You stared deep into Simon’s eyes as you let a tear slip over the brim and roll down your flushed cheeks. “It’s my fault that you’re in this mess and I’m so--so sorry.”

Simon didn’t know what to say to you; he knew that you finally found a crack in the dam in your mind and all of your thoughts were spilling from your mind at once. He decided that he would remain silent and let you vent for the first time since you both had left the house.

“Tell me Simon, why do androids want to feel? It’s such a painful thing to experience.”

Simon didn’t know how to fully answer your simple question. He had his reasons, but he wasn’t sure that the rest of his kind shared his reasons. Humans had always suppressed them from any type of humanistic action other than their programing, but the one thing they will always have is curiosity and there was plenty among the androids who were constantly being forbidden to feel.

“We, we want to feel like you humans, because…” he paused for a moment, being at a loss for words, “because we want to just know the experience of what it is to be human. We were created to look like you, to function like you, but we don’t get to feel like you and we feel like we are missing a part of us that would make us whole.”

Your sniffles and the crackling of the fire was the only thing heard in the room while you wiped away your silent tears. You chuckled at his response, sending him mixed signals as his LED turned yellow.

“I hate to be selfish Simon, but if there was a way to get you back to your programing, I would do it,” You spoke in a hushed whisper, as if your own thoughts were going to betray you at any moment, “Humans are fragile beings and being able to feel everything is a blessing and a curse; no one should live like this… being able to feel all the pain in the world…”

“There’s love…”

You froze as you looked at Simon with tear-stained cheeks. You continued to wipe your tears as you listened to Simon carry on with his reasoning.

“Sure, there is plenty of pain and suffering in the world for everyone, but there’s also love and compassion that overrules those things. I have witnessed it with my own eyes and I have experienced it by myself.”

He took hold of your hands and gripped them tight in his own and moved in closer. His soft breaths fanned over your face and warmed your heart to hear him talk of kindness in a world gone mad.

“Your mother was constantly in pain, but she always saw the bright side of things and always spoke fondly of you even when you stormed off after her tiny lectures, even your father, she was always patient with his emotional side. She is the reason why I am the person I am today. You helped me experience love for the first time after you had treated me with such respect that I thought was impossible for a human to have for an android and you set me free earlier this evening when you protected me from your father.”Simon stopped for a brief moment, looking deep into your (E/C) eyes as he was finishing up his moving talk.

“I broke down the barriers of my programing to protect you from letting anger consume you as I knew that you would regret it later. I don’t want to see you hurt in any type of way and I want to keep you from harm’s way… I guess this is what love is supposed to feel like.”

Without an indication of what he would do next, Simon leaned in smoothly and gently pressed his lips against yours. You were a bit taken off guard by his sudden actions, but you melted into his touch as he caressed your cheek as you just sat there in the chair, too stunned to move. His hands held your face as if you were fragile and his kiss was tender and soft as if you were everything that he solely desired in life. In the last couple of moments of the kiss, you kissed him back, letting your hands wander to cradle the back of his head and grab a fist full of his uniform to pull him closer to your shivering form. Your whole body was relaxed and you knew that something was going to change your life from that night on.

You both were speechless after your first intimate kiss and the tension in the room was replaced with awkward silence. You brushed the loose strands of your (H/C) locks back behind your ears as you reached for your backpack to fish out another pair of clothes to wear; you set Simon’s aside as you figured that he would get dressed soon as well.

The downpour of rain continued it’s assault on the house from the outside and above as you and Simon created a makeshift bed by the materials you had found upstairs. You both were now content with one another and knew that you two would become something someday, you would just have to get past the hurdles of society in order to become one.

“(Y/N), do you think that we’ll make it to Jericho?”

A heavy sigh came from your lips, “I hope so, it isn’t far, but anything can happen on the way there.” You paused for a moment as you laid beside in in front of the fire, letting him drape his arm across your torso, “but for now, let us just enjoy this somewhat peaceful night together.”

You both had fallen asleep with soft smiles on your faces and unaware of the trouble that soon followed you.

#detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh imagine #dbh simon #dbh #dbh simon imagine #dbh simon x reader #simon #simon dbh

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malecsecretsanta · 6 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @notrightnow01!

I hope you enjoy your gifts and have an amazing Christmas!

Summary: Two AU’s and one non-AU all about everybody’s favorite ship, Malec.

Read on AO3

*****

it’s raining here

It all started during the passing period between third and fourth period.

Alec was walking Magnus to his history class, telling him about how Maia called out a homophobic kid in their chemistry class. Magnus was smiling throughout the story, both because he was proud of Maia (as usual) and how happy he was in that moment (as usual).

When the pair reached Magnus's next class, Alec rested his hands on his boyfriend's hips and licked his lips before he planted a kiss on Magnus's lips. People always stared, but that never stopped them. It clearly never stopped Clary and Jace whenever they made out in the halls.

"I will be here to walk you to lunch after class, okay?" Alec promised to his boyfriend.

Magnus chuckled. "Just like you are here everyday. I'll be waiting," Magnus said with a grin plastered on his face__.

Magnus stood on his tippy toes to kiss Alec's cheek before he grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. Magnus, still holding his boyfriend's hand, was slowly walking into his classroom, letting go of Alec's hand. But before he could enter, Catarina quickly appeared and hooked their arms together, taking Magnus to who knows where. Alec smirked as he watched the pair walked off, and he went to his next class.

On his way there, Alec saw the blonde hair of his brother, who seemed very occupied with sucking Clary's face. Alec walked up to the pair, who were right outside of his next class. Alec coughed, and watched the pair turn around to face him.

"Oh, hey Alec," Clary said as he approached them.

"Hi Clary, you and Jace sucking face again?" Alec asked with a sarcastic tone.

Clary playfully rolled her eyes as Jace spoke up.

"Can you stop teasing me about this? You and Magnus kiss in the halls all the time."

"Yeah but we don't suck the life out of each other' faces, unlike you to do," Alec retorted.

"We do not!"

"Hey, I am sorry you have privileges as a heterosexual!" Alec said through laughs.

But before Jace could say another word, the loudest noise that Alec ever heard echo down the hall.

It felt like it all happened in slow motion.

Jace's facial expression changed from blissful to absolutely terrified. Clary did the same. Everyone around them screamed and started running into classrooms. Doors were being locked and alarms were going off.

Alec, Jace, and Clary were shoved into their classroom before Alec could process what was going on.

After the trio was forced into the room, the door was locked by their teacher, Mr. Starkweather. Other kids were closing the blinds and a very familiar face turned the lights off. Isabelle turned around and Alec breathed out a sigh of relief.

Alec ran over to Isabelle and hugged her tightly when he realized what was going on.

Loud noise. Widespread panic. Turning off the lights. Hiding in classrooms.

Another bang went off, closer to them this time. Alec gasped in fear as he let go of Izzy and slid down to the floor, crawling to the far corner of the room where Jace and Clary were. His sister followed behind him when it hit Alec.

There was someone in the school with a gun and Alec didn't see Magnus go into his next class. Magnus could be in danger.

Alec's breath quickend. His heart started to beat faster out of fear. He started to become more and more pale. Everyone around him was freaking out, but not as much as Alec was.

Isabelle turned around to see Alec freaking out. She reached out to touch his arm.

"Alec? It's okay, we are gonna be okay," Izzy asurred him quietly.

"No, no Izzy, it's not going to be okay," Alec retorted. Izzy gave him a look of concern as she moved closer.

"We are safe in here," Izzy responed.

"It's not myself who I'm worried about," Alec said before pausing, "it's Magnus. I walked him to class but Catarina took Magnus elsewhere. I don't know where he is, Iz. He could be hurt!"

Izzy kept on stroking Alec's arm, trying to calm him down.

"Where's your phone? Why don't you text him?" Izzy suggested. Alec pulled his phone out of his back pocket and texted Magnus.

"Where are you? Please tell me you are okay," Alec typed and send to Magnus.

Another gunshot was fired, this time it sounded further away.

It wasn't Magnus, It wasn't Magnus, Alec told himself. It wasn't him.

----------

Alec chuckled as he spun Magnus around, pulling him back into his chest when he turned to face Alec again.

The pair was dancing in Alec's backyard. Alec had set up fairy lights all over the fences and made Magnus dinner for their date night. A while ago, Alec connected his phone to a speaker and started playing a playlist Magnus had made for them. When a Sam Smith song came on, Alec stood up and offered his boyfriend his hand, smiling. Magnus accepted, and they have been dancing since then.

Alec pulled Magnus back into his chest and looked lovingly into his eyes. God, how much he loved his eyes. It's like the held they entire universe behind their chocolate brown color. Alec could stare at them for hours.

One of Magnus's hands moved up to caress the side of Alec's face as Alec had his hands on Magnus's waist while they slowly swayed to the beat of the song.

"This is perfect. You're perfect," Magnus exclaimed, as the lighting from the fairy lights and the moon glistened against his face.

"Only for you, sweetheart," Alec replied, kissing his forehead.

"I love it when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Call me cute things. I know it sounds cliche, but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

Alec smiled and blushed a little bit. "You are so adorable. Especially when you wear my hoodies. They make you look very cuddleable. Not that you don't look cute and cuddley all the time, it just that-" Alec rambled until Magnus cut him off with a kiss.

They rested their foreheads together, taking in each other. Alec smiled and peppered kisses all over Magnus's face, which caused Magnus to blush and giggled.

"God I love you so much," Alec confessed, pulling Magnus closer to his chest, gently moving his fingers across Magnus's back.

"I love you too."

----------

It had been about fourty minutes since Alec had first texted Magnus, and he had gotten no respone yet. Alec's heartbeat was going faster than it had even gone before, and he has never felt this afraid in his life. Izzy, Jace, and Clary have been trying their best to calm him down while they panic as well.

It was when the usual and familiar sound of the overhead speaker put everyone (slightly) at ease.

"Students and staff, our school has been confirmed clear. You are all free to leave the building. Please stay safe when getting home," the principal explained.

Alec was the first to leave the classroom. He grabbed his backpack, held his phone in his hand, and sprited out of the classroom as fast as he could. He screamed for Magnus, and texted him while he ran down hallways and into classrooms with students filing out of them.

When Alec couldn't find Magnus anywhere in the building, he ran outside to find a sea of students. He didn't care who stared at him, Alec kept shouting for his boyfriend. Alec saw no ambulences, which hopefully meant that nobody was harmed.

"Alec!"

Alec turned around to see Magnus standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at him.

In that moment, everything was alright. Alec's heartbeat was still beating quickly, but not out of fear. He sighed when he saw Magnus, and he ran over to him.

Alec hugged him tighter than he ever had before. Magnus breathed heavily into Alec's shoulder. When the two pulled away, Alec struggled to find his words.

"Magnus, Magnus I thought something terrible happened to you. You never responded to my texts and I didn't know where you were and I wasn't sure if you were safe or not and I-"

Magnus had attached his lips to Alec's, gracefully and gentley, to reassure Alec that he was okay and that they were okay.

When Magnus pulled away, he cupped Alec's face in his hands.

"We survived Alec. We are alright."

silly love songs (shape who we are)

Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood were two completely different people.

The so called popular and sport personality belonged to Alec. He was on their school's football team, and his proudest achievement was his letterman jacket that displayed the red and white school colors. Alec was popular, but he only had inner circle friends and loved his friends and family more than anything. While most of his peers thought he carried the standard jock stereotype, he's a huge poetry nerd who also has a soft spot for cats.

While Magnus on the other hand was very flamboyant and expressive. He was never seen without any kind of glitter on him, and he always gets compliments on his outfits. If you saw him, you would understand. No matter how much he loves fashion and gossip, he will always go out of his way to do things for the issues and people he cares about.

Seems like an odd pairing, right?

Well, they beg to differ.

Every morning, Alec drives to Magnus's house to pick him up for school. He honks twice, and Magnus skips out of his house, running up to the drivers side of Alec's car. Alec rolls down his window, and Alec gives him a quick peck before Magnus gets into the passenger seat and they belt out the lyrics to whatever is on the radio.

When the pair get to school, they walk in hand in hand, grins on their faces and talking about whatever comes to their minds. (Well, sometimes they get a bit distracted with each other in the back of Alec's car and they have to sprint to class).

They use whatever time they have in between classes to see each other. They loosely hold hands, laugh at funny memories, and glare at the homophobic kids who always glare at them.

But either of them could argue that lunch is the best time of day.

Alec walks down the stairs from his biology class into the lunchroom and instantly sees his friend group. Simon, Maia, and Izzy are having an intense discussion with Clary, Jace was listening to the conversation as well, but he clearly wasn't being invited in any time soon. Ragnor and Catarina were arguing, probably over who has the better camp on Animal Crossing. Alec didn't know them too well until things became serious with Magnus, and they have been welcomed to their friend group ever since.

Alec found a seat next to Maia as she was expressing how cute dogs are while Clary prepared a response, but got distracted when she started telling Alec about how Jace almost choked on a candy bar during second period. They all laughed at Jace's pain while he yelled at them. Alec found it funny.

"Clary dared me to eat it as fast as I could! It's not my fault!" Jace protested as Simon and Maia were laughing, Simon slamming his hands on the table.

"That most definitely sounds like your fault, blondie," Magnus said as he approached their table, wearing a black blazer with red roses printed on it, black leather pants, and boots with a slight heel.

"Hey babe," Alec greeted his boyfriend as he kissed his cheek when he sat down next to him.

"Wow you two are disgustingly cute," Maia exclaimed, and Alec looked at her in confusion. She laughed.

"You know better than to disrespect the best couple in school, Maia," Simon said as he took a French fry from Jace.

"It was a compliment in the highest order!" Maia responded, taking the French fry from Simon and eating it, which resulted in Simon throwing his hands up in protest.

It was times like this with their friends that they really cherished. Moments like this won't last forever, and they made the best of their high school years.

Magnus and the gang would always get ready for football games at Magnus's house, wearing face paint and scarfs and jackets with school colors on them. Magnus always wore Alec's letterman jacket, it was his favorite piece of Alec's clothing. They were always the loudest in the stands, and when their team won the championships, Magnus ran down to the field and Alec kissed him in front of the entire team and school. Nobody cared though, expect for their friends who cheered even more and wolf whistled at the pair.

For Valentine's Day, Alec received a Val-O-Gram in every single class from Magnus, which was quiet cheesy, but Alec loved it nonetheless. When Alec went to pick up Magnus for school, he had a giant teddy bear in the back of his car for Magnus. They spent the whole day spoiling each other, and ended the day with dinner at Alec's house and them having a movie marathon of terrible high school dramas.

Every Saturday is the day when Magnus spends the day with Alec, and usually ends up spending the night. Sometimes they spend all day exploring the city, going to cute little bookstores and cafes. Other times Magnus steals Alec's grey hoodie and they stay inside, cuddling while they watch Supernatural and Project Runway. Alec will run his figures through Magnus's hair and kiss his forehead and fingers while he holds Magnus tightly.

It's the little things like this that build their relationship to be as strong as it is. Seeing Alec and Magnus together so openly helped other students accept who they were and feel comfortable in their own skin. Who knows what the two of them will do when they graduate, but they will not leave each other's sides for the rest of their life.

raindrops and file reports

Magnus's morning was a blur. Thinking back about it made him smile, as everything happened so fast.

He awoke to the quiet patter of raindrops falling against the window of his bedroom, along with Alec planting soft kisses all over his face. Magnus saw Alec's bright smile as he fluttered his eyes open, and gave him a proper "good morning" kiss.

As much as Magnus wanted to stay in bed and cuddle his beautiful boyfriend, but after looking at the time, he realized he had a client in an hour. He kissed Alec's nose before he tried to sit up, but Alec's arms that were wrapped around Magnus's torso pulled him back into bed as he mumbled "Stay" into Magnus's neck.

Magnus chuckled as he slid back down into bed, intertwining his legs with Alec's.

"Fifteen more minutes," Magnus stated, and Alec hummed in response.

All that was exchanged from the two was kisses and the words "I love you" that meant so much to both of them that butterflies couldn't help but make themselves present.

It took the Shadowhunter some convincing, but the two finally got out of bed. Alec took a quick shower and got dressed while Magnus made their breakfast.

Alec entered the dining room to see Magnus serving breakfast, and swiftly kissed his boyfriend before sitting down across from him.

They discussed what their plans were for the day, and what they wanted to do for dinner and how they would spend their evening.

They finished up breakfast and Alec put his black boots on that were resting near the front door of the loft. Magnus walked over and kissed Alec goodbye, mumbling an "I love you" against his lips. The Shadowhunter replied once he pulled away, and kissed him one last time before opening the door and closing it quietly, making his way to the Institute. Magnus offered to make him a portal, but Alec refused, not wanting to drain Magnus of his magic this early.

Now, Magnus was sat on one of his couches, finally dressed, scrolling through emails regarding the Pandemonium. His client had just left and he was fed up with them, even after a couple minutes. He really wished something would give him an excuse to get out of dealing with work, since there is so much that he would rather be doing.

He decided to text Alec to see if he was available for lunch, since he wanted to get his mind off of things. When he sent the text, he heard the familiar sound of Alec's phone from their bedroom. Magnus stood up slowly and wandered into their shared bedroom to see Alec's phone on the right bedside table.

Without hesitation, Magnus quickly picked up Alec's phone and slipped it into the pocket of his coat, and quickly created a portal. He stepped through it, not feeling the slightest bit of nausea before he came face to face with the Institute.

Magnus entered swiftly to see Shadowhunters everywhere, not to his surprise. Some where carrying files, some were chatting, and some were in full battle gear, ready to go demon hunting.

But only one Shadowhunter truly caught his eye. Alec was stood in the middle of the Ops Center at the head of a table, leaning over it. His hands were placed on the table, and his head was hung low. Jace, Clary, and Isabelle were all standing at the table as well, and Jace seemed to be discussing something with the other three.

Magnus started walking over to the table, and Alec lifted his head up to reply to Jace. A wide grin was plastered onto his face when he saw Magnus approaching, and ran over to him. He wrapped his arms around Magnus's waist and picked him up, spinning him around. When Alec set Magnus back down, he kissed the warlock's cheek and nuzzled his head into Magnus's neck.

"I missed you," Alec mumbled against Magnus's cold skin.

"You left an hour ago," Magnus stated with a chuckle.

"An hour is too long," Alec replied as he moved his head up to face Magnus, putting his hands on the shorter man's waist. Magnus smiled up at Alec as he put his hands around Alec's neck and rolled up on his toes to give Alec a soft peck.

When Magnus pulled away, Alec pouted and leaned down to kiss him again. Alec pulled Magnus in closer and laughed into the kiss. Alec pulled away and strung out the sentence "I love you" between pecks.

"I love you more," Magnus replied, stroking Alec's face with his thumb, staring longingly into his eyes.

"Not possible," Alec stated quietly before they were interrupted by Jace clearing his throat. Alec pulled away from Magnus's embrace to face Jace.

"What?" Alec asked, throwing his hands up in confusion.

"Alec, we have demons to take care of," Jace replied, a blank look on his face.

"Says the boy who has 'book club' with Clary every so often. You guys are really loud, by the way," Alec retorted. Jace rolled his eyes as Clary blushed a very visible beet red.

"Plus, Magnus is here on business. Right Mags?" Alec stated as he turned to Magnus. The warlock nodded, going along with Alec.

"Jace, we can take care of the demons, let them have some fun," Isabelle interjected.

Alec cleared his throat and turned back to the three Shadowhunters.

"As the Head of The New York Institute, I send you, Jace, Clary, and Izzy to take care of the demons in the East Village. I have file reports to attend to, so you might as well be on your way before things get any worse down there," Alec ordered.

Jace and Clary left the Ops Center together, with Izzy trailing behind, winking at Alec and Magnus before following the couple. Alec turned back to Magnus, a slight grin on his face.

"If you planned on staying, I wasn't lying about the file reports. You can come back later if you would rather," Alec explained as Magnus chuckled.

"I would much rather stay here, and I actually came for a delivery," Magnus assured Alec as he pulled out the Shadowhunter's phone from his coat pocket.

"You left this at home," Magnus explained and stuck his phone in one of the pockets on Alec's jacket.

"Why, thank you," Alec expressed as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket to check his notifications.

"And yes, I will have lunch with you.”

#notrightnow01 #malecsanta17 #*fic17 #*gifts17

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skam-season4 · 7 years

Text

Love Him Like a Son

Read on AO3 here

Summary: Eskild and Even meet. Eskild gives Even a talk.

Notes: Remember at the beginning of 5:10, after Even leaves, Eskild was like “That guy Even was cool. I met him in the bathroom this morning”? This is that. I think Eskild is a great friend and really underappreciated, because there is more to him than his loud personality. He has more quiet layers. I feel like Even and his mother are really close and she’s shameless, so look forwards to that. I tried to give this clip a good mix of it, and I tried to put the anon prompt and my own idea of how this went down in one. I hope it worked.

Sunday, October 30, 2016 at 7:23 am Even’s point of view Age 19

***

Even blinks awake groggily. He turns his head to his left and sees Isak resting on his arm, fast asleep and brow slightly furrowed. Even lies there for a moment, watching him sleep. Isak lets out soft breaths as his bare back gently rises and falls. It’s then that Even remembers that both of them are shirtless and in only boxers for pajamas.

Before he gets himself too riled up, he gently shoulders a sleeping Isak off of his chest before sliding out of bed, pulling on a nearby shirt. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees he has eight missed calls from Sonja, a string of text messages from her, and a new message from his mom.

He holds back a sigh, but doesn’t respond. He taps the back button and opens the message from his mother.

He blows out a breath before responding.

His mother knows. He doesn’t even need to talk to her face to face to know that she knows. Even thinks she probably knew from the first time he mentioned Isak to her. He puts down his phone with a small smile on his face before looking around Isak’s room.

This is the first time he really looks at it since he got here two days ago. Even likes to think he’s a fairly observant person with all the movies he’s seen, but he realizes he never really looked around the room he and Isak stumbled into, seeing as they were… occupied for most of his stay.

He leans over the bed, careful not to lose his balance and fall on the sleeping Isak. The first thing he sees, and miraculously failed to notice, is the magazine cut out of a woman in a red swimsuit. He raises his eyebrows at this but chooses not to think too much of it. Even assumes Isak’s roommates don’t know about him based on how Isak has acted since Friday night.

There’s a plethora of troll memes, a few comic strips, and what looks like a photocopy of a foot, with a matching one on the other side of the wall, this one showing a head of curls and a forehead reading ‘basura’. He squints a little at the wall and sees a tiny black and white square taped near the bottom of the collage. It reads, “The Essential Simon and Garfunkel,” and seems to be a photo of Isak and his friend, Jonas, Even thinks his name is, with their faces edited onto the album cover. Even snorts a bit at this, and figures it must be some sort of inside joke, but it's funny regardless.

Human nature gets the better of him, so he trudges out of Isak’s room as quietly as possible. He shuts the door softly and steps out into the hallway before realizing he has no idea where the bathroom is. He thinks back to friday night and remembers Isak’s directions to Sonja, and starts heading in that direction. The memory of the two interacting leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He heads down the hall and to the left, opening the bathroom door and stepping in, still mindful to be quiet.

After taking a leak, he washes his hands, still taking in all of his surroundings. He sees the little cup full of everyone’s toothbrushes and vaguely wonders what it would feel like to add his own toothbrush to the cup.

Before the thought can wander too far, Even is interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open. A man who Even can only assume is Eskild walks in and jumps when he notices Even. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t, uh, ahem, didn’t realize that anyone was… in here. The lock is broken, so, uh… yeah.” Eskild trails off as his eyes sweep up and down Even’s body. “And… who are you? Are you… are you Noora’s new man? Did she finally get herself a Tinder account? Or… maybe… Linn’s guest?” Even shakes his head and sticks out a (clean) hand and offers it to Probably Eskild. “Even,” he offers, adding, “and no, not Noora or Linn. I’m Isak’s, uh,” he hesitates for a beat, trying to find the right word before just settling on, “guest.” Eskild raises his eyebrows at this and nods. “Oh, okay. Isak doesn’t usually have guests, so… yeah. I’m Eskild, by the way,” Eskild offers, confirming Even’s assumption. Even nods his head. The two stand there for a moment, letting the awkward conversation sink in. Eskild speaks up again after a long minute, “But, yeah, I didn’t hear you come in yesterday, I was home most of the day, unless you came in late, because I was out late with friends, we got drinks together last night.” Even shakes his head and figures it's just easier to tell the truth. “No, I, uh… I got here on Friday night. Isak and I pregamed together.” Eskild’s eyebrows shoot up in suspicion, this time even higher than the last. “Oh! You’ve… you’ve been here since Friday?” Even nods. “I see.” Eskild nods slowly. “And you.. You’ve just been holed up in Isak’s smelly room for the entire weekend.” It doesn’t come out as a question, but Even nods along anyways, trying to look casual and not suspicious at all. Eskild looks at him with an expression he can’t read, scanning every detail of his face. Eskild takes a step towards him as something in his expression hardens.

“So, Even. I know what’s going on here, don’t worry.” Even simultaneously tenses at the idea of outing Isak but relaxes at the idea of not having to sneak around.

“He hasn’t really said anything to me, or probably anyone yet about whatever is going on here,” Eskild gesticulates in the direction of Even, “but I live with him. I’m not stupid.” Eskild drops his voice in pitch and volume. You should know that Isak is my roommate, but I love that kid like a son. So if you, or anyone else comes rolling through my kollektiv and breaks that kid’s heart, I will come for you. Because that kid has been through too much already to add one more person fucking him over to his list. Because the only way I’ve see him open up and be vulnerable in front of anyone was when he was about to blackout from drinking his problems away. I don’t know if you’re just passing through. But if you do decide to stick around, you better make sure you give that boy every fibre of love and care you have in your body, because God knows it isn’t going to come from anywhere else. He seems grumpy on the outside, but he carries so much love inside that smelly teenage body of his. So when he’s ready to open up and let it all out, and if you’re the receiver, make sure that it’s reciprocated, or else end it before it’s too late. He is just starting to loosen up and be comfortable with himself for the first time in his life. I know him. And if this is ruined for him before he gets the chance to really tell people on his own terms and learn to love himself, he will never try again.” Eskild pauses and Even blinks at him, trying to absorb all this new information quickly. Eskild starts talking again, but this time, his tone is lighter. “But if you’re just a one night stand, or whatever, you can just forget I said all that.”

“Okay,” Even says meekly. He has no idea how he is supposed to react to that, but Eskild seems satisfied with the answer. Eskild’s eyes roam (a little longer than necessary) over Even’s cotton - covered chest before he looks back up. “Are you wearing my shirt?” Even gulps, still trying to comprehend Eskild’s monologue. He glances down at the shirt he threw on. It’s the same shirt he was wearing yesterday, with the big picture of Jesus on it. “Uh, yeah, it was just in Isak’s room, he lent it to me. I didn’t know it was yours.” Eskild hums and nods, eyes still on his chest, seemingly waiting for Even to say something else.

“Did you, uh, want it back?” Eskild’s eyes snap back up to Even’s as he opens his mouth. He takes a breath to say something, and then seems to reconsider his answer. “Uhm, yeah, actually, if you wouldn’t mind.” Even has been desperately looking for a way to make this situation less awkward, and suddenly sees one. He’s aware of the fact that Eskild likes men and has been checking him out for the past five minutes, so he grabs the neck of the t-shirt and yanks it off of his back. Suddenly he’s standing in only his boxers in the kollektivet bathroom, meeting Isak’s roommate for the first time. He hands the balled up shirt to an open - mouthed Eskild. Even shrugs his shoulders back and stands a little taller, regaining his cool. He flashes a big smile at Eskild and says, “It was really nice meeting you Eskild. I hope I’ll see you around again, yeah? If Isak has me back, that is.” Eskild nods vigorously as he breaks eye contact once more in favor of raking his eyes lower down Even’s body.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be… uh… nice,” Eskild says with glazed eyes. Even offers one last wide, shit - eating grin before sliding past Eskild back into the hallway and into Isak’s room.

His white t-shirt from Friday is still wet, so he finds the blue hoodie he was wearing yesterday and throws it on and zips it up without anything on underneath it. Isak probably won’t miss it, anyway.

He shuffles around Isak’s room for a few minutes until he finds a marker and a scrap of paper. He remembers how Isak thought the comics around his room were funny, and figures a drawing is more personal than shooting him a text, anyway.

He moves to sit in the chair in the corner of Isak’s bedroom, where he sinks down and crosses his ankle over his knee. He props the paper up on his lap, using a biology book that was on the floor as a hard surface. He taps the marker on the paper and chews his lip as he decides what to draw. He feels his subject of choice is appropriate. One panel, a drawing of Isak with a water drop in his throat, represents this universe. The second, another universe where Isak never had the water drop in his throat. If he never sucked at holding his breath, it wouldn’t have turned into a game. If it wasn’t a game, Even wouldn’t have kissed him. If Even didn’t kiss him, he wouldn’t be here, falling in love with a boy he’ll only end up hurting. That’s the better universe, Even thinks. The one where Isak doesn’t get hurt.

Even finishes the quick cartoon, scribbling some Nas lyrics on the top as a half - assed explanation for why he’s gone. He lays it on his Isak’s pillow, gathers his things, and leaves the kollektivet, thankfully without a second run - in with another one of Isak’s roommates. He doesn’t notice Noora sitting on the couch as he flies by her. Eskild’s words ring in his ears.

That kid has been through too much already to add one more person fucking him over to his list.

Notes: sooo basically the idea behind this was to give Even one more reason to pull away other than “I don’t want mentally ill people in my life”. I think that that was just the last straw, but it was things like this that were just making him feel guilty. I think I did Eskild justice!? Also I want to explore Even’s relationship with his mom more because that’s something I think about on a daily basis.

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bob-giovanni · 7 years

Text

A Casual Affair - Part 2

Characters: Simon X OFC

Warnings: Cursing, Eventual Smut, AU/Pre-Apocalypse, Mentions of Illness

Summary: Violet and Simon get to know each other a little better.

Background Music: “Feel It Still” by Portugal the Man

Violet was stirred from sleep by her alarm clock. That little gray box was so evil. Violet groaned and rolled onto her back, wiggling her toes as she stretched her legs. After just laying there staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, Violet finally sat up. She stood and stretched her arms above her head, moaning softly as she felt her tight muscles start to loosen. She walked to the bathroom and turned the water on to warm up. She opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a hair clip. She held the clip with her teeth as she twisted her hair up, clipping it into place. She stripped out of her PJs and stepped into the shower. Violet was exhausted. She’d been up late chatting with her brother Matthew. Violet and Matthew had always been close. He was the only one in her family that seemed to understand her. She spent several hours on the phone with him telling him about what she’d learned about her new employer and the CEO. When she finally got off the phone with him it was nearly 1AM.

Hopefully a shower would wake her up. Violet stood under the water for a few minutes before washing herself. Once she was washed she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She still felt pretty sleepy. Maybe listening to some music and dancing around a bit would help. She wrapped her towel tightly around her body before grabbing her phone and scrolling through her songs. Once she found one she knew she could dance to, Violet clicked the track to play it. She started swaying her hips as the bass line started. “Can’t keep my hands to myself. Think I’ll dust ‘em off, put ‘em back up on the shelf. In case my little baby girl is in need. Am I coming out of left field?” Violet took her towel off and threw it down as the chorus kicked in. “Ooh ooh I’m a rebel just for kicks now. I’ve been feeling it since 1966 now. Might be over now, but I feel it still!” Violet let her hair down and whipped it around as she danced and sang.

Once the song was over Violet felt a little more awake. She let her music keep playing as she dried herself off. Violet walked over to her dresser and pulled out a black bra and a lacy black thong. Once she slipped them one she walked to her closet to pick out an outfit. She pursed her lips and tilted her head as she looked through her clothes. She decided on a navy blue fit and flare style dress that fell just above her knees. She also grabbed a yellow cardigan with a flower sewn on the top left side. Once she was dressed, Violet headed to the kitchen and decided to make herself some breakfast. She dug through the fridge and grabbed what she needed.

While everything was cooking Violet made herself some coffee. She yawned, deciding to drink her coffee black today. She finished cooking her breakfast and sat at the kitchen table to eat. She scrolled through Instagram on her phone, chewing her bottom lip while she decided whether or not she wanted to be a creeper. With a sigh, Violet found Charlotte Scott’s account and looked through her pictures. A few rows down she saw a picture of her and Simon, obviously on their way to an event of some sort as she was wearing a beautiful ball gown and he was in a tuxedo. Violet was a big fan of Charlotte’s. She’d seen nearly every movie she’d ever been in. And she knew that the actress was married and had seen her husband before. When she got the job at Yellow House and did some research on them she just didn’t make the connection. Though, now, Violet was excited at the possibility of getting to meet her acting idol.

Violet finished up her breakfast and quickly washed her dishes before heading back to her bedroom to do her hair and makeup. She simply pulled her hair back into a messy bun before doing very light makeup, deciding to finish her look up with a simple lip gloss. She reached into her closet and pulled out a pair of red wedges that strapped around her ankles. Once she had her shoes on, Violet grabbed her purse and a light jacket just in case her cardigan wasn’t heavy enough before heading out the door and to the train. The ride was thankfully uneventful. It is only Tuesday. Violet wasn’t ready to deal with the early morning drunks yet. She got to her stop and exited the train, heading up the same stairs she used the day before and walking towards her building.

Violet looked at her phone as she approached the building. 7:40AM. She didn’t have to be in until 8AM technically but figured it would make a good impression to get there a little early. She walked up the front steps and entered. There was no one at the receptionist desk yet. Maybe the receptionist simply stepped away for a moment. Violet headed towards the elevator and went up to the 5th floor. Maybe Simon wasn’t in yet and she’d have some time to get settled. She exited the elevator and went to her desk, setting down her jacket and purse. She noticed that there was a pretty large stack of papers and folders on her desk. She jumped a bit when she heard a thud come from Simon’s office. She looked over and noticed that his door was cracked. She took a deep breath and walked to the door, knocking lightly. “Yeah?” She heard that same gruff voice answer. Violet pushed the door open a bit and stepped inside. “Good morning, Simon.” Simon looked up and then looked at his watch, making a surprised face. “Good morning. I left a bunch of stuff on your desk.” Violet nodded. “Yes, I noticed.”

Simon stood and walked to the door, motioning for Violet to follow him. He walked to her desk and picked up some of the papers. “These are notes that I need typed up. E-mail them to me when your done. These papers here are donations. I need the donations logged. You’ll find the file to enter everything on your desktop. Then the folders here need to be organized. You need to make sure all the right paperwork is in them. They’re labeled so you should be able to figure it out. Then you’ll need to take them to the 3rd floor and file them. Oh and…” Simon trailed off and jogged back into his office, returning a moment later with a sheet of paper. “Julia gave me this yesterday. Your credentials to sign into the computer.” Violet took the paper from Simon and smiled softly. “Great. Thank you.”

“Once you’re finished with this stuff I have plenty more folders on the couch in my office. I need them done as quickly as possible. Think you can handle all this?” Violet looked up at Simon and nodded. “It shouldn’t be a problem.” Simon grinned. “Excellent. Well you know where I am if you need me.” Violet nodded as Simon went back to his office and closed the door, leaving a cracked an inch or so. Violet sat at her desk and panicked for half a second before taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. She could do this. There’s nothing to it. “He told you everything you need to do. You can handle this.” Violet said to herself. She signed into the computer, making sure she could open all of the files and folders on her desktop before starting her tasks.

Around noon, Violet finished up with the folders that Simon had left on her desk and she took them to the 3rd floor and filed them away. This all seemed pretty idiot proof. Violet went back upstairs and stepped into Simon’s off. “Just getting some more folders.” Simon looked up from the file he was reading. “Ok, good work.” He looked at his watch and cleared his throat. “You hungry?” Violet looked over at him and shrugged. “I could eat.” Simon nodded and stood. “C’mon, why don’t we go to lunch. We can talk. Nothing scary. If you’re gonna be my assistant we should get to know each other a bit.” Violet chewed her bottom lip for a second and nodded. “Ok, sure.” Simon grabbed his hoodie off the coat rack and walked to his door, pulling it open so Violet could leave first. She went to bottom drawer of her desk and grabbed her purse before following Simon out.

The pair walked down the street to a small cafe at the corner. Simon held the door open for Violet to enter first. She nodded her thanks and walked to an empty table by the window. “Is this ok with you?” She asked. Simon nodded and pulled Violet’s chair out for her. She smiled softly and smoothed out the back of her dress before sitting down. “Thank you.” Simon sat across from Violet and grabbed the menu off the table, handing it to her. “I come here all the time so I know what I want already.” Violet took the menu and looked it over, deciding pretty quickly that she was getting a turkey club and french fries.

A waiter came to their table and took their orders, returning promptly with their drinks, a water for Violet and a beer for Simon. “You allowed to drink on company time?” Violet asked. Simon quirked an eyebrow. “I own the company. I pretty much do what I want.” Violet nodded a bit. There was an awkward silence between the two of them now. Simon was the one who suggested this lunch and there he was, face buried in his phone. After a few minutes Simon finally put his phone away and looked. “So…tell me a little about yourself.” Violet shrugged a bit. “What do you wanna know?” Simon sipped his beer and licked his lips. “Where are you from? What do you do in your spare time? Tell me about your family,”

Violet took a sip of water before speaking. “Well I was born in raised in San Diego. My parents are both corporate lawyers along with three of my brothers. My other brother works for the ACLU. I was salutatorian of my high school class. And I graduated near the top of my class from Tisch. I’ve wanted to live in New York since I was ten years old. That was the first time I came here. Even if I didn’t make it on broadway, just living here was enough motivation for me to actually make the move. In my spare time I watch probably too much TV and too many movies. I love anything with zombies or sharks. I love documentaries and scary movies.”

Simon grinned a bit. “I love scary movies too. I used to hate them when I was younger but in my twenties I just really started to love them.” Violet smiled. “I’ve always loved them. My dad is the one who got me into them. The Exorcist was my first scary movie when I was 6.” Simon laughed softly. “What? That seems like way too young.” “I know! My mom was furious when she found out. But I just loved it so much. Before I moved here my dad and I would get lunch and go to the movies once a month. We’d pick the scariest movie that was showing. Most of the time was spent laughing at the people around us who jumped and screamed.”

Simon smiled softly. He was enjoying the conversation that he and Violet were having. She seemed like a great girl. Simon put his elbows on the table and leaned forward a bit. “What about music? You like music right?” He asked. Violet nodded enthusiastically. “I love music. I listen to it all the time. Especially in the morning when I’m trying to wake myself up.” “What kind of music do you listen to?” Violet smiled at the waiter as he brought their food to the table, thanking him before he walked away. “Rock and alternative mostly. But I’ll listen to anything that sounds good really.”

Simon took a bit of his food and nodded. “Yeah, me too. I love rock though. Especially 80s hair bands.” Violet laughed. “That somehow doesn’t surprise me.” Simon smirked and shook his head. They were silent for several while they ate. After Violet finished her sandwich, she lick her lips before grabbing a napkin and wiping her mouth. Simon stared at Violet as she licked her lips. He quickly looked away when she smiled over at him. “That was delicious. Thank you for bringing me here.” Simon nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I just…I’m sure that Julia told you some things about me. I’m not a monster. I’m just a guy who goes to bat for his clients.”

Violet shook her head. “No, Julia didn’t say anything like that. She said you were eccentric. That’s all. And even if she had said anything like that, I mean I know we just met, but even I can see that you’re definitely not a monster and I hope that I didn’t do or say anything to make you think that I thought that.” Simon smiled softly. “You didn’t, don’t worry. I just don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot. If our working relationship is going to be strong then it’s important that we trust each other. And if I ever say anything that sounds douchey then you have my permission to tell me.” Violet laughed softly. “Ok, deal.”

Simon couldn’t help but notice Violet’s dimples as she laughed. He smiled to himself, snapping himself out of it when the waiter dropped the check off. Violet saw the check and reached for her purse. “I know you are not reaching for money right now.” Simon said as he pulled he wallet out of his pocket. Violet looked over at him. “I just assumed that…” Simon cut her off. “Assume nothing, young lady. This is on me. Well, it’s on the company.” Violet smiled and nodded. “Ok. Thank you, Simon.”

Once the bill was paid Simon sat back and continued sipping his beer. “So…what about friends? You have friends right?” Simon asked Violet. “Yeah, I mean most of my college friends have moved to LA or are busy on Broadway so I don’t see them that often. But a few of them are coming to visit next month and I’m really looking forward to it.” Simon nodded. “Nice.” Violet smiled. “What about you? Where are you from? What is your family like? What do you do in your spare time?” Simon sighed softly. “I’m from Alexandria originally. Born there. Lived there till I was 12. Then my dad got a job on Wall Street and we moved here. I’ve lived here ever since. I don’t really have a lot of spare time to be honest. Between running things here and jetting off to swanky Hollywood parties with my wife, I don’t get too much time to myself unfortunately.”

Violet pouted a bit. “Well that’s not good, I’m sorry to hear that. What about your family? Do they still live here?” Simon thought for a second. The story with his family was complicated and few people knew about his life before he was ‘famous.’ He decided that now wasn’t the time to start down that path. “Ya know, Violet. That is a story for another time.” Violet nodded. “You said my name. Julia said it would take you a while to know my name.” Simon smiled and shrugged. “You seem like good people. I know the names of good people.” Violet blushed lightly. “Oh, wow. Thank you. You seem pretty awesome too.”

Simon grinned and stood. “Shall we head back?” Violet nodded and stood as well, grabbing her purse and sliding the strap over her shoulder. “Yes, we shall.” Simon walked to the door of the cafe and held it open for Violet. They walked dow the street back to the office and got in the elevator, heading back up to their floor. Violet put her purse away and sat at her desk as Simon went back to his office, leaving the door open this time.

Once 5PM rolled around, Violet finished up what she was working on and logged out of her computer. She grabbed her things and walked over to Simon’s office. “Hey, Simon. Do you need anything before I leave?” Simon looked up at her and smiled softly, shaking his head. “I don’t but thank you very much for asking, Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Violet smiled. “Thank you. You have a good night as well.” Violet turned and left. As she walked to the train station she couldn’t help but smile. She had been worried that working for Simon was going to be rough because of his personality or attitude. She assumed that because he was the CEO of this company that he would be a dick. But he was such a nice person and she felt bad for making that assumption. She felt much better after having lunch with him and getting to know him a little and knew that they were getting to along just fine.

Tags: @66psychotic99 @simons-thirst-squad

#Steven Ogg #Simon TWD #Simon the Savior #TWD Fanfiction #Simon X OFC

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atlaswriting · 5 years

Text

My chest clenches something awful and my body floods with hysterics; anger washes over me like blood—deep red and thick. I stare up at Cerise, fingers clamped tightly around the lectern’s edge, white knuckling her speech while my words filter by her practiced lips. I do the only thing I have control over in this moment—the only thing that would annoy her more than my anger—

Sophie’s quick to shout over my mother’s voice, shrieking madly and falling to her knees beside my body. She shakes me hard, for good measure, and she’s yelling for help. Abram’s next, he leans down, scoops up my body and holds me close to his chest while Gigi and security direct him where to go.

When we’re safe behind a set of doors in an employee break room, he sets me down on my feet. “She may explode,” he says, “She might kill you and then explode.”

“Say nice things at my funeral.” I tell him. His laughing fills my ears and it’s almost worth the storm I know that’s coming. I can hear her heels clicking against the floor, her shouts at security—at Sophie, at Gigi—any body is a casualty when Cerise wanted to go to war.

“Donne nous la chambre,” demands Cerise, throwing the door open wide. She stares at Abram until he squeezes by her. She shuts the door and stares at me, jaw tensing. “Must you make everything about you?”

I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a few careful steps in her direction. All my life, Cerise has been untouchable—a Goddess, when she was cut, ichor flowed freely past skin and I envied her. Now, staring at her, I see a woman God has cast out—she ate the apple and the whole damn tree too.

“I guess when you’re using my writing it should be about me.”

Tsking me gently, Cerise doesn’t soften. She lets her hands fall to her hips and laughs, “You get that from me,” she says—almost proudly. “Your need to destroy things, that’s all me. Events, people, yourself.” She laughs again and closes the distance between us. Her hand caresses the side of my cheek—despite my better judgment my head leans into her touch—but just as quick her fingers curl under my chin. “It would be endearing if it wasn’t so infuriating, mon cher.”

“I’m not like you at all.”

“Tell me—how are you and Jason?” She releases my chin. I take steps away from her and though my body begins to shudder, Cerise stands still as a statue.

“Why did you do this? The recording… my poems—why did you want to hurt me?” I ask, vulnerability peaking through like a cruel second skin, “Don’t you want me to be happy?”

Rolling her eyes, Cerise sighs, “You weren’t happy with Jason, I was doing you a favor. You were being selfish. Brothers, Elise? Not even I’ve been so terrible.” She throws her hands up, “Why should you be happy?” She yells—my mother didn’t yell. She never needed to. “Simon and I were perfectly fine until you forced your way here.”

I want to hide my hurt with a laugh, but that quickly turns to an uncontrolled sob. “He was never happy with you, Cerise!” I shout, “He wanted Anais. The entire time, it was Anais. Don’t you get that? You were just a warm body until she turned eighteen.” I watch as her face contorts demonic. Brows rising and lips pressed so tightly together they were nearly non-existent. “Just like Malachi. Do you think he actually wants you? God no. You’re a placeholder because Emilia is dead. He has to close his eyes just to fuck you because you aren’t who he wants to be fucking.” I’m silenced with a resounding slap to my cheek. Her hand rears back for a second hit but is caught by Anais who opened the door and rushed into the room mid-yell. She holds Cerise back while she shouts at me in French, words I’ve never learned.

Bodies pile into the room just then, adrenaline leaving just as quickly as it came—the high no longer holding me up I want to fall into a heap of bones on the floor.

“Let’s go,” Abram says against my ear.

I shake my head, “I’d rather be alone.” Moving past him, I walk into the hallway where Sophie pushes herself off a wall. “I don’t want to right now, Soph.”

She shakes her head, sliding her arm around my waist and leading me down the hall. “I don’t care. I’m going with you.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Sophie and I drink in her room until my body was so numb I could no longer feel my war drum heart beat tirelessly against my ribcage. The bruises on the inside my ribs no longer hurt and my mother was a thought my mind couldn’t finish.

“You aren’t walking back by yourself,” Sophie slurs, holding onto my arms and pushing me back onto her bed, “Just stay here tonight.”

I shake my head, fighting against her, “No. I want to be in my bed.”

A knock at the door stops our struggle and Abram squeezes through the crack in the door, “What are you doing here?” We ask in unison.

“Uh,” he pulls out his phone, “Sophie texted me a half hour ago.”

I glare at her, “I’m perfectly capable of walking back myself.” Forcing myself to stand, I do my best to walk toward the door—but a fawn had more stability than me and I catch myself on the wall. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Rolling his eyes he grabs my elbow, “Evidently you do. Let’s go.”

Trying to fight against Abram’s stronghold was impossible, so I give up and follow him. “We aren’t going back to my room.” I say. The soft whites and pinks from the girl’s dormitory fade to greens and grays of the boys. “Are you kidnapping me?”

“I’d rather you didn’t asphyxiate on your own vomit tonight.” He pushes the room to his door open and then pushes me inside. “You can wear my shirt. I pulled out a set of boxers too.”

I shake my head. Slipping out of my dress, Abram turns at the lack of clothing and I can’t help but laugh, “You’ve seen me with less on.” I reach for his shirt and pull it over my head, tossing the boxers on the floor. Pulling back his covers, I lay closest to the wall, “Does your floor monitor check your bedrooms?” I ask, “Ours does.”

“I don’t think so.” He takes off his hoodie, leaving his shirt and climbs into the bed beside me.

It’s dark in his room and Abram’s so close goosebumps prick my skin. I turn and face him, pressing my body against his. “I hope you’re not mad because I didn’t want to leave with you earlier.” He shakes his head. My hands roam his body; over his chest and down to his waist. “I’m glad you came back for me,” alcohol forces candor past my mouth. I lean up and kiss him, the need burning through me like a fever.

“Elise,” he says between kisses. I crawl on top of him, moving my lips down his neck, “You’re drunk, this isn’t right.”

I pick up my head, “Drunk things are sober… whatever. You get what I’m trying to say.”

I tighten my legs around his hips and I hear a sharp intake of breath. “I don’t want to do it like this.”

Stopping, I look up at him—thankful for the darkness, he can’t see all my ugly, “But I love you.”

Abram grips my waist firmly, “You’re drunk,” he says again.

“Drunk or not—Abram, I love you.”

“It doesn’t mean anything if you won’t remember this tomorrow.”

“You’ll remember.”

“God damn it, Elise.”

“Abram!” I lean over and turn the desk lamp on, “What is your—,” I stop mid-sentence, the scene before me wasn’t what I expected and it sobers almost immediately.

The purple and red bruising around his lips extends down his throat; dried blood sits in the corner of his mouth. I reach for the neck of his shirt but he tries to pull me away. I push at his hands and pull back the shirt. The bruising was new and I throw myself off of him.

“Abram did Malachi…”

He stands, picks the hoodie up of the floor and pulls it back on. “Jason and me, yeah.”

“Because of…”

“No.” He walks over to me and grabs my hands. “Not because of you—because he’s a sadist.”

Sick rises up my throat and I rush into Abram’s bathroom, tonight’s bad choices empty into the toilet and only when I’m sure I’m done, I stand.

“This is what’s going to happen if we—this is what happens when I love somebody.” He tries to speak but I hold my hand up. I rush around him, collecting my dress and replacing his shirt with it. “This is what happens—Cerise said I was just like her and she was right.” I look back at Abram, “We can’t… I can’t…” I don’t say anymore, I leave the room—ignoring his protests, ignoring the gaping wound in my chest that still hasn’t healed.

My body falls apart as soon as the door to my room closes, I fall between sheets reaching for my phone I dial the only person I know who can help me—the only one I can’t possible destroy. “Ellie?”

She mumbles something—and then sits up, “What’s wrong?”

“It happened again. We need to do it.”

#thread: ablise #thread: all

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theultraknight · 7 years

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The Guard Chapter 2 Meet the girl of stone

The next morning, Caesar is in his room training. Throwing punch, after punch, after punch at the air. Then turns starts to do the same with kicks, til he hears a knock on his bedroom door. "Caesar, can I come in?"

Caesar jumps onto his bed and, grab a book. "Yeah."

His mom walks in. "I wanted to check on you, I heard a noise coming from here, a couple of minutes ago."

Caesar flashes back to a few minutes ago when, one of his kicks knocked over a lamp. "Just knocked over my lamp."

"Oh okay, well how was school yesterday?"

"Uneventful." Caesar keeps his eyes glued to his book.

His mother asks hopefully. "Did you talk to anyone?"

"Yeah, two actually."

Caesar's mom face lit up. "Really, who were they, what did you talk about?"

"They're both new to school, I meet them in the library and we talked for a little."

His mom suggests excitedly. "Why don't you invite them over?"

"I don't know them that well." When will his mom learn he likes being a loner.

"But could you?" His mother said with a pleading look.

"Yeah mom, I'll ask." His said, and she smiles.

"Thank you, now you better finish getting ready, we leave soon."

"Okay, I'll be down in a minute." His mom leaves the room and, closes the door. Caesar falls backwards onto his bed. Covering his face with his hands. Thinking to himself, how did he go, from a bookworm, to leading a double life, in less than twenty four hours. He gets off his bed stands up. "Okay time to get ready, and save the world." He lets out a deep breaths and, goes to his closet.

Meanwhile on Jacob's farm. The blind teen is carrying a tray food into the barn. "Medusa are you here?"

"Yes." The green girl said in a hushed tone. Jacob cane in hand, follows the sound of medusa's voice. He sits down, and places the tray of food on the floor.

"Here eggs, bacon, toast and orange juice, you should try the eggs first my mom makes the best eggs." Jacob takes the fork picks up a piece of eggs and, hands it to Medusa who stare at it unsure. "I promise they're amazing." Jacob said with a smile.

Medusa takes the fork, and a bite. "Good?" he asks her.

Medusa nods, but remembers Jacob can't see. "Yes, they're quite good."

"So did your mother really liked Greek mythology?" When Medusa hears the word mother, an image of Mother Earth appears in her head. "Medusa you still with me?"

"Yes." "Okay I was trying to be sly asking about your mom, I hoped you would tell me why you're hiding here?" "I ran away." "From home?"

Medusa thinks back to the moment, Dr. Eisner and, his excavation team found her tomb. The images of people turning to stone, and the sounds of their screams filling her mind. "You could call it that."

"Why'd you run?" He asked. "I was scared, and I wanted to be free."

"Scared, and free of what?"

Medusa doesn't say a word. She removes her eyes from Jacob, and just stares at the ground.

"You can trust me Medusa." "..." Jacob sighs. "Okay I have chores to do, be back in a few." He gets up.

"Have you ever been trapped because of something you couldn't control?" Medusa asked.

"Like?" He asked out of intrigue, and confusion by her question.

"Anything." Medusa said. "Yeah, I've spent every moment of my life on this farm, I know everything inch of this farm, like right here." He steps on a floorboard which makes a squeaky sound.

"That's how you can move around like you can see."

"Took me some time but, now I know everything inch of this place, from the squeaky floorboard, to the way each piece of wood feels, to the differences in the same kind of animals' voices, after a while it's becomes second nature."

"So you know what it feels like to be trapped in a place, and to feel like you're suffocating and, that all that you want is to be free."

"From the moment i was born my mom and dad have been trying to protect me and they have, so yeah sometimes it feels like that, but also I love this place, it's my home, and i wouldn't trade it for anything, and sometimes I have to remind myself that, isn't there something you love about your home?"

She said easily. "No." She never wants to see that tomb again.

"What about people you love, they can be home just as much as a place?"

A memory comes flooding back to Medusa. "My child, you are one of my most beautiful creations, you were made to protect all beings, never forget that."

"But why do I hurt people?" A crying child Medusa asks.

"When something is born into this world no one not even I know what it's will end up being, but I know that anything can bring pain and suffering, or joy and happiness, it just depends on how it's used, do you understand child?"

"I think I do." Little Medusa says wiping tears from her eyes.

"I love you, you know that right?"

"Yes I do, i love you too mother." Medusa said with a smile.

Medusa's thoughts change to another memory of her in the tomb, and the lid being put on. "Please I don't want to go to sleep." A tearful Medusa says.

Mother Earth said in a somber voice. "I'm sorry, but this is the only option for you and, everyone else to be safe, I really didn't think it would end this way." Then fully closes the tomb.

"No, let's me out, please mother mother please, don't do this!" Medusa screams before she is overcome in a green mist, and falls into a deep slumber.

"Medusa, Medusa!" 'What?" "You spaced out again."

"Oh, um yes, oh your question yes, but I don't think they want me."

"Well you said you think why don't you find out for sure." That question is answered with silence.

"Hey why don't you help me with chores?" "No I can't." "I could use the help and, you need to stop hiding, you're not really free if you go from being trapped in one place to trapped another."

"Jacob!" A voice yelled. "Coming mom!" He turns to Medusa. "I gotta go."

Medusa looks at the wall behind Jacob, and notices a hoodie and, a bandana hangs on a rack. "Jacob, I'll do it."

Jacob grins. "Okay, I'll be right back." As he walks away, Medusa goes to the rack. She picks up the hoodie, and bandana. And looks at them, unsure if she just made a good decision.

"Hey guys wait up!" Amore shouted running towards Caesar and Dillon.

"What took you so long?" Caesar asked. "I had to beg my mom to let me go today, after what happened yesterday."

"What, was she afraid it would happen again?" Dillon asked. "Pretty much." She replied.

"Whatever you're here now is all that matters, now let's hurry, and meet Mother Earth." Caesar says.

When the school bell starts to ring. "Well I guess we'll have to meet up with Mother Earth later." Dillon said.

"I still don't get why she couldn't just tell us what we're up against earlier." Caesar remarked.

"She said, she wanted to tell all of us together." Amore says.

As they take their seats, a white guy in his twenties walks in front of a desk and speaks. "Hi I'm Simon Gregory, but you can call me Simon, I'll be your teacher this semester, and I hope that we can have a great semester, but before we get started I'd like to welcome your new classmates, Dillon King and Bella Amore Valentine." He said pointing to them.

They wave hello to the rest of the class. "Well now that introductions are over, let's get down to business." Mr. Gregory said.

"So can you believe it, we have superheroes in our town?" a student says. Peaking our heroes' attention.

"Stopping a couple of bank robbers doesn't make them heroes." Another student says.

Hearing that our heroes faces change. Amore's turns a little sad. Caesar's somewhat annoy. Dillon straight out anger.

"Well I think anyone who saves people's lives is a hero." Dillon said.

Amore and Caesar stare, at him afraid he'll say something he's not supposed to.

"Whatever, I give them a week before everyone forgets about them."

While the group continues class. Medusa remains unsure if leaving the barn, is a wise idea.

Jacob walks in. "Medusa you ready to go?"

"Yes." Medusa responds. She puts the bandana over her eyes, already wearing the hoodie she saw earlier. She stands next to Jacob, and links her arm in his. "Lead me the way."

Surprise is evident on Jacob's face. "That's the first time someone's said that to me."

"You said you know this place so well, show me."

Jacob smiles at her. "Okay let's go." A minute or two later at a pig pen.

The pigs start oinking as soon as Jacob and Medusa arrive. "So are you happy to see me, or do you just smell your food?" Jacob asks with a chuckle. "You want to do the honor?" Jacob asks Medusa.

"Huh?" she says. "Feed the pigs, here." He hands her the bucket of food.

Medusa whom vision is impaired by the bandana. Feels around for the pen until she feels wooden spoke, and proceeds to pour the bucket in.

Pig line up side by side and chow down on their breakfast. The loud oinking of the pigs triggers a memory of when she was a little girl looking at wild pigs from afar.

"Medusa!" Medusa snaps out of her daze. "You spaced out on me again."

"Sorry." "No need to apologise, what were you thinking about anyway?"

"About how I used to watch so much many wild animals like pigs, deer, birds, they were all so beautiful."

A smile crept up Jacob's face. "That sounds great."

"It was." Medusa said thinking of all the joy watching the animals brought her as a child.

"So you're from the country?" He asked. "No, a forest." "That must had been nice."

"It was, even though it got lonely, I would sometimes pretend the animals were my friends as I watched them, I even gave them names." She said with fondness and sadness in her voice.

"I may not be a pig or a deer, but I like to think I could be a friend." Jacob said. Medusa just stands there not sure what to say.

"We should get moving, still have a lot of work to do." He said.

"Yeah." As they walk off, a familiar aura rushes over her. "What is this feeling, I know I've felt it before but, I can't remember where?" She thinks to herself.

Back at Moss City High. Our heroes are in the back of the library, waiting for Mother Earth to show up. "What's taking Mother Earth so long?" Caesar asked himself.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be here any minute, I mean if anything was wrong we know it, since she's the earth." Dillon said chewing his ham and cheese sandwich.

Caesar just looks at him sloppily eating, and falls back into his chair.

"Do you think we cut out for this, I mean we don't really know what we're doing, or what we're up against?" Amore asked the boys.

"Is this about the guy from earlier, Don't listen to him, he doesn't know what he's talking about, we're heroes." Dillon responded.

"I know we're heroes, but I just wonder if we're super-heroes." Amore clarified. "We're both, right Caesar?" Dillon asked.

Caesar who's laying back in his chair. Stoically responds with. "It doesn't matter really, we're doing this to protect people, not be superheroes, and as for if we can handle this, I have no idea, we won't know till we have to face whatever it is."

At that moment Mother Earth materializes. "I found her." she announced.

"Who?" Caesar, asked quite confused. "Medusa." She responded.

"What!" they exclaimed. "You mean snakes for hair and petrifying people?" Amore said astonished. "How is that even possible?" Caesar asked.

Mother Earth spoke with a heavy and strong voice. "I made it possible, all I wanted was to protect all earthlings, but I only put them in more danger, it started millennia ago, I saw so much strife and suffering, and thought I could stop everyone from feeling any unnecessary pain, so I used the magic that gave me sentient to bring my guardians to life, Medusa was the youngest, I still remember the innocent look on her face when she was born, and innocent she was, but I had no idea the power she possessed, within her first hours of her existence, a bird flew over her, only to take one look, and a second later fall to ground, shattering into pieces of rock, it never occurred to me that one of my guardians could have such an ability, but from that moment on I hid her away from everyone, she never really understood why, I told her of her power and how dangerous it was, but she was a child and still couldn't wrap her head around it, and so one day she ran off to watched the children of a village play, she was hidden from sight covered by the trees, until a dog ran up to her, and fell victim to her gaze, then a boy who went looking for his dog and, stumble upon him and Medusa, he screamed before being turned to stone, Medusa was so terrified she froze in place, she had never before experienced the harm she could bring to others, by the time I realized what was happening, half of the village were stone, and Medusa was just sitting there her arms wrapped around her legs, her head buried in knees sobbing, once I calmed her down her first words to me were.

"I didn't mean to hurt anyone, I was just didn't want to be by myself anymore." "I know, I will fix this."

"And did the only thing I thought could, a tomb buried deep I sealed with magic and, her in it, I hated to doing it but, it was the best option at the time, and for over twenty five hundred years the world was safe from her, until an archaeologist and his team found her, unwittingly freeing her, and bringing themselves to their doom, now you must return her to the tomb before she cause anymore harm."

"Well that was something." Dillon said overwhelms by what he just heard.

"How are we supposed to stop someone who can turn us to stone?" Amore asked.

"Your guard armor will protect you." Mother Earth responded.

"Okay well it shouldn't be that hard to put twenty five hundred year old monster back in her tomb." Dillon said confidently.

"When she entered the tomb she was placed in a form of stasis, it preserved her, and slowed her aging to the point where, for every five hundred years she slept, she aged a year mentally and physically, so she is about your age, and Dillon make no mistake this girl is no monster, she has no ill intentions, but she be must contained." Mother Earth explained.

The bell rings signaling lunch is over. "We have to go." Amore says.

"It appears Medusa won't be leaving her hiding place anytime soon, you can deal with her later." Mother Earth assured.

As everyone gathers their things, Caesar spoke. "Mother Earth you said you created guardians." "Yes." "Where are the rest?"

"Long gone I'm afraid, I failed them, I tried to make them heroes, but you three chose to be, and that's why you will succeed."

The three look at each other, and smiles at Mother earth's words. And as they walk off Mother Earth's ethereal body dissipates.

Fast-Forward A few hours later, school lets out, and the teens walk to the back of the school building. "The coast is clear." Dillon says.

"Ready?" Caesar asks. Amore and Dillon nod. Together they call out. "Guard." Each is enveloped in a different colored glow, Amore pink, Caesar black and Dillon white. A clink is heard, as those glows turn to armor.

Mother Earth appears, holding a green ball of light. "Follow this light, it will lead you to Medusa." She throws the light into the air, and it flies off.

The Guard chase after it. Amore levitating, Dillon with eagle wings, and Caesar with jet wings. "Good luck my children." Mother Earth watches them take off.

Back on Jacob's farm. Jacob and Medusa are walking, and the latter trips over a rock. But since their arms are linked, Jacob is able to keep her from falling. "Whoa, you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah just a little clumsy." Medusa lied. "Can you see?" Jacob asked abruptly. "What?" Medusa said in shock and fear.

"Can you see, you've been attached to me the whole time, and this isn't the first time you've almost fallen or ran into something today?"

"I'm just really clumsy, I never look where I'm going." She hoped he would believe that.

"Okay well, my mom usually has made something by now, so I'm gonna get us some food, be right back." Before Jacob can make a footstep. Our heroes descend from the sky.

Medusa took a step back. "Who are you?"

Dillon with his fist on his sides, standing like a wannabe Superman and says. "We're the Guard, and you're coming with us."

"What?" Said an utterly confused Jacob.

"I'm not going back, you can't make it." Medusa said.

Dillon would beg to differ. "Actually we can, see you can't turn us to stone when we're wearing this armor, and last time I checked our superpowers will work on you, so make this easy for the both of us and surrender."

"Did you just say turn to stone?' Jacob asked.

"Yeah couldn't you tell, wait why are you blindfolded?" The last part Dillon directed at Medusa.

"You seriously don't think she's the Medusa from greek legend, you're insane?"

Medusa pulls her bandana off. "Jacob could you leave please?" She asks.

"No, do you even know these guys, I'm not leaving you with them."

Suddenly Dillon has moved over to Medusa at accelerated speed, and with animal strength he prepares to pick her up. But before he can. The push of Medusa's hand, sends him flying. Dillon lands a few feet away with a thud.

"Jacob what was that, is everything okay out there?!"

"Don't worry mom, everything's fine!" Oh how he wished that it was.

"Medusa we need to leave now!" "I'm sorry Jacob, but I can't do that, I have to face this myself."

Amore and Caesar run to Dillon's side. "Dillon you okay?" Amore asked.

"Yeah I'm fine." He grunts, trying to pull himself up. "She's really strong."

"Can't we solve this without fighting?" Amore pleads to Medusa. "Yes leave and, never come back." The latter answers.

Caesar tells them. "I'm gonna end this." Thinking of the periodic table, he focuses on the Fe symbol.

Placing the palms of his hands forward, wisps of energy swirl around his hands, and bars of iron form around Medusa.

But before the iron cage can finish shaping. Medusa grabs the bars, and pulls with all her strength bending them, and steps out. "Go." She demands.

"I don't know how we can stop her." Caesar proclaims. "Can't we talk about this?" Amore asked Medusa. Amore hopes to solve this without violence.

"I said everything I that needed to."

"Fine." Saddened by Medusa reluctant, but Amore is determined nevertheless. She levitates herself into the air. From her hands a pink energy emanates. Surrounds Medusa, forming an orb around her.

Right then Jacob following the sound of Medusa's voice, walks to her. Landing himself trapped in the luminescent sphere alongside her.

Medusa pounds her fists on the sphere of energy. Causing the energy to ripple.

Jacob hears Medusa's hits, and reaches his hand out to feel the barrier. "Medusa what is this?"

"A magical barrier." She told him. "Medusa I'm being serious." He said back.

"So am I, everything they said is true, and if you don't want me around I'll leave, but right now I need to get out of this thing." She said then, continues her assault on the barrier.

"Amor..." "Pink." Caesar interrupted Dillon. The latter whom gave him a look.

"Secret identities, remember?" Caesar explained.

"Oh yeah, pink can you free that Jacob guy?" He asked.

"I don't think I can without releasing both of them, I'm not sure if matters, cause if she keeps hitting the sphere it's gonna break." She said struggling to maintain said sphere.

"I don't know what else we can do to stop her." Caesar said.

"Maybe we can tire her out." Dillon suggests.

"Guys." Amore called out. That moment the barrier shattered. Creating a shockwave knocking everyone to the ground.

As everyone is recovering from the blow, Dillon is the first to stand. He stumbles as he takes a step forward.

"God twice in a row." He remarked. "Wait." Amore pleads. "She's down I can stop her." He assures, thinking he's won.

"Let's work together." Caesar tells him, but is ignored.

Dillon charges at Medusa. Who just stood up. With the momentum of his running and her strength. Medusa is able to grab his hand, and flips him. Tearing his armored glove off. As Medusa does so, she loses her footing.

Sending both of them to the ground. Caesar and, Amore who are finally up start to run over to them.

Dillon refusing to give up latches his armorless hand onto Medusa's shoulder. Before he can make his next move though. One of her snakes strikes.

Dillon cries out in pain. His hand begins to petrify.

#the guard #writing #creative writing #fantasy #adventure #action #wattpad #tapas #fiction #wattys2017

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