#but my heart did melt a little bit at the thought of simon looking after children (despite the fact i don't want kids myself) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thexsilentxwordsmith · 8 months

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Simon has one favorite piece of clothing you wear and of course when he's having a rough day, you just have to wear it for him.

Simon was all stress and tension, tight shoulders, furrowed brows, and pursed lips. He had just come back from deployment and had not fully decompressed yet, having a harder time of it this go around. Usually a day was all it took to get him to slough off the burdens of his job, yet this was day two and he was still not feeling himself. You wanted to do something to help him release all that pent up emotion, and you knew just how to do it.

Something that he just couldn't resist.

At the front of your closet you found it, his current favorite piece of clothing you owned: a flirty little floral number that he had bought last time he was in. The moment he saw that dress on you after having spotted it sitting on that rack in the store, the way it hugged your curves like it was made specifically for your body, he knew you could not go home without it.

The fabric was soft, cut incredibly short, and low cut enough in the front that it left barely anything to the imagination... exactly what you needed it to do.

You slipped it on, the only thing you slipped on, and headed back out to the living room where he sat in the oversized cushioned seat idly messing around with his hands as some show played in the background on the TV.

As you casually stepped into the room, his eyes fixated on you as you walked closer towards him, a little extra sway in your hips as you moved.

Squatting down to your knees before him with your hands splayed across his thighs for leverage, you kept his gaze locked within your own as you pushed open his legs a bit more so you could crawl between them and into his lap. You arched your back as you moved up until you were able to wrap your arms around his shoulders, your breasts pressing against his chest.

"Hi," you smiled playfully. With gentle fingertips you combed your fingernails through his scalp at the back of his head while you rocked your lower half lazily back and forth between his legs to keep your knees from getting stiff.

Those brown eyes began to sparkle back to life.just as they always did whenever you were around. "Hi back," he smirked; it was clear that you were up to something, though he didn't know what yet. "And just what do ya think you're doin', luv?"

You shook your head back and forth. "Nothing," you said, feigning innocence by diverting your eyes coyly before looking back. "Just thought I'd look nice for you is all."

You had peaked his interest and he raised a strong brow as his hands found your hips. "Is that why you have this thing on?" he asked, pulling at the fabric of your dress. "Cause you've got my attention; you know how much I fuckin' love that little thing."

"Exactly why I put it on," you smiled. "Maybe I'm trying to take all your attention, make you forget all your cares."

That one line made his cold heart skip a beat; you were always doing little things like that to please him and fucking hell did he enjoy it. Simon's hand captured your chin in its grasp suddenly and he firmly pulled your face into his so that he could press a kiss to your soft, moist, inviting lips. It was instaneous the way he melted into you, his shoulders relaxing the moment your lips met, as if everything else in the room had desolved except for you and him.

"God, you are a pretty fuckin' thing, aren't you, sweetheart?" he breathed against your mouth. "Always remindin' me how fuckin' lucky I am."

He released your chin and moved down to your back where his fingertips drug across the length of your spine down all the way to your ass and back again is slow rotations.

"Mmmm..." you hummed into his sculpted shoulder as you rested your head there while he touched you.

Shit like that made the ice he built around his heart to keep him sane during missions melt. "You like that, yeah?" he asked with a smirk as his rough hands traveled down lower until he got to the curve of your ass where he cupped it in both of his hands.

"Aren't wearing any panties?" he said with surprise as he cradled your bare bottom covered just slightly by the very edge of the dress hem before he slid his hand under the fabric to massage the bare skin. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart."

You chuckled as his touch sent shivers up your back. "Thought maybe you'd want to play with me, if you aren't busy that is," you said against the crook of his neck before your lips connected repeatedly with the flesh there as you held the side of his head against your palm. "Why don't you let me help you unwind?"

Jesus Christ how in the hell was he supposed to say no to that? His touch became more greedy and firm in response to your offer. "You keep sayin shit like that luv," he growled, "and I might just have to fuck you until my mind is empty and your legs are numb. Come on, come 'ere."

Offering his open hand, Simon pulled you up so that he could move you into his lap so you could sit on top of those full thick thighs. Your perky breasts sitting up high in the front of the dress hit his vision, immediately making his head woozy. "This, this right here is already making me forget every fuckin' thing."

It had been a hot minute since you had been showered in his unique brand of flattery and you couldn't help the warm, red flush that flood your cheeks at his words. You turned your head, embarrassed that even after all this time you'd been together he could still make you blush.

"Don't you look away now sweetheart; you just keep looking at me with those pretty eyes. Don't gotta be shy 'round me," he purred as he guided your head back, "not when I'm about to have that pretty little dress layin' on the ground. Or maybe... shit, I'll just fuck you in it."

Again you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him close. "Whatever you want," you said. "Use me."

Damn, you did always know the right words to say to make him come alive. "You are just too fuckin' good to me, luv," he sighed.

He was a lucky, lucky man indeed.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simin ghost riley #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost #ghost modern warfare #ghost mwii #simon riley x you

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pricesbeltbuckle · 3 months

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One more request 😛😍

What if Simon's girlfriend is a bit clingy and one day he comes home and snaps at her.

How would he react seeing her in tears (the kind that breaks his heart and not the ones that he makes her cry during sex.)?

Ah, please make it full of angst and fluff!

❤️❤️❤️❤️

I'm so sorry - Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some NSFW mentions?,Angst,Hurt/Comfort,Fluff 18+

He didn’t mean to, really he didn’t. But things happen.

He was just in a bad mood and you just so happened to be in a good one, he was sorry he really was

So when he came home after a long day, and you just cling to him like a goddamn child? He just lost it.

“Oh my fucking god, won’t you just get the hint to leave me alone? Jesus christ.” He yelled at you, while you clung onto his arm everywhere he went around the house.

But then he looked down at your face, tears welling in your eyes as you let go of him and just walked away to the bathroom.

“Wait lovie I-” “No it’s fine Simon. I got the hint now go be alone.”

Shit! You called him his full name, and that’s how he knew he fucked up. That and the sound of the bathroom door slamming and you sniffling.

God, he’s seen you cry plenty…Never from being sad always from pleasure he brought you or if you saw something cute and got a little too happy.

But this feeling he now had was straight guilt. He felt awful.

He knocked on the bathroom door, “Sweetheart, come out please I’m sorry I just had a long day-” “Go away Simon leave me alone! I’m giving you your time!” So you obviously didn’t wanna speak to him.

He sighed and thought about what to do, he never has been around someone who’s cried over him before…Besides people he was about to kill on missions but that's besides the point.

So he did what he could, he left the house and bought you flowers and your favorite fast food.

And when he came back home to see you now on the couch, still clearly upset he held out the food and flowers and watched how you smiled a little and walked over to him.

“What’s all this?” “Part of my apology.” he wiped some stray tears from your face and continued on to give you an apology,

“Sweetheart, you are truly one of a kind. I’m so deeply sorry I hurt your feelings and yelled at you baby. I had a very long day but that doesn’t mean I should take it out on the one girl whom I love the very most. I’m sorry and I hope you forgive me lovie.”

And seeing you look at him in admiration as he held your hands and spoke made his heart melt, you then cupped his cheek and kissed his chapped lips.

“Of course I forgive you, let's eat the food before it gets cold, handsome.” and he followed in pursuit after you to the living room, “Good I’m starving and we can watch whatever you want baby.”

You put on your favorite reality show he pretended to hate but then he would add some commentary and get really interested in it, and you guys would eat your food.

And this is how most arguments were resolved, and if not this way then you were on your back as he mumbled sweet praises and sorrys into your pussy as he ate like a starved man.

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themurderofcrowscollective · 8 months

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@cod-dump I bringeth you my personal batch of teen Ghost and Soap stuff cause your AU is fucking golden Valentine's Day

So the love for Soap that has been brewing in Ghost for a good while is nearly at it's fullest, and dare I say it, he's actually planning on asking him to be his valentine. One issue though, Ghost is as anxious as can be. He has spent night and day fantasizing over Soap ever since they met, trying to fight his own feelings but ultimately accepting them as they are. So one day after school, Ghost decides to talk to his dad. And I shit you not, Price wasn't prepared for this just like Ghost when he asked the question " Dad, what- I- fucking hell- Okay I have a crush on Soap and I'm sure you know this but how do I ask him to be my valentine? " Now mind you, Price always thought he would never see the day where Ghost comes to him for relationship advice so he nearly spits out his coffee when he's asked that but he composes himself and leans back in his chair. " Well... when it came to my first crush, I had asked him what kind of flower he liked and on Valentine's day, I asked him to be my valentine with his favorite flower in my hand. " Ghost giggled a bit. " Was it Nik? " He stopped giggling when Price looked at him with a 'really?' look on his face. Anyways, Ghost said thanks for the advice and decided to do just that so the next day at school, just near the lockers, Ghost mustered up the courage to talk to Soap. " Hey Soap, I got a question. " " Hi Ghost, what's up? " Ghost felt a lump in his throat as he tried speaking. " Hypothetically, uh... if someone was to be interested in you and asked you what flower you l-like, what- uh- what would you tell them? H-Hypothetically! " Ghost really tried to not act like a total dweeb about it but when Soap laughed, his heart fluttered and he could feel the blush crawl up onto his cheeks. After the laughter that sent Ghost's heart soaring, Soap finally answered. " I like orchids, Simon. " That really did it for Ghost, being called Simon made him weak in the knees and his heart melted. Before he got lost staring into Soap's pretty eyes, he snapped back to reality. " Orchids, got it. Um. S-See you then. " The whole day he couldn't focus on anything, sneaking his phone and looking up places that sell orchids in class. His usual attitude in school was mostly just him being by himself and occasionally picking on Gaz but today he had his head in the clouds. Even Gaz noticed when he approached Ghost during lunch, he was so absentminded that Gaz had to be a little shit and kept asking random questions all of which Ghost mindlessly said 'mhm' or 'yep' as he looked at Soap from across the cafeteria.

As soon as they get home, Gaz immediately yells " DAAAAAD, GHOST IS BROKEEEEN!! " which alarms Price a bit as he approaches the two. " In what way? " Gaz points at Ghost who's in a lovestruck daze. He waves his hand in front of Ghost's eyes who looks at him and giggles a bit before saying " Soap likes orchids. " " Uh oh. " " What? " Gaz tilts his head. " Ghost is in love, not a single thought is behind those eyes. " The next few days, Ghost had been doodling in his private journal and learned how to draw an orchid so once he had enough money to buy stuff, he didn't go to the store he usually went to for snacks or drinks, he made a different turn and headed to this nice flower shop he has visited before. It's his secret favorite place. After talking with the shop clerk and buying a bouquet of orchids, Ghost was really excited and his plan was set in motion. Honestly, Gaz couldn't ruin the excitement for Ghost so he just listened to Ghost's rambles of Soap and for once, didn't tease him. On Valentine's Day, the day that Ghost's been excited for, he decided to wear something decent and had kept the bouquet fresh and watered. As he entered school, looking at the decorations that's been hung up during the weekend, he felt a pat on his shoulder from Gaz which meant 'best of luck bro'. He could feel his heart pounding as he searched for Soap, finding him near the lockers yet again with a gift box in his hand. Holding the bouquet close to him and clearing his throat, Ghost went for it. " Um... Johnny? " Soap turned around quickly, he never thought how good his name sounded when Ghost said his name. " Oh hi Simon, um... happy valentine's day. " " Y-You too, uh... listen, I... got you these. " He awkwardly hands Soap the bouquet, enjoying the sight of his eyes widening and his smile getting bigger as he accepts the bouquet. Before he forgot though, Simon fidgeted with his mask as he spoke. " Johnny, would... would you like to go out with m-me? On a date? " Johnny blushed deeply as he stammered his words, " Y-Yeah! S-Sure, uh... I thought you'd n-never ask. " Your honor, these boys are too cute for their own good. Before class started though, Johnny handed Simon the gift box which had a charm of a ghost attached to a chain and also; a small kiss on the cheek. Simon blue-screened after that, blushing even more redder than a tomato. (more to be added, damn you word limit)

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saintship · 9 months

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hi!! idk if u still take requests and i also don't know if ur comfortable writing about depression and suicidal thoughts/ideations? it's comforting reading someone have someone be there for them during those times so if u could write something with ghost like that i would absolutely appreciate it, love ur writing, xoxo!! 💕

I’ve been there, I hope you’re having a good day when you’re reading this, no matter what that looks like for you<3

Made reader a medic because I love the medic reader trope more than some family members

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, panic attacks, nightmares

Save you - Ghost x Reader

“MEDIC! WE NEED MEDIC NOW! FUCKING HELL!”

You were trapped—rain pelting at your head while your body remained pinned under a pile of building debris. The pressure on your chest was too heavy to speak, but you saw them in the distance. Price leaning over Simon. Blood seeping into the grooves of the wet pavement. Tears welled in your eyes as you reached with one arm, your vision spotting.

“MEDIC! PLEASE, PLEASE, WE NEED A MEDIC!”

You managed to emit a noise;

“No..”

“NO!”

You sat up, your back prickling with a cold sweat. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe,

“I can’t breathe..”

The weight next to you rose, strong arms cradling your waist. You tensed, your heart pounding. “I can’t breathe.. please..” you hiccuped, drawing breath roughly.

“You can. Listen to me.” Simon’s voice cut through the darkness, his hands running up and down your side. “Listen. Feel my hands.. hear my voice.”

His voice was bleary with sleep, only furthering the tears spilling down your cheeks. You knew a full night’s sleep was rare for him, and your nightmares were a contributor.

“You’re safe.”

Those words finally anchored you back to earth. You all but collapsed into his arms, laying your head on his chest as he moved to lay flat again. Your breathing eased into a steady rhythm, still hoarse but not gasping anymore.

“Good..good.”

Simon somehow knew that saying less meant more; his touch washed away your panic while his carefully chosen words reached the corners of your mind that were so afraid of losing him.

“You were dying..couldn’t save you..” You whispered into the fabric of his shirt, at which he resumed rubbing your back.

“I’m okay. I’m right here..”

“I know..” emotion weighed down your voice as you reached for his head, thumbing through the shorter hair on the sides. He smelled like your body wash; he always said he’d replace his own eventually but he never did. You never insisted.

You woke up to an empty bed and the sound of quiet conversation at your door. Sitting up slowly, you spotted a mug of your favorite drink on the nightstand, a conflicted smile pulling at your cheeks. It felt wrong to be treated this way; with kindness. You shared this trait with Simon, you knew he often felt he was undeserving, but being on the other side of that felt just as helpless.

You grab your drink and wander into the kitchen, spotting Simon pulling a few items out of a takeaway bag. He paused when he spotted you, abandoning his task to walk over.

“Was about to give you a shove, you slept so well.” He kissed your temple, his hands resting on your hips.

“Yeah..I’m sorry about last night, I—I don’t know, I should get it under control-"

“What? You can’t control nightmares, sweetheart.”

The pet name fell so easily from his lips it made you want to hide away forever.

“I’ll always be here for you. Like you are for me, yeah? You get on my ass for sayin’ shit like that, so I’ll get on yours.” He smoothed the wrinkles in your sweater sleeve absentmindedly. “I care, you know?”

You nod quickly. “Yes.. I know.”

He leaned down to kiss you slowly, his thumb grazing your cheekbone before pulling back to guide you to the table.

The guilt melted a bit after his little deceleration, and breakfast was nice. You also got to watch him put way too much hot sauce on his food, coughing through his words while insisting he was fine. You laughed gently, retrieving some frozen fruit for his tongue.

Soon, too soon, it was time for you to head to work while Simon stayed and attempted to burn through his paperwork. Sometimes you came home while he was in a meeting, witnessing the hilarious sight of Simon Riley being outsmarted by a video call app.

You felt sort of numb today. You walked around base feeling like your legs weren’t all there.

You’d had nightmares before. He had comforted you in the dark before. And now, he had reassured you about the ordeal entirely. But if he wasn’t sure, if he was losing too much sleep, would he say anything? You tried to wring yourself out, busying yourself with small tasks in between meetings and even helping a visitor’s young girl that scraped her knee.

Nothing worked.

It only got worse the drive home, since your phone died and your radio had been stolen a few days ago. Traffic blocked the freeway that led out of town, leaving you to sit in a percolating mess of your thoughts.

How could you take away his sleep? He already went through so much, he has been through so much, the least he deserves is a peaceful place to rest. How could you do that? How could you do that to him? Why is he with you, why is he putting up with this, why are you living while he is surviving?

Why are you alive?

The car behind you blared their horn. Space had freed in front of you during your train of thought, and you pulled forward, weaving through cars, desperate to get home and yet terrified to walk through the door. When you did, you didn’t hear the tapping of his keyboard; just the soft wind you knew came from his office fan. You set down your things, making your way to that room. Peering through the open door, your heart sank.

He was sprawled on the small couch behind his desk, practically spilling off of the thing because of his size. He was sleeping. Drawing deep, steady breaths, his chest rising and falling peacefully. He must have been so tired he took a break to nap.

You exited the room as silently as you could, not being able to stop the tears welling in your eyes. Your thoughts raced, back and forth, back and forth.

You’re being dramatic.

This is proof.

He’s finally getting sleep because you’re not here.

You’re such a

It’s not that serious!

How could you do that?

Just stop crying.

What if you were never here again?

You threw up in your kitchen sink.

Saliva trailed from your bottom lip, and you could only watch, knowing you’d woken him up. Again. He could never find peace. You spit roughly, turning your back and sinking to the floor. You registered Simon’s footsteps, his figure in the doorway, the smell of your body wash.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

His voice floated somewhere you couldn’t reach to. You noticed only now your breathing was frenzied, hoarse and uneven. Your hands trembled.

“Sweetheart, you’re scaring me, breathe.”

God, only you could manage to have a panic attack wrong. You must have made an upset noise through your hyperventilating, because he moved to face you.

“Come here.. come here.”

And then you were collapsing into his chest, sobbing harder with every breath. He didn’t say anything, holding you securely and rocking the both of you with an even rhythm

“It’s my fault..” your broken voice cracked through your tears.

“What? What’s your fault?” Simon ran a hand through your hair, still holding you to him.

“You..You’re never able to rest..” you hiccuped. “..while I’m here..you’re always taking care of me, you never get to sleep.”

You couldn’t stop now that you’d started.

“I shouldn’t be alive..”

Simon stiffened. He leaned forward to retrieve a dish towel, wiping away your tears, snot, and saliva so that you could see him clearly. You’d never seen his eyes so dark, so hurt.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Do you hear me?” His voice was a murmur, like he was whispering a promise.

“I- I don’t..” You were about to break into a sob again when you felt his palm at your jaw.

“You have no idea how empty this world would be without you.” He paused. “It’s not like I’ve never thought about it too, but it doesn’t last forever.”

You looked up at his admission, your breathing beginning to steady. “You’ve thought about it?”

He nodded. “I promise, you will look back on this, and realize how much you appreciate everything. You only get one shot at being alive. You cannot cut it short, do you understand me?”

You nodded, unable to say a word.

“You have no control of what happens at night. When your brain starts playing tricks on you. I’ll be there every time, because I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve done it for me.”

You inhaled a shaky breath, reaching to touch his face. “I love you..”

“I love you.” He returned, pulling you close again. Anything else in the world seemed to dissolve; this was all you had ever hoped for.

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty #simon ghost riley #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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vic-draws-sometimes · 1 year

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In and Out pt.2

This isn't a sequel, it's just Soap's POV

cw : injuries, dissassociation, it's long and wirtten entirely for my own satisfaction

pt. 1

Soap learned early on that Ghost didn’t have all his head. Sometimes he wouldn’t answer to anyone, other times he’d act like a robot. And sometimes Simon came around, cracking jokes and loving Johnny.

It took years for Soap to understand everything and to have a relationship with Simon. It was never easy, but he didn’t have a choice. Not when his heart chose him.

Sometimes Simon would be gone for days, but he also could be there for days. Johnny doesn’t know exactly what sets him off one way or the other, but thankfully it seems that his presence helps a bit.

This time was no different, Ghost was sitting in the helicopter with them, in silence, when he suddenly came about. No one seemed to notice, but Soap did. He immediately latched onto the opportunity and sat beside Simon, holding his hand and his stare.

‘’Hey big guy, ready? It’ll be a couple of days.’’

Soap could see all the changes in his partner’s eyes. His confusion, taking in his surroundings, then focusing on Johnny.

‘’Yeah, I’m good. ‘’ Soap was happy to hear his voice, softer than when he was on autopilot.

Sat side by side, Simon conversed with the others as well, trying to fill the time until they landed. Price was surprised to see him with them, but was happy. It took Gaz a little longer to notice.

Eventually Simon went silent, and Soap had to hope it’s only because he was thinking, not because he was retreating again.

It seems it was the first, because when they landed Simon was still with them, even cracking a joke. Everything seemed fine, they walked through the desert on high alert and finally found the village that was a couple of miles from their target. They would spend the evening there and travel to their target during the night.

Even if the village was abandoned and they were miles from civilization, they still needed to be on alert. There could be traps or watchers. Which is why when Ghost stopped walking and stood upright, beside a dusty old truck, open to anyone to see or shoot, Soap was worried.

He was slipping.

Trying to keep his Simon with him, he was quick to be by his side and ground him.

‘’Yer good, LT?’’

Ghost looked at him, eyes dazed and confused. Maybe he should just let him slip back, maybe it’d be easier…

But Ghost inched closer and Soap knew exactly what he wanted to do, he stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

‘’Woah, stop. After the mission, okay? Just stay focused, yeah? I don’t want to lose you.’’

It was true, maybe if Simon was promised a kiss he wouldn’t go away.

Ghost nodded, seemingly coming back, and Soap guided him to the shadows, back with their small team.

Simon didn’t stay, it became apparent. He would only answer through the comms, and only the necessary. Alert as always and deadly like he’s known for, but the warmth was gone.

And oh did Johnny miss it.

The three days were long without him. Gaz tried to lighten the mood, but it just wasn’t the same.

Eventually, they entered combat. The adrenaline of the mortal danger they were in distracted Soap sufficiently. They were close to their target, he could feel it in his veins. He was like a tracking dog finally finding its goal.

But when they got to the final room, the servers were on fire.

He heard himself curse, and before he knew it he was in the fire, trying to pry open the sloth for at least one of the cartagers.

His gloves got on fire, and he had enough clarity to get out of there and try to take them off. He struggled, the plastic was already melting. Surprisingly, Ghost was the one to help him, efficiently putting off the fire and taking them off for him. His skin was badly burned, it would soon break in blisters if they didn’t act soon.

‘’What the fuck was that, sergeant?!’’

Price shook him out of his thoughts, but before he could apologize he was guided out of the servers room and out of the building.

They exited the small city and found a shack to hide in. Price contacted Laswell to tell her the bad news. Gaz was on watch duty, making sure no one was approaching their position. And before Soap could fall into his own head and review everything that went wrong, Ghost sat him down.

‘’I’m sorry LT, I shouldn’t have acted so rashly, I…’’ Ghost didn’t speak, but he took his burned hands and started to clean them.

‘’Ouch! At least warn me…’’ Ghost applied cream, then tightly bandaged his hands, essentially stopping the skin from blistering. Then, he removed his own gloves and carefully put them on for Soap, protecting the bandages.

‘’Simon…’’ Soap called out, but when he looked into his eyes he didn’t see his partner. He sighed and thanked him, and Ghost went away to take care of something else.

‘’Evac will come tomorrow, ten miles from here. Let’s go.’’ Price announced soon after, and they started walking again.

When they reached the RV point, they set up a small camp. Two tents, a small fire and a hole for shitting. They didn’t need more than that, Ghost usually slept with Soap, if he slept, and Price and Gaz were more than happy to share a tent.

‘’God I’m starving! I could eat a horse.’’ Johnny said when they could finally sit down. Price chuckled.

‘’Only got cans of beans.’’

‘’Beans?! I hate those! Why no MREs?’’

‘’Someone ate all of them, last week.’’ Soap and Price turned to look at Ghost, even though he was unresponsive. Well, they thought. He quickly turned around and started walking elsewhere, much to their confusion.

‘’Follow him, make sure he doesn’t get in trouble.’’

‘’Yes sir.’’ Soap sighed as he got up and followed his Lieutenant. Ghost was looking at the ground when walking, then stopped and crouched down behind a bush. Soap stayed there for a couple of minutes, watching him. But he didn’t move, so he went back to Price.

‘’He’s sulking, my guess.’’ Not the best time for that, though. Midday was approaching and staying in the shade was going to be important.

Soap entered the tent not long after, trying to get away from the heat. An hour or two later he got out again, the worst was passed.

‘’I hate the desert! ‘’ he exclaimed, only Gaz had the courtesy to chuckle. It seems he only got out a couple of minutes earlier than him.

‘’Have you seen Ghost?’’

‘’No, the man’s been gone for hours. ‘’ Gaz replied, and Soap couldn’t help but be worried. He was a danger, after all. To himself and to others. But before he could get up to look for him, he came back. He was covered in fresh blood and sweat, a skinned rabbit in his hand. He dropped it in front of Soap.

‘’Huh… Thanks. Did you hunt that yourself?’’ he asked, but got no answer. Ghost only walked a couple of meters to go sit on a boulder and stare into nothing.

‘’Are you being courted by a caveman?’’ Gaz laughed, but no doubt would be eating the meat when it was cooked.

‘’Don’t make fun of him when he’s like that. ‘’ Johnny tried to defend him, but it’s true that it was an odd gesture.

He looked back at Ghost, a fond smile on his lips. But he lost it quickly.

‘’Oh god he’s licking the blood!’’ He got up and found an old rag, walking up to his CO.

‘’Don’t lick, dumbass!’’ He dumped water on the man’s hands and wiped them. Ghost still didn’t answer, his hands barely moving. Damn, this blood was sticky.

Soap tried his best to clean his hands, but felt tears prick his eyes. Why did he give him meat? Why did he give him his gloves?

‘’Don’t act so kind to me when you’re ignoring me… What am I supposed to do? ‘’ He bumped his forehead against Ghost's torso, or more like his gear. He was breathing evenly, like he was asleep. Soap looked up to him, Ghost’s eyes were dim, unfocused. He was looking at Soap like he was invisible and staring right through him.

Still, Johnny brought up a cleaned hand to his mouth to kiss it. ‘’Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you to come back. I’ll be there when you need me…’’

He slipped Ghost’s gloves back in his hands, with difficulty. Ghost wasn’t helping him, keeping his hands as relaxed as he could. Eventually, Soap settled on one half put on glove and the other put on, but with one or two fingers having missed the finger holes.

Whatever, it’s good enough.

He was hungry and roasted meat was on the menu.

Everyone ate some beans and meat, cooked by a measly fire. Soap had saved some for Ghost, but he never joined them.

He sat beside him at some point, talking to him, hoping to bring Simon back.

‘’The sun’s about to set, we’ll have to sleep before Evac. There’s only two tents, why don’t you join me, mh? It’ll be the one on the right. ‘’ He waited, no answer…

‘’Hey, why don’t you eat, ye? It’s been what, two days? C’mon…’’ He presented the meat, but didn’t have any reaction.

‘’Help me a bit, here…’’ He reached up for the balaclava, wanting to lift up the bottom so Ghost could eat. But before he could even get close a hand wrapped itself tightly around his wrist, making him gasp in pain. His skin was still sensitive and it felt like Ghost wanted to break his bone.

‘’Leave it, soldier!’’ Price ordered, and Ghost let go instantly. Soap was left trembling a bit from the pain. But mainly hurt by the action. Ghost was acting kind to him, but didn’t even let him touch him…

Price joined them and looked over Ghost.

‘’He’s not eating?’’ Soap only shook his head. ‘’Not talking? ‘’ Another shake. Price seemed to think for a second. ‘’Take his weapons. I don’t want him hurting you. ‘’

Soap was hesitant. He approached his hand but was again rejected.

‘’Soldier, give your weapons, now. ‘’ Price was using his captain voice, but didn’t receive an answer. He sighed and opened the comms.

‘’Ghost, do you copy?’’

‘’Copy.’’ The answer from the man was immediate, talking into his mic. It’s like he wasn’t seeing them at all.

‘’Give up your weapons, now. ‘’ He was hesitant, but started stripping himself of his weapons.

‘’All of them, I don’t want a single blade on you.’’ Price was still talking to him through his headphones. A ridiculous amount of tiny blades were given up.

‘’Good. Be at rest.’’ Ghost went back to being a sitting duck on the boulder, and Soap gathered the weapons to hide them. They did the same with every other weapon they could find, only keeping a handful on their persons.

As they sat around the fire, the sun now set, Soap couldn’t help but steal glances towards Ghost. He hasn't moved from his spot since he got there.

‘’Worried? ‘’ Price asked, and Soap only nodded.

‘’Why?’’ He looked at his captain, biting his lip.

‘’I don’t know, isn’t it worse than usual? It’s been weeks since we saw Simon for more than a couple of minutes…’’ Price sighed, knowing.

‘’I asked for him to have a med leave, but they refused. If he can fight they’ll keep him.’’

‘’They’re using him like a horse.’’ Gaz added, bitter. Soap knew all too well. As long as he could fight they’d keep him in the field. Ghost wasn't helping either, dodging psych evaluations and swearing he’s fine.

‘’Let’s get to sleep, boys.’’ Price announced, and Soap looked one last time towards Ghost. ‘’He’ll come around. You need rest.’’ Soap nodded and got into his tent, falling asleep was easier than he thought. He was exhausted.

Hours later, he was woken up by sounds inside the tent, then strong arms circling his waist.

‘’Simon.’’ He felt relief flood his body, smiling a bit. But he was too tired to move, only appreciating his partner for a few more minutes before he fell back asleep.

‘’Johnny?’’ The sun was unbearable already, too bright and too warm. But before he could officially wake up, he was unceremoniously flipped on his back.

‘’What is it, Si?’’ He asked, but didn’t hear anything but a gasp. When he opened his eyes, Simon was already scrambling out of the tent. An attack? A snake?

He quickly put on some pants and went outside too, but the site was as they left it. When he looked at Ghost, he saw Simon. But Simon wasn’t seeing him. Or at least, that’s what he guessed. He looked absolutely terrified, his hands trembling as he tried to find something to defend himself with.

‘’Simon, calm down. It’s just me, Johnny. ‘’ He tried to smile at him, but only got a fist swung at him. It was too sloppy to hit him, but the action still hurt his feelings.

‘’Simon, please, wake up. ‘’

He got closer to him, managing to touch his arms. But Simon got away again, until he tripped and fell.

‘’Are you okay? Simon, please look at me!’’ He crouched in front of him, trying to hold his face, He got punched once in the face, evaded another punch.

By then Gaz and Price woke up and were beside him.

‘’What’s happening?! ‘’

‘’I don’t know, he woke up and… ‘’ Soap couldn’t finish his sentence, Simon was crying, fear making his whole body tremble.

He tried to attack him again and this time was stopped and held down by the two other men. He was sobbing, breaking Johnny’s heart.

‘’Simon, please, it’s just us.’’

‘’C’mon Ghost snap out of it!’’

They struggled with the panicked man for longer, before he suddenly stopped moving.

His face relaxed slightly and his eyes dazed over. The struggle ended just like that. Simon was unresponsive yet again, except this time it was like he died. He let himself be touched and moved by Price and Gaz, barely breathing…

He stayed in this state until the helicopter arrived, and until he was sent to a psychiatric hospital. He never responded to any stimuli, and when a nurse closed his eyelids for him, he didn’t open them again.

-----------

Okay it sounded like he died at the end but I'm pretty sure he didn't. Also, I wrote this in one go which is probably bad but I'm too lazy to change anything.

#ghostsoap #wrote this instead of homework #clinically insane ghost is plaguing my mind

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therosebudgirlwriter · 2 years

Text

Little Puff Daycare (Chapter 2: Bazzy Boy)

Simon

I run into the day-care, somehow only fifteen minutes late. Mum looks me up and down as I catch my breath. She breaks eye contact to grab a jumper to throw over my coffee-stained t-shirt. I start to speak but she raises a hand to shush me.

“I don’t even want to know Simon. Just please take these kids inside.”

I look down at the crowd of 4-5 year olds looking up at me.

Right, back to work then.

The kids are particularly crazy today, which means I have no time to think about Baz. I finally get the kids down for nap time. Once the last kid dozes I look at the damage the coffee did to my shirt.

It’s covered. Fuck. That’s my nicest shirt. Just as I’m about to sit down at my desk I hear knocking at the door.

I look up to see my mum waving at me through the tiny window next to the door. I dawdle over, and pull open the door.

“Everything alright mum?” I say, glancing up at her.

“We have a new student!” she squeals, pushing the cutest little girl forwards. “Oh and this is Vera.”

Vera (her grandma?) turns to her. “Go introduce yourself to…”

“You can call me Simon.” I say to them, kneeling down to look at the girl.

“I’m Rosalind Natasha Grimm-Pitch and I’m this many years old.” she say as she holds up 5 chubby fingers, “You can call me Rosie.”

Grimm-Pitch. Of course. She must be another one of Baz’s forty million siblings.

“Well you are just in time for nap time Rosie.” I say with a smile as I lead her into the classroom.

As she sorts herself out for nap time, Mum tugs on my jumper. “Grimm-Pitch? Like your old roommate Basilton?” she says in a much to cheery voice.

“Yeah I guess. His parents already have like 23 kids. They breed like rabbits” I mutter to her.

She hits me. “Simon!” but she does giggle a little bit.

I thought they had a nanny like most rich tossers. Weird.

The day continues like any other. Luckily nap time always mellows the kids out. Rosie doesn’t seem keen to join the other kids though. I’ll have to talk to her parents about that. Oh joy.

At the end of the day the kids rush out to their parents and my heart melts. Sure we have fun, but they love their parents so much and it’s so friggin’ cute.

I answer a few questions from some parents, but they all clear out after about fifteen minutes. I sigh, exhausted. I turn to go pack up when I see Rosie sitting on the floor just outside the door. Of course it’s her.

I sit down next to her “How was your day?” I ask.

She looks up at me and bursts into tears. Oh. Can’t say I was expecting that reaction.

“What’s wrong? Did something upset you?” I say.

She sniffles and wipes her tears away with her little fingers. “I don’t want to be here. Why did daddy leave me?”

Ok not surprising. Just homesickness then. “Rosie I promise your dad didn’t want to leave you either. But I also promise we’ll have lots of fun together.”

She stops crying and looks at me “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Just then I hear someone running down the corridor. “That must be your dad!”

Baz

Shit shit shit. I am running so late. This kid in my class made everyone 30 minutes late to leave because he had ‘important’ questions that the whole class should hear. First day back at Uni and I’m already screwing up because now I’m late to get Rosie. I hope she’s ok. She was not keen to leave this morning. I had to promise her ice-cream to even get her to let go of me. Not great parenting, I know but leave me alone. I’m only 23. Not like that excuse has ever worked on Father. He was the one that insisted I go back to Uni. I wanted to stay at my crappy office job.

At least then I can convince myself that I am actually helping to pay for Rosie.

I manage to be only fifteen minutes late. I definitely sped. Just a little bit. Oh well.

I run into the day care and down the corridor.

I see Rosie sitting down, outside what must be her classroom with the teacher. They turn around to face me.

Oh, for fucks sake.

Of course, Simon fucking Snow is the teacher. Just my luck.

Simon

So, I was right about Baz being the brother. Just brill. I don’t think he was expecting to see me though. He looks horrified. For a moment I think he's going to be sick.

Don’t worry Baz. I don’t want this any more than you do.

It’s funny seeing them together. She looks so much like him. Except for her hair and her eyes.

She has curly black hair that sticks out in a million different directions. I guess even rich people don’t know how to treat curly hair.

To be fair, it took Penelope begging and pleading for me to fix mine.

Her eyes are also the same colour as mine. Baz used to always say I had the plainest blue eyes ever. He used to say they were boring. She makes them look cute though.

Baz

Holy shit. There goes my life.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Rosie. More than I’ve ever loved anyone else in the entire world. But having my childhood crush find out I’m the single parent to a 5-year-old at the ripe old age of 23 is not what I was expecting to happen at 3:15 on a random Tuesday. Oh, and he’s her bloody kindy teacher.

At the only kindy not an hours drive away.

Fuck you universe.

Simon

Rosie breaks the awkward silence by running towards Baz. He melts when he opens his arms to her. Wow, I didn’t know Baz Pitch could show any human emotions. Apart from disgust and anger. She’s fully stopped crying now.

“Bazzy!” she cries out when he hugs her, “I missed you!”

Bazzy, huh? He smiles at her, looking slightly confused. Must be a new nickname then.

I remember when a girl from school tried to call him that. He shut that down pretty quickly. He was never interested in any of the girls. Only my girlfriend at the time. Because that's just how Baz is. Was? I don't know.

Baz

It's always a bit disconcerting when your child calls you by your name. Or at least a bastardised version of it. I forgot was going through that phase where she copied EVERYTHING Mordelia says. Including calling me Bazzy.

Usually I hate it, but today it’s not a bother at all.

It's kinda brilliant. Good job bub.

Simon stands up and brushes himself off.

“Er, usually this is the part where I introduce myself, but... yeah.” he says, not quite making eye-contact. Fine by me.

Usually this is the part where I apologise for being late, but that is not going to happen.

“Great, well I’m going to take her home.” I blurt out. Rosie looks up at me and wiggles her hands. Sighing, I bend down and pick her up. She’s lucky she’s so adorable.

“Ok then.” Simon says, looking just as awkward as I feel. Well that was easier than I thought. Finally. I can pretend like this interaction never happened.

I go to turn and head to the car, but Simon stops me.

I knew it was too easy. What now.

“Just one thing before you go. Is there any chance your parents could come like 30 minutes early on Friday? I just want to have a chat with them about how Rosalind’s first week went. If they can’t make it that’s fine. It doesn’t HAVE to be your parents, it would just be better, you know. It could be Vera. Or you." He blurts, running his hands through his hair. His curls seem way less chaotic than they were in school. That will be Bunce’s doing.

I forgot Simon rambles when he’s nervous. Sadly, I find it almost, endearing. But that’s completely irrelevant right now, because Snow wants to see Rosie’s parent/s about something. And that person is me.

“They can’t, but I should be able to.” I answer, trying to remain calm.

“Ok, that’s fine. Does 7:00 am work?”

“Yes. Now may I take her home?”

“Yeah, bye bye Rosie! See you tomorrow!” he says, waving at her with a small smile.

“BYE MR SIMON” she squeals, as we walk down the corridor.

Simon

I wave Rosie goodbye as she and Baz exit the corridor.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Baz be so soft towards anyone.

He looked sort of cute. Not even sort of. He did.

Jesus. What is happening to me?

#snowbaz #simon snow series #agatha wellbelove #simon snow #baz pitch #the simon snow trilogy #carry on #awtwb #wayward son #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3fic #archive of our own #my fic

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Text

Accidental Family

Hey folks! This is one of two fics for the six month celebration of this blog! Woohoo! Blood on the Ice is one of the most popular series I've written, and expanding it into Josie’s (@prohibitionincurls ) Winging It world with her was unbelievably fun. Disclaimer: one of the OCs has ADHD and it is a central theme of the story--while Josie based some of his characteristics on her own experience, we both recognize that this is not a one-size-fits-all situation. Thank you again for six amazing months, and I hope you enjoy!

Lots of love,

Eve <3

TW for mentioned injury

“Oh my god, they’re gonna kill me,” the kid whispered in a wavering voice, sounding much younger than he actually was as he left the penalty box.

“They’re not going to kill you,” Bowie soothed, still watching the tunnel where Remus had disappeared mere minutes earlier. From what he saw, there had been a bit of blood, but the bruising didn’t look too bad. Then again, there had barely been enough time for anything to visibly swell before he was whisked away.

“Can I just stay in the box?” Felix cast a look toward the Lions bench and his voice cracked. “They can’t yell at me in the box, right?”

“Hey. Look at me, Marty.” Bowie took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “The Lions are good guys. They’re not going to hurt you, but you did just fuck up one of their best friends. What would you do if someone hit me in the face?”

“Come on, man, I’m a terrible fighter. I don’t know how well I’d be able to defend your honor after something like that. It was an accident. Do you think they know it was an accident? Should I go tell them?”

“I know. They know. Loops definitely knows. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re a little cold at first.” He ruffled the rookie’s hair and turned back to the game; the Lions were moving fast and brutal, slicing right through their defense for yet another goal. Shit. Felix clearly felt bad enough already--losing the game wouldn’t make him feel any better.

They ended up losing the game.

Bowie had figured it might happen; he would have had the same fire if it had been his teammate that got clocked like that. Hell, he used to have the same fire when he and Remus had played together, so he completely understood.

That did not change the fact that once they got home, Felix was still borderline inconsolable. The 18-year-old wasn’t technically billeting with them, but the apartment he was renting just so happened to be in the same building, on the same floor, and right across the hall from his and Simon’s. This led to an informal adoption of the rookie and he was around their house at least five times a week, if not more.

Felix Martin was a good kid, and that idea was confirmed when Kronk immediately took a liking to him; the cat loved nobody but the three of them. Bowie was grateful that he and Simon were there to quell some of the homesickness that came from moving out to a new city on his own for the first time. The transition was always tough, but they could provide a little support.

They parted ways from the team when the bus got back from the rink and drove to their building in silence. Once they made their way up the stairs and down the hall, Felix moved to go back to his apartment.

“Nope,” Bowie said immediately, placing a hand on his shoulder and steering him through the door to his and Simon’s place. It wasn’t a good idea for Felix to be alone right now--there was nothing to do alone after a loss aside from beat himself up about it, and Bowie would be damned before he let that happen.

Simon and Kronk were perched on the couch, but they both moved into the kitchen as soon as the door clicked closed. Simon took one look at the pair and carefully wrapped his arms around Felix; the kid practically melted. The three of them stood there for a moment until Simon pulled back a bit and tilted his head toward the living room. Felix nodded and Bowie followed the two, sharing the couch with Simon while the rookie curled up in the large armchair diagonal to them.

He...well, if Bowie was being honest, Felix looked like hell. He chewed his lower lip like an anxious beaver and fiddled with the loose threads of the closest armrest; everything about him screamed discomfort. Bowie caught Simon’s worried glance in his periphery and let out a slow breath, trying to relieve at least a little of the tension in the room.

“You don’t have to relive it if you don’t want to. I saw the game. But if you want to talk about it…” Simon trailed off with a significant look.

Felix sighed and his shoulders caved in a bit. “It was just one of those moments. All of a sudden, I didn’t really have a grasp on what was going on, which feels like shit because I’ve been doing pretty well so far. I dunno. It was just...bad.”

That was it. Bowie knew Felix had seemed a little off. When Felix mentioned he had ADHD at the start of the season during one of their ‘getting to know your neighbor’ chats, Bowie hadn’t thought much of it. But as they grew closer, he began to notice when Felix forgot to eat or drink, or got overwhelmingly excited about something, or when he suddenly spaced out. It wasn’t just Felix being Felix.

The whole team stepped up and became intensely protective, of course. They not only helped him remember meal times, but also scheduling, directions, and everything in between. Bowie felt especially responsible for reasons he didn’t entirely understand--there was just something about the kid’s sweet heart that struck a chord.

He also knew that Felix was highly emotionally intelligent, but had no concept of whether people liked him or not. He was someone who assumed the worst, all the time. So, Bowie decided to do the only thing he knew would work: after a few more beats of uncomfortable silence, he pulled his phone out, tapped a few buttons, and pressed ‘call’.

“Hey, Remus, are you alive?”

An amused snort came from the speaker even as Felix blanched. “Hello to you, too, Bowie. Jeez, you’re worse than Sirius. I’m one hundred percent alive, just a little swollen. Your rookie’s got a helluva shot, but maybe tell the kid to hit the puck and not my face next time.”

Felix flushed red and put his face between his knees, though hearing the laughter in Remus’s voice and knowing that he was okay clearly took some of the weight off his shoulders. Bowie whooped internally and shot him a quick, reassuring smile.

“Yeah, the kid’s got spirit, but he’s also got ADHD. He’s great most of the time, but sometimes under extreme pressure he can’t figure out where the fuck he--or anything else around him--is. Something about focusing or neurons firing the wrong way, maybe? Either way, it’s why he’s a terrible fuckin’ driver.”

Felix flopped back against the chair with a groan. “How the hell am I supposed to know how far away the cars around me are based on the mirrors? And how am I supposed to park?!”

Remus’s laugh echoed once again. “Don’t ask me, kid, I’m not allowed to drive, either. Not because I’m ADHD, but because I’m terrible at it.”

“You can say that again!” a muffled voice called from behind Remus.

“Please excuse my fiance,” Remus said politely. “He’s a jackass who’s trying to make me lay down again.”

Felix smiled, though it was a bit pained. “I didn’t get a chance to apologize earlier. That stick was totally on me. And--I mean, I heard some of the guys talking afterward and it sounded like you got pretty banged up, so I’m really sorry. Like, really sorry.”

“Hey, woah, you’re fine,” Remus soothed. Bowie recognized his ‘talking to newbies’ voice and hid a smile in the cuff of his hoodie. “It’s the name of the game, after all. Did Bowie ever tell you about the time I accidentally checked him into a wall? Or when I broke his visor with a puck? For context, this was when we were on the same team.”

“Or that time you kicked my legs out from under me and sent me sprawling across the ice during practice.”

“That one was on purpose.”

Bowie glared at the phone, but Felix was snickering and his grin was genuine. It calmed him a bit. “Thanks, Loops.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Remus paused for a moment, then mumbled something inaudible to someone in the background before clearing his throat. “Bowie.”

“Yes?” Remus had never been a wild card, per se, but he certainly had a knack for asking strange questions out of the blue.

“Did you accidentally adopt a child or do my ears deceive me?”

Bowie was about to laugh at the absurdity of it, but then he took a moment to think, looking back and forth between Simon and Felix. “Fuckin’--maybe I did, Re, but he’s ours now. And if that’s the case, I’m going to formally request that you tell your fiance to quit being mean to my son.”

Remus laughed on the other end of the line. “Will do. Felix seems like a sweetheart, I’m glad he’s got you two.”

Bowie nodded with a slight smile, even though Remus couldn’t see him. “So are we. I can practically sense Sirius hovering, so go let your boyfriend fuss over you for a little while.”

An offended noise came from Remus’s side, followed by a lower laugh and the click of the call ending.

Simon looked Felix dead in the eyes. “I’m seconding the ‘kid’ thing. You may just barely be a legal adult, but it doesn’t mean we can’t adopt you. Congrats on your new gay dads.”

Felix’s bright laugh sent a wave of relief through Bowie. “You guys are only, like, eight years older than me.”

“Silence, spawn,” Simon said, pointing a playful finger at him as his grin widened into something sweet and lopsided. “Now both of you need to come eat something. I made cookies while you were getting pushed around for a living.”

Bowie was still worried about Remus’ face--he made a mental note to call the next day to check in--but all his concerns disappeared as Felix scooped the cat up for a snuggle and followed Simon into the kitchen. They may have lost the game, but he would lose a million Cups to keep that moment forever: his Simon fussing over them both, his cat purring in pure bliss, and his kid settling into place at last.

#remus lupin #sirius black #bowie #felix martin #simon #sweater weather #coast to coast #lumosinlove #coops #hockey #adhd #blood on the ice #found family #prohibitionincurls #collab #fanfic #my fic

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happyandticklish · 3 years

Text

Make Me

Shizaya Week - Day Five (cigarettes)

Notes: Day 3 & 4? I don’t know her. Anyway, here’s this, because I actually had an idea for this one! One day I will make Shizuo the lee, I swear, but for now, I shall stick with self-indulgently wrecking Izaya’s shit once more.

“Hey!”

Shizuo glanced up in surprise as Izaya snatched the unlit cigarette out of his mouth. “What the hell?”

“These things will kill you, you know,” Izaya commented, his brows wrinkling in disgust. He waved it around idly as he spoke, casually walking away from the other. “You already have enough people in this town trying to kill you, I hardly think you need something else adding onto your sudden demise.”

“Are you forgetting all the times you attempted to do the same?” Shizuo dodged around passerby’s awkwardly, attempting to catch up with Izaya.

The two had met up at Simon’s that day on accident, mostly. Perhaps Shizuo had let the information slip that he would be there that afternoon, and maybe Izaya had decided that he was coincidentally in the mood for sushi as well. If anyone asked, it was happenstance, a random fluke of life. To call it a date would be ludicrous.

Izaya laughed, gracefully slipping through the crowd with an ease the other lacked. “You get hung up on the smallest things, Shizu-chan. Relax—I’m doing you a favor.”

“Give it back.”

“Make me.”

The words were a challenge, one Shizuo knew well. The urge to destroy Izaya hadn’t fled when feelings encroached on their territory, but instead had merely morphed into new and more intimate modes. There was a playful edge to their taunts now. The lines between fighting and flirting were flimsy, and Shizuo found himself crossing it unconsciously more and more as time went on. Not that he really minded. He was never one for change, but he had to admit, this was a nice one.

Shizuo narrowed his eyes, a teasing grin sliding into place on his features. Izaya’s heart leapt to his throat, as though his body already knew what was to come.

And then he was running.

Pushing past people on the street, Izaya leapt on top of benches, propelling himself forward with a chaotic ease that made others stare. Shizuo felt fire alight in his body once more, a familiar feeling. Only this time, instead of anger, the passion coursing through him was something else entirely—excitement.

“What’s wrong? Running away is the coward’s option you know—come out and face me like a man.”

Izaya threw a glance back only to find Shizuo much, much closer than he had expected. Shit. Giddy laughter built up in his throat, but he shoved it down, tossing back a breezy air as he replied, “Only fools play fair, my dear beast. I thought you would have learned that by now.”

Izaya turned into a corner at the last moment, hoping it would delay the other and give him a second to think. He clutched the cigarette tight to his chest; his fingers had crushed it a little in his haste, rendering it useless should Shizuo actually retrieve it. Not that it mattered. Both knew that wasn’t what this was about, anyway.

Seconds passed by slowly with no sign of the other man, and Izaya exhaled slowly. Maybe he had lost him after all? He turned around to shove the cigarette in his pocket, but before he could he felt a hand grab his wrists, pulling it above his head and pressing him against the wall. Izaya gasped, bracing his impact with his other hand.

“Gotcha,” Shizuo whispered quietly, casually plucking the cigarette from his hand and tossing it to the ground. He had him trapped, his torso bearing into Izaya’s back and his hand pinning him there. Escape would be difficult to be sure.

Izaya smiled, helplessly, closing his eyes and trying to conceal the nervous edge from his voice. “For now. And what happens when you’re in my position later on, hmm? What will you do when you are at the mercy of my will?”

Shizuo slipped his right hand under Izaya’s shirt, his fingers skimming across the trembling skin in unhurried exploration. “We’ll see if you last long enough for then, won’t we?”

Izaya choked on a stifled sound, biting his lip to try to conceal the other noises rising inside him. Nails, featherlight, traced incomprehensible patterns along his ribs that had him arching closer to the wall. “T-This is, e-entirely, ah, uncahalled for!”

“You stealing my shit is uncalled for.” Shizuo dragged his nails down, scratching lightly at his hips. Izaya yelped, his other hand reaching around to slap him away. Shizuo merely danced around the interference, targeting a new spot whenever he tried to protect it. “This, however, is simply the consequences of your own actions.”

“S-Stahap this, heh, y-ohou crehetin!” Izaya giggled, for it was giggling—that was unmistakable. He jumped and twitched underneath the other, his face flushing an embarrassing shade of pink. This was ridiculous. Of all the things Shizuo could choose to do to him, he never understood why tickling was his favorite. It was undignified, childish, and entirely beneath him.

And maybe, just a little, tiny bit, fun.

Not that he would let the other know that, of course.

“Is something the matter?” Shizuo teased, scribbling fingers under his arms to hear the accompanying shriek it produced. It was endlessly entertaining watching the composed man fall to pieces in his arm over something so simple. He never grew tired of it. “Does it tickle too much for the great Izaya Orihara? Is the famous info broker too ticklish to handle this?”

Izaya felt like his body would never be the same hue again at this rate. He wanted to hide his face in embarrassment, or at the very least cover his mouth to conceal the high-pitched laughter escaping him. Unfortunately, every time he tried the tickling would grow more intense and he would be forced to bring it back down again. It was an endless cycle, one he couldn’t help but participate in.

“Having some trouble getting your words out?” Izaya’s fingers had closed about Shizuo’s wrist, but they clung there uselessly, unable to prevent his hand from continuing its ticklish expedition along his torso. Currently, Shizuo clawed at his stomach, a spot that produced the most adorable sounds from the other, his body doubled over in an attempt at vain protection. “How about this—I’ll make it easy for you. Apologize and I’ll let you go. It’s that simple.”

Izaya scoffed incredulously through his laughter, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous proposition. “A-Ahahas ihihif Ihihihi wohohould e-ehehever, geh, ahahapologize to, aha s-shohort-fuhuhused lohohoser lihihike yohohou!”

“Loser, eh?”

Izaya squeaked as Shizuo latched suddenly onto his hips, his thumb pressing directly into the bone in a way that sent electricity shooting throughout his nervous system. He jerked back, his laughter exploding in frantic bursts as he squirmed desperately to get away.

“Ah! WAHAHAIT, SHIHIHIZUHO, NAHAHA!” He shoved uselessly at his hand, trying to dislodge it from the spot to failing efforts. His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth splitting wide in an uncharacteristically genuine grin. “I-IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES, SHIHIHIT!”

“Say you’re sorry.” Shizuo was relentless, not letting up for a moment. The intense tickling on such a sensitive spot was quickly driving Izaya up the wall, and before he knew what he was doing, the words were falling from his lips.

“A-Ah, fihihine, fihihIHIHINE!” He jumped from foot to foot, his laughter dissolving into helpless cackling as he threw his head back. “I’m sorry! Ihihi’m sohoHOHOHORRY! A-Ahahaha, ShihiHIHIHIZUHUO!:

With a satisfied grin, Shizuo relented, releasing him. Izaya slumped back against the other, burying his face in his chest and grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to support himself.

“Mean,” he mumbled, his words muffled from the position. “Shizu-chan is a mean and callous brute.”

“Is that so?” Shizuo replied fondly, brushing his hair back from his face. He felt Izaya soften against him, melting into the touch despite himself. He tilted the other’s chin up, leaning in to kiss him, but Izaya quickly turned his face away.

“Absolutely not,” he sniffed petulantly, releasing him to cross his arms stubbornly instead. “As if I would kiss an evil brute like you after what you did to me.”

“You say that like you don’t enjoy it,” Shizuo pointed out. Izaya blushed, refusing to meet his gaze. “Fine then. You’ve forced my hand.”

Izaya squawked, lurching backwards when Shizuo grabbed his hips again, sending him quickly back into a fit of giggles. “W-Wahahahait, ohohokay, ohOHOHOKAY!”

Shizuo stopped, pulling him in and stealing the remaining laughter from the other’s lips with a kiss. “You’re so cute like this, you know,” he murmured afterwards, pulling away to look into his eyes.

Izaya froze, his heart stuttering in his chest. After a moment, however, the smirk was back. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same about you. Don’t worry though—I’m sure one day you’ll grow into your looks.”

Suffice it to say, Izaya did not learn his lesson that day.

#tickle fic #shizayaweek2021 #shizaya #tickling #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #durarara #durarara!!#shizayaweek #fanfiction #drabble

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nct-jungjaehyun · 3 years

Text

[6:15pm] “and then you go bam and bam bam bam,”crush!jaehyun was currently teaching you the dance moves to simon says.

you copied his movements the best you can. despite your best efforts, your arms flung left and right awkwardly. laughter erupted from the both of you when your left foot hooked behind your right and you fell forward.

thankfully, he caught you every time.

while you gulped down the rest of your water, he turned off the music and leaned against the wall. “i was ten times worse than you when i first started.”

you laughed, “ayy, don’t lie. you probably had it in you from the start.” your hand pointed at him accusingly.

he hit your hand and pushed it down, smirking at your teasing.

your arm brushed against his as you leaned on his right side. “i want ice cream,” you sighed.

he straightened himself, picking at his pockets to find extra change. “i can run and go buy some at the convenience store. it’ll take me like five minutes.”

you nodded and wiped away the sweat on your forehead. your hair was beginning to stick to the back of your neck. “i’ll wait. take your time.”

he jogged out of the practice room. like a spy, you silently crept behind him and watched as his figure disappeared from around the corner of the bright hallway.

calm down, you told yourself. your heart was pounding against your chest. the dancing must have increased the beating. but most of all, it was jaehyun’s fault. to be precise, it was the fault of his beauty, his voice, his every touch. even after two hours of exercise, the sweat only seemed to add a touch of fire to his beauty. when you struggled to pick up on a certain move, he would rush over and hold your arms and lead you through the choreography. the contact kept your blood pumping and adrenaline rushing.

all the times that you saw him, before he offered to teach you some dance choreographies, he always wore a variety of hoodies and the same pair of jeans.

this time was different. he carried a white tee that highlighted his wide torso and basketball shorts that showed off his toned calves. it was impossible to take your eyes off of him, perhaps that was why you messed up so much during the dance.

you shook your head and laughed to yourself. you could not believe that you were doing this to spend time with jaehyun and get him to like you. when he first asked if you wanted him to teach you how to dance, you accepted his offer without thinking. your heart screamed yes. your heart excited when he was around and your mind failed to keep up with your emotions.

indeed, it did not take jaehyun long to get to the convenience store and back. he returned and aside from the bag of ice cream hanging from his fingers at his side, he brought someone with him.

the person behind him had almond hair and carried a black tee and joggers. he reminded you of a teddy bear. he was shorter than jaehyun, but he was still taller than you by, you suspected, a few inches. he waved sheepishly and brushed his hand on jaehyun’s back.

jaehyun handed you the bag and squeezed the stranger’s shoulder, “this is haechan. i ran into him at the store. he said he left something here from last night.”

you smiled at haechan and attached your eyes with his round ones for a mere second. eye contact was always difficult for you. you much rather make eye contact with inanimate things, such as the ice cream in your hands.

however, as haechan walked towards the corner of the room, where he last left his charger, his eyes lingered on you.

you set the ice cream on a chair and backed away for jaehyun to pick one from the many flavors. while waiting for him to choose, your mouth salivated. your body was begging for something cold to wash away the heat burning your skin. to distract yourself, you moved your arms around to remind yourself of the dance movements that jaehyun had just taught you.

out of nowhere, a loud gasp resembling a siren erupted from the corner of the room. your heads spun up in alert and faced haechan, the source of the sound.

jaehyun stomped his foot like a little toddler, “look what you did!”

your eyes followed his finger, which pointed at the floor where his ice cream was smushed against.

haechan ignored his tantrum and rushed towards you, “apple! it’s you, isn’t it?”

you returned his excitement with confusion. “i’m sorry? apple?”

it was haechan’s turn to stomp his feet now, but it was from happiness, unlike jaehyun, who is now finding paper towels to wipe away the milky mess.

haechan leaned forward to smack jaehyun’s back, “your girlfriend is an alumni from my school. she was my upperclassmen!”

jaehyun threw the wet paper towel at haechan, an attempt to shut him up.

after throwing a kick in haechan’s direction, he turned to you. “g-girlfriend,” jaehyun forced himself to smile, “ignore what he said, i-i, i’m sorry.”

he even started to bow in apology, but before you can stop him, haechan did. he pushed jaehyun to the side.

you almost wanted to laugh. they looked like two toddlers trying to get your attention for more candy.

“do you remember me? i’m the one that performed baby shark with you at the main quad.” haechan said, full of hope.

you thought back to your high school days. most of your time was occupied by clubs. there was volunteering clubs, books clubs, and dance clubs. dance clubs.

wait a second. did he say... baby shark?

you jumped up and down. “you’re the one who bought me milk tea. the cup cracked and it spilled all over me.”

haechan clapped repeatedly, hopping with you now, “yes! i gave you my jacket after, do you remember?”

you nod, excited to be reunited with a classmate. your eyes finally adjusted to jaehyun in the background. admist the excitement of reuniting, you forgot about him.

haechan put his hand to his mouth and sighed, “wow, it’s been so long. i never thought i would see you again since you’re a foreigner.”

he turned to jaehyun to explain, “she was like a superstar, i’m telling you. she knew all the dances to super junior and exo. her stage name was apple.”

you laughed loudly to cover his bubbly voice. you get between the two of them before haechan can ruin any more future plans of dance practices with your crush, who looked pretty crushed.

jaehyun frowned, “you two were that close?”

“yeah, from the dance club. she was the president, can you believe it?” haechan answered for you.

jaehyun shook his head, “not really.”

“why is jaehyun teaching you how to dance?” haechan was mentally pushing you into the corner.

rather than toddlers getting your attention for sweets, it was more like demanding it now.

you glared at him, “i, uh, i-” looking around the room, you struggled to find a reason to make up your lie. you attempted to distract haechan first, “the ice cream is melting, haechan, hurry and eat.”

while haechan minimized himself from the conversation, jaehyun grew more dominant.

you looked at your toes, wiggling them absentmindedly, “i’m sorry i lied, okay? i just wanted to get closer to you. i love dancing and yes, i led a dance club in high school, but that’s behind me now. right now, i just want to run my flower shop the best i can and also find someone to spend time with.”

you filled your mouth with air until it was round like a balloon and then released it. right as jaehyun was about to speak, you interrupted him, “that person is you, by the way.”

jaehyun’s expression broke into adoration and fondness. he couldn’t contain his happiness, “so that was why you picked up some of the difficult parts with ease and struggled at the easy moves.”

“it’s not my fault the easy parts are the only parts where you can come close to me...” you said under your breath.

he bit his lip as roses bloomed on his cheeks, “stop being so cute.”

your head flips up at his compliment. this entire time you were too embarrassed to face him, or see the hearts in his eyes. “was what haechan said real? the girlfriend part.”

“do you want it to be?” he grinned shyly, “i want it to be.”

“oh, just kiss each other already! everything is melting from the cuteness, even me!” haechan exclaimed.

———————

*it would mean a lot to me if you can check out my pinned post and give me some feedback!!🥰

#nct 127 #nct jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jaehyun #nct u #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #nct haechan #nct jaehyun blurbs #nct jaehyun drabbles #nct 127 blurbs

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

The Twins

A one shot in the universe of ‘Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat’

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran

Summary: Heather and Chloe Tran-Cavill are born and Henry goes to see Frankie for a new tattoo.

Wordcount: 1.2k

Masterlist

It had been a little over a year since Henry last came to the tattoo shop. As of right now, his mom, Belle and Simon are over at their new place to help and take care of the kids. Around a month ago Olivia gave birth to their twin daughters Chloe and Heather. When they found out she was pregnant with twins, that might’ve been the most anxious discovery they ever did. It was understandable that Olivia became extremely nervous and Henry wasn’t the best at comforting, since he was stressing out as well.

When Elodie was just born, he barely managed, but now there were two new borns.

The twins were born a few weeks premature, as they expected. Olivia did wonderfully, minus a few panic attacks. Henry was so proud of her. When they brought home the two babies, Vanessa and Elodie became even sweeter than they already were during their mother’s pregnancy. He knew Vanessa was a wonderful big sister already, but Elodie has proven herself to be quite a trooper herself.

He is so utterly blessed with them.

Henry sits on the well known chair, waiting for Frankie to come back. ‘So, Henry,’ Frankie says, after he finished designing the tattoo. ‘You have five ladies now. How are you feeling?’

‘I’m feeling like I’m constantly living on cloud nine,’ Henry admits. ‘We always thought we would have three kids, but having twins… It is harder than I thought, but totally worth it. They are so beautiful.’ He pulls out his phone and shows Frankie some pictures of his two new girls.

‘I’m really happy for you, man,’ Frankie says with a bright smile, before gesturing Henry should take his shirt off. ‘You two are magnificent parents, you will manage. How is Olivia doing now?’

‘She is doing okay,’ he says, while Frankie is prepping the rest of his stuff. ‘It was pretty scary after the birth of Elodie, so understandably so, she was pretty anxious, but she did amazing. I’m so lucky that she is the mother of our kids.’

‘You sure are a lucky man,’ Frankie chuckles. ‘How is little miss Elodie doing by the way?’

When Elodie was two years old, they went to this shop, all four of them, because Olivia was finally getting the tattoo of Elodie’s name. Elodie was a bit shy, as she usually is around new people, but with Frankie there was this instant click. She smiled every time he looked at her and it was funny to see how this tough looking guy like Frankie, was the one of the first that Elodie wasn’t initially scared off.

‘She is doing great,’ Henry says. ‘She is such a serious little girl, always wanting to do it right and almost has this constant frown between her brows. My little worried princess. She is doing great in school. Such a lovely little girl.’

‘Why didn’t you bring her?’

‘She really wanted to look at her little sisters,’ he chuckles. ‘Sorry to break it to you, but you’re not number one anymore.’

‘Leave it to the Tran-Cavill ladies to break my heart. I just can’t wait to meet the other girls. I’ll try to come over soon. I’ll text Olivia about it. How is Vanessa?’

‘Also really good. She is in Secondary school right now and so diligent with her homework and is never complaining about it. She is growing up so fast, I kinda want to hit pause and just enjoy ever moment a little bit more.’

Frankie chuckles. ‘Totally understandable. You sure you can handle this by yourself now? Last time it almost went wrong.’

‘I can do this,’ Henry laughs. ‘Really, I can.’

‘Before I start, when is Olivia coming in? I believe I have to tattoo these beautiful names on her too.’

‘When she’s feeling better, I’ll drag all of them here,’ he says. ‘So you can admire our family.’

‘I’m holding you onto that, Cavill. Now be quiet, we don’t want to fuck it up.’

○ ○ ○

‘Daddy!’ Elodie exclaims, when he walks through the door. He lifts her up and peppers her cheek with kisses. ‘How was it?’

He can’t help but smile. ‘It went good, sweetheart.’

‘You didn’t cry?’ she asks.

‘I never cried when I was getting my tattoo.’

‘Liar,’ Vanessa says, who walks out of the kitchen with some grapes in her hand. ‘You cried getting Elodie’s name done.’ She sends him a sly smile and she looks just like her mother.

Henry sticks out his tongue, before pulling her carefully in a hug as well. ‘I missed you two. How is your mom?’

‘She is okay. She is actually asleep,’ Vanessa tells him.

‘And auntie Belle and uncle Simon are looking at Chloe and Heather,’ Elodie says.

‘Where is grandma?’

‘She went to the store.’

He places Elodie down on her feet and he says he is going to check in on their mom. He walks upstairs, says hi to Belle and Simon, before carefully opening the door of their bedroom. He sees Olivia asleep and he walks up to her. However she wakes up when he took one step into their room and smiles at him. ‘There you are,’ she says, sitting up straight. Olivia looks down and lets out a growl. ‘No, no, no, not again.’

He notices the wet patches on her shirt (that is actually his) and the tears in her eyes. ‘Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,’ he says, already grabbing a different shirt. ‘You don’t have to cry over this.’

‘I feel so fucking gross,’ she mumbles, as she takes off her shirt, patting her chest dry. ‘Henry, I’m really begging you to simply get something cut, because I don’t ever want to get pregnant ever again, but also I don’t want to go on birth control again.’

He simply nods. It was the first thing she said after the twins were born. ‘I’m going to see someone about it next week,’ he says. ‘I already made an appointment, okay darling?’ He helps her into a new shirt and gives her a kiss. ‘How are you?’

She shrugs. ‘I think I’m going to ask you something.’

‘Okay, ask away, darling.’

Olivia lets out a sigh. ‘Can you buy me more maternity leave?’

Did Henry hear that correctly? ‘Really?’

‘I know I said I would never ever ask that from you, but… I can’t go back to work in a few weeks. I know I simply can’t.’

‘Sweetheart, don’t stress out about it. Just take this one day at the time,’ he whispers, sitting next to her and gives her a sweet kiss on her nose. ‘But I am more than happy to buy you some extra maternity leave.’

She melts against his broad frame, but her being able to relax, doesn’t last very long, because the door opens and Simon and Belle walk into the door with both a baby in their arms. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Belle says, as the both of the babies are fussy. ‘I think they are hungry.’

Henry smiles, as he sits behind her, positioning Olivia in between his legs. Belle and Simon hand them their kids and say they’re gonna check on Elodie and Vanessa. Olivia takes off her shirt and both the girls start drinking. ‘I’m so proud of you, Olivia,’ he whispers. ‘You’re the best mother our girls could get.’

‘I love you,’ she says. ‘How was Frankie?’

‘He is coming by very soon,’ Henry says. ‘I love my tattoos, honey. Just like I love you and our family very much.’ He stares at the two babies, with their eyes closed. Mindlessly, he presses a kiss on Olivia’s temple. ‘Thank you, my love, for giving me a family.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x Olivia Tran #Olivia Tran-Cavill #asian ofc #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat

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robertsheehanownsmyass · 3 years

Text

Thank you @sab-falco!

The Smell of Fear

Simon Lewis x Reader Reader escapes a sticky situation with Simon’s assistance. TW: attempted assault, stalking

Note: I decided to write Vamp!Simon because I haven’t done it yet. And though I know the damsel in distress trope is tired, I love the idea of having a supernatural partner who could whoop some ass on my behalf. I guess I’m a little basic in that sense lol

You locked the door to your shop, pulling your jacket more snugly around your shoulders in the chilly night air. You had let time get away from you again, but people just kept coming into your store and you didn’t want to kick people out. After all, finals were coming up, and people needed their herbs and talismans.

You glanced at your watch. 12:26AM. Damn.

You thought about calling your boyfriend to come and escort you home, as this part of Brooklyn could get a little rough after hours, but you didn’t want to bother him. He was probably busy right now anyway.

It was just as far to your place as it was to the nearest subway station and wasn’t far enough to be worth calling a Lyft, so you set off at a brisk pace down the sidewalk. Your eyes kept darting to the left and right as you walked; you didn't want to give anyone the opportunity to approach you from the alleys you passed. Unfortunately, despite your attempts at vigilance, that’s precisely what happened. You were only human, after all.

“Hey girl,” a deep voice said from the shadows, making your heart leap in your chest.

“Hello,” you said without pausing. You never wanted to be impolite, something that perhaps could get you in trouble someday.

Someday was now.

As you walked, you heard the sound of heavy boot steps falling into place behind you. Shit.

You attempted a quick glance behind you without breaking your stride, and could only see the darkened shape of a man following you. He trailed a few yards behind. Your heart was in your throat now, and you had to resist the urge to break out into a run. What if he’s just going somewhere and I run away from him like some kind of asshole, you frantically thought to yourself. This is a public sidewalk after all. However, you couldn’t quite convince yourself.

“Where are you going lady?” Said a voice from behind you. It was the same voice from before, and it was closer. This time you squeaked audibly in your alarm.

“J- just heading to meet my boyfriend,” you said, and you couldn’t keep the tremor from your voice. You could see the streetlamp that marked your intersection ahead. Once you turned onto your street you would be safe as it was a well-lit main drag. Only two more blocks…

The events of the next few seconds were a blur.

“What’s the hurry?” the voice asked, and you felt a firm hand on your shoulder. You screamed. You dimly registered a sort of whoosh, and in retrospect you couldn’t be sure if it was a sound you heard or a sensation that you felt. You turned around, but the man behind you had disappeared. You saw nothing in the shadows, only the light giving way to darkness down the sidewalk. You thought you heard the faint sounds of a scuffle, a sharp cracking noise that resembled the sound of a twig snapping, and then only silence. Out of the darkness a shape materialized. Simon?

Your boyfriend stepped into the light, eyes blazing. “Simon!” you cried, and you ran to him. You threw your arms around him, relishing in his reassuring solidness. “Oh thank god, I was so freaked out!”

“I can see that,” he said, smirking down to you. “I was just coming by your work to see if you were done and I could smell you. I could literally smell your fear.”

“That’s...not sexy,” you said, and Simon chuckled. “But I’m glad you came by when you did. I don’t know what that guy was gonna do.”

“I have an idea,” he replied wryly, glancing over his shoulder at the darkness. “I could smell that too.”

“What… oh.” you said, your blood running cold.

“Don’t worry about him.” Simon said, his words clipped.

“Simon,” you said, your voice hushed. “Did you just kill a guy?”

“No,” he replied, and he actually sounded a little disappointed. “But he won’t be using his hands for a while. Let’s go.” He threw an arm around your shoulders as you started walking together down the sidewalk.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked. “I would have come to walk you home.”

You shrugged. “ I didn’t want you to have to come and rescue me. I figured you had more important things to do.”

“Hey now,” Simon said, stopping you, and you looked up at his face. His expression was earnest. “I never have more important things to do than be with you.” You melted against him a bit at his words. He could be so sweet, your Simon.

“And that’s even when your safety isn’t on the line,” he added with a smirk, but then his expression turned serious. “I will always be there for you, you know that right?”

“I know…” you began, looking away. He cupped your chin and gently turned your face again to look at him.

“No, I need you to know that. I will always protect you. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.” he said. His expression was hard but his voice was soft.

“Oh Simon,” you said, your voice quiet. “You mean everything to me too.”

He pressed his lips to yours, and you answered his kiss, opening to him. The two of you kissed in the shadows, and you were not afraid.

“Should we call someone? About you-know-who back there?” you asked.

“Nah, he’ll wake up in the morning in a world of hurt. He’s lucky I just ate, otherwise I might not have been able to control myself.” You saw a dark glint in his eye at that and oddly enough, it sort of turned you on.

Finally you had arrived at the corner of your street. “What do you want to do now?” you asked. “Do you want to go home or go out somewhere?”

“Whatever you want,” he said with a smile.

The night was still young, after all.

@joz-stankovich @spaceclone-mom

#simon lewis x reader #tmi fic #robert sheehan character fic #love stories event

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 3 years

Text

Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 3

A/N: I had a day off from school and finished some of my homework so I had some time to write. Please don't expect this consistency, it's a rare occurrence lol

AO3

Simon’s stomach was in knots all day. Several times, he felt the urge to rush to the restroom and throw up.

His first couple of days in New York went fine. His aunt and cousin showed him around all the tourist areas, bought him souvenirs, and took him to their favorite restaurants. He even got a picture with Elmo at Times Square. (Why were there so many Sesame Street characters?!) They also got him a new phone number, showed him how to navigate the bus and the subway, and talked to him in English so he could practice.

Simon’s English wasn’t terrible, per se. He grew up watching shows and movies in English with Swedish subtitles. And he didn’t do too bad in his English classes. But, he never had to speak it 24/7 before.

So, when he walked into his new school with Ana, he was immediately bombarded with all the English words, phrases, and slang – it all made his head swirl. Ana introduced him to some people she knew, they spoke to him in English, and he stumbled through his answers. And, sadly, because Ana was a grade ahead of him, he was left alone to fend for himself when it came to time to go to classes.

He did manage to fake confidence, introducing himself to his classmates and answering a few questions. He could follow the lessons just fine and answered when called upon by teachers (except in American History, he definitely needed help there). But, for the most part, he stayed quiet.

At lunch, he sat with Ana, who introduced him to her friends. All three were girls. Two of them were Latina, Alicia and Luz, and one girl was white, Elizabeth (“You can call me, Liz,” she told him). They spoke to each other in Spanish (even Liz) and it was the first time all day that Simon felt the unease in him boil down to a simmer. It was still there but hearing the familiar language was a comfort.

And he now knew why Ana insisted they packed lunch – the school’s food didn’t look that appetizing. Even Hillerska had better food. (And thinking of Hillerska made him think of Wille, which just made him feel depressed again.)

When his last class of the day finally dismissed them, Simon was ready to go home and take a nap. He was exhausted – physically and mentally. But, Ana had other plans.

“Hello, everyone! As you can see, we have someone new joining us today!”

She gestured to him with a flourish and Simon blushed in embarrassment as many eyes focused on him – curious and interested.

“This is my cousin, Simon, he just moved here from Sweden. I hope everyone makes him feel welcomed. Please don’t scare him off.”

Simon awkwardly shuffled his feet as he waved. “Um… Hi… Um… I’m Simon. Sorry, uh, my English isn’t very good. But, I’m practicing.”

He was met with silent nods and Simon almost sighed in relief. Almost.

“You look familiar!” A guy with long blonde hair piped up from the back.

Simon’s stomach churned and he wanted to run away. No one was supposed to know who he was. They reassured him that the whole thing died down fairly quickly in America. How many of these kids have watched the video?! Did they know who he was as soon as he walked in?!

“You look like a Spanish version of Nick Jonas!” continued the guy.

The churning calmed a little.

Ana glared, placing her fists against her hips. “Shut up, Darren. Simon is not the Spanish version of anyone.” She paused and glanced at him. “But, if he is, he would be Harry Styles.”

“It’s the curls!” a girl with dark hair with pink tips called out with a grin. “They’re really cute!”

Before he knew what was happening, Simon was bombarded with compliments about his hair and face. He could swear he had never been as red in his entire as he was in that moment.

Soon, a different guy stepped up, willing everyone to calm down with his hands. “Okay, everyone, stop simping over Ana’s cousin. It’s time to start the meeting! We have a lot to talk about today!”

Ana nudged Simon and gestured with her head to the back of the classroom. Simon followed her. She took a seat next to the window. The empty seat beside her was across from the guy who spoke up earlier.

As the guy at the front (“That’s Dominic, he’s the president of GSA,” Ana had whispered to him) began to go over the agenda for the day, the guy next to Simon leaned over.

“Hey, I’m Darren,” he whispered with a toothy grin. “I’m your resident pansexual.”

Simon bit his lip and whispered back. “Simon. Do we… have to share our sexuality here?”

Darren chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, you’re not obligated to. Some people are here just as allies but a couple do end up figuring themselves out. So we tend not to label or share labels. But, I don’t give a shit, I want everyone to know they have an equal chance of dating me. So, that includes you.”

He winked and Simon, to his horror, felt himself blush again. He was just gonna end up looking like a tomato by the time he returned to Sweden if he kept this up.

“Darren! Anything you wanna share with the class?”

“Nope, prez. Just welcoming our new member. Please proceed, you know we love listening to your gorgeous voice.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow at him before getting back to what he was saying.

“I’ll get you to say ‘yes’ to me, eventually,” Darren muttered under his breath.

Simon couldn’t stop a chuckle from leaving his lips. Darren flashed him a grin and, for what it was worth, Simon finally felt a bit at ease.

He snuck a look at Ana, who caught his eye and smiled, encouragingly.

Maybe she was right. He could meet new people here and make new friends. Maybe, for just a few months, he could forget everything that happened in Sweden and just be... back to normal.

He was willing to try. If only this empty feeling inside him would go away.

.........

If Wilhelm thought that Christmas break without Simon was bad, being at school for a month without Simon was worse. Everywhere he looked and turned, he half expected Simon to be there, looking at his phone or eating a clementine or flashing Wilhelm a smile that made his cute dimples appear.

More times than he could count, Wilhelm had run after Sara, practically begging her for any information on Simon. The girl always refused him.

“Give her time,” Felice said to him one day after another failed attempt. “She loves her brother and she’s on his side.”

“I just want another chance to apologize,” said Wilhelm. “I want to make things right. And I want to at least be friends with him again.”

Felice wrapped an arm around him. “You will. Just give it time, okay?”

Wilhelm had agreed, if only to reassure himself that he was going to be fine. Maybe the longing would stop. Maybe he would wake up one day and just accept the fact that Simon was no longer in his life.

He knew it was all a big fat lie but it was okay to dream, right?

Which was why he decided to take his chances that one Saturday. Students were allowed to leave the school grounds on weekends to visit the town, if they so pleased, so Wilhelm took advantage of that. With Johan driving and Malin in the passenger’s seat, they left Hillerska for the day and headed to Bjarstard.

His stomach was filled with butterflies. Excitement or nerves, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both. He ran over various things to say in his head. But, when they pulled up in front of the familiar one-story home, he forgot it all.

Nevertheless, he raised his chin and marched with determination to the front door. He hoped Simon was home. That Wilhelm could finally see him. That they could finally talk. He just hoped he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Clearing his throat, he raised a fist and knocked, firmly and loudly, against the door. It took a minute but, eventually, it slowly opened, very slowly.

Linda peeked out, looking wary and cautious. But, when she saw Wilhelm, the guarded look switched to surprise.

“Wil… Your Royal Highness,” she greeted with a slight bow of her head.

Wilhelm hated it. He preferred Linda’s casual treatment of him as if he was any other kid. He supposed he didn’t deserve that anymore after what he did to her son.

“Wilhelm, please,” he said to her, managing a small smile. “Hello, Linda.”

The woman smiled, fondly, and she opened the door a bit wider. “Hello, Wilhelm. How are you, cariño?”

The gentler tone eased his worries.

“I’m… fine.” He cleared his throat. “Um… Is Simon home?”

Linda’s smile disappeared. “Why?” she asked.

Wilhelm flinched, hating that the guardedness in her voice was back. “I just want to talk to him. He left Hillerska and I… I just want to apologize again and… Please.”

He must have looked rather pitiful because he could practically see Linda’s resolve melting. She stared at him for the longest time, contemplating. Finally, she nodded and let him in.

Wilhelm’s heart skipped a beat and he had to hold himself back from running in and calling out Simon’s name. Malin, dutifully, followed behind him, shut the door, and stood guard.

“You can head on to the living room,” said Linda. “I’ll make us some tea.”

Wilhelm nodded and did exactly that. He made himself comfortable on the lumpy couch and looked around. The place looked neat and chaotic as always. A basket of Simon’s favorite, clementines, was placed at the center of the coffee table. He once told Wilhelm that it was the one fruit he couldn’t live without.

Then, he spotted a new addition against the wall that led towards the bedrooms. Well, not new per se but it was no longer in Simon’s room. (And, thinking of Simon’s room led him down a path of memories that made the longing in him increase tenfold. Where was Simon? Was he out for the day? Wilhelm would wait until night if he had to.)

“Here we are.”

Linda arrived with a tray filled with two mugs of tea and a plate of cookies. She placed it on the coffee table before handing one of the mugs to Wilhelm.

“Thank you,” he said taking it and looking back at the fish tank that was now placed against the wall. “Why did Simon move his fish out here?”

Linda, who was in the middle of placing the plate of cookies on the table, looked up towards the tank. A sad smile graced her lips.

“Well, I have to remember to feed them now so it’s easier if I see them,” she said, picking up her own mug and settling on the couch.

Wilhelm frowned, confused. “Why do you have to feed them? Doesn’t Simon do that?”

Linda looked at him for a moment, sad again, and took a sip of tea before placing the mug on the table. She tugged her wool sweater tighter around herself and crossed her arms at her stomach.

“Wilhelm,” she began. “I want you to know that… I’m not angry with you, okay? And, I’m sure that Simon isn’t either.”

Wilhelm’s stomach churned and he took a polite sip of the tea before following Linda’s lead and placed the mug on the table.

“What happened to both of you… you don't deserve it.” She reached out, probably to touch his hair, but refrained at the last minute. Instead, she patted his shoulder and pulled her hand back.

Wilhelm longed for her motherly touch.

“But, as a parent, I had to protect Simon.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and brought a hand up to rub at his tightening chest. He didn't like her tone. It was foreboding. The gentle calm before the storm.

Linda’s eyes flickered to his hand and scooted closer. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Wilhelm leaned into it.

“Wilhelm… cariño… Simon left Sweden.”

Wilhelm’s world crashed.

“There were stalkers, they kept following him home. And the reporters wouldn’t stop asking him questions and one day… he got hurt.”

The tightening in his chest wouldn’t let up and he rubbed harder.

“I had no other choice. I had to send him away for his own safety.”

Stalkers... Reporters... Simon got hurt because of him. And, now, he was gone. No longer in Sweden.

“W-Where?” he managed to ask.

But, Linda shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you.”

Wilhelm’s eyes stung. “L-Linda… I-I’m s-sorry… I’m so… s-so sorry…”

Finally… Finally… Linda moved closer and pulled him into a hug. Wilhelm couldn’t help himself. He hugged her back and cried into her sweater.

She rubbed his back, whispering, “I know. It’s okay to cry, Wille. It’s okay.”

Wilhelm didn’t know how long he cried but, at some point, he did calm down. Maybe it was because Linda started humming a nice melody to him. Or maybe he was just spent and tired. But, not once did Linda let him go. Despite everything, she still chose to comfort him.

He had to force himself to move away from her arms, guilty and grateful at the same time.

She smiled at him. “Feeling better?” she asked.

God, it reminded him so much of Simon always asking after him that he wanted to cry again. It was clear to see that Simon got his gentle kindness from his mother.

“Yes,” he croaked. “Thank you.”

She picked up his mug and handed it over with a pointed look. He obediently drank the now lukewarm tea. It did little to soothe his sadness, but it was still nice.

“He won’t be gone forever,” said Linda with a smile. “When this all dies down… when the country forgets and moves on to something new, he’ll come back. Just… for now… I need him safe in a place where no one knows him. It’s what’s best for him.”

It made perfect sense. But, it didn’t mean that Wilhelm liked it. Simon was further away from him than ever. At least, if he was still Bjarstard, Wilhelm could still visit. He could still try to rebuild their friendship. And, when he was finally ready, he could ask Simon to give him another chance.

But, now, Wilhelm didn’t even know where he was. And Linda clearly didn’t want to tell him, worried she was about Simon’s safety. (A part of him wondered if she was also protecting Simon from Wilhelm. That thought hurt but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.)

“Would you like to stay for lunch?” Linda asked. “It’s kind of lonely with just me now, with Sara at Hillerska and Simon...” She trailed off and sighed.

Wilhelm pressed his lips together. “I don’t want to impose.”

She patted his arm and offered a smile. “Not at all. Your bodyguards can join us, too. I have plenty. I’m still not used to eating alone.”

The temptation was too good to resist. Besides, he didn’t want to return to Hillerska and suffer through a meal where August only sat a couple of chairs away, always wanting to talk to him even though Wilhelm never responded.

“Alright,” he agreed, smiling back.

Linda beamed and stood up. “Okay, good. I’m almost done cooking. Make yourself at home.”

“Can I… Can I feed Simon’s fish?” he asked, nervously.

Linda chuckled. “Of course. Their food is right on top. You can just move the cover. Simon says four shakes is enough.”

With one last smile at him, she gathered up their mugs (she left the cookies on the table) and headed off to the kitchen. He heard her extend the invitation to Malin, who thanked her and promised to call Johan in.

Pulling himself together, Wilhelm stood up and approached the fish tank. A small container labeled “fish food” in Simon’s familiar print was on top. He picked it up before carefully moving the cover to the side. He counted out four shakes and watched as the little bits of food floated down towards Olle, Oski, Felle, and a fourth fish whose name Simon never told him (because Wilhelm had distracted him enough to forget).

“I miss him,” he whispered, watching them eat. “I bet you, guys, do too, right?”

The fish ignored him.

Were they mad at him, he wondered? Did they know what he did? Did Simon cry in front of them?

Sighing, Wilhelm put the cover back and the fish food on top of it. Then, he headed off to the kitchen to help Linda set the table.

It was the least he could do.

...

A/N: Yes, I went back to watch the scene and counted Simon's fish lol

#young royals #young royals fanfic #simon x wilhelm

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sncwbaz · 3 years

Text

left on read.

Once a year I rise from the ashes to write a fic for the Carry On Countdown. This time about troubled boys and their unexpected late night texts. I hope you enjoy.

(This takes place somewhere before Wayward Son I think? Maybe?)

link to ao3

+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+

He felt stupid about it, but there were times when Baz missed the Watford catacombs. He specifically missed them as he lay awake at unreasonable hours, with his head full of worries. He knew it wasn’t a good place to long back to. Not a good time in his life to long back to, either. However, it had been nice to have a place to retreat to when the voices in his head wouldn’t quiet down. It had been a good place to feel lonely; in the catacombs his loneliness just became part of the scenery, whereas in his London flat it turned the air so heavy that he felt constantly weighted down.

It had been good to have a physical place to put his emotions. Now that he lacked such a place, he resulted to outsmarting and outrunning all the feelings and thoughts that tugged at him.

Baz rolled over in his bed and reached for his phone, that he unwisely kept on his nightstand where it could act as a perfect distraction from sleeping. He knew he wasn’t sleeping tonight anyway, though, so it didn’t matter if the brightness of his phone screen kept him further from a proper night’s rest. If he found himself feeling nostalgic to his angst-ridden days at Watford, then he truly was in a bad place.

He unlocked his phone and, without much thought, found his way to his text conversation with Simon. The conversation was mostly one-sided, as had been normal the last few months. Both with texting and real life conversations. Most of the texts were Baz asking Simon practical questions: If he wanted something from from supermarket (butter), if Baz should come over on Friday to cook dinner for him (sure), if Simon wanted back his hoodie that he’d left at Baz’s flat way back when (no answer).

Looking at the text only made Baz feel lonelier, but he still clung to them like they were a life line. Simon was still there, just… less.

Baz scrolled all the way down again, to the last text he’d sent Simon the previous evening.

Baz (21:39) - Will you let me know if you need anything from me?

He’d sent this unprompted. The fact that it had gone unanswered was answer enough for Baz. Simon wouldn’t ask for help, which left Baz with a permanent furrowed brow.

Baz stared at the texts long enough that his screen almost turned to black again. He was about to close out of the app when a tiny speech bubble with moving dots appeared at the bottom of the chat. It took him a moment and a held breath to figure out what this meant. Simon was typing.

Simon was awake, with his chat to Baz open. And Simon was typing.

Baz’s heart was suddenly racing. He sat up in bed as he waited for Simon to finish typing.

But then the speech bubble disappeared, and no text followed. Baz waited for a bit, but nothing came. Baz considered the option that he might have imagined the little speech bubble, but his breathlessness told him otherwise.

Even more awake than before, Baz kept staring at his lit phone screen.

Will you let me know if you need anything from me?

What if Simon had been trying? Baz decided to bite the bullet and typed out a message himself.

Baz (03:12) - Hey, are you awake?

The longer he waited for an answer, the more he regretted sending the text in the first place. Something in Baz kept telling him that he shouldn’t push Simon. That he should follow the pace Simon set for them. That he shouldn’t ask more questions than Simon would have the energy to answer. That he shouldn’t want more from Simon than Simon was willing to give.

But he felt alone and sad, and his inability to reach Simon was eating at him more than the voice that told him that he should leave Simon alone.

When Baz almost lost hope that Simon would reply, the little speech bubble with the moving dots reappeared, causing Baz to still completely.

This time the speech bubble really did turn into an actual message.

Simon (03:29) - Yeah

It wasn’t much—barely a word—but it was something. Baz took a few deep breaths, and decided to take Simon’s short reply as an invitation.

Baz (03:30) - What’s keeping you awake?

Baz’s heart did a leap as Simon started typing back almost instantly. Simon had been typing for a while, but Baz only got a one word reply.

Simon (03:32) - Caffeine

Baz snorted despite himself. Considering the time it had taken Simon to type such a short message, it had probably gone through many revisions. Baz knew he wasn’t getting the full truth. However, it was an answer nonetheless, which was more than Baz could have hoped for.

Baz lay back down in bed, and wondered shortly how to follow up on Simon’s text, but he didn’t get the chance to come up with anything.

Simon (03:32) - What’s keeping you awake?

Baz (03:33) - My head won’t quiet down. It’s full with uni stuff.

Baz contemplated for a moment before sending an additional message, his fingers shaking with adrenaline as he pressed send.

Baz (03:33) - And you.

Simon (03:34) - Oh

Baz (03:34) - Yeah.

Baz couldn’t stand the idea of allowing a silence to fall between them at this moment, so he continued typing.

Baz (03:34) - Perhaps I was missing you

Simon (03:35) - You were here yesterday

Baz (03:35) - Well, yes. You’re saying you don’t miss me after not seeing me for a single day?

Simon (03:35) - Don’t be ridiculous

Baz (03:36) - And how exactly am I being ridiculous?

Simon (03:36) - I always miss you.

Something stilled in Baz. He didn’t know if it was his heart, or simply his breathing.

Baz (03:36) - You don’t have to, you know.

Baz (03:36) - I mean

Baz (03:36) - You can always reach out to me when you miss me.

Simon (03:37) - Okay

Simon (03:37) - I think I know that

Baz (03:37) - You *think* you know?

Simon (03:37) - Things aren’t always clear in my head. Not used to thinking. It’s tiring.

Simon (03:38) - I used to be better at not thinking.

Baz felt at a loss for words here. He felt like Simon was finally saying things to him—really saying things. He was finally showing him a little of what was going on in his head, and Baz didn’t know what to do with it. His inability to act as proper support for Simon left him feeling hollowed out.

In a panic of not knowing what to reply he ended up pressing the call button. If he couldn’t find the words to comfort Simon, then he at least wanted Simon to know that he was really there with him.

The call got denied within seconds.

Simon (03:39) - Did you mean to call?

Baz (03:39) - Yeah.

Simon (03:39) - Oh right. It made me jump. Sorry.

And then a call came in from Simon.

“Hey,” Baz said as he answered the call.

“Hey,” Simon’s voice sounded, cracking through the speakers of Baz’s phone.

“I figured listening to me could maybe help you a little with the thinking problem?”

“You sound unsure.”

“I am unsure.” Baz sighed. “I just didn’t want you to think that my silence would mean that I was leaving you on read. I’m here with you even if I don’t know what to say.”

Simon makes a snorting sound at that.

“Are you laughing at me, Snow?”

“You don’t seem like someone who’d have trouble with finding things to say.” Simon’s voice had a sleepy kind of roughness to it, over the phone like this. Baz melted a little at the sound of it.

“I do when I want the things I say to mean something.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah.”

A silence fell.

“I think I’m getting sleepy,” Simon said after a while.

“I can stay on the phone until you fall asleep, if you want?”

“Really?”

“Of course,” Baz said, soft enough that it could almost pass as a whisper.

“Won’t it be weird?”

“I don’t know, Snow. Won’t it be?”

Simon made a huffing sound, which Baz guessed was the audible version of a shrug.

“Maybe it’s better if we hang up. What if the call stays on the entire night?”

Baz couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay.”

They were quiet for another moment.

“Well, good night then, Simon.”

“Good night,” Simon said back, and Baz thought he could hear a smile in Simon’s words. Though, maybe it was just wishful thinking.

“See you tomorrow, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay. Good.”

Another silence fell. Baz had already firmly decided that he wouldn’t be the one to hang up.

“Okay, bye then,” Simon said.

“Bye, love,” Baz whispered back and Simon ended the call.

The feeling that spread out from Baz’s chest to his throat was one he couldn’t quite understand. He was happy. Simon had properly talked to him for what felt like the first time in ages. Yet he felt heavy in a way that came too close to dread.

He wondered if the conversation they’d had just now would change anything between them when Baz visited him tomorrow. He wondered if anything about Simon’s state would be improved tomorrow. If Simon would come greet him and kiss him at the door when he arrived. If Simon would talk about his day and actually listen while Baz told him about his.

But the heavy feeling in his chest told him not to hope. Simon was not okay, that much was clear. And Baz didn’t really know how to help him, that was clear too. But maybe, he’d made Simon understand that he would still be there for him, even if he didn’t really know how to, and maybe that was a good start.

#y'all im so sorry if there's typos or something im an idiot without a beta reader pls forgive me #but yes he's my yearly fic have fun with it #idk how i feel about it #i think it was better in my head but oH WELL #i hope you'll get some enjoyment out of it #anna writes #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on countdown #coc 2020 #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #snowbaz fanfic #snowbaz fanfiction #carry on fic #carry on fanfic #carry on fanfiction #simon snow series

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honey-hippie-harper · 3 years

Text

through the burning shell

Hello it’s been 84 years.

This is fun :): I wrote this as a Christmas present for @obsidianfr3sk (YES DAWNIE KEEP POSTING YOU CHRISTMAS FICS DURING MARCH. YOU GO GIRL) and it’s a sequel to my other fic “through the bleeding shell” where I basically try to save Simon and Hugh from the queerbaiting MM turned them into by adding a certain degree of complexity to their relationship. This is a story about gays, grief and a dead friend + Simon defending Nova bc I don’t roll with Supernova. Hence, I am not morally obligated to obey canon <3

Anyway afgdhjafghsj i don’t think you need to read the first part to understand this, and I hope you like it <3. I don’t want to give much away, but this sort of turned into a collaboration that got out of control and @obsidianfr3sk might write a third part in the future ;)

through the burning shell

“There have been rumors that the public revealing of Agent N is to include a public execution as well.”

Being all together, right there, Simon saw Hugh narrowing his eyes, staring directly at Genissa Clark, formerly Frostbite, now neutralized, along with the rest of her team.

Well.

Almost all of them.

“That’s true.” Hugh started, and Simon couldn’t help but think he shouldn’t have answered. A part of him was getting a pretty bad feeling from this. “For his crimes against humanity, Ace Anarchy has been sentenced to death.”

“Why stop there?” Said Genissa. “I would argue that his accomplices deserve the same fate.”

The same fate.

His brain struggled to make a connection between that sentence and the one Hugh had uttered. At first, he didn’t understand. A couple of fast seconds later, Simon realized that, by saying “fate”, she was referencing something.

She was referencing, more specifically, Ace Anarchy’s sentence.

A death sentence.

Accomplices.

The Anarchists.

“Nightmare deserves the same fate.” Nova deserves the same fate. “Nightmare must die… And I want to be the one to do it.”

Nova must die.

And I want to be the one to do it.

A child killing another child, publicly, with the Renegades’ permission.

A child they had taken under their wing, Genissa Clark that is, killing another child, who had been in Simon’s house, who had touched Adrian’s heart, and who had made bad choices but was still a person. The official version of the events said she had stabbed Max, and Danna claimed she was Nightmare, but they hadn’t taken any declarations or anything, so that story might as well just change.

Simon couldn’t help but feel she didn’t deserve to die.

Maybe because she actually didn’t. It didn’t feel fair.

One thing was sentencing Ace Anarchy, the man who had lifted an entire city, leaving a ridiculously huge number of deaths in the process, who had stolen, broken and burned, who had killed a man (the mayor) and his pregnant wife, who had killed his own brother, sister-in-law and possibly his two nieces...and another, pretty different thing was to allow this 19 year old girl kill a 16 year old one, who had some crimes that could put her into jail for like 3 or 5 years, but weren’t horrible enough to give her a death sentence. She was a minor. She wasn’t yet beyond repair…

And if she was to be executed, then she was still a minor. She didn’t deserve to be humiliated like that. She didn’t deserve her life to be taken away with so little dignity.

Not by Genissa Clark.

Not like that.

And, stars, please, not now.

Not right now.

It was unthinkable, it was barbaric, it was animal, it was almost as if…

A quiet chuckle.

A quiet chuckle that, suddenly, interrupted his train of thought and, with all the pain in his heart, he was able to recognize in a blink.

Evander was chuckling.

Genissa Clark, nonchalantly, was blackmailing them. She was trading her silence for the legal permission to kill someone, in front of a crowded arena. And Evander was chuckling.

Genissa Clark wanted to murder Nova, and Evander was chuckling.

“Is that all it will take to quit their complaining?”

What else did he want?

“Works for me.”

Simon almost flinched to the audacity. To the severity of the implication. To the way he was saying it. So smug. So relaxed, so….Evander it almost made Simon mad.

That was so Evander lately.

Because, lately, Evander didn’t understand anything. Not even because he had a pregnant wife waiting for him at home. There was life inside that woman. Life that had come from him.

How couldn’t he understand?

How could somebody be so cold?

“These are lives we’re discussing.” Simon reminded him, shooting a look in his direction.

“Villains’ lives.” Evander responded. “Nightmare doesn’t deserve mercy any more than Ace Anarchy does. She was the one who neutralized them, so it seems fair to me.”

Villains’ lives were still lives.

Nova was a person.

Nova was...Nightmare, but before Nightmare, she was Nova, and Hugh and him had met her personally. Adrian had met her personally.

And, besides, with this logic, then all the Renegades were to be executed.

After all, Agent N was meant to be used by Renegades. They were the ones who were planning to neutralize people when they felt threatened. But when Nightmare did it, then she immediately deserved the death penalty.

Hugh would understand that. Everyone would understand that, just like Simon did.

They had to understand it.

Hugh had to understand it.

-.-

Yet, he didn’t.

Some time ago, Hugh had pledged to understand. Not directly per se, but he had pledged it in the name of his cause.

He promised he would understand.

And then, when he needed to understand the most, he didn’t.

He said he would.

Then he fucking didn’t.

“How can we run a city, much less an entire world, if we’re busy dealing with every trivial bit of bureaucratic nonsense that comes up?” He said.

“This solves two problems at once.” He said.

And he said that to Adrian’s, their son, face. Their son, who was just trying to help, by questioning how morally correct was to do something like that, just like Tamaya, Kasumi and himself had done, being ignored in the process.

“We need that right now. And we need to be united in this decision.”

“And why’s that, exactly?” Adrian asked. “Do we not want the world to know this is actually a dictatorship?”

In that moment, Simon knew Adrian had never spoken to Hugh like that. He had always been a pretty calm kid, who liked to question their decisions sometimes because, as a Renegade himself, of course he would feel uncomfortable or have doubts sometimes. But never had he called Hugh out. Not in that tone. Not with that entire bottle of venom flowing out of his mouth, melting his teeth, and mixing with his boiling blood.

Simon felt unable to tell him to stop, after his own voice had been ignored, and Hugh pretended Evander was the only one who mattered in the team. And it wasn’t that Evander didn’t matter.

It was just that he was wrong.

Besides, harsh as that sounded, Simon still couldn’t believe that those stinky, rotting, putrid, nauseating words had come from Hugh’s mouth. His Hugh. The man he had decided to marry, because he loved him so, so much, for him had been able to see him even when he was invisible. Literally.

Right in front of his eyes, Hugh morphed into a caricaturesque villain. His hands, which Simon had held so many times, were suddenly covered in both dry and fresh blood, red as an apple, but smelling like death.

Death.

The same death that was living like a parasite inside of his eyes, the only place that other people could harm. And the parasite was traveling through his system, all the way to his brain, spinning it around like a mirrorball, and eating from it like he was nothing.

Hugh’s hands were tied, too, and the strings were made of rope, a material he could easily tear apart, but seemed to have forgotten about that.

He was like a puppet, as the press, as society, and as tons and tons of eyes pulled from the ropes.

And nobody knew how to free him, not even himself.

“Do we not want the world to know this is actually a dictatorship?”

Adrian’s voice haunted him for days. The way in which he said that haunted him for days, and after a while, Simon just accepted he wouldn’t be able to get rid of it. It had become another one of the wounds he carried, open and bleeding, through life. The worst part of it all, was that Simon knew Adrian was right. That, at this point, everyone but Hugh, Evander and Genissa Clark were right.

But if he knew where had they gone wrong, and if he knew he didn’t agree with this monstrosity...why did it hurt so much?

How did you speak to a person who didn’t want to listen?

And, most importantly: Where were you supposed to get the courage to do it from?

-.-

Nova had spent seventeen days in Cragmoor Penitentiary when Adrian said he wanted to see her. He had been so mad at her, that it caught Simon off guard.

Not that he wasn’t able to understand it.

Adrian had had a couple of girlfriends and boyfriends throughout his life but, from what Simon could see, Nova was by far the one he had been the most serious about, to the point it almost seemed she was the one who would stay. Simon would’ve wanted to see his partner too, no matter how mad he was at said partner, if he knew they had been sentenced to death.

As fast as they could, knowing they were facing an authority (Adrian had asked them to be with him in the room), the wardens brought her right away, in a matter of minutes.

Through the glass, Simon saw her, on the metal platform, with her arms and legs being held, tightly, by braces, which were equally made of metal. For the look in her eye, Simon could almost hear her desperate begs for her visitor not to be Adrian. Yet, he had been, and he wasn’t alone, which, if anything, only made it worse.

Simon, from his part, was staring at two different glasses at the time. The one that divided them from Nova, and Adrian’s glasses, which revealed the pain he was penetrating Nova’s soul with, and also the rage he was entitled to feel.

But Nova looked small.

She, in fact, looked as small as she actually was.

She was almost a kid. She hadn’t yet started living. Yet, she was locked up here, and would only be taken out to be killed.

Nova’s body was shaking, just like Adrian’s. Her chin was quivering so much it almost seemed like she was cold, and Simon felt a twinge in his stomach. He felt nauseous and dizzy. And so evil and so guilty.

For some reason, he pictured a child, because Nova had been a younger child once, full of joy and innocence.

He pictured a child. Just like that.

Maybe she was wearing pigtails, had a gap between two of her teeth, and bruised legs, because she liked to play outside with her friends. Maybe, before she became Nightmare, she had something else to hold on to. Maybe she, like many people out there, had hoped for the Renegades to come, and when they didn’t do it, something became numb, and cold, and she started freezing to death, just like she would remain freezing, suspended in History, as the interrupted life who was the proof the Renegades had become the one thing they promised they would never be.

And Simon didn’t want to be part of that, yet he was still here.

He was still here, thinking about how fortunate he was that Nova wasn’t staring back at him, but at Adrian instead, as selfish as that might’ve sounded.

Simon felt he had lost the right to look her in the eye, having been the one who promised her, on several occasions, that she could look into theirs.

With each one of his limbs becoming tense, Simon took a deep breath. His mouth tasted like bile, and his whole body was pounding along with this heart. It felt like one of those times when you were almost a hundred percent sure you were having a heart attack, despite knowing that, if that was the case, you would already be on the floor crying for help.

Next thing he felt was the sudden and strong urge to speak.

He would’ve liked to talk to Nova, but through this glass, she couldn’t hear anything.

Besides, Simon knew that this moment wasn’t about him, or Hugh. They were involved in it. They were carrying it in their backs like a cross, but it wasn’t about them. It was about Nova and Adrian. There was glass between the two. They could press their hands together through it, but they couldn’t touch the other’s skin. They couldn’t feel the air the other breathed in the short distance. They couldn’t kiss. It was scary. It was sad. And it wasn’t awfully familiar.

But it wasn’t about Simon or Hugh.

“Do you need some privacy?” Simon asked, perhaps to both of them, knowing one wouldn’t be able to hear him, even if she tried.

In response, Adrian turned his gaze away from Nova, staring at Simon instead, nodding.

“I think that would be nice.”

Before Simon could say anything else, Hugh reached for his son’s shoulder, and once he touched it, he caressed the fabric, and the skin beneath the fabric, briefly.

“We’ll be in the lobby.”

Adrian nodded again and then, after gulping, he said:

“I love you, okay?”

The weird thing was, he didn’t look them in the eye for much. He did, but he turned his gaze away pretty fast, barely leaving time to process his own words. For that reason, nor Hugh or him responded.

They left right after that, leaving Adrian alone inside the room.

With Nova, but alone.

-.-

They dropped Adrian at the hospital once they left Cragmoon. There was barely any sound throughout the whole ride, except when Hugh asked if they wanted something from the store, and when they said goodbye to Adrian.

Obviously, Adrian couldn’t get close to Max. Not if he wanted to avoid being neutralized by him, but sometimes, according to Adrian himself, he liked to stay in the waiting room, and help the staff with whatever they needed, for he liked Max to know he came to visit often, and that he wasn’t alone, even if he couldn’t touch, or be in the same room with him. So they just allowed him to stay in the hospital as much as he needed. After all, it’s not like he was hurting anybody.

After that, everything was silent, all the way home, because, instead of driving towards the Headquarters, Hugh drove towards the mansion, leaving Tamaya in charge, under the excuse they would take a two hour break to have lunch together at home. She wasn’t so happy about it, but agreed anyway, because it’s not like Hugh had given her an option in the first place. He had just notified her. At this point, Hugh’s volume was getting the tiniest bit loud. And Simon wasn’t talking about his voice.

Upon arriving into the house, Hugh threw the keys by the entrance’s table and proceeded to walk all the way towards the living room, to lay on the couch, one arm covering his eyes, without even taking his costume off. He didn’t have a reason to, because they were supposed to be back at the Headquarters in two hours and, besides, the elephant in the room was making it cold. Maybe he felt his armor would protect him from what they were doing, and from what they were still doing.

Sadly, the fabric of Simon’s costume wasn’t as warm. And as he took his mask off and placed it next to keys, he felt nothing but cold wind. He was back again at being Simon, and Simon only, without anything protecting him, in the same room as the husband who rarely ever kissed him anymore.

There was an elephant in the room, and it was killing both of them, though Hugh looked like he was already dead.

Simon tried not to pay attention to him, but when he was crossing to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but ask, in an unintentionally harsh tone:

“Are we going to have lunch or did you just want to make Tamaya more stressed?”

Hugh lowered his arm, staring at him with an arched eyebrow, lifting his neck just a little, to have a clearer view. Simon was starting to feel bad for having snapped at him, but not enough to take it back.

Sometimes you had to do the right thing, and sometimes the right thing was not taking it back.

His husband, from his part, looked rather confused, as if he couldn’t recognize the person in front of him.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked.

The question caught him off guard.

Was he okay? Simon wasn’t sure, nor did he want to answer. In times like these, Hugh wanted people to answer him what he wanted to hear and, sadly, this time Simon didn’t have any answer he would like.

“Did you take your pills, Si?”

Something inside of his body turned into a tight knot, and Simon turned his gaze towards him, in a violent act. He frowned so deeply he felt his skin itching, and though he knew that, under normal circumstances, he would’ve just interpreted this as a routinary question, this time it wasn’t the case at all. This time it felt like an attack. Like something Hugh had to take back immediately because it was not his place to ask it, that is: a question he always asked anyway.

But not this time.

Because ,this time, he wasn’t okay.

“Don’t pull the anxiety card on me, Hugh.” Saying that left a bitter, disgusting firm on his mouth, right under his tongue, which was dry. He felt like he had just chewed on a pill.

“The anxie--” Hugh narrowed his eyes, shifting into a sitting position. “I’m not pulling that card on you. I’m just asking a question.”

“Then don’t ask that question.” Simon snapped again, heading towards the kitchen to get a class of water. His feet were making too much noise when in contact with the floor, and his mouth was too dry. It was making him crazy.

It was only then that he realized they still had something else pending, and for some reason that was enough to make him stay. Simon spun on his toes, facing him. Hugh was breathing heavily, and his brows were almost touching each other.

“You didn’t answer my question, though.” He told him, in a dry tone. “Did you want to have lunch with me or did you just think taking a break while Tamaya loses her mind would be fun?”

“If Tamaya didn’t want to be in charge, she would’ve told me, and you know that.”

“Tamaya talks back when she is given a chance to.”

An empty feeling of freedom filled Simon’s body, pushing his way into the hollow all his mixed feelings had been carving at the center of his stomach.

And it wasn’t just about Tamaya, really. It wasn’t just about how lately none of her ideas were taken into consideration. Rather, it was about how nor were Kasumi’s, or his own ideas, when they tried to speak up. It was about how things were getting weirder and weirder as time went by, to the point where Simon would see a very pregnant Tamaya in the hallway, apparently fine, but stating she didn’t know if her water was breaking or if she just really needed to use the restroom (the restroom where she didn’t fit in); it was about how everyone knew damn well that Kasumi wasn’t good at public speaking and that, if anything, it just worsened her selective mutism, and yet many important speeches were given to her; it was about how Simon felt like he was talking to a wall, and how that made him feel, suspect, even, that Hugh was back to being trapped in a closet he was already too big for.

It wasn’t just about that, in conclusion.

It was just the tip of a bigger and more messed up problem.

“Well, if you want Tamaya to go bathe in her Greek goddess shower-pool-whatever that thing is, then fine. I’ll call her, I’ll tell her to take the day off, and we go back to the Headquarters.”

“That would be great, actually!” Simon laughed sarcastically. “But you know what would be even better?”

“I don’t, Si. You tell me.”

It was a rhetorical question.

The nerve.

“That we would act like a team. That we would stop lollygagging around and take realistic turns to have our breaks, because each one of us have lives, and we’re not the only ones who have needs.” And that was about Kasumi feeling like she couldn’t do it today but having to anyway; it was about Tamaya crying in the BBQ Sunday, explaining to her husband how she wanted her baby to be with her, as a baby bawled into her arms, trying to reach for his father, because she spent so little time at home her youngest son wouldn’t recognize her sometimes; it was about Evander claiming Sandy didn’t feel like being alone with her baby bump today, but showing up at work anyway.

And yes, they had pledged to do this, but they were supposed to be in it together.

“But how should I know?” Simon hissed. “It’s not like we’re a Council or anything.”

The bile was all over his mouth now, and Simon felt possessed. He didn’t know how to stop it, and the words just kept coming, and coming and coming, as Hugh stared, half-startled, half mad.

Simon felt like he was a loaded gun that was ready to kill everything that moved, for a reason and a cause.

All those repressed feelings. All those things he desperately wanted to say but never could. The anxiety. The desperate, insatiable craving for a touch that never came. For a kiss. For anything. For a sign. A sign of whatever. One single sign, that would just let him know Hugh was still here.

“It’s not like you needed the majority of us to agree to sentence that minor to death.” He let it go, and all the air, along with his soul, left Simon’s body. “It’s not like Evander and you needed such thing, did you?”

Hugh’s confusion frown suddenly shifted.

Then, all Simon saw was the embodiment of anger, with his cheeks becoming flushed, and his knuckles becoming yellow.

“So that’s what this is all about.”

There was one word to describe that tone, and that word was condescension.

To Simon, the gut-wrenching feeling of frustration that caused him was indiscriptable, and he didn’t wish it to anybody. He would’ve preferred Hugh to scream at him, or just refuse to answer at all, because he couldn’t take it.

He had had people talking down to him his entire life. He wasn’t willing to keep tolerating that.

And in the moment he stared into Hugh’s blue eyes, Simon knew there was no turning back. Because sometimes the right thing to do was not taking it back.

Others, it was not holding it back.

“No. In fact, it’s not about that.”

“WHAT IS IT, THEN?!”

“YOU TELL ME!” Simon howled, getting one step closer to him, and all the memories started flowing...more likely, overflowing, including that time when he had talked to Kasumi and Tamaya in the living room, just like as if they were teenagers, instead of grown ass people, about how Hugh was leaving, even though he was still right there.

Right there, looking like a corpse.

A blue, stiff corpse.

“Why don’t you ever kiss me anymore?” Simon asked, and his voice sounded way less threatening than he had intended. “Why?”

“Are you really going to pull that card on me?”

“I am going to pull it because I want to know!” Simon barked, pointing at his own chest, which was getting tighter and tighter with every second. “Why don’t you ever touch me anymore? Why am I always invisible to you, even when I’m not? Why are you so fucking cold all the time? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?!”

Hugh wheezed, maybe pretending it didn’t make sense, or maybe pretending he hadn’t understood at all. Still smirking, he ran his fingers through his hair, and stared at Simon, scratching his chin, and clicking his tongue.

“So...Sex.”

Simon’s heart was pounding.

“Yes, sex!” He yelled, shameless. “And kisses, and hugs and my husband! That is what am I asking for!”

“WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO?! WE’RE BUSY!”

“WE’RE NOT BUSY NOW!”

“SO YOU WANT TO GET LAID NOW?!”

“I’M NOT GETTING LAID WHILE THINKING ABOUT HOW A CHILD WILL BE EXECUTED BY ANOTHER CHILD BECAUSE I WASN’T ALLOWED TO DO ANYTHING TO STOP IT FROM HAPPENING!”

“SHE TRIED TO KILL ME! SHE TRIED TO KILL MAX!”

“FIRST: AN ATTEMPTED ASSASINATION IS NOT ENOUGH TO GIVE SOMEBODY A DEATH PENALTY, AND, SECOND: THAT’S WHAT GENISSA SAID!”

“ISN’T THAT ENOUGH?!”

“THAT’S NOT ENOUGH!” Simon screamed, covering his ears with hands.

He didn’t know why, specifically, the ears, knowing that, in reality, his eyes were the problem, because every time he closed them, he saw Nova in that chair, like an animal. And he saw Genissa standing in the lobby, playing with them like puppets; he saw Evander’s despicable smirk when he told Genissa to go ahead; he saw Adrian’s furious eyes as he called his own dad a dictator; he saw Hugh.

Mostly, he saw Hugh, and the caricaturesque villain version of him, which Simon despised with every inch of his being.

Then he was back at the beginning. At Nova.

Nova, who had tan skin, pitch black hair and slanted blue eyes. And Nova, who looked familiar when she smiled, because she looked similar to that man who had come to the Headquarters asking for help, whose smile looked similar to the other person who carried their blood.

And Simon couldn’t help but consider it as a real possibility. And if he happened to be right, then they were failing her.

For the second time.

“It’ll never be enough, Hugh.” He declared. “Because she…”

Simon’s internal knots became tighter, to the point they were suffocating him.

“How do we know who this girl is?” he questioned. “How do we know it isn’t her?”

“Her, who? What are you talking about?”

“Her. The one we failed to protect.” Simon felt a tear slipping from his eye, as he became closer and Hugh walked backwards. “Uh? How do we know that? How do we…?”

But something stopped him.

And that something was Hugh’s eyes, turning grey as chromium.

He was breathing fast. Faster with every second, and where maybe he saw anger, Simon saw nothing but deep, stored pain, flowing out of him like sweat, or like the tears that weren’t there.

There was Hugh’s bleeding shell again, protecting him like he was a small child curled up on the floor, in a ball, through a polarized surface where Simon and him couldn’t touch, and where nothing could hurt him, while everything could at the same time.

There it was.

The despicable, horrid, bleeding shell.

Except this time it wasn’t bleeding. No. No.

This time, the dense, bubbling blood was falling off it, reaching Simon’s feet, and the shell was in flames. Tall, untamable flames, that were burning the roof and everything surrounding them.

The shell was burning, while Hugh was inside of it, and nobody could get him out before he was burned to death.

Why didn’t he let anyone help him?

Why did he insist the flames weren’t there?

Why couldn’t Simon hold his hand?

Why was he so far?

“We didn’t fail to protect her. She died.” Hugh declared, and when Simon saw his lips quivering, he realized they weren’t talking about Nova anymore.

“She didn’t fail. She died. “ Simon saw the silver painting Hugh’s fingertips, as tears started rolling down his face. “She died! SHE DIED, WHEN IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME, SIMON!”

The bleeding shell was burning, and Simon still couldn’t find his way in.

“IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME! AND SHE DIED! SHE DIDN’T FAIL TO PROTECT ANYONE! SHE DIED! IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME! SHE DIED, SIMON! SHE DIED!”

Their eyes met for a couple of second, and the connection vanished after a blink.

“IT’S NOT HER FAULT SHE DIED, IT’S MINE!”

Hugh was sobbing, like a small child, and Simon was too.

“...It’s...it’s mine, Simon. Always has been.”

And they were so far, despite being so close, that they were left with holding themselves tight.

Because there was no way to get into the burning shell, for Hugh, strangely as it sounded, had never said those words out loud, because he thought the picture on the wall behind him, the one with the woman wearing a floral pink dress with their son -who was also hers- sitting on her lap, would hear him and that would make her sad.

Yet, Simon knew she wasn’t sad at the moment.

He knew her well enough to know she would’ve been disappointed, instead.

Anybody would be if they had to see their family kill the one thing they had died trying to protect.

“No.” Simon declared, calmly. “But I’m not going to go and try to convince you otherwise because I know it’s not the right time.”

Hugh started shaking.

“Si…”

“And I won’t be a part of this, either.” Simon declared, firm, still staring at the picture through the corner of his eye, yet still fully focused on Hugh. “From now on, all you’ll get from me is silence in regards to the issue. I’m not willing to be a part of it. I don’t agree with this. I will never agree.”

“You don’t understand.”

“And I’m glad I don’t. In fact, I hope I never do.” Simon wiped his tears with his palm, and before continuing, he tried to find his Hugh one more time.

He was still there.

Simon hadn’t yet given up on him, but he didn’t feel like telling him that at the moment.

For some reason.

“If Adrian wants to see me, tell him I’ll be at Kasumi’s.”

“Simon.” Hugh grabbed him by the wrist, and a simple wave from Simon’s hand was enough to get it off. Way too easy, for a person who happened to have super-strength. “Simon, please. Don’t do this again. Please. SIMON!”

But Simon did it again anyway.

Later, he wondered what Adrian had felt when he abducted Max from the hospital and left a note for them.

He also wondered what everyone else had felt when the real Nightmare showed up.

Not that he was mad at them.

He just wondered what they had felt.

#renegades trilogy #dawnie writes #renegays #humon #simon westwood #the dread warder #hugh everhart #captain chromium #nova artino #nightmare #adrian everhart-westwood #sketch

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