#he lookin mad but he is very polite
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'cold turkey' but i rewrote it - part two!
summary: the festivities have begun! but you forgot the drinks. whoops.
wc: 2k+
a/n: I almost cut this short at like a thousand words but I knew in my SPIRIIITT that I wanted to add more twists and turns to this thing. It's a bit rushed but let's just say I'm very glad I did!
if you feel like it: comment your favorite holiday-related dishes :)
part one part two
“Traffic was nuts today,” your older sister Alanna sighed as she hauled a carton full of cans of soda over to the kitchen. She looked up and saw Miles, who smiled and gave her a quick wave. “Oh my god, Miles?”
“One and only,” he replied. “Been a minute, ain’t it?”
The woman set the carton down on the floor. “When did you get so big? You're taller than me!”
Miles shrugged. “Growth spurt.”
“Alright then, nice seeing you,” Alanna turned and joined you on the couch with that glint in her eye and smirk that appeared only when she was scheming. “He’s mad cute now, right?”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, “ ‘Lana, no. Not happening.”
“Come on, I’ve seen the niggas you been with and he’s literally your type–”
“Can you lower your voice? He’s right there!” you yell-whispered.
You craned your neck to see if Miles was listening. His head was down, all focus seemingly directed towards cooking beans.
You turned back towards Alanna. “Anyway, he’s Jeff’s kid. I don’t want beef with Jeff or his mama if we break up. They literally live around the corner, do you know how awkward that’s gonna be?”
“So pessimistic,” Alanna’s lips were upturned into a pout. “How you just met him and you already imagining the breakup?”
“I’m being realisti–”
“The beans are done!” Miles’ voice interrupted.
You called out, “That’s great, thank you so much! I’ll see you later this evening?”
He emerged from the kitchen and began to put on his sneakers. “Yup, lookin’ forward to it,” he stood up and made direct eye contact with you as he smiled. “Good luck with med school.”
With that, Miles grabbed his jacket off of the hook by the entrance, and left.
Your sister watched the door shut behind him with a satisfied grin. “He likes you.”
“No he don’t,” you retorted, keeping your eyes glued to your socks. “You want him to like me.”
The image of fluttering lashes and the scar on his cheek returned to you. How Alanna could tell even without her knowing about that little encounter was a mystery.
“Well, either way, do what you want,” she rose from the couch with a sigh of resignation. “I’m just saying he seems sweet. Now, help me decorate, and I’ll let you make the playlist after.”
You perked up at the thought of having DJ privileges and hopped to your feet. “You got it!”
-
Only half an hour had passed since relatives and family friends began trickling in, but you were already exhausted. One more inescapable hug and barrage of questioning, and you swore you’d have a breakdown.
Ding dong!
“I’ll get it!” you announced, narrowly escaping being accosted by one of your aunts as you made a beeline for the door.
It was Miles again, this time with company.
“Welcome back,” you greeted Miles and stepped back to open the door wider. “Hey Mr. and Mrs. Morales!”
“Y/N! It’s been so long, tú eres tan guapa!” Rio Morales briefly took both of your hands in hers before entering, tugging Miles along with her.
Jefferson Morales was the last to go inside. His warm smile was a stark contrast to his wide, imposing frame. “I see Miles didn’t burn your kitchen down,” he laughed heartily. “He wasn’t too much trouble?”
Not in the way you were expecting.
You shook her head politely, “No, not at all! He even helped me finish dinner.”
Jefferson’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Well, that’s good to hear. We really appreciate the invite.”
“No problem,” you nodded as you shut the door.
“Y/N!” Alanna rushed up to you not a moment later, looking mildly panicked. “Do you remember where you put the drinks? The alcoholic ones, I mean.”
Your eyes widened. “Fuck, I think I forgot to buy them.”
“...Now, your mother was going to nursing school at the time, so she had to…”
Jefferson’s deep voice carried over the music, catching Alanna’s attention. He stood near the tin of mac and cheese telling a story that–judging by the look on Miles’ face–he had told several times before.
That same smirk from before spread across her lips. ‘Do what you want’, sure, but a little helpful push wouldn’t hurt.
“Miles, do you wanna help out Y/N again? She forgot to go out and buy drinks.”
He perked up, relief written all over his face. “Yeah, it’s no problem! I’ll drive her.”
You narrowed your eyes at your sister, but didn’t push back. “That’s cool with me. I’ll go get my sweater.”
-
You squeezed your fingers nervously as Miles turned the key and brought the car roaring to life.
What could you possibly say to him? ‘Hey, so we almost kissed earlier. Thoughts on that?’
“What kinda drinks y’all need?” his voice ripped you away from your thoughts as he pulled onto the road.
You didn’t answer, your eyes fixated on the motion of his hands spinning the wheel.
“Y/N?”
You blinked.
“Huh?”
“What kind of drinks are we looking for?”
“Oh, um, wine and cider and shit,” you waved a hand in the air, “Stuff that goes with turkey.”
“Cool.”
The ride was quiet, largely because you were busy racking your brain trying to think of something–anything–to fill the silence with. You’d already asked about school, and you knew Miles’ parents. But what about him?
He stopped at a red light, drumming his fingers on the wheel.
“So what do you do, like, outside of school?”
You winced. Small talk was not your forte.
Miles didn’t seem to mind though, appearing deep in thought before he answered, “I draw, when I got the time. Sing a little on the side.”
“I believe you. You look like you have a nice voice.”
An impish smile played on his lips. “Is that your way of saying I’m cute?”
“I…” the words were trapped in your throat. Part of you didn’t want to tell him the truth outright, but he was smiling at you and the sparkle in his eyes made you feel funny.
“Maybe. Don’t get your hopes up, though.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So there’s a low, but non-zero chance.”
You snorted, “Alright, physics major. The light’s green.”
“Oh, shit. Thanks.” Miles focused his attention back onto the road and continued driving.
You didn’t say anything more for the remainder of the ride, but he caught you staring at him every now and then through the rear view mirror, curiosity written on your face.
Soon enough, he pulled over in front of the supermarket.
“Think you’ll find ‘stuff that goes with turkey’ in here?”
“I hope so,” you laughed, unbuckling your seat belt, “My sister’s gonna put me in the dirt if I don’t.”
“Well, good luck!”
Miles unlocked the door, and you set out on your mission.
Luckily, it only took you about twenty minutes to locate a bottle of moscato and some hard apple cider. Just as he saw you emerge from the double doors, though, a familiar buzzing in the back of his head tipped him off.
Really? On Thanksgiving?
A man wearing an inconspicuous black ski mask and hoodie stood waiting by the entrance, ready to strike.
“Yo, empty your pocke–”
Miles swung into action the moment he spotted the gleam of a firearm.
You yelped as a string of white web shot out from seemingly nowhere and yanked the gun from your assailant’s hands.
“It’s the holidays! C’mon, man!”
“Spider-Man?” Your jaw dropped at the sight of the masked hero.
He was perched on top of a low building right next to the supermarket, only his white eyes and the bright red streaks lining his suit visible in the pitch-black of night.
“At your service, ma’am!”
With a quick salute, he was gone as suddenly as he’d appeared. Like, literally gone. You didn’t see him leave.
You let out a deep exhale and made your way back to Miles’ car, but you couldn’t see him in the window. A pit began to form in your stomach, until a voice made you jump.
“Hey, you alright?”
It was Miles, who had somehow appeared at your side without a sound. He was out of breath, leaning his elbow on the side of the vehicle for support.
Your eyes narrowed. “I’m…fine. Are you okay? Where’d you go?”
“Bathroom,” he lied. He pointed towards the bags you were holding. “Need help with those?”
You handed them over without a second thought. “Definitely. You know this nigga almost robbed me outside the store just now? Then, right as he’s about to pull a gun on me, guess who shows up?”
Miles grinned knowingly. “Spider-Man?”
“Showed up quick as hell! Even on Thanksgiving, can you imagine?”
“Crazy.”
He opened the door to the passenger’s side for you to get in.
“Thanks.”
Miles did a slight bow, allowing you to catch a flash of red and black peeking out from beneath his jacket. You had assumed that he was wearing a turtleneck at first, but upon closer inspection–
“At your service,” he said with a grin before making his way over to the driver’s seat.
As you shut the door, Spider-Man’s voice returned to you.
At your service, ma’am.
The rest of the way home, you replayed both sentences in your head, alternating between the two and replaying the night’s events.
Miles had just so happened to reappear mere seconds after Spider-Man had said the words. They even shared an accent. You considered the absurd possibility for a moment; the police chief’s son being the masked vigilante would make quite the headline, almost poetic in its irony.
Too poetic.
But just as you were about to let it go, Miles went over a speedbump, causing a jolt that made something begin to slip out from his jacket’s right pocket.
Black, red and white.
You pondered how to broach the subject once he pulled up in front of your house, when a lightbulb went off in your head.
Reaching over to the red button that released your seatbelt, you pressed it halfway, over and over again.
“Miles, I think my seatbelt’s stuck. Help me out?”
Miles removed his own with a click. “Sure, lemme see.”
He leaned over and reached the passenger’s seat with ease. His breath hit the side of your neck as he moved closer, making your heart rate quicken, but you maintained focus.
What mattered was that he was in close quarters. You had to see the suit.
“Got it,” Miles said once he released your not-actually-stuck seatbelt. “You’re free–”
Before he could move any further, you grabbed the collar of his jacket and unzipped it halfway.
“I knew it!”
The look of sheer terror on Miles’ face sealed the deal. Here was Spider-Man, in all of his glory.
“Are you…gonna…tell anyone?”
His voice was hushed as he spoke. Almost small. You looked into those round, glassy eyes and felt a wave of guilt.
“I–no, of course not,” you shook your head. “I just…I needed to be sure.”
He relaxed, some of the humor returning to his face. “And now that you’re sure?”
A cheeky grin spread across your lips.
“I guess I should thank you.”
You tugged at his collar one more time and brought his lips crashing against yours.
After getting over the initial surprise, Miles brought a hand up to caress one side of your face and deepen the kiss. Your other hand reached up and brushed the cold metal of one of his stud earrings before you snaked your arm around his neck.
Miles was the first to pull away, zipping his jacket back up.
“I don’t think I can stay in this position for that long,” he smiled. “We gotta get back inside with these drinks.”
You sighed, head still pounding with adrenaline. “You’re right, let’s get outta here.”
By the time you made it up the steps, Alanna was already holding the door open. She gave your face a good once-over and stifled a laugh.
“Did you two have fun on your little adventure?”
You took one of the bags from Miles and held it up like a trophy. “Yup, mission accomplished.”
“That’s not what I meant, baby,” she gestured towards her lips and mouthed “your lip gloss.”
Your eyes widened as she snickered, and let the two of you in.
“Don’t worry, we’ll fix it in the bathroom. Hurry up!”
A few makeup wipes and a liner touch-up later, you emerged from the bathroom just in time for dinner.
Out of all the chairs strewn about the living room, you ended up seated between Miles and Jefferson. The former kept quiet, save for the occasional joke or wink thrown in your direction. Jefferson kept inquiring about your studies, which would then bounce back to Miles’ studies, which Miles then would somehow deflect back to you. Any and all conversation with Jeff became awkward, considering you had just made out with his son.
The party ending felt like a weight lifted off of your shoulders.
You stood at the entrance, waving goodbye to the steady stream of guests as their conversations stretched on, even from their cars. The Morales family were the last to leave.
After his parents went down the steps, Miles stopped in front of the door.
“Hey,” he smiled and tilted his head.
“Hey. You ready to go? I’m not letting you stay the night,” you teased.
“Wasn’t planning to, I promise. I just wanted to ask…”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “When are you goin’ back to campus?”
“Monday.”
Miles winced, “Damn.”
“I know, I literally gotta start packing to-night! It’s a nightmare!”
“In that case,” he took out his phone, and held it out to you gingerly. “Can we keep in touch?”
You accepted the offer, rapidly entering your digits and saving them under your name. “Worried about me spilling your secret identity?”
“Absolutely. I gotta keep an eye on you from now on. Like witness protection, but backwards–”
“Miles, vamos!” Rio called out from a distance.
“I’m coming, mami!” he replied before turning back to you. “See you winter break?”
You planted a kiss on his cheek. “Maybe. Non-zero chance.”
"I'll take it."
#miles morales x reader#miles morales fic#miles morales x black!reader#miles morales x fem!reader#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#atsv x reader#moralesanhour
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Missing in Action 9
Chapter 9: Boiling Point
Spy plays a prank he should not have, Scout has a realization, and something goes wrong.
TW: Heavy Angst. We’re at the turning point people
Overall, the last two weeks were a breath of fresh air for Jeremy. New Spy was very aware of his comedy potential, and every time he went into battle he outdid himself.
Something changed on that first Monday after those weeks.
There was this one BLU Scout from the Appalachians, in some hillbilly town or whatever. He had a reputation for talking about the woods like it was a rich person’s house. Talkin about some kind of monsters who ran the forest, who he was Buddy-Buddy with.
So in other words, he was a superstitious nut job that even Demoman didn’t take seriously. He always made a big fuss about how his team acted in the forest -any forest- like they were gonna offend “the owners”.
Jeremy disliked the guy because he also talked smack about “city boys”, and being from Boston he was the main target of that smack-talk. And people called him annoying…
They happened to be stationed in some forest in Colorado when New Spy got to fight this BLU Scout and his team. So that meant BLU Scout was being extra annoying to his team, and Spy noticed fast.
He turned invisible and started following the App Scout around the battlefield, saying spooky stuff like he was a forest ghost getting mad about the teams. And at first, it was really funny listening to BLU Scout try and get along with the ghost. Until it wasn’t.
His team turned off their comm links because they were annoyed with his warnings. And Appie started to panic. Spy stopped saying stuff, but that didn’t help much because BLU thought his team was about to get punished for being in the woods. Jeremy had been following them in case something went wrong, but he’d been expecting an angry breakdown, not fear and crying.
They knew Merasmus was real, but Jeremy had never thought something really lived up in the Appalacians. Now that he had to see the man horrified, it seemed a heck of a lot more believable. For all he knew, there was some kind of forest guardian out there, it wasn’t like he’d been to the Apps!
“Please don kill my team. I know we’re mercenaries, but we ain’t the ones who chose the battlefield. An they ain’t from the forest, nobody ever taught em to respect the ones in charge here. Please don make em disappear, they don know what they’ve done to yer home!”
Spy turned visible to the crying BLU Scout and dropped his weapons. BLU stared at him blankly through his tears.
“I am sorry. I did not think this was so serious.” Thankfully, Spy also knew the joke had crossed a line and he wasn’t afraid to try and apologize. But Appie was furious.
Spy got slugged in the jaw and Jeremy had to knock out the BLU enemy to protect him. Scout learned a long time ago that this guy’s underfed lookin body was way stronger than it looked. And he had that anger adrenaline. He grabbed Spy by the arm and ran off before BLU Scout could wake up.
————————
Them boys messed with the Appalachian Scout and his paranoid beliefs. Engineer knew he and the grown teammates should’a warned Spy not to do it, but they were all used to his older self. The one who wouldn’t try the forest spirit prank. But in any case, Spy looked haunted by what he did, and Scout brought him to learn more about the weird mountain beliefs.
Engineer was from Texas, which was a melting pot within a melting pot, dependin on where you lived. He’d met people from that area. He knew enough to talk to the boys.
“Well, not everyone believes in it, but that forest has a strange feelin to it. Eerie, like your bein watched by something that ain’t human. Some of the locals insist that if you’re polite, the supernatural won’t bother you none. Unless it starts whistling at you.”
Yeah, there was a reason why Dell wasn’t superstitious. At least not to most things people believed in. But he did have to wonder if that mountain plain would be a good place to look for Merasmus. He’d have to mention it to the others as a potential lead.
“Anyways, that there BLU Scout has been workin as a merc for years. He oughta know by now that other forests don’t work like the Apps, even if the stories are true. So try not to feel too bad about your little prank buddy. We know you won’t try it again.”
Somehow, that didn’t seem to snap Spy out of his funk. But he forced a smile and a polite thank you anyway.
————————
The only bad thing about the past two weeks was that Scout still had Spy dreams. It was like his mind was twisting itself into a pretzel to try and pretend like he should miss Spy. And these last two weeks, it had been mostly dreams about their time in Teufort prison.
Jeremy almost missed the hanging nightmares, because at least those reminded him why he was so angry at his deadbeat dad. He was never planning to tell the truth the old coward. Not even when they were on death row. And he didn’t say anything or look when Scout got dropped on the gallows.
Maybe it was dumb, but he kind of wished Spy turned to look at him on instinct, lookin all concerned. Instead of not lookin at all. Cause the only people that did look were the drooling, stupid townsfolk celebrating the hanging. Their eyes all hungry, holdin their stupid hanging merch.
Then again, there was a reason Jeremy lengthened the chain on his dog tags. And stopped wearing a shirt to bed. And kept his blanket below his nipples so it wouldn’t touch his neck. He didn’t know what he’d do when it snowed. Ok fine, maybe the dad dreams were better.
This batch of Spy dreams took place when he still had the broken arms. He hated not being able to move like normal, even something as simple as squatting was a bad idea without the whole use of his arms. There was a lot he couldn’t do on his own, and Spy ended up helping him.
To Jeremy, it felt like his dad was just cherry-picking easy things to do for him, to pretend like they were on good terms and he was a good parent. It was gross. It should be gross. And he shouldn’t miss Spy for doing the bare minimum when they were trapped together for months.
About a week before, Scout had dreamt about the first time Spy combed out his hair. He didn’t want to be babied, especially in front of another inmate they didn’t know, but Spy was insisting. Jeremy remembered their argument.
“Spy I don’t need your help, stop it!”
“Nonsense, you can’t lift your arms to comb it yourself. And if you get angry enough trying, you’ll break that metal contraption on your back.” Way to have faith.
“Shows what you know. I’ve had this haircut my whole life. Trust me, it never gets matted.”
Scout felt Spy hesitate for a second.
“How do you know that?” Something about the way Spy asked made Scout feel the same worry as when teachers asked him too many questions about home. So he explained, against his better judgement.
“Well, Ma had a lot of little sons and not enough time to comb all our hair. So she had all our hair cut like this so even if we ****ed up combing it, it wouldn't get matted.”
Spy went quiet and stopped combing for a long time, and Jeremy could tell he was staring at the wall because he didn’t feel eyes on him.
“Well all the same, I’d rather do this than risk your cast getting broken. These Teufort people either know how to work a taser or fail to tie their shoes, and there’s no in between. I don’t trust them to fix your cast.”
It took Scout waking up for him to realize Spy was judging his Ma for the hair thing. As if he had any right, when he wasn’t there or giving her the money she needed! Besides, Jeremey turned out fine! Yeah he’d never had longer hair and learned to style it, and yeah new Spy’s hair looked really cool, but he was fine.
He- he didn’t want to judge his Ma for anything. She was the one who was there for him, and she had enough ungrateful children already. Even if he did wonder what he’d look like with New Spy’s hairstyle.
This dream on the night of the Appalachian Scout’s freak out was a doozy. It had been real difficult to sleep in the prison bunk with the stress of being hung soon, and the people being weird. But it was even harder for Jeremy because of the metal connector on his cast.
It wasn’t like they set him up with one of those fancy hospital beds for hurt people, it was just a normal bottom bunk. So the metal dug into his spine and the soft skin between his shoulders. He’d wake up from that digging feeling then fall right back to sleep.
But one night about two months in, he woke up and didn’t go right back to sleep. It was hard to crane his neck with the cast, especially lying down, but he saw Spy standing next to the bunk bed ladder on their shared bed. He was facing away into the whole room, with his back to Jeremy’s head. Didn’t even notice he’d woken up.
Naturally, he didn’t feel great about Spy just freaking standing there all night, and he wasn’t moving. So he piped up.
“What are you doing?” He whispered. Spy turned to face him in surprise, and then they heard a heavy thudding noise further in the room. Spy went back to facing into the room and Jeremy heard Joey Murders grumble. What was he doing up? It was the middle of the night.
“I’m an insomniac by nature, and this cheap bunk isn’t helping. So I’ve been practicing good posture.” Seriously?
“Do you have to stand at the foot of my bed?”
“It’s not the foot if your head is laying over here. And this bunk belongs to both of us, so I’m well within my rights.”
“So let me get this straight; you’ve been standing like a creep at the head of my bed for two months, and you just chose not to tell me?”
If Scout didn’t believe that Spy had his ability to fart removed by Medic, he’d be really grossed out by the chances of getting farted on in his sleep with his mouth open. He had too much experience with his brothers pulling similar crap growing up.
“I thought it would only annoy you, and we only own this side of the room. If I were at base, I could just stay up in my smoking room and read, but here I’d bother you and our roommate. Besides, this way if you need help going to the restroom, I’m close.” It bothered Jeremy that Spy wasn’t facing him to talk. And that he didn’t have a great argument for chasing him off. It was quiet for a moment.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, Scout. It’s your bunk too.”
“Well, uh. Thanks for helping me with crap. At least I’m not super old and peeing all over the place, but still.”
“It’s fine. And even if you were old, I’d prefer that over Sniper marking his territory. But you should get some more sleep.”
It took Scout waking up to think about how dumb it was that Spy hadn’t been sleeping, and how obviously he was lying. After Jeremy got his casts off and had a few days to get used to his arms, Spy told him he was going to try to sleep more and stop standing around like a creep. And he did. He started sleeping a lot more.
But then he remembered that Joey Murders was awake that night. And that Spy had been staring off towards his side of the room. It made him stop and think for a moment.
Joey Murders was a civilian serial killer who probably killed some women or people who were not strong enough to win a one on one battle with him. Scout had always assumed that his strange roommate was also on his best behavior in prison but… Murders didn’t have anything to lose. Even in Teufort, the cops had to have found some reason to suspect him.
Maybe he was the kind of guy to attack him and Spy. His old man had been eating with his back turned to Joey when he up and stabbed him. At the time, Jeremy got mad at Spy and said he was getting them in more trouble. But maybe he killed Murders for good reason.
Murders kept trying to sneak up on Scout when he had his arms broken and was fast asleep. So Spy had been staying up and standing in Murders’ way to keep him safe. And he hadn’t figured that out until now.
But Spy also didn’t baby him after he could use his hands again. After he could move his legs into a better angle for kicking Joey’s face into mincemeat. He trusted him to take care of himself. Jeremy sat on his bed feeling a lot of confusing emotions about it, not knowing if he should be angry at Spy, or worried, or missing him more.
The sound of new Spy screaming snapped him out of it.
———————
Something was wrong with new Spy, and the whole team could see it when they arrived at the smoking room. Chairs were overturned and Spy was screaming in French, pacing, and pulling on his hair.
“Vhat’s wrong?” Heavy asked. Spy snapped his head towards the biggest teammate, and they could all see how pale and undead he looked. There was a wildly hateful look in his eye, which only grew as he broke a full bottle of wine on the side table. Purplish red wine spilled on the old wood and rug like blood. Spy gripped the broken bottle like a knife and charged at Heavy.
Medic reacted fast and turned on the Medigun in time to heal Heavy right as Spy stabbed him through his vest, aiming for his heart. Everyone was shocked, so shocked that Spy had time to ignore Medic as an obvious target and glare at Sniper. Thankfully, Heavy was fine and caught new Spy before he got the change to attack again.
For about half a second, they thought Heavy’d be able to hold Spy down with his big arms. But Heavy moved slow, and Spy was hopped up on hatred, adrenaline, and fury. He started kicking almost as fast as Scout could, and shuffled his arms around at full strength. Heavy tried, but it was like trying to carry an angry street cat, and Spy got loose.
Spy jammed his fingers into Demoman’s eye, then when he was still distracted lifted the right blast guard so he could punch him in the nuts. Medic was rushing to help Demoman, but Spy ignored him again; choosing to pick up an armchair and throw it at Pyro’s head. Engineer rushed to help Pyro, and again, Spy ignored a teammate for no apparent reason.
New Spy picked up the glass bottle that he dropped, dodging Heavy as he tried to catch up. Then he went after Sniper with it. Snipes did a good job escaping a backstab and any other fatal attacks, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop Spy. Jeremy noticed that Spy hadn’t targeted him either, so he crossed his fingers and charged in to try something.
He grabbed Spy from behind and lifted him like 3 inches off the ground. Then he started spinning in place to make them both as dizzy as possible. Spy still had the bottle, but didn't actually stab at him with it, so the dizzy trick worked.
Demoman and Engineer each grabbed one of Spy’s arms after Scout let go, trying not to puke. But instead of struggling to free his arms like a normal idiot, Spy twisted his torso and legs to get them off balance, and then pulled on his arms so they’d bump heads and let go.
Soldier finally got the memo to attack their teammate [it was actually good that he didn’t do it on instinct], and grabbed Spy by the throat to strangle him or break his neck. It would be bad if he succeeded, but at least Medic was there, and they were at base. Oh wait, was the respawn machine even on at night? Pauling had a lot money decisions to make and-
Spy choked Soldier right back, apparently at full force because Solly didn’t immediately snap his neck. Then he let go with one hand so he could rip off Soldier’s helmet and started punching him in the face. And he was punching real hard and fast, so fast Solly didn’t have time to react before getting dizzy again.
Sniper and Pyro ran over to try and separate them, but Spy just picked Soldier up and threw him at them like Scout’s idiot brothers cheating at bowling. The problem was Spy was out to kill, and everyone else really didn’t want to hurt him [Soldier did, but that wasn’t news]. Jeremy had a plan though.
”Engie, Medic! Follow my lead!” He ran towards new Spy and grabbed him in a firm hug. Like he expected, Spy wasn’t attacking him. He didn’t attack Engineer or Medic when they also started hugging him, even though Medic was still as creepy as ever.
“Calm down man, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Spy choked out something half-sad half-enraged in French.
“Herr Spy, we do not understand what the problem is. And I wish I could say we speak French, but we don’t. Please breathe for a moment and tell us why you are so angry.”
Spy hesitated and started to breathe better, which made him think better too. Some of the color returned to his face and he seemed to break out of whatever hate trance he was in.
“Ze smoking room? We were not.. you three were not..” He looked around at the shaken teammates and Soldier, who was fine somehow. “Oh- Oh God, it wasn’t real, was it?” Spy sank to his knees and the trio took the chance to let go of him, and make room for the others to come over. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry!”
”What happened lad? You lost yourself for a bit.” Nobody was mad, thankfully. They were really more worried than anything. Spy hesitated to answer.
“I do not know if I should say. Clearly it was a night terror I should not have believed… But I did.”
“I think ya owe us an answer, mate. If yer having nightmares that bad, we gotta know for next time.” Sniper was right. They didn’t; know what set Spy off, or if it would happen again. And new Spy knew it.
“Is this room bugged? With ze same cameras as the rest of ze Base?” He really thought deadbeat Spy would leave cameras around his rooms? Well, to be fair, he didn’t know the guy.
“Naw. He wouldn’t leave the Admin’s cameras in heah. Liked his privacy.” So did Sniper, who lived in his van. Helped him avoid the cameras. Spy sighed and held his legs to his chest with his arms.
“Then I will say. And I hope it will not offend you. It was a stupid nightmare, but it felt real.” Spy swallowed hard. “Medic, Engineer and Scout were not there, but we were told ze whole team was soon to die. You did not care at all, and…” It took Spy a while to continue. Nobody bugged him about it, clearly he was worried about cameras for a reason. When Spy did look up and start talking again, he was on the verge of tears.
”And my.. my two year old son was there with you. You had convinced him that death was.. fun. He was saying things that were not good, not health-ful.” Nobody knew what to say to that. Jeremy really wanted to say something nice, but he didn’t have words. Why the Hell was he having nightmares like that?! Nobody on the team was crazy enough to hurt a baby like that, not even Medic and Pyro! New Spy sobbed, surrounded by the broken glass and spilled wine and hurt teammates.
“I thought it was real. I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry, you are very nice people!” Without thinking, Jermey found himself getting on the floor with Spy and hugging him. He didn’t really do hugs that often. He hugged Pauling when she turned out to be okay on Grey Mann’s island. And sometimes he hugged Ma.
His brothers thought hugging another guy was weak behavior, even if it was with another brother. And even though he didn’t agree with them, their stupid judgement stopped him from being a hugger a long time ago. But not this time. And he figured he was right, because Spy leaned into him and kept crying.
Somehow, he didn’t feel like a man beating people up and then crying was weak behavior at all. Especially if it’s for his kid’s sake.
———————-
Medic was right about that de-aging curse. It was probably meant to make Soldier hurt or scare Zhanna when confronted with something he didn’t remember.
They knew part of the nightmare had to do with the last wishes, the not caring about death thing that made grown Spy colder to the team. But not the baby being in danger. They didn’t know what triggered that idea. And they sure as Hell didn’t like it.
They were gonna tear Appalachia apart if they had to, that stupid wizard needed to pay. And Spy needed to be turned back into his normal self before he had another cursed episode.
Engineer told them about the possible lead and they sent a message to Pauling the next morning.
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EVIILLL (i love that) BUT do they still make out WAYYYY longer then needed even if they're broken up?
oh, Certainly, darling. ;)
here’s the reference post for context.
and actually, that whole music video scene/side plot lives so rent free in my head, that i…started writing it out as a little mini para? i just miss writing stuff and wanted to do something fun and dramatic and spicy with legit crazy amounts of emotional/sexual tension in it.
because…oooough my god, i just know jersey was annoying and extra as FUCK that whole time. which, while diabolical, is also a very bold move bc stan was not speaking to him, like, At All and had no intentions to but kyle, conversely was extremely desperate speak to him so…he saw his opportunity and he took it, baby!
my man was Working! It! every angle, throwing his head back, his jawline could cut glass, his hair was so luxurious i bet it smelled so good, his like billowy tunic thing was falling over his shoulder, which has so many freckles on it…all while he was winking and waving his pretty long ass fingers at stan, smiling evilly.
— and when kyle does the things he did to him as raven back to him, it’s so funny to me because stan had to be blackout drunk and try really hard to exert that level of sex appeal as the biggest boyfailure on planet earth, but jersey quite literally is just That Bitch, does not need to try at all, can do it ten times better and it’s one hundred times more effective on ravenstan —
who is probably in hair in makeup, gripping the table so hard, trying to be unbothered when he’s SO bothered, hot and otherwise, shaking so much the hair and makeup team are like “you need to stay still.”
like stay still???? STAY STILL??? bitch! could you stay still if literally your ex super best boyfriend and the hottest person on planet earth is trying to eye!fuck! you! during the shoot for YOUR MUSIC VIDEO??? which i know that was extra stressful bc it was stan’s music video so it was his concept so he designed his own hell and built it around kyle and wanting to see kyle do it, so he literally played himself, rip bestie.
a mess…a MEEESSS.
and after all that happens which, whEw! a lot was happening, it was Very Ungentlemanly And Depraved, there were a lot of hands…in places that polite young man’s hands should not be…but when they pulled off i Swear kyle was smirking lookin sooo smug and satisfied, absolutely shameless, abt to try and go in for another one like literally tucking stan’s hair behind his ear, like skating his nail down his jaw line slowly and stan was SEETHING. i mean mad mad MAD!!! and stan never gets mad. like he stormed the hell out of there slammed the door And Everything before screaming into his hands.
free ravenstan, stop the violence jersey!!! you know my man is a pacifist and can’t fight back. :/
p.s. pls note that ravenstan looks like a slutty punk rock crimson dawn virgin sacrifice version of victor van dort in corpse bride but like more red than blue bc of raven stans angst divorce hair…do we…do we see the vision? there’s a vision and in it stan looks extremely pretty, wide eyed, easily corrupted & biteable. <3
#oh my god literally this entire thing is a mess#like the fact that ravenstan probably had an extremely vivid sexually charged dream about this#was like hm what if i make it a music video and pretend like its beautiful artistry when i really just want to see kyle#dressed like a sexy sexy vampire and do bad things to me#LKHDLKHSHSLSKHS JAIIIILLLLL#but like then takes literally the fattest l on planet earth bc he literally built his own hell like he fucked up so badly#he did not think kyle was gonna show he thought he was gonna cancel like literally stan wanted to call in sick but its HIS MV???#and jimmy and kenny are like are you okay can you do this and hes like duh yeah ofc im a professional i dont even car--#literally walks into jERSEY and who just winks and says Watch Where Ya Flyin’ Angel ;) HDSLKS HE WANTED TO DIEEE#AAAA WATCH WHERE UR FLYING ANGEL IS SOOO SICK OF HIM LIKE I AM IN SHOCK I WOULD FALL TO MY KNEES#LIKE KYLE PLEASE STOP RIZZING HIM HES SO WEAK HE WAS BREATHING SO HEAVILY JIMMY WAS PATTING HIM ON THE BACK#WITH HIS CRUTCH LIKE THERE THERE BUDDY KSHDLKDS#amazing i...am gonna write it i want to laugh and cry#jersey kyle is too good at this like hes so powerful#they looked good i know they looked good anyways do we see the vision are we obsessed i want the copy of the mv#but like the xxx directors cut where stan and kyle makeout for like several minutes and knock everything over#thank you for coming to my ted talk#also i wrote this ask meme bc i was just talking to rp about it and i literally got so unhinged help akshdlksad
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Hi Starry, I’m back! :D
I’m glad you like the questions and that they aren’t annoying, because every bit of lore I read is like a taking a shot of dopamine lmao. And that picture of Fire getting a hug 🥹 brightened up my whole day. Trust me when I say that you guys reposting pictures and adding content to older ones isn’t obnoxious in the slightest. The art (at least for me) makes it easier to digest and form connections about the story in my head, plus y’alls art is great—who wouldn’t want to look at it? The lore/art in the last one was particularly interesting. (Like, young Red looks like such an polite, upstanding citizen and then you scroll down two pages and now it’s like “Tf you lookin crazy for”? Was that an implication that Steven had something to do with Red going missing/becoming Glitchy? And Leaf is funking DEAD?-)
Anyways, you know what that means! Question time: Leaf Edition!
The First (and most obvious) question: What happened to Leaf? Why is the homegirl dead? (Why was Leaf being dead, out of all the things I’ve seen so far, the one thing I wasn’t expecting?)
Second: What’s the relationship between Leaf, Fire and Blue? You said that Blue and Fire’s murder-suicide loop was spurred on by her death, so were they friends before she died? Did they see it?
And two smaller questions: How tall are the main four (Red, Blue, Fire, Leaf)? And do they have Pokémon Teams? If so, what are their teams looking like?
That’s all till next time! Have a good day/afternoon/night wherever you are!
TUMBLR FUCKING CRASHED HALFWAY THROUGH ANSWERING THIS ASK IM SO MAD FUCK. FUCKKK
We honestly can't thank you enough for all your questions, compliments, and just overall being a huge sweetheart. We're really happy you've been enjoying these, and whatever dopamine you get from seeing these, we probably get like. TENFOLD, just for seeing someone so interested, and giving us a chance to talk about this wild ride of a story. So really- thank you. This has been a delight!
This one is gonna be REALLY long (I have to rewrite fucking HALF OF IT now DAMMIT), as we want to talk on the stuff you crossed out, too.
(I'll put their heights and teams in a follow-up post btw, so watch for that.)
1. Red.
Young Red is an interesting point in time. See, he and Blue had a LOT in common- a lot more than you might think. Of course, Red was a good kid, genuinely- always so caring for his Pokemon, kind and passionate about them. He was polite to the people around him, and always soft spoken, when or if he spoke at all. The adults around Kanto and his hometown always adored him for how well mannered he seemed- a real role model, and stand up child. Just a bit shy.
In all truth though, Red moreso had a very strong mask. One that he only dropped, allowing himself to relax and act like himself around one person: his best friend, Blue.
Both of those boys were a lot more immature and competitive with each other- the main difference being Blue didn't hide it like Red did. They LOVED competing, always trying to one up each other in everything they did. When they were together, Red wasn't afraid to speak his mind, signing or whispering to his friend with a smug grin on his face. Around his friend, Red could really be himself, and they both loved it. Having so much fun, roughhousing and taking jabs and just being children around each other. A lot of people, when seeing this, would assume Blue- who was always rude and a bit more standoffish- was a bad influence, but really, the two couldn't be happier than they were with each other.
... When you spend God knows how long, trapped in a dimension with no human life, desperate and angry with unholy forces eating away at your mind, will, and sanity. Let's just say masking doesn't end up staying a necessary skill. A good portion of why Red being Like That now is honestly? Just because he just gave up on trying to make himself presentable.
He has bigger problems now than worrying about how people see him, anyways.
2. Steven.
I'll try to keep this short, as the Strangled Red elements of this story could warrant it's own post entirely.
To put it simply: Steven is, in part, directly responsible for Red's fate.
It wasn't HIS decision, mind you. He barely even thinks for himself anymore. But there were things that wanted Red, and Steven is very suggestible when it takes the right approach. So it lays itself out so simply.
Red trusted Steven, after all. Idolized him. Missed him. Would follow him anywhere. What better possible option could there be?
Of course Steven is the one to drown that boy on the coast of Cinnabar.
3. Leaf. (cw for animal death.)
Finally, the star of the show for this ask (as if this isn't long enough already). I can see why the information for her is more supriding as we haven't posted as much for her, which. We do feel bad about- our ability and motivation to make art for her was severely hindered by our struggle (I'm talking MONTHS) to make a design for her that we were happy with. Her story is WELL figured out, though, so we're glos we get to discuss! And now that her design is actually finalized, there should be more visual stuff for her coming.
So what happened?
Well! As is the entire premise of Missing Numbers, each major individual is based off of various Pokepastas. The easiest way to answer that is one of two of Leaf's sources:
Abandoned Loneliness.
But first, we have to go further back.
Fire was not the only Vessel made by the Almighty.
... He was the first, and the favorite. But he wasn't the only one. Leaf was the other.
Once Fire had come to Palette town, the next Game was set to begin any time now. But as the Almighty looked down on the world, He looked back at the others that had been built, and realized that the new Kanto was missing something. An alternative option. Though He was reluctant to change the structure of the world, it was, by all means, an improvement, and something the Players would expect after the past Generations.
She was less meticulously made than her brother. She kept her Heart and Mind about her, as there wasn't time, nor was it safe, to rid her of them like Fire. She would serve well enough as a Vessel regardless- and she did, as when the Game began, Leaf was chosen as the player's Avatar. (Not quite what the Almighty had expected, but the choice had been given for a reason, so it would be foolish to change anything now...)
Blissfully unaware of the nature of her existence, Leaf proceeded to go on a triumphant adventure through Kanto.
This is a good time, before we get back to the tragedy, to answer your second question!
Leaf, Blue, and Fire's dynamic changed throughout their journey through Kanto. At the beginning, let's just say things were... Tense.
Fire acted hollow, in the beginning, as he was meant to. Genuinely, it was fully expected that he'd be chosen as the players Avatar. So without it, he was left... Quiet and cold. It seemed he didn't care for anyone- not Blue, nor his sister.
Blue, meanwhile, was NOT in a good headspace. But at this point, after about two years passed since Red's dissapearance, he'd learned to hide those feelings. The people of Palette town, including his Rivals, knew him as this bitter, irritable person, resentful towards the world for incomprehensible reasons.
Leaf was the only "normal" one, basically. A cheerful, excited girl, whose heart bled for everyone she cared about and always tried to stand for the right thing. She didn't know where she came from... She had no memories of her life before "Red" and Hazel (Fire's mother) Yuuji found her, seemingly abandoned in the tall grass just outside of Palette Town, under the falling autumn leaves. Taken in as a part of their family, she grew attracted quickly, her loyalty and love and impulsive need to protect coming to be what she was known for.
With all this given, when the journey started. Leaf HATED Blue- he seemed to despise and bully her brother more than anyone. Blue didn't like Leaf much either, but wasn't as harsh towards her as he was Fire. Fire was as... Neutral as ever. But he silently followed the two once they went out, almost as if he wanted to watch over them. Ensure their safety.
As the journey continued, over time, away from the stuffiness of their hometown, the three started to grow closer. Maybe the fresh air was doing Blue good. Maybe Leaf was learning more about the world. Maybe Fire's deep brown eyes were growing warmer.
Somehow, a death was the tipping point for all of them to finally become friends. It's absurd, how grief was the thing driving them apart, but ultimately went to bring them together.
When Blue's Raticate died, he quickly fell back to his lowest point. Angry and hateful and heartbroken, lashing out, and ultimately running away. ... But it put everything in perspective. Through all her guilt (it was in a fight against her, after all, that the Raticate had been so severely injured), Leaf suddenly understood why Blue had been so horrible before: he was mourning. And he needed someone. It didn't make her forgive him, but it made her extend a hand.
And for once, knelt over the grave of a lost Pokemon, Blue accepted it. From that act of kindness, Blue genuinely began to get along with the others, and slowly, the trio came to be friends- all the way up to and after the Championship, where despite losing again, Blue felt closer to the others than ever.
... It seems in this world, good things don't last.
The events of Abandoned Loneliness happened several months after Leaf became champion. When revisiting Raticate's grave with Blue, Leaf came across a peculiar Pokemon- a horribly sickly little Eevee, too weak to even cry. Leaf had never been the kind to leave a Pokemon in need to fend for itself- kindly, she took the little stray into her care, determined to nurse it back to health.
The properties of Glitched or Corrupted Pokemon aren't something I need to dive into right now this is already ungodly long. What's important is that the Eevee was not a natural Pokemon. It should've been dead.
It always starts with a Pokemon that should've been dead.
Let's just say... Everything unraveled from there. Fully explaining what the events of Abandoned Loneliness translates to in Missing Numbers isn't something I have the energy to write at the moment (this is so long and I've been putting off finishing it cause I'm still mad all my initial writing got deleted >_<).
The important part comes down to Leaf's demise at the hands of this "curse." Bonded to that sickly little Eevee, when the world pushed her to put it out of its misery- voices of the damned screaming, unbearable, suffocating, demanding she DO IT DO IT DO IT, you can't bear to watch it suffer anymore, after all... The destiny bond it held her in dragged her down with it.
Nobody witnessed her death. She was alone and isolated at the foot of a mountain. She thought she could solve everything herself. Thought she could handle it all.
Her body was only found days later, curled up on the ground, rotting blood seeping from her eyes, with the body of the poor little Eevee in her arms. Trapped and suffocated by the hands that killed it. It was far too late. To maje it worse, her friends were the first to know of her death.
Fire was the one who found her body, after all.
Leaf's demise was a SEVERE breaking point, and unlike Fire, she didn't get a chance to be revived by God. Her modern presence in the world was not... Authorized, let's just say. Leaf had to claw and fight to keep hold of herself and climb back to existence in ways unprecedented, and believed to be impossible. But despite being a corrupted entity, her body was stable. And so, rather than Smite her as he would other Glitches, the Almighty decided to make good of an unintended situation: He could make use of her. A man on the inside is a powerful tool, after all.
So long as He kept her anger for her fate targeted towards the "true" threats.
I could keep going but I've babbled on way too much already for this post lol. I'm so sorry about the delay on this one- life REALLY got in the way. And Tumblr's buggy ass mobile app 💀
hopefully i can elaborate more without any crashing in the next round if there is one ashfshf
#i plan to keep doing this according to questions we get so we keep posting like. Jusst based on interest#that being said i would LOVEEE to talk about the biology mechanics and nature of Glitches (bats my eyes)#it'd help put a lot more in context probably#anyways. leaf has issues#genuinely i was planning to recount the full story of how she ended up. like that but#im so tired dude tumblr fucking up really took the energy out of this response after a point#anything else you want me to explain or elaborate on u know you just gotta shoot an ask though okayyyyyy#missing numbers
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Finish the Feed and Plug the Thing(s?)
It's the thing! You know! The thing! You've seen the thing, haven't you? You're on the internet, you must like things! This one is so rare I don't even post it every day! Ooooh, maybe you should CLICK the thing?
It should be illustrated but I'm slow at that right now and I got bored with not putting up new instalments. It's got text-based steampunk marginalized techno-wizards in it, though! Magic is code and code is magic!
Today there's a new instalment!
I'm lookin for readers! And if you're reading, you gotta tell me, 'cos my hit counter is free and buggy AF. I'll never see you for sure unless you say something!
Current known readers: 3 (hi!), 1st Goalpost: 10?
Current supporters: 1 (hi Kith!), 1st Goalpost: 5?
And under the cut, a sample... er, a sample from a WIP that's only tangentially related because I need to get over the fear of showing it to people gradually or I'll never put it up anywhere. Thanks for volunteering to help me with my mental health! CW: Language, abuse, trauma, two sluts being slutty because that's how they relate to people, etc...
[Soooo... This is what I'm writing right now instead of getting the NDA out of Cyre. I know I shouldn't be, but it's getting to be like samefooding when I'm stressed. Pretty stressed due to new meds that are rewiring my brain in fun new ways, and I keep goin' back to it.
[But, honestly, Satan laid eggs in my brain, this hatched, and it's still hatching. I know I shouldn't mix my original work with toys that don't belong to me, it's tacky and possibly illegal, but so am I. I just wish I could be those things unselfconsciously. Scared to show anyone but the spouse likes it and I wanna encourage him to put himself out there more so... I'M DOIN IT FOR YOOOOOU, BABE!
[But just a contextless sample for now...]
“No, no, I prefer the kitchen. One should always serve one’s friends in the kitchen, it’s just more personable. It’s just, they used to lock me out of mine. Sharp objects, you know.”
Angel stretched across the doorway, two hands on either side. “And, are ya cool with sharp objects now?”
David waggled a hand. He brushed politely past. “Oh, more or less. I’ll give you a dramatic, screaming heads up if I have an urge to stab myself, all right? Or maybe…” He paused and laid a hand on the countertop. “Your bread box is snoring. Also, there is a sticky note on it that says, ‘Do Not Open, Not Bread’?”
“It’s Niff,” Angel said. He pulled David away. “And she sleeps with a cleaver, so… Eh, just keep ya voice down.”
“And don’t open it?”
“Yeah.”
Angel started to put the coffee together. David sat at the kitchen table, wary of opening anything at all.
“Carmine would give you a job makin weapons in a heartbeat,” Angel said, without looking over. “S’long as that metal thing don’t tire ya out like the mind control. But the rent’s free, and the food’s free — when there’s food.”
“Oh. Well, that’s nice to know.”
“There’s usually some jambalaya in the fridge, since Alastor showed up.”
“He cooks?” David touched a hand to his head, blinking. “Good Lord, I think I cook. No, that’s not me. I’m sorry, I did say I had to pick up a lot of my memories second-hand. I swiped most of them off this poor, stupid kid, and I have some of his too. He cooks. It’s all very cheap and easy, but there are a lot of fancy desserts. The boy has a mad passion for fancy desserts, and he can’t afford them if he doesn’t make them himself.”
“How did you leverage your memories out of a stupid kid, if ya don’t mind my askin?”
“Well, I can’t read minds, but he can, and I happened to be living rent free in his head at the time. Coincidentally, he knew someone who knew me quite well, and he read her mind, and then I used him to read her some more…” David shook his head. “It’s weird here, but it’s not un-weird where I come from. You have no idea.” He chuckled. “Things are weird all over, to the best of my recollection. Fancy a midnight tiramisu, Mr. Dust?”
“Maybe. If ya can do me a cannoli, I’m interested…”
“Is that what they’re calling it in Italy? ‘A little midnight cannoli,’ yes. Well, perhaps not little…”
“Pretty sure I was in that film already, and if I wasn’t, I’m stealing that title. That’s porno gold.”
David rested his chin on clasped hands. “I do love movies. Are any of yours playing?”
“Lots, I got some on my phone, but before we get into that, someone better tell you: your new best friend ain’t interested in either kinda cannoli. I haven’t seen that guy get anywhere near sex or sugar, barring that muffin, so that means you haven’t either.”
David scoffed. “When we are very manly, masculine and secure, one needs must flee, screaming, from muffins and cock. What else is a real man to do?”
Angel set two coffee mugs on the table with a clunk, and leaned over David. “Any kinda sex.”
“Oooooh.” David snickered. He added a large dollop of Irish cream to each mug, then perched on his chair like an eager girl at a slumber party. “Repressed or queer?” He laughed. “Or both?”
“How is no-sex-at-all queer?”
“Well, it annoys the hets and challenges their antiquated social institutions.”
“Aw, Christ.” Angel thudded two sets of elbows on the table and put his head in one set of hands. “Don’t tell him, alright? Please don’t tell him. If I run into that guy at a leather bar, he’ll put me off sex for life… He’ll fuckin convert me!”
“Maybe you’ll convert him?”
“That’s even worse!” Angel laughed. “Oh, God, I might’ve, a couple months ago, but we been through some shit. It’s too weird. It got real weird.”
“Anything I should know?”
The spider sighed. “Probably.” He paused with a hand on his chest fluff. “I’m not a hundred-percent sure he knows. He don’t watch TV.” He shook his head and drew out his phone. “But he probably knows. At least some of it.” He offered David a single earbud.
“Is it an upper or a downer?”
“Jesus.” Angel stood and wandered behind David’s chair. “It’s so we don’t wake Niff. Ya got ears? Ya got ears goin on in there?”
David patted his own head, and flaming hairstyle, with a hand. “I must have something…” He accepted the earbud and eventually found some kind of structure that would allow it. “Ooh, I like that! It’s catchy! Is that you?”
“Fuck,” Angel fumbled his phone and closed out an app.
“Aww.”
“It’s just a demo.” He looked aside. “It’s some shit I made up when I was dissociatin. I imagined a whole dance number, but I dunno... I sounded sexier in my head.”
“You sounded sexy enough in mine.”
Angel looked up, with a brief smile. “You’re cute, Dave.”
David winced. “Sorry. My dear little namesake uses that. I don’t, but…” He sighed and shrugged. “Oh, well. He’s not here. I don’t mind it from you.” He smiled. “And there’s something about the other name you don’t like, so forget it. ‘Dave Valentine’ it is!” The smile faded. “No?”
Angel looked pained. “It’s not that, it’s… We’re havin some trouble with Vees. Ya might wanna lose the other half of that. It might getcha in trouble. And ya don’t wanna get in trouble with that guy… those guys.”
“Oh, I don’t mind changing up the last name at all,” David said. “I often do! It’s not as if I have a family I care about. I’m just awfully fond of twee little heart motifs and… and… uh… butterflies?”
Angel was clutching his phone so hard his hand was shaking. That last word even warranted a shudder.
David got up and backed away until his hip hit the counter. He leaned against it and peered into his coffee cup. He spoke softly, “Is your Mr. Vee who may or may not be fond of hearts or butterflies a work friend or a friend-friend?”
“Neither.” Angel turned away. “Work.”
“Ah.” David nodded. He toyed with the rim of his cup. “Might someone help you fill out a letter of resignation?”
Angel shook his head.
“Oh, well. If that’s how it is, that’s just how it is.” David crept a little closer and put an experimental hand near him, just on the table. When there was no objection, he smiled and left it there. “If you ever need anyone to spot you some extra concealer…” He trailed away. “Though I doubt I have your shade.” He poked at the back of his own orange hand. “Or mine, come to think of it.”
Angel looked up. He covered David’s hand with one of his own. “That mind-control thing, does that work on everyone?”
David looked pained. “I… I don’t know how it works here. I’ve met people it doesn’t work on at all, and some of them shake it off. I think… I think I’ve done some experimenting. There are other places, other parts of me that know more about it, I might go back and remember… But I don’t know if any of that applies here. I can’t guarantee it. And… That wouldn’t be safe for you, would it?”
The spider sighed. He turned away again.
The bird offered a faint smile. “I might tell him to kill himself, if Charlie lets me. If it landed, would that fix it?” He put up a hand. “If it didn’t, you could always tell him I’m an insane ass and let him take it out on me. I can’t be killed, and I have excellent pain tolerance, especially when…”
Now Angel put up a hand, and David quieted.
“She won’t let you,” the spider said. “Not like that. She thinks everyone can be better.”
“Oh, she is adorable. But we know better, don’t we?”
Angel put a casual elbow on the table and his head in his hand. He regarded David out of the corner of one eye. “You still usin extra concealer on a regular basis? Wherever the resta you is?”
“Oh, no, I prefer to damage myself now.” David smiled. “I’m freelancing!”
“Like how you don’t like sticky drinks and hate fun?”
“He’s dead,” David said flatly. He smiled again, a perfectly hideous smile. “I killed him, of course.”
Angel sat up, more shocked than surprised. “What? You? How?”
“What?” David shooed him away. “Oh, it was ages ago. A gun or something. It’s not important. I’ve quite forgotten.”
Angel frowned. He nodded. “Uh-huh. Yeah. I shot Val a whole buncha times too.” He picked up his phone. “So, the thing is…”
David pushed the phone back down to the table, scowling. “The thing is, that thing was supposed to be my father. On paper, at least. So I couldn’t do it right away. Not if I wanted to get away with it. A person has to be practical. I am a very practical person.”
[Yeah, I started writing that part just to see if it was worthwhile and I actually got David to cough up one of his three backstories, all of which are embellished to the point of absurdity but partly true. I've been meaning to write those out forever and this tricked my brain into doing it. I had to put him on equal footing with another traumatized person and pour Irish coffee on him in a corporeal form that gets drunk for real, but I got it out of him! So I went back to write the beginning and now it's *checks* 69 pages long. Oh. Nice!
[It's gotta go up somewhere because I can't help but say it's canon for David, but maybe he just did a shitton of god drugs and passed out in front of Amazon Prime, ya know? That's probably it.]
#tin soldier and soldier on#long post#free fiction#writers on tumblr#indie fiction#writblr#steampunk#dieselpunk#magic#harry potter alternatives#dramedy#anarchist fiction#socialist fiction#new reader drive#ocs#original characters#character development#potential sexymen!#if i seem desperate it's only because i am!#wip#fanfic#hazbin hotel#pls be kind
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so
there’s this weird, but strangely appealing 🤣🤣 man who’s like late 50’s or maybe 60 idk, maybe he’s 40 something with grey hair already i d k. he is so weird. i hated him at first fr, like we did not start off very great 💀 he’s a customer at the liquor store and idk if he was tryin to be funny when i met him or if he was bein an asshole, but he made me fucking mad so 🤣🤣 i hated him. then i learned he’s a fucking regular, literally like the first person every morning a little after we open. so i decided eventually that if he’s gonna be there at the start of my mornings every day of my life I’m gonna have to figure out how to get along with him some how lmao things eventually got less awkward *I didn’t go off on him or anything btw when he made me mad but I definitely was not social with him for awhile after that when he would come and he didn’t try to talk to me either besides the basic “have a good day” and us being polite to each other 🤣🤣* but i asked him what his job was the other day and this fuckin guy said an adult film actor” or something and I just was like ???? “oh ok, wouldn’t of thought that” like idfk I knew he was lying 🤣🤣 and he was like “old guys like me, well guys my age, still do stuff like that” and I was just lookin at him like ????????? and i asked him what his real job was and he’s a contractor. i just didn’t understand why he would say that bc I didn’t even think it was funny that was a weird thing to say 💀💀 but then today he was late and that’s what I said when he came in 🤣🤣 and he said something about “daddy has to” something and I was just like confusion bc i all i heard was daddy and i wanted escape but i had to stay LMAO BC IM CONFUSHION IS THE ONLY REASON I CANT WITH HIM. like if he’s tryin to entice me or something he’s doing a terrible fucking job 🤣🤣🤣😵💫😵💫 he’s so weird and even my friend who quit :( said she can’t figure him out. like he really called himself daddy with his whole chest and i was in shock 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 buffering for like a whole minute almost
#idk if i would be about it tbh#Idek if he’s about it#idk why he says these weird ass things#it’s fucking funny and weird 🤣🤣🤣#im dying#he’s not even creepy fr#just weird#enemies to lovers 🤣🤣🤣💀💀💀#jking but i thought about that today and it cracked me tf up
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Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 07x09 How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters
“Heavy breathing. low frame rate”
“I gotta judge these campers based off of their generator. The fact that they have one is bad enough but whatever”
“Are they even camping? What the fuck is happening?”
“It’s a white tent thing, but they have a whole ass bed frame? What is going on?”
“That must be some good ass podcast or soothing seas or whatever the hell”
“I don’t think that’s the sound of nature. Maybe the sound of nature taking its course”
“Strip enough wire? What the hell?”
“There are easier ways to hook up a generator but ok”
“Like I said”
“Didn’t the gay vampires do this one?”
“Was that actually a pop-up camper? But who has a whole-ass wooden frame in their pop-up? That doesn’t make sense to me”
“Funny coming out of an actor’s mouth. Just saying”
“I gotta wonder who wrote some of these lines. You don’t just come up with some shit like “rogue brown.” I mean, I certainly wouldn’t”
“Alright. Code Brown let’s go”
“She’ll eat your ass. Dude”
“I have to rewind this. This is good”
“Why would you put those words together? Sleeping bags aren’t normally water proof”
“Are they really pulling out all these camping jokes?”
“This lighting is way too good for a chain restaurant”
“The fuck?”
“I feel like him getting mad is somewhat relevant”
“What the fuck is up with the hunting rifles? I mean they talk about it, but they don’t use them every episode. Plus, they look like pellet guns”
laughter
“What the fuck. So they went to a basic ass rifle with open sights. Ok Why the FUCK do you have an under-barrel mounted flashlight on a hunting rifle?”
“I mean the flashlight makes sense in the sense they have a flashlight, but you’re going to ruin your night vision. They should use a red light and a green laser”
“I was about to say…you didn’t need to cuff it or anything?”
“Don’t bother checking if it’s actually dead”
“I don’t think that hood closes very easily”
“You’re always fkn hungry”
“pine cones. Sure”
“That’s a Leinenkugel’s beer”
Eventually they use Jensen’s beer
“Did he name it after stuff in the show? What a nerd”
“That’s pretty fucked up”
“He should probably go puke now”
“Why the fuck do you need a white tyvek overalls for delivery groceries?”
“You wouldn’t be handling the food; youre handling the boxes”
“What a fkn die job”
“Whose crotch are we watching? I can’t tell”
“Dick must be a real dick”
“That makes sense. I mean he does keep coming back to life so Bobby might get the chance”
“We’ve got black SUVs with terrible fitment. Must be government”
laughter
“That was a Hollywood political statement”
“Wouldn’t eating turducken on the daily cause weight gain already?”
“How are you supposed to hear what it hears when your voice is reflecting off the concrete in front of you?”
“I mean, if you had the gains set high enough, you’d shatter your eardrums, but they shoot guns a lot with no protection so their hearing is already fucked.”
“Does he have to eat his own hand or something?”
“Pretty good lookin’ gun. Nice and polished.”
“Grab the other gun, Bobby”
“That was some Mummy shit right there”
“Bobby’s being slow”
“is he dead or something? Fuck”
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1989 vault lyrics
"slut!"
what if all i need is you?
if I'm all dressed up they might as well be lookin' at us
if they call me a slut you know it might be worth it for once
in a world of boys, he's a gentleman
love to think you'll never forget
we'll pay the price, I guess
you're not sayin' you're in love with me but you're going to
it's a big mistake
it might blow up in your pretty face
"say don't go"
i've known it from the very start we're a shot in the darkest dark
the waiting is a sadness fading into madness
halfway out the door, but it won't close
i'm holding out hope for you to say, "don't go"
i would stay forever if you say, "don't go"
why'd you have to lead me on?
why'd you have to twist the knife?
walk away and leave me bleeding
why'd you whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night?
now your silence has me screaming
it's not fair 'cause you kiss me and it stops time
and I'm yours, but you're not mine
i wait for you to drive by
i was trying to see the cards that you won't show
why'd you have to make me want you?
why'd you have to give me nothing back?
i said, "i love you," you say nothing back
i want you more but you won't say "don't go"
"now that we don't talk"
you went to a party, I heard from everybody
you part the crowd like the red sea, don't even get me started
did you get anxious though, on the way home?
i guess i'll never, ever know now that we don't talk
from the outside, it looks like you're trying lives on
i miss the old ways, you didn't have to change
but i guess i don't have a say now that we don't talk
remind myself the more i gave, you'd want me less
i cannot be your friend, so i pay the price of what i lost
so i pay the price of what i lost and what it cost
what do you tell your friends we shared dinners, long weekends with?
truth is, i can't pretend it's platonic, it's just ended, so
guess maybe i am better off now that we don't talk
and the only way back to my dignity was to turn into a shrouded mystery
guess this is how it has to be now that we don't talk
"suburban legends"
you had people who called you on unmarked numbers in my peripheral vision
you were so magnetic, it was almost obnoxious
i was always turning out my empty pockets
when it came to you i didn't come here to make friends
we were born to be suburban legends
when you hold me, it holds me together
you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever
i had the fantasy that maybe our mismatched star signs would surprise the whole school when i ended up back at our class reunion walking in with you
you'd be more than a chapter in my old diaries with the pages ripped out
i am standing in a 1950s gymnasium and i can still see you now
i know that you still remember
we were born to be national treasures when you told me we'd get back together
i broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it
you don't knock anymore, and my whole life's ruined
"is it over now?
i slept all alone, you still wouldn't go
let's fast forward to 300 takeout coffees later
i see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters
you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor
you search in every maiden's bed for something greater
baby, was it over when she laid down on your couch?
was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?
baby, was it over then? and is it over now?
is it over now?
your new girl is my clone
and did you think i didn't see you? there were flashing lights
at least i had the decency to keep my nights out of sight
i think about jumping off of very tall somethings just to see you come running
let's fast forward to 300 awkward blind dates later
if she's got blue eyes, i will surmise that you'll probably date her
you search in every model's bed for something greater
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There's a man in the pasture today, standing on the edge just behind the ward-line looking confused as to why he can't come any closer.
The dogs are upset by his presence and keep herding the sheep into tighter and tighter knots to keep them away from this stranger. They won't let you close either, and that's a first.
You're a big bunny, you can handle yourself in most cases, but the animals don't seem to think this is one of those cases.
You stand just outside the knot of agitated animals to stressed to even pick at the rain-wet grass and ankle high dandelions, with their yolk-yellow blooms the size of your fist.
You watch the man, and don't speak for a very long time. Some part of you hoping he'll just mosey on to wherever he's supposed to be, but of course he doesn't.
He is not a small man, broad shouldered, and heavily muscled like a football player with a square jaw that probably broke hearts in high school but now just makes him look intimidating. His hair is gray, cut short, and his eyes are a very cold blue that you swear you've seen somewhere before but can't place in this exact moment, they sit under a pair of heavy gray brows that seem to be permanently set into an expression of deep disappointment.
He's also completely unmodified and that makes you itch for reasons unknown.
All in all he's painfully masculine in a way that makes you feel vaguely unsafe, like under different circumstances he'd call you a slur.
You take a step towards the man only for your dog, Twoby, to put himself in front of you. You don't have to touch his mind to feel his distrust and agitation, one of his heads fixed on the stranger and the other on you.
You kiss Twoby on both noses and tell him to move the sheep inside, he's hesitant to comply but his desire to be a Good Boy is stronger than the unease he feels around this strange man.
The man is looking at you as you approach, and you do your best to make your voice as organic sounding as possible, "Can I help you?"
You watch the stranger's face move, melting through a wave of obvious disgust and annoyance before settling into something painfully polite, as if being nice to you was going to be a chore.
Like he's hated you from moment one, but he needs your help for whatever, so he's gonna play nice.
For now.
When he speaks, his voice has teeth.
Words twisted into the shape of an animal half crouched, teeth bared in what an idiot might consider a smile. "Yeah, I'm lookin' for someone, maybe you can help."
You smile, closed mouthed and tight lipped. "Maybe I can! Who are you looking for?"
You feel unsafe.
The man continues, Texan twang layered over a growl that makes your skin crawl, and when he reaches into his back pocket for something you almost bolt, expecting him to pull a gun or a badge. "Couple'a kids, bout this big. I can show ya pictures. Been told they been seen round here."
He holds a photograph out to you as best he can with the wards in the way, it's a photo of two children, one holding a pink plush bunny with a cowboy hat.
Hunbun and Lily.
All you can say is "...huh." in response, but your hearts turn to ice and shatter at the realization.
You feel unsafe.
You feel unsafe.
You feel unsafe.
Kill him.
Your eyes snap from the photo to the man's face, and then to his hands. You imagine them around tiny limbs, squeezing and pulling until they break.
You imagine his voice at full volume.
You imagine your teeth in his throat, him spasming beneath your bulk. Hands weakly flailing as the life drains out of him with each shuddering motion until he is quiet and still and can't hurt anybody else ever again.
You haven't been this mad in a very very long time.
But still, you smile sadly and shake your head. Sure, you can't lie but if you choose your words carefully, you can mislead and omit, and that's just as good.
"I'll keep an eye out for them," You will, "But I don't think they're around here." And they aren't, not in this exact place at this exact time, they're inside where it's safe and dry.
The man studies your face for a moment, grunts and turns to leave. He doesn't thank you for your time, or apologize for the inconvenience. He acts like you wasted HIS time just by existing.
As he saunters off back into the Zone, you uncurl the fist you didn't know you'd made. Your palm is sticky with blood, the half moon marks where your nails bit into your skin weep freely and send starlight droplets into the grass that bloom and become black roses with teeth deep in their petals.
That's enough fresh air for today.
You feel unsafe.
#ic#long post#dead dove do not eat#action post#jujulebee#child abuse#death#blood#gore#dogs#broken limbs#repetition
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6.2 MSQ spoiler thread [estinien voice] kumbhira ribeye baby [varshahn voice] did he drop it in dirt
YOUR...BABY HEAD? THE... NO BEARD SCALES?
howling screaming best himalayan salt lamp ever
this is so. LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO
this party comp is nice...yshtola is my forever gamer and estiniens a funny guy. and big varshahn is um. big varshahn. also first time i think they've ever left the autofill as healer for the pc lol
ohhh i looove the twisted surrounds. and god making varshahn pull more in his newly minted freshman meatsuit sorry for the evil
watching his ass use shield lob 5 times in a row for an enemy right next to him. Yea you need to be a dragon
*taking pics of everything* I have to show cylva does she know this lady.
yshtola asking if voidsent appreciate flowers too...man they kind of screwed themselves over by making the void already in CT when their aesthetic sense was erm worse but they really are making the best of it. it looks cool even if halloweeny
common tongue between norvrandt and the 13th...is that the weenis woonis or was there a different babel event. ohh thinking about the golden dhyata now
oh man she's cool.
also people were mad about this line weren't they? i dont get it that's pretty par for the course for the bodyjacker guy
her voice is so nice lol
"are you his friend" "im gourd I dont know anything about that" most ic response laughed like hell. also people said these choices were mean they arent even half as mean as I want them to be sorry to the lovers
YSHTOLA NOT YOUR AETHER LMFAOOO LET GOURD GIVE HIS GIRL YOUA RE FUCKINGGGG PUTTING GAS ON THE PEDAL 24/7
oh so she's like vaulthry
her little hat tilt...moe
why doesnt...like...why dont we just kill the guy or. gourd absorbs the aether. i know suspended disbelief needed here just man
yshtola being the one to give zero her name...the way they. Well.
also she's still cool but she's also very lame. win
...sorry fray
statue of a guy who died doing passage of arms
im lookin for thos deepeyes...
man these little guys can have a little aether. it's fine gourd has a lot and he never fucking uses it except all at once I guess
zero's little sad house of nobodies. love it. yes the house and heart yshtola
SHE'S SUCH A BORN IN A WET CARDBOARD BOX ALL ALONE LMFAOOO HER HIDEOUT...NO NAME...ONLY KNOWS TRANSACTIONAL BONDS...so real. the oc of desolate 12 year olds everywhere
girl you got snot fountain in your mind palace
ok I know barbariccia is naked lady boss #43461 but hi. you're green as hell like pea soup
wtf she killed those little dudes. they were just hanging out
host says they cant seat us until everyones here wol sighs and takes out their azem crystal
snot hair lady a little fun
NO deepeyes in the void :(
aw ciriatto is relieved and says farfarello quieted down after we slonked her shit
SO FUNNY MAKING ESTINIEN CARRY HER? SO FUNNY ALSO PRETENDING THE WOL DOESNT HAVE MASSIVE AETHER RESERVES YET AGAIN
yesss lets feed zero zero feast zero eat
miss hydaelyn bringing me the cool kids wide and far
varshahn (politely) She is a pain in the ass. But that's ok
LFMAOAOAOAOOA YOU CAN BE LIKE I'm going to my island.
aww..zero feeling warmth and light for the first time in ever
nidhana is so reliable she is just everywhere I guess
DO NOTTTT INSULT NIDHANA ZERO >:[_____]
SHE SUCKED THAT APPLE DRYYYYY HELPPPP
also varshahn. Grow up
[jp writers] human connection and belonging is The Apple (Fruit)
...i bet shes going to die when taken outside of her pond and thats why shes okay with it after all that. Zero U Are So
varshahn's customer service voice with her AHAHAHA
fuck thee aethernet we are walking so you get to see PLANTS and SKIES and COLOR and ARCHITECTURE and PEOPLE
im so glad that the first place she sees as herself in the first is thavnair cus it's such a gorgeous and lively place
lmaoaoooaoaao you just got unlucky zero you got a pretty weird guy
WOO YEAH YSHTOLA the 13th as the life will fill the universe again weaping crying whatever
omg let the eyeball goop enjoy thavnair too
Golbez Grip
there's the Promises We Dont Know About again
i like the void's goofy asses. next is the x.3 patch so someone is going to have to eat it raw
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I am from the UK so fire country has only just started here episode 3 starts on Wednesday but I accidentally spoiled myself and so I now need to know why is Bode taking the blame for drugs he wasn't apart of? And why is he not letting anybody help him? Or has that not been explained completely yet? It was the preview from season 2 that spoiled it for me as it came up on my dash :( lol
Please tell me anything I must know now it will just drive me mad if not thanks x
shit, i'm sorry you got spoiled, anon.
the short answer is he's protecting Freddy. the long (long, much longer) answer is under the cut in case you don't want that much detail
gonna give you the key points, but i haven't rewatched in a while and i'm at work rn so plz excuse any mistakes. almost all of this happens in the season finale and, in the words of Douglas Adams, has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.
Important stuff before the finale took a sledgehammer to the season:
Bode has been helping to put the wheels in motion to have Freddy's case looked at and potentially overturned. It was lookin good and then out of nowhere things stalled
about 2/3 of the way through the season, new guy named Sleeper shows up at camp. he and Bode have History™️ and hate each other's guts. Sleeper is involved in trafficking drugs at camp, it's a whole thing, and in order to deal with it Bode pushes Manny to have everyone drug tested. Sleeper gets kicked out of camp and sent back to prison
this drug test is important cause, start of the finale and right before Bode's parole hearing (same day maybe? not sure) Bode's test comes back positive
Manny doesn't believe Bode when he says he isn't using (at first, he comes around later)
Sharon doesn't believe him period
Vince is trying this fun new "trusting my kid" thing and does believe Bode
Gabriela is of course ride or die
minutes before his parole hearing, someone from the state attorney general's office tells Bode they've been investigating drugs at Three Rock. they believe Bode's leading a gang and Freddy is his second in command, and this is the reason Freddy's case review stalled.
Bode is given a choice (he also has no lawyer here and the whole thing feels wildly illegal and unethical even by tv standards):
say nothing about drug trafficking at his parole hearing (Freddy's case stays in limbo)
take the blame (Freddy gets released asap)
Bode lies and says he's responsible for the drugs connected to Three Rock. bail denied, Three Rock spot revoked, back to prison with ye. that'll be our starting point when season 2 begins on the 16th.
in terms of why he's not letting anyone help him, i'm assuming it's a mix of self-flagellation, prison politics, protecting Freddy (somehow? even though he's probably out?), and at least some degree of "well i worked so hard to change and you still thought i was this bad person so i guess i'll just be the person you think i am." And by that i mean i think Sharon's rejection in the finale really fucked with his head and is gonna have Consequences this season. but we shall see soon enough
#a ramble for you anon! hopefully that helps#tried to avoid spoiling Other Stuff that's going on cause boy howdy there's a LOT in that finale and the season as a whole#fire country#asks
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#leafy fox#he lookin mad but he is very polite#art#my art#fox#fox art#autumn#leafs#autumn leaf#animal art#animal painting#magical#dark art#teeth#red fox#painting#digital painting
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Hi rabbit could you write a story where Sy and Reader are sick of their friends always being on their backs because they’re both single in their friend group. So they come up with a plan to pretend they’re dating, only this unleashes feelings on both parts. It takes reader awhile to understand why Sy is so into it. Maybe fluffy smut?
Summary: You and Sy keep getting set up with random people and you are both sick of it. You hatch a plan to say you’re dating so your friends leave you alone. Things get awkward when you fall for him, because you know, he doesn’t feel the same way.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 10.4k
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, Fake relationship, Sy is a little soft in this one, I think that’s it.
Authors Note: Thanks Anon for the ask. I played around with the fake dating trope in Tropesville, but I like the trope, so I thought I’d do a full fic for it.
This has taken me ages to write!!! I struggled to write while I was sick, but I felt better and still struggled. But, eventually I got there. Thanks to my very supportive friends and Beta readers @amberangel112 and @henryobsessed. You have been a shining light for me in this hellscape.
Edited by me. There will be errors.
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist
Always Real?
Your eyes scan the party as quickly as you can without making it obvious. You make eye contact with Colin briefly, nodding and smiling politely as he continues to ramble. You’re going to kill Anna.
“Oh, his backswing was phenomenal,” Colin drones. “Best in the game for a time…”
Smile and nod.
Grimacing, you see Anna giggling. You stare daggers at her, and she shrugs. ‘Sorry. I tried,’ she mouths. You’ll get her back for this somehow.
Colin keeps talking about golf. You hate golf, of all the sports in all the world, it had to be the one you like least. And he’s a golf pro. You suppose you can’t be too mad at Anna, she probably didn’t know you don’t like it, the two of you don’t exactly spend a lot of time talking about sport. But still, you asked her so many times to stop trying to set you up. You’re happy being single for now. Yeah, it had been nearly a year since you had a boyfriend, but you weren’t really looking.
That’s the problem when you’re one of the only single people in your friendship group, everyone keeps trying to set you up, well mostly Anna. She does the same to Sy. She tried to hook him up with a girl tonight, but he’s already escaped her. You can see the poor girl now, she looks pretty and friendly, you wonder if Sy didn’t like her or if he rejected her on principal. You look around for him, you haven’t seen him in ages. Did he go home?
“… It was amazing, I’ll have to show you the video…”
“Yeah, maybe…”
Smile and nod.
“It’s on my phone…”
You spot Sy. He grins at you as he walks past and you jerk your head, curling your hand in a ‘come here’ gesture. He tilts his head and looks at you with a shrug and raised eyebrows. ‘Save me!’ you mime, putting your hands together pleading. It isn’t easy hiding the gesture from Colin, but you do.
Instead of coming over, Sy smirks and crosses his arms over his chest, legs shoulder width apart, a relaxed pose, as if he’s settling in for a show. The bastard is going to have fun with this. You scratch your neck with your middle finger and Sy chuckles.
Colin moves in closer, shoving his phone under your nose. He puts it so close you can’t actually see it so have to take step back. He follows taking a step closer and you grab hold of his wrist to lower the phone so you can focus.
“Hey, Sugar,” Sy says. You look at him gratefully. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
“Um, I don’t know…”
“Ugh, you hate golf,” Sy says looking over your shoulder at the phone.
“Colin here is a golf pro,” you say to Sy.
Sy looks at Colin as if only just noticing him and sticks his hand out. “Oh, hey man. Sy, nice to meetcha.” Colin takes his hand, and they shake. Colin isn’t a small guy, tall, athletic build, and seems pretty strong, but Sy is, well Sy, and you can see the way his arm tenses as he shakes Colin’s hand. Sy turns his attention back to you. “So anyway, Sugar, I gotta talk to you ‘bout somethin’.” He puts his arm around your shoulder and starts leading you away, then stops and turns back to Colin. “Oh, sorry man, was I interruptin’ somethin’?”
Colin looks at you. “Ah, no,” you say. “We were just chatting. I’ll catch you later Colin. It was nice to meet you,” you call as Sy leads you away. As soon as you’re out of earshot you say to Sy, “Thanks, I owe you one.”
“You coulda just walked away,” Sy says.
“I know, but I felt a little sorry for him. It’s not his fault Anna tried to throw us together without even asking.”
Sy hums and looks over his shoulder. “He’ll live,” Sy says dismissively. He keeps his hand on your shoulder as he leads you to the party’s makeshift bar, grabbing a couple of beers and premix drinks. “Wanna hang out in my truck a while? Give Mr Sandtrap some time to get the hint you ain’t comin’ back?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“No problem, Darlin’,” Sy grins. He leads you away from the party and around the front of the house to where the cars are all parked on the lawn. Opening the tray of his truck, he unfurls the blanket he keeps back there and helps you up, your skirt is a little tight to be climbing into trucks unaided.
You both lean against the back window and stare out into the street. Your shoulders are touching, but it’s comfortable, you’ve known Sy for years as part of your extended friendship group. You two aren’t particularly close, you don’t hang out together outside of these kinds of get togethers, but you’ve always gotten along well, even spending a few nights drunkenly talking well into the early morning.
“So, why did you ditch your ‘date’?” you ask Sy.
Sy reaches into his pocket, pulls out a Leatherman and opens your drinks while he answers. “No reason really other than I want them to get the point I’m not interested in datin’. She seemed nice. I felt kind of bad, but I’m sick of that shit.”
“Yeah, me too,” you say. “I mean, if I wanted to date I would.”
“Why dontcha?”
“Why don’t I date?” Sy nods and takes a swig of his beer. “I don’t know. I guess I’m happy being single for now. I’ll date again when I’m ready.” You take a sip your overly sweet drink and ask Sy, “What about you?”
Sy is quiet and stares at his bottle of beer. Then he looks at you, sucking on his bottom lip. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to answer when he suddenly speaks. “Last deployment I got a Dear John letter.”
“Sy, I’m sorry. That’s shitty.”
“Yeah,” he says, bitterly, drawing the word out with his drawl. “And since I’m probably gonna be deployed again in three or four months, what’s the point, ya know?”
“So, you’ll wait until you retire?”
“Yeah, this will be my last one, I think.” Sy says. “Then I’ll start datin’ again. Maybe.”
“I think that is a good reason, but some people…”
“Anna,” Sy supplies with a grin.
“Yeah, Anna,” you laugh. “Won’t leave us be. Sometimes I think I should make up some internet boyfriend from Canada or something, so she’ll leave me alone.”
Sy chuckles. “Thought has crossed my mind too. Tell her I have a girlfriend still in Iraq or somethin’. But then you’d think…” Sy pauses and looks at you, staring hard, a strange look on his face.
“What?” you ask. Sy looks at you for so long you start to get paranoid and wipe at your mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”
Shaking his head, Sy grins. “Nah, you’re good. I just had a crazy idea.”
“Oh yeah,” you laugh. “Go on, I’m up for crazy.”
“Why don’t we say we’re datin’,” Sy says nonchalantly.
You raise your eyebrows. “That is crazy.”
“Oof! That hurt,” Sy says dramatically, clutching at his heart and leaning back against the window.
“No, I didn’t mean…” you say a little flustered. “Who’d believe it?”
“Why wouldn’t they? We’ve always gotten along.”
“Yeah, but why now? We’ve known each other for ages and never done anything.”
“Maybe I finally got the balls to make a move tonight,” Sy says turning back to you. He leans closer, and you think you’re imagining it, but his voice seems to get low and rough. A ripple of heat washes over you as his flashing blue eyes seem to bore into you. “Maybe seeing that asshole move in on you made me act for once.” Sy sniffs and sits back, the intense moment passes, almost like it never happened. “They’ll buy it.”
They would buy that, you think, it makes sense in a way. You shake your head, are you really considering going along with this stupid idea?
“Ok, say they buy it. How long would we date for?”
Sy thinks a moment. “A month or so, long enough that breakin’ up will hurt and that should make ‘em leave us alone for a while.”
“Who breaks up with who?”
“Hmm, amicable break up, in case we need to date again to keep ‘em off our backs.”
Yeah, it could work. Except… “Wait, but would they believe us if they never see us even hug or kiss?”
Sy grins, wolfishly. “We hug already sometimes, so that won’t be weird. And kissin’ yeah I suppose we should sometimes.”
You give Sy a look and cross your arms.
“What? Would kissin’ me be so bad?” Sy asks.
Would it? No, probably not, you concede. He’s an attractive guy, you like him, as a friend of course. “I suppose we wouldn’t have to make out or anything.” Wait, am I really considering this?
Sy grunts. “No, but it’s got to be a convincing kiss. Ya can’t kiss me like I’m your brother, they’ll never believe that.”
“Maybe I’m not big on public displays of affection,” you argue.
“I am though,” Sy grins. “If I liked you, I’d kiss ya all the time. Wouldn’t matter where I was.”
“So, what, tongue and everything?” you ask Sy. He nods, still smirking. He’s enjoying this. “Ok. But no groping. You can’t touch my breasts or my ass.” Sy pointedly looks at your lap. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you squirm a little. “Or there. Obviously.”
“Obviously.” Sy chuckles. “What about being seen together? I suppose we should actually go on a date or two. Everyone will ask about it.”
“I suppose we should,” you sigh.
“Jesus,” Sy groans.
“What?”
“Ya don’t wanna kiss me and ya don’t want to be seen with me. I thought we were friends,” Sy teases.
“It’s not that, it’s… Well effort. Dating means new clothes, doing your hair and makeup and stuff.”
“You’re wearing makeup now and your hair’s done,” Sy points out. “Ya don’t need new clothes. You look nice and I’ve seen ya wear that outfit before.” You pause, Sy noticed that you wore this outfit before. That’s weird. He must have seen the look on your face because for a moment he seems a little uncomfortable. “All I’m sayin’ is ya don’t have to go to too much effort, we already know each other, and I like the way ya look.” You raise an eyebrow. “I mean, if I were datin’ you for real and you suddenly changed how ya normally looked, it’d be weird cause I like you the way you are.”
You sip your drink a little more, the idea is growing on you. “If we’re going to do this, we need rules.”
“Sure,” Sy agrees.
“Ok. Rule one: Kissing is allowed but not groping.”
Sy nods. “Fair. Rule Two: We’ll go out Friday nights and see each other one night during the week for appearances sake.”
“We’ll take pics to prove it,” you agree. “Rule Three: No talking about the relationship to our frinds, other than superficial stuff. I don’t want you making stuff up about me or telling everyone I’m shit in bed.”
“Ok now I’m offended,” Sy says. “I’m a gentleman and would never kiss and tell.”
“Bullshit Sy!” you laugh, “We’ve all heard the story about what that girl in Vegas wanted you to do to her.”
“Hey, wait now,” Sy says smirking, tying to hold in his laughter. “That was funny, and she wasn’t my girlfriend. I never talk about my girlfriends.”
“Still, I’m making it a rule,” you say firmly.
“Fine. Rule Four: No bad mouthin’ after we break up.”
“I would never!” you protest.
“Bullshit,” Sy says. “We all know about what the ex from Boston wanted you to do to him.”
“Ok, yes,” you say giggling, embarrassed as you remember that story. “But it was very funny.”
“Yeah, it was. So, any other rules?” Sy asks.
“Hmm, I don’t think so.”
“So, we’re agreed, for the next four weeks, you and I are datin’?”
“Fake dating,” you correct.
“That’s what I said,” Sy grins.
“Sure, it was. Starting now?”
“Starting now.” Sy holds up his drink and you hit it with yours.
You and Sy sit awkwardly quiet for a few moments. What are you supposed to do now? “So, how do we let them know we got together?”
“I don’t know.” He looks over his shoulder at the house. “I suppose we could go back, to the party, holdin’ hands or somethin’.”
“And gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes?” you tease and Sy chuckles. “Hmm could work, we really just need Anna to see, then everyone will know.”
“We could dance,” Sy suggests. “Then maybe kiss?”
“You really want to kiss me, don’t you?”
Sy doesn’t deny it. “It is one of the perks of havin’ a girlfriend.”
“Fake girlfriend,” you remind him and yourself, but it doesn’t stop your heart fluttering at the thought of Sy kissing you.
“That’s what I said,” Sy grins. “Finish your drink and we’ll go back.”
Sy helps you out of the truck and closes the tailgate. Still grinning, he puts his arm around you and walks you back to the party. He takes you over to wear a few people are dancing and wraps your arms around his waist. His spicey, leathery smell fills your nose, the fragrance is subtle but masculine and suits him perfectly. Still smiling he moves slowly, too slowly for the music really, but you don’t think he dances too often and is probably the best he can do. He holds you close to him, not too close but near enough that your bodies meet as you gently sway. He looks into your eyes as you move together, he’s a good actor, you can almost believe that he does want to kiss you, for real.
“You sure ya wanna do this?” he asks. He puts his hands on your cheeks as he bends his knees a little so you’re closer in height. Biting your lip you nod, and Sy sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. “I’m gonna kiss you now. That ok?”
“Umm,” you quickly scan the room looking for Anna. She’s watching the two of you intently, eyes wide, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. She’s smiling though, and she’s not the only one. There’s a few of your friends watching you, Colin too, but he’s got a scowl on his face. Maybe they will believe it, maybe this crazy idea will work. You lick your lips. “Okay,” you say softly. But as soon as you agree, your heart starts to thunder in your chest.
“You’re nervous,” Sy observes. You nod. “Don’t be, it’s just me, it’s just a kiss.” Licking his lips he waits, but you feel frozen. “Close your eyes, baby,” he murmurs. Your hands tighten, grabbing hold of his shirt, gripping it tight as you close your eyes.
Sy’s lips press gently against yours. For a moment you can’t believe he actually did it, he actually kissed you, then his lips move, softly gliding over your top lip then your bottom lip. You feel it in your knees, and if you weren’t already holding on, you think you would fall. You think Sy must have noticed because one of his hands leaves your neck and snakes around your waist and lays against your back. He draws you closer, your bodies press against each other, as he tries to deepen his kiss and his tongue flicks against your lips. You part them slightly, his arm tightens, and you swear you hear a soft hum.
This is too much, it’s enough, surely, they’ve seen enough. You pull away from Sy and you think he isn’t going to stop, but he does and you’re briefly disappointed. You’re both breathless as you open your eyes and Sy’s thumb rubs over your cheek. God, he has such beautiful eyes, the blue brilliant against the large black pupils and the darker brown part in his left one catches your attention for the first time.
“You ok?” Sy asks, his deep voice is strained as he talks.
“You’re a good kisser,” you breathe.
Sy chuckles. You feel a tension leave his body and he stands up a little straighter, but doesn’t let you go. “Want a drink?” he asks. You nod and your eyes grow wide as he kisses your forehead and says, “Why dontcha grab a seat and I’ll bring you one.”
As Sy walks away your fingers go to your lips, they’re tingling, still feeling warm from his kiss. You don’t want the feeling to fade. If that’s how he fakes a kiss, you wonder what it would feel like if he truly meant to kiss you. As if in a daze you find a pair of empty plastic chairs to sit on while you wait for Sy.
“Holy shit!” Anna comes bounding over to you. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked Sy? I would have set you two up ages ago.”
You swallow hard and try to order your thoughts. What was the line again? “I didn’t, apparently he did, and he…” you trail off, you can’t remember what you’re supposed to say.
“Oh girl,” Anna gushes. “That must have been a hell of a kiss.” She grabs your shoulder shaking you with excitement. Anyone would think she was the one who just got kissed. “What happened?”
“Uh, we sat in his truck and talked, and then he wanted to dance with me, then he kissed me.” All essentially true, except for the part that it didn’t mean anything.
“Whoa, so he kissed you, huh? Interesting…” Anna muses. You want to ask why it’s interesting, but Sy is coming back. “I’m gonna go, keep me updated!” Then she is gone.
Sy grins as he sits, bringing his chair as close to yours as possible. “Worked huh?” Sy jerks his head in Anna’s direction.
“Yeah, I guess so,” you say, still feeling a little shook up by the kiss.
Sy on the other hand, seems perfectly fine, chilled, and relaxed. You can’t seem to think of anything other than his lips. He makes a bit of small talk for a while, telling you about a book he read and all you can do is stare at him.
“You sure you’re ok?” he asks eventually.
“Yeah.” You’re not though, you’re really not. You stand up. “I think I want to go home.”
“I’ll drive you,” Sy says, standing. “I’ve only had a couple of beers, I ain’t over the limit.”
“No,” you tell Sy a little too quickly. “You stay and have fun.”
“Can’t do that if ya want this dating thing to work out.”
“Fake dating,” you say automatically. Sy has a point though, but you still want to go home.
“You sure you’re ok?” Sy asks again.
You shrug, then shake your head. “I’m fine, I just…” Never expected to actually feel something when we kissed.
“It’s ok,” Sy says. “I’ll take ya home. You wanna say goodbye?”
“Can we sneak out?”
“Sure thing, Sugar.” Sy smiles and you think he going to kiss you, but instead he puts his arm around your shoulders and leads you to his truck.
You were quiet on the way home at first, but eventually Sy gets you out of your head, talking like normal and you start to think that maybe you overreacted. He’s just a good kisser, the kiss didn’t mean anything more than what it was, a stage kiss, you were acting, pretending, going along with your ruse.
When Sy pulls up at your house, he gets out with you and walks you to your door. “When do you want to see each other again?”
“I thought we said Friday night.”
“We also said midweek,” Sy reminds you. “How does Tuesday work for ya?”
“Well, it’ll be our first date so, we should do something nice.”
“I could take ya to dinner or to a movie?”
“Predictable, but I guess a movie works.”
Sy grins. “I’m not really a grand gesture kind a guy anyway.”
“Me either, I don’t like a big fuss. I always cringe when I see those proposals at a baseball game or something like that. I’d say no on principle alone.”
“Noted.” Sy sighs, “Well, I guess I’ll get.”
“Yeah,” you agree. Neither of you move, and you stand there a moment, looking at your feet. “I’m sorry I freaked out earlier.”
“’S alright,” Sy says. He takes a small step closer to you and tucks a finger under your chin, gently lifting it so you look at him. “You know you can call this off at any time, I won’t get angry or nothin’.”
“I know.”
“Ok.” Sy wraps his arms around you giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Night, Sweet Pea.”
“Sweet Pea?” You giggle at the pet name.
“Ah, you like that one huh? Ok, Sweet Pea it is.” Sy lets you go, waving as he goes back to his truck.
You’re nervous about seeing Sy again. You haven’t been able to get that kiss out of your head; you even find yourself daydreaming about it. The way he held you, the way he took control, left you breathless and confused. It’s strange that you never saw Sy as anything other than a friend, not even a close friend and now, you can’t stop thinking about him. You don’t know how you never thought about what it would be like to be with him, but since that kiss, it’s all you can think about.
Thinking back on the years you’ve known him you realise he’s always been sweet to you. Yeah, he teases you occasionally, but he’s always looked out for you, which is why you wanted him to save you from Colin rather than anyone else. You trust him, you like him, you find him attractive, and after that kiss, you realise you want him.
The realisation makes you uncomfortable. You’re not sure this whole fake dating thing is a good idea anymore. You start to think you may develop real feelings for him which will only hurt you when you realise Sy doesn’t feel the same way. Because he mustn’t feel the same, otherwise he would have just asked you out, right?
That’s it then, no more kisses. You shouldn’t have agreed to that, that was crossing a line you weren’t prepared for. You tell yourself that you will talk to Sy tonight about it. No more kissing. Everyone saw you kiss, they don’t need to see it again.
After work on Tuesday, you rush to get ready, not wanting to be late. You try on several dresses, not really satisfied with any of them. Some are too revealing, some are too dressed up and others are too casual. You decide to go for one that’s a little too casual, you don’t want Sy to think that you were trying too hard. You held back with your makeup too, less than what you wore to the party and your hair was already done from work, so you just have tidy it up.
You’re ready with plenty of time to spare, so you find yourself pacing the room. You try to calm yourself by scrolling through social media, but you keep staring at the time, willing the minutes to tick by with increasing anxiety.
The doorbell rings and before you open the door, you take the time to take calming breath. You’re ok, you remind yourself, it’s just Sy. Forget that you haven’t been able to think of anything but him for the past few days. Never mind that you’ve fantasised about more than just kissing him. Disregard all that, you’re just friends pretending to date that’s it. You won’t kiss him. Not again.
Opening the door, you forget all your pep talk as soon you see the growing smile on Sy’s face. Your stomach flips as he snakes his arm around your waist and kisses your cheek. His now familiar scent mixes with the smell of his freshly laundered t-shirt and you press your face into his neck, breathing in his wonderful fragrance.
“You look real nice, Sweet Pea,” Sy drawls sweetly in your ear.
You grin and step back, looking at the ground, avoiding eye contact so Sy won’t see in your eyes how nervous he makes you feel. You shake your head, feeling embarrassed. “Shall we go?” you deflect as you close your door.
“Sure.” Sy puts his arm around your shoulders and walks you to his truck, even opening your door for you. He waits until you’re inside before closing it. You watch him as he walks to the driver’s side and see the big grin on his face, the slight jump in his step. He’s a really good actor you think, anyone would think he’s really your boyfriend and actually looking forward to taking you out.
“So, how’s work?” Sy asks.
You hesitate before you answer. Does Sy really want to know or is he asking to avoid awkward silence while he drives. “It’s ok. How about you?”
“Good. Real good.” Sy glances at you. “How’s work really?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah, I do,” Sy smiles reassuringly.
“You don’t have to pretend to be interested.”
“Who says I’m pretendin’?”
“It’s nothing really. There’s been some downsizing and I have a bad feeling about it,” you admit. Sy nods but doesn’t say anything, so you keep talking. “I shouldn’t have a problem getting a new job, it’s just the stress of the interviews and stuff like that. I hate the whole process.”
“Well it ain’t happened so don’t worry ‘bout it. Focus on what you can control and accept whatcha can’t.”
“Good advice, but easier said than done.”
“I know, baby.” Sy puts his hand on your knee and gives you a gentle squeeze before he puts his hand back on the wheel. “I know.”
After a quick discussion on what movie to see, you agree on seeing a comedy. When you get to the box office to buy your tickets you realise you forgot to make a rule about who pays for your dates. Sy immediately pulls his wallet out and purchases both tickets. You scowl but don’t make a fuss until he hands you the ticket.
“You don’t have to pay for me. Even if this were a real date, I don’t expect you to pay.”
Sy shrugs. “Habit, I guess. I’m takin’ you out so I pay. ‘Sides, I like doin’ it.”
“You like wasting your money?”
“I like spendin’ time with you. This is me thankin’ you for hangin’ out.” He looks directly into your eyes, and you see sincerity there. Sy grins then asks, “Now what can I getcha to eat?”
The rest of the date goes well. The movie is good, both you and Sy laugh a lot. He keeps his hands to himself, and although you know it’s for the best, you’re a little disappointed. You try not to let it show, it is what you want after all.
After the movie, you and Sy take a couple of selfies for you to put on social media to keep up the subterfuge. Sy surprises you though when you take a photo and feel his beard on your cheek, followed by his lips.
“Sy!” you gasp and your hand flies to your cheek.
“What?” he says acting innocent. “Gotta be convincing, right?”
“Yeah. I just wasn’t ready.” Your cheek tingles and you bite your lip as you look at the picture. The picture is good, candid, Sy looks happy and the surprised expression on your face works well.
“We look good together,” Sy says peering over you. He puts his hands on your hips and leans his chin on your shoulder. “You should post that one. Send it to me too.”
“I’ll post it later.” You don’t want him to see how badly your hands are trembling because he’s so close to you. You take a step away, and Sy’s hands fall off your hips. “Should we go?”
You look at Sy and you could have sworn he looks disappointed. But it’s fleeting and he raises his head with a grin. “Let’s go, Sweet Pea.”
Both of you are a little quiet on the way home. You talk a bit about the movie, but both of you seem to have your mind on other things. You keep replaying the night in your head, the subtle looks Sy gave you, the little remarks that could be seen as flirtatious, the stolen kiss and of course, the kiss that started this mess.
When you get home, Sy walks you to your door despite you telling him not to worry. Once again you feel the awkwardness as you stand on your porch. His eyes meet yours, they’re so blue, deep, and open, you feel a little lost. Smiling shyly at Sy, you fish in your bag for your keys. You have to get inside, get away from him, before he sees through your façade.
“I had a good time with you tonight, Sugar,” Sy says lowly as he takes a small step closer to you. You bite your lip as your hand wraps around your keys, and he licks his. He seems to loom over you, he’s so big, you feel like he’s getting closer and closer. He’s just being polite, you tell yourself, stop reading too much into everything.
“I did too, Sy,” you say quickly, turning to the door and putting your key in the lock just as you notice movement from Sy. You turn back to see Sy straightening and running a hand over his short hair. He looks a little on edge, embarrassed almost, and he takes a few steps back. “You ok?”
“Yeah,” he says and gives you a smile that doesn’t seem to be genuine. “So, uh, I’ll pick you up here Friday night?”
“Yeah,” you reply as you open the door.
“Great,” Sy says, and his smile appears real again. Then he nods and steps off the porch as you go inside. You almost shut the door, when you hear him call your name.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t forget to send me that picture, alright?” You nod and wave. “Night Sweet Pea,” Sy waves back and you close the door.
You stand in your hallway a moment, confused. If you didn’t know better, you would think Sy had tried to kiss you, but he wouldn’t do that. Not when no one is around to see him. Would he?
The next few days pass slowly. Although you don’t speak to Sy, he messages you regularly. He’s sweet, at first thanking you for sending him the photos you took together, then asking you what you want to do on Friday. Then his messages are cutely mundane, telling you a joke he heard at work, asking you for a book recommendation, and telling you about a movie he watched that he thinks you would like.
It is frustrating because you still can’t tell if he’s interested in you. Normally, you would talk to Anna about it, but because of the fake dating, you can’t. It doesn’t help that she keeps asking you for details and you keep having to embellish the truth, while trying to remind yourself that Sy isn’t interested in you. You can’t let yourself get carried away, you can’t allow yourself to develop real feelings for him when in three weeks it will be over.
Work was also not helping your situation. Rumours of upcoming layoffs persisted throughout the week. On Thursday, three people were let go and there was talk of more to come. So, when you were called to your managers office on Friday afternoon, you knew what was going to happen.
Devastated, you bought a bottle of wine on the way home, showered, put on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt and curled up in front of the television before calling Sy.
“Hey Sweet Pea,” Sy says. His drawling voice sounds happy and upbeat, and you’re surprised by how comforting it is. You miss him. “I’m hoppin’ in the truck now.”
“You’re early,” you say softly.
“I know, I…” Sy stops. “What’s wrong?” You raise your eyebrows, you didn’t expect him to be able to sense something had happened.
“I don’t really feel like goin’ out tonight.” You take a deep shuddering breath, not wanting to cry on the phone. “I uh… I got fired today.”
“Baby, I’m sorry,” Sy says, sympathetically. He pauses, as if waiting for you to say something, but you don’t. After a few beats he says, “Do ya want me to come round and we’ll watch a movie or somethin’? Order take out, getcha mind off it?”
“You don’t have to,” you say. “This isn’t a crisis for a fake boyfriend to deal with.”
Sy doesn’t say anything for a moment. He waits for such a long time you ask if he’s still there. “Yeah, I’m here. I uh, still wanna come round though.”
“I suppose Anna will smell a rat if you didn’t come around when she finds out I got fired,” you rationalise.
“Yeah,” Sy says letting out a long sigh. “I’ll see ya soon.”
“Bye,” you say and hang up.
When Sy arrives, he greets you with a big grin and his hands are behind his back, hiding something. He wraps an arm around you and draws you in for a hug. His now familiar scent puts you at ease, as does the sensation of his soft whiskers on your cheek.
“I come bearin’ gifts,” he says a little proudly. His enthusiasm makes you chuff, and he presents you with a bag full of ice-cream. Your eyes widen, there has to be $50 worth of Ben & Jerry’s in there.
“Sy!” you say feeling a little overwhelmed. “Why did you buy so much?” You look at him shaking your head. “Thank you, but wow, it’ll take me months to eat all that.”
Sy just keeps grinning and shrugs, “Not if I help ya. ‘Sides, I wasn’t sure what flavour you liked, so I got picked a few of my favourites.”
“You could have called me and asked me.”
“Wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it?”
Forgetting that you need to keep your feelings hidden, you hug Sy and kiss his cheek. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you.” Sy hugs you back, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go. You admonish yourself and try to remember that he’s just being nice to you because you’re upset, he’d do that for anyone.
“Anytime, Baby,” Sy murmurs in your ear, his voice makes a heat bloom deep in your gut. His body is pressed tightly against yours, he feels so solid, so firm, but soft, and warm at the same time. You don’t want to let go, but you have to, you have to, or he’ll know.
Clearing your throat, you step away from Sy. “I better put these in the freezer for later.” You go to the kitchen, and he follows. “What do you want for dinner?”
“I figured it might be fun just to eat ice-cream.”
“Oh my God, should we?” you laugh. Sy nods eagerly and licks his lips. “I haven’t done that since I was a kid.”
“Pick one and we’ll get started, where are your spoons?”
You and Sy eat nearly three tubs of ice-cream before you tap out and let him finish the rest of the last one. You sit together on your couch watching your comfort movie. You think Sy would hate it, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When your movie finishes, you let him pick the next one and he surprises you by picking Princess Bride.
You glance at Sy with raised eyebrows. He narrows his eyes. “Don’t tell me ya don’t like this movie. I’ll get up and walk out the door right now.”
“No, I love this movie, it’s just that, I’m surprised you do.”
“It’s a classic. You could call it my comfort movie. I used to watch it all the damn time growin’ up. Wore out the VCR and everythin’.”
“The VCR?” you grin. “Damn, you’re old.”
“Hey c’mon now,” Sy frowns pointing his finger at you. Then he laughs putting his arms out wide, gesturing with his hands. “Come ‘ere and watch the damn movie.”
Ignoring the part of you that tells you it’s a bad idea, you let Sy enclose you in his arms and lay your head on his chest. You grab the blanket you keep over your couch and lay it over both of you before you settle in for the movie. You don’t know how far you make it before you fall asleep. The last thing you remember is the Fire Swamp and the next thing you know, Sy is stirring, and you wake up.
“Sorry,” you say a little disorientated. You sit up, rubbing at your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“’S alright,” Sy says standing up. “I woulda let ya sleep but I have to go to the bathroom.”
You tell Sy where it is and while he’s gone you fold the blanket over the couch and put away the empty ice-cream tubs and spoons. Sy meets you in the kitchen.
“I suppose I better get goin’,” Sy says.
“Yeah, I guess,” you say with a smile. You don’t want him to go. You want him to hold you all night, you imagine you’d sleep a whole lot better tonight with Sy’s heavy arms around you. “Thanks for tonight. I feel a lot better.” You laugh and add, “Other than feeling sick in the tummy from all that ice-cream.”
Sy laughs and closes the distance between you. “It was fun though.”
“Sorry I fell asleep.”
“Nah,” Sy says. “You must have needed it.”
You walk Sy to the door and he pulls you into a hug. He looks at you, catching your gaze and asks, “When can I see you again?” His voice is low and serious. If you didn’t know better, you would swear he was really asking because he wants to see you, not because of the ruse.
“You busy tomorrow night?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You hold your breath, you shouldn’t have done that. You sound too keen.
But Sy just smiles. “I am now. What do ya want to do?”
“You could come over again and hang out. Maybe eat some more ice-cream, watch some more movies?” You shrug and Sy hums.
“As you wish, Baby.” Sy says and your breath catches. Was he quoting the movie on purpose? He must have seen the confusion on your face because then he winks at you. You burst out laughing because he can’t wink properly, it just looks like an exaggerated blink. He chuckles too and holds you tighter, kissing your forehead before he says goodbye.
You and Sy fall into a routine for the next three weeks. On Tuesday’s he comes to your house, or you go to his house. You met Aika, sweet thing that she is, although she did get a little jealous when you took her spot on the couch. You eat real food but always split a tub of ice-cream for dessert together. Then you watch a movie or two, snuggling together on the couch.
On Friday’s you go on a proper date, dinner & a movie or bowling, and Saturday night you usually go out with friends. You don’t kiss again like you did that first night, but Sy kisses you often, on your cheek, or forehead. Saturdays are the most difficult for you. Because you’re with friends, Sy is particularly handsy, always with an arm possessively around you, either your waist or shoulders and he kisses you frequently.
Being with Sy is so comfortable now, you often forget that it’s make believe. But you are quick to remind yourself it’s not real, remind yourself not to get too attached, all too soon this thing between you and Sy will be over. At least you won’t have to pretend to be upset about the breakup. You wish you had the guts to tell Sy how you feel, but you know Sy now, you know how direct he can be. If he wanted more, wanted to date you for real, you are sure he would tell you. Despite trying desperately to hide it, you couldn’t have kept how you feel from him all these weeks. He must know.
It's not just that you feel more comfortable around Sy now, it’s also that you appreciate him being around. He was amazing while you were looking for a new job. He proofread your resume, suggested some tips for cover letters, and gave you the confidence to apply for jobs you never would have thought you’d be qualified for. He even ran you through interview questions. He didn’t have to do that. You would miss his friendship more than anything. Even if you never made the step from friends to something more, you would be happy just having him in your life.
When the day comes for your final date, you are heartbroken. You and Sy had already sorted out the plan for Friday night; he will take you out, snap some more pics for social media, then finalise the story for your breakup. But it doesn’t work out that way. Sy calls you early Friday morning on his way to work.
“Hey Sweet Pea,” Sy says. You can tell something is off by the tone of his voice.
“You ok Sy?”
“Yeah, Baby. I wanted to wish you luck with your interview.”
You bite your lip, feeling a little gooey inside that he remembered. He’s remembered every interview you’ve had, but he usually just sends you a text. “Thanks, Sy.”
“I know you’ll do great, Sweet Pea.” Sy is quiet for a bit, and when he does talk, he sounds a little hesitant, he hasn’t been like this since that night you watched Princess Bride together. “I was thinkin’ maybe I could come to your place tonight, instead of goin’ out.”
“Yeah, sure.” You smile even as you feel a lump form in your throat. You and Sy really are homebodies, you could be so good together if only he liked you as more than a friend. “That’d be nice.”
“Good,” Sy says, but his voice sounds rougher than usual. “That’s good. I’ll see you tonight then, Sugar.”
“You sure you’re ok, Sy?”
“Yeah, Baby. I… never mind, I’m good. Lookin’ forward to seein’ you that’s all.”
“Me too,” you say, smiling for real despite the tears welling in your eyes. You don’t know how you’re going to get through the night without crying.
“Yeah?” Sy asks. It’s odd that he’d need that reassurance.
“Yeah, of course.”
“That’s good. I’ll get goin’ then. See ya later and good luck.”
You hang up, still a little worried about Sy, he doesn’t seem himself. You almost call him back, but you think maybe something is going on that he doesn’t want to share with you. You aren’t his girlfriend, he’s under no obligation to tell you anything that’s happening in his personal life. The thought that he’s worried about something and not telling you does sting though. You may not be dating, but you had thought the two of you were closer now. You had hoped he at least saw you as a friend. You try and push Sy out of your mind, but he just won’t budge. You can’t talk to him now anyway, he will be at work soon and you have no time to dwell on it, you have another interview to get ready for.
That afternoon you can barely sit still. You try a million things to keep calm. You watch tv, read a book, go for a walk, you even pick up the knitting project you had put away in frustration a few weeks ago. Nothing works. You pour a glass of wine and that helps a little, but your leg still bounces with impatience and your mind won’t slow down.
This is it; this will be the last time you two have an excuse to be together. After this, Sy won’t call you, he won’t come over, he won’t hold you and kiss your cheek. Tears come unbidden and without warning, you aren’t even crying really, they just roll down your cheeks. You can’t be crying when Sy arrives, he can’t see you like this. You wash your face and with it comes your make up. You think about reapplying, but what’s the point? You don’t need to impress Sy anymore. You don’t even bother changing out of the skirt and shirt you wore to your interview.
When Sy finally arrives, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, you can deal with this. You’ll take the heartache and cry when he’s gone, maybe even finish that bottle of wine. Readying your smile, you open the door.
“Hey Sy,” you say in a voice that’s much stronger than you thought it would be.
Sy looks at you strangely, his eyes are dark, his brows are drawn low, and his breath is heavy. Something is wrong, you knew it.
“Sy, what…”
Walking through the door without dropping his gaze, he advances on you, closing the door without looking. You take a step back, why is he looking at you like that?
“Sy are you…”
With a speed you aren’t ready for, you find yourself pressed against Sy, one arm holds you firmly around your waist, the other cups your neck. You gasp, he hasn’t held you like this since that first night.
“Shh,” Sy says, his voice is gravelly, hoarse, like he’s out of breath. “I need to say somethin’, Baby. I need to know…” His eyes roam your face, taking in everything, like he’s searching for answers while you stare at him speechless and confused. “Ah fuck it.”
Sy’s lips meet yours with a crushing force. For a moment you’re too stunned to move. Your mind is reeling. This can’t be real, he’s kissing you like he wants to kiss you. Tentatively, you put your hands on his shoulders, God, they’re so firm, and slide them up to his neck. He moans softly, his hips press against you, and when you kiss him back, you begin to believe this is really happening.
But it’s over too quickly, Sy pulls back and looks ashamed. The tears you held back threaten to flow again. You knew it was too good to be true, Sy made a mistake is all.
“I shouldnta done that. It ain’t fair, I know…” Sy says as he lets you go. He looks at you with hopelessness in his eyes and sighs. “I know we don’t feel the same way about each other.”
“Sy,” you whisper because your voice won’t come out any louder. You feel like you’re drowning, like you can’t get enough air to fill your lungs, your breath is too shallow.
“Fuck,” Sy says, putting an arm out to you, then pulling back quickly. “Look, that never happened, ok? I’m sorry I did that.” He shakes his head and you reach for him, but he steps back. “I’ll just go, ok?”
“You don’t have to,” you say softly. Fuck, this was going worse than you thought it would. “We’ll forget that happened.”
“Baby, I can’t,” Sy says. “I can’t, I…” His jaw tightens and he looks down the hall.
“We don’t have to kiss.” Summoning every bit of your courage, you put your hand to his bearded cheek and turn his face back to yours. “We can just be friends.”
“I can’t...” Sy’s face looks like he’s in pain. You wish you knew how to help him. His hand covers yours and he turns his head and kisses your palm with such tenderness it takes your breath away. Then he lowers your joined hands and sighs. “It ain’t enough for me.”
What’s not enough? Wait, does he? And he thinks you don’t? How could he be so blind? How could you both be so blind?
“I want more,” Sy says. He puts on a fake smile, and you feel sick in the stomach. You need to tell him, you need to or he’ll walk out that door thinking you don’t feel the same way he does. “I know you don’t feel the same, and that’s ok…”
You wrap your arms around Sy’s neck and kiss him firmly. You pull back and see the confused look on his face. Smiling, you kiss him again, softer this time and when you pull again, Sy is smiling too.
“I want more too, Sy.”
“You do?” Sy chuffs, expelling his breath with a chuckle. He leans his head against yours, foreheads and noses touching. “Ya coulda fooled me. You shut me down at every turn.”
“I didn’t know.”
“It don’t matter now,” Sy says. His hand goes to your neck and his thumb traces your jaw. “I wanna kiss ya some more.”
You close your eyes, and you feel Sy’s soft lips on yours. His mouth is open and you part yours too, matching his kisses with your own. His tongue teases your lips, and you open wider for him. He moans as your tongue meets his with a playful flick and he hold you tighter.
Sy overtakes your senses, all you hear are his moans and the sounds of your kisses, all you can feel is his lips and his wandering hands.
“You smell really good,” you murmur.
“Fuck, baby, you smell amazing,” Sy nuzzles into your neck, his beard scratching at your skin as he breaths deeply. “Christ,” he groans, before he lays big, wet kisses on you, sucking on you, his teeth nipping softly. Your hands tighten around his brawny arms before you slip them under his shirt.
Sy steps back, reaching behind his head and pulling his shirt off before dropping it to the floor. Your eyes widen as his wide chest is revealed, and you close the distance between you. You look at him while you run your hands over his taut belly, your fingers tracing the soft outline of his muscles. Leaning in you kiss him gently, the soft brown hair on his chest tickles your lips, and you smile as his fingers slip into your hair.
Then Sy takes your hand, “C’mon,” he says. “Unless ya wanna keep makin’ out in the hallway.” Shaking your head, you giggle a little and he leads you to the couch.
Biting your lip and deciding to continue being a little bold, you pull him in a different direction. “My bedroom is this way,” you whisper shyly.
Sy’s eyes widen a moment, then he makes a noise in the back of his throat, and he grins. “Lead the way,” he says.
Your heart hammers in your chest as you take Sy to your room. You don’t know what to do when you get there so you stand awkwardly looking at your feet. Sy sits on the edge of the bed to take his boots off, and you feel his eyes on you.
“Come ‘ere, Sweet Pea,” he says and you can hear the eagerness in his voice. It makes you smile, and you glance at him. You can’t believe it he’s here, on your bed, shirtless, beckoning you and grinning as you take the few steps to him.
Sy puts his hands on your hips and brings you between his legs. He hums while he runs his hands over your sides, feeling your every curve. He doesn’t stop smiling. You nibble on your bottom lip as he looks up at you and your eyes meet.
“You’re nervous,” he observes. You remember how he said the same thing the first night you kissed, and you nod. “You’re ok, Baby, I’ve got you. We’re gonna do as little or as much as you want, ok?”
“What do you want, Sy?”
“Me?” he chuckles. “Me, I could just kiss ya forever.” He lifts your shirt just a little, revealing the tiniest bit of your belly and he kisses you there. “I wanna kiss ya everywhere.”
Sy lifts your shirt higher, watching your eyes, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t, you lift your arms above your head, giving him your silent consent to take your shirt off. You reach behind your back and undo your bra as Sy trails his kisses higher, his beard a pleasing juxtaposition to his soft lips. He grins as your bra falls away and his hands cover your breasts, his fingers gently kneading as his lips enclose your tightened bud. Your head lulls as you let a weak moan escape your lips. Sy looks at you as he swaps sides, sucking softly, his eyes are dark, lust filled as his arms wrap around you.
With a playful growl, Sy spins you around and throws you on your bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, crawling up your body with the look of a predator who found wounded prey. His mouth is on your breasts again, climbing higher until his hot breath is on your ear. His hands move over your body, touching you everywhere he can, squeezing, caressing, his short nails gently scraping down your bare thighs.
Your body surges, tingling with excitement as your fingers dig into his back. Sy grinds against you and you feel the rigid length of his cock straining against his pants as his fingers dance over the skin just above your skirt.
Sy’s kisses move down your body, over your breast, over your belly, his teeth scrape over your hip bone. You watch him over your heaving chest and his eyes meet yours as he raises your skirt up your thighs. He kisses your thighs, his beard scratching you softly while his warm tongue laps at your skin. You start to tremble, nerves and anticipation combining to release a rush of adrenaline, and your panting increases.
“Will ya open your legs for me, Baby?” Sy asks, his gravelly voice only heightens your lust.
Reminding yourself to breathe, you tentatively bend your knees and open your legs. Sy’s hands feel rough as they slide down the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His thumbs trace the edges of your panties as your legs hit the mattress. Your body is throbbing, burning with need as Sy curses under his breath.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, roughly.
“I want you, Sy,” you murmur.
“Not good enough, Sweet Pea.” Sy’s chest is heaving almost as fast as yours. “Tell me how you want me, where you want me.”
Swallowing hard, you search for the courage you had earlier. “I… I want your mouth on me,” you stammer.
Sy smirks, but its not mocking, its shameless in his desire, dirty even, and so damn hot. “Tell me where.” You can’t say the words, you try, but you can’t. “Show me then,” he urges as he takes your hand and puts it behind his head. His eyes are hooded, dark, trapping your gaze, as you guide him towards your throbbing core. At the last moment he closes his eyes, and you feel the heat of his mouth on your mound through the thin cotton of your panties.
You both groan and your head falls back onto the mattress. Already wet and needy, your core tightens as it’s emptiness has become unbearable. Sy’s arms wrap around your thighs as he presses his tongue against your panties, and you feel them getting wetter as they stick to your lips and folds. Then he sucks on them pulling you and your panties into his mouth and your back arches as your muscles begin to tighten and shake.
It feels so good, but you want more, need more. “Take them off,” you tell Sy, the urgency in your voice makes his eyes flash with hunger and he instantly grips your panties in his hand, roughly pulling them down your legs. He pushes your thighs apart again then stops, his gaze firmly on your wide-open pussy.
In a moment of panic, you try and close your legs, but his hands hold you firmly open. He growls, his voice is guttural, coming from a place deep within him. Then you feel him, his tongue is rough against your engorged skin, lips soft as he sucks, his beard while coarse, feels surprisingly good, its texture only heightening the overwhelming sensations.
You lean on your elbows to see him, your bunched up skirt blocks your view. His eyes are on you, and you gasp as you see the erotic display. His mouth is covering you, his bearded cheeks hollowing as he works his mouth. He hums and you gasp, you’re so close, you nod frantically at him, silently begging him not to stop. His hand reaches for yours and you lace your fingers between his as you sink to the bed again.
Muscles tightening, core quivering, you feel waves of heat start to wash over your climax overtakes you. You cry out his name over and over as your hips roll, grinding against him, desperate and needy. As your orgasm recedes, Sy doesn’t stop, he groans as he draws it out for as long as he can, until you have to push him away.
“Fuck,” you barely whisper, you’re too breathless.
Sy grins smugly. “Good, huh?”
Any other time, any other man, you’d want to smack that smile off his face, but after how he made you feel, you figure he deserves to be a little proud. You nod stupidly, still too euphoric to speak.
Sy pulls your skirt off then lays behind you, rolling you on your side and lifting your leg over his. Sliding his cock over your wet folds he growls in your ear, “I want you bad, Baby. You want me too?”
“Yes,” you mumble. The feeling of the silky head of his cock against your sensitive skin already starts your climb to another peak.
Taking your hand Sy guides you to his cock, you feel him shudder as you touch him. “Put me inside you.”
You moan at his words, but you waste no time and take him into your aching core. You both sigh with relief as he fills you, your soft walls yield to him, holding him tight. He feels so good, he fits so well, you almost don’t want him to move. He closes your legs, and you hear his ragged breath in your ear as he puts his arm over you. He puts his hand on your cheek, turning your face to his.
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Sy says, almost to himself and then his lips are on yours. His kiss is firm, his tongue demanding entry immediately and you don’t deny him. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, reminding you of the pleasure he gave you before he took for himself. He moves, lazily retreating before pushing in with force. He builds slowly, consistently, he groans and grunts into your mouth until he has to pull away, panting, but his eyes stay on your face.
Your body starts to tighten, the pressure builds inside you, and you rock your hips, meeting his every thrust with your own. Gripping the sheets in one hand and Sy’s forearm in the other, you start to moan as you feel yourself pulse around his cock.
Sy jaw is tight as he takes heavy breaths through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna come aintcha?” he puffs out.
“Yeah,” you nod, barely making the word come out as a moan overtakes you and your body shakes with white hot ripples of pleasure. Just before your eyes close you see Sy grin.
“Fuck yeah,” Sy growls, fucking you through your orgasm, harder and faster than before.
As your orgasm fades, you feel Sy’s lips on your back and shoulders as he kisses you down from your high. His rhythm has slowed to a languid speed, long and almost gentle.
“God damn, baby,” Sy mumbles into your mouth between kisses. “Why didn’t we do this sooner? You’re fuckin’ amazin’. You feel so God damn good.”
“I don’t know.” You chuckle faintly. You can’t help it, you feel so blissful.
Sy rolls you on your back and lays over you, his body hovering above you and he rests his weight on one hand while he slides his cock over you. His eyes close as he enters you, humming deeply, his lip curling into a snarl.
“Fuck your pussy is so fuckin’ warm.”
Sy slips his hand under your head and draws you close. You wrap your arms under his, holding onto his thick, corded shoulders and lean into his neck. He doesn’t build up this time, he fucks you hard straight away, your bodies smacking against each other with each thrust.
Sy moves so his head rests on yours. “I wanna look atcha,” he pants. His breathing gets harder, sweat breaks on his forehead. He tries to wipe it off, but you don’t let him, you don’t want to let him go. His movements quicken and then become erratic. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna come.”
“Yeah.” You hold him tighter, and he pushes his head against you so hard it almost hurts. “I want you to.”
“Fuck,” Sy groans. He kisses you, he doesn’t move his lips, he just hold them against yours as he throat rumbles. You feel him thicken inside you and he holds himself deep within you, until his orgasm wanes.
Chuckling throatily Sy kisses the top of your head. “I can’t believe we almost didn’t do this,” he says. “I can’t believe I almost letcha go.”
“But you didn’t,” you say smiling back at him. “And now, we’re together. For real now, right?” you ask.
“Baby, it was always real for me.”
#captain syverson smut#captain sy#captain syverson#captain syverson x reader#syverson fanfiction#captain sy fanfiction#captain sy x reader#captain syverson fanfiction#syverson x reader#captain syverson fanfic#captain syverson fic#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fanfic
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house hunting
A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless and @nationalharryleague for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!
summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!
warnings: smut
word count: ~3.3k
my ko-fi! thank you :)
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With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.
Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.
So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.
“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”
You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”
“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.
“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”
Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”
Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”
Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.
“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”
“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”
“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”
Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.
“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”
“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”
Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”
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“I hate it.”
“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”
“Don’t like the color.”
“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”
You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in.
“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.”
“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.”
The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.”
“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject, gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own.
“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”
You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit.
“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.”
The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side.
“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”
Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.
The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated.
You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.
“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”
“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”
“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.
“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”
“Is it working?”
You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”
“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.
“Where are you, love?”
“‘M in here!”
You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.
Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.
“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.
“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”
A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”
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No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.
It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment.
Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).
When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.
“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.
“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”
“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.
“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”
Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.
“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”
“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”
“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.
The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.
Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.
“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”
“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”
“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”
Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.
“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”
“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”
Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.
“Yeah?”
“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.
“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.
“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone.
You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”
“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”
“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”
“Where do ya want that kiss?”
“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.”
You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”
“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.”
Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.”
“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him.
“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow.
“All good?”
“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him.
“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.
“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”
“You sound impatient.”
“I just wanna get on with it.”
Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”
“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.
“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles.
“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”
“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”
“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”
He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush.
You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.
“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”
“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.
“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”
His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.
“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
as always, please let me know what you thought here!
#harry styles smut#harry styles#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic
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the bbc robin hood characters n their red flags:
Robin
-hero complex
-mommy daddy AND brother issues like damn hun pick a family member
-kind of a whore
-might have punched a wall
-can do backflips. never trust a man who can do a backflip. this is non negotiable
-ur hulu best have ads or else
-cannot apologize to save his life
Much
-never takes off his carhartt beanie
-“bros before hoes” aka would drop u for robin in a heartbeat
-that run. the way he runs. wtf. little penguin lookin ass—
Will
-gave his dad son issues
-don’t like the look in his eye if i’m being honest
-“car guy” vibes 🚩🚩🚩
-but overall he has the least amount of red flags i love him A+ bf material
Allan a Dale
-“what up bitch can i have a dollar? ugh for a slushee,, i kno you have one open ur purse”
-might rob you blind
-would borrow your car, get in a fender bender and most definitely NOT tell you about it
-any gift you receive from him will get repossessed bc he has stolen it
Tuck
-catholic
-gives unsolicited advice
-idk what his deal is but can he even date??? can friars date?? girl idk but also tucks my 4liferr idc what you guys say
-the way he grabbed that gravel unsettled me
Little John
-he’s married (? taken*?) so
-but i mean hey
-cannot pass a background check
Djaq
-she is perfect no red flags 2 speak of
-would probably forget you in the target parking lot
-judgy but rightfully so
-will always be wittier than u so if u can’t handle that u will never b compatible
Marian
-outdresses you at every event. yea sometimes it is on purpose, die mad ab it
-leaves you on read for hours but will show up at ur doorstep w a stab wound like “oh the bleeding? it’s in a non vital area it’s fine we can go get chipotle now”
-has all the tea on everyone. like not in a fun gossipy way, a “how does she know this much personal information about everyone” and it gets you thinking how much does she know about you?????
-the answer is everything be very scared
-has side hoes. u r probably one of them
Kate
-shanks as a warning
-“i’m a chill girl” she is n o t
-shoplifts but only at franchises she has personal vendettas against (it is a long list, panera being thee top 1)(yes you have had to drive a getaway car stuffed w trash bags full of bagels)
-saw her mugshot on the news, she told you dont worry abt it babes
Isabella
-gaslight gatekeep girlboss
-every time u jokingly ask her how many ppl she’s stabbed, her response keeps changing w increasingly random numbers
-plays games >:( specifically, political ones that involve huge scandals and coups. sexy, but a red flag regardless
-talks about you to her friends but in a way where they all laugh discreetly and arch their eyebrows knowingly at each other from behind their wine glasses. you don’t know what this means but it’s unnerving
Roy
-says he “has his own car” but it’s actually a scooter
-can’t communicate v well
-gave a baby a lightbulb to play with once
-cheesy pickup lines that he 100% believes are smooth
-very easily convinced by the flat earth theory, but will never fall for a multi level marketing scheme pitch
Sheriff
-he’s a gemini
-what else do u need to know? babe RUN
Guy
-he is a walking red flag LOOK AT HIM
-owns more knives than shirts and makes you look at them while he talks about all the unique ways u can kill ppl w them
-got 1 tattoo and made it his whole personality
-has never once talked about his feelings. he told you his favorite season then immediately apologized “for getting all vulnerable”
-hung up on his ex 🙄
#this is satire omgggg#i love you all sry for long list pls lmk if the readmore isn’t working i’ll delete this obnoxious ass post#robin hood#robin hood memes#bbc robin hood#bbc robin hood incorrect quotes#bbc robin hood memes#sheriff of nottingham#guy of gisborne#richard armitage#allan a dale#jonas armstrong#much#sam troughton#maid marian#lady marian#friar tuck#will scarlet
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Pie Session: Sav & Dem (cont...)
***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***
“Forgiveness is what?” Lake asked, getting no response. He was the only one standing up. “I said forgiveness is MUTHAFUCKIN’ WHAT?”
“A must amongst brothers,” Sav, Dem and even Vant finished.
“So why the fuck do I have to come and break up a fight between—no why THE FUCK did I have to hear you sayin’ you hate Dem, Sav? Why you lookin’ at your brother with that much hate? I don’t give a fuck what it’s bout!”
“Lake—”
“Nah, hold on a minute,” Lake cut Dr. Pie off, he wasn’t trying to be rude, but this wasn’t that. This was where he didn’t allow anyone to intervene. His brothers, their relationship with one another was his territory. She understood where his fatherly instincts came from when dealing with them, so Dr. Pie let Lake handle this his way.
After the fight he dragged his two little brothers in her office. There would be no going home to fester on anger or time apart to overthink the situation. He didn’t do beef between Sav and Dem. Not like this, not now, not ever.
“What the fuck you do to my brothers?” Lake asked Demetria who was sitting there looking like a dummy. “They be cool until you come fuckin’ with one of them.”
“I didn’t do a damn thing! I didn’t know Sav’s girlfriend was his wife! They don’t tell me their business!”
“Sav…” Dem got up and sat next to his little brother who wouldn’t look at him. “On Daddy, Ion remember that shit. It was me, Chi and Diamond but ion know what happened. You my heart bro, I wouldn’t do shit to intentionally hurt you.”
When Sav was mad there was silence and Dem knew this. He was the king of the silent treatment and he hated it. His little brother only got shit off his chest once then would ignore you until he felt like talking.
“Sav, do you hear him talkin’ to you?” Vant asked him. “Stop bein’ a fuckin’ nut!” Silence.
“If I may…” Dr. Pie inserted, staring at Lake who’d in her opinion politely shut her down the first time. However, she wanted to try a more therapeutic route now. “Sav, we didn’t hear much of what Dem had to say. I believe he was trying to explain. You have every right to be upset and are entitled to your feelings, I think you should at the very least hear your brother out. This is more than just your brother, Dem is your best friend, yes?”
“He my best friend, but best friends…brothers don’t do that to each other.”
“What did Dem do?”
“He went the fuck to her,” Sav pointed to Demetria. “Behind my back! I wouldn’t ever tell a outsider shit about my brothers!”
“I’m an outsider?” Demetria questioned as if she wasn’t.
“That’s what the fuck he said,” Vant snapped.
In that very moment Dr. Pie realized it wasn’t about Dem sleeping with Chi at all. He felt betrayed by his brother’s actions with their mother. In actuality, Sav probably didn’t even care or register that Dem slept with his somewhat girlfriend at the time. Their relationship to one another obviously knew no bounds even against wives. Dem and Sav would consistently choose each other over everything.
“Sav, I’m sorry.”
“We vowed to hate her, Dem. I know it seem childish as fuck and that was a long time ago but that’s what I did for you, I wouldn’t love her, spend time with her, nothing. I would never go to nobody about you, especially her. She throw that shit in my face like she do to you and I know you was happy bout it!”
“Sav, why the fuck would I be happy she told you some shit like that? I didn’t even remember that happened either!”
“Rushon was there, he picked Dem up from my house. I have nothing to lie for.”
“So two of my brothers is fuckin’ nuts,” Sav scoffed.
“Nigga watch your fuckin’ mouth,” Vant warned him. His baby brother was stepping out of his lane now and into Rushon Porter which he had no tolerance for. Wreck wasn’t there to defend himself, so he wasn’t about to let that slide.
“Out of all the people to talk about me to, you choose her?”
“Sav…”
“Naw, it’s all good.” Sav sat back staring ahead not necessarily at Dr. Pie but more so in her direction as his focal point.
“It ain’t all good if you actin’ like this, Sav,” Lake said. “Make up with him right now.”
“I forgive you,” Sav declared with a blank face, voice void of any emotion.
“Do you, Sav?”
“Yes, I’m just mad right now but I’ll get over it. “
“Well you was sayin’ some hurtful shit.”
“You did some hurtful shit!” Sav snapped.
“Ard, relax,” Vant laughed. “Y’all too damn old to be fightin’ still anyway.”
“Vant shut up,” Lake told him.
The office door burst open and Chi’s eyes were only for Sav. She walked over kneeling in front of him, taking his hand, placing it over her heart. They were all at Lake and Avery’s house when he got the call. They knew something happened, but Lake didn’t say anything before he left. They got Ivy to text Vant and he told her what happened. Chi raced to Dr. Pie’s office.
“Sav, on our daughters, I did not fuck Dem—”
“Man—”
“No baby listen,” Chi grabbed his hand tighter. “That night it was me, him and Diamond. We all went to her house, we was off pills and shit. I went upstairs because I started feeling sick. Lookin’ back I think that’s when I was first pregnant but anyway, ion know what the fuck happened while I was up there, but I came back down and Diamond was fucked up and Dem was on the couch knocked out, like dead ass sleep. I had to check to make sure the nigga was breathin’ cause he looked dead. Diamond said they was fuckin’ then he just started tweakin’. At that time, I’m thinkin’ it was the pills but knowing what I know now, it was…well…” Chi nodded, not needing to say what exactly was wrong with him since everyone already knew. “The next day, he got up and didn’t say shit, we was in the kitchen like nothing happened, Diamond wasn’t even mad. Dem left and that was it. On everything I did not fuck him but that weird ass night I just never even brought up because ain’t shit happen so there wasn’t shit to tell. Dem ain’t say anything either so I’m like oh ard we cool, it was a bad night but it’s whatever. Sav, I did not know what was wrong with Dem back then and my intentions was not to fuck him.”
“That’s why Diamond be actin’ like that now?”
“Yea nigga, you fucked my friend up,” Chi rolled her eyes at Dem then softened when they went back on her husband. “I ain’t even sayin’ this to cover me, I’m tellin’ you because I know Dem mean everything to you. He was not even tryna fuck with me like that but we both cool with Diamond and he knew I was your hoe then, so it was never on some behind your back shit. We was just chillin’, it went left and that’s it. I guess he thought we fucked cause it was the morning after and me and Diamond in the kitchen basically naked still cause you know we don’t like clothes.”
“So…wait a minute,” Vant scrunched his face up in confusion. “Dem blacked out?”
“I guess that’s what it was, ask Diamond,” Chi shrugged. “Like I said, at that time, I thought he was tweakin’.”
Sav turned to his brother with tears in his eyes. He said all that mean stuff to him and he was in a vulnerable place. He was hurt Dem went to his mother about the situation, but it was probably because he thought he did something wrong to Sav.
“It’s ard bro,” Dem said, already seeing his little brother ready to cry. He looked just as he did when they were kids and Sav would get his feelings hurt from Dem being mean to him.
“Naw,” Sav took his hand from Chi hugging Dem. “I’m sorry man…I didn’t mean it. I know you love me.”
Chi got up, standing to her feet satisfied. She did not come there to clear her name, but to make things right with her husband and his brother. A happy healthy Dem meant a happy healthy Sav and mostly everyone settled on those terms. It just was what it was.
“Sav, it’s ard. I know how you get when your feelings hurt but I would never hurt you bul. You everything to me.”
“I know but I ain’t have to do all that,” Sav cried with an ugly ass face making them all laugh. “That shit wasn’t cool bro.”
“Ayo,” Dem smiled, hugging his brother tighter. “It’s ard, I promise as long as you forgive me.”
“You still love me?”
“Always.”
“Y’all niggas stay on that gay shit,” Vant shook his head.
“Nigga you and Wreck still fall asleep on the phone together,” Lake revealed. “Shut the fuck up.”
“We do not!” Vant denied knowing damn well.
“That’s the story that was told to me so don’t think I tried to start some mess,” Demetria said, ruining the moment entirely. It was like throwing ice cold water on someone while they were dreaming peacefully. “He said he felt bad for having sex with that one,” she pointed to Chi with her nose turned up.
“Oh, this your mom, Sav?” Chi asked, then took her earrings off and started for Demetria but Sav hopped up holding her back. Dr. Pie didn’t need to witness another fight. They already did the most at her place of business.
“Chill…”
“Naw cause she tryna cause problems in my household and I don’t even know this hoe!”
“Hoe? Little girl please, the same heifer that slept with both of my sons?”
“Yes, hoe! The same heifer that can’t even love her own damn kid! The same heifer that call my husband beggin’ for money! Yea, you hoe!”
“Chi,” Dr. Pie stood up, grabbing her hand. “Come on, let’s have a seat.” She sat her down in her chair. “Let me ask, Dem why did you think you’d had sex with Chi after that night?”
“I can’t remember.”
“What made you tell your mother that you slept with Chi?”
“Ion know, I don’t really remember.”
“Do you have these blackouts often?” Dr. Pie asked, and Dem looked at Lake then Demetria. He didn’t want to talk about it in front of her. In front of everyone like this. The whole room’s attention was on him and he didn’t like that.
“Everybody get the fuck out,” Lake said. “Especially you,” he pointed to Demetria. Sav pulled Chi to the side and they seemed to be in an argument but kissed one another then she sucked her teeth and left. “You want me to stay Dem?”
“Nah…”
“Ard, I love you man,” Lake hugged him then Sav. Vant did the same and they left.
“Were you not comfortable with everyone around?” Dr. Pie asked Dem who shrugged. “May I ask why?”
“It just ain’t something I talk about wit everybody.”
“Sav is still here.”
“Cause my baby brother seen me in ways even Lake hasn’t before.”
“Were you one of those ways the night with Chi?”
“I guess,” Dem shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
Dr. Pie assessed Sav more than she did Dem. It seemed as if they were communicating even without looking at one another. They sat close and without boundaries. She’d never seen black men be knee to knee so comfortably. Especially not in their age group.
The most interesting part was every time it seemed as if Dem was ready to try an recall, Sav would tap his leg to Dem’s and then the response of him not remembering came.
“How often would you say these blackouts occurred?”
Dr. Pie waited for a tap from Sav, but nothing so Dem got ready to answer. She was completely floored and never noticed it before. It was astounding that the little brother protected his big brother so much that he didn’t want him even saying certain things that could possibly hurt him or almost, trigger him. Dr. Pie found it admirable whether it stunted Dem’s mental health or not. She would hope it was something they were able to work through but dealing with these two, she could tell it wouldn’t be anything close to easy.
“When all that shit happened, yea, they was happenin’ a lot.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Me not remembering is worst then knowing. Sav was there for a lot of my blackouts. He can tell me the shit I did. When he not there…” Dem shook his head. “I get lost…real lost.”
“You were lost the night with Chi?”
“Mhm…”
“If I may, why did you go to your mother after you left Diamond’s house?”
Dem sighed heavily, then looked at Sav who turned to him briefly. They were making sure this was okay for each other to talk about. This was a part of them neither Sav nor Dem liked to get personal about with anyone outside of Lake.
Tap.
“I don’t remember.”
“Sav, you said the two of you vowed to hate your mother? When did this occur?”
“We was like eleven and thirteen.”
“This pact still means something to you until this day.”
“My daddy told me nothing come before him, so nothing ever has and I don’t need no speech about why our relationship unhealthy or weird. We done heard it all and I don’t care. My daddy said Dem is my responsibility so that’s just what it is. I’ll die by that.”
Dr. Pie was no match for the reign that was their father. Even Lake stood by principles until that very day of the man who’d raised them up to be what she saw today. In her opinion, the late Hassan did some serious indoctrinating on these boys for them to live by things that were solidified in their childhood. Again, admirable but very unhealthy.
“Does your wife and children stand a chance against Dem?”
“The love is different, it’s that simple.”
“Dem, is it the same way for you?”
“Yea,” he shrugged. “It’s just different. Can’t explain it.”
“I already know what you thinkin’,” Sav laughed. “It ain’t like we love each other more than our kids, the shit just different.”
“Are either of you willing to expound?”
“No,” Dem answered for the both of them. “It ain’t something anybody can understand.”
“Do your older brothers understand?”
“Yea,” Sav nodded. “But they gave up a long time ago.”
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