#syverson angst
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Two Most Wanted Pt. 4...Anytime you Like
Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"
Summary: You have your way with Sy. Or is it him having his way with you? 🧐
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, talk of birth control, Graphic sex. Fingering, manual sex (f receiving) oral, Dom Sy is coming out to play, degredation AND praise kink, dirty talk kink, begging, raw p in v, size kink, pleasurable pain, rough sex, copious amounts of bodily fluids, some fluff and just a lil' angst at the end. This is 2.5k of porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot.
Read at your own risk. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N: This is the fourth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Previous part here
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Sy gladly let you pull him into your rental.
Then, he took control.
He pushed you against the wall and placed his hands on your waist, bending down because of the height difference, even though you were wearing four inch-heels. You’d missed how tiny he made you feel.
Sy’s mouth was so close to yours as he queried you. His eyes were so intense.
“You’re not done with me yet, eh?”
You pouted and his lips tenderly touched yours, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips. His tongue insisted that you belonged to him and yours agreed, the two dancing passionately.
“Good girl. Opening up for me like that.”
Your head was spinning and you whined in your throat.
“Hm.”
Sy grunted and then smiled before he kissed you again. You were glad for the wall as you were weak for him again.
“Whatcha wanna do with me, Buttercup?”
Sy’s fingers were on your ribcage now, his large hands spanning your torso. Then, his hands were everywhere as he explored your body, from your breasts over your dress, to your back, down to your ass, which he squeezed as his mouth possessed yours again.
“I want to be your cum slut, Sy. Want you inside me.”
Sy stopped moving, resting his forehead on yours and his hands on your hips. He huffed into your face.
“Holy shit, Buttercup. I thought I was calm after what that mouth of yours did in the Bronco. But what that mouth of yours says…”
Sy’s hand was on your jaw and you turned your head to capture his thumb and suck it.
“Wan’ you to fill me up, Sy.”
You looked him straight in the eye as he pressed the rock hard length in his pants against you. His pupils were blown and you felt enormous power.
“Hm. The thoughts you think, Buttercup.”
Sy examined your face as he questioned you, his blue eyes making you shiver.
“You want me to fuck you raw…?”
You smiled at his lewd suggestion and the gravel in his voice, and lifted your arms, placing them on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.
“I’m on the pill. And tested regularly. But only if you want to.”
The expression on his face was priceless.
“If I want to? Hell, Buttercup. I’ve wanted this for 20 years. Jesus, it's really happening.”
He looked as if he would devour you.
An unexpected joy at his want caused a giggle to bubble up in your throat as Sy rolled you around the corner, further into the room, and started trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck right below your ear. His hand was on your ass as you started to grind on air. He remembered your spot.
“Fuck, Sy!”
His other hand came up around your neck and tightened to let you know who was in charge, and you whimpered as he looked down at you and grinned.
You pouted at him, frustrated because you wanted to feel all of the things at once.
Sy’s hands roamed, finding your waist again and lifting your feet off the ground as he kissed you, making you heated at the show of his power. He set you down again, squeezing your breasts and sucking the tops of them in your dress as you writhed in his grip.
“Let me see you in the light, Buttercup.”
He reached around and wasted no time in pushing his shirt off your shoulders and unzipping your dress to let it fall to the floor.
Sy stepped back and took all of you in. You felt like a piece of art as he studied you. You concentrated on not covering up.
This was a long time in coming.
“Damn, Buttercup. You’re so beautiful. All of you. Better’n my dreams.”
Sy looked into your eyes after taking in your curves. Hungry.
“Kiss me, Sy.”
He did as you asked, hands on your breasts now, kneading them and weighing them in his hands, his thumbs thrumming you like an instrument. He kissed you fiercely, then looked into your eyes again as he slid down to inhale you, mouth sliding over your flesh, between, underneath, on top, and finally, sucking your nipples into his mouth with abandon.
You moaned as your pussy pulsed with need.
“Sy…please…”
“Don’t rush me now, baby. I’m gonna savor this.”
He kissed you again, and then slid his hand down your torso to your pussy, finding you still so wet for him.
“Hm. Such a good girl, with such a good pussy. Here. See.”
He held your gaze as he brought his fingers up and put them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.
It was so dirty that you practically came from the taste of your desire for Jacob Syverson.
“Thaaaat’s a girl. Get ‘em even wetter.”
He removed his hand and brought it back down to your cunt.
“I want you to cum for me. Right now.”
“S-Yyyyyyy!”
Most of his fingers went inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. He practically lifted you off the ground as he fucked you with his hand, watching your face as he alternated marking you up and sucking your nipples hard.
“So fuckin’ hot, Buttercup. Good girl.”
His voice was doing things to you. Sy grinned and his eyebrow arched as he felt you clench on his fingers. He brought his mouth close to your ear.
“Which is it, Buttercup? Are you a cum slut, or a good girl?”
Your head went back into the wall as you moaned, baring your throat to him again.
“Or is it both? Are you my good little cum slut?”
“Oh my fucking godddddd!!!!”
You came in his arms and Sy watched you, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t wait anymore.
He picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed as he took off his shoes and clothes. You sat up to look at him.
He was massive. Sy had matured from a lithe youth to a grown man and he was thick all over. The curls on his head continued on his face and on his chest, a dark rush of it pointing down to his cock, which you knew was big, because you’d tried to swallow it earlier. But seeing it like this, hard and throbbing, curved against his hairy stomach, large mushroom tip leaking, thick shaft throbbing, made you lean back with your legs open.
‘I want that,’ you thought.
Sy took it in his hand and started stroking, causing precum to drip out and you to lick your lips.
“You’re about to get it, Buttercup. Anything you want. Look so fucking beautiful all laid out for me.”
You smiled as you realized you’d said that out loud and you opened your legs wider as he climbed between them. He handled you like a rag doll as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to his legs as he knelt on the bed. He grabbed your knees and spread your legs up and apart as his long thick cock slid in between your legs, smearing your wetness all along the underside of his shaft.
“Mmmmmmmm, Sy, want more.”
He was skating in your slick, driving you wild with the tease of the cap of his cock catching on your clit as he moved back and forth.
“Patience, Buttercup. Need to lube myself up with your cream.”
Sy was enjoying how wet you were and the fact that he was actually between your legs after all this time. He watched, almost mesmerized, at his cock moving through your folds, and his dick jumped, slapping you on the clit and making you moan.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… OH shitttt. It’s too much!”
You’d gone from begging for his dick to pleading for mercy as his thick head breached you. You stared at Sy wide eyed as he grabbed his shaft and stopped moving. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting you.
“You good? Want me to…”
He made to pull out and then you implored him.
“No! I mean, it’s so big, Sy… but I want it. Need. It.”
You grabbed your breasts as you felt him cock jump within you.
“More, please.”
“Mmmmmmoooooahhhh,” Sy groaned deeply as he slowly eased into you and at the vision of you pulling your own nipples as he stretched out your soul.
He bottomed out and licked your exposed neck, causing you to shudder in his hands, which were gripping your ribcage. You looked like sin and felt like heaven around him.
“You good, Buttercup? Please say you’re good. I need you to be good, baby. ‘Cause I need to fuck you so bad….”
Sy was panting and his heartbeat was erratic.
As always, his words made you gush wetness and you arched as you kissed him, laying down fully and bringing your hands to his short curls.
“I’m good Sy,” you looked him in the eyes. “So fucking good, all full of you. Fuck me. Please… ah!”
As soon as you said ‘fuck me,’ Sy started moving slowly, dragging sparks with with each millimeter of movement inside you.
“More…”
You whispered it as all of your senses came alive and were overwhelming you.
Sy sped up and looked from your eyes to his cock destroying your pussy. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long, your face, your hair splayed out beneath you, hour breasts with nipples erect and bouncing, the way he was moving you like a doll as he helped himself deliver the dick to your pussy.
“Good god Buttercup. This cunt is so tight and wet and hot for me. Shit, you stretched around me is so much better than my imagination….”
“Ooooh. Sy. Feels so…Your cock goes so deep.”
It had never been like this before. With anyone.
Sy gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned back and grabbed your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half so that he could plunge even deeper inside you.
Your head shot up to witness him ravaging you as he slowly fucked you with long and deep strokes. You dug your nails into his forearms, holding on for dear life. He fucked you so good that you gouged scratches down his arm and the pain sparked a new pleasure in him that he didn’t know he needed at the moment.
He was inspired to fuck you better, faster, harder.
Sy reached up behind your head and pulled it down by the thick curls at your nape as he leaned over you, caging you in with his massive body as he thoroughly and soundly tried to put you under the bed.
Your belly tightened, your insides in a vice grip of pleasure as you tried to run. There was nowhere to go, however, as Sy was all around you. He felt you tense up, heard your whimper and kept a steady pace, his balls tight against him, the notion of making you cum with just his cock a long held ideal.
“What’s wrong Buttercup?”
He looked you in the eyes before he kissed your lips.
“Afraid to let go? Don’t want to let me have the cum I’ve been waiting for?”
“Unh! Sy…”
You felt him in your belly, thick in your channel like he was made of you. You knew what was about to happen. And you wanted to get away from it.
Sy read the look on your face.
“Unh unh. You’re going to stay and take my cock like a woman. Not gonna run. You’re gonna take this orgasm, gimme your cum like I deserve it.”
Sy didn’t let up on the intensity, but he looked down and surveyed what he was doing to you.
“Look at all that beautiful cream. Looks so fucking good. Making me drool.”
You had an out of body experience as you watched the saliva leave Sy’s mouth and drip onto your clit and as soon as it made contact, you came, gushing more fluid in between you two.
Sy pounded you through it for a few thrusts, then he pulled out and rushed to collect some of you on his tongue.
“Goddamn. So fucking good, Buttercup. Taste yourself.”
He was up again and before you could protest, was back inside you, hand on your throat as he kissed you hard and deep, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his resolute pounding and the taste of your cum combined. He trailed his hand down your neck to your breast, rolling your nipple for a second before finding your hand and holding it above your head as he looked into your eyes.
Suddenly, he became tender, looking as if he was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear, so your other hand found his ass as you encouraged him to find his own end.
“Gimme your cum, Sy. You owe me. Some. Cum.”
He licked his lips at the filth you were uttering and responded in kind.
“Anything you want, Buttercup. I’ve got so much, you’ll be leaking for days.”
You arched your back and bit your lip at his words and as the music of skin slapping on skin intensified. You felt yourself tighten impossibly around him again. And so did Sy.
“Oh…. no….”
You felt as if you couldn’t take another, but Sy wasn’t done with you yet.
“Oh, yes, baby. Just give me one… more….”
Sy’s thumb found your clit and as you came around him, he emptied all he had inside you.
“You feel like…like heaven, Buttercup.”
Your hands were on his face as you watched his ecstasy and as he pumped more and more of his seed inside you. You smiled and kissed his forehead as his head bent in exhaustion. You wanted to say that he was beautiful, but that would be more than you wanted to convey. You just kissed his lips when he looked back up at you again, and you collapsed on your sides, your bodily fluids between you and his slowly softening cock still inside you.
Sy pushed your hair back from around your sweaty face.
“Look, Buttercup, I know that you are holding back. But you can’t stop me from saying it again.”
“Sy-”
“Shhhh, Buttercup.”
Sy smiled. Handsome wasn’t the word.
“I love you. ‘Til the day I die.”
He brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.
“I know you’re still trying to process everything, and I can only imagine all of the things that are going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but you’re mine. I’m claiming you. Whether it's for the rest of our lives, or just for this weekend.”
You just looked at him and nodded, emotional and unable to speak.
“Just want you to know where I stand. This wasn’t just notalgia sex.”
He slipped out of you and rolled over on his back before he got up and headed toward the bathroom.
“And for whatever time period I have you, I’m yours. Anytime you like, Buttercup.”
He looked back at you with a saucy grin as he caught you ogling his ass.
You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him turn on the water. There was a lot going on in your head, but Sy had just told you that he wanted you and simultaneously taken the pressure off this weekend.
You thought about what you wanted. And what you wanted was currently taking a shower. You walked into the bathroom to have some more of him. You opened the shower door and Sy reached out and pulled you in.
“Get in here Buttercup, the water’s fine.”
That grin would do you in.
——
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Heart Of The Matter
Summary: A few weeks after you and Sy break up, you show up on his doorstep determined to win him back.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 8k
Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, couples fighting, smut, some angry sexual contact, slight praise kink, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation (male), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, some fluff at the end.
Authors Note: This took a lot longer to write than I had anticipated. I've had a rough week in my personal life and truely, the angst and the making up of this ended up being pretty therapeutic.
As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @amberangel112 and @henryobsessed and @nashibirne , your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated.
Edited by me, there will be errors
Thanks to the Anon who sent in this prompt, I hope you enjoy it.
Dividers by me.
Masterlist
Looking in the rear vision mirror, you rub your sweaty hands on your jeans before running them over your hair, checking that it’s still in place. It’s dark, you can barely see and the streetlights are not sufficient to check your makeup, but you try to look anyway. You’re also stalling.
“Fuck it.”
Steeling yourself, you draw on every last bit of courage you have and get out of your car. You close the door as quietly as you can manage, and wince as you lock the doors and the headlights flash.
You pull your v-neck down over your hips then stick your hand in your bra and reposition your tits. Your shake your head and ask yourself for the millionth time, What the fuck are you doing?
You should have worn something else, something a bit less provocative because you know he’s going to know exactly what you’re trying to do.
Drawing in a deep calming breath, you straighten your shoulders and walk to the door you haven’t knocked on in three weeks. You start confident, but with each step your will seems to wane and by the time you climb the few stairs to his porch, your knees are trembling and your hands are shaking.
The moment your foot hits the timbre decking the porch light comes on and you are momentarily blinded.
Fuck.
You had forgotten about the sensor light.
You’re frozen in place, unsure whether to keep going or run back to the car. As you agonise over your decision, a dog lets out a low growl and you gasp.
Shit.
“Shhh, Aika,” you take the remaining steps to the door and whisper, “It’s only me, girl.”
Her growl turns into a playful bark, and you can see in your mind's eye the way she’s probably sitting with her tail wagging enthusiastically.
“Aika! Hush,” you say a little louder, but she ignores you and barks again, then you can hear her scratch at the door.
Fuck.
You aren’t ready.
If Sy wasn’t already aware that there was someone on his porch, there is no doubt he knows now; there’s no way he didn’t hear Aika barking. Losing all courage you turn and run down the porch steps like a criminal fleeing the scene of a crime, pulling your keys from your bag, praying you don’t trip in the dark.
You don’t make it far when you hear your name.
Shit.
You close your eyes, grit your teeth, plaster a smile on your face and turn around.
Immediately you want to close your eyes again and you thank every God you have ever heard of that Sy was too far away to hear the whine that forced its unwelcomed way up your throat. Wearing only light blue jeans, they weren’t even done up, he fills the doorway with his bulk and stands like Adonis with his bare chest puffed out and his arms crossed.
You avert your eyes as you climb the steps again, concentrating on Aika. She’s sitting just like you thought she’d be, tail wagging and everything. She makes you smile, you had missed her, and as if your smile is a sign, she bolts through Sy’s legs. You giggle, as she stands at the top of the porch steps and you reach out to give her a pat.
“Aika,” Sy calls sternly.
For a second Aika seems torn, looking from you to Sy, then back to you. He grimaces then purses his lips to make a kissing noise and calls her back. Aika takes one more look at you before she runs back into the house between Sy’s legs.
Biting your lip you finally raise your eyes to look at him. The look he gives you makes your guts churn. He doesn’t appear pleased to see you, not one bit.
You feel like such an idiot.
You clear your throat to greet him, but he speaks first.
“Sugar,” he says in a husky voice, somehow managing to make your old pet name feel like an insult in his mouth, “What do you want?”
“I…” you flounder, licking your lips as you try to collect yourself, “I thought…”
You try to find the words to explain what you’re feeling, but the eyes that flatly stare back at you aren’t giving you any sign that he wants to hear anything you have to say. His tongue runs over his teeth and he sighs.
Jesus.
He couldn’t make his annoyance any plainer if he tried.
“I just…” you try again. God, this is hard. “Can I come in?”
You start to climb the steps, but he raises his eyebrows at you and you stop short. He keeps staring at you in a way that makes you feel like he’s looking into your soul, like Anubis weighing your heart after death, deciding whether or not to gobble you up.
He looks at you for so long, you think he is going to say no, then abruptly and without a word, he stands back from the doorway and sweeps his arm out in invitation.
Your throat tightens as you climb the stairs. You keep your eyes on the ground as you walk past him and try not to make a sound as your nose picks up the scent of his spicey soap. You catch a whiff of his woodsy beard oil; it was the same one you had given him for his birthday and then you smile. Maybe it isn’t hopeless after all.
He closes the door behind you and you stand awkwardly in the entryway, still unable to really look at him. His fingers briefly brush your skin as he lifts your bag off your shoulder and hangs it by the door. It was a familiar gesture, one he’d done a hundred times, but this time it made you gulp.
“Want a drink or anythin’?'' he asks. Even while annoyed he is polite, a good host. His mother would be proud.
“Maybe a glass of water,” you say, softly, raising your eyes to find him looking intently at you.
Sy’s tongue slides swiftly over his bottom lip before he pulls it into his mouth and gives you that hard stare again as if he’s trying to read a deeper meaning to your words.
“Water,” he repeats as he half smiles and you wonder what he finds amusing. He lifts his chin, using it to point to the couch. “Go on, I’ll bring it out.”
Aika is sitting on her blanket, her ears lift as you enter the room. As soon as you sit, she pads over, popping her head on your knee like she used to. You scratch behind her ear, grinning as you watch her tail swish and her hind leg tremble with pleasure.
“Miss you too girl,” you murmur softly.
Sy comes in with a glass of water and a beer, and he places the water on the coffee table. He looks at the sofa, then over at a single seater and you see his mind working, deciding if he should sit next to you or across the room. He snaps his fingers and points to the blanket and Aika pads away, giving Sy room to sit next to you and he opens his beer. Although you sigh with relief, the crack of the can seems abnormally loud in the awkward silence between you and your anxiety rises until you feel like your heart is going to burst from your chest.
“So,” you say, “how have you been?”
He looks at you a long time before he exhales roughly through his nose and shakes his head.
“Busy,” he says, waving an arm around the room and for the first time you notice the moving boxes.
“Right.”
It’s not that you forgot he is moving, it’s the reason you had the argument in the first place, but you were more focussed on other things.
“When are you leaving?”
“In a week,” he says.
“Not long then.”
“Nope,” Sy says, popping the ‘p’ as he says it. He moves his head side to side as if arguing with himself and his annoyance returns. “I can’t do this,” Sy puts his beer on the table, “Just cut the bullshit, Sugar and tell me what you want. Why are you here?”
“I… I don’t know,” you stammer, unable to hide your nervousness from him any longer.
“You don’t know,” he says each word slowly, drawing them out. His eyes run over your body and he leans in closer. “I think you know exactly why you’re here.”
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
“What else,” he asks in a throaty tone that makes your mouth feel dry.
He drops his gaze to your low cut top and he bites his lip. He raises a finger and traces the edge of the fabric, his warm pad leaving your skin feeling scorched to the bone. You feel like you're barely breathing, but you can see how quickly your chest rises and falls beneath his touch.
“I don’t want us to not be on friendly terms.”
“You wanna be friends?” He shakes his head and smirks, his drawling voice is low and as slow as pouring honey as he continues, “You sure about that? Cause from where I’m sittin’ you look like you want somethin’ else.”
“I… I wanted to…”
Sy leans in so close to you, you can smell the beer on his breath. You draw your thighs together as your body thrums. Being so close to him like this is intoxicating and the worst thing is, he knows how he makes you feel; you’ve never been able to hide the effect he has on you when he unleashes the full extent of his potent sexuality. He puts his hand on your neck and his thumb caresses the shell of your ear before he tugs softly on your earlobe.
“You wanna hook up ‘fore I go? Have ourselves one last farewell fuck. Are you here for that?”
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it, if it wasn’t part of the plan to get him back. You had definitely dressed to get him thinking about it. But you also aren’t planning on it being the last time.
“I still love you, Sy,” you whisper because you can’t catch enough breath to say it any louder.
“Un-fuckin’-beliveable,” Sy says coarsly. He straightens, removes his hand and leans back into the corner of the couch. He’s no longer crowding you and you finally feel like you can breathe again. “It’s too late for that, Sugar.”
“I said I was sorry, Sy. I—”
“Sorry ain’t gonna fix what's happenin’ here, darlin’,” he interrupts with a thin mouth and a shrug, “I still gotta move, ain’t got no choice. You refused to come with me, so that’s it. This is as far as we go.”
“You didn’t even give me a choice. You just sprang it on me.”
“I told you it was a possibility when we started datin’. I told you how it works.”
“But you wanted an answer then and there. You didn’t care that I’d have to see if I could get another job first or find another apartment.”
“I told ya I’d take care of you. I don’t live on base, you could live with me. Take your time finding work if you wanted…” Sy rubs his palm over his head before running it over his face and beard. “Darlin’, I don’t wanna go over all this again. There’s no point.”
“But I…”
“I don’t hate ya, baby,” Sy says, giving you a heartbreakingly spiritless smile, “I wanted to but I can’t. So if that's what you needed to know, well now you know.” Sy stands and adds, “And if that's all, I gotta get to bed.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“Things haven’t changed. I’m still bein’ transferred and you’re still not willin’ to come with me so what's the—”
You stand, folding your arms angrily across your chest, and talk over him, “You’re not giving me a chance to explain.”
“To explain or to dig the knife in just that little bit further,” Sy’s jaw clenches as he turns away from you and he slams his mouth shut as though he has more to say and is biting back the words.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” your voice cracks and frustrated tears sting your eyes, “I never wanted to hurt you.”
The tone of your voice makes Sy turn back to you. His eyes are wide and his brows are pinched and raised.
“I don’t want us to be over,” you sniff, trying to get control of yourself, “I don’t want to lose you, but you’re asking me to give up everything I’ve worked for without even considering giving anything up yourself.”
Sy’s hands cover your cheeks and he wipes the tears from your eyes. “I tried to tell you, I gotta go where they say when they say it. I told you,” his voice lowers and he softens his expression as he rests his forehead against yours, “that I wasn’t the right man for you.”
“But you are, Sy,” you whisper, “You’re everything I could hope for.”
“But here we are. You’re cryin’ and my heart is breaking cause I can’t do a thing about it.”
“You’re worth crying for.”
You tentatively rest your hands on his waist. His skin is so warm and so firm that your hands itch too feel the texture of the rest of him. His hands press into your cheeks tilting your head until your noses rub against each other’s.
“I ain’t,” he insists softly.
Your mouths are so close that you breathe in his words and they burn your lungs like acid. How could he think that? How can he not see how much he is worth? And you realise in that moment he doesn’t think he’s worth it because you never showed him he was.
You didn’t choose him.
You wanted to, you still want to. There has to be a way around this. This can’t be the end.
His beard brushes your chin as your arms wrap around his back and letting out a sob, you close your eyes.
“Shh baby,” Sy soothes. His lips brush yours as lightly as a feather while he speaks, “Shh, It’s alright, it’ll be ok, you’ll be ok.”
His lips are stroking yours, not quite kissing you, but you can feel his silky flesh skimming over yours. He mumbles his reassurances as his hand moves to cradle your neck and his other presses against your back drawing you closer and though your bodies meet, he draws you closer still as if he wants to pull you inside himself, fusing you together until you can no longer be torn apart.
Then abruptly, he loosens his grip and lifts his head.
“You should go,” he says. He reaches behind his back and removes your arms.
“Why?” you ask, confused by his sudden change in attitude.
He picks up your drink and his beer and you follow him as he goes into the kitchen.
“Why?” you ask again.
“Cause it won’t change anythin’,” Sy says, emptying your glass and pouring out his beer into the sink.
“I’m sorry,” you say, trying desperately to hold back your tears, “It hurts Sy, it hurts so much.”
“I know, baby,” he says in a rough voice.
“Can’t we forget Sy? Can’t we forget and have one more night together?”
“It doesn’t have to be our last night, you could still come with me,” he turns to you and takes you in his arms again, “I still want you to.”
You feel stricken, sick to your stomach, “I–”
“Don’t say it again,” he interrupts, raising his fingertips to your lips, “I can’t hear it again.”
His fingers trail over your lower lip, dragging it down before he reaches your chin and lifts it until you’re looking at his heated blue eyes. His gaze is firmly locked on your mouth and his lips part as he breathing becomes laboured.
“One more night, you’re mine?”
You could drown in his voice, it is so deep and seductive. He seems to tower over you, making you feel vulnerable, but you aren’t scared of the feeling. You’re far too eager to care.
Desperate you nod, “However you want me Sy,”
He looks torn, reluctant but also hungry. He bites his lips and closes his eyes. His hands slide down your shoulders, his touch achingly gentle and though you’re too scared to breathe, in case he stops touching you, you raise yours to his chest, relishing the feel of his coarse curls beneath your fingers.
With a frustrated growl Sy reaches for your neck, his huge hand covers your throat as he backs you against the counter, his hips pressing against you.
His kiss is bruising, punishing as you crash against the counter with a thud, his hands are at your pants and he tears at your button and zip. With viscous impatience he drags your panties and jeans down your thighs. You kick off your sneakers, unwilling to stop kissing him even as his fingers claw into your hips. He lifts you to the counter and strips you of your remaining clothes.
His hand grips your jaw as he steps between your legs. His fingers dig almost painfully into your cheeks as he makes you look at him. Your eyes widen, as he spits on his hand and he opens you up, finding your heat instantly.
Your eyes slide close and you sigh with relief as he fills you with a finger. Your repose is brief though because he shakes the hand holding your jaw.
“Look at me,” he snarls, “Don’t close your eyes, you look at me.”
You nod as he slides in another finger, and he kisses you with his eyes open.
“This one is mine. You give me this one more time,” his voice lowers and a dangerous edge creeps in as he adds, “Cause the next time you do this, I ain’t gonna see it,” he kisses you and it's softer, but still not gentle, and he whispers, “It ain’t gonna be ‘cause of me.”
His eyes are glacial fury as he fucks you with his fingers. His look is a stark contrast to the heated reverence that you’re used to seeing. You raise your hand to his cheek, wanting to melt his gaze, wanting to see the warmth he used to have for you. With an aggravated growl, he jerks his head away from your touch.
You flinch, he’s never done that before. His eyes widen and he lets you go. His eyes travel down your body and he follows the path with his hand. Your body quivers, so caught up in the heat of the moment that you don’t care if he hurts you.
You almost want him to.
“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth. He picks your shirt up and throws it at you. “I can’t, I’m too fuckin’ angry.”
“I don’t care,” you beg, “I’ll take you like this, I’ll take you angry, I’ll—”
“No,” he says, turning his back on you, “Get dressed.”
“You still want me.”
“No shit.”
“Then what's the problem?”
“This ain’t us, this isn’t what we were. This isn’t…” he shakes his head, his voice is low, emotive, “this isn’t how I love you.”
“Then just talk to me, figure this out with me, please?”
“Put your clothes on.”
Shame fills you. You’re pushing yourself on a man who may be attracted to you, but sure as hell doesn’t want to be with you. Your pride can only stand so much. You take a deep breath, it rattles through your tight throat, but you lift your chin. You tried, you don’t know what more you could do, so you dress as quickly as possible while your whole body trembles trying to hold in your frustration and misery. You can’t look at him as you pull your pants on, but you feel his gaze like you would feel the heat of a bonfire.
As soon as you slip your shoes on, you start to walk to the door, your pace quickening with each step until you’re practically jogging by the time you’re on the porch. Hot tears are running down your cheeks and you know it’s over.
Even as you’re running across his yard to your car, you’re pulling your keys from your bag. You hear the Sy’s front door bang shut and he calls your name, but you aren’t going back. You have too much pride.
Sy always teases you about being slow, how you’d lose your keys in your bag or how you take twice as long as him to be settled in the car, messing with the radio before putting your seatbelt on. Not this time though. You start to laugh through your tears as you put your car in drive and peel off just as Sy reaches the sidewalk.
You can see his figure in the rearview mirror, mostly in shadow, you can’t make out his features. But you can see his hands are on his head as he slows to a walk and he watches you drive away.
As empty headed as a zombie you crawl into bed a few hours later. You cried on the way home, cried in the shower, cried as you tried to watch a movie to get your mind off Sy, cried as you tried to read. Eventually, you had no more tears, no more energy to focus on negative thoughts and you made it into bed.
Just as your brain gets foggy and the swirling visions of dreams start to overtake you, the shrill of your phone hauls you from your slumber.
In the darkness you reach for the receiver by the bed and numbly mumble a greeting.
“Okay, talk.”
“Sy!” you cry in shock.
It takes you a few beats to make sense of his words. Your mind is suddenly clear, but for the life of you, you don’t know what to say.
When you had gone to his house, you had so many ideas of what to say, but the whole evening had not gone as you had planned. Now, you have no idea where to begin or if he even really wants to hear what you had to say.
But he’s calling you, reaching out to you, asking you to talk. Maybe he isn’t ready to let go either.
“I don’t think you moving means we have to end things,” you start.
There’s a pause, long and deathly quiet.
“Go on,” he says, finally.
“We could treat it like a deployment,” you continue, “We’ve done that before.”
“It’s different,” Sy says dismissively.
“I don’t see why,” you counter.
“‘Cause you can’t come with me when I’m deployed, there’s no choice. You chose not to come with me, that's the difference.”
“Not forever. I didn’t say that. Just for now.”
There’s another long pause before he speaks. “What are you saying?”
“I've only been at this job for twelve months, it's not enough time to really get the experience I need,” you explain, “If I stay for another year, I’ll be able to apply for more jobs. I should be able to get a job near you much easier and without starting from the bottom again.”
“A year?” Sy asks, drily. “A year?”
“Sy that's nothing in the scheme of things.”
“We had plans,” Sy states without any explanation, but you don’t need any. You know what plans he had; white picket fences, a yard, marriage, kids, the whole nine yards.
Here it is, the modern woman's question; what's more important, kids, or a career?
“We did,” you say, carefully, trying to keep your cool, but you feel a ball of frustration growing in your gut, “We also talked about solidifying my career before we went down that road.”
Sy chuckles bitterly, “I see. We’re back to this, we’re always back to this.”
You want what Sy wants, but not with the urgency he seems to want them. You’d be lying to yourself if this isn’t the real reason for your split. This is the crux of why the schism is so deep, of why he refuses to even listen to you when you say you aren’t going to drop everything and move with him.
“You know I…” you shake your head, “I never wanted to have kids, never wanted to get married. That was always what you wanted–-”
“With you,” Sy interrupts, “I wanted that with you… want that with you.”
“And I want that with you,” you say.
“So what’s the fucking problem, Sugar? Just come with me.”
“I want something for myself first, Sy!” The ball of frustration in your gut bursts. “I want to accomplish something for myself before I give it all up for you!”
“See that's the problem. It shouldn’t be for me or for you, it's for us,” Sy growls. “You never think of us. You only ever think in terms of you or me, never for us.”
“That's not true!”
“No?” Sy argues, “Name one thing that's ours, huh? After all these years, what's ours? We don’t even own a plant together for fuck’s sake. Be honest with yourself, you were never committed to this. We were convenient, easy until it wasn’t, cause you ain’t ever had to actually do anythin’.”
“What did you do Sy?”
“Fuckin’ everythin’,” he says, “I put you first with everythin’, you think it was easy for me?”
“Oh you mean you stopped screwing around? Jesus, Sy, you didn’t cheat on me, so that makes you a saint? That’s the bare fucking minimum!”
“You’re fuckin’ joking, right? I changed my career. I made plans, all my plans, around us,” Sy’s voice gets louder, louder than even the last time you fought. “I went Officer for you for fuck’s sake–”
“You went Officer for yourself,” you retort.
“I did it for us, for the money, so we didn’t have to go through this shit, worryin’ about you workin’.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sy. You did it for your ego!”
“Bullshit!” Sy bellowed.
You suck in a breath. He’s never yelled at you before. Ever.
His silence is eerie.
“Sugar, I… You’re wrong,” Sy says softly now, “You’re so wrong.”
You thought your tears were done, but your chin wobbles and your eyes sting. “I’m going to hang up.”
“Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya.” Sy’s voice sounds hoarse, it’s so low you can barely make out the words.
You don’t say anything, you just hum, hoping he takes it as acceptance of his apology.
“I’ll quit,” he says quickly, desperately, “I’ll quit. I’ll do somethin’ else.”
“I can’t let you do that,” you say, trying and failing to keep your voice from wavering, “You’ll end up resenting me. Like I will end up resenting you if I go with you.”
“Why did ya have to come over?” Sy asks, his voice is muffled, so quiet it's like he’s on the other side of the world. Right now, he may as well be. “Why did ya… It don’t matter.”
You want to ask him what he was going to say, but he’s right. It doesn’t matter.
Sometimes… sometimes there’s no solution.
“It really isn’t going to work for us, is it, Sy?”
“Sugar… God damn. I want it to. So fuckin’ much.”
You sniff softly, wiping at your tears. You’re exhausted, so fucking tired, you can’t keep doing this.
“I’m going to go,” you mumble, your eyes closing as you lay back into the pillows.
“I don’t wanna hang up, Baby.”
You laugh, it's short and you smother it immediately with your hand. You can almost see what Sy’s face would be like in your mind's eye, how he’d draw his brows together and tilt his head, a half smile on his face as he asks…
“What’s got you tickled, Sugar?”
“I just remembered when we first started dating and you’d stay on the phone…” You’re still smiling, but your eyes water and you can’t finish.
Sy hums, you can hear his amusement in his tone. “Wanna stay on the phone until you fall asleep?”
You do. So much. But…
“Please?” you ask.
He hums again, this time it's not as strong, as if the noise got caught in his throat. You hear movement, Sy’s breath gets a little louder for a few minutes before falling into a soft slow rhythm. You think he must have gotten into bed but for some reason you can’t bring yourself to ask.
You fight sleep for as long as you can. You know you don’t last long because it seems like as soon as you close your eyes you open them again and the cordless phone is laying by your side and emitting a long steady obnoxious tone.
Sy’s gone.
You wake before your alarm goes off. You never do that on weekends. You try to roll over and go back to sleep. You just close your eyes when you hear the doorbell.
You think about ignoring it and pull the covers up over your head. Who on earth would be at your door at 6.30am on a Saturday?
No it couldn’t be.
You sit bolt upright and throw the covers back. You don’t even bother putting on a robe and you run to the door.
You pause with your hand on the doorknob and swallow hard. Pulling yourself together as best you can, you peek through the peephole.
Oh my God. It’s him.
With a yelp you throw the door open, your eyes wide as you see him standing there. Your mouth works trying to say something, but you can’t make the words form.
“A year,” he says, simply, “I can wait a year.”
“Sy…”
“Baby…”
Then his arms are around you, drawing you close, his mouth crushing yours so hard you’re sure they’re going to be tender tomorrow, but you don’t care.
Sy lifts his head, walking you back into your apartment, closing the door behind him with his foot. He holds you close while he raises a hand to smooth down your bed hair, his eyes searching your face, caressing your cheeks, your lips, your brows.
The more he touches you, the more his eyes seem to soften. Whatever intimacy, whatever connection had been lost is coming back. You lift your hand to his cheek, needing to touch him, needing to feel his warmth again. He covers your hand with his as he turns his head and breathes deeply, closing his shining, stormy blue eyes while he kisses your palm. He stays there his lips pressed against your skin, until he releases a long ragged breath.
“Love you so much,” he mumbles quietly, as if talking to himself, “I was such an ass thinking I could let you go.”
Happy tears well in your eyes, he wipes them away as quickly as they fall. “Me too, me too.”
“I want you,” he stresses, “I get so greedy and impatient cause I want all of you. But that's on me. It’s wrong of me.”
“I’ve made you wait a long time, Sy,” you say apologetically.
“You’re worth it. I don’t want any of that other stuff unless it's with you.”
Knowing you don’t have the words to tell him how you feel, you let your actions speak and pull on his shirt, bringing his mouth to yours. You kiss him softly, slowly, wanting to take your time rebuilding the connection. Although you’d been apart only a few weeks, there has been a shift and you need to ground yourself in each other again.
When you pull away, Sy takes your hand and leads you towards the couch, “I guess we ought to talk about how this is all gonna work.”
Of course Sy wants to work out the logistics immediately, but you have other things on your mind. You shake your head and smirk.
“Later,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and lifting your face to his.
His nose nudges playfully at yours and you giggle a little as you nudge him back. You close your eyes and press your lips against his. Sy hums, returning your kiss immediately, though he holds back. He lets you take the lead, lets you deepen the kiss when you’re ready, lets you take his hand and lead him to your bed.
Your heart thumps hard in your chest as you lay on your head on the pillows and you can’t stop your thighs from cinching together as Sy crawls up the bed, kicking his shoes off as he goes. He lays on top of you, leaning on his elbows and smirks.
“Are we making up, baby?” Sy asks in a roguishly husky voice.
“You wanna talk first?” you ask in reply, raising an eyebrow.
Sy slowly shakes his head, his eyes darkening as he grins wolfishly. You had planned to take it slow, to kiss, to reconnect, but deep seeded need takes over and in a rush of tangled and frantic hands, you tear at Sy’s pants while he tears at yours, as if you were racing each other.
Beating him to your goal you lick your palm before wrapping your fingers around his cock bringing it half erect out of his barely lowered jeans. His huge body shudders at your touch and he gives up trying to get into your pants as if he's lost all coordination. He drops his head into your neck with a ragged breath and wrapping his arms around you he rolls you both onto your side.
You close your eyes, feeling him pulse and grow while he puts a hand on your neck and lifts your chin. His breath is hot as he moves his mouth roughly over you, feasting almost viciously on the delicate skin under your jaw as he rocks his hips, fucking your hand.
“Baby,” he growls in your ear before he bites your neck. You gasp and he groans, “Fuck, you touch me so good. Get me so fuckin’ hard.”
“I love touching you,” you murmur, “Love feeling you get hard in my hand.”
He pulls your head down until your foreheads touch and you breathe each other's air. “Wanna fuck ya so bad,” Sy’s voice is thick and deep, “Wanna taste ya. Want all of you.”
Almost frustrated he lifts your hand off him and holds it above your head. Sy’s body presses against yours until you're on your back then he moves between your legs, his size making you spread your legs to accommodate him.
He moves to his knees, hurriedly undressing before he tugs at your shirt and then your pyjama pants, making you raise your legs high before they drop to the mattress again.
He pauses and looks you over, biting on his lip as he shakes his head slowly. You begin to tremble in anticipation, but your eyes are as busy as his, looking from his broad shoulders and perfectly furry chest, to his cock standing unashamedly tall against his stomach.
“Sy,” you whine softly, silently begging for him to touch you.
He raises his head, his eyes seem to be pleading too as his hand presses against your slit. You inhale sharply as his fingers slide easily over you. You're well and truly wet and ready for him and your core tightens, desperately milking at nothing.
“Please,” you purr weakly.
“You don’t gotta beg baby,” Sy assures you in a dulcet tone, “Just missed looking at ya, is all.” He leans over you, holding his weight on an outstretched arm. “Gonna miss lookin’ at you,” he adds with regret in his voice.
“It’s not going to be easy for me either,” you tell him solemnly.
The edges of Sy’s lips raise in a small smile. He lowers himself onto his elbow and strokes your hair.
“I know, Sugar. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
“I’m sorry I’m not…” you shrug, not sure how to form the thought rolling around in your head, “that I’m not different… That I want—”
“Stop,” Sy interrupts sternly, “You wouldn’t be you if you were different. I wouldn’t love ya so much if you weren’t you.” He kisses your lips and murmurs, “I love your ambition,” he kisses your neck, “I love that you fight for what ya want,” he kisses the tops of your breasts, “I love that you don’t need me,” he kisses your belly, raising his eyes as he says, “and I love that you want me.”
You press your lips together as your throat seems to close up and your eyes sting.
“Sy…” you whisper because you don’t want to cry and ruin the moment. You reach down and run your hand over the velvety hair on his head, as he kisses your hip. “I do want you, so much.”
His eyes are heated as his finger slips inside you. You roll your hips on his fingers and his eyes narrow as he watches you move in a way that makes you feel like a Goddess, like he's never seen anything more enthralling.
“God baby,” he growls, “wanna fucking watch you do this forever.” And for a while he does.
Languidly, he pumps his fingers inside you, laying his head on your thigh he kisses your exposed core, his tongue lightly coaxing your clit from beneath its hood. It's lazy, teasing, seductive and sighing you lay back into the pillows, drowning in the gentle yet overwhelming sensations he brings you. Slowly he builds you to your peak, your thighs tremble as your muscles tighten and scream for release.
“Please Sy,” you beg and he hums in soft acknowledgement.
“Don’t wanna stop,” he murmurs.
You lift yourself to your elbows and look down at him. He’s laying on his side, languorously stroking his cock as he licks you. You watch him for a while, aware he’s watching you, your body heats, you're burning up and you teeter on the edge.
“Jesus, Sy,” you mumble, “I love watching you do that… make me crazy.”
“Best fuckin’ pussy,” he growls against you, “makes me so fuckin’ hard.”
He groans and lets go of himself, wrapping his arms around your thighs and buries his face deeper into you. Spiralling out of control your hips rock against him, trying to make him go faster, your desperation overtaking every thought and all you can think of is release.
“Sy I’m, I’m… Oh fuck…”
He hums, voice reverberates in his throat and you feel its vibrations on your clit. He reaches between his legs again, but he’s not jerking off, he’s squeezing the head of his rock hard cock, trying to stop himself from coming. God, he drives you wild.
You cry out as you lose control, your mind blank as you ride out the rolling waves of torrid ecstasy. You’re boneless, weak as Sy climbs over you, pushing inside you as your core is still contracting, the sudden fullness bringing another wave of hot pleasure.
You can barely wrap your arms around him, but you need to. You need to hold him, you need to feel him, his warm skin, his corded muscles, his strength, his desire, his love.
He seems to want to be close to you too, holding you tight beneath him, an arm under your lower back, the other around your shoulders. He moves slowly, barely rolling his hips, the motion a subtle and torturous rocking.
Part of you wants more, you want to feel him for days, but this, this is sublime and rare. It's the way he has you when he knows he’s leaving, when he wants it to last, when he wants you to know not just his lust, but also his love.
His mouth finds yours, his kiss is soft too, agonisingly teasing. He sucks on your bottom lip, his teeth applying gentle pressure and you arch into him, the torment of his tender touch becomes almost unbearable in its perfection.
Your caress matches his, light and easy until you can take it no more and your nails dig into his back as you clutch at him, wanting him closer though it’s impossible. You touch him everywhere you can reach, his sculpted shoulders and arms, the roughened skin of his sun tanned neck, the soft bristles of his hair.
As your fingers trace his brows, he lifts his head above yours, the intensity of his eyes takes your breath away as he kisses your hand. The look on his face changes, his eyelids get heavy and his jaw clenches as he drops his head into your neck.
You chase his mouth with yours, his breath is torrid, heavy and laced with quiet groans. His arm leaves your back and he strokes your hair, touching you with such sweet and tender care, your chest tightens and your heart aches.
His thumb wipes under your eye, you didn’t even realise you had started to cry.
“Don’t think about it, Sugar,” Sy murmurs as he moves to kiss your cheek, “Just think about here and now.”
“I almost lost you, I’m so… We’re okay aren’t we?” you whisper, because it doesn’t seem right to say it any louder.
“Hush. I’ve got you now and we’re good. I’m here. You’re here. Just be with me.”
He holds you close and rolls onto his back and sits up. Your mind spins, his strength always surprises you in the best way possible.
Sy’s looking up at you now, grinning wickedly he playfully jerks inside you. You giggle and squirm, but your breath catches he lifts his hips and slides in deeper.
“God, Sy,” you murmur, encircling his neck with your arms.
His hands move up and down your sides, he watches the path of his touch before they settle on your hips and he looks at you.
“Take me, baby,” he urges, his thumbs rubbing softly against your skin. “I’m all yours.”
You cup his cheeks, letting your fingers sink into his beard, as you rise slowly and dip.
“So good, baby,” he groans, sliding his hands around your ass, lifting you as you rise up, “So fuckin’ good.”
“I love you,” you whisper.
He exhales roughly and puts a hand to your nape and pulls your mouth to his, “I know,” he growls. “And I fuckin’ love you.”
His kiss is lingering, his touch careful, considerate and every caress restrained and deliberate. His hands move over your back in delicate sweeps and across your chest with subtle pressure as he cups the weight of your breasts gently. His mouth is soft and gentle against your tight buds.
You want more, but Sy keeps it slow, so taking matters into your own hands you lean back a bit, resting your hands on his thighs so he hits that spot deep within you. Immediately you feel hotter, your skin burning and your head lull’s back because all you can concentrate on is keeping yourself upright as you grind against him.
“Jesus, baby,” Sy groans, “Fuck me, look at you…”
You lift your heavy head and Sy’s eyes are waiting. Your heart skips a beat at his look, before pounding even harder in your chest. You’ve never felt more beautiful than at this moment.
Without breaking eye contact, he brings his thumb to his lips, giving it a quick swipe of his tongue. He groans, as he covers your clit, and you feel his touch surge up your spine like lightning.
Losing yourself in the fierceness of his stormy blue eyes you grind against him, climbing once again to your peak. Sweat breaks out across your forehead and chest but it doesn’t bother him as he leans forward licking and suckling at your breasts, muttering soft praises and encouragement.
“That’s it. That’s what I want,” he whispers, “Feelin’ so good.”
He supports your lower back with a large, powerful hand as you lose control as your thighs shake and your arms grow weak.
“Sy…”
“I’ve got you, baby,” he assures you, “Let go for me.”
His thumb moves faster and presses slightly harder to help you along. Despite how good it feels it almost throws you off-course. He knows you so well, knows exactly how to touch you to get you to fall over the edge and for a moment you’re right back in despair, thinking about how you almost lost him. It's not only that he knows what you like that makes him special, it's that he cares enough to find out, to file that information away, and to use it when you need it.
God, you love him for that; for putting you first in everything, not just when he makes love to you. That's what he’s doing, right now, loving you and putting you first, like he always has.
Your heart feels like it's going to burst as you sob out his name and the euphoric heat of your peak rolls through your body.
As your body cools and Sy clutches you to his chest, you keep asking yourself one question; How are you going to spend a year without him?
Sy is dripping with sweat as he brings in the moving boxes from your car with Aika padding along behind him, his white undershirt is damp and clinging temptingly to his body. Your heart starts to race but you remind yourself that finally, after twelve months apart, and seeing each other only a dozen times, this time there will be no goodbye. You can wait until tonight before you run your fingers through the thick curls on his chest and gently tease his nipple with a scrape of your teeth and a lick while he shivers and pretends not to like it.
“Last one. More books,” he grunts, breaking you from your daydream. He leans down to give you a quick peck as he walks past. “Gonna open a goddamn library.”
He’s smiling though. You don’t think anything could dampen his mood today. You are moving in together and in three months you’ll be married and three months after that…
“You okay?” he asks, brows a little furrowed. “Been a long day. Why don’t ya lay down and have an afternoon nap, huh? Unpackin’ can wait a while.”
“I’m not suddenly made of glass, Sy,” you say smiling, watching him place the last box on the ground and straightening.
He smirks and steps in closer to you, wrapping his humid arms around you. “I know. But you’ve been tired and nauseous and—”
“And I don’t feel tired or nauseous anymore.” You slide your hands under his shirt, feeling your way up his body with a grin.
“Oh really?”
You nod slowly, biting your lip and lazily swaying your hips against Sy. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and grabs your ass pulling you closer, rolling his hips in return.
“Woman,” he groans, “These pregnancy hormones are gonna be the death of me.”
You shrug and try to smother your grin as you say, “I can think of worse ways to go.”
Sy’s grin grows larger as he leans down to cover your mouth with his, “I can’t think of any better way to go.”
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Blinded By The Fog Chapter 7
Characters: Reader, Jolene, Aubrey Clay(OC), Madre Alverez (OC) and Captain Syverson
Pairings: Reader x Syverson, Jake Jensen x Reader
Word count: 3322
Type: angst and fluff
Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. guilt, self-depreciation, self-doubt, loss of spouse and found family, swearing, weensy bit of smooching and subtle(?) affection.
Summary: Reader panics when Sy arrives at Madre's for dinner and she is faced with talking to him about what happened a week before, and his history with Clay's daughter.
Author's Note: Thank you to @adulting-sucks for her continued support and betaing. Thank you to @jvanilly, @ronearoundblindly @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @darsynia @sconnie-doesnt-know @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @nana1000night @jynxmirage and others for the support this weekend during our Presidents' Day Writers Party.
Ask Box: Open
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
Chapter 6
You stood frozen in place as Sy, sporting a freshly shaved head and trimmed beard, followed Aubrey into the kitchen. You stared at the empty doorway, barely registering the joyous chatter that erupted at his arrival. You were too busy trying to figure out what in the world you were going to do now that he was here. You could run off like a child, get in your car and never be seen again. There was a certain appeal to that, you had to admit that.
What in the fuck is he doing home anyway? He was supposed to be on some super secret squirrel mission for the US government, wasn't he? It's only been 5 days since he sent you the message he was being sent out. He that good at his job that he accomplished whatever it was that quickly?
With a frustrated sigh, you broke yourself free from your fixed staring stance, and quickly moved to continue your task, now setting the fifth space. Once that was done, you let your mind wander as you futzed with the table as long as you could without feeling ultra awkward for not being in the kitchen with the others. Looking up, you nearly jumped out of your skin as you finally noticed the hulking man standing in the room with you, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable, cold and distant, unflinching as you squeaked your surprise. His eyes were focused on you, his jaw set and you wondered how long he had been standing there. And how he entered the room without you noticing.
Biting your lip, you tried to mimic his stoic manner, knowing you did not have it in you, and you began to crumble under his scrutinous gaze. As you felt the all too familiar sting of tears, Aaran jerked his head toward the next room. Nodding, you followed the instruction and found yourself alone in the living room with Sy. You felt suddenly embarrassed and nervous, barely able to look at him. You heard the others still in the kitchen as he stepped toward you. He stopped just short of your personal bubble, and without a word, he tucked one finger under your chin, gently guiding your face up. Your eyes flowed over his features, your cheeks reddening, your stomach doing flips it only ever did with your husband. You tried to deny that you were feeling something for Sy, reminding yourself Jake had been gone less than 2 months. This was so wrong.
But as your eyes met Sy’s, you felt something in you snap. As if he could feel it too, Sy stepped forward, almost in slow motion, the electricity between you palpable. Unable to stop, you rose on your toes, hand on his chest to steady yourself. You held your breath as you brushed your lips over his. Sy stood motionless, but didn’t hold back the soft moan emanating from his throat.
Emboldened by that sound, you pressed closer to him, your lips parting his. Abruptly, Sy cradled your cheeks in his hands, pulling closer to you before spinning the pair of you, pressing your back to a wall in the corner of the room with a low growl.
With a barely audible ooff, you grabbed his shirt, tugging him closer as his tongue filled your mouth. His knee inserted itself between your thighs making you hiss and hold on tighter, pulling his shirt from the waistband of his pants, your fingers seeking his warm skin. Your mind continued to spin with the thoughts of how this shouldn't be happening while your body sparked and sizzled with each stroke of his tongue, each touch of his hands and fingers.
Jolene called your name from deep in the kitchen. “Did you bring that wine with you?"
Ripping your mouth from Sy’s, you tried to slow your breathing as he stared at you like he wanted to devour you whole. “Yeah,” you yelled back, your eyes flowing over his face, straying from his eyes to his kiss-swollen lips. “I forgot it in the car. Lemme go grab it.”
“Great!” Her voice seemed closer, panic rising in your brain at being caught, your hands pressing to his chest “You seen Sy? Madre needs him.”
You wrap your hands around his wrists, his fingers clenching your hips, your eyes pleading with him. “Think I saw him head to the bathroom.” Sy’s tongue swept over his bottom lip, making your thighs weak before you attempted to push him back again. “I’ll be right back!"
Sy was very reluctant to let you go, but he finally let you escape to the front door. The fresh cool air hitting your burning cheeks was more than a little welcome as you slammed the door behind you. What in the world were you thinking? What had gotten into you?
Sy could, that enabling voice in the back of your mind offered.
You told it to fuck off as you slowly walked to your car, taking as much time as possible to allow yourself to cool down.
The door to the house loudy closed, making you jump and turn around. Without a glance in your direction, Sy stoically walked across the yard towards a grill in the shade of the house, pulling the lid off of it before rifling through a nearby deck box. The buzz of arousal still stirred in you, and you tried to ignore the way he looked bending over, the way the still untucked Molly Hatchet shirt rode up his expansive back, the way his bottom looked in his jeans as he rooted around for charcoal and tools to get the grill going.
“For fuck’s sake. Are you 12?” you muttered under your breath as you spun back around to pull the wine bottles from your passenger seat. Marching back to the door, you did your best to not glance in Aaran’s direction. When you did, you caught him looking at you, and smirking, that fucking smirk, making you blush hotly and almost dash for the door handle.
Somehow you found your way into the house, and back to the kitchen. Jolene raised her eyebrow at your arrival and you tried to ignore her, setting the bottles on the counter. Opening a drawer to your left, you rooted around for the wine opener you knew was in there somewhere, suddenly and desperately feeling parched, still ignoring Jolene’s stare, not wanting to know what she saw or knew, or thought she saw or thought she knew.
The opener appeared in front of your eyes, dangled in your view by perfect french manicure. “Oh bless you, child,” you muttered out loud, snagging the tool from Aubrey’s fingers as she shifted two glasses in front of you.
“You are welcome,” she laughed as you opened the wine, pulling the foil from the neck enough to get at the cork. “You ok?” she asked, finally taking your appearance in. “You feel ok?” she tried again when you ignored her as you struggled with the bottle.
“I’ll be better when this fucking thing is open,” you mumbled.
She placed her hand on yours. “Don’t hurt yourself,” she tried, pulling the bottle closer to herself. “Why don't you just ask Sy for help?”
You froze, your glance moved quickly from the label on the bottle to her face, wondering what exactly she was implying. You must have looked confused, because she clarified. “With the bottle...unless you...” she tried to hide her smirk with her hand, but you catch it before she does.
Were you that obvious? “No.” You have no idea what you are answering but the answer is no, right?
“But you want to,” she assessed from behind her hand, her eyes taking you in with glee and amusement.
The flush darkened on your cheeks, your ears joining in on the embarrassment. “That's... ohmygodshutup,” you mutter softly, with a glance over your shoulder at Jolene and Madre, the room, the house suddenly seeming way too small. With a wild yank on the bottle, you managed to get it open a split second before you could opt to run from the house and never come back again. Ignoring Aubrey’s insistent stare, you filled the two glasses in front of you, over filling one. Tossing the opener still holding the cork to the counter, you sipped just enough from the glass that threatened to spill over before grabbing it and the bottle. You quickly moved into the dining room. As you settled in a chair facing the doorways to both the kitchen and the front hallway, you took a healthy (or unhealthy depending on your opinion on the matter) drink from the glass, half emptying it as Aubrey followed behind you. “We are just gonna be in here chatting if you need anything,” she sing-songily called to the other two women, knowing that Madre was just waving the two of you to relax and sit.
The younger woman took the seat next to you, her face filled with glee and intrigue, which you chose to ignore, or at least tried to. “Shut it,” you grumble from inside your glass’s bowl.
“Did you-”
“I said shut it,” you insisted.
Nodding, she shifted tactics.�� “He’s a good guy, you know,” she offered with too casual of a shrug before taking a sip from her own glass, her eyes trained on the table top. “Daddy always liked him,” she said softly, her voice tight as she sipped again.
It was your turn to look at her with intrigue, but before you could ask what the backstory was between Clay and the other man, hell between her and Sy, the front door opened and booted feet came down the hall. Sy regarded you two with that same raised eyebrow he gave you earlier, only his eyes were softer as he wandered into the kitchen. “Ready for the meat,” he announced to Madre, his face split with a toothy grin. With her own broad smile, she slipped a platter off the counter and into his hands and patted his cheek, something you had seen her do countless times with Cougar and even with Jake and the other Losers. She adored her boys, her love was unending for any of them. And they in turn returned it with just as much zest as she did. It brought such warmth to your chest and -your old nemesis- tears to your eyes.
To hide them, you lifted the glass to your lips and swallowed a mouthful or maybe two or three. By the time you came up for air, Sy had stepped back outside and Jolene came into the room carrying bowls of food. Aubrey fussed and ushered her into a chair as you instantly hopped to your feet insisting she should be sitting. The momma-to-be just rolled her eyes at all of you but relented, settling in the chair on the opposite side of Aubrey. By the time all of the food was moved to the table, Aaran returned with a plate full of beautifully charred skirt steak. The scent of wood smoke surrounded you as he leaned in behind you to place it in the center of the table, taking the opportunity to press his fingers of his opposite hand against your side as he straightened back up. You shot him a glare which earned you a bit of the handsomely alluring smirk in return.
You almost tripped over your own feet as you moved to your seat, reaching for your near empty glass as Madre entered the room, putting Sy next to you. Draining the liquid, you reached for the bottle and refilled the glass. Your favorite youngest member in attendance wandered back into the room with the second bottle already opened in her hand along with a pitcher of water and a fresh beer for Aaran tucked in her elbow.
The five of you shared your meal with only slightly awkward conversation, or at least that’s as you perceived it as you continued to imbibe your liquid courage, your mental diatribe shaming you for what had happened in the other room; you felt like everyone at the table was judging you for your traitorous thoughts and actions, making you slink down into your chair as you picked at your meal.
The conversation around you jumped through what was going on in everyone’s life, the other 4 falling into comfortable dialog. Joining in on the conversation only when called to, you were lost in your own head, the heat from Sy sitting so close and his scent, god his scent had your brain completely turned inside out with impure thoughts as well as an overwhelming sense of guilt.
As you reached to empty the second wine bottle, Aubrey’s hand landed over the top of your glass. If looks could have killed, yours would have at least amputated that hand as she smilingly pleaded with you to cut it out. A large warm hand landed on your thigh, gently squeezing as Sy refilled your glass with ice water instead. You turned your murderous gaze to him, which only earned you a concerned smile.
You hated them both, you conceded as you sipped your water. All of them, you changed your mind as you caught Jolene’s soft smile. You chose to ignore reading Madre’s expression. Her disapproval would just kill you to your soul and you didn’t need that today.
Instead of sticking around to be judged, you opted to start clearing the table, shooing everyone else to stay seated as you took their dishes into the kitchen. Aubrey silently ignored your wishes bringing you a few of the serving bowls, squeezing your arm as she set your water glass within easy reach of the sink as you scraped your plate into the trash. You kissed her cheek in thanks and then smacked her ass with a hand towel, sending her scooting back into the dining room with a wide grin.
Sy of course entered the kitchen with a raised eyebrow of curiosity and a hint of dirty intent as he took in your handling of Aubrey. Narrowing your eyes at him, you just quietly shook your head as he set the last of the serving dishes on the counter for you. You tried to ignore him but the infuriating man took the chance to simply squeeze your shoulders and deposit a kiss on the side of your head as you took another sip of water. You may have noticed him offer you his ass as he walked back toward the other room but you chose to not acknowledge it with anything more than a singular middle finger held up, your eyes focused on which dish to clean next.
You had to admit to yourself you liked this shift between you and Aaran, even if it gnawed at you that it was too early to be exploring something new with someone. Jake’s death was only a few months ago. You owed it to him to mourn more before moving one, didn’t you? The man who meant the world to you, the love of your life, your forever, deserved more than to be swept aside a mere 2 months after his death.
But did allowing Sy into your life in a more intimate capacity really diminish what you felt for Jake? Here was the real issue for you, and the true reason you kept reaching for the alcohol tonight. It really didn’t diminish anything, you were clearly still grieving the loss of your husband. You were likely going to grieve him as long as you drew breath. It wouldn’t matter when you let someone else into your life, today or ten years from now. No one would ever replace Jake.
Wiping at the tears that leaked out of your eyes, you continued with your task, your shoulders a little less burdened, your consciousness a little less pain ridden. Once the coffee machine quit percolating and the dishwasher was turned on, you returned to the table a bit lighter than you had left it. Setting miss-matched mugs and the pot on the table top, you waved Sy back into his chair again as you turned to grab the milk and sugar.
Jolene called behind you. “There’s a-”
“Pie on the counter,” you finished, having seen the baked good, and knowing Jolene's inability to show up for a dinner empty handed. “Got it.”
You couldn't stop the man from following at the mention of dessert. Giving him a light eye roll, the two of you silently moved through the kitchen, both of you having made yourselves at home at Madre’s countless times. You found yourself relishing in the feel of his light touches, the comfort you felt from him helping you gather all you needed from the kitchen, your mind finally relaxing into the possibilities of this being a thing.
Madre patted your arm and smiled at you as settled the stack of dishes and pile of cake forks next to the beautiful pie Jolene had brought with her. You turned to grab your wine glass of water you had left on the counter, leaving Aaran to the honors of slicing the pie into the desired slice sizes of the other three women.
When you returned, you found a sizable piece of blueberry pie on a plate in your spot, much larger than anything you could fully consume, especially after you may have helped yourself to a scoop or two too many of one of Madre’s signature dishes at dinner. You groan silently as you stab your fork into the pie, half of your forkful filled with crust. Snagging the flaky pastry with your finger tips, you slip it in your mouth, catching Sy watching you from the corner of your eye.
“What?” you whisper incredulously at him, wondering what caused his interest.
With a not so hidden smile and a shake of his head, he turned back to his own dessert, cutting a portion of it to shovel into his own mouth, turning his eyes back to Jolene who was telling a story down on the other end of the table.
The meal ended shortly thereafter with Jolene’s announcement that she needed to get home and into bed. At her insistence that you all should stay and continue to visit, you drained your coffee cup as Syverson snagged your pushed aside half full plate of pie, settling it on his own empty plate. Ignoring him, you stood and followed Jolene to the kitchen after she hugged Aubrey and Madre and waved at Sy. You babbled about the upcoming classes the two of you were attending later that week. You promised to be by after work, and the two of you would go grab dinner before the class started.
“Night!” came the chorus of voices from the table as the two of you walked to the front door through the dining room. At the end of the hall, you held the door open for her as she stepped over the threshold onto the porch. She shushed you, waiting until you quit your babbles about how helpful you were going to be to her and how she had this mother thing down. With a soft dewy eyed look that could very well be a trick of the porch light, she bit her lip. “He seems like he’s good for you,” she told you softly.
Your mouth fell open at her comment. “Who? Sy?” Your sluggish brain whirled at the perceived permission from another widow to allow this new man into your life.
“No the fucking mail man, you dumbass,” she laughed, wiping at her eyes. She kissed your cheek, squeezing you tight before turning to step from the porch. “Love you!” she called as she walked to her car.
“Love you too,” you repeated automatically but not insincerely as your heart pounded hard in your chest.
This might be ok with others?
Chapter 8
Tag lists
General Tag List: @littleone65, @mysweetlittledesire
BBTF Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sconnie-doesnt-know
HC Tag LIst: @m07belzen @used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hawklin
#Blinded by the fog series#jake jensen x female reader#jake jensen fanfiction#jake jensen x reader#jake jensen angst#captain syverson fanfic#captain syverson fic#captain syverson x reader#henry cavill character x reader#chris evans character x reader#henry cavill#captain syverson fanfiction#cpt syverson#captain sy#mourning#jake jensen fanfic#the losers movie#the losers (2010)#blinded by the fog series#syverson angst#the losers fanfiction#sand castle fanfiction#Henry cavill character x reader#chris evans#Henry Cavill#captain syverson smut#captain syverson x you#captain syverson#captain syverson angst#captain syverson x f!reader
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Are my tumblr girlies breathing okay after seeing Hen in The ministry of ungentlemanly warfare trailer!?
Surely we weren't expecting that😭😂
Ps- Yes I too got light headed each time he stuck his tongue out. He's fucking wild in this and I'm here for it
Ps Ps- is it just me or that character seems like mix of Captain Syverson and Napolean Solo lol!?
CANT WAIT FOR TUMBLR TO GO WILD WITH THIS MAN'S FICS!!!!
@shellyshellshell @littlefreya @augustsprincess @mayloma
#henry cavill#the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare#augustwalker#walter marshall#charles brandon#geralt of rivia#captain syverson#august walker x reader#charles brandon x reader#august walker angst#walter marshall smut
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Sy's Therapy Barn
Summary: Austin Syverson is newly retired from the Army and struggling to cope with his PTSD. Until he decides to take a chance on a hobby, most wouldn't think could help, and the person there to help teach him how to do it.
Pairing: Syverson/Reader
Word Count: 5k
Rating: M - Quick-Burn, Language, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of PTSD, Combat Fatigue, Trauma, Wine drinking, Flirting, Support System, Movie Quotes, Leap of Faith, Mentions (but no depictions) of Mental Illness, Domestic Violence, Alcoholism, SMUT - Light, P in V
Inspiration: I saw this Instagram video of a handsome, buff gentleman that ran a pottery business and promoted it on the site.
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed it. I am so sorry to any Pottery people for butchering it.
Syverson wouldn't lie, even though he had thought the hobby was stupid, the first time he thought about it. But, upon seeing a poster at an outdoor market he had decided to attend one, warm Dallas weekend, to get out of the house. Something inside of Sy had urged him to save the number in his phone, before finding the ale stand.
It wasn't until almost a month later, after waking up in the dead of night. He laid curled up in a ball, hugging his knees and struggling to breath. With the blankets and pillows thrown off the king-sized bed, and the black fitted sheet beneath him drenched in his sweat. Aika pressed against his back and whimpering at her owner's distress. It was then that Sy knew he needed something more, other than just denial, the gun range and booze to deal with his PTSD and Combat Fatigue.
He wasn't about to go sit down on some squeaky metal, folding chair, in the basement of some random religious church, listening to other Vets talk about their combat experience. Everyone nodding their heads and offering sympathy and the Word of God. Sy had stopped believing in God over a decade ago. Because, how could some magical man in the sky, with some grand plan for you, before and after you died, allow such bullshit evil into the world.
He didn't want sympathy, far from it.
Austin Syverson, also didn't do sympathy.
So, he pulled up the number from the outdoor market and gave the business a call.
“Mini's Pottery Haven, how can I help you?” A cheery voice chimed on the other end.
Sy let out a hard breath. “Hi, I saw your poster at a market, a couple weeks ago, for a pottery class.” He said, rubbing a palm over his buzzed head, feeling stupid for calling a pottery business, thinking it would help him, in any way, with his trauma. “I was wondering, if you're still doing classes?”
“Yes, we are!” She confirmed, happily. “We have one tonight, with two spots left, if you'd like to join it.”
“Oh!” Sy started, surprised, not expecting one so soon, hoping for a day to work up the nerve to call her back and cancel. “How much is it?”
“Thirty dollars, for just one person, and sixty dollars for a couple.” She informed him, pressing her phone to her ear and bringing up the planner on her computer. “You can pay when you arrive at the class.” She added, distractedly.
Sy paced his kitchen for a moment, before pausing and straightening his back. “I'll take one of the spots and pay the thirty, when I arrive.”
“Excellent! Can I have your name, please?”
“Syverson.” He answered, out of pure habit.
“All right, we look forward to seeing you tonight, and what you create!” She told him, her voice upbeat and optimistic, like she expected Sy to be the next Michelangelo, before hanging up.
“The boys would lose their shit, if they ever find out I tried pottery.” Sy said, stuffing his phone into the front pocket of his jeans.
Later that night, Sy found himself standing out front of the humble, little pottery shop, the full window front was bright from the lights inside, which was flowing with people, all standing around chatting with each other and holding glasses of wine.
“At least, they have booze.” Sy commented to himself.
“First time?” A soft voice asked, from behind him.
“Huh?” He frowned, turning around to find a gorgeous woman standing behind him, a large bag slung over her shoulder, as she regarded him with a kind expression. “Oh, yeah. You?” He asked, trying to be polite.
“Naw, I've been getting my hands messy with clay for years.” You smiled at him, patting your bag. “I assume you're here for the class.” You asked, motioning towards the shop.
“I am.” Sy nodded, licking his lips. “Just working up the nerve to go inside.” He explained to you.
“Ah, yeah. We pottery nerds can be dangerous.” You teased, smirking up at him. “You make one reference to Ghost in there and they'll turn you into a clay mold. If not, pelt you out of the shop with lumps of it.” You giggled, moving by him to step up onto the curb and grab the door handle.
A laugh rumbled out of Sy's broad chest, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I'll make sure to keep the Ghost quotes to myself then.” He said, turning his sparkling blue eyes towards you.
“Well, no time like the present.” You told him, pulling the door open and holding it for him.
“That's true.” He nodded, his smile softly fading as he joined you on the sidewalk, stopping beside you for a moment. “Thanks for the pep talk.” He said, giving you a gentle nod, before going inside.
The place was a buzz with voices as he paused by the counter, taking out his wallet to pay for his admission for the night's class. He glanced over his shoulder to see where you'd gone, but you had vanished somewhere into the crowd. Shrugging, figuring you'd paid in advance or had some sort of membership, he handed over his bank card to Mini, the owner of the business, who was a sweet looking, elderly woman, dressed in a loose and colorful, bohemian strap dress. Taking his card and the Hello, My Name Is: sticker she handed back with it, Sy turned away, spotting the small wine station, also surrounded by numerous black sharpies. He headed over, scribbling Sy, on his sticker and poured himself a glass of some kind of red wine, before finding somewhere quiet to stand, to wait for the class to start.
As he stood there, sipping his wine and looking at a wall of finished clay figurines, cups and other knick knacks, he felt a pair of eyes on him. Clearing his throat, he glanced sideways, figuring you were checking him out, which he was more than fine with. But he discovered it was another woman giving him eye-candy. She was tall, with bleach-blonde hair and in a hot-pink tracksuit, she felt out of place for a pottery shop. Though, Sy knew he shouldn't be one to speak, standing there in a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt, that had been to war with him, tight blue jeans, a pair of cowboy boots, with a black stetson cowboy hat.
The way she lifted her wine glass, however, suggested she wanted to jump his bones.
Which only amused the retired Army Captain.
“All right, ladies and gentleman!” Mini called, clapping her hands together and coming around the counter to regard her customers. “If we can all head towards the other end of the shop, where all the potter's wheels and everything are. We can start the class.” She smiled, motioning everyone to the back.
Everyone moved to the back in a messy, single-file line, still sipping the rest of their wine and chatting with each other. The woman in the pink tracksuit lagging back to walk with Sy, fluttering her lashes at him.
“Ma'am.” He acknowledged her, touching the brim of his hat, but didn't give her much else.
“What's a man like you doing in a pottery class?” She asked, biting the corner of her lip.
Sy licked his lips. “I got nothing better to do.” He said, not willing to admit the real reason he was there to her.
“I'm sure a big, strong, handsome man like you could find something to do.” She insinuated, fluttering her lashes at him.
“Pottery is just fine, thanks.” Sy replied, offering her a weak smile.
“Everyone, please find a pottery wheel and it doesn't matter which one.” Mini said, motioning to the dozen or so pottery wheels in a circle, a round lump of clay already waiting on them to be shaped.
Sy waited until almost everyone was seated, not wanting to take the chance of getting stuck sitting next to the woman hitting on him, far from that mood tonight. So, taking up a pottery wheel and grabbing the provided apron, he took off his hat and set it on a shelf behind his wheel, and slipped on the apron. Sy chuckled, sitting down on the comically small stool before the wheel, as he balanced his large, muscular body on it, smirking up at the rest of the group; seeing some of them sit on the stool like they'd done it a million times and others wobble.
“The first thing we're going to do, before we start shaping our clay,” Mini began explaining, sitting at wheel herself, apron on and perched on her stool, like the forty-plus year pottery maker she was. “is to assign our first timers, helpers. I will be giving instructions and so forth, but your helper will be there for you, just in case you need a refresher or get frustrated.” She told the group, looking around at everyone. “But just remember, just like us, human beings, we are all unique and beautiful. It doesn't matter how many times your clay refuses to shape into what your mind's eye thinks it should, or tears apart, or even if it doesn't bake right in the kiln. It is still beautiful! You still brought it into this world with your own two hands, and you should be proud of that. Because it's something no one else in this room did.”
Sy blinked at her, slightly taken aback by her statement. So used to Army instructors drilling into him about, if it's not perfect, you're dead or your buddy next to you, is.
“So, helpers, I'll let you pick your person. You've all worked here before, so you know how to identify them.”
“And how do you do that?” Someone blurted out, making Mini and the helpers chuckle.
“Well, that's one way for us to find you.” One of the helpers quipped in an Australian accent, moving across the room to said person. “But, it's the name tags, mate, or Ryan, I should say.” He smirked, offering out his hand to the newcomer. “I'm Joel.”
“Those of us here that don't have a name tag, are old pros.” Mini smiled, resting her forearms on the edge of her potter's wheel, while the rest of the helpers spread out.
“Good to see you made it all the way into the building.”
Sy looked over his shoulder and grinned up at you. “Yeah, I had a little bit of help.” He replied, glad, and a bit surprised, to see you were one of the helpers.
“Well, you're about to get some more help.” You said, glancing at his name tag. “Sy.”
He felt a lump lodge in his throat as you said his name. “That's great.” He rasped back. “I'm going to need it. These hands have only known how to do one thing, for the last twenty years.” He told you, holding up his calloused mitts.
“Oh, you got good hands for clay shaping.” You said, taking one of them in both of yours. “I'm sure we can teach these pups a new trick or two.”
“Can you teach this ol' pup any?” Sy asked, smiling at you.
“I might.” You nodded, pulling a stool up beside him. “Let's listen to Mini first, then we can find out what you want to make that clay into.” You told him, giving him an encouraging smile, that cracked open the door to a place he had tried to keep shut.
“Everyone have their partner?” Mini asked, looking around, then nodded. “Good! Now, you're going to learn your proper posture for molding.” She began, leaning forward and started her instruction for the next several minutes.
“Christ, I don't know if I can remember all that.” Sy said, blowing out a breath and shaking his head at his mound of clay. “I'm just a simple country boy, fresh out of the Army.”
You giggled beside him, lightly patting him on the back. “That's why you got me.” You reminded him, sweetly. “Now, what do you want to make? And, I swear if you say a dildo, I will get up and leave.” You warned him, seriously.
“Have people actually asked you that?” He frowned, cocking his head at you.
“Yes, more often than you might think.” You huffed, shaking your head. “I'll make anything else though.”
“To be honest with you,” Sy started, frowning down at the clay and shaking his head. “I don't know what to make. I've never been the artistic type. I always failed art class back in school.”
“Well, that's the wonder of art, and clay for that matter, Sy.” You told him, softly. “You can make whatever you want. You don't need to be artsy for it. What's the first thing that comes to your mind? Anything at all.”
“My dog.” He blurted out, biting his lip, feeling silly for it.
“All right, what about a dog bowl?” You suggested, tossing out the first dog related thing that came to your mind.
“Could we make a bowl?” Sy asked, looking over at you.
“Absolutely!” You nodded, grinning. “If you wanna make a bowl for your doggo, then we'll make one. I'll use all ten years of my clay making experience to help.”
“All right, a bowl for Aika, it is.” Sy nodded back, inspired.
“That's a sweet name.” You commented, watching Sy position himself, much as Mini instructed, then drizzle a little bit of water onto the clay and cup it in his large hands, almost hiding it completely in his palms as he started to work the wheel with his foot. “Good, that's a great speed. Keep it up. Little less pressure though.” You reminded him, watching the clay start to pancake a bit.
“Sorry.” He apologized, letting off on it.
“You're all right.” You answered, shaking your head. “So, what made you try out pottery?” You asked, reaching out, instinctively, to add a little more water.
Sy was quiet for a long moment, playing with and shaping his clay, watching the thick residue from it cover his fingers and palms. While trying to find a way to answer. He could give you the same answer he'd given the pink tracksuit lady or he could be honest. Spying you from the corner of his eye, he noticed you weren't waiting for a reply, not being pushy or intrusive. You had simply asked him the question and given him the space to answer it, when and if he wanted to with no hard feelings.
It was a breath of fresh air to him, just like feeling the wet clay in his hands. Knowing he was creating something, not harming it.
“I was hoping it would help me,” He finally answered you, licking his lips, deciding to be honest. “With my combat PTSD.” He added softer, waiting for your reaction.
“It can be quite calming.” You admitted, no ill reaction on your face. “It can also be rather frustrating.” You chuckled, with a smirk. “I about tossed the piece I was working on this morning, when one of the sides collapsed on me. I'd only been working on it for six hours.”
“Six hours!” Sy exclaimed, sitting back to look at you more steadily.
“You suffer for the art sometimes.” You told him, with amusement at his expression. “But, it's well worth it in the end. Most of the time, at least.”
“Christ, I hope this doesn't take that long.” He said, looking down at the weirdly shaped, almost oblong bit of clay on his wheel.
You looked around the room, before leaning close to Sy. “I think you're wonderful, Oda Mae.” You whispered into his ear, so none of your friends could hear you, knowing the complaints they'd give you for the reference after the class.
A huge smile crossed Sy's face and he howled with laughter, catching everyone's attention.
“I crack a good joke, we all know it!” You told them, grinning with guilt.
“I like you.” Sy said, once everyone's attention went back to their own station. “You're the first person that's made me laugh, like that, since I came home on retirement from the Army. A year ago.”
“Oh yeah?” You grinned, feeling a hot rush through your body that wasn't the glass of wine you had earlier. “Well, if you think I can crack a good joke, you'll see how good of a pottery teacher I am.”
“You take any students?” Sy blurted out, before he knew what he was thinking.
You floundered, mouth hanging open. “Um, no.” You admitted, shocked he'd asked, then saw the light start to fade in his blue eyes. “But I could consider it.” You said, quickly. “Especially if it helps you cope with your PTSD.”
“I think it just might.” He proclaimed, finding himself smitten with both pottery and you.
You laughed, throwing up your arm as Sy flicked the wet clay on his fingers at you. “Austin!” You tried to duck the mucky droplets as they splattered all over your apron, the side of your arm, face and hair, still giggling.
“You were looking a bit dry over there!” He guffawed, grinning at you. “What the heck, are you shapin', anyhow?” He asked, balancing himself back on his stool and eyeing your kaolin clay, seeing the strange, cup-like shape you had going.
“I don't really know.” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders at the grayish-yellow clay before you. “I'm just trying to understand it, and make something. That will hopefully not crack in the kiln. If I ever get around to firing it.” You told him, leaning forward again, feeling the soreness in your lower spine and forearms from working in that position for so long. “What about you?” You asked, cocking a brow at Sy, without looking away from what you were starting to consider your Frankenstein.
“Another ceramic grenade cup.” You smirked, curving your thumb into the center of the clay. “Or, what was that tea pot you made?” You asked, giggling as you recalled pulling the craft out of the kiln.
“I don't want to talk about it.” Sy replied, sounding disgruntled.
You laughed, nodding your head. “That's right, it was supposed to be a turt—Austin!” You shrieked, as his big, wet clay covered mitt swiped across your face. “Oh my god!”
“It was nothing, woman.” He huffed at you, with mischievous eyes, as he sat back down. “But I do have a question for you, babe.”
“Oh?” You replied, standing up to wipe the streak off your face before it dried.
“I was thinking,” He paused for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip as he continued to work his clay. “I still have a large chunk of my retirement payment from the Army, just sitting in my bank account.” He said, scowling as one side of the clay started to collapse.
“All right.” You nodded, staring down at him, as you stood between your two pottery wheels in the garage of Sy's house, situated on the ten acres he owned.
“I've been considering,” He licked his lips and sat back, to look up at you, wanting to see your face when he said aloud what had been on his mind for the last year and a half. “I want to open up my own shop.”
You blinked at him a couple times, processing his words. “Your own pottery shop?” You asked for clarification.
“Yeah, I want to open a pottery barn, to help Vets, like myself. Hell, to help anyone with PTSD or trauma. It helped me through so many nights of episodes and flashbacks.” He explained to you, babbling out the idea that had been swirling around him, and looked back up. “You helped me.” He whispered quietly, before shaking his head and squeezing the clay on his wheel.
“It's a stupid idea.”
Watching him destroy the piece he'd just spent the last hour and a half working on, stung you, but it hurt you more to hear him say his idea was stupid. You thought it was incredible. That it was so thoughtful and sweet of him to want to share a hobby that had given him so much in the last two years.
You were flattered to be a part of that journey with him, as well.
Your big bear.
“I think it's a terribly-” You sat down in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “good idea, Austin Syverson.” You declared, kissing him lovingly. “And if I hear anyone say otherwise, I'll pelt them with wet clay, until they think it is.”
A bright smile pulled across Sy's face as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “So, you'll come be my first employee?” He asked, nosing the side of your neck, smelling your perfume mixed with the earthy scents of pottery, tinged with a light sheen of sweat from how warm it was in the garage.
“Oh, I'm going to work for you, am I?” You cooed, amused. “What position, do I get?”
“Hmm.” He hummed, pressing his lips to your skin. “How about the head of pottery?”
“What's your job going to be?” You asked, eyes fluttering shut.
“I'm the boss.” He chuckled, tugging on your ear. “I'll have a bunch of jobs. But there's no one I trust more than you, with all your infinite wisdom of pottery, to run that area.” He told you, his hands pushing under your tank top. “I do only have two years of experience, compared to your thirteen.”
“Oh, laying it on thicker than a glaze, Captain.” You purred, feeling his fingers leave trails of drying clay on the skin of your back. “But I do like the sound of it. Do I get to boss you around during classes?” You asked, cupping the back of his head in your palm and rubbing the short hair there with your thumb, while your other hand dripped to the strings of his camouflage apron.
Sy smirked, giving your neck a sharp bite and making you gasp. “You boss me around already.”
“I do not!” You huffed, with an amused flash in your eyes, pushing his head back to look up at you.
“Whatever you say, my darling.” He replied, blue eyes sparkling.
“That's what I thought.” You smirked, kissing the bridge of his nose.
Pulling his hands from your tank top and gripping you by the hips, Sy pushed you up and pulled your legs across his lap, so you straddled him. You moaned at the straining bulge in his black sweatpants, pressing down against it through your short-shorts, sucking lightly on your bottom lip.
“What are we calling your little pottery business?” You hummed, reaching between your bodies to slip into the waistband of his sweats, finding his thick manhood and gliding your hand along it, drawing out a shivering sigh out from him.
“I don't know.” He rasped, clawing at your hips and the band of your shorts, leaving red marks in their wake. “Maybe, Sy's Therapy Barn or something.” He puffed, losing focus on the idea of running a business and growing more interested in tearing your shorts and underwear off.
“I like it.” You nodded, slipping off his lap, smiling at his hands grabbing to bring you back, but stood and took your shorts and panties off, before straddling his thick thighs again. “Rolls of the tongue and easy to remember.” You told him, taking his burning shaft in your hand, stroking him firmly as you guided him towards your glistening entrance.
“Mmhm.” Sy mumbled, his mouth latching onto your collarbone. “Whatever you say, babe.”
You chuckled, caressing your free hand over his head and gripped his shoulder, using it as leverage to sink down onto him, with a soft sigh and leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.
“I love you, Syverson.”
“Ditto.” He rumbled back, wrapping his arms around you and locking you against him.
“Welcome to Sy's Therapy Barn!” You grinned as a man came through the door, the bell above it chiming through the building, his ripped muscles making the fabric of his Under Armor shirt scream, his tattooed arms showing below the short sleeves. “Are you here for the classes or to look about?” You asked, motioning around the grand shop with beaming pride.
You and Sy had found a thousand square foot warehouse, filling it with all your pottery and therapy needs and dreams. Sy had even decided to go to school and become a licensed therapist, allowing him to help the people coming into the Therapy Barn better. While they got their hands cupped around the little mounds of clay, during your classes, so they could shape it into whatever their minds wanted or needed.
Part of the warehouse was set up with kilns of all sizes and kinds, tall and wide shelves to hold pour molds and drying creations. While another section was where you and Sy held the classes for the therapy groups, either for former or active Combat Service people or, those who Sy referred to as Regulars, members of the public who hadn't served. All of them there to try and remedy their PTSD, trauma, depression, loss, domestic violence or anything else along those lines.
People that didn't require therapy were also welcome, of course.
But the two of you catered to those in need specifically, and so far, business was booming. Sy had gone to the several local Veteran Centers in the Dallas area with fliers promoting the business's program, as well as the VFW Canteens and posting on the internet. Even calling some of his old comrades. Sy had been worried and a bit skeptical with your first pottery class, sure that no one was going to show up to it. However, when the time rolled around, the bell above the front door started dinging with customers, most of them were middle aged or elderly, but there were several your and Sy's age, looking apprehensive.
It made you smile to see that look on their face, it was the exact expression you'd seen on Sy's face, that night you met in the parking lot of Mini's Pottery Barn, before he discovered the magic of forming clay. You always looked forward to seeing it change into the wonder of how amazing it is, to see your brave Captain use his fresh Bachelor's Degree to help them work through the same struggles he had. The struggles you had woken up at one or two in the morning, to find Sy in the garage, in nothing, but the shorts he'd gone to bed in, hunched over his pottery wheel, his muscles tight and teeth gritted, but his hands cupped gently around the piece of clay he was working. Trying to chase away whatever he had been awoken by.
“I'm here for the class, with Dr. Syverson.” He replied, looking around uneasily, like he expected a bomb to go off in one of the teapots you'd crafted and had on sale in the front window of the shop.
“That's great!” You grinned at him, trying to be open and encouraging towards him. “The class will start in ten minutes. You can either take a seat or have a look around. There's coffee, tea and water on the table with some cupcakes and snicker-doodle cookies, so help yourself.”
“No booze.” He mumbled, eyeing the table.
“No,” You answered, giving him an emphatic look. “Some of our potter's are recovering and sober, so we don't offer it.” You explained to him, glancing over at one of your regulars with a nod. “To repress the urge to relapse.”
He looked at you for a moment. “That's—actually, very thoughtful of you.” He said, blinking as it came over him.
“We do our best.” Sy said, appearing from the back. “Pleasure to meet ya.” He offered his hand to the other man. “Captain Syverson, 1st battalion, 3rd SFG(a). Also Dr. Austin Syverson, the co-owner of this here Therapy Barn.” He introduced himself, always giving his classifications to the Vets, knowing how at ease it made them and started that thread of a bond with him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Captain.” He replied, shaking Sy's hand. “Lieutenant Daniel Burton, 3rd recon battalion, for the Marines.”
“Well, it's good to meet you, Lieutenant.” Sy nodded, then smiled over at you, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back. “I'm sure my fiancee has given you the introduction to our business.”
“That she has.” Daniel nodded, giving you a kind smile. “Though, I'll admit, I'm a little apprehensive as to how this is going to help me get straightened out. I watched some videos on pottery on Youtube and it just doesn't seem like much.”
You and Sy looked at each other, a smile and knowing look on each other's faces.
“It seems that way. I thought the same thing, myself, at first.” Sy confessed, a winking at you. “But, all you have to do is take all your emotions. All your pain, all your love, all your passion and all your rage and work it into that bit of clay we give you on that pottery wheel and the rest comes with it.”
You looked at Sy, it had become a thing between the two of you, and in doing so, that line had become his motto. It had become part of the business's motto, and few people actually caught the reference. But that was all right. The two of you still got through to people in the end. Saving them from their dark past through horrible movie quotes, a man that took a chance on a hobby and your skill with moving clay, sculpting a life and a business out of it.
#henry cavill#henrycavill#viking-raider fics#Syverson#cpt syverson#syverson fanfiction#syverson x you#syverson x reader#captain syverson#syverson smut#syverson fluff#captain syverson x reader#Syverson/You#Syverson/Reader#Sand Castle#Fluff#Angst#Sy's Therapy Barn#Sy's Therapy Barn *Fic*
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I just want to feel safe - Walter Marshall fanfic. Part 1?
Okay. Preface. This story has mentions of sexual assault. This is a personal story. But I've changed a lot of the names and some of the actual story to fit the fic. I think that I've decided this is going to be a series. It's taken a lot out of me writing this but. I really love Walter and I can see this relationship growing into something more than what is here. I also think that from a healing standpoint, I'm gonna write the story I never gave myself the chance to have. Anyway. That's enough from me. I'll let you guys read the story now. I know this is a heavy topic and situation but I'm still always open to comments and feedback. Thank you guys for the support in posting this <3
Plot: OFC reports assault after 2 years and Detective Walter Marshall is assigned to her case. He will stop at nothing to help her feel safe again.
Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of sexual assault (retelling the story of what happened.)
Unbeta'd Mistakes are totally my own and I own that. This might be a mess because honestly I was super emotional writing this but it felt good to get it all down.
Please don't share without crediting.
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I’m not sure what I expected a police station to be like. Frankly I’d never really imagined myself in one. Kind of funny how things can change like that. All of a sudden you’re doing things you’d never imagine. That’s how I ended up here. In this strangely familiar looking police station. I guess maybe that’s the one thing movies and Tv got right. Police stations for the most part look exactly the same. This whole night started from a list of “Fuck it why not’s” that spiraled out of control. But that explanation alone was not enough to help the officer help me. I looked back at the petite woman in front of me. I’m sure she was a good police officer. I wasn't trying to doubt her skill. But her overly sympathetic nature and deer in the headlights look on her face was making me feel worse.
“I know this is hard.” She spoke softly, placing her hand over mine on the table. She didn’t know. She had no idea what this was like. Being attacked like this. Letting yourself become vulnerable because ‘why not’ I’d known those boys my entire life. When my brother invited me out for drinks with his friends, I didn’t have a reason not to trust them. Not to trust… him. My brother didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. He was betrayed too. “But I need you to tell me what you remember, what happened to you, so we can help you.” I looked around again At the empty gray walls. Out the window into the dark cloudy night sky. It must be almost midnight now. Anywhere but at the woman in front of me. What did she say her name was? Rachel? I focused on the empty desk chair behind her when I finally spoke.
“It doesn’t matter. I remember all of it. Every detail. But we have no case.” I muttered I looked down playing with my hands again.
“Alayna,” She said my name softly. I met her eyes again for the first time since we sat at her desk. “You don’t know that. You did the right thing coming here and reporting it. I need you to talk to me.” She pleaded with me. She didn’t understand.
“No,” I said again. “I do know.”
“How do you know we can’t help you?” She asked her eyes boring into mine. I know she wants to help. I know that but I just don’t see how they can. not after it’s been so long.
“There’s no evidence.” I said.
“Sweetheart, with all due respect you aren’t a police officer we may be able to find something you wouldn’t think to look…”
“It was two years ago.” Rachel paused then. She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair.
“2 years ago?” she repeated. I nodded. She let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, Why did you wait so long to tell somebody?” She asked. This felt more manageable. This I at least knew the answer for. It was logical. It made sense. Well it doesn’t really make much sense but when you’re bargaining with yourself it does.
“I didn’t think it would matter. I’m still not sure it does.” I said. I swallowed hard. Now or never Alayna. You didn’t walk 3 miles to the police station, in the cold, after a panic attack to not give yourself some kind of peace. I let out a long breath and started again but then the door of the squadroom opened. A tall figure walked in. I couldn’t make out much of him at first. Just that he was very tall, 6,1 or something and had a full beard. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and beanie. I tensed a little when I watched him walk from the entrance to the desk next to Rachel’s. He shrugged off his coat revealing a thick gray sweater. He draped his coat over his chair and pulled off his beanie. His hair was a mess of dark curls. As soft and cozy as he should have looked…Something still felt intimidating about him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d walked in the room. None of us had actually.
“Alayna,” Rachel said my name, getting my attention and finally breaking the silence. “This is detective Walter Marshall. He’s going to be working on your case.” That’s right. When I came in to report, the officer on duty at the station had to attend to a call. When I told them I wanted to report an assault, they told me that they’re psychiatrist was still in the office. I could talk to her until one of the detectives was available. I think they were afraid if they told me to come back later… I wouldn’t. They were probably right. Although I’m not quite sure if it would be because I’d lost my nerve or dying of hypothermia on the walk home. Rachel wasn’t even a detective. Was I really that out of it? Why didn’t I remember that until now?
“Okay,” was all I managed to say.
“I can stay,” she said. I'm not sure if it was for me or the detective. Maybe both. “If you’re more comfortable. If it’s easier for you. Ya know?” she asked. I shook my head and I watched as the detective…Walter, put his hand on her shoulder.
“Go home, it's been a long day,” he told her. His voice was deep but he spoke softly. And surprisingly he had an English accent. “We’ll manage,” his eyes were tired and heavy when they met mine. He offered a gentle smile. I nodded.
“You’re sure?” She asked.
“I don’t want to keep you Rachel. I can talk to the detective.” I said. She nodded.
“Okay, wait right here, just a moment while I catch him up okay? And then you two will get started.” I gave her a slight nod and just stared out the window again. Rachel and the detective went off into a side office somewhere to discuss what I’d already mentioned. This was sure to be quick now. As soon as she tells him how long it’s been, he’ll dismiss me. This was so stupid. I’d kept this to myself for this long. I knew this was a bad idea. Just as I had convinced myself to get up and leave the office door opened again.
“Thank you,” Walter’s voice said from across the room. “Get home safe.” he told Rachel as she waved goodbye. I gave her a small wave. I sat back in the chair trying to relax. But I knew I couldn’t. He came back over to the desk leaning his hip against it, crossing one foot over the other. “Are you comfortable out here or would you like to talk in my office?” He asked. “There aren’t too many people still around this late but, it would offer a bit more privacy than the open squadroom. It’s up to you.” He stated. I thought about it for a moment. Finally, I pulled my eyes from the window to look up at him.
“I think I’d feel better with a little more privacy,” I said. He gave me a sympathetic smile.
I stood up from my spot next to the desk. Then he led me out of the squadroom and down the hall to a small office. There wasn’t much, just a large desk with nothing but a computer and a travel coffee mug on it. The walls were bare other than a standard wall clock. He motioned for me to take a
seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he shut the door behind us. He circled around to the other side of the desk, setting a file down and taking a seat across from me.
“You’re reporting an assault, is that right?” He asked. I nodded.
“Yes, not a recent one. I’m sure Rachel informed you.” I said. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was wasting his time. Detective Marshall’s eyes met mine. I didn’t find the same overly sympathetic look in his eyes like I did with Rachel. He wasn’t pitying me. He wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze me. At the same time, it wasn’t cruel or harsh. Not even annoyed. Just open.
“She did,” he spoke after a brief pause. “But I’d like to hear the information from you myself. If that's alright with you?” He questioned. I swallowed hard. I leaned forward and folded my hands on the desk.
“I can do that.” My voice shook when I spoke. “Will I need to write a witness statement too?” I asked him. Telling this story once was going to be hard enough. Seeing it written on paper was going to be gut wrenching.
“Let’s just get through this conversation first. We’ll talk about the rest later, "he said. I nodded. He sat with his forearms leaning on the desk and his hands folded together. He pursed his lips into a tight small smile and nodded toward me. “Whenever you’re ready.” He stated. I swallowed hard. Of course it didn’t necessarily mean that. It was after midnight now. This guy probably wanted to get home. I had to get this out.
“November 12th, or well 13th I guess. It was around 1:30 or 2am so the 13th. My brother, his friends and I had gone out for his birthday. It wasn’t his birthday though, we had to wait until the weekend to celebrate because it fell during the week.” I was rambling. He needed details. I need to stop rambling. “Uh anyway, We were at a bar, earlier that night on the 12th, but I got kind of tired. The boys were picking on me for being a lightweight and leaving early. I left the bar at 11, got home at like 11:15. I went right to bed. I was really tired. The boys were all gonna come back to the house when they were done at the bar. I woke up to the bedroom door bursting open at like 1 am and someone yelling my name. I screamed. It was my brother's friend. Um.” I paused for a second, starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I have to describe it exactly? What did I have to say? But Walter spoke, easing the tension a bit.
“And what’s his name?” He asked me.
“His name is Justin, uh Justin Veach.” I responded. Walter nodded for me to continue as he wrote a note in his folder. He put the pen down and looked up at me again letting me know he was listening.
“Uh He said, ‘It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it's just me! We’re back, come hang out with us!’ Then he came over to my bed and kissed my face which was weird but he was an affectionate guy and well they were still drunk. I didn’t think much of it. He’d known me since I was a baby. He and my brother had been best friends since kindergarten. They were ten years older than me and he watched me grow up.” I shuttered a little thinking about it. “Um so after that he left. After telling me to come down stairs to talk with them again. And I did. We sat in the kitchen. I just sat there sleepy and confused. The boys were talking and eating drunk snacks or whatever,” I kind of chuckled a little. “It was nice. But we were talking about how it’s so funny that I’m old enough to go drink with them now. And Justin kept making these comments about remembering when I was born and that I was such a beautiful baby. It seemed so weird. But looking back. He knew. He knew what he was planning on doing…. We all said we were gonna go to bed. Blake, my brother, told Justin he could sleep on the couch or they could share his bed or whatever. But Justin was coming up the stairs with us and he said ‘I wanna cuddle’ to me, and he was still drunk and I thought he was joking so I laughed it off and said ‘yeah sure’ I let him lay in my bed. But I put myself on the inside. I thought he was just gonna lay there a minute and like it would be a joke. Blake did too. He asked if I was okay before he went to his room. Because he was still kinda drunk and ready to crash. I said. I was. But Justin didn’t just lay there. He took off his pants before he got into the bed so he was just in boxers and his shirt. And,”
I was shaking. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was gonna cry. I didn’t know this man. He was surely annoyed by me and. God he probably thought I was lying. That’s what Justin would tell him. When he confronts him. That I’m lying. Or maybe that's what I wanted. This was so stupid I shouldn’t have come here. I swallowed hard again. I looked back up at walter. I could feel the tears in my eyes.
“Take your time.” He said softly. “Is this when he hurt you?” He asked.
“I can’t,” my voice was trembling now. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, I can’t do this.” I sobbed. I stood up to leave his office. Walter stood and walked to the other side of the desk gently reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, I know that. I wasted your time detective. I’m so sorry.”
“Hold on,” Walter’s voice was low. “Sit back down, and breathe for a moment. If anything else I can’t let you walk out of here and drive home in this state.” I looked at his face. He was concerned. Worried about me. About my safety. I sat back down in the chair. I took a deep breath trying to compose myself again. But I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “It’s okay, You’re safe in here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you Alayna.” Detective Marshall said, crouching down in front of me to meet my eyes again. I nodded. “Do you think you can keep going?” he asked. I nodded again. He stood and leaned on the edge of his desk. His proximity seemed to help keep my calm. I don’t know what was so different between him and talking with Rachel. But when he said he could help, I believed him. Maybe it was the sheer size of this man. Or the gun on his hip. Or maybe there was something in his aura or some other bullshit I didn’t understand that was protective and made me trust him. Fuck maybe I’d gone to far to turn back now and I was too emotionally exhausted not to lean on anyone who would listen. Whatever it was, I continued.
“At first I was just laying next to him. Like I was saying, I thought it was a joke. But he wrapped his arm around me to make me cuddle him.. I guess. He started rubbing my back. I froze up. I started to recognize that his hand was lingering where it shouldn’t but I couldn’t say anything. And this guy he’s .. he’s huge. I mean like 6 foot and like 400 lbs when he rolled over on to me and started touching me I felt paralyzed I couldn’t move but… I couldn’t have pushed him off if I’d tried. I just felt hopeless. That’s when everything happened.” I sniffled softly. I hiccuuped catching my breath. “It was like I was outside of myself watching it all happen…I .. I don’t know if that makes sense? But I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was lay there. I don’t remember if I said no. But,
“You didn’t consent. That’s no. This was not your fault. You’ve already tried to blame yourself. It’s a really common thing, unfortunately, that you can’t react. But that doesn’t mean that you let it happen. Or that you wanted it to happen.” Walter said softly. I nodded at the ground.
“Afterward he, he fell asleep and I showered, I had to get rid of the feeling of him. I slept on the couch, Well I tried to. The next morning he was came down and sat with all of us like nothing had happened. I had mentioned that my back had hurt the night before. And he moved closer to me and rubbed it for me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t react…again. I just. I don’t know. All I could think was, I didn’t wanna start anything. But I also couldn’t make sense of what happened. When he left I changed the sheets. I threw them away actually. My clothes were washed. But eventually I couldn’t look at them anymore. I threw them away too.”
“Why do you think it took you so long to say anything?” Walter asked me.
“I wasn’t even sure it happened. I wasn’t sure I could call it what it was. I mean he was drunk, I just… Just laid there. It took me over a week to tell my best friend. But It took almost 4 months after talking it out with her and one of my other friends for me to face it and call it what it was. But I still can’t say it.”
“And why are you here now? What made you report it?” He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. This has been eating at me so long but. This month. This 2 year “anniversary.” If you could call it that. Has been terrorizing me.
“It’s all I could think about the last couple of weeks. I started having nightmares. Seeing him in my dreams. Before when I dreamt about it, I always got away. Someone always stopped him. But now. Now I’m trapped all overagain. It happened in my childhood home. In the room I grew up in. I’ve moved out since then. I live alone. He doesn’t even live in that town anymore. He lives 3 hours away from me. The chances that I’ll run into him are slim. And I don’t have any
reminders of it anymore. But Sometimes if I wake up and I’m laying next to the wall it sends me into a panic. If I see someone with a similar body type or with a similar voice it shut down. He’s over a 100 miles away. But I don’t feel safe. I’m losing my mind! I’m getting up to check the lock on the door like 10 times before I can go to sleep. What if he just walks in like he did then. He doesn’t even know where I live. But I’ve never confronted him. And he has a wife! And Kids. He did when he did this to me. I can’t get over that. She needs to know but … I don’t, I don’t know what to do! That’s why I’m here, I had another panic attack, I didn’t trust myself to drive. So I walked. ” I was in tears again. He must think I’m so weak. So stupid. What an idiotic thing to do.
“I understand, and first I want to say, I’m sorry that you went had to experience that. It’s a good you were able to tell your friends, but you were seemingly dealing with this alone for a long time. I’m sure that’s taken a toll on you. The next thing I need to ask you, is what you want to do now that you’ve told me.” I took in his words. He was right. This has been so heavy. And I’ve carried it alone for so long. But now that I’m here I never thought there would be options.
“What can we even do? It’s been so long?” I asked.
“Not too long though, if you want to press charges, and see him convited for this, that’s still on the table. If that’s what you want to do then yes, I do need you to write a witness statement. There will be a lot of other legal things that need to be done and signed. Then we can start an investigation. I know you think there isn’t anything here. But well do you trust me?” He asked. Did I? I didn’t know him. But Rachel seemed to. And he had his own office. That must mean he’s some high status detective right? And there was just something about him. Why did he feel so safe. It wasn’t the gun. It was. It was him. I did trust him.
“I do,” I spoke finally.
“I’ve put people away, on much less than what you’ve given me tonight.” He said. That felt good. To know he could lose everything. Like he made me lose my sense of security. But then my stomach dropped.
“W-would I have to see him?” I asked meekly.
“In court yes, possibly in a line up. But definitely in court. We would need your testimoney,”
“I- I don’t know if I can do that, I don’t know if I can face him.” I shook again.
“There will be officers in the court. You won’t be near him. He won’t be able to get to you.”
“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly.
“If you’d like, yes, I can be there.” He said giving me a soft smile.
“Can I think about it?” I asked meeting his eyes again.
“Of course,” He stood and walked back to the other side of his desk. “It’s been a long night emotionally for you, if you’re ready tomorrow to make a decision you can come back in the morning.” He said typing a something quickly on his computer. “If you’ll wait just a few minutes I can gladly give you a ride home. It’s far too cold for you to walk, even it’s a block away.” He offered. I nodded.
“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s, well its actually 3 miles.” I stated biting my lip awkwardly. He let out a soft chuckle and smiled.
“Well, I surely can’t let you walk that far this late. I’ll get you home safe.” He said. He finished typing whatever it was he was doing on his computer. Then he locked the file in his desk. He stood and gestured for me to lead out of the office. He turned the light off and locked it behind him. Oh God I’d kept him after his shift.
“I’m sorry for keeping you,”
“Oh, no don’t appologize, this is common practice for me. This is honestly the earliest I’ve left in weeks.” He said as we walked back to the squadroom. He grabbed his coat from the desk chair. “Do you have everything?” He asked. I nodded.
He led us out of the station and to his truck in the parking lot. Once we were settled in, I gave him my address so he could drive me home. I watched out the window as he drove down the familiar streets. The drive was silent. The closer we got the more I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Back home. Back home to be alone again. I was so scared. What if he knew where I lived. I didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t long before the detective was pulling up in front of my building.
“Thank you,” I spoke breaking the silence for the first time since we’d left the police station.
“Of course,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a business card. “Take the night and decide what you’d like to do.” He said and then handed me the card. “That’s my cellphone number. If there’s anything else you need call…”
“Would you come in?” I cringed the second the words left my mouth.
“I, I can search the place, If you’d like. If it would make you more comfortable.” He offered.
“I mean, could you…” I can’t believe I was asking this, “Stay?” the word came out barely above a whisper. I sighed. I turned toward the window squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m sorry that was stupid, You probably have a wife, and a family to get home to. That was so inconsiderate. I just. I was afraid and I… I’ll just go.” I opened the door.
“You don’t feel safe, do you?” He asked. I paused and shook my head. I didn’t. I hadn’t for weeks. But I couldn’t ask this guy to give up his time for me.
“I don’t but, It’s okay. It’s just that there’s only one deadbolt lock on the door. And I don’t know sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. And I can’t seem to get any sleep. But that’s not up to you. I have to figure this out. You’ve done so much to help me already detective.” I rambled. Walter let out a long breath.
“You’ve got a lot on your mind right now and a lot to consider.” He said. “I’m sure the lack of sleep isn’t helping at all, You could use a good nights rest.” He stated.
“But it’s not you’re responsibility and I don’t want to take you away from your family.” I said.
“I, well I live alone actually.” He bit his lip awkwardly “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? I’ve got some work to catch up on anyway. I probably won’t be getting much sleep. You wouldnt’t be putting me out.”
“Are you sure?” I asked raising an eyebrow. I’d given this poor guy enough trouble. And he was being so kind. Walter nodded. Honestly. The way I was feeling I didn’t have the energy to consider it any longer. I shut the door and walter put the truck in drive.
It was almost 2 am when we walked into his house.
“I can just sleep on the couch I, I really don’t want to be any trouble.”
“You aren’t,” He assured me. “And please, you can sleep in the bedroom, I rarely sleep there anyway. It’d be nice to know someones getting use out of it.” He smiled. I nodded and he showed me to the room and left me to get comfortable. He said he’d be down stairs likely working in his office if I needed anything. I took in the room everything seemed to be a dark navy color the comforter, the curtains the sheets. I chuckled to myself. That made sense for him.
I slipped off my shoes and slid under the covers. This should feel strange. And it did. But I was safe. And I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I let that feeling take over as I tried to fall asleep. But my mind started to wander again. What if he found out I reported it. What would happen. Or What would he do when they arrested him. What would he say about me. Would he say I wanted it. Tell them I didn’t push them away. Try to convince them that I was lying somehow? He was good at that. And he had a friend from college that was a lawyer. Surely he already had a story. Maybe he’d been prepared since it had happened. I started to shake again. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear the footsteps up the stairs. I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even realize that I’d started to cry again until I noticed he was next to me saying my name.
“Alayna. Alayna. It’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.” He soothed.
“I can’t, I can’t… what if he tries to come after me. What if.. What if he tells them… what if tries to tell them I wanted him to…I don’t think I can do this.” I sobbed. Walter wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“He can’t get to you. We’ll be sure of that. All that matters, is that you’ve told us the truth. As long as you have, and as long as you confirm that in court. No matter what he says or what anyone believes, it won’t matter. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe again. I think the only way we can do that. Is to put this guy away. I’m not gonna stop until we do. I won’t let him hurt you again.” He said. Pulling me closer to him.
“Do you have a sister?” I asked after a brief pause sniffling softly.
“No,” He shook his head and leaning back against the headboard letting me rest my head against his shoulder. “But I have a daughter.” He said.
“Is that why you do what you do?” I asked. He smiled. But he was quite for a moment.
“Not at first. When I was younger and I first started out, it was just something that I liked. Something I was good at. But when my exwife and I had our daughter, a lot of that changed. It became personal. To an unhealthy point honestly.” He chuckled at himself. “I guess to my own detriment.”
“Is that why you’re still working even though you clocked out hours ago? You could use some good sleep too detective.” I stated. Starting to relax.
“I haven’t slept well in ages,” He said. “Focusing on the job, oddly enough, keeps my mind off everything else. There are some horrible people in this world. I don’t have to explain that to you. I get so in my own head about how, it could be her. If I spend anymore time considering the what ifs I’d keep her locked in a tower,” He chuckled.
“I understand that. But surely, If she was raised by you, she’s a smart girl. But.. well I guess,” I sighed. “Nevermind.” Walter squeezed my shoulder softly.
“Thank you, I know what you mean.” He smiled sympathetically.
“I’m going to do it.” I said suddenly. “Press charges, I mean. You’re right. Knowing can still get to me. Knowing he’s out there. That’s what’s causing me all this stress and …I can’t keep going on like this.” I stated.
“I can take you back to the station tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Walter?” I asked nervously biting my lip.
“Yeah?”
“Will you stay here? I don’t know what it is I just feel.. Safer when you’re here.” I blushed softly. Walter adjusted so that he was lying on the bed. I moved and laid my head on the pillow.
“Get some sleep darling. I’ll be right here.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!
Tag list: @summersong69 @carrie80reads @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007 @alwayzmsbehavn @toooldforobsessions@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @henryownsme @identity2212
Part 2:
#henry cavill#captain syverson x ofc#fanfiction#captain syverson#august walker#henry cavil x reader#august walker fanfiction#fanfic writing#walter marshall fluff#walter marshall#walter marshall x reader#walter marshall fanfiction#walter marshal x ofc#night hunter#night hunter fanfiction#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill characters#henry cavill fluff#angst#henry cavill angst#walter marshall angst#henry cavill hurt/comfort#henry cavill smut#captain syverson smut#coach sy#henry cavill fanfic#mike hellraiser#august walker smut#henry cavill x ofc
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❤︎ Lemon Over Ice
Pairing: Bartender!Captain Syverson x f!Reader
Summary: Sy just wants to adore you.
Warnings: A little angst, a little fluff, some allusions to violence, alcohol consumption.
A/N: This one is inspired by Adore You by my sweet sweet man Harry. It’s a little rough around the edges but I’m just playing around right now. I hope you’re having a nice day 🧡
//
It was packed and loud at the Drink & Jive, like on every other Friday night. Sy was behind the bar like always, drawing beer on tap and pouring whiskey and Jäger shots. His usual customers did not really expect much when it came to liquor, as long as it was cold and cheap.
“Drink & Jive” what a ridiculous name, she had never liked it but right now it seemed especially obnoxious to her. The flickering neon sign in the door declaring to the world that the bar was open. When she came in someone was playing Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen on the old juke box in the back. Which almost made her snort at the irony. “I’m having a good time.” Yeah, right.
Slamming her card down on the counter she made eye contact with the burly man behind the bar when she told him to “Make something sweet and strong,” and to “Keep the tap open.” He slung the dishtowel, he had been using to wipe down the counter, over his left shoulder raising an eyebrow, because she usually just ordered a glass of wine and home fries; but he said nothing.
Her pink wide-legged pants were wet from the bottom up, and the rain had made a mess of her probably once neatly tied-up hair. The colour of the bright strawberry red lipstick looked far too joyful compared to her facial expression. If it wasn’t for the rain he maybe would have thought that she had cried before she came in. The spark that she usually had in her eyes was gone and the wanted to punch whoever was responsible for that right in the face.
She watched him cut and squeeze a lemon, pour simple syrup and Tanqueray. Ice and a lemon slice in a glass. Pouring the contents of the cocktail shaker over it and topping it off with some club soda. His hands were surprisingly delicate for their size. Thick dark hair and dark tattoos peeking out from under the rolled-up sleeves of his plaid shirt. She always liked watching him work, but today it was more a desperate attempt to distract herself from what had just happened.
“Gin Fizz. It’s sweet but still classy.” When they first made eye contact that day it was intense. His stormy blue eyes, keeping her gaze captive, and yet she didn’t feel the unsettling feeling of dread that creeps up your back and spreads between your ribs when a man is staring at you and makes you feel unsafe without even saying a word. It felt nice and warm.
Vodka shots and the bowl of sesame pretzel sticks he put in front of her and she ate, even though she told him she wasn’t hungry. She knew they must have been from his personal stash because he brought them from the back and usually the bar only served salted peanuts.
When there was finally a short break between orders he casually leaned back against the counter behind him, crossing his arms over his chest, which made him look even bigger, if that was even possible. “So, what happened?”
“I’ve been stood up. I was sitting there at that pretentious whatever fusion restaurant down the street, which he picked. And I drank chardonnay after chardonnay until I finally accepted the reality that he wasn’t going to come anymore and had to get out of there. The way the waitress was looking at me, like she knew exactly what had happened made it even worse.”
He wanted to touch her. His fingers along her cheek, his hand on hers. Because he’s never been good with words and touch was the only way he could think of making her feel better. She didn’t deserve feeling like this, unwanted. Because he wanted her. With all his being and yet he only ever saw her when she came into the dimly lit bar, sat down at the counter, and after the first glass of wine started talking about the third graders she was teaching, what she had bought at the farmers market and her friends’ horrible Tinder dates.
“You know Sy, you’re the only stable male presence in my life. I can always count on you being here and you always listen to me and you're always nice to me.” At this point, her speech was a little slurred but he could tell she was being sincere. That was the last drop in the bucket that gave him the courage to do what he did next. He pushed himself off the counter and took her hands into his. “You should let me take you out. I will show you how you should be treated if you let me. I would never stand you up.”
She just sat there and looked at him, with her mouth slightly agape for a few seconds, and then the first real shy little smile of the night spread across her face. Then he could see her wavering again. “But I don’t want you to do this out of pity.” He dipped his head down a little to be at eye level with her and looked directly into her eyes. “Listen to me. You are the nicest, most genuine, sweetest person I know. I’ve liked you ever since the first time you came in here and sat down on that chair. I would be honoured to take you out.”
Apparently, she believed him because she turned her hands in his, palm up and squeezed back. “Okay, Captain. I'll let you take me out.”
#captain syverson x reader#syverson x reader#captain syverson fic#captain syverson fluff#bartender!captain syverson#bartender captain syverson#fluff#angst#livingbreathingdreams#f!reader
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Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌
೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑
𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥
𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭
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𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚
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#imyourbratzdollwork#imyourbratzdollmasterlist#henry cavill x y/n#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill#henry cavill characters#henry cavill x female reader#henry cavill one shot#henry cavill imagine#clark kent imagine#clark kent x you#clark kent x reader#clark kent#clark kent angst#clark kent x y/n#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes fanfiction#captain sy fanfiction#captain syverson#august walker#geralt of rivia#august walker fanfiction#geralt fanfic
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II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy
Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)
Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?
Read at your own risk. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N: This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Previous part here
-----------------
May 2024
“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”
When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.
“Butter-”
You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.
—---
Get out (LEAVE!)
Right now
It’s the end of you and me
It’s too late (NOW!)
And I can’t wait
For you to be gone…
Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.
“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”
You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.
How could everything still hurt this much?
Carla wasn’t having it.
“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”
Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.
You sighed.
“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.
“I just… Can’t…”
“So what just happened?”
Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.
“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”
“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”
Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.
“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”
“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”
You interrupted Carla.
“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”
“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”
You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.
But why? And what did it matter now?
“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”
“I don’t have to do-”
Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:
“Teen drinking is very bad.”
Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:
“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”
The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.
One, here comes the two to the three to the four
Everybody drunk out on the dance floor
Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more
Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...
…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.
This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.
—-----
Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance.
Tonight was the night.
And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.
When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.
Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.
He wanted to fight with you.
And he wanted to make it up to you.
His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.
—---
You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.
I'd sure hate to break down here
Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror
Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin'
I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin'
So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow
Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now
You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.
Just like it did 20 years earlier.
—---
May 2004
On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,
“You look amazing.”
You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.
Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.
You were caught up.
Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.
In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.
And Sy was right there with you.
“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.”
He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.
“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”
Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.
You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.
“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”
You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.
“You’re right.”
Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you.
“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”
You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.
“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”
You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear.
Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.
“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”
You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.
“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”
You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.
You gasped.
“Sy!”
You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.
Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife.
“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”
Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together.
You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him.
“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.”
That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.
Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.
“What are you doing Sy….?”
All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.
“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.”
He kissed your hand again.
“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.”
Those eyes held you in a trance.
“But one day, we won't be.”
“Oh, Sy…”
“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”
And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.
—-
May 2024
I made it this far without cryin' a single tear
An' I'd sure hate to break down here
Oh, no
It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say.
Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.
Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.
“You still wanna talk, Sy?”
Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke.
“Ye– yeah.”
Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.
You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco.
But he didn’t let go of your hand.
You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.
“So where we goin’, Sy?”
Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man.
This huge, handsome, hairy man.
“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”
What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.
Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.
“Hm.”
Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go.
And he didn’t.
“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”
Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.
But you were grown now.
And so was Sy.
Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.
“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”
“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”
Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.
“I bet she missed you.”
Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Sy.”
Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now.
“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.”
Your cheeks heated at the compliment.
“Ok, Captain.”
Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you.
He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.
When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.
Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.
—---
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And So Much More...
Summary: After a disappointing date, your best friend's older brother picks you up to take you home.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 11.2k
Warnings: Smut, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, angst and some fluff.
Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @amberangel112 (also a brilliant title fairy) and @henryobsessed . You two always give me the confidence to keep going. Also special mention to @nashibirne , your thoughtful and honest comments really made me think, thank you so much. And finally to @radiantheartbeat for encouraging me to write this.
I used three prompts for inspiration for this story. Thank you for sending them in and I hope you enjoy what I came up with.
Prompt 1, Prompt 2, Prompt 3
Divider made by me.
Masterlist
As if on autopilot, you take a couple of quarters out of your purse and drop them into the slot. You press the numbers with the same level of thought and dial home. It takes a moment to connect and you sniff a little, clear your throat and pray that your best friend and roommate is home. The sound of your coins dropping into the payphone signals a successful connection, followed swiftly by the robotic series of notes that imitate the sound of an old telephone ringing.
You sigh, and fidget, dancing from foot to foot, pulling at your low cut, black satin top and drawing your faux fur lined coat closed.
“Shit,” you utter under your breath. Caroline must have gone out. You’re about to hang up when you hear the click and thunk of the line successfully connecting.
Music and voices burst from the receiver and you jerk your head away from the speaker.
“Hello,” you say cautiously, worried you may have dialled the wrong number in your numb stupor. “Caroline?”
“Hello?” says the voice. You exhale a held breath with relief as you recognise Caroline's voice. At least you had called the right number. “Hello, I can barely hear you.”
Even though it’s uncomfortable, you press the speaker to your ear and cup the receiver around your hand and speak loudly, looking around cautiously at the other people using the bank of telephones.
“Caroline. It’s me!” you say loudly, just shy of shouting.
“Hang on, I’ll grab the other line in my bedroom.”
It takes Caroline a few moments and you dig into your purse, pulling out another quarter and dropping it into the slot. You hear her pick up the other line and she shouts something out and the call becomes blessedly quiet.
“Hey,” she says a little breathlessly, “you there? What happened to your date?”
“I ended it early. It sucked Caroline,” you sigh, “Do you think you could come and pick me up. I stupidly agreed to let him drive me.”
“Ah, shit I can’t,” she says, “My brother and some of his friends came over and, well, we’ve all been drinkin’.”
It wasn’t unusual for her to have people over on the weekends, she was a bit of a party animal. In a way you were a perfect pair, you tempered her most crazy instincts and she brought you out of your shell. But right now, going home to her brother Sy and all his meathead friends was not what you had in mind. Especially not Sy.
“Fuck,” you mutter, “Sy’s there?”
“Yeah,” she says, “hang on, he drove here. He hasn’t drunk much I don’t think. Maybe he can pick you up. Let me ask him.”
“No, no, no,” you say quickly, “I’ll call a cab.”
But it’s too late, you can hear Caroline shouting for him and after an extended pause you can hear her relaying your request.
“Hey, Sugar,” Sy’s rich drawl echoes down the line and you bite your lip.
“Hey, Sy,” you say shyly.
God, you hate that you aren’t completely over the crush you had on him in high school. You’re mostly over it; you don’t obsess over him like you did as a teen, but sometimes those old feelings rear their head again at the most inconvenient times.
“Need a rescue, huh?” he teases.
You smile, he likes to rag on you sometimes and you give it back, usually. You aren’t in the mood to reciprocate, but you appreciate his efforts. You almost tell him no, that you’ll just catch a cab despite the expense, you don’t want to put him out. But you also know Sy, if he didn’t want to help you, he wouldn’t have offered.
“Please?” you ask.
“Anytime, Sugar,” he says, warmly, “Now, where are ya?”
You see Sy’s blue truck about twenty minutes later. He pulls up in front of you, rolls the window down and grins.
“Hey, baby. How much?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you obscenely.
You shake your head and suppress a smile. Less than a second in his presence and he makes you want to laugh. Why can’t any of the guys you date make you feel like he does?
“You can’t afford me,” you scoff.
He chuckles as he leans across the passenger seat and opens the door for you. You climb in, the truck is so high you have to stand on the side step then bend at the waist so you don't hit your head. Your top is so low, you are worried about flashing your tits at Sy with your body at this angle. You quickly glance at him and he’s already turning his head away. Feeling a little embarrassed, a ripple of heat works its way down your spine and you tug at the edge of your top to keep it from revealing too much.
Sy taps the wheel in time to the barely audible rock playing through the stereo and waits until you’re settled before driving away from the curb.
“Thanks for picking me up, Sy,” you say.
“Like I said, anytime.” He glances at you and you smile back, but he narrows his eyes. “You ok?”
You shrug. “I guess.”
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks in that soft tone he has when he’s serious.
You sigh. You consider laying it all out for him, telling him about how frustrated you are. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve unloaded your problems on him. But these problems were different, they were… a little too personal.
“I’m ok,” you lie.
Sy grunts. He knows you well enough to see that you’re not telling him the truth, but he accepts that you don’t want to talk.
You travel for a few minutes in silence and your date replays over in your mind. There was nothing wrong with it really. It had been a good evening, he had been nice, funny, and he was attractive. But when he kissed you during the movie, you had felt nothing. Not a tingle. Not a skipped heart beat. Not a single butterfly. You knew then and there, the relationship was going to go nowhere.
You had tried to be with guys you didn’t feel a spark with before, thinking that over time things would get better, but it never did. As soon as the movie was finished and you made your way back to his car, you told him you weren’t interested. He took it well; he wasn’t a dick about it and still wanted to drive you home. You refused, telling him Caroline was on her way to come and get you.
Sy stops at a set of traffic lights and placing the calloused edge of his finger under your chin, he turns your face to his. You inhale sharply at the contact. It's not fair that one touch from Sy makes you feel more than any guy you have ever dated. His lips tighten into a tight line as he looks you over.
“He didn’t hurt ya did he?” he asks in a voice that's as sharp as a knife’s edge.
“No, Sy,” you reply, placing your hand on his wrist and pushing it aside gently.
“Something happened,” Sy persists, “you look like you’re about to cry.”
“It’s not about him,” you say softly.
Sy looks at you for a long time, his lower lip sucked into his mouth as he studied you. You make yourself meet his gaze so he knows you’re telling the truth. The lights change and he inhales deeply through his nose before he turns his attention back to the road.
When Sy pulls up at your place, you see the number of cars and realise Caroline had invited more than just a few of Sy’s friends over. Your house was pumping with music and there were cars everywhere.
“God damn it, Caroline,” you mutter.
Normally it wouldn’t bother you that there were people over, but tonight, you just couldn’t face it. Sy takes his seatbelt off and is about to open his door but you put your hand on his arm to stop him.
“Sy, can we… Can we just sit here a moment? I don’t want to go in yet.”
“Okay,” he says slowly, leaning back into his seat. He looks down at his hands, notices something and rubs at the skin of his thumb.
You close your eyes and lean against the headrest. Your mind is buzzing with thoughts, but they seem to fly through your head so quickly you can’t pin them down. Well except for one.
You’re going to end up alone.
“Fuck,” you mumble as you angrily wipe at a tear that runs down your cheek.
“That’s it! You tell me what that mother fucker did to you and…”
“He didn’t do anything, Sy,” you say tersely. “I ended it, he was good about it… I just…” your chin trembles and you look away as more tears spill from your eyes.
“Oh hell,” Sy mumbles and he unfastens your belt and wraps his arms around you.
You cry harder as he presses you to his chest. You can’t stop. Each sob rips through you; your throat aches, your chest feels like it's going to burst through your ribs while your shoulders and stomach cramp awfully.
Sy lays the palm of his hand flat on your back and rubs big circles over you while he gently rocks you. No wonder you always had a crush on him; no man has ever made you feel as safe as Sy does. He drops his head low so his voice rumbles in your ear, “You’re good, baby, I’ve got you.”
You don’t know how long you cried for. By the time you stop crying, you feel a little silly, like you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. So this guy isn’t the one, what's the big deal really? There’s plenty of others out there. It's not like he dumped you, it was your decision after all.
Sy doesn’t stop holding you even when you start to sniffle and your eyes run dry. You lift your head from Sy’s shoulder and although he relaxes his embrace, he doesn’t let you go.
“I’m sorry, Sy.”
“Don’t be,” he reassures you, “Sometimes we’ve just gotta let it all out.”
“Can’t imagine you ever having a cry like that.”
“No, but you should see me trying to murder the punching bag during PT,” he grins.
You don’t think he means to put the thought of him shirtless, dripping with sweat, lip curled in anger and grunting as he takes his frustrations out on the leather bag, but it doesn’t stop the vivid image from being thrust into the forefront of your mind.
“Do you want to go inside yet?” Sy asks softly, “We don’t have to, we could go get a bite to eat if you need more time. I’ll give Carol a call when we get there and tell her to kick everyone out if ya want?”
“No, I don't want to ruin everyone’s good time because I had a shitty night.”
“Just wanna ruin mine, huh?”
“Sy…” you half whine and half laugh.
“How about we go eat then come back?” he suggests.
“I think I should just go to sleep. I’ll feel better in the morning. Just give me another minute.”
Sy is quiet for a moment then says, “I’ll take ya to my place. You ain’t gonna be able to sleep with all that going on. You can stay the night.”
“Sy thats sweet of you, but I don’t want to sleep in these clothes and your friends are all inside and—”
“My friend,” he says firmly, giving you a squeeze, “is right here. And you can borrow some of my clothes.” He finally lets you go and says, “C’mon, put your belt on. I ain’t takin’ no for an answer.”
It feels a little strange being in Sy’s apartment. It had been a while since you had been to his place. Years in fact. He’d been gone for so long, first to boot camp and other training, then later officer training and finally Special Forces selection and several deployments.
He was always in and out of your life and in a way you were glad. Because he wasn’t around to moon over all the time, it had made moving on from your silly crush easier. Plus, being reacquainted with him over the last few years had let your friendship develop beyond him being just your best friend's older brother and a guy to lust over. You got to know him, the real him and you valued his friendship.
Still, there were boundaries despite how close you two had become and being alone with him in his home wasn’t one you had crossed yet.
After placing your bag on a rack by the door, you take your heels off while Sy disappears into what you assume is his bedroom. He comes back a few moments later with an AC/DC t-shirt and some sweatpants.
“Do you wanna take a shower or anything?” he asks as he hands you his clothes.
You consider it for a minute, but decide you can wait until the morning. “No, I'll just wash my make-up off.” Sy nods and leads you to the bathroom and gives you a towel to dry your face with.
After you wash you assess the damage the crying had done. Your mascara and eyeliner are waterproof, so they’re mostly in place, but your eyes are puffy and lined with red. You know it's only going to be worse tomorrow, but there really isn’t anything you can do about it now. You dress in Sy’s clothes, and you pull the drawstring of the sweats tight so they don’t fall as you walk and you roll the bottoms up too so you don't trip.
You take one last look in the mirror and sigh. You feel a little pathetic. You should have just gone home. Now you’re stuck at Sy’s place wearing his freaking clothes for God’s sake. You almost laugh at the irony of it all; a few years ago you would probably have killed to be in this position and now that you had gotten over your crush (mostly), here you are. You’re older now, realistic, you know nothing is ever going to happen between you and Sy. If it was, it would have already happened.
You wipe under your eyes again and you recognise that you're stalling. You can’t put it off any longer, so, taking a final deep breath, you go back to Sy.
When you come out, you ask him for something to put your clothes in. He goes to his kitchen and returns carrying a small plastic bag. He holds it open for you while you carefully place your jeans and top inside.
“I called Caroline and let her know you’re stayin’ here so she won’t worry,” Sy says, hanging your clothes on the rack next to your bag.
“Thanks,” you say. “Is she ok with me staying here?”
“She’s a little worried about what happened to you, so expect an interrogation in the mornin’,” he says, rolling his eyes.
You half smile. That's not quite what you were asking but you decide not to question his response. “Of course.”
“Are you ready for bed?” he asks. “You can have my bed, I’ll take the couch. Okay?”
You nod, you know you should argue with him, insist on taking the couch, but you know Sy, he won’t change his mind. “Thanks, Sy.”
He dips his head, acknowledging your thanks then just keeps looking at you with a small smile on his face. You return his smile weakly, then turn towards his room.
“Come ‘ere,” he says with a soft growl, and he grabs at your t-shirt, drawing you into his arms.
You can’t say how many times Sy’s hugged you like this, too many times. And like all the other times you're overwhelmed by him, by his size, his warmth, his strength, his scent and you melt into his embrace. He cups the back of your head, tilting it until you’re looking down and kisses you on the crown.
“Baby?” he murmurs into your ear.
“Yeah?” God, your voice is so hoarse you barely recognise it.
You hear him take a breath like he’s about to speak but then he exhales and swallows before speaking.
“You gonna be okay?” he asks in that low soothing tone he’s used all night. You nod and he lets you go. “You need anythin’, I’ll be here. Gonna stay up and watch some TV for a bit.”
You nod again and go to bed.
Sleep is elusive; you toss and turn. Sy’s bed is comfortable, and you’re mentally exhausted, but you just can’t relax. Not only are you caught up in replaying the disappointing kiss in the movie theatre, you can’t stop thinking about Sy. Surrounded by his covers, engulfed in his scent, you can’t help but remember the warmth of his body and the pleasant weight of his arms as he holds you.
It annoys you, frustrates you, and makes your heart ache. You remind yourself that you’re escaping into old fantasies, equating the feelings of your unrequited crush to your current sense of loneliness. You know you’re only thinking about Sy like this because of what happened on your date. Your romantic feelings toward Sy aren’t real, they aren’t based in anything tangible and are not reciprocated. You're his little sister’s best friend, of course he’d be nice to you tonight like he always was. It didn’t mean anything.
Eventually you get up. You’re just going to get a drink of water before trying to go to sleep again. You won’t disturb Sy, you’ll just quietly go through the family room to the kitchen and you’ll have your drink before going back to bed. That's it.
The TV is on with the volume turned down low. Sy is shirtless on the couch, he’s too big for it and his feet hang over the armrest, barely covered by the blanket he has over his legs. He has one arm raised and bent behind his head and the other is below the cover. Your eyes widen and heat floods your cheeks as you think of what else is under there.
Shit.
You turn back to Sy’s room; it’s fine, you don't really need a drink. But before you can take a step, you hear his voice, “Sugar?”
Shit.
You turn back and see moving into a seated position, pulling the blankets up with him.
“Can't sleep?” he asks. You shake your head. He gives you a sympathetic smile, “Me neither.”
You nod and look around the room, trying not to stare too long at Sy’s chest. He’s always had an amazing body, and he isn’t shy about it, frequently spending summer barbecues shirtless. But it’s different being alone in his apartment when he’s half naked and feels a little inappropriate.
You peer back at him and he’s just staring at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something. You point to the TV.
“What are you watching?”
“Armageddon. Have you seen it?”
“Yeah. Once at the movies when it came out. It wasn’t bad.”
“Wanna watch it with me?” Sy asks.
Shit.
“Sure,” you say hesitantly. Your mouth is suddenly a little dry. Maybe you should get that drink first.
Sy swings his legs off the couch and pats the cushion next to him with a small jerk of his head.
You swallow hard as you sit on the opposite end of the couch, curling your legs up under you and leaning your head on the armrest. He rearranges the blanket so you both have some and settles into his corner, putting his arm on the back of the couch.
For a while you watch the movie in silence, sometimes one or both of you chuckle at a joke, but mostly you are quiet. The movie is supposed to just be a popcorn flick, it's not supposed to be that deep, nevertheless, you find yourself invested in the love story. And while it's cringe inducing, the scene with Ben Affleck’s character playing with the animal crackers on Liv Tyler's belly hits you hard. You’ve never experienced that kind of intimacy with a guy and you’re starting to think you never will.
“Sy?”
He hums.
“Do you ever…” you pause and shake your head, “Nevermind.”
“No, go on, Sugar.” Sy mutes the tv and turns his body to face you.
You look down at the blanket and play with the edge. “Do you ever worry you'll be alone forever?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Askin’ the big questions tonight I see.”
You shrug. “I just… sometimes I think I'm never gonna find someone. I’m never gonna fall in love.”
His brows draw together, “You’ve never been in love?”
“That stuff you hear about in movies and books, the sparks, the skipped heartbeats, the butterflies, the constant yearning, the need to be with them all the time. I've never felt that really.”
“Never?”
“Other than silly teenage crushes,” you bite your lip, you shouldn’t have mentioned that. You quickly deflect. “You have, haven't you? With Anna?”
“Yeah,“ he says with a half smile, “Yeah I loved her.”
“Do you miss her?”
Sy inhales deeply and studies his hands a moment, taking your question seriously. He looks at you before he speaks. “It’s complicated. I miss the feelings, I miss knowin’ I had someone, someone to be with, but I dont miss her.”
“You miss being in a relationship?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “and the sex, I miss the sex.”
You giggle and look away. “I’m sure you have no problem getting sex, Sy.”
He smirks and shrugs, conceding your point. “Yeah, I could get sex, but… It’s different when you’re in love. Feels different. I miss that sex.”
“At least you’ve had it once. I never have.”
“Wait, you’ve never had sex?”
“I’ve had sex, just not that amazing, loving, the world disappears and its just the two of you, sex. It’s never been good,” you pause and look at Sy and you before you can stop yourself you add, “I’ve never even had an orgasm.”
“What? Ever?”
“I have… alone…” you squirm a little in the seat, berating yourself for even bringing it up.
“Assholes,” Sy says.
“It's not really their fault,” you explain and Sy raises his eyebrows, “I mean they tried, it's just that I can’t seem to… get over the line.”
“You mean you get in your head? You overthink it?”
“Maybe,” you say, “I start wondering if I’m too loud. Am I taking too long? If I taste—” you stop talking, suddenly realising what you’re saying and who you’re saying it to. Your eyes meet Sy’s and you can’t breathe; he's looking at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at you before. He’s biting his lip, his eyes are dark and hooded. You turn away. “Nevermind.”
Sy clears his throat and an awkward silence descends between you as you both stare at the television.
“So, that crush you had,” Sy glances at you, “Anyone I know?”
“It was in high school, Sy. And I’m over it.” Completely over it.
“I ain’t over my high school crush,” he says with a smirk.
“What? Really?” you ask surprised. “You… you dated all the time, and all the popular girls… Why didn’t you ask her out?”
“It was complicated,” he says, “she was sorta off limits.”
“Who was she?”
“She was a sophomore when I was a senior.”
“Wait. She was in my year?” you ask, surprised again by Sy’s admission. “Was she one of Caroline’s friends? Was that why she was off limits?”
He nods. “She never actually said I couldn’t date any of her friends, but… Anyway, I never said anything.”
You nibble on your lip, thinking back to who it could have been. “Was it Leanne Newman?”
Sy scrunches his face up, “No.” You open your mouth to guess again but Sy cuts you off. “I ain’t playing a guessin’ game with you.”
“You can’t tell me you had a crush on one of our friends and not tell me who it is.”
“Sure you wanna know?” Sy asks, his face is impassive and you’re unable to get a read on him.
“Well yeah, what does it matter now?” you grin and say teasingly, “Are you worried I’ll tell her? You getting shy on me, Syverson?”
He doesn’t smile back or take the bait. Instead he stares at you while he pulls his lower lip into his mouth. Then he shakes his head. “Now's not the time.” He puts his arm around your shoulders and tries to get you to lay your head on his chest. “Ask me another time.”
You push away from him and sit up, “Why are you being all weird about this? You were the one who brought it up.”
His jaw clenches. “Well who was yours?” he asks, his annoyance plain by his curt tone.
You shift uncomfortably. “It’s not important,” you throw the blankets back and stand, “I think I’ll be able to sleep now.”
That’s a lie, but this conversation is heading in a strange direction and you’ve had enough for one night.
Sy stands too, the covers falling from his legs and you realise all he has on are a pair of boxer briefs. Your face heats, mortified that you had sat there all that time and all he had been wearing was underwear.
“So you’re not going to tell me?” Sy says, completely unperturbed by the fact he was nearly naked.
“You’re not going to tell me yours,” you fold your arms across your chest and try to focus on his face. He looks away as he runs his tongue over his teeth and you recognise it as a sign of frustration. You throw your hands up in the air, completely exasperated, “This is ridiculous, Sy. I can’t believe we’re arguing about this.”
“It’s you,” he says.
“Me?” you say, your voice rising, becoming shrill, “I’m not doing anything!”
“No, Sugar,” he says softly, meeting your eyes, “The sophomore. It was you.”
You take a step back and stiffen. You feel an icy chill weave its way up your spine.
“That’s not funny, Sy,” you say, your voice quivering in disbelief.
“Do I look like I’m joking?” he says soberly as he takes a step closer to you.
You have to admit, he does look serious. You shake your head as you drop your gaze to the floor, unable to look at him. You can’t believe him, no way; he’s never even hinted his interest in you.
“Sugar,” he says gruffly, “I told you mine, are you gonna tell me yours?”
His hand cups your cheek and the contact makes your skin tingle all over as if you can feel his touch everywhere. You gasp as he runs his thumb over your cheek, then over your lips and jaw before tracing your throat to the hollow at the base of your neck.
“Or am I gonna have to guess?” he asks, with a cocky smirk.
“How do you know?” you ask, your voice weak with breathlessness, “How do you know it was you?”
“I had a hunch.” His pink tongue slips quickly between his lips, making his lips shine with the reflection of the tv screen. “A hope that maybe you feel the same way I do. I wasn’t sure.”
“But I’m over you,” you say more to yourself than to him.
“That's a damn shame,” Sy says in a tone so low you barely make out the words, “Cause I ain’t ever gonna get over you.”
He licks his lips again and his eyes trace the path of his thumb as he caresses your jaw. Then he meets your eyes and he takes a half step closer, your bodies almost touching. His lips part, his head dips and his eyelids start to close.
Oh God. He’s going to kiss you.
This can’t be real, there is no way after all this time that tonight he’s going to confess that he’s had feelings for you. Since high school no less.
Why now?
What changed?
You gasp and firmly hold his shoulders, stopping his advance. You know why he’s saying it and it makes your stomach clench.
“You’re just saying this because of what I said,” you accuse and Sy’s eyes fly open and his head snaps to attention. “You feel sorry for me don’t you?”
“Feel sorry for you?”
Frustrated you push away from him, tears threatening again as you head to his kitchen. You thought Sy was better than this, a man that would never use your feelings against you like this. Did he really think you’d fall for it?
“I don’t need a pity fuck, Sy.”
“A pity fuck?” Sy says, incredulously as he follows you.
“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”
You lift the receiver on his wall mounted phone and start dialling.
“Sugar, what are you doin’?” Sy asks, sounding confused. “Who you callin’?”
“A cab,” you say roughly, “I’m leaving.”
“You’re leaving?” he says, sounding offended.
“Stop repeating everything I say!”
“Sugar, I just laid my heart out and you…”
Your head jerks up and you see bewilderment in his pinched brow. He keeps advancing on you, hesitantly, as if at any moment he expected you to tell him to stop. And you want to. You open your mouth to tell him so, but the look in his eyes gives you pause.
He leans into you, trapping your body against the counter. His hands cover your cheeks. “Baby, I mean it, I ain’t lyin’ to you. I feel somethin’ every time I touch ya. Every time you smile at me I feel like I’m about to break out in a sweat. When you cry it makes my chest ache and I...” His arm coils around your back and he rests his weight against you, “If you don’t want me, fine, okay; I’ll let ya go and you can call your cab. But I don’t want you to leave thinkin’ I lied to you.”
“Why haven't you told me this before?”
“Baby, I wanted to. So many times,” he chuckles bitterly and lowers his head. “I thought I was over you, we were kids, and I was gone then you were gone. But every time I came back and saw you,” his voice lowers to nearly a whisper, “I knew I was never gonna stop wantin’ to be with you.”
God, this is too much. This is crazy, just crazy. And you just can’t deal with it.
“I want to go home, Sy,” you manage to rasp as tears well in your eyes again.
Sy doesn’t move for a moment, and you think maybe he won’t let you leave. Then he sniffs and takes a step back, without looking at you. “Okay,” he says, “Yeah, okay.”
A piercing pain strikes your chest at the dejected sound of his voice. “I’m sorry, Sy. I…”
He holds a hand out to you, gesturing you to stop. “It’s ok, you don’t gotta explain,” He rubs his hand over his head and down his face, “I’m uh… I’ll let ya make your call,” he says as he turns away and leaves the kitchen.
You call the cab company with shaking fingers. You think you’re going to have to call out to Sy to get his address, but you discover a few bills stuck to his fridge. After you hang up, you find some tissues, bundle them up and stick them in the pocket of your pants, certain you’re going to need them for the ride home.
Shit.
You are wearing Sy’s clothes. You go to the rack by the door and grab your bag, intending to change before you leave.
“You don’t have to change,” Sy says, from behind you. You turn to him and notice that he’s put on a t-shirt, sweats and some shoes. “Keep ‘em. Or give ‘em back another time.”
God, he sounds so broken, so hurt, and awfully resigned.
“Sy, I…” you start to cry again; you can’t stop the tears.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Sy draws you into his arms, “Easy now, it’s ok.”
You shake your head into his chest. It's not okay. It won't ever be okay between you again. You know that. You know your relationship has changed forever. You feel like shit. Here you are rejecting him, telling him you’re not interested and he’s the one holding you while you cry. No matter how good it feels to be in his embrace, you can’t take comfort from him anymore. It's not fair to him.
Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you slide out of Sy’s arms. You slip your shoes on, feeling utterly ridiculous in your heels and put your coat on. Sy reaches for his coat too and when you’re ready to leave, he opens the door for you and walks you out.
When he opens his building's front door, the icy chill of the night air slices through Sy’s t-shirt and your thin coat, taking your breath away. You start to shiver immediately.
“Sy, it’s freezing. You don’t have to wait with me.”
He just shakes his head and walks you to the street. “How long did they say they’d be?”
“Ten minutes,” you tell him.
He nods and sticks his hands in his pockets and you put yours under your arms, stepping from foot to foot trying to keep warm.
“Think it’ll rain later?” Sy asks looking up at the cloudy night sky.
“Sy, you don’t have to do this,” you say, “you don’t have to pretend that everythings okay.”
“I’m just talkin’. Ain’t we able to talk now that I’ve made a complete fool of myself?” he grins, making light of the situation.
“You didn’t…” Sy glances at you out of the corner of his eyes, and you shake your head. “Not a complete fool.”
“Just a li’l bit then,” he surmises.
You shrug. He really hadn’t misinterpreted anything. You look down at your feet, curling your toes in your heels, trying to keep them warm. You don’t want to think about it, you don’t want to think about him, you just want to go home, have a cry in your bed and try to sort out your mixed up feelings.
“Cab’s here,” he says.
You look up and see that he’s right. The driver pulls up, winds his window down and says your name, confirming the car is for you. You nod and for a moment you’re stuck, unable to move.
Sy places a gentle hand on your lower back and you can feel his warm breath as he kisses your temple.
“Go on, Sugar,” he murmurs.
You close your eyes. Your chest tightens, and a lump forms in your throat. You reach a hand out to him but he’s already moved away, walking back to his apartment. You feel sick, you can’t work out what’s wrong with you. Why does it feel like your heart is breaking?
“Miss?” the cab driver calls to you, “You coming?”
You’re trembling and not just from the cold. You take a step back from the cab and shake your head.
“I made a mistake,” you tell the driver. He looks at you with raised eyebrows but you don't have time to explain.
Pivoting, you run back towards the building. Sy has already gone back inside and you see him at the stairs. You knock frantically on the door, he stiffens and turns around, his eyes widening momentarily in surprise. He comes back down the stairs in a little jog, and opens the door with furrowed brows.
“Did you forget somethin’?” Sy asks.
You shake your head, unable to get the words out.
Sy looks over your head, “Hey, your cabs leaving, what—”
Standing on your toes you put your arms around his neck and pull his mouth down to yours.
Sparks. Skipped heart beats. Butterflies. Yearning. Need.
You feel it all as Sy groans and wraps his arms around you. His lips are as soft rose petals as they move over yours, stroking lightly at first before building pressure. You feel something hard against your back and you barely register that he's brought you inside and pinned you against the wall.
“Sy,” you whisper, drawing away to take a ragged breath.
“Baby,” Sy says, his hands moving over your body as if confirming that you’re really there, “you came back.” He states the obvious and if you weren't closing in on the edge of a pure mental meltdown yourself, you would have laughed.
His lips are on yours again, his beard feels so soft as his whiskers slide over your lips. He lifts your shirt, his hands are cool and your skin feels like it's burning as they brush your trembling belly. He grasps your waist, his fingers dig into your flesh as his kiss becomes firmer.
“Want this… Want you… So long… Always…” He murmurs between kisses.
His lips move down your neck, his kiss is rough, wet and scorching. His hands move higher, squeezing at your ribs as if he wants to crush you. You close your eyes, your body arching, your hips slotting against his and you moan.
His thumbs caress the curve of your bare breasts beneath his shirt. Your hands seem to move by their own volition as they glide down his neck and under his jacket. You slide it off his shoulders feeling the tension held in the bulging mass of muscles beneath his shirt.
His hands leave your body while he throws his coat off like it's on fire and he drops it uncaringly to the floor. Then he leans hard into you, hips circling you and you can feel him, growing hard, so fucking hard, against your belly. His hands move under your shirt again, but he withdraws them quickly.
“Upstairs,” he breathes and he bends down to grab his coat.
Wordlessly, he takes your hand and walks you towards the stairs. You get the feeling if you weren’t trotting after him, he’d drag you anyway.
He turns to look at you as you reach the first landing, his eyes are blue fire as he bites his lip. You don’t know what he sees when he looks at you, but you know you must be reflecting the same vehement expression. Now that you’ve kissed, there’s no way to hide your feelings. He takes the stairs blind, like he’s bewitched by your face and won’t even look where he’s going. You aren’t much better, seemingly trapped by the same force that keeps his eyes on you.
As he opens the door to his apartment, his heavy silence and heady gaze finally gets the better of you. Closing your eyes, you turn away from him slowly, taking your bags off and placing them by the door.
Sy hums as he moves behind helping you take your coat off. You step out of your heels, using the movements to put some distance between the two of you.
“I think we need to talk about this before it goes any further, Sy,” you say looking at his cream coloured carpet.
His feet enter your field of vision and he lifts your chin.
“Shoot,” he says in his deep gravelly voice.
You swallow hard. God, he radiates sexual energy, raw, primal, and seductive. You haven’t felt that from him before, never to this extent at least. His hand moves down your throat and slides to the side of your neck. Your body hums, vibrating from somewhere deep inside.
“I’m listening,” he prompts.
He seems so composed now, so in control, earlier he had been as wild as you. Now you feel like you’re about to spontaneously combust and he’s as cool as ice.
“I uh… What are we going to do?” you ask flustered and uncomposed, your eyes sliding shut as he tugs gently on your ear with his thumb and forefinger.
“Now or tomorrow?” His breath is hot on your neck as he dips his head and nuzzles into you. His beard pleasantly brushes over your skin and you feel it in your spine as you shiver with pleasure.
“Now? Both?” His silky lips skim over you, the potent cocktail of sensations is doing you in and you can’t think. “Sy stop, please.”
Leaving you with one last kiss he breathes in deeply before taking a step back. He crosses his arms over his chest and your eyes slide over his body, lingering on the bulge between his legs. You drag your focus to his face and you see that you were wrong, he’s not composed, he’s as aroused as you are.
“Oh fuck it,” you say, and grab his shirt in your fists.
A fleeting look of shock crosses Sy’s features before his blue eyes flash with lust and he grins like a cat who got the cream. He captures your face in his hands and meets your lips with his.
His hands roam everywhere, kneading at your hips, your breasts, and your ass. You can’t keep your hands off him either, running up his thickly muscled arms, to his neck and down his strong back. Your fingers dive into the scruff of his beard finding it surprisingly soft and your nails scratch gently at his cheeks and jaw.
“Couch or bed?” he growls with a raised eyebrow. You know what he's asking, he wants to know how far you want to take this.
“Bed,” you say determinedly. You want it, you want him, why are you questioning it?
“Oh fuck yeah.”
Without letting you out of his arms he walks you to his bed, awkwardly trying to toe off his shoes as he keeps trying to kiss you.
“You can let me go, Sy,” you tease as he grunts and he finally kicks his shoes away.
“Can’t do that, baby,” he says with a smirk, “I ain’t ever lettin’ you go.” He grabs your ass and lifts you onto his hips and you yelp. “I’m gonna bundle you up and take you with me everywhere. Might get some side eye at work, but it’ll be worth it.”
“You’re so cheesy, Sy,” you giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you laugh, Sugar,” he says without the slightest hint of amusement and your laughter dies.
An intensity settles between you as Sy takes the last few steps into his bedroom. He leaves the light off and turns on a small lamp that bathes the room in a soft warm glow. Then he lowers you to your feet.
You turn to look at the bed, the covers are still pulled back as you left it when you got up to get a drink. Sy walks around the other side and climbs in and you slip between the covers and meet him in the middle of the bed. There is a weighty anticipation and part of you wonders if you’re moving too fast. Maybe you should have picked the couch.
If you’re honest with yourself, your trepidation comes from more than that. Now that the moment has arrived, now that you’re in bed with the man you have wanted to be with for as long as you can remember, you fear disappointment.
You know you shouldn’t get caught up in your head. Kissing Sy was already a better experience than you’ve ever had with any man before. But somehow that makes the ball of anxiety in your gut grow even heavier and more onerous.
And worse than all of that is the question: what if you had it wrong all the time? What if you’re the one who is a disappointment? What if sex was always bad for you because you aren’t any good at it?
“You okay?” Sy asks as he strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers.
You shrug. He rubs his thumb between your pinched brows as if to soothe away your worries. He looks away for a moment and stares off into the distance, then he brings his eyes back to you.
“Are you thinkin’ ‘bout some of the things you told me about earlier?”
You drop your head and quietly curse.
“Don’t think about that, baby. Just feel me,” he says.
“I can’t help it,” you whisper.
“Let me help you then,” Sy says with a grin and throws back the covers.
“Sy…” you whimper softly.
“Hush,” he says, brushing mouth against yours.
His velvety soft tongue flicks teasingly at your lips before his hands travel down your sides. He lifts your shirt, and moves down your body until he is kissing your belly.
“Jane’s Addiction,” Sy murmurs as he nuzzles into your tummy.
“What?” you ask, completely thrown by his out of left field comment.
“Jane’s Addiction was playin’ on the radio the first time I met you.”
“You remember the first time you met me?”
He nods solemnly, “Few days into senior year. It was rainin’ and Carol begged me to drive her and her new friend home.”
“Oh I remember that!” you say. You laugh and run your hand over his buzz cut, “Your hair was so long and curly.”
“Yeah, it was,” he breathes and you gasp as his hands reach your breasts.
You bite your lip as he lifts your shirt higher and his eyes grow wide as your breasts are revealed. He keeps raising the hem and you lift your arms. With a quick tug you’re topless and before you even have a chance to feel self conscious, he rises to his knees, reaches behind his head and he is swiftly shirtless too.
He lays over you, his weight is heavy but welcomed and warm. His lips are at your neck, his hand cupping your breast, caressing, rubbing, squeezing.
“You sat in the backseat, and I kept looking in the rear view mirror at you. I couldn’t stop.”
His kiss moves to your nipple, his tongue slips between his teeth, circling before drawing you into his mouth. The gentle suckle makes you moan and you ache for more as the throbbing between your legs borders on unbearable. His azure gaze is intense and hungry as he lifts his head.
“You wore a green strapless dress to my 21st birthday and kept stealin’ my tequila shots,” he continues, “You wore a pink cardigan with cherries on it when you came to my homecoming after my first deployment,” his voice gets low as he adds, “You kissed me that night, just my cheek, but I’ll never forget it, or that your hair smelled like strawberries.”
“Sy…”
He rises to his knees again, licking his lips and tucking the bottom one into his mouth. His broad chest is puffing hard as he looks at you and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your borrowed sweats.
“You cut your hair to look like some actress when you came to visit me with Carol after I made it through selection,” he glances away long enough to untie the draw string.
You cover your face in your hands, reliving the painful six months it took for the cut to grow out. “Oh God, that haircut was awful.”
“It was,” Sy chuckles, then he’s quiet as you feel the sweats slide down your thighs. You peek through your fingers. “But you were still so fucking beautiful,” he says and his body covers yours. He removes your hands from your face and cradles your head in his hand, “You are beautiful.”
You shake your head, but you smile, warming with his compliments. “You remember all of that?”
“That and so much more,” he says as he dips his head and kisses you.
You kiss him back with a slightly parted mouth and you slip your tongue past his lips. He groans wrapping an arm around your waist while yours encircle his neck. He breathes hard into your mouth as he kisses you, and you have no doubt you’re breathing just as hard.
“Gonna go slow, okay?” Sy murmurs. His eyes sweep down over your nearly naked form and he chuckles, “Gonna try anyway.”
“You don’t have to,” you say.
“I want to,” he insists, “I wanna take care of you, make it good for you.”
He kisses you as he places his hand on the inside of your thigh and exertes slight pressure. You let yourself open for him, so eager for his touch you can’t stop trembling. His kiss grows deeper, harder as his fingertips dance up your thigh.
His hand cups your clothed centre and he groans as you gasp and instinctively close your legs. He holds your thigh and guides it open again with a gentle yet firm touch. The heel of his palm presses against your clit and your body surges, heat radiating as he moves in tight circles.
Your heart starts to pound, your breath shudders and your thighs won’t stop shaking. You recognise the feeling and it's good, better than good; every stroke of his hand, every brush of his lips and flick of his tongue at your mouth takes you higher until your entire body throbs.
Sy lifts his head, his mouth hovers just above yours. He stares into your eyes while his fingers delicately trace the edge of your underwear.
“Gonna take ‘em off,” he says, pausing until you nod, lifting your hips and he drags your panties down your thighs.
With a gentle nudge he guides your thighs open again and his hand strokes your body, from your hip to your breasts, he leaves a trail of goosebumps on your skin. He bites his lip as he looks at you then he lowers his head until it rests next to yours on the pillow.
“I wanna make you cum,” he says as he caresses your shoulder then traces an invisible line down your arm.
He laces his fingers between yours and brings your joined hands to your core. Your hips roll, spine arches as he dips your fingers into your slick and sticky wetness.
“Fuck,” Sy groans and presses his forehead into yours, “Show me what you like, show me what feels good.”
You shake your head, “I don’t think…”
“There ya go thinkin’ when ya should be feelin’,” Sy says, his voice a little teasing.
Guiding your joined hands he slides your fingers over your folds and spreads your wetness all over you.
“Close your eyes for me,” he murmurs, “Just feel what I do, listen to what I say. Can you do that for me, baby?”
You don’t respond, you can’t, so you close your eyes and try to focus on his touch.
“Put my hand where you want it,” he urges hoarsely.
You nod and take hold of his wrist and using your other hand you cover his. You guide him over your slit letting his whole hand glide over you, the friction of his skin against your folds makes you moan.
“Your pussy feels so good, baby,” he breathes into your ear, “love how soft ya are… delicate…”
You whimper as your nails dig into his wrist and your body heaves. A warm rush floods your core, you’ve never been so aroused by a man in your life. “Oh God, Sy.”
“So wet and puffy and warm, bet ya taste real good too.”
Molten hot liquid seems to flow through your veins and heat blooms deep within your gut. You raise his fingers to your clit, placing them right where you need them and you guide his movements for a few seconds. His hand moves passively over you until he seems to catch your rhythm and you feel the moment he takes over. You let him go and try to keep breathing as torrid jolts of intense pleasure wreak havoc on your nerves.
“I wanted this for a long time. Wanted you here, in my bed, wanted to touch you like this,” he says as his beard grazes the side of your neck and his lips capture your earlobe. “And that you wanted it too, that you wanted to be here, with me.”
His confession makes you open your eyes and turn your head towards him. He’s looking down at his hand between your legs, his brows are low and his eyes are narrow. He bites his lip and you watch stunned as his teeth drag over his soft flesh.
“Fuck,” he says under his breath, so softly that if you hadn’t seen his mouth moving you don’t think you would have been able to make out what he said.
His eyes sweep up your body and he catches you looking at him. Through your moans, you smile shyly at him and he makes a low growling noise in his throat.
“You look so beautiful like this,” he rumbles, and he leans over you.
Your lips meet in a sordid clash, it's wet, sloppy and uncontrolled. You grab at his arm clawing and clutching, your legs won’t stop shaking, and you can’t stop your moans turning into cries.
You squeeze your eyes shut and fall back into the pillow, concentrating on the tightness between your legs. Your whole body feels taut, pulled tight like an elastic, ready to snap at any moment. This is where it stops for you, where you get caught, where you take too long, where he gets bored, where he…
“Sy, I don’t think I can, I…” you say, turning him, panting and exhausted.
Sy takes your hand and holds it against his sweats. You feel him underneath, hard as steel, pulsing, and thick.
“Oh shit,” you cry.
“Feel that, baby?” Sy groans, “That's what touchin’ you does to me. If ya want me to stop, I will, but don’t ask me to stop cause you think I don’t wanna do this. ‘Cause you’d be dead wrong.”
You gasp and whine, mewling as you melt into his gaze. An animal hunger and primal need is naked in his stare, but so was his enjoyment. There is a subtle curve to his lips as he starts to rut against your hand and you can have no doubt of his desire.
“Don’t stop,” you say.
Sy voice reverberates in his chest as he rests his forehead against yourrs forehead, his eyes holding yours as with a gaze that would be predatory if he wasn’t simultaneously panting as if he’s trapped too.
The tension within you builds again, faster now and it takes you no time to flirt with the edge of release. Your body becomes unhinged; clenching, desperate, writhing. You cry out as you fly apart and for a moment you hang there, floating in bliss as your body undulates, riding out each scorching wave of euphoric pleasure.
When you come back down and can start to think coherently you feel Sy’s nose rubbing gently against yours. His hand is flat covering your core, slowly dragging up and down over you, as if he really is touching you for his own enjoyment. His mouth drifts lazily over yours, kissing your top then bottom lip.
Your hand is still against his cock, your fingers caging him as your palm presses flat. You move your hand, and you feel the rush of air from his lungs against your lips in a ragged exhale. You do it again and his hips jerk.
“Baby…” he drawls.
You roll onto your side so you're facing him, and rest your free hand against the centre of his chest, your fingers sinking into his coarse hair.
“Sy…” you hum back as you slide your hand down his torso until your fingers find another patch of hair and your fingertips dip teasingly into his waistband.
“Wanna touch me, huh?” he asks in a low, gravelly tone.
“Yes,” you say.
“Fuck, that word has never sounded so good,” Sy grins.
You giggle softly then bite your lip, you probably shouldn’t laugh at a time like this.
Sy caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers, “I love it when you smile, Sugar.”
Your lips stretch wide, you can’t help it. Sy hums, still grinning and leans in to kiss you. You move your hand lower into his pants and finding the elastic of his boxer briefs, you slip your fingers beneath those too. Your heart pounds and your fingers tremble as you feel the tight soft skin of his cock. With the softest touch you can manage, you wrap your hand around him.
Sy sucks in a breath with a hiss, “Gonna take my pants off.” You nod and relax your hand, but he puts a hand on your wrist. “Don’t let go.”
You suppress another giggle as Sy awkwardly lowers his pants around where you’re joined. But he moves fast and quickly he settles onto his back and draws you close under his arm.
Looking down, your eyes widen as you take in the sight of him. Your body warms again as you watch your hand move slowly over him. You feel Sy’s body twitch, moving slightly as you work him with a slow easy rhythm.
Then as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer he lets out a low groan and his whole body heaves. His arm tightens around you and he lifts your chin before covering your mouth with his. His tongue sweeps over yours as he kisses you firmly, ferociously, demandingly. Then he falls back again, his head dropping into the pillow.
You kiss his shoulder, his muscles pulling taut below his skin as he tightens his arm around you. Encouraged, you move your mouth along his collarbone to the base of his neck. You want to kiss him there but you’re too far away, so you move onto your belly, almost climbing over his huge form until you’re half on him, half on the mattress. Without stopping the motion of your hand, you nuzzle into his neck. His skin is so hot beneath your lips, humid as he breaks out into a sweat.
“Fuck,” he groans, and he holds the back of your head to him as his body rolls under you. Despite how small his size makes you feel physically, the way he moves, the noises that he makes, and the way he touches you, makes you feel powerful. You love knowing you’re making him feel good and you want to give him more.
You move down his body slowly, leaving a trail of kisses as you go. When you reach his hip, you look up at him and his eyes are already on you.
“Baby?” he asks.
You look at him in your hand briefly then look back at Sy and lick your lips.
“Wanna put me in your mouth, huh?” he whispers, his chest is pumping hard, his cock is pulsing and becoming unbelievably thick in your hand. He reaches down and rubs his thumb over your mouth. “Pretty li’l lips.”
“Yes.” You part your lips and without breaking the rhythmic motions of your hand you take him in your mouth.
“God damn…” He cradles your head in his warm hands, fingers caressing your neck and throat, tracing the curve of your jaw.
“Look so good, baby… feel so good…”
He groans and his hips move in a slow, gentle rocking motion, his body arching as he moves within your mouth. His tenderness is not what you’re used to; he essentially fucking your mouth, yet you feel as though he’s completely surrendered to the moment and to you.
Sy isn’t quiet, and you quickly discover what he likes by watching and listening. You find a nice rhythm, sucking and massaging with your tongue while he pumps into your mouth. He’s careful not to go too deep at first, but soon you see his starts to become erratic, tensing his thighs hard and he seems to grow harder in your hand. You take over, moving over him steadily increasing his pace.
“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he grunts out his warning, “Oh fuck! Gonna fuckin’ cum in your mouth.”
His eyes close tight, his head rolls back and his whole body seems to elongate. His groans turn into growls before he roars your name and begins to fill your mouth with long, thick, and warm jets.
“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles as you slow down your movements, gently licking within your mouth until he shivers with a hum and pulls his hips away.
You sit on your knees, unsure of what to do. Now that it is over and both your passions are sated, you wonder what is going to happen. You have fleeting images of awkward interactions, perhaps never talking about this night again.
You place your hand on his still trembling thigh. You like the feeling of his sparsely haired skin under your palm, and you try to commit this moment to memory, in case it never happens again. He’s so attractive; his shoulders, arms and forehead are covered in a light sheen, his mouth is curved into a soft smile and he has a hand on his chest as he breathes heavily and steadily while he comes down from his high.
“Whatcha doin’ all the way over there?” Sy asks as he lifts the hand off his chest and beckons you to him.
Hesitantly you lay next to him, positioning yourself into the crook of his arm with your head on his shoulder. He lifts your chin and kisses your mouth with a tender stroke of lips and tongue.
Sy pulls away humming and asks, “You need anythin’? A drink or somethin’?”
You shake your head, “No. Thank you though.”
Sy chuckles a little and kisses you on the top of your head. “Want to sleep?” He asks, his beard tickles your forehead as he adds, “With me?”
“Yeah, I do,” you say softly.
He leans down to bring the covers up over both of you. He hums again. He sounds content and happy, and starts to stroke your arms with his fingers.
You start to think that maybe… maybe this thing with you and Sy isn't just a one off.
When you wake in the morning, you find yourself alone in bed.
Your heart sinks into your gut and your throat seems to want to close up. You quickly take hold of yourself rationalising that you’re in his bed, surely he couldn’t be so desperate to avoid you that he would leave his own house and make you find your own way home.
As you raise your head to sit up, you notice a piece of paper on Sy’s pillow. Nervously, you reach for it and see that it’s a quickly scrawled note.
Gone for a run.
You looked so pretty sleeping, I didn’t wanna wake you.
I put the coffee on. Make yourself a cup if you want.
Sy
The mild panic you felt begins to wane as you read over his note again. He hasn’t just left you, he’s coming back and he still thinks you’re pretty. Smiling stupidly, you flop back onto the bed and give a little squeal into the pillows.
Before Sy returns, you get dressed in your clothes from last night. The top you wore felt scandalously low in the light of the early morning, but your coat would cover most of it. You wash your face and rub some toothpaste onto your teeth and rinse. You think about looking for a brush, but you don’t want to go searching through Sy’s bathroom cabinet.
Just as you’re finishing pouring yourself a coffee, Sy returns. He hasn’t noticed you yet, so biting your lip you take the time to really look at him as he toes off his sneakers. Sy is spectacularly attractive wearing an army PT t-shirt, a pair of running shorts, iPod earbuds in his ears, dripping with sweat and humming. He seems to ooze a raw, primal, brutal sexuality in his walk as he heads your way.
When he finally notices you, he grins and pulls the earbuds out and lays his iPod on the kitchen bench. He comes close but keeps some distance between you as he lays a hand on your hip before leaning in to kiss your cheek.
“Mornin’, Sugar,” he says. He takes a step back as you reach for him and you feel disappointed. It must have shown on your face because he quickly continues, “I’m all sweaty. Gonna take a shower, okay?”
You smile and nod, “Okay.”
He returns your smile and takes half a step to move away, before changing his mind and turning back to you.
“I liked comin’ home to you,” he says. His eyes wander over your clothes, and he runs a finger down your exposed chest. “You look good.”
Feeling a little timid by his suggestive touch, you look to the ground and make a joke. “You like my walk of shame outfit?”
“I ain’t ashamed, baby,” he says, sweaty or not, he takes you in his arms, “you ain’t got nothin’ to be ashamed of neither. I don’t regret what happened last night. Not one bit.”
You meet his eyes and see how open his stare is and you believe him. You see the unasked question as he peers at you. “I don’t either, Sy.”
“Good,” Sy grins, “‘Cause I wanna do it again.” You laugh a little and look away and Sy chuckles too. “No, I mean… Well yeah, that. But I wanna take ya out. On a date.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Sy says firmly. Then his eyes light up. “Wait here okay? Wanna show ya somethin’.”
He doesn’t wait for your reply and leaves the kitchen coming back moments later with an envelope and hands it to you.
“Last night, you asked why I hadn’t said anythin’ about how I felt,” he waits for you to nod before he continues, “Well, I was planning on askin’ you to come with me. Ask you out, I mean.”
Turning the envelope over, you lift the flap and pull out two concert tickets to Jane’s Addiction.
“Sy, I…” you look at him feeling overwhelmed, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll go with me.”
“Of course I will,” you say.
Sy draws you into his arms, kisses you and doesn’t let go.
#captain syverson#captain syverson smut#captain syverson angst#captain sy#captain syverson fanfic#captain syverson fanfiction#captain syverson x female reader#syverson#syverson fanfiction#syverson x reader#captain syverson x reader#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fanfic#captain sy x reader#captain sy fanfiction#and so much more...#sillyrabbit81#captain syverson x you
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Butterflies in your stomach
Syverson x autistic!reader
Just a small thing I thought about.
TW: fluff
Masterlist pinned on my blog
gif by demicampirew
You had met Syverson when he moved in with Jay, his best friend, after he was done with the military. Jay brought him to the bar, your friends and you would usually hang out. He was so handsome and immediately you had a crush on him. He was very much your type. Broad, muscular but with a layer of fat, not clearly defined muscles but clearly strong. They were functional muscles and you could only imagine how he could lift you up, carry you in his arms. Or easily lift the heavy things you had problems with. You dreamed about him coming up behind you taking the heavy things from you and easily carrying them to wherever you needed. And as a cherry on top he had a beard, giving him a rough, rugged look that made your heart flutter. Yet, what truly enticed you was how kind and caring he was, joking around even if it was on his own expense. He was cocky but not arrogant.
Yet, you had no idea how to go about your crush, no idea what kind of woman he would be interested in and if you fell into that category. You spent countless nights wondering, thinking about him. Your heart would beat faster and faster when you knew you would see him whenever your friends would go out in the evening. You were not in the habit to regularly go out but the fluttering in your stomach gave you enough energy not to miss one outing and the chance to see him.
Your best friend found this quite odd that you would willingly go to every gathering. And finally only a week after you had realized you like Syverson you told your best friend. You were never a person who was ashamed of your feelings. Not understanding the secrecy around having a crush.
Even though it would make you sad, very much so if he did not like you, you would be okay. At least you would know and could try and move on.
However, as much as you tried you struggled with making conversation with him. It was always difficult for you. You either talked too little or too much. You did not know what to say, when and how to say something and eventually the conversations would die down and you were just not interesting enough for people to stick around. This got even worse when you liked someone. Trying to think clearly ignoring how hard your heart was beating and often your sentences were disjointed. While at times when a topic would arise you had previously been fixated on or were currently interested in. You would info dump and even sometimes correct people when they said something not entirely true. This was the biggest reason you struggled with finding a partner. You were just out of your depth with social interactions. And no one had ever caught your attention as much as Syverson. All you wanted was to be wrapped up into his arms and make him laugh, enjoy the rumble in his chest and the amazing feeling it gave you when you would make someone laugh. Especially laughter of happiness, this was the greatest joy for you.
You would always smile at him. When you first saw him you could not help but let the biggest broadest smile take over your face. Squishing up your cheeks until it would look like your eyes were closed. Yet, during the time you would spend with your friends at a bar or at someone's house having a BBQ you would shyly smile at him whenever your eyes met. No idea how to strike up a conversation. You could hardly look him in the eyes. Whenever you have intense emotion it is hard for you to look people in the eyes. No matter bad or good emotions. Your heart would race so hard that it would hurt if you also had to look directly at the person's eyes. Which was a shame as Sy had such beautiful eyes. You tried making conversation with him. You voice soft and tentative trying to curb the anxiety you felt talking to him, hoping he liked you.
You could not see how soft his eyes were when he looked at you. The encouraging smile when he saw the nervousness whenever he talked to you. At first he thought you might be a bit scared of him but soon he realized that you had taken a liking to him. He had talked to his best friend, asking if he knew something you were interested in. So he could coax you out of your shell. It was a bit hard to hold up the conversations at times but he did not mind leading the way throughout the chats you two had. It was superficial at first and he caught on quickly that you struggled a little with social interaction. So when his best friend said he would ask his boyfriend, a guy from your friend group he saw you get along easily, Sy felt encouraged that next time you two saw each other he would have something to talk about with you. He wanted you to feel included in the group and now that Syverson was retired and was so kindly taken into the friend group he did everything to be a part of their little found family.
When his best friend's boyfriend was over at their place he gave him some pointers not only on you but other people in the group. Yet Sy especially listened to what he said about you. You liked cartoon drawings, had a high level of education and loved learning new things. You tried to learn different languages, loved books and storytelling. You were closed off at first until you got a basic understanding of a person. But once someone would get through your shell you would open up. As Syverson understood from what the boyfriend said, you were honest, kind, gentle but stood up for what you believed, fighting for your loved ones. Syverson thought long and hard about what the boyfriend had said about you. He remembered the way you made sure everyone was okay, that they had drinks and food. How you ran after your friend when she forgot her hat at the bar even though you would see each other tomorrow. Saying: "I did not want her to be cold or panic searching for her hat." It brought a smile to Syverson's face. The more he thought about you the more he wanted to get to know you.
He slowly and so gently fell in love with you. When you two talked and he brought up a book he knew you liked, Syverson fell full force for you. The way your eyes lit up, how you stumbled over your word because you were speaking so fast, how you would gesture with your hands and smile up at him in excitement.
However, you surprised him when your group of friends left the bar. You turned to him, a little nervous and asked him if he wanted to have coffee with you. "Just us two. I like you and would love to get to know you better. If that is okay with you." He had never been asked out, well so direct and honest. He liked that. You seemed so fearless while doing it. Letting him know what you want but making sure you would be okay if he refused. Normally Sy was the one asking out the woman and the caveman at him was annoyed you had beaten him to it. Yet the war tired man in him was relieved to have such directness. No dancing around, straight and simple.
Finally he smiled at you, "'course darlin'. Would love that." He pulled out his phone to give you his number. Although you two were in a group chat with all your friends he wanted the experience of giving you his number, making it feel more like a romantic start. You beamed up at him pulling out a piece of paper. His lips quirked at this. He knew you had your phone on you. But you looked so cute, with the piece of paper in your hands holding it out excitedly to him.
Giving him the piece of paper he saw you had written your phone number on it and your name. He took it happily. "Let me know when you wanna grab that coffee. I am free most of the time." You went on, still smiling up at him. "You got it sweetheart." He hesitated a bit. He thought of your honesty so he gave himself a push. Screw seeming too eager! Who cares anyway?
“How about tomorrow at 3pm.” He smiled down at you.
Your friends had walked a bit further away giving you two some space but couldn’t help but look at the two smiling at each other. You two are so cute, your best friend thought.
“We could go to the small cafe with the vintage furniture, the one couple streets down the road.” He pointed his thumb behind him. You nodded eagerly. He knew you loved that cafe.
“Of course, I love that cafe. They have the option to put vanilla sugar into the coffee!” You exclaimed excitedly. “Well then it’s decided. I can pick you up and we can park by O'malley's pub then walk downtown.” You nodded once more. “See you then.” You hugged him. Burying your face in his chest, he enclosed you in his arms, almost swallowing you whole. He could get used to this. You lifted your head looking up at him, with sparkling eyes. Taking your face in his hands he kissed your forehead. “See you then.” He whispered. Watching as you and your best friend walked down the road to your car.
Both of you went home that night with butterflies in your stomach and a smile on your face.
Taglist:
@tumblnewby @irishprincess89 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @sofiebstar @omgkatinkaa @enchantedbytomandhenry @snowbellexx @daddys-littlewhitegirll @pjkimrnn @zealoushoundd, @lunedelorient, @tragicphoenix13, @alexa-fangirl-forever, @vhjlucky13 @bourbonwithicee, @lunedelorient, @identity2212
#syverson x reader#captain syverson x reader#captain syverson#syverson#syverson fluff#syverson imagine#captain syverson smut#captain syverson angst#syverson x autistic!reader#captain syverson x autistic!reader#sand castle (movie)#henry cavill#syverson x you#captain syverson x you#henry cavill x autistic!reader#captain syverson imagine
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I recently hit 1K (thank you guys again, I love you all xoxo) and I had no idea how to celebrate...
Today I finally got an idea :)) I'm making a little rec list of some of my favorite fics I've read on here over the years, to share them with you guys <3
Please remember that liking and REBLOGGING (!!!!!) is super duper important!
Tight Spaces by @peyton-warren
Into The Storm by @peyton-warren
A Dash of Cinnamon by @peyton-warren
Sanctuary of Hope by @peyton-warren
Pride by @thornsnvultures
Trouble Maker by @thanksbutno98
Beautiful Destinations by @thelastsock
A Flower in The Desert (series) by @ashbrat488
A/N: feel free to tag your favourite writers or send me fic recs babes 🫶🏻💕✨
taglist:
@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1
#gummydummy19#fanfiction#fluff#smut#captain syverson#smutty thoughts#bucky barnes#marvel#henry cavill#chris evans#jake jensen#Sebastian stan#john price#cod#angst#walter marshall#gummy’s fic recs#gummy’s 1k celebration#gummy’s comfort fics
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►PAIRING: Capt. Syverson X F!Reader
►UNIVERSE: Sand Castle
►WORDS: 898 short first chapter
►SUMMARY/PROMPT: You are a female solider, so naturally you're walking into a "male dominated territory." Syverson and you naturally but heads, not a fan of his abrasive ways and his lack of giving a shit for most things. In your eyes, he's unprofessional. You and him start off with this wit he brings out in you, tensions start to build. Eventually you two realize there is something there between you two, but being who you both are, this forbidden fraternization just can't happen, but over time, words are exchanged, and hot heavy moments happen. Soon you're discharged and sent home, eventually you and Syverson end up with the happy ending you both deserve but it will absolutely be trying and hard to get there. Do you have the guts to stick it through? Does he have the means to learn to control his urges?
►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Reader Angst | Syverson Smart Mouth | Reader Smart Mouth | Reader Syverson Tension | Foul Language | Sexist Comment
►NOTE: I want to thank @mrsevans90 for the inspiration to create a Syverson Series.
►IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa
►My Master Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist
What was this? What was this your life had come to? You weren't upset, you weren't mad, maybe a little afraid and full of adrenaline as the plane landed, but what was this feeling. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, let alone a piece of your brain. A blanket of sand coated your boot the moment you stepped foot onto the ground. It was that moment you realized, one, there was no keeping these things clean, and two, this was really happening.
Sitting in the back of the vehicle after your briefing you head to your post, looking around you everything in, no idea what was to come, who you were going to meet, let alone the kind of people you were going to encounter. Everything was such a rush, and it caused your heart to beat so loudly in your chest you could hear it as if it was in your head.
Upon arriving you were greeted by a few random low ranked people, but it was the captain that caught the attention of you and the rest of the soldiers. Sure there were other females, but not very many, but he picked up on you right away. It was your typical speech. You know the "Don't be a dumbass, don't get shot, don't do blah blah blah..." But in standing there, you felt the tension, but maybe it was your own tension.
In your mind, sure he was handsome in that... way... that bend be over the desk, pound me into next week spank my ass pat my head and call me a good girl for a night kinda way, but let's face it, it had been a while since you've had... company and it had been a long while since you've had enjoyed some good quality company. But right now, that needed to be pushed farthest from your mind.
"I said... fall out." Syverson stated looking at you.
Looking around you clear your throat and shake your head do just that. Had you really zoned everything out? Seems like it. With a clench of your jaw you head to your post and settle onto the cot you were assigned to and get a few things situated.
New day, time for a new take on how all of this was going to go. Simple work it was right now anyway, but you were going to be working closely with Syverson. Great. You had no idea how any of this was going to go. But it didn't take long for you to realize just how much of a pain in the ass he was going to be.
"Well, you're female, you know how to make a good cup of coffee?" he asked, joking, mildly.
Rolling your eyes, you look at him. "You know, I hate coffee, so no." Okay maybe a mild lie, but still, none the less, you weren't wanting to deal with his jokes.
"Well then looks like you'll need to find a new post." He chuckled.
With a slight sigh, you place his coffee on the table and look at him and shaking your head you take a seat. "What is on the agenda for the day, Sir?" You ask.
Looking at you he points to a large stack of papers. Papers? What the fuck? You look at him with this look of seriously? But you sit down and he shakes his head. "Jesus don't take it so literal... you think I want you to do paperwork that isn't even mine? I don't even do paperwork. Let's go." He sighs and heads out to the squad outside the tent and calls for them.
After a short briefing on what's expected today, he looks at you "Does that answer your question?" He smirked.
Oh if looks could kill. "Kill em with kindness." you hear in your head, something your mother and teachers would say. You simply nod, give a very blank smirk and lick your lips. "Yes...Sir." You state flatly as you fall out and walk in the other direction.
It was a cluster fuck to say the least, the tension over this first week had only grown thicker and a little hard to ignore. Most people picked up on it and had joked and jested about it. How you had a crush on him, but yet they didn't joke or jest toward him having a crush either. What the fuck? So, it was always you that had the crush? Fuck that! He was annoying, arrogant, self-absorbed, entitled, and to be honest, he was a bit of a beef cake.
it put a sour taste in your mouth, just because you were a woman meant you were the root of all evil, you were the one who had the crush, and you were the one that was going to pollute his mind. You'd pollute his mind, but not because you were trying to, but because he was the one with the crush. He was the one that wanted you. He was the one that polluted his own mind.
Sure, maybe as time went on you and him would see eye to eye, but right now, you wanted to poke him in the eye... with the end of your grenade pin and hand him the grenade and walk away. Little did you know that would all change. You'll just have to wait and see.
#cpt syverson imagine#syverson x you#syverson imagine#captain syverson#captain sy x reader#captain syverson fluff#captain syverson angst#captain syverson smut#captain syverson x reader#captain syverson x you#captain syverson x female reader#captain syverson drabble#Smutty Smut Smut#Smut Under The Cut#syverson fanfiction#henry cavill#Henry Cavill Sand Castle#sand castle#my writing#my oc#my fanfic stuff#my fanfiction#my story#my fanfic writing#fan fiction#fanfiction#VoxMortuus
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Title - His last wish
Pairing - Sy x reader
Warnings - Angst, smut, stillborn
Note - This one’s long and holds an element of things that I’d say are personal to me. It was therapeutic to write but a bit deep so consider that a warning. Also had it sitting in drafts for ages so not the best with proofreading!
Summary - Reader returns home after ten years still holding onto a deep burden. She’s home to see her dying grandfather but is worried about crossing paths with the one who broke her heart.
It had been ten years since you’d returned home. Ten years since you left to chase your dream of becoming a doctor. And ten years since your heart was crushed into a million pieces when your first love told you “We’re going in different directions”. You’d managed to stay away this long - your family understanding your turmoil and agreeing to visit you in the city instead. But now here you were standing on your parents doorstep after they called and begged you to come. Your beloved grandfather was dying and had asked to see you.
“Honey! Oh honey!” Your mother opened the door and pulled you into her arms. “What on earth? You said your plane was arriving at midday! We were coming to pick you up from the airport!”
“I took an earlier flight Mum. I didn’t want you driving”. You smiled as your mother kissed you on the forehead. Truth being, you did it on purpose. Wanting to avoid the airport greetings knowing that you could very well bump into Sy since the military base was close by and he had a habit of visiting the airport’s cafe.
“Your Dad will be cross”. Your mother smoothed down her apron and as you breathed in the scent of fresh apple pie.
“No he won’t”. You pulled your suitcase inside. “When has he ever been mad at me?”
“Honey …” Your mother held you at arms length as she smoothed down your hair like she did when you were a child. “Thank you for being here. It will make him happy .. I know it’s hard for you”.
“Mum ..” You swallowed and recited your well rehearsed speech. “I was nineteen years old. Young and stupid .. don’t worry I’m passed it”.
“I’m your mother, I know you love. I know what you went through”.
“It’s the past Mum. I’m here for granddad and for all of you”.
Your mother studied your face before she sighed. She rubbed your shoulder and gestured towards the upstairs guest room.
“I won’t .. shock him will I?”
“No but your father is in with him”. Your mother smiled. “You’ll shock him no doubt”.
Your eyes flickered to the locket your mother was wearing, the one that matched your own around your neck. Your heart clenched knowing that the same photo was inside and for a moment you wondered if you’d made the right choice in coming home.
Your mother looked down at the locket and then back at you. She smiled softly.
“I’ve never taken it off”.
“Neither have I”. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I just .. I wonder a lot .. and I just think .. did I do something? Was I to blame? I know that’s stupid .. but I still think like that”.
“Honey .. never ever .. just ..” Your mother grabbed your face as her eyes filled with tears. “You did nothing wrong. I was there .. I know”.
“Oh Mum”. You hugged your mother as you cried softly. Her hands rubbed your back while she hummed softly in your ear in a bid to comfort your broken heart.
“Take your time love. Just breathe ok? Everything’s alright. You’re the strongest person I know darling. Such a brave nineteen year old and now look at you. Twenty nine and a doctor. Honey I’m so very proud of you”.
“Thank you Mum”. You wiped at your face. “Sorry for being so emotional. It’s just .. being back here. Knowing Sy’s here. It’s brought up so many deep feelings and memories”.
“I know love. We appreciate you being here and I promise you that we will look after you ok?”
“Thanks mum”. You glanced at the stairs. “I’m going to go see him now ok?”
“Alright love. I’ll finish fixing your room”.
You paused at the bottom of the stairs before walking up slowly. You stared at the timber door to your left and your hand traced over the handle before knocking twice then opening it slowly. You smiled at the look of surprise on your fathers face. He was sitting in a chair next to your grandfathers bed. He jumped up quickly, causing your grandfather to open his eyes.
“What are you doing here! Did I miss your flight? I didn’t doze off?”
“No Dad! I got in earlier”. You laughed quietly as your father hugged you before kissing your cheeks. You waved at your grandfather who was blowing you a kiss. “Hi Grandpa. I came to see you”.
“Look at you”. Your grandfather beckoned you over and you rushed to the side of the bed to grab his hands. “There’s my girl”.
“I missed you Grandpa. Im going to be here for a few weeks ok? So don’t you worry about anything”.
“Im glad sweetheart. These doctors tell me I’ve only got a few weeks but what do they know?” Your grandfather smiled. “You’re the only doctor I trust”.
“And im here to look after you”.
Your grandfather nodded as he lay his head back against the pillows. His fingers touched the locket around your neck.
“Im going to see him soon sweetheart”.
Your heart ached and you nodded. You saw your father wipe his face.
“I know”.
“Im going to look after him for you”.
“I know grandpa”. Your lip trembled. “Thank you”.
“Wyatt”. Your grandfather whispered.
“Wyatt”. You whispered as your grandfather closed his eyes, sleeping in soft breaths. You saw your father quietly leave the room, giving you time alone. When the door closed you lay your head on the bed next to your grandfathers arm.
Wyatt .. you repeated over and over. Your baby boy born at only 26 weeks that took one breath. He had been your savior throughout your heartbreak over losing Sy. When you found out you were pregnant Sy had already been deployed. You found out he wouldn’t be home for 12 months and was in a restricted area so you had no way of contacting him. You planned on telling him .. bringing Wyatt to him. You just had no way of knowing that you would lose him. And then you found out that Sy had a new girlfriend … actually many new girls. So you decided not to burden him with the memory of a son that he never got to meet. Was it wrong? Maybe. But you were young and broken.
The days that followed you spent looking after your grandfather. You were glad you came because the time you spent with him were therapeutic. You went through old family movies and photo albums .. his health was deteriorating rapidly but he was also smiling.
“Sweetheart?”
“Yes Grandpa?” You paused as you were reading him a passage of a book.
“Go see that boy of yours”.
“Sy? He’s not my boy Grandpa. It’s best kept in the past”.
“For me? I just want you to have peace”.
“I have peace Grandpa”. You paused. “There’s no use in bringing up all that hurt. He’s moved on, I’ve moved on”.
“What about Wyatt?”
“What good would that do now Grandpa? I tried to tell him but he was gone you know that. Then it ., happened and .. it was too late”.
“It’s never too late sweetheart”. Your grandpa patted your knee. “You are still hurting”.
“So why hurt him? After ten years?”
“You know why .. the same reason you tried to tell him in the beginning”. Your grandfather paused. “Because he has a right to know”.
“What right Grandpa?” Tears stung your eyes. “He left me. I was nineteen and in love with him! Then I came back after losing Wyatt and he was with every girl he could find! Like I was nothing!”
“Love .. you’re still hurt. Can’t you see that?” Your grandfather stared at you. “Just promise me that you’ll talk to him if your paths cross. You don’t have to search him out .. if fate has it then that’s another story”.
You chewed on your bottom lip as you looked at your grandfather. You couldn’t say no so you nodded.
“If our paths cross ..”
Your grandfather smiled and motioned for you to continue reading. You sighed and settled back into the armchair as you tried to forget about Sy.
3 weeks later your Grandfather passed away peacefully. You felt heartbroken yet content that you had such cherished time with him. The funeral was held a week later and he was laid to rest. You spent that afternoon helping your mother serve afternoon tea to the people that were at the service. Extended family and friends that came to pay their respects.
“Honey can you please put on another pot of coffee?” Your mother asked you. You nodded and headed into the kitchen. As you waited for the coffee to brew you felt a presence behind you. Your hands griped the counter as you breathed in the scent of spice that you knew so well. Your knees almost buckled but you willed yourself not to turn around. Not now, today of all days.
“Been awhile”.
There was no mistaking that Texas accent. You breathed in deeply and tucked some of your brown hair behind your ear. Instinctively your hand moved to your locket. You could do this .. surely you could do this. You breathed in deeply and slowly turned around.
“Hello Sy”.
“Hello Sugar”. His eyes stared at you intensely. “Been ten years hasn’t it?”
“Yes”.
“You look different .. still pretty as hell but real different”.
“I’m not a teenager anymore”. You swallowed as you took in his muscular physique. “Neither are you”.
“Turned 30 last month, can you believe it?” Sy scratched at his beard, something that was new to you.
“20th of July”.
“You remember?”
“Course”.
“Well I remember yours too .. hard to forget”.
Your face flushed remembering how you lost your virginity to him when you were 16 on your birthday.
“Yeah ..”
“I’m sorry about your Pa”. Sy breathed in deeply. “He was a good man”.
“Thank you. Yes he was”.
“He was .. hoping you’d spend some time here. I bet he was happy to see you”.
“You spoke to him?” You studied Sy’s face.
“Well I …” Sy paused.
“When?”
Just turn as your mother came in. She stoped dead in her tracks when she saw you standing with Sy. She smiled and pointed to the pot of coffee which you passed to her.
“Hello Sy. Thank you for coming”. Your mother glanced between the two of you.
“I’m sorry for your loss Mam”. Sy stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.
“Thank you dear. I’ll uh .. leave you to it”.
Your mother left and an uncomfortable silence filled the room. You looked at Sy but he looked as unsure as you felt. You cleared you throat and wondered what to say but just as you opened your mouth Sy spoke.
“I should go. Just came to pay my respects”.
“Oh ok”.
“It was real nice seeing you”.
Before you could react he walked out. For a moment you stood still, digesting what had just happened. Then you heart started pounding and before you could think you charged out of the kitchen and followed Sy out of the house. How dare he just show up like that. How dare he act like nothing had happened between you both?
“Wait!” You saw him turn around in surprise. You knew this was wrong. You were too emotional and part of you knew you should just go back in the house but you couldn’t help yourself. You matched right up to Sy and pushed at his chest with both your hands as hard as you could. “Why the hell are you here? Why? Today of all days!”.
“I told you I came to pay my respects!” Sy grabbed hold of your wrists as you pounded at his chest. “Just calm down”.
“I’m not going to calm down!”.
“Just listen to me!”
“No! You fucking left me!” You screamed. “You left me and never looked back! You chose the army over me and never even cared to see how I was!”
“I did what was best for you!”
“Best for me?” You laughed through your tears. “You were what was best for me you idiot”.
“You’re a doctor! That’s what you wanted and I was holding you back”. Sy let go of your wrists slowly.
“Right! You knew what was best. You just wanted to be a bachelor huh? I was holding you back”.
“Thats not true”.
“Fucked half of the town haven’t you?”
“Now you listen ..” Sy raised his voice.
“I tried .. I tried to reach you”. You sobbed causing Sy’s eyes to widen I shock. “Came back after and you were too busy playing the field ..”
“I was in Afghanistan for a year”. Sy’s voice softened. “You tried to reach me?”
“I tried .. I couldn’t ..” Your hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. “I tried ..” You gasped for air.
“You needed me?”
“I .. needed you”. You could barely make out his face through your tears. His hands gripped your shoulders. “I didn’t know what to do .. I was nineteen Sy. I was so scared ..”
“What are you trying to tell me? Whatever it is .. tell me”.
“I didn’t know what to do Sy”. You were choking out your words between sobs. “I didn’t know what to do”.
“Tell me ..”
“I found out .. I was pregnant”. You gripped his shirt so hard that your knuckles turned white. “I was having your baby”.
“What? You ..” Sy’s eyes searched yours. “You were .. pregnant?”
“Yes”.
“I’m .. I’m a father?”
“I was nineteen. I needed you”. You struggled to speak. “He .. he …”
“A boy?”
“Wyatt .. I lost him. I lost him Sy”. You felt his body go rigid for a moment. He was wiping your face, trying desperately to understand you.
“Lost him?”
“I .. he came early”. You felt his hands cup your face. “Twenty six weeks .. I had him but he didn’t make it”.
Sy pulled you against his chest. It started to rain but neither of you moved. The water soaked through your clothing but you were transfixed .. sobbing against Sy’s chest. Your heart ached the same way it did when Wyatt laid on your chest and took his only breath. Your heart ached when your mother held you and told you he had gone. It all came back just like it was happening all over again.
“I’m sorry”. Sy whispered against your wet hair. “I’m so sorry Sugar”.
“So am I”.
He held you against his chest as your vision blurred. You were vaguely aware of his arms holding you up and then everything went black. You thought you could hear your mothers screams, but maybe it was your imagination?
You woke up in your bed. The first thing you thought was that you must have dreamed everything. But then you noticed your wet black dress in the clothes hamper and then Sy sitting on a chair in your room. He had dry clothes on and they looked like your fathers.
“Sy?”
“Yeah I’m here”. Sy looked up from his hands. “I’ll go get your Ma …”
“It’s ok .. just wait”. You glanced under the covers and saw that you were wearing sweatpants and a t shirt.
“Your Ma changed you .. you fainted outside”.
“Oh .. I’m sorry”.
“Don’t be”. Sy looked at you and you could see the sadness in his eyes. “You’ve had a hard day”.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you .. I shouldn’t have come after you like that”. You swallowed. “I shouldn’t have told you like that”.
“Doesn’t matter now”. Sy smiled softly. “You’ve been through a lot .. I’d take your anger a thousand times over if it would make you feel better”.
“Just seeing you again .. “
“Forget it now. I’m just .. glad I know”. Sy stared at the ground. “Can I ask you some things? If you’re up to talking that is?”
“Ok”.
“You wanted to tell me that you were having my baby?”
The way he said “my baby” tugged at your heart. You nodded.
“Came back home and went to the base. They told me you were deployed for a year”.
“What were you thinking then?”
“I was going to have the baby then when you came back .. tell you. I was going to see if you wanted us”.
“Wanted you both? You thought I wouldn’t?” Sy looked at you as his voice broke. “That I’d turn you away?”
“I wasn’t sure how you felt about me .. but I knew you would want to know Wyatt”.
“Jesus”. Sy rubbed his face. “You don’t have a clue how much I loved you do you? I pushed you to take that scholarship because you were smart and you deserved more that this town could offer. I wanted that for you because I loved you”. Sy paused. “I would have taken you back in a heartbeat though .. I mean that .. killed me to let you go”.
Silence filled the room. You watched as Sy’s chest rose and fell.
“Oh”.
“Tell me .. about him if you can”. Sy glanced at you. “Can you?”
“What do you want to know Sy?”
“He was .. born in a hospital?”
“Yes. I went into labor early but at the time I didn’t think so .. thought it was a false alarm”. You swallowed. “My Mum was with me. One minute everything’s ok then they were telling me that he was in distress and I had to push”.
“You would have been so scared”.
“I was .. I wanted to keep him inside of me for longer. I knew he was coming too early”. You felt your hands shake. “He was .. so perfect but so tiny Sy. He just .. wasn’t strong enough and he ..”
“It’s ok”. Sy looked at you sadly. “I’m sorry you had to go through that .. I wish I had of been there”.
“He looked like you Sy”. You reached for a tissue on the nightstand. “So much”. You reached behind your neck to unclasp your locket. You handed it to Sy. “There’s a photo of him in there. It’s only small but it’s my favourite”.
You watched as Sy opened your locket. He stared at the photo inside for what seemed like eternity. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and he repeated this a few times.
“So small ..” He spoke the words to himself out loud. “I can’t believe that .. we made him. He’s just .. perfect”.
“I know”.
“Did you .. think after .. to tell me?”
“I came back a few months after because I heard you were home. I had every intention .. i went for a walk with my dad along the beach and I saw you ..” You chewed on your bottom lip as you fidgeted with the blanket. “You were with a girl .. actually you were with all your army friends .. playing volleyball but you were kissing a girl”.
“Oh”. Sy’s cheeks reddened at the memory. “I uh .. started seeing her for a bit. Didn’t last long”.
“Yeah so well I … didn’t want to ruin your life. Made sense at the time to me. I was young and thought why tell you? Wyatt was gone and you looked happy”.
“Sugar ..” Sy swallowed. “I wasn’t happy .. I was just trying to move on”.
“I saw you kissing her Sy .. you were different with me. You were all over her”. You sighed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You were young too .. probably just enjoying not being tied down”.
“It wasn’t like that at all”.
“Like I said .. we were both young. Too young”. You saw Sy open his mouth then close it. There seemed nothing much more to say. The past was the past and neither of you could change anything.
“Was he .. was he ..” Sy stammered but somehow you knew what he was trying to say.
“He’s buried here … not far from where my Grandfather is”. You paused as your eyes flickered to Sy’s. “Do you want to go with me?”
“Yes .. yes I do”. Sy breathed out deeply. “And if .. if you have more photos?”
“My mum has an album that I made her. I’ll get it for you”. You watched as Sy nodded. Your heart felt constricted seeing how much pain he was in. Yet at the same time the weight in your shoulders was lifting. You closed your eyes for a moment thinking of Wyatt .. with great love came great pain.
The next few weeks were a blur. You spent countless days with Sy at Wyatt’s grave just talking. Which was nice because you also visited your grandfather and grandma too. But in the past seeing Wyatt’s tombstone was such a painful experience, but now with Sy it felt different. He sat next to you cross legged on the grass listening to every single detail about Wyatt’s existence. You told him everything from the beginning - how you found out, your morning sickness, your cravings for nachos and roast pumpkin. He listened .. almost intrigued as you opened your heart to him. After awhile it wasn’t just Wyatt that you talked about .. he told you about his deployments and all the terrors that came with his job. He told you about his parents divorce and also about his relationships since you.
“I’ve had a date here and there but nobody ..” You chewed on your bottom lip. “I was too busy getting into med school I guess?”
“No wealthy doctor tried to steal your heart?” Sy smiled.
“No”.
“Just for the record .. all those years ago .. the one you saw me with on the beach”. Sy paused. “She was someone I guess I tried to use to get over you. Now saying that out loud makes me feel really bad .. but I just needed to tell ya ok?”
“Sy .. it was so long ago”.
“I know .. but since we’re being honest”.
“I appreciate that”. You smiled softly. “My teenage self wanted to kick your ass though”.
“Don’t know what I would have done if I had of seen you that day ..”
“Guess we’ll ever know”. You played with a blade of grass as the sun started to set. “We should head back?”
“Do you wanna go some place first?”
You looked at Sy .. he suddenly didn’t seem like he was a 30 year old grown man. He reminded you of the Sy you once knew. Your Sy. He seemed apprehensive and a bit unsure of himself.
“Ok”. You let him help you to your feet and followed him to your truck.
Sy took you to a place you’d missed. A hill with a city view. The same place he’d kissed you for the first time. You felt your face flush at the memory and wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Your heart hammered against your chest and then you had to quickly turn turn your head before the emotion on your face showed.
“The sunset is nice here” Sy said as you tried to keep your breathing even.
“Come here often?” You turned to him and smiled.
“Only with you”. Sy stared at you. “And it’s been a few years”.
“I remember ..”
“You were sixteen”. Sy paused. “I was so fucking nervous ..”
“You were?”
“Course I was .. I knew it was going to be your first kiss. I wanted it to be special”.
“Sy ..” Your voice caught in your throat. “You shouldn’t have worried because everything with you was special”.
Sy stared at the beautiful sunset while you looked at his side profile. He was so different from the boy you once knew. He was a man .. a muscular man with a beard who was sure of himself in so many ways. But he was still Sy.
Slowly you reached for his hand and covered it with yours.
“We were just two kids Sy”.
“We were”.
“So much time has passed”.
“It has”. Sy turned to look at you. “But I’ll always love you. I’ll never love anyone but you”.
“Sy ..” You sucked in a breath.
“I wish things were different. I’d fucking do anything to re write the past. You have to believe me”. Sy turned his head and you knew him well enough to know that he was trying to hide his tears.
“Look at me Sy”. You watched as you saw his eyes filled with tears. Your hand reached to his cheek. “Oh Sy I’ve never loved anyone but you. And I’m so glad .. so very glad that it was you that was Wyatt’s daddy”. Your eyes filled with tears as you felt the wetness of Sy’s tears on your hand.
“I’m sorry”. He whispered. “I’m sorry that you lost your baby .. our baby”.
“I’m sorry too”.
He moved towards you and you waited. His eyes looked exactly how you remembered them, except his hands were different. Bigger, stronger .. they cupped your face as you inched closer.
“Stop me. Tell me you don’t want me .. tell me that you don’t have any feelings for me”. Sy’s lips were on your forehead, his breath hot against your skin. “Tell me now Sugar and I’ll drive you home”.
“I can’t Sy .. I can’t tell you that .. because it would be untrue”. Ten years of heartache and you were now at this point.
You heard him suck in a breath then his strong hands moved your neck up until you are looking at him. Your hands gripped the front of his t shirt and you willed yourself to stop shaking.
“I missed you”. Sy whispered just before his lips found yours. It wasn’t like the first time at all. His lips moved with purpose. His hands were now at the back of your neck, caught in your hair as his mouth opened and his tongue sought yours. This was a different Sy. He was older, experienced and wiser. You gasped into his mouth as his once tentative tongue was anything but. His hand moved to the small of you back, pulling you closer in the confined space of his truck.
“Sy .. I ..” You moaned as you broke apart for sure. “I missed you too”.
You missed ten years. You missed everything about him. You were scared but at ease too .. you wanted him to repair your fragile broken heart.
“Sy take me back to your place”.
Suddenly he was pulling back and looking into your eyes.
“I don’t need anything more. I just .. kissing you ..”
“I do .. I need you Sy”. Your lips trembled. “Please just .. don’t leave me this time”.
Your heart beat in anticipation as Sy stared into your eyes for what seemed like eternity. He slowly nodded before leaning over you to pull at your seat belt and buckle you in. As he moved back across you his breath passed your ear and you knew that he was just as needy as you were.
The drive back to Sy’s apartment was silent. His hand rested on your knee as you watched the city lights pass you by. Without thinking you fidgeted with the locket around your neck, immediately thinking of your son. But for some reason, this time you didn’t feel the usual ache in your heart. You felt at ease.
Soo you were inside his apartment. Sy was watching as you walked around his living room glancing at photographs and the medals/trophies he had on display. You felt nervous. Not that you didn’t want to be there with him, but because you didn’t know how to initiate things.
“Sugar?” Sy smiled softly at you when you turned around. “You ok?”
“Yeah I’m just nervous. I don’t know how to .. do this”.
“This?” Sy smirked. “We don’t have to do anything”.
“I want to .. I just .. It’s been a long time Sy. I just need ..” You stammered. “I need you to take the lead”.
“I didn’t want to assume anything .. that’s not what this is for me”.
“I feel the same”. You watched as he walked over to you. Suddenly his hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his hard body.
“I’m happy to take the lead Sugar”. Sy’s voice was slightly rough, sending an ache between your thighs.
“Then take me”.
Sy suddenly lifted you up and your legs wrapped around his waist. He carried you to his room, kicking the door shut with his foot. His eyes were transfixed to yours and you could feel his heart beating quickly against your own.
He placed you on his bed gently and stood Infront of you. He pulled his t shirt off in one motion and you felt your mouth drop open at the sight of him. Ten years ago he was lean yet now .. he was a fit man with a large muscular frame and chest hair. He smirked before removing his jeans and before you could react he took his boxers off too. You gasped and flushed when you saw the sight of his rock hard erection standing firm against his stomach. He seemed huge compared to how you remembered him.
“Your turn”. Sy’s hands grabbed at the fabric of your skirt and soon it was on the floor. You hastily tossed your t shirt over your head followed by your white lace bra. You watched as Sy took in your naked form before his eyes settled on your white lace panties. “You’re fucking perfect Sugar”.
“I’m not”. You whispered as he moved over your body, keeping his weight on his forearms as he kissed you. “I’ve changed”.
“You’re beautiful .. you’re not a girl anymore love. You’re a woman and you’re perfect”.
“I have ..” You stammered. “Stretch marks .. from the pregnancy”.
“Where?”
You face flushed but you pointed to your lower stomach where the small white lines existed. You gasped when Sy moved lower and his lips kissed every one of them.
“You’re beautiful and these … are a reminder of him. I wouldn’t change them for anything”. Sy whispered against your skin.
“Sy …” your eyes filled with tears as he continued to cherish you. After a few minutes he slipped your underwear off and settled between your legs. He smiled at you reassuringly before gently opening your thighs.
“Let me love you”. Sy kissed your inner thighs causing you to tremble. “Relax Sugar”.
You sunk back against his pillows as you remembered how you both had to learn how to please each other. You smiled at how inexperienced Sy was back then and how he’d constantly ask you if he was making you feel good with each swipe of his tongue. But now … this was a different Sy as he held you thighs open with both hands. His tongue sucked on your clit, and he didn’t ask you a single thing before he pushed a finger inside you.
“Oh Sy .. oh”. You were shocked at how good he made you feel. He clearly knew what he was doing as he alternated between sucking, licking and pumping not one but two fingers inside you.
“You gonna cum for me Sugar?”
You face burned. This wasn’t the boy you knew. Sy had never communicated much during your intimate moments, yet this Sy was very vocal.
“Sy”.
One of his hands held your lower stomach to stop you from moving while his mouth sucked on your clit. Suddenly his fingers curled inside you and you arched your back. You felt heat pool in your stomach and you swore that you saw stars as you called out his name over and over again.
When you came to a moment later, Sy was still between your legs. He was looking up at you but his fingers were still moving inside you, riding out every last bit of pleasure. You watched as he looked between your legs and you fought the urge to close them.
“Don’t ..” Sy stared at you. His eyes were dark and he licked his lips before looking between your legs again. “Wanna see you Sugar. I’ve … Jesus I’ve fantasized about this for years”.
“Sy ..” Your face was heated as your eyes fell to his other hand which was fisting his cock as he touched you. “Sy .. oh god Sy .. feels so good”.
“I could cum just like this. Just watching me touch your pussy”.
“Sy!” You gasped. He had never talked dirty to you before.
“Don’t deny you like it .. I felt you clench on my fingers love”. Sy smirked.
“Can I touch you?” You whispered. Sy nodded before withdrawing his fingers. He held your gaze as he put his fingers in his mouth.
“You taste so good”.
“Lie down”. You smiled and shook your head as you changed positions. You leaned over him and kissed his lips softly. “Where’s my shy inexperienced Sy?”
“Long gone baby”. Sy smiled.
You laughed as you reached for his cock. He groaned as you moved your hand up and down his shaft like you used to do. You explored him slowly before watching as Sy spat on his hand and rubbed himself before replacing your hand with his. You were shocked but his reaction at the feel of your hand with the lubrication made you ache between you legs.
“That’s it love .. oh god yeah just like that”. Sy moaned. He had his eyes closed, head thrown back. Hesitantly you moved your hand to his base before lowering your mouth on him. You struggled with oral and you felt embarrassed to tell Sy that he was the last person you were with. You had no clue if you could make him feel good. Your doubts were gone the second you heard him gasp.
“Jesus! Oh god baby ..” Sy glanced down at you in shock. “You don’t have to .. oh fuck”.
You started to bob your head while your hand worked on him. Your clit throbbed at the sounds he made and the profanities thar left his mouth.
“Fuck baby ..” His hand moved to your head and gently applied pressure. You quickly looked at him and released him with a pop.
“Sy I haven’t been with anyone since you .. I’m not sure ..I just wanted you to know”. You muttered. “I just ..I want to make you feel good”.
Sy opened and closed his mouth before his thumb grazed your cheek. You could tell that he was lost for words. Ten years was a long time after all. You’d had a few dates here and there, some kisses and a few heavy make out sessions with a college of yours. But nothing further. Something always held you back.
You held Sy’s gaze as your mouth engulfed him again and this time Sy’s hand tangled in your hair while he gently helped you find a rhythm. He sat up slightly to watch you and the whole time he muttered praises.
“God that’s it baby. Jesus your mouth .. look at me, don’t take your eyes off me Sugar”.
You stared at him and your confidence grew along with the arousal pooling between your legs.
“God you’re beautiful .. so fucking beautiful”. Sy gently moved your mouth off him and sat up to kiss you passionately. He whispered in your ear that he was close and needed to be inside you.
He moved you onto your back and kissed you as he pulled his body on top of yours. You were kissing him back and so completely lost in the sensations that you were feeling.
“Sugar just a sec”. Sy lent across you and pulled open a draw. You realised he was getting a condom. You were glad that he was responsible but also a little bit hurt to know that he had used them with other women. Sy opened the packet with his teeth and you watched as he sat back between your legs and rolled the condom on. He looked up at you and noticed your expression. “You ok?”
“You .. have a big box of those”.
“Guess so”. Sy rubbed your hips gently.
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud”.
“It’s ok Sugar. But I can’t apologize for anyone after you .. I had no idea back then that I’d ever be with you again. I thought it was over for good”.
“I hate the thought of you with anyone else”. You paused. “I hate the thought of you using those with anyone else”.
“And I don’t want anyone else but you”. Sy lent forward to kiss you. “You still want me?”
“Course I do”. Your hands wrapped around his neck as he kissed you deeply. You felt him rub his cock up and down your opening before the tip moved inside you.
“Keep your eyes on me”. Sy’s fingers moved to your clit as he pushed into you gently. “That’s it Sugar. Oh Jesus you feel so good”.
“Sy”. Your eyes went wide as your body struggled to remember the act. You felt your walls tense as you willed yourself to relax.
Sy was halfway in when he moved to bring his mouth to your breast. He sucked on your nipple while his fingers moved in circles on your clit. You started to moan as you threw your head back. He seemed to know exactly what you needed. Gone was the awkward Sy you once knew. Once he felt you relax he pushed completely inside you inch by inch.
“Sy!”
His mouth left your breast and found your lips. He sucked on your bottom one before you opened your mouth and to your surprise he pushed his tongue into your mouth, mimicking the act between your bodies. You could feel his pubic hair flush against your bare skin as he ground his hips into you. You marveled in the feeling.
“You’re so tight .. god I’ve missed you”. Sy leaned back to look at you. “You ok?”
“More than ok”.
“You tell me if it’s too much .. I don’t wanna hurt you”.
“It doesn’t hurt Sy .. I just .. you feel so big”. You flushed.
“Yeah?”
You watched him smirk before he kissed you again. His lips moved to your ear.
“Gonna make you scream my name baby”.
Slowly he thrusted into you before pulling all the way out and thrusting back inside. Your hands clutched fistfuls of his sheets and you started moaning. He was playing you like an instrument.
“You like that Sugar? Gonna make you cum on my cock”.
Your toes curled as he continued to whisper dirty things on your ear. Your hands felt the way that his muscular back rippled before moving to his shoulders then his biceps. You realized then that you loved his arms. They were so strong and you couldn’t wrap your hand around them. He was very much a grown man now.
“Sy .. god you feel good inside me”.
“You feel like heaven”. Sy thrusted deeply into you as his hand moved to grip behind your knee, pushing your leg up higher so that he had better access. You couldn’t believe how deep he was. He was touching a part of you that felt so good. Your whole body started to feel like it was on fire.
“Right there Sy!”
“Yeah? Right there baby?” Sy hit the magic spot over and over again. “Need to feel you Sugar .. need to feel you cum”
You were struggling to breath, no words left your mouth as the most intense orgasm overcame you. You started shaking and your mouth opened to scream but for a moment there was a delay before you cried out. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears as Sy kept thrusting into you. In your haze you watched him - sweat glistening on his chest, his muscles contracting in his huge shoulders and the words spilling from his lips made you even wetter if that was possible.
“I love fucking you .. god how I love you”.
You felt your heart explode as you watched Sy chase his orgasm. His hands moved both your legs over his shoulders and you felt him slide even deeper inside of you. The initial shock of the position he had you in quickly turned to intense pleasure as he touched a sensitive spot deep inside you. His hands found yours and he interlaced your fingers with his as he neared his release. A few deep thrusts and he exploded inside of you. He let out the most manly, almost animalistic sound as his hands moved your legs off his shoulders and his head dropped to you chest. Your hands stroked his back as he continued to thrust shallowly into you and empty ever drop of his release.
You held onto him as you struggled to catch your own breath and you hoped that Sy would need a moment to recover. You wanted to stay exactly the way that you were for as long as possible.
“I love you” You whispered softly. “Just in case you didn’t know”.
“I know Sugar .. nothings changed”. Sy’s mouth was hot against your skin before he kissed your cleavage then traced your nipple with his tongue. Heat instantly rushed to your face. You didn’t want to know where Sy leant the things he was doing to you .. he certainty wasn’t this way ten years ago. But part of you was thankful that you got to experience it with him now. You were amazed that even after such passionate love making that he was still attentive to your body. Still trying to draw out ever bit of pleasure from you.
“Sy”. You breathed into his hair as his mouth moved to your other nipple and his fingers traced your other bud.
“Hush Sugar”. Sy smirked against your skin. “I missed these”.
“Now I know why all the ladies want you Sy”.
“Why’s that?” Sy looked up at you before he rolled you both to your sides with him still inside.
“I don’t know what happened .. well I know but .. Sy you’re good .. so good in bed”. You blushed.
“Thank you Mam but I’m all yours Sugar. If you’ll have me”.
“I want you .. I can’t go back to before .. not after this ..”
“Then don’t”.
“You want me?”
“All of you” Sy smiled at you before moving out of your body slowly. You watched as he went to the bathroom and returned with a warm hand towel. You wondered what he was doing when he parted your thighs and started to clean you.
“What? Sy ..”
“Shhhh Sugar ..”
“Sy”. You winced slightly, knowing that years of abstinence would probably mean you wouldn’t walk straight the next day.
“You sore love?”
“Just worked muscles that haven’t been used in a long time Sy”.
“I wasn’t too rough?”
“No Sy. You were perfect”.
“Ok baby. You always talk to me won’t ya? Tell me if I do something you don’t like?” When you nodded he went to the bathroom to dispose of the used hand towel.
You smiled when he returned back from the bathroom and lay down next to you. He was on his back staring at the ceiling.
“What are you thinking about?”
You watched as Sy reached across to the nightstand draw and passed you an envelope. You nodded at it, indicating that he wanted you to open it.
“What’s this?” You looked at it, addressed to Sy.
“Open it”.
Slowly you did and as you clutched the paper your mouth fell open. You had to re read it.
“My grandfather sent this?”
“It came a few weeks ago .. He wanted to make sure ..”
“He asked you to come to the house after the funeral. He wanted you to see me”. You traced your finger over your grandfathers writing. “He .. wrote this when he was dying Sy”.
“He did .. and I’m glad that I kept his wish”.
“Oh Sy”. You put the envelope on the table next to you and pulled Sy down to kiss you. His hand roamed gently on your stomach and you knew Sy was thinking about Wyatt too.
“We can’t go back Sugar”
“No we can’t Sy”
“I wish we could”.
“So do I”.
“But .. even after everything .. I feel blessed right now”. Sy cupped your face. “With you, here in this moment”.
You felt lucky in so many ways. You got to see your grandfather one last time and you got to reconnect with Sy and tell him about the son you both shared. You had no idea what the future held except that you were happy .. for the first time in 10 years.
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#cpt syverson#captain sy fanfiction#fanfiction#henry cavill characters#syverson#syverson fanfiction#captain sy x reader#captain syverson#sand castle#syverson smut#new writers on tumblr#newfiction#new writter#newauthor#new author#angst with a happy ending#smut with plot#smut with feelings#smut writing#original story#childhood love#young love
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❤︎ Oh, honey
Pairing: Bartender!Captain Syverson x Reader
Summary: A first date and cowboy hats.
A/N: This sequel exists thanks to a video of two bearded men in cowboy hats line dancing to Footloose on Tiktok 🤠🧡
Part I
The next time she came into the bar, she was a little more awkward than usual. He could tell she was embarrassed about getting shitfaced and telling him all of her private business. She told him she wasn’t sure he was being sincere when he said he wanted to take her out, which made his heart crack a little. How could she not see what a catch she was and that HE would be the lucky one, should she ever give him a chance?
It took some hot tea with a generous swig of Fireball on the house, and some coaxing from Sy to get her to finally believe him. But the smile that made its way onto her lips was reward enough for him. They agreed on Saturday night, when he wasn’t scheduled to work at the Drink & Jive.
//
She wore a pair of jeans that hugged her in all the right places and a really soft-looking blouse when she stepped out of her front door. He didn’t want to tell her where they were going and told her to pick a casual outfit she would feel comfortable in. This time, the strawberry red on her lips looked just right. He had to clear his throat before speaking. “You look breathtaking honey.” And he wasn’t the only one who had trouble keeping himself from unraveling. Her voice came out breathy. “Thank you, Sy. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Which wasn’t a lie. He wore his best pair of jeans and a crisp, clean button-up with a silver triangle bolo tie. An outfit he had picked especially for her.
He opened the passenger door of his truck for her. His truck was black and looked exactly like she’d imagined his car would look like, except a lot cleaner. It looked almost like he had cleaned it for her, which made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Jogging around the front of the car Sy got into the driver’s seat and turned his body toward her, smirking, reaching for something on the back seat. Without a warning, he plopped something on top of her head and into her lap. A little startled giggle left her when she took the hat off her head and studied his offerings.
A bouquet of tulips in rustic parchment paper. A cowboy hat, in pristine white, made from incredibly soft material.
“Do you have that little confidence in the date you have planned that you have to bribe me?” The sparkle in her eyes made it clear that she was only joking but deep down he did feel a little like he needed to proof himself as a worthy partner.
“No, I know you will like it but I think you deserve to be spoiled.”
“I… Thank you, Sy.” The same breathy voice but a smile so bright it warmed up the whole inside of his truck.
//
Arriving at the destination a chuckle escaped her. “Really? Another bar, that’s where you want to go when you’re off work?”
Once they stepped inside the whole cowboy hat of it all suddenly made sense. She was standing there, her jaw nearly hitting the floor. Country music? That was one thing she did not expect Sy to be into. A room full of cowboy hats, cowboy boots, boot cut jeans and polished belt buckles. People whirling around to Hank Williams and drinking beer and whiskey.
Looking up at Sy, who now stood next to her wearing his own cowboy hat and his signature grin she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. A joyful, pearling sound that made him want to swear an oath to always find ways to keep her laughing and happy.
His warm hand on her lower back he gently steered her into the direction of the bar. “What would you like to drink honey?” The term of endearment made her cheeks feel hot and her insides all gooey. “You know I like something sweet and strong. I need some liquid courage before we get on the dance floor because I have two left feet.”
Waving down the bartender Sy ordered their drinks, standing so close to her, she could feel his body heat. “You’ll be fine honey.” Right when he said that an unassuming looking guy in a washed-out shirt and trucker hat threw his dance partner up on his shoulder, whirling the woman around, making her think of a windmill. Sy must have seen the expression on her face. Chuckling, he reassured her that they would stay with the basics.
This was different, so very different from every date she’d ever gone on. No fancy restaurant with table cloths and candle sticks, no awkwardly sitting next to each other, staring at the screen in a movie theatre. This dancing was different. No grinding, being groped with sweaty hands in a sea of bodies on a dark dance floor.
He had spent some time trying to teach her an easy two step, which she did not master but still had a lot of fun trying. Now he was just leading her around the dance floor, spinning, preventing her from running into other people, making her laugh. There was a lot of space between everyone, between them, and yet it felt like she’s never been closer to someone. His presence was calming and effortlessly bridged the gap between them.
//
At the end of the night they both were a little sweaty and tired but very happy. When is truck came to a hold in front of her house, he got out and opened the door for her, helping her out, not letting go of her hand after. Her skin was glowing under the street lights and her smile still bright when she looked up at him. “Thank you, Sy. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”
He looked at her like she was something other than just human, his eyes drifting gown to her lips. “Oh, honey. Will you let me take you out again? This is just the beginning.” Her answer was just as breathy as in the beginning of their date.
“Yes, please.”
“May I kiss you?”
“Yes, please.”
#captain syverson x reader#syverson x reader#captain syverson fic#captain syverson fluff#bartender!captain syverson#bartender captain syverson#fluff#angst#livingbreathingdreams#lemon over ice#first date#line dancing cowboys
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II Most Wanted Pt.I: And I don't know what you're doin' tonight…
Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"
Summary: The feeling and flashbacks you get when you saw your high school boyfriend Jake Syverson at your 20 year reunion was quite the unexpected twist in your orderly life.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, body image issues, flashbacks, horny teenagers doing horny things (over 18 tho) heavy petting, fingering, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of breakups, teenage mean girl behavior, the Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, mentions of drug abuse and difficult childhoods, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Explicit description of sex acts. Read at your own risk. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N: This is the first installment of II Most Wanted. This is also my first fic in nearly half a year. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-------
June 2024
The visceral reactions started as soon as you entered the parking lot. There it was, Sy’s 1978 white Ford Bronco. Not thinking, you pulled into the space right in front of it, wanting to look inside. You almost lost it when you saw the old charm hanging from the rear view mirror. You couldn’t believe he still had that.
Especially with everything that happened since you put it there.
April 2004
“I claim this ancient truck as my throne!”
You were lit and in love, parked with Sy at the lookout. You were also silly and giggly from smoke and hormones.
“Mmmmm, careful Buttercup.”
Your boyfriend growled in your ear, making you shiver against him. His attempt at menace was thwarted by the smile you felt against your neck, where he was busy marking you up, a sure sign later for everyone to know who you belonged to.
Sy was known for making bloody the face of those who expressed hate for his beloved Betty Bronco. But you had him whipped.
“It’s a classic, but I’ll let that slide...”
He wished that you would let him slide, but you were adamant that you weren’t ready to be a parent. He was adamant that that didn’t have to be the outcome, but beneath the red blooded country boy was a gentleman. Sy would never do anything you didn’t want to, not that it stopped him from trying to convince you to admit that you in fact, wanted it as much as he did.
He wasn’t wrong.
You sighed as you placed the Powerpuff Girl necklace you got from Hot Topic on Sy’s rearview as you sat on his lap, giving him a treat. He had you in his grip by the hips and he was subtly moving you against his boner. The attraction between you two was heady, and he almost got what he wanted plenty of times. But you were a romantic and wanted it to be special. You promised him prom night, and Sy couldn’t wait.
“..Driving me crazy, Baby. You can put anything on my rear view as long as you let me get your rear view in the back seat….”
You giggled.
“You’re so corny, Sy.”
You whispered as you turned your head and kissed him over your shoulder.
“Hmmmm. And you’re so sweet.”
Sy’s sea blue eyes gazed at you as he licked his lips.
He was crazy for you. And you were for him. You felt it. And you just knew you’d be together forever. You grinned as you climbed over him into the back seat. Didn’t hurt to fool around a little, even if you weren’t gonna give him the p that night.
——————
You shook out of the memory as a warm June breeze whipped your short skirt around your thighs. You pulled on the yellow and white designer dress as you contemplated driving back to your hotel and changing. This dress was not a good idea. The triumphant feeling of serving looks when you appraised yourself in the mirror was replaced with anxiety. The dress was too short and you were not the same size you were in high school. Thighs you considered pretty and thick in the mirror just an hour ago seemed massive and you tugged at the deep plunge of the neckline without a bra.
You sighed as you tried to center yourself. You told yourself that you were growing out of negative self talk, especially in the last seven years since your divorce. You were reminded of your promise to never care about the, male gaze again. It just wasn’t worth it.
But you hadn’t been under Jacob Syverson’s gaze in 20 years.
——
Sy posted up at the bar, blue eyes taking in the scene of his former classmates reuniting. He downed his two fingers of Maker’s Mark and asked for another. His heart rate was up as he scanned the room, eyes going back to the door again and again. He was waiting for you. No use in denying it to himself. He wanted to see you again, and more. It was his one objective. An objective he was unsure of attaining.
He was more nervous about being in a hotel ballroom tonight than in Afghanistan.
Christ, he felt like that 17 year old kid again who first laid eyes on you.
——-
August, 2003
Sy knew what he wanted the moment he saw your face.
You stopped the world when you first stepped into his British Literature class the first day of senior year. He was seated and talking with his best friend and wide receiver, Jeremy Atkins, when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He let the conversation about which route they should run at the scrimmage that afternoon slip as his eyes lighted on your face. You were anxious, but trying not to let it show. Those eyes held fire, and your lips…
…well your lips besides being everything he dreamt of, he just knew the words that came out of your lips would light someone up as well. He could tell you had spirit by the way you carried yourself.
Your hair was wild and shoulder length, bangs swept aside for vision, and you couldn’t hide that body under your baggy clothes. He lasered in on the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your graphic tee, and power that the strip of skin between your shirt and your baggy jeans was not lost on him. He was a 17 year old male, after all.
Sy shifted in his seat as he leaned back and grinned to himself when you scanned the room, glaring at anyone who looked askance. He tapped his pencil on the desk to try to get your attention but you just ignored him as the group of seatless students surrounding you dwindled. You were left alone under the scrutiny of soulless cretins, otherwise known as teenagers.
You gave each one brazen enough to stare at you a side eye, but you stopped when you finally noticed Sy smirking at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, causing him to choke on a chuckle.
Becca Ferguson, Sy’s girlfriend, kicked him in the leg after noticing that not only Sy, but Jeremy were openly staring at you. Shit, he’d forgotten about her. He caught the way her eyes cut over to you, and he knew what came next. He tried to distract her with a flip of the shelf of his blown out curls and a smile, something that had worked many times before.
But you were a threat to Becca now; she had to do something about you.
You raised your head high as you walked to the seat that Mrs.Beatty pointed out. You passed down the aisle between Sy and Becca, who scrunched up her face as if she smelled something bad. Sy got a whiff of you and you smelled divine, like that Sweet Pea bath gel stuff that he played off sniffing when he went to the mall with Becca.
His head turned.
Becca glared at him and he turned toward the front of the room, where the teacher had started to pass out the syllabus.
—--
June 2024
Just like lunch on the first day of school at Central High all those years ago, Carla and Tiffani engulfed you and took you under their wings when you walked into the Marriott, the venue for your reunion. They crowed over you; your hair, your dress, your glow. You forgot any anxiety that you were feeling about how you looked. These were your best friends. Your Bubbles and Blossom.
These women filled the gaping place in your heart torn open from attending 10 different schools from K-12, following your mother’s loves and whims when she didn’t take her meds, or when she self-medicated. They were your soul sisters. And you still kept in touch even though distance separated you.
Carla had that grin on her face while Tiffani expressed her excitement that you were in town.
“Girl! I am so glad that you made it!”
Tiffani was the gentle one.
“Yeah, I owe Tiff a c-note, because I was sure you’d chicken out.”
Carla laughed at you while you scowled at her.
Tiffani tskd at her bestie, and took your arm while Carla took the other and they ushered you through the doors of the ballroom.
“Well, she has a new job in town and everything, she had to come.”
“Yeah, she had to come to town, but coming tonight is a wholeeee different story.”
You laughed.
“I don’t have the job yet, Tiff. Interview is Monday. And why wouldn’t I come tonight?”
The familiar banter was back, as if 20 years was no matter at all between you and your girls.
You heard someone clear their throat behind you and Carla peered over her shoulder and then smirked at you. She jerked her head back.
“Because of that.”
You looked over your shoulder, smiling right before your stomach dropped.
There was Jake Syverson, all grown up, and staring at you as if all this time hadn’t happened.
—-
Sy saw you enter the ballroom and he almost wanted to run away. Being in country on a dangerous mission was nothing compared to the thought of actually facing you again.
At least he was trained for war.
Love was another thing entirely.
He took a deep breath as he focused on you. You had always been beautiful, but now, as a grown woman, you were absolutely gorgeous. Your hair was sleek and your face was perfectly beat with makeup that accentuated your natural beauty. You were glowing and that smile was…everything.
As he leaned on the bar and scanned the rest of your body in that dress, he took another drink. Sy indeed felt 18 again, because his body was reacting as if he were a randy teenager. Your body was everything he remembered, and more. More of everything he remembered loving and lusting over 20 years ago.
“Damn.”
He said it out loud and the bartender replied.
“Agreed, Brother.”
Sy looked at the young man admiring you who couldn’t be over 25, and threw down some money.
“Watch it, kid.”
That little bit of jealousy fueled Sy’s bravado, and he found the courage to step to you.
—--
You froze like a deer in headlights.
Over the years, you imagined seeing him again, in all different kinds of scenario, and you thought you could handle it, but the reality of the situation just about knocked you on your ass. Time stopped as you stared at him.
Sy was more handsome with age, if that was possible. His eyes, his shoulders, his hair! His gorgeous curls were short and a shock of hair was growing from his chin. Your body reacted as your traitorous brain instantly thought of how his beard would feel on certain parts of your body. He looked good in a suit, but he was massive. You had on heels, but Sy seemed bigger than you remembered. He wasn’t the lithe high school quarterback you remembered.
You unconsciously walked closer.
He was taller.
But he was also huge: bigger muscles, thicker limbs; his body seemed more powerful all the way around.
Heaven help you.
And the way he was looking at you as if he still owned you, as if all everything that happened hadn’t happened. As if all these years…
Your arms went out to Carla and Tiff beside you for some support, but they were gone, and you stumbled a bit. Sy grabbed your arm quickly as you laughed to play it off.
“Hey Buttercup. You good?”
Goodness, his voice!
How could that damn drawl be deeper and sexier than you remembered? And his touch on your skin felt familiar, yet strange, like a touch from a dream. What was happening to you?
“I need a drink.”
Sy was silent for a bit as you got your drink and had a sip. The way you licked your lips made him want to fall to his knees and beg.
—--
May 2004
“Please, please, please Buttercup. Just let me put the tip in. I promise I won’t move. It wouldn’t really be doing it…”
Sy was whispering in your ear and you were mute, waiting to hear more as your pussy pulsed in your jeans, the grind against his crotch delicious torture.
“I dream about it, Buttercup. I feel you, Baby. So fucking wet for me. I just know that it would feel so, so so good. I’d slip right in.”
It was midnight on your 18th birthday and you were in the Bronco, letting Sy feel you up under your panties for the first time. Your head was thrown back and your eyes rolled at how good it felt. You didn’t know how you would hold out. But it was just three weeks until Prom.
You were sat on his lap and he had one hand down your jeans and one up your shirt.
He pistoned his hips up, causing your back to arch against his chest. You could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.. Sy’s voice lowered to a whisper.
“‘M Gonna taste my fingers, Buttercup. Watch.”
You opened your eyes as Sy pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth. You whined when he closed his eyes and moaned. You throbbed. It had never been like this before.
“You are so delicious… Need more…”
Sy pushed his hand back down into your pants to get you to do that arch again. It sent him feral to see that for some reason.
His fingers found the source and circled it, causing your body to tense up and your fingers to grab his arms.
“Oh my god! Sy!”
You’d come close to this feeling before just grinding with him on the back seat, but this was incomparable.
Your fingernails sunk into his forearms, creating marks for sure. This fueled him even more as he continued his ministrations at your core. He toyed beneath your bra and your mouth opened to seek oxygen as the feeling in your belly continued to tune you to a fever pitch.
“Yes…. Baby….. fuck… You gonna cum on my lap?”
“Hunnnh, hunnh, hunnnh!”
“You’re so fucking hot… I’m about to jizz in my pants… cum for me, Baby…”
Sy grinded against your bottom, and you stiffened while the world’s most wonderful feeling washed over you. You cried out as Sy pinched your nipple and you came, feeling as if the Bronco was caught up in the Wizard of Oz Twister. The world was certainly now in color when you could open your eyes.
Sy held you, watching your beautiful face as you pouted and came back to earth. When you did, your smile was worth all the gold in the world to him. He kissed your temple and slipped his hand out of your pants, sucking your juices off of them again.
You were about to jump him, but Sy interrupted your thought.
“Now that you’ve got a preview of Prom night, let’s get you home, Buttercup. Gotta get your beauty sleep for the festivities later on tonight.”
—-
Sy cleared his throat after staring at you silently for a solid three minutes. The way you licked your lips clean and focused on him was some powerful magic.
“So. How have you been, Sy? How is the family?”
You tried to keep any bitterness out of your voice. The fact that Becca Spurgeon ruined your prom (and your relationship with Sy) by announcing that she was pregnant with Sy’s baby after she was crowned Prom Queen and he Prom King was something you’d tried to get over for 20 years.
Sy straightened up and looked over your shoulder. You glanced in that direction to see Carla and Tiffani hovering protectively.
“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”
——
If you like it, hit Reblog!
Next part here.
#henry cavill#henry cavil x reader#henry cavill fanfiction#captain syverson#captain sy x reader#captain syverson fanfiction#syverson fanfiction#syverson x reader#syverson smut#captain syverson smut#syverson au#captain syverson au#syverson x black!reader#captain syverson x black!reader#syverson angst#captain syverson angst#syverson imagine#captain syverson imagine#ii most wanted#II most wanted fic#henry cavill smut#Sy x Buttercup#am writing#writeblr#creative writing
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