guffi10

fic; Heaven or Hell
Title: heaven or hell
Pairing/Characters: Simon/Alisha
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don‘t own.
Summary: Alisha is freaking out about losing Simon

 Thanks to my wonderful beta anjali_organna for being so sweet and honest, you really really helped me a lot!

~~~



They are done, wasted, lying in bed, naked bodies covered in sweat; her head resting on his chest. He breaks the silence.

-         So was I any good this time?

Alisha looks at him, slightly annoyed, sighs.

-         You know you don’t have to ask this every time we have sex.

He doesn’t really know, but he makes a mental note not to ask her ever again. Still learning.

-         Anyway, isn’t it obvious? If we actually had neighbors they would’ve probably called the police. – A mischievous grin on her face.

-         Why? - Nothing is ever obvious to him.
 

-         Because we were loud, Simon. Really loud.

He assumes it’s a good thing, his eyes light up, relaxes in bed next to her with a contented little smile.

Alisha sighs under her breath. For a genius he is sometimes remarkably slow. But isn’t it what turns her on? He doesn’t have any idea how ridiculously good he is. Still thinks he sucks, still ignorant of how he makes her feel, how she is fucking head over heels in love with him. She isn’t going to enlighten him about that just yet. Wicked, she knows, but well, she is a wicked manipulative bitch, yeah.

-         I’m just happy to have normal sex again, - she says nonchalantly, making it sound casual. She lies, of course, nothing normal about it; it’s freaking magic. Nothing like she ever experienced before. But she’ll keep this piece of information to herself.

-         I never thought I’d be having sex with a girl like you, - Simon echoes sincerely, looking at her with his pair of blue innocent puppy eyes.

She is melting inside, but puts on her bitchy face… Out of habit-

-         There ain’t no girls like me, - she says matter-of-factly.

She knows she’s being a bitch to him, but he looks at her with admiration, like she’s some bloody saint.

Fuck it all.

-         You know I’m bullshitting you, right?

He clearly doesn’t, based on his confused expression.

-         Forget it yeah. There is nothing special about me. You should know that. All my life I used to think I’m fucking special. But I’m not. I’m not. Couldn’t even get a decent power-

He is suddenly serious, moving closer to her, looking straight into her eyes. His face is inches from hers, his voice low and firm.

-         You are special, Alisha. You are the most amazing girl in the world. You should know that.

He stares at her with his intense eyes, scanning her face, taking her in.

-         I can’t imagine my life without you.

He tells the truth and she knows it. Her mind flashes back to a particular event - his head is resting on her lap, blue eyes, looking at her with familiar intensity, pleading, as death paints his face in shades of grey; her hands are pouring kerosene over his dead body-

She knows. She was there when he took a bullet for her after he came back from the future. She knows he fucking means it, she know what he is capable of, what he would do for her, what he had done for her; and it makes her choke with tears and suddenly lose air.

He looks at her with worried eyes. His hand is coming up to wipe her damp cheek.

-         Are you alright?

She attempts to smile, wiping the tears with her own hand, then takes his hand in hers, squeezing it hard.

-         Promise you’ll never do anything stupid. Promise you’ll never leave me.

Her voice is trembling with uncontrolled emotion, with fear.

-         Promise me.

She’s begging him now.

He remains silent, not answering her, avoiding her gaze, his face solemn, his features strong, and for a moment she sees a glimpse of him there. The other him.

And she fucking loses it.

-         Promise me, you prick!!!

She is yelling and crying and begging and hitting him. She knows she hurts him, because her own hands hurt, after she punches him particularly hard in the chest. He tries to take hold of her hands, but she is too strong, possessed by whatever has gotten into her, so he hugs her, holds her while she is wiggling violently in his hands, fighting him, trying to set herself free, hit him more, hurt him like he hurts her. Make him understand.

-         Alisha, please stop…

She gradually calms down in his hands, her body still jerking slightly, shaking with occasional sobs. His hands are strong and safe and his soft embrace warms her up and brings her back to her senses. He strokes her curls lightly, brushing his fingers through the thickness of her hair. Kisses her forehead.

Feels her pain.

-         Will you promise me? – she asks in a meek voice, staring up at him, eyes swollen with tears, overwhelmed with fear of losing him.

He looks at her, silent honest answer in his eyes – he can’t; suddenly all grown up, determined and oh, so hot.

Fuck.

She throws herself at him, crashing her lips on his mouth, drinking him in, as if he is the last drop of water left on earth. They are moving against each other rapidly, tangled up in sheets, in urgent need to connect, to merge, to erase any barrier that may separate them, radiating heat, their bodies pressed together so tightly, they almost become one.

They make love in silence this time, their eyes locked, like their bodies; she’s straddling him, his cock hitting her insides, painfully, reaching deep, up to her guts, but she needs him even deeper, as deep as humanly possible, doesn’t care if it hurts, as long as he’s inside her. He comes really hard, explodes into her, soft whimper escaping his lips, his cum spilling out of her, his cock softening, her walls no longer able to hold him, keep him inside. She feels empty when he slips out, tears coursing down her cheeks, not willing to let him go, not now, not ever-

The room is silent, as she lies there on top of him, unable, unwilling to move, savoring the feel of his skin, the closeness, the calm.

It will always be like that - making love to him - as if it’s her last time; urgent, overwhelming, desperate, earth shattering, bittersweet - her Heaven; her Hell.

  Title: Infinite Loop
Pairing: Simon/Alisha
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: sexual themes
Summary:  Simon is becoming a hero, or is he?





 

He often asks himself why he had to die.

He doesn’t have to be the bloody hero, he thinks. He isn’t. He is afraid of death. He fucking can’t breathe and has panic attacks when he thinks of what Alisha told him his future self would do. But he really can’t see himself as this future super man yet. He is still jealous of Alisha and him, another him. He still can’t believe he would ever become this person.

It’s all a fucking mess.

The day she dies, he finally understands. It’s not about being a hero after all. It’s simpler, selfish even. He had nothing (no one) to come back to. Everything he lived for, everything he ever cared about, the essence of his existence, it all died with her. He feels it now; all of it; at first it is despair, anger, sorrow, but then there is numbness, nothingness. Death seems like a proper option. And now everything finally makes sense. Perfect sense.

But he has something to do first.

He figures it out eventually; the big plan. Everything falls into place. Every little detail, every step of the journey he is about to take. He knows how, when and where. He has become this person - this hero. He wishes he hadn’t, though.

As if he had a choice.

 It hurts to see everything as it was again; their young selves, so carefree, confused, naïve; all the happiness - emotions he barely remembers, vaguely… He watches from afar, takes pictures, like he used to, except it’s not for fun any more. He hangs all the pictures on the wall (all but one), and stares at them endlessly. The wall comes to life; it’s moving and breathing and he’s not alone any more.

 He watches her more than others, so beautiful, so young and alive; follows her everywhere, and wishes he could become invisible again, to be near her, really close, to watch her every move, to inhale her scent, start feeling again. He's been numb for too long. But he doesn't have this power any more, and he can't become her shadow, and it makes him desperate, eager to have her again. Really have her. He wants her so fucking much, it hurts.

He knows it will eventually happen. She told him. In a couple of days he will have her spread beneath him, legs wide open, exposed, shamelessly, and he will lick her clean, as if trying to free her of every burden, every sorrow. She will lie in his bed, flushed and disheveled, amazed, and they will connect again, and again, till they both are completely exhausted to the point they can no longer move.

She eases his pain. He thrusts deeper and deeper into her depths, burying his regrets and fears inside her. He manages to forget, how it all is just an illusion, a stolen delusive happiness. She doesn’t know, and he won’t tell, and the day they make love for the last time (it’s the end for him) he is so intense, she even asks him if everything’s all right. But then he drives her to oblivion with his hands and lips and his throbbing cock inside her, claiming her, taking her, making sure she never forgets. She is crying out dirty, filthy words senselessly, her body shaking in agonizing orgasms beneath him. He is ‘fucking amazing’ and he knows it, and he makes her come hard, over and over again; she is dazzled and nearly unconscious, while he is alarmed and focused, watching her, memorizing every detail. He will take it to his grave.

He hangs the picture on the wall before he leaves the lair. This is the only piece of his world that he can let her have; the only promise that he can give.

When she tells him she loves him, his heart skips a beat, before it stops forever. He dies knowing all the good stuff is yet to happen to them. Their story has no beginning and no end. Their love will last forever in an infinite time loop.

Title: The Future, the Present and Afterlife

Fandom: Misfits

Rating: PG13

Characters/Pairings: F!Simon/Alisha

Disclaimer: Don’t own.

Spoilers/Time Line: series 2

Summery: Alisha remembers F!Simon

 Note: Million thanks to my Beta Nicole! This is my first fic in english. nough said...

*****

His snow-white skin - transparent, smooth as alabaster, nearly weightless, soft, like of a child... She loves to touch him, to drive her hands through his body until he starts to moan with excitement, and sinks into her with unstoppable urgency, losing control, repeating her name like a prayer, like a spell ...

It seems that he pales with every passing day, disappearing, dissolving in the twilight of his underground home. Empty, cold space absorbs him, and she wants to disappear along with him, but this world will not let her go. He's from another time, from a parallel world, which passes through her like a sharpened arrow. It hurts - right through the heart; it goes right through, leaving an empty bleeding wound.

Everything changes with his touch. Her power does not work on him. She starts searching for him and finds him, no longer wanting to lose. She knows that he needs her too - his eyes are begging, his body is impulsively drawn to her. He touches her face, and warm desire comes from his fingers, spreading throughout her body, making her weak, pliable.

They could not resist the force of gravity. His refuge became her refuge; his home, her home; his body - her only vessel. Untouchable, like a harlot struck with leprosy, wandering all day among cold, indifferent people; she comes every night, lies in his bed, and gives herself over and over again to one man.

Their bodies contrast, as their souls. Her dark body is a trembling shadow on his milk-white skin.

His slender fingers derive magical characters upon her skin, revealing secrets, telling an incredible story of their future. Astonished, she absorbs every touch, every caress, trembling, flushing thousands of sparks, dismissing buds of desire under his skillful hands.

How hadn't she noticed before? How had she passed by without giving a one-thousandth of sight to him, frozen in anticipation, craving attention, like a lone traveler in the desert craves water, buttoned up, but open to the world by endless tunnels of clear blue eyes? No half-smile, no gesture, not a word had she given to him, looking right through him with indifferent empty stare.

And then he came back from the future and become the center of her universe.

He knew from the beginning ... All these figures on the wall has been counting down the hours, minutes, seconds to his death. She is holding his cold body like mother holds a child, rocking him, warming his body. She shuts her eyes painfully, hoping that this is just a nightmare, and soon she will wake up next to him with his smooth even breathing fluttering over her skin. But all she sees, opening her eyes…is his dead body; her hands are clamping the fucking matches, and his last request is echoing in her ears like a cruel verdict.

"Nobody should know about me, especially him...” his voice becomes a wheeze.”Promise me, Alisha ..."

She lights a match and pour a flammable mixture all over his body. She watches as his alabaster skin fades in the flames, turning into coal, into the black stinking mass.

Flames are reflected in her eyes; she is blinded by the fire, chokes on the smoke, losing herself in a kaleidoscope of flakes of ash circling around her - all that's left of her lover. Nearly catatonic, she keeps watching as fire devours his body, trying to suppress nausea, accompanying him on his last journey from his past into the afterlife.

He disappears completely as he should, being an alien in this time, giving the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of the future known only to him, leaving her pathetic, lonely self behind to pick up pieces of her broken life.

Somewhere, outside of this nightmare, ignorant to her loss, his living present version - pale invisible boy - is awaiting, shuddering whenever she approaches, not daring to look into her eyes, still a virgin, still not in love with her, still long way to becoming the man she fell in love with.