#cpt syverson fanfic

[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 22

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: Past Sexual Harassment, Past Physical Violence, Masturbation (M)

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @athenepromachos @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019

Day 204

Leah filled an entire shopping cart with vegetables, cheese, chips and all the fixings for a massive taco feast. That was, everything except the meat. For that, they stopped at a butcher shop on the way back. Sy hadn’t expected for things to still be so domestic after his conversation with Leah over breakfast but he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Sy was sure he’d misheard Leah when she told the man she needed six flank steaks but, as it turned out, it was no mistake. The small army Leah had referred to was not much of an exaggeration. Apparently, they were expecting up to thirty people which was about half the population of Warhorse.

It was a good thing they had taken Caleb’s car instead of his rental. They wouldn’t have been able to fit the multiple cases of beer, wine, juice and soda in addition to the groceries. It was also simpler to leave anything not perishable in the car rather than hull it in and out of the house.

By lunch time, they had finished their assigned task, the flank steaks had been put in the fridge to marinate and the two of them were back cuddling on the couch after eating a few sandwiches.

To Leah’s surprise, in addition to loving fantasy books, Sy was a bit of a history buff. He found a show about some famous British king and, though Leah had never heard of it, the leading men were pretty to look at so she was willing to give it a shot.

After the first episode, Leah began to feel restless. The show was interesting and, let’s be honest, the money shot twenty minutes in didn’t hurt at all, but she just felt like they should have been doing something… more.

“I guess this wasn’t exactly what you were expecting when you flew out here to see me.”

Sy looked down at Leah over her shoulder but with her back to his chest and her gaze stubbornly fixed forward, he couldn’t read her expression.

“What do you mean?” he asked, tightening the arm he had wrapped around her waist while sliding his other hand over her stomach.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, resting her head against his shoulder. “It feels like in the movies the people who get two weeks of romance before they have to go their separate ways spend them having all these big adventures or fucking like rabbits and we’re just sitting at home watching the X-rated version of British history.”

“To be fair, if we’d had X-rated history in school I might have actually learned something.”

Sy’s attempt to lighten the mood didn’t do much good. Leah still chewed the inside of her cheek like it was an olympic sport.

He pulled Leah up onto his lap, stroking his thumb over the outside of her abused cheek.

“Babygirl, when our two weeks are over, we don’t go our separate ways, we go back to Warhorse.” Sy pressed a kiss to her temple, threading his fingers through her hair. “We don’t need adventures while we’re home because we get enough life-threatening missions while we’re away.” The tip of his nose brushed the shell of her ear as he moved to kiss the side of her neck. “And you don’t need to compare us to a Nicholas Sparks movie as fitting as it might seem.”

Busted. She hadn’t expected for him to know what she was referring to but clearly he was well versed in cheesy military romances.

“It’s a book too,” she grumbled.

“Oh?” Sy smirked against her skin, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “Well if it’s a book then we should be following it step by step. Although that Dear John letter might not have the same effect if you hand it to me on base.”

Leah shook her head, slipping from his grasp and moving to stand away with her arms crossed over her chest. “We won’t physically be apart but we won’t be together either. We can’t be so what are we supposed to do then? Am I supposed to sneak into your room after lights out and sneak back before anybody wakes up? Do we go back to how things were before we left?”

Sy pulled her back to him, flipping Leah onto her back and slotting himself between her legs so she wouldn’t be tempted to run again. Okay, maybe she hadn’t run so much as pulled away but he wasn’t letting it happen again. “I wish I had an answer to that, darlin’.” He moved a stray piece of hair out of her face, gazing down at her in such a way that she already knew what he would say next. And for once, it didn’t scare her. “I just know that I love you and that I’m not ready to let ya go.”

“Yeah?” she asked, in barely a whisper.

“Yeah…” He’d never said those words to a woman before and he was suddenly worried he’d spoken too soon.

Thankfully, the cutest little shy smile pulled at Leah’s lips. “I love you too.”

“Yeah?” he repeated, leading Leah to playfully slap his shoulder.

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

Leah felt more than heard Sy’s appreciative rumble. “Yes ma’am,” he growled before sealing his lips over hers.

Her hands snuck up his shirt, exploring the vast expanse of his back. Pinned under his comforting weight, there was no space left between them but she still tried to pull him closer by wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Ignore that,” Sy mumbled when his erection pressed against her covered core. 

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m gonna anyway.”

By some twisted coincidence, breathless moans coming from the television pulled their attention away from each other and over to the screen where the King was being generously served by a woman on her knees.

Sy broke away from Leah’s hold, reaching for the remote and switching the show off. As he dropped back onto the couch, he took a deep breath, grateful for the moment of reprieve before he blew his load in his pants. Before they could get back to what they were doing, footsteps coming from the upper floor alerted them to the time.

“Shit, I need to get the car loaded. Caleb’s gonna be fussing with his hair until the last possible second so he won’t think to do it himself.”

“I should uh… I should go shower.”

Not wanting to draw attention to the little situation he would obviously be dealing with while he was in there, Leah simply nodded and moved towards the kitchen.

“Oh!” Sy looked up towards where Leah stood in the doorway of the kitchen. “Wear something warm and pull out some stuff for overnight. I’ll put it in a bag for later.”

Intrigued, the Captain made his way upstairs to get his clothes. As he walked by the half-open bathroom door, he saw Caleb bent over the counter as he styled his hair, wearing only a towel. With a smile on his face, Sy riffled through his duffle, tossing some clothes on the bed and taking his nicest jeans and henley to change into after his shower.

As he stepped under the spray in the small first floor shower, Sy was still at half-mast. As soon as he replayed the moment where Leah told him she loved him, he was back to granite. He put a hand on the wall and wrapped the other around the base of his cock, giving it a squeeze. There was no time to draw things out, he just needed a clear head for the rest of the night.

Leah might have thought he shut off the show to avoid making her uncomfortable but the truth was that he shut it off to stop picturing Leah on her knees for him. He would wrap that hair he loved so much around his fist and use it to move her head over his shaft.

The water rolled down his back as his muscle clenched with every stroke up and down his length. Sy released a shaky breath when his thumb slid over his tip just right. He slowly repeated the motion a few more times, causing his ass to clench as his hips bucked forward of their own accord.

“Shit,” he hissed, his head falling forward.

Closing his eyes, Sy envisioned Leah’s tongue darting out to taste the beads of precum dripping from his slit. Then her lips would wrap around the head and she would sink down the length of his dick, going further and further each time. Her small hand would work the bottom half of his shaft and when she would be done making him nice and wet, she would take her hand away and sink down until he hit the back of her throat.

Before he even realized he was close, Sy was shooting his load onto the shower wall. A shiver ran down his entire body as a choked moan escaped his lips.

“Holy shit.”

Though his chest was still heaving, Sy couldn’t afford to waste any more time. He quickly rinsed the shower wall and used the available bottle of body wash to clean himself and his beard.

Sy stepped out of the bathroom just as a voice sounded from the second floor.

“Leah, come on we gotta go!” Caleb ran down the stairs with his hair perfectly styled but his shirt not yet fully buttoned. “Where the hell did I put my wallet?”

“Your wallet is with your keys on the table. The car is loaded and the electric cooler is plugged in for the cold stuff. We’ll meet you there.”

That made Caleb freeze halfway through putting his shoes on. “The fuck you are.” He marched back towards the kitchen where Leah sat at the table. “Look, I know you weren’t legal yet but we made a deal when you got that death machine and we agreed you’d never drive it after drinking ever no matter how little and especially not at night.”

Sy didn’t appreciate the raised voice and was tempted to intervene but he knew better than to get in between fighting siblings or to fight Leah’s battle for her. Leah, however, didn’t at all seem phased by her brother’s outburst, crossing her arms and waiting for him to finish his rant.

“Do you have any idea how many motorcycle accidents we get in the ER and what kind of damage the riders get? Broken bones, concussions, road rash… that’s the injuries the lucky ones get. The unlucky ones go straight to the morgue.” 

“Are you done?” she asked, standing and walking around the table.

Caleb looked taken aback by his sister’s calm tone. 

“Sy has a rental car which he can use to drive us but I was thinking we could take the long way there with my bike and stay at the cabin tonight.”

“Oh.” Caleb let out a relieved sigh, wiping a hand down his face. He hadn’t automatically assumed she would be staying the night since the cabin only had one bedroom and they normally just made the half hour drive back so they could each sleep in their own beds. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell like that.” He pulled Leah into a hug, muttering an ‘I love you’ into her hair.

If Sy had to venture a guess, he would say that their open affection came from the unexpected loss of their dad. Caleb was obviously terrified something might happen to Leah as well. And who could blame him considering the things he witnessed every day working in a hospital emergency room?

“Do you ride?” Leah asked once she saw Caleb off.

Sy nodded. “I got my bike license before I got my car license.”

“So… What do you think about riding up together?”

With a sigh, he caught Leah by the hips, pulling her closer. She responded by clasping her hands around Sy’s neck.

“Darlin’, I’m willin’ to put my male pride aside for a lot of things ‘cause I know you’re tough as hell and independent to a fault but I draw the line at ridin’ bitch.”

He was expecting some kind of snappy retort at his choice of words but Leah just smirked.

“Who said you’d be the one ridin’ bitch?”

Now that sounded like an amazing idea. Leah’s bike didn’t have anything for a passenger to hold onto so she would be forced to wrap her arms around him if she wanted to stay in her seat.

“Well if you’re offerin’ so nicely.”

After Leah found her spare helmet and set up a GPS on the front of her bike, they packed their change of clothes in a backpack and set off for the evening. It didn’t take long to realize why Leah had suggested the ride. The fall colors were gorgeous along the open road. As a bonus, Leah’s body was pressed flush against his back, her legs framing his and her gloved hands fisted in his old leather jacket.

Sy was almost disappointed when Leah pointed out the dirt path that led off through the trees. 

“Finally,” Caleb said as they walked in. He was halfway through the back door, holding a stack of what looked like four by fours in his arms. “L I need you to cut up the vegetables while me and Lachlan finish setting up the yard. Camden will be here soon with the stereo equipment.”

Out in the yard, Caleb’s friend was raking the leaves, while Caleb began attaching what Sy now knew to be legs to a table top.

“There isn’t much room in here so we take the legs off the tables when we store them. It also makes them easier to bring in and out of the cabin.”

Leah had obviously realized what he was looking at while she began pulling the vegetables out of the grocery bags.

“Why not just use folding tables?” he asked, taking everything over to the sink to be washed.

“Folding tables are expensive for what they are. Plus they’re often really narrow so my dad custom built three different tables that were the same size and could be attached together with brackets. With a power drill, it doesn’t take much longer to set up.”

Leah was almost done chopping the peppers and onions when the next person arrived, letting himself in.

The man gave a general greeting to the guys who’d come back inside to wash their hands before dropping his bags and moving to stand behind Leah. He put both hands over Leah’s ears and turned to Caleb.

“Why is Leah in the kitchen?” he stage whispered.

Caleb laughed, waving off the man’s concern. “Relax, she’s getting the vegetables ready. No cooking involved, only her scary knife skills.”

“Oh, well that’s fine.” He removed his hands and set them on her shoulders instead. “Hey Killer, welcome home.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek before unpacking his supplies.

“Fuck you, I’m not that bad a cook,” she said, shooting a glare at the older man.

“Says the girl who managed to make a salad inedible.”

“You mix up the sugar and the salt one time…” she grumbled under her breath, looking back towards the cutting board.

Sy couldn’t help but smile at the adorable way she was pouting.

“Why does everyone call you Killer?” he asked, both genuinely curious and wanting to draw the attention away from Leah’s apparently lacking culinary skills.

A blush crept up Leah’s cheeks as she expertly sliced onions into long, even strips.

“It’s not everyone, just the guys who were around while I was in my freshman year of high school.”

“That doesn’t answer his question though,” Lachlan pointed out.

When Leah remained silent, Camden took over.

“One day, while me and our friend Niki were studying at his house, he got a call from Leah’s school asking him to come in because they couldn’t reach Caleb. When we get there, the principal calls Niki in and starts telling him how Leah was getting suspended because she attacked another student. The guy starts going on about how they will have to involve social workers if we can’t keep Leah in line and says that she needs a strong hand to keep her emotional outbursts in check. So Niki pulls me and Leah in and asks what caused the altercation. Turns out, the principal’s son had been calling Leah ‘doll’ despite her telling him numerous times to stop.”

“That’s when Niki asked if I was the only one being punished for what happened which was a stupid question seeing as they knew exactly who his son was and they knew for a fact that he could get away with murder.”

Camden hummed in agreement. “I was pre-law at the time so I gave him some speech about sexual harassment being a gateway to rape and that by not addressing the harassment he was condoning it and fostering a hostile study environment. It spooked him enough that he agreed to drop her suspension. Anyway once we left the school Niki made a comment about how Leah had every right to go Chucky on his punk ass. Killer kind of stuck after that.”

Never in a million years would Sy have guessed that Leah’s nickname would come from ‘killer doll’. In a way, it was kind of brilliant that they would use it as a way to praise her for sticking up for herself.

He remembered how Leah had said she’d isolated herself after their dad had died and realized it was probably a result of that asshole principal threatening to involve social services instead of admitting his own son had done something wrong.

“I’d never seen Niki so angry before,” Caleb chimed in. “When I got home from my midterm he looked about ready to hunt the kid down himself.”

“Still would have been better than Gage being the one to do it.”

“Fuck,” Caleb shook his head, clearly in agreement with Lachlan’s comment, “dad would have brought him back just to kill him all over again.”

When the three men stepped out to unload the stereo equipment, Sy slipped in behind Leah, putting his hands on her hips. “Is it all pet names that make you go serial killer or just ‘doll’?”

Leah looked outside, making sure Caleb was still out of earshot before she set the knife down and turned to face Sy.

“I lost my shit that day because he told me that if I wanted guys to notice me I should be a good little doll and only open my mouth when I wanted someone to stick something in it. I didn’t want any of them to worry more than necessary so I never told them.”

“Jesus,” he pulled Leah closer as if wanting to shield her from the memory, “I think that just ruined the word doll for me.”

He rested his forehead against Leah’s, taking a deep breath. 

“That’s okay, I like ‘darling’ better anyway. Or baby girl, that was nice too.”

Chapter 23

#captain syverson #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill #cpt syverson fic #cpt syverson #cpt syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x ofc #cpt syverson x ofc #cpt syverson fanfic

[dungeonpuppykai]

|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

Description: Captain Syverson learnt that the only way to have her was to ask her hand in marriage. So he did just that. And she was all his now, both to hold and to possess.

Pairing: Soft-Dark!Captain Syverson | Sheikha!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Captain Syverson. This is a mature story with dark undertones so kindly browse at your own discretion. Please note that this piece is only a work of fiction that in no way aims to reinforce or propose any stereotypes to any ethnicity or race. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Syverson, he is lowkey messed up, smut with plot (I am sorry), possessive behavior, his obsession with her chastity, naive!reader, size kink, biting (it's Henry and his canines ffs), boob play, manhandling, power imbalance, arranged marriage, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, m!dom, f!sub, he's a man, misogyny, age gap (reader is 20's, Sy is early 40's fight me), he's lowkey intimidating, slight spanking, allusion to bondage, manipulation, slow burn-ish, maybe more dialogue than necessary, p-in-v penetration, corruption kink, no use of 'Y/n'. 

Note: Her father is not the mean Sheikh from the movie lmfao. Reader doesn't even have to be Iraqi, just Eastern that you can TOTALLY imagine yourself as because it's a frickin' story for God's sake! Ps, This blocked me so hard mid-write I nearly abandoned it lmfao, I need a break! 

.

Captain Syverson had always thought the notion of the first touch buzz to be foolish. To quote him in his own words, the electric touch that people claimed their beloved aroused within them was nothing more than a steaming pile of horseshit. 

Until now. 

As his thick and coarse battle hardened hands cupped the side of the tender face of his dear wife, the Captain's thumb darted out to quickly glide across the perfect arch of her cheekbone before it moved down to the bow of her lips, his body combusting into a thousand flames of raw desire. 

Her skin was so tender he feared it may come off if he pressed on it too hard. The structure of her body that adorned her traditional wedding attire seemed so fragile in this moment next to him and in his big old bed that the thought of ever manhandling a thing as delicate as her terrified him. The contrast of her usually confident and intelligent countenance was striking in quality to the humility with which she now offered her submission to him. 

His suspicions against his body and strength increased by the passing minute; he felt petrified to even breathe too easily near her. The fear that it may damage her in some way haunted him and filled his lungs with dread. It was not that she was the most petite thing that he had ever seen or she held resemblance to an adolescent in terms of size or any of that weird shit, no. 

It was instead the way in which her head bowed in just the perfect way so it indicated respect and submission; not so high that it would seem that she was trying to deny him his station but not so low that it became off-putting. It was an acknowledgement to his power in their dynamic; an agreement of a lifetime. 

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

There was simply no way he was going to make it through the night with his sanity intact. 

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

Because even though he wanted to hide this girl so safely in his arms for the rest of his days that not even a harsh breeze would be allowed to touch her, the erratic way in which his boiling blood sizzled its way through his veins, The Captain wanted nothing more than to just turn her around, press her breathtaking face into the mattress and take her over and over until she was swell with his litter. 

Or press his bigger body against hers and take her deep and raw until her mind gave up on consciousness  

Perhaps place her between his own legs and feel her mouth around him until his seed spilled from her nose. 

Maybe make her mount him and slap her ass that he just knew would be perfect over and over to keep her going even when she didn't want to. 

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

And he was determined to try his hand at all of them, and more. 

His eyebrows furrowed just a little when she awkwardly pecked his lips for the fifth time in a straight row and refused to give him more, cringing away when he attempted to deepen the kiss. The girl that giggled and covered her mouth on which her red lipstick had already smudged was a dead leaf echo of the confident and liberal sheikha -prized daughter of the sheikh supreme- that critically watched the foreign Captain everytime he was around with her bright and vigilant brown eyes so full of scrutiny that it made him, a grown man, blush. It wasn't his fault, really. Her eyes had the most attractive gleam of intelligence to them and the black khol that lined them only accentuated their beauty more. 

She had always been so elegant Syverson knew he was a goner the first time his eyes had been granted the pleasure of looking at her. Sat aside her father basking in her confidence, silk scarf draped around her head and body in the most perfect way, a form he could only describe as agreeable always clad in decent clothes, fingers adorning rings with colorful stones and modesty dripping off of every single mannerism of hers. 

How could a man not look twice?

And then not consider looking away utterly blasphemous on account of being unappreciative of such godly beauty?

"I- I do not know how to…" Her accent turned his gears just right. "K- Kiss, Captain" oh. 

Of course. 

Blood rushed to his cock that hadn't throbbed like this in a long time. That was, if it ever had. 

And then his sweet, chaste wife just had to call him Captain.

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

The obedient daughter, who was never afraid to voice her thoughts and outsmart every man who dared stand against her with inadequate knowledge of the debate at hand, had happily bowed down to her father's wish that she marry the charming and noble Captain -to them a warrior who was not afraid to fight for his country; a man truly admirable- after said Captain had asked for her hand in marriage when he had realized that that was the only way to have her. 

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

Sure, it had taken Syverson and his rather daft attempts at impressing her some quick-witted answers and astute responses by a rather critical her to realize it.

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

"Well, ain't that just dandy?" Syverson realizes just how heavy his breathing really is when his words come out gravelly and almost forced. She is unable to hold his eyes for very long so she stares at his chest instead, a most remarkable coy smile across her lips. The fact that she looks every other man with a taught unaffected sternness but has blushed everytime their eyes have met after the wedding just drives him all the more insane. 

Her dark eyebrows furrow as she lightly tilts her head to the side. He has noticed that she has some trouble understanding his dialect. So he caresses her cheek again, this time in a reassuring manner;

"I know you'll figure it out soon. You're a clever lil' thing, ain'tcha?" She looks up just long enough to nod with a meeting of their eyes. 

"Yes, Captain" god, even her way of speaking has softened.

The knowledge that he was the only man in this whole wide world whom she treated like this made him want to worship her with his love and devotion in every way possible. 

Because The Captain was naturally a very possessive man who did not appreciate ran through goods.  

"Alright now, just trust your husband and sit back like a good lil' bride, alright?" It was taking him all of his focus to not just push her back and have his depraved ways with her all night long.

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

"Atta girl," before he leaned back in and brushed his lips against hers just long enough to whisper, "now hush and don'tcha try to keep them pretty lips shut on me" he felt her going breathless against him when his mouth fit against the slot of her parted one perfectly; as though it had been created just for him. 

She did her best to keep up with as much obedience as her modesty would allow her to muster but the sensation of his mouth against hers, the scratch of his coarse beard across her delicate skin, the wetness of his tongue that took its time swiping against her bottom lip and the way that he didn't have to break the kiss to know that she had extended her had in his direction to take a hold of him to deal with the intensity of it all, the sheer desperation with which he reached out his fingers and clutched hers in an affectionate way that also had a territorial tinge to it was all too much for her to handle.

An unfamiliar thrill that she had been a stranger to until this moment began to patter through her bloodstream. Her heart pounded, her sweat glands soaked, her face burnt and her stomach fluttered. 

"Captain" was all she was allowed to whisper in the two second interval the man allowed them to recover their breathing. 

"Well, I'll be damned, darlin'" Syverson husked through rushed kisses as he hurriedly helped her lay down with her attire still intact, both too desperate to strip her and wanting to take her as she was, for tonight she looked the most stunning he had ever seen her. "You're so dang pretty I can't even fathom stayin' off ya now that you're mine" a hush of cold breath rushed past her flush lips as her thick eyebrows drooped upwards in reaction to him dipping his face in the curve of her neck.

"I am all yours to do with whatever you please, my C- Captain" her soft hands flew to grab at his shirt as the foreign sensation of a man's body against her skin sent an electric bolt down her spine. 

His body was heavy above hers as he groaned at her response and grinded his bulge against her covered sex, peppering kisses all over her skin. "God damn, baby. Your mama sure raised you up right, didn't she?" A loud squeak resonated in the air when the new husband simply could not hold back his passion anymore and bit down on the inviting flesh of her shoulder, letting out a stomach churning moan at her taste and squeezing her sides as the smell of her fragrance oils hit his nose. 

"Fuck, baby" it took him all of his willpower and the promise that he could go back for more only easier to part from her. "I can't–" sitting up to kneel over her, Syverson pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it somewhere in the room. "I can't hold back no more" as he leaned back down and placed one hand beside her head to keep himself from suffocating her, the way she looked up at him with wonder, timidity, need, sent a pang of pain to his cock. "Talk to me, darlin'" he gathered her wrists in one hand before placing them above her head, now reaching for the clothed bump on her chest. "You feelin' anything?" A soundless breath left her and she shuddered in such a way that her boobs trembled feverishly. 

"S- Strange… a- and… oh my God!" She had to shut her eyes and turn her head to the side when he suddenly manhandled one of her breasts out of the deep neckline of her wedding night dress. Her hands rushed to cover her chest by instinct but her husband's authoritative swat was much quicker and stronger. 

Syverson chuckled at the defensive gasp she let out, a crazed darkness floating in his eyes as he pinnned her feverish hands out of his way, coarse palm now feeling up her other breast that was freed as he spoke. "Ain't no God 'round these parts tonight, baby. Just me…" His lips enveloped hers in a right and hungry kiss. "'N you" the way she nervously gulped when he pulled back to stare into her eyes only added to the fire in his body. "Say, baby" he trailed gentle kisses down her chin, along her throat and then down to the fluffy cushions of soft flesh dotted with flush, erect nipples in the middle. A surprised cry jutted out of her mouth and her fingernails tried to claw at his hand that confined them above her when he pressed one wet kiss on each nub. "Ain't this just somethin' else?" 

The girl had no idea what possessed her to say what she did, but her hips moved faster than her brain could catch on and her lips worked before reticence could hinder her communication. "I- It is, Captain. T- Thank you" of course she had felt arousal before. Of course she had been wet before. Some of those times she had a certain handsome American Captain to thank for, not that she would ever willingly admit it. But she had never known how to relieve herself of it other than a cold shower. 

Her mother had warned her that not every feeling that transpires in one in times of idleness should be chased and she had listened.

But this was not solitary boredom, this was not a devilish lure, her mother wasn't here and it was her wedding night with a man she was slowly becoming sure she would be able to call her dear husband one day. 

If her husband was kind enough to be considerate about what made her feel what she could only identify as exciting, she deemed it a stupidity to refuse the treatment. 

"Aw, baby" Syverson's hands only part from her breasts so his mouth can greedily latch onto them, his bearded lips pressing all over them before his hand nearly snatches her skirts out of his way since the layers seem to be never ending. "To think that I ain't even begun with ya and you're already thankin' me like a sweet little lady" now his mouth traveled to her stomach and the only word he had for its appearance was perfect. A shudder set in her shoulders when his beard scratched her navel before his teeth softly nibbled away on her skin. 

"W- Would you like me to get up and t- take my clothes off, dear?" God damn.

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

"Hold on now, darlin'" he husked as his fingers caressed her nubs, his hot mouth littering its kisses over her skin further down south. "I wanna take you like this first" the readied rise in the middle of her shoulder blades smoothed out and she settled back into the mattress again wordlessly. "Well now, are you gonna be good and keep them arms up high like a good lil' thing or am I gonna have to tie 'em up?" A drawn out moan sounded from deep within her throat when his chin deliberately brushed against her clothed sex, coarse fingers twirling her nipple between them.

Syverson felt an unconscious clench in the muscles of her thighs upon his words finally registering in her clouded mind. "N- No, I- I'll be good, husband. I promise." 

"Atta girl" he praised in a satisfied tone before letting go of her wrists. 

It was after that that his hands roamed free and wild all over her form. The Captain kissed, sucked, nibbled, pinched, groped, licked and bit all to his desire, the growing moans of his bride only encouraging him further. 

"God damn, if these ain't the sweetest damn legs I've ever seen" Syverson licked away the thread of spit that previously connected his mouth to her now bruised hiphone that he had successfully marked as his territory. The fact that no man had ever seen them and the plan that he made to never let anyone do so either was making his ears hot. His sides were becoming sore with need like he was the virgin. 

"And this– fuck, c'mere" he couldn't hold it back anymore. The Captain had always been an ass man and the fact that he was yet to see his wife's backside was making him mad now. Her yelp morphed into a confused giggle when he bundled her ankles in one of his rough hands, having already rid her of her panties, and easily raised both her legs up until her lower half dangling by his hold on her. "Hmmm, I just knew you had a perfect lil' rump stashed in there" his free hand felt her soft cheeks up before he traced his index finger down her crack, cursing at the way they clenched in defense. Then his depravity got the best of him and he wound his hand back and gave a handful of strong blows to her poor behind that started blushing in an instant. 

"Oh– ouch!" Her next nervous giggle made him raise an eyebrow as he divided an ankle between each hand and parted her legs to look down at her. 

"Think this is funny, do you?" The girl quickly stopped herself nervously. "You know who that's for?" He didn't even mind the giggles, if anything they were rather endearing to him. But the timidity in her eyes was way too sweet for him to pass up. She shook her head no. "Bad little girls who make fun of their fellas, that's who." It was the cock hardening way in which her bottom lip wobbled sensitively that dried his throat. 

A young woman once so strong, all commanding and authorative now exposed in such a submissive manner and completely at his mercy. 

"S- Sorry, dear" he hummed, reaching for the mound between her legs to roughly feel her pussy up in blunt gropes. 

"You can consider those as payback for all them times you thought you could get slick with me in front of my boys just 'cause you were the Sheikh's daughter" her eyes widened and she blushed harder than before. 

"I- I–"

"Yes, you" though Syverson's words were crisp, his kiss on her nether lips was tender and perhaps that was the sole reason why she didn't tear up from being reprimanded when she was so vulnerable and hypersensitive like this. "Thought I'd just forget all that brattin' of yours?" 

She had to hurriedly sit up for that one and reach for his hands affectionately. "Oh, no" the pure care in her eyes made his melting heart feel as though it had risen into the sky. "It was only that you were not my husband back then, dear," she tried to make him understand, aware that there were cultural differences that needed overcoming, "mother said good girls owe it to their husbands to treat every other man with a serious attitude and indifference!" 

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

With a woman who was not only intelligent and gorgeous way past his league but one that respected herself with an unwavering devotion towards her spouse. 

"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed with faux surprise that she did not catch up on, much to his expectation. "So that's what it was all about?" Of course he knew. 

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

She apologetically nodded with sincerity. "I swear, my heart." The translation of the endearment caused for his blood to pump through his ears only harder. 

Syverson gave her a small smile before sighing a little. "Well, you see, darlin', it did still hurt my feelings a tad" her eyebrows furrowed in regret so he added just to rub it in that much more; "got me a bit of pride to keep up, y'know?" 

Now she pouted. "I am sorry, love…" Before a bulb went off in her head and she jumped a little to express her excitement, the action causing her naked boobs to jiggle. "Is there a way I can make it up to you?" There. 

"Why, of course!" Fuck, he sounded more eager than a middle schooler. "You gonna have to show that you can make a good little wife" her cheeks flushed as she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. He continued, aware she was as clueless as a virgin.

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

He wished there was a way to preserve it -her- all as it was.  

"Anything you want, my dear" she replied sincerely as she earnestly pressed his hand that she held to her chest. 

The man swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat as his eyes flickered down to where their fingers were intertwined; the valley of her perfect breasts. 

"Good girl" his voice came out much deeper than usual. "Go on 'n' take it out, then" the bride's eyebrows raised to express her confusion as she tilted her head to the side. 

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

Syverson was getting impatient. "That means my pants, darlin'." He chuckled to lighten the effect of the edge that his tone had held. "I mean, can't exactly make love to ya with 'em on, now can I?" Something pulled taught in her chest and she went to avoid his eyes out of embarrassment. 

"Oh… yes" she was breathless as she reached for his fly, face angled downwards. 

"Yeah…?" He drew it out on purpose teasingly, dipping his own head earthwards to try and meet her gaze cockily. "Yeah, yeah?" The man kept going unrelentlessly until she had no choice but to respond. 

"Y- Yes…" Her nervous fingers slipped over the button of his pants many times but she managed to free him at last. 

"Go on ahead now, sugar" he coaxed sweetly, tone in stark contrast to his intentions. "Take it out and let them pretty lil' hands get a feel" her legs instinctively tried to close due to the shame she felt but her husband's huge body hindered her attempt to somehow cover herself. "Well?"

Her eyes darted up to him from where her fingers gingerly rested against the waistband of his boxers and Syverson suspected that she was about to decline because of the way her mouth moved to let out some phantom words. But when he raised a questioning eyebrow in response, she seemed as though it had reminded her of her place against him and she quickly dipped her digits inside the undergarment to reach for his thumping cock. 

The first feel of her fingertips connecting with his hard skin was… indescribable. It was as though time ceased, stilling everything else with it and he was enveloped into a cocoon of pure sensation. She was everywhere and inside. Her heat filled him to the brim. Each brush of her delicate skin against his rougher one felt like the stroke of the flesh of an outworldly nymph. Shivers of ecstacy cascaded down his lower back and he was floating already. 

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the unfamiliar feeling, the moan that he let out along a whispered praise pulling her back in the moment and away from her recoil. The bride's mind reminded her of her duty to her husband and she used her other hand to hold his clothes away so she could uncover his impaler. 

"Just like that, darlin'. Just like that" one of his hands went to tangle in her hair. "Go on and rub it for me, baby. You're doin' real good" his free hand reached for her own sex that had secreted its natural moisture in reaction to the sensations she was being subjected to. He groaned at the feeling of her warm pussy and squished his finger through her plump nether lips. "Tell me what you see" her own body was getting feverish by the second, hips and cunt trying to shrink in on themselves due to how violating his sense tingling touch was.

"I- It's…" She raked her mind for an appropriate answer. But it was all too much for her to handle; the pressure to impress her new husband, touching him the way he wanted properly, obeying him, submitting to his handling and then dealing with his intense gaze. "V- Very pretty, husband. Thank you" so she played it the safest she knew. 

And the girl could swear she felt him twitch in her palm at that, a pang of pain rising in her wrist as she awkwardly pumped him in a vertical manner. 

"Pretty, huh?" A cunning grin spread across his handsome features as he slipped one finger deep within her folds and being the retired playboy that he was, the Captain easily found her pure entrance. "'N' what about the size?" He could not help but moan at the feeling of her balmy walls clinging to his finger. "Ever seen anythin' like it?" Her thighs quivered as his thumb glided over her folds. 

"N- No, husband" she answered timidly, afraid to bruise his pride with an inappropriate or unsatisfactory answer that may pose a threat to her chasteness.

"That's right" now he began to speed up his intrusion of her insides. "'Cause you're all mine, ain'tcha?"  She quickly nodded, letting out a whine as her eyebrows furrowed at the ache his twisting of one of her nipples caused. "Now tell me," he leaned forward to reach for one of her nubs with his teeth, "did ya ever think you'd land yourself a fella with a cock this big?" He spoke through a mouthful before sinking down on her tender boobs, the tips of his sharp canines digging into the soft cushions of her flesh. 

"N- No…" The girl was gasping as she struggled to keep up with his leaking and twitching cock. "T- Thank you, dear!" She added for good measure despite how overwhelmed she was becoming. 

"Tell me, baby" the man loved how his naive wife's features scrunched in discomfort but she still sped up her fist that was wrapped around his cock because he prompted her to, hoisting himself further up next to capture her lips against his. "Do you think yourself lucky that you get to have this here cock all to yourself for the rest of your days?" He could not help but fuck into her hand at the sight of the spit string dangling by a corner of her bottom lip as it connected to the wad of spit that she had just released on his cock after being ordered to do so. He felt her cringe at the feeling of her fingers touching her own saliva as she spread it over his cock. But her resolve to obey him did not falter even once regardless of how shy or uneasy she felt.

And that was how Syverson knew he had found himself his perfect little homemaker.

"I- I do, husband" her voice nearly broke. "Thank you so much" the fact that all of this was visibly strange and even uncomfortable to her because she was not familiar with any of this… 

The Captain could swear that alone was enough to finish him off.

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

Nobody's leftovers; whole in every sense for the beast to take. 

What could he say? Colonel Syverson's prized son always won, no matter what. 

There was a brighter way of looking at his promiscuous dating history that was in stark contrast to his wife's nonexistent one; it could easily be considered as his physical sacrifice in order to realize and reach his full potential as a man for his future lady's well being as well as pleasure. 

A lady that he had found at last. 

"Say it" his command was heavy and the rough skin of his finger was like gravel against the buttery tissue of her slick walls. "Say that you're the luckiest lil' bride for landin' yourself the best damn dick you could have ever hoped for" she began to subconsciously move her thumb out of sync with the rest of her digits to swipe it over his tip each time her hand rose to his apex and he couldn't believe just how close he was already. 

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

But then again it was impossible for the beast to resist his tempting lamb for very long, wasn't it?

"I- I am the luckiest…" She licked her parched lips needily. "L- Little bride for l- landing myself the best d- dick…" Embarrassment burnt her cheeks but pleasing him was more important a priority to her. "T- That I could've ever hoped for…"

He deeply moaned in satisfaction. "My good girl" a quick peck was given to the tip of her nose. "Now tell me, baby. How ya feelin'?" As if on cue, she clenched around his finger with a moan.  

Fuck, Syverson had never really preferred a clueless woman until now.

He could literally demand whatever he wanted from her and she would believe him out of her naivety. 

His perfect pretzel Princess that he could twist into whatever shape that he pleased. 

Or make her do as he desired, for that matter. 

With no one, not even his wife herself, to question him or his ways.

He loved the thought. 

"... S- Strange… P- Pain… but– hnnn!" Her back arched as she suddenly writhed, nearly going white at the feeling of getting her special spot getting tickled for the first time. It was an ability her husband took a lot of pride in; the  renown that he had held in college for being able to find gspots with his fingers alone. 

"Feels real good too, don't it?" The Captain snickered heavily as he began to rock his hips into her hand, feeling himself nearing the brink. 

"Mmh!" She did her best to respond despite the sensory overload, groaning softly when he forces her band of muscles to expand further by adding another finger to her pussy and repeatedly jabbing her sensitive nerves with their blunt tips, the sound of his skin fucking in and out of her liquids getting louder by the minute. "W- Weird… but…" A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face as she gasped, eyes widening when her spine jolted at a particular wave of pleasure. "M- More, please." 

In the blink of an eye, Syverson had pushed her on her back before crawling up her body like a predator. Before her body could process his fingers leaving her into an orgasm denial, his eager cock was pushing into her. The pained moan that escaped her as her body twisted under his was muffled by his mouth clamping over hers. The Captain grunted as his cock struggled to push its way inside her virgin entrance despite the preparation that he had done. The girl's bottom lip pulled away from the rest of her mouth due to the way he bit down on it to withstand the overwhelming pleasure that sparked everywhere within him.  

"Your wish is my command, my darlin' sheikha." 

Syverson found himself praying for the first time to any god, deity or entity that may be listening; to freeze time right here in this very moment and never set it free again.

For he could stay like this for eternities and beyond; buried inside his dear wife and protectively enveloped in her loving arms that had never held another like she did him and never would whilst she moaned below him in a pained ecstasy, clenching and nearly knocking out as she experienced her first ever orgasm.

.

Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

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[ellethespaceunicorn]

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Title: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out 

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: Syverson x Female!Reader 

Word Count: 951

Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU. 

Warnings: apocalypse AU, accidental pregnancy, language

A/N: A submission for @the-slumberparty BINGO challenge. My bingo squares include beach day, family friend, accidental pregnancy, and apocalypse. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me 

My Masterlist  

As you sit just past where the water rushes on the beach, you can feel the mist of the water on your face. Sea salt is in the air, and you relish the smell. You can remember coming to the coast with your family as a child. 

Of course, that was before the world decided to end. Before you had to change your entire way of life in the blink of an eye.  

Now, moments like this are but a distant memory. Your shoes are off. Your toes are buried in the sand. Saliferous wind from the ocean is blowing through your hair. Next to you is a duffel bag full of essentials, at least what you could grab on short notice.  

Escaping the compound turns out to be a bit trickier than you had hoped. But with a close friend at the guard station, you sneak by and out of the gates without a second glance. You make it out of town before dawn, watching the sun rise over the water. 

By now, you know that your superior officer will be conducting roll calls and noticing your absence. You did not care enough to go back, but you wish your brain would stop letting you worry about what was going through their brains. 

‘Is she alive?’ For now, yes. 

‘Did she go alone?’ Technically, no. 

The distant sound of tires on gravel does not surprise you. Neither does the noise of the rusty truck door opening and closing. The softness of sand being kicked up by big boots creeps up to the side of you. You do not have to look up to know who is next to you, but you do anyway. 

The dusty old camouflage pants with thigh holster and sweaty brown plain t-shirt gave him away in an instant, but your eyes continue higher. His unruly beard covers his irked expression, his mouth set to one side as he chews his inner cheek. You’ve known him long enough that he chews his cheek whenever he gets upset. 

He looks down into your eyes and you watch as they wander across your form. 

“Your brothers are worried sick about ya. I told ‘em I would come to look for ya,” He sits down in the sand next to you, “Runnin’ ain’t gonna fix our little problem.” 

“Our problem, Sy? First, it is not our problem. Second, it is not a problem. It is a baby. And this baby wasn’t exactly planned, I understand that. But I don’t expect you to do anything. We can get by on our own.” Your voice breaks and you hate that your eyes are blurry with unshed tears. 

“I wasn’t callin’ the baby a problem. And if ya think I’m lettin’ ya raise this little hellion on yer own, yer outta yer damn mind. Now, yer brothers are my best friends in this whole damn world. And yes, they’d kill my ass if they knew I got you pregnant. But they’d resurrect me and kill me again if they knew I’d let ya off on yer own. Shit, I’d kill my ass too.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but it does nothing to stop the fat tears that escape when you blink your eyes. The shuddering breath you take is enough to have Sy scooting closer to you and bringing you into his arms. 

“Don’t cry, Sweetness. We’ll figure this out. Together,” He kisses your forehead and snakes a hand down to your stomach, “Let’s give ‘em a chance, alright? Make a better world for ‘em and all that nonsense. I can’t fathom losing both of ya, let alone either of ya.” 

“We should have been more careful—” 

“Well, we weren’t bein’ careful. And now, we got a kid on the way. So what? Every time we face a little trouble, you gonna run?” He wipes away your tears, looking into your eyes again. 

“I’m really scared, Sy. What are we going to do?” The tremble in your voice has Sy holding you tight. 

“Well, to start, we tell yer brothers about the baby. Then, whaddya say we go over to the doctor, have everything looked at? Make sure he’s growing fine and everything.” 

You laugh, not able to hold your amusement. “He? You already know it’s going to be a boy?” 

“Well, ya know my folks had five boys. Yer parents had two before they had ya. Odds are it’s gonna be a boy, Sweetness.” 

“I’m a little shocked. What changed your mind about everything? You were not this verbal when I told you yesterday.”  

He bites his lip, looking out at the sea before answering. “I guess I was too scared to admit how I felt about ya. And then, outta nowhere, you give me the best gift in the world, and I didn’t know how to handle it,” He takes a shaky breath, then continues, “I’m sorry I waited ‘til now to say it, Sweetness. I love ya. I love ya, so damn much. And nothing would make me happier than to raise this little one with ya.” 

You climb into Sy’s lap, holding his face in your hands, and resting your forehead against his. “I love you too, Sy.” You lean in and slot your mouth against his. You allow him to take the lead as his hand tangles in your hair. 

Pulling back, you smile at each other. Nothing needs to be said. You turn in Sy’s lap and watch as the waves crash in and out. You have each other and you have this baby. With a love that burns bright like yours, neither Hell nor high water would be able to snuff it out. 

A/N: Title taken from There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths. It seemed perfect for this story. 

**Tag List** 

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @peyton-warren @raccoon-eyed-rebel @geralts-yenn @rebelangel1102

#captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x ofc #cpt syverson #syverson x reader #syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #syverson x you #syverson smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill x you #apocalypse au

[sillyrabbit81]

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Fifteen

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Fifteen Summary: Marshall agonises while Lori takes matters into her own hands.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 3k

Warnings:

Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part Fifteen Warnings: slight angst, mild violence, smut, p in v sex,

Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne .

Been a while since I wrote a sex scene with a character other than Sy! I hope you enjoy it.

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Fourteen Part Sixteen

Marshall

Lori sedately followed me as I led her to her room. 

I was in no hurry, on the contrary, I would have liked to walk with her for a while, hold her hand and do some of the usual stuff you do with a girl you like. But that's not how this was going to go, not in this situation, so I folded my arms across my chest and kept my pace to match hers.

“Did you get everything you needed with Mike?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said softly, “the packages should be at the post office tomorrow.”

“I'll send Mike to pick them up in the afternoon.”

Her brows furrowed, but she nodded.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I told Mike I was going to hang out with him tomorrow afternoon. But it's not like I'm going anywhere for a while, there will be plenty of afternoons.”

“No. You and Mike can do your thing. I will go and pick them up myself.”

“You will?”

“Sure. You seem to enjoy his company. You smile a lot with him.”

She lowered her eyes and grinned.

“See? Thinking about him makes you smile,” I chuckled. Her face dropped a little. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, but then shook her head, “I was thinking… Have you heard from Sy?.”

“No.” Her frown deepened. “Are you worried about him?”

She shrugged. 

“Do you miss him?”

She shrugged again, but with a forced carelessness that made it obvious that she was.

“I’m sure he misses you too.”

We stopped outside the door to her room. She made no move to open her door so I waited, leaning against the wall while she appeared to be thinking.

“What I said to you this morning,” she started, “what I accused you of, it was wrong of me.”

I shook my head. “Your reaction was completely understandable. We were out of line. And considering where you come from, it makes sense that you might see it the way you do.”

She raised her head and her normally steel blue eyes had taken on a dark smokey hue that sent a bolt of energy tingling through my nerves.

“I don’t see it that way anymore anymore,” she said, huskily.

For a moment I let myself entertain the fantasy that I could spend the night with her again without the mellowing effects of weed to kill my most feral instincts. Heat flooded my skin as I remembered the weight of her body against mine, the sweet citrus like smell of her hair, and the softness of her thigh. I didn’t think there was a snowman’s chance in hell that I could sleep next to her sober and not shred her clothes to pieces to get a taste of the silky hidden skin between her legs. 

I clenched my jaw as I shut that line of thought down fast. I hadn’t changed my mind from earlier; as far as I was concerned, I was no longer a party to the pact. However, I was not made of stone and I knew my resolution could only withstand so much temptation before it crumbled, so I turned towards my door. Then her hand came to rest on my bicep, her gentle touch halted my escape and my back went ramrod straight.

“Spend the night with me?” she asked, her tone so softly pleading that it took my breath away.

“I can’t,” I said, forcing the words out before I had a chance to say something else.

She withdrew her hand quickly, as if my reply had burned her.

The look on her face made me sick to my stomach. The rejection and confusion marring her dollishly pretty features was almost as bad as the accusatory look of betrayal she had given me that morning.

“You don’t want this,” I explained. “What you said this morning, you were wrong, but you were also right. What my Brothers and I did, what we agreed to, we had no right.”

“You said it was my choice.”

“We did, but we put you in an uncomfortable situation you didn’t deserve and one you don’t want, not really.”

“Oh and this situation,” she moved her hand back and forth between us before placing them on her hips, “is less uncomfortable? Rejection is what I deserve then?”

“Lori,” I said, forcing myself to keep a lid on the frustration that began to boil in my guts, “Do you deliberately misinterpret everything I say, or are you just childishly stubborn on purpose?”

Her jaw dropped and she rounded on me, poking her finger into the centre of my chest, forcing me to take backward steps until my back hit the wall.

“You’re a manipulative prick. All of you are. Was this the plan the whole time then? Playing with my feelings, deceiving me into agreeing to your ridiculous pact and then telling me it was a joke?”

“Lori–”

She pushed me then, her palms bouncing hard off my shoulders, and although it didn’t hurt, it was bloody annoying. I grabbed her hands, turning her in my arms until they crossed over her torso and her back pressed against my chest.

“Let me go,” she yelled while she struggled, pulling and yanking on my arms.

“Calm down,” I growled into her ear, trying desperately not to harden up as she twisted like a kitten trying to get free. 

“I’m not your plaything,” she hissed, “You’re supposed to be protecting me or have you forgotten what you’re being paid for?”

“And that’s exactly why I said no. Do you think I don’t want you? Do you not notice how when you’re in the room I can’t look away?”

She stopped fighting, her body was still tense, but she wasn’t thrashing. I dropped my head into her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, my lips brushing against her tender flesh.

“Every inch of me wants you, wants to be inside you,” I mumbled as I my will began slipping through my fingers like sand. 

I released her and ran my hands over her body, until they rested against the burning hot skin of her belly where her tank top had ridden up in the struggle. Her hand covered mine and she didn’t stop me as I slid them under the thin fabric. I rumbled out a groan as the soft weight of her breasts filled my hand, and her hard little nipple teased my palm.

“You’re a constant, tormenting, burn in my chest. Right here,” I placed our hands over her heart, “I ache for you.”

She whined weakly, her body melted against mine as she turned her head towards me.

My lips were on hers before I could think. She was soft, warm, and so perfectly lush that my whole body shuddered and I groaned into her mouth. Without stopping the kiss I grasped her waist, guided us blindly to her door, and fumbled with the handle.

Lifting my lips from hers long enough to turn her, I took her to the bed and laid her on her back before capturing her mouth again. Her thighs fell apart beneath me and I spread my legs to make her widen them until I was grinding my trapped and throbbing cock against her heat. She gasped into my kiss and I didn’t hesitate to slip my tongue into the plush warmth of her mouth. I groaned at the taste of her as she kissed me back and sunk her fingers into my beard, nails scratching gently at my cheeks and jaw. 

Somewhere in the back of my mind a voice told me to stop, that I shouldn’t take her like this. I lifted my head, trying to swallow my most violent basic instincts while I struggled to find the words I needed to stop this from going any further but my body was too raw and my mind was skirting too close to the edge of reason. Then I felt her move beneath me, her hips rocking, lifting up to meet mine and a greedy feral urge overtook any rational thought. 

Fuck it. I was hardly on track for sainthood anyway.

I growled, it's the only way I can describe the animalistic groan I released as pulled her tank over her head. Catching both of her slight wrists, I held them above her head in one hand while the other pulled her jeans and panties down her thighs. She cycled her long lush legs to help me peel her flushed body out of the skin tight clothes.

Below a small short patch of hair, her delicate smooth slit was glistening. As if time had decided to stand still, her legs lazily fell open and she blossomed before me, revealing with painstaking slowness her dewy centre. My cock jerked at the sight, desperate to plunge into that soft and sleek slit.

My fingertip circled her nipple, once, twice, three times, my head pounding as I watched the already pebbled skin grow tighter. She mewled as I took her little pink bud into my mouth; her hips rolled and her arms pulled against my hand while her head fell onto the bed with a long throaty moan. God, that sound made my already throbbing cock so fucking hard, I felt like I could fuck through a brick wall.

“Shh,” I soothed and slipped two fingers into her mouth. Her eager lips wrapped around them and her tongue slid over the pads while she sucked. With a rumble in my throat, I replaced my fingers with my tongue and she reciprocated, hungrily drawing me into her mouth with a torrid pull.

I ghosted my wet fingers over her slit, parting her, making her open for me. Fuck, she felt nice; delicate, small, warm, slick, swollen… just so fucking nice.

Barely able to control the primal part of my brain that screamed at me to completely ruin all that sweet softness, I flipped her onto her chest and lifted her hips until she was on her knees. Her cry of shock hardly slowed me as I clawed at my jeans and lowered them just enough.

“I want to take you like this,” I mumbled as I leaned over her and ran my hand from her hips, down the concave of her waist, and over her ribs until I cupped her breast. My cock nudged against her core and I felt her sharp intake of breath.

“Oh my God,” she whined.

Gathering her thick braid in my fist, I kissed her just below her hairline before turning her head towards mine. She was the perfect picture of a woman lush with arousal; eyes heavy lidded, cheeks rosy, her mouth parted as she panted in shallow breaths.

“Yes,” she whimpered, bobbing her head and chasing my lips.

I let her catch me and she kissed me hard, moaning softly as my tongue met hers. I pulled away but her teeth sank into my lower lip making me hiss and my hips jack. I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“We’ll go slow next time,” I rasped, rising to my knees and I sunk into her molten velvet heat.

“Fuck,” we both groaned as our bodies met.

I stilled, the thrill of being inside her almost too much as she shuddered around me. I swept my hand down her spine to the back of her neck. Her skin was so smooth, supple, and even in this position, with my cock balls deep within her quivering core, she still had that seductive allure of feminine purity that I wanted to take apart piece by painstaking piece.

What the fuck was I doing?

“Shit,” I muttered and started to pull out, “I’m sorry.”

Her hand shot back, grabbing hold of me and sliding down my still clothed arm until her hand held mine.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

All I could feel was the pounding of my heart, from my fingertips to my toes, to my cock. She squeezed my hand while she lifted her head, determination radiating from her fierce, stormy grey eyes. 

Then she moved.

Only a small twitch of her hips, but oh God, the tight, silky, slick friction was heaven. The hold she had on my hand grew tighter and she rocked again as a breathy moan floated from her throat.

“Fuck, Lori…” my voice trailed off as she continued the shallow erotic rotations of her hips and arching flex of her spine.

My lust overrode the last of my hesitations and I began countering her movements, rapidly dialling up the intensity until our bodies were crashing against each other. My fingers were digging into her hips while hers were clutching at the covers, our eyes were locked in a feverish hold, neither one of us able to look away.

“Come here,” I groaned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her up until her back rested against my chest. My hands moved all over her, mapping out every soft curve. 

She stretched, raising her arms to reach for me, turning my head and searching for my lips. Her kiss surged through my body, every muscle straining, the growing tension inside me had me heading for a release that was bearing down on me like a freight train.

I held her tight, one arm around her chest, my fingers mauling at her breast while the other skimmed over her taut, quivering belly going lower and lower until I brushed her clit. Her hips bucked as she cried into my mouth, and her pussy clamped down so hard on my cock, I almost lost it then and there.

Muscling her into place, I kept her still while I fucked her and worked her clit. She was trembling and her hands floundered, searching for purchase to steady herself as she got closer to the edge. I gathered her wrists in my hand and held them to her chest.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“I know, Lori, I know. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” I whispered into her neck, the skin so hot and humid that it made my lips tingle.

“Marshall… Oh my God…” 

“Let go, Lori. I need to feel you.” 

I lifted my head and found her striking, heavy lidded eyes. She was flushed, skin reddened and shiny, panting and gasping, she was more breathtaking than ever.

“Look so beautiful.”

Her eyes widened then squeezed closed as her whole body grew taut and she let out a groaning curse. 

“Fuck, Lori. Just like that.”

Her body rolled as if she were fighting me off again. I moved with her, keeping my fingers where they needed to be, fighting my own release as hers milked and pulled hard on my cock. It was a futile fight. Just as her body went lax and her head lulled against my shoulder, a hot euphoric pulse worked its way through my body.

Gripping Lori tighter, I pulled her closer to me while I pumped up into her, everything focussed on chasing my impending high. The throbbing rush crashed over me in long heady waves, each tide surging through me into her, filling her up until I had nothing left and fell onto my heels, taking her with me.

The sudden silence of the room was jarring; the only sound came from us catching our breath. Still buried deep within her core, my arms were wrapped around her with one hand cupping the firm flesh of her breast and she rested her weight on my thighs. I was sweating through my shirt, my belt buckle cut painfully into calf, and my boots - I still had my fucking boots on - dug awkwardly into my ankles, but I dared not move. I endured the discomfort to avoid the inevitable crash back to reality. Maybe if I stayed still and held her long enough, I could ward off the impending shame and perhaps Lori wouldn’t come to her senses and regret what we had done.

The dead air stretched on and on. Neither of us spoke or moved and the longer it continued, the more I feared I had catastrophically fucked up. 

Then Lori’s hands covered mine and she laced her slim fingers between my thick ones. With some hesitation I rubbed my thumbs over her skin and kissed her shoulder. 

“Say something,” she whispered.

I kissed her some more, trailing my kisses up along the ridge of her shoulders to her neck.

“Something,” I muttered.

Lori shook her head with a snicker and leaned back into me, turning her head until she could look me in the eyes. She was smiling, her face beautifully blushing and glowing, errant tendrils of her voluminous hair stuck to her slightly dampened skin. I brushed the stray locks back, tucking them into her braid as best I could.

Sighing, I shifted and Lori got off my lap, and I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down to unlace my boots. I felt her hands brush over the small of my back and she lifted my shirt to place a kiss against my spine.

“I didn’t mean for it to go like this,” I told her, placing both boots neatly on the floor and dropping my jeans beside them.

“Neither did I,” she said, raising my shirt higher until I had no choice but to lift my arms and let her pull it over my head and drop it on the floor next to my jeans.

“Lori,” I said, rotating my body and capturing her cheeks in my hands, staring resolutely into her tempestuous blue eyes, “I don’t regret it.”

Mimicking my position, she raised her hands to my cheeks and replied just as assiduously, “Neither do I.”

From deep within my gut, a warm surge of relief flooded my nervous system, making my spine feel like jelly. Expelling a held breath, I snaked an arm around her back and guided her back to the bed. Climbing on top of her, I covered her with my body and hummed at the feel of her skin against mine.

“This time,” I told her, “we’ll go slow.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x ofc #syverson #syverson x ofc #cpt syverson #captain sy #august walker fanfiction #august walker #august walker fic #august walker x ofc #walter marshall #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall fic #geralt x ofc #geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt of rivia fanfiction #mike (hellraiser) #mike hellraiser #hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fic #mike (hellraiser) fic

[peyton-warren]

Blinded by the Fog Chapter 9

Characters: Reader, Captain Syverson Pairings: Reader x Syverson, Jake Jensen x Reader Word count: 3686 Type: angst and fluff Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. You will need tissues according to my beta. Guilt, self-depreciation, self-doubt, loss of spouse and found family, swearing, adorably adorablness and sickeningly sweet Sy. Summary: Reader and Sy have their first official date.

Author's Note: So many people to thank for this one. Thank you to @ellethespaceunicorn for the beta and for helping me through some rough spots in this. Thank you to @adulting-sucks for her continued support and betaing. Thank you to @sarahdonald87 and @geralts-yenn for listening to me whine about this chapter their support.

Ask Box: Open

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Chapter 8 The following night you put your car into park next to Sy’s truck in his driveway a few minutes before you were scheduled to arrive for your first official date.  You nervously looked at yourself in the mirror, looking for imperfections for the thousandth time even though Aaran Syverson had already seen you at one of the lowest moments in your entire life just a few short weeks ago and still wanted to see you tonight.  

Flipping your visor back in place, you reached for the handle of the door, reminding yourself and the nervous butterflies that this was your idea.  Last night after you had assured Madre that you had made it home safe and sound, Sy and you talked more about apprehensions you both had and what you both wanted moving forward.  And it was quickly but delicately decided you would try actually dating.  That alone made you feel like a teen again, filled with excitement about seeing Sy in a more intimate way and also supplied you with dread at attempting to date in a town that seemed to be overstocked with people who knew about your recent loss.  You knew it was absurd to assume everyone who might see the two of you out together would think you were the world’s worst widow, but your brain would not let that possibility go.  Sy’s compromise was to have your first official date at his house the following night, he would cook for you. This plan seemed simple enough. The perfect combination of everyone’s wishes. But you couldn’t help the nerves now that it was here as you approached his front door, fidgeting with the skirt of your new dress for the millionth time.  

The new dress..... The one you had run off over an hour away to purchase this morning, deeming everything in your closet to be too tied to your husband, unable to shake the feeling you were cheating on Jake by agreeing to see Sy.  If you had new clothes, clothes your husband had never seen, never touched, it would make this semi-okay in your brain.  And speaking of never touched, you also took it upon yourself to buy yourself new lingerie.  You blushed hotly at the thought of the pastel purple set you were currently wearing under your dress.  You weren’t entirely sure you were ready to sleep with Aaran yet, but if it came up - excuse the pun- you were certain new undergarments should eliminate a portion of your hesitation.  

As you reached the door, you raised your hand to knock, only to have it opened before your knuckles could touch the painted surface.  You jumped, squeaked, and nearly dropped one of your gifts in your hands as you hid the second one behind your back with a rustle.  “Oh hi!” you tried to sound casual and normal as you looked up at your host leaned against his door.  And as your eyes flowed over him from toe to head, all rational thought disappeared from your brain, and you are fairly certain you need a bib.  

Dressed in jeans and dark blue collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and barefoot, Aaran exuded comfort and confidence all in one, something you wished you could say you felt at the same time. Your eyes landed on his sparkling blue ones as he finished his own perusal of you, making you flush as his eyes crinkle in the corner as his smile widened.   

“You look lovely,” he assured you, gesturing for you to step over the threshold by opening the door wider and stepping back with a nod.

Flustered, your eyes flitted around to find a safe place to land that was not on Sy as you entered his home. “Oh, I brought you these,” you stuttered, holding the hand not behind your back to offer him the six-pack of his favorite beer.  As his fingers brushed yours in the handle, you gasped, and looked up at him, his eyes trained on your face, the look both adoring and curious. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice comforting and alluring, and seeming to flow over you in a way that it had not just a few days ago, seeming to almost coat your soul.  

Self-consciously, your hand dropped from the handle, choosing to grip the side of your skirt.  “You’re welcome.  Oh and you look nice too,” you admitted, your voice just this side of stuttering.  You suddenly felt very silly about your second gift for Sy, realizing what you thought might be a fun and playful gesture might not come across that way.  You felt self conscious and awkward as he waited expectantly for your final reveal.  

On your way to his house when you stopped to grab the beer, you stood by the display filled with bouquets of flowers, partly thinking it would be a cute idea, that he would likely do the same if he showed up at your house to pick you up for a real first date instead of this hiding away game you were forcing the two of you to play because of your own insecurities about being recently widowed.  You had stood before the display trying to pick out the perfect bunch.  You wondered if Sy even had a favorite flower.  And if he did what would it be.  Are there any flowers Texas was known for?   And you realized quickly you didn’t know much about Texas or the man you were joining for dinner.  

“I have to get back to cooking,” Sy said softly, breaking you from your thoughts.  “Make yourself comfortable.  Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.  “A beer?” He raised the bottles in his hand with a soft smile, before wandering toward the kitchen at a slow pace, half watching you.  

“Water is great and I know where it is,” you insisted.  

“Nonsense,” he insisted, popping the beers in the fridge and pausing at the stove to stir something.  “Let me get it for you, grab a seat.” 

You entered his kitchen to be greeted by familiar lovely smells. “Oh my god, is that-“ you paused, smelling again, craning your neck to look at the stove from the doorway.  

Sy’s face broke into a broader smile from the sink  “It is.  I remembered how much you liked it when I made it for you a few weeks ago,” he stated, settling a glass of water near the stools at the breakfast bar.  

Your smile matched his as you watched him turn back to the stove.  “It smells as amazing as I remember. Can I do anything to help?”  

Sy glanced over his shoulder at you, a calming looking on his face.  “You can sit there and tell me about your day,” he insisted.  

You glanced at the stools and then recognized you still held your other hand behind your back.  “Hey before I do that, do you have a vase?” The eyebrow of meow appeared again and coasted high on his forehead.  “A vase?” he asked questionably, still looking at you from over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you responded, blushing.

He dropped the spoon to the stove top and nodded, licking his thumb and forefinger.  You couldn’t stop yourself from focusing on his tongue and lips as he made a soft, subtle smacking noise.  “I do,” he admitted, heading towards you, noting the look on your face with a small smirk.  You stood frozen in place as he got within an arm's reach, all the while his eyes were trained on yours.  At the last moment before he would have bumped into you, he sidestepped, brushing his arm against the one you had tucked behind your back, a half-attempt to look at what you had hidden, as if he didn’t have a clue after your one question.  “But there’s a problem,” he softly admitted, as you turned, keeping your front facing him while bending your body back to keep his last gift out of his view.  He walked into a small room off of the kitchen that you had not ventured into during your last visit, and you followed through the open folded french doors.  On the other side was a small but well appointed dining room, and in the middle of it sat a beautifully set table, including a vase in the center filled with simple daisies with a few peace roses speckled throughout them, complementary greens in between and flowing from a glass vase.  

You let out a small gasp, with a soft smile.  “Those are lovely,” you admitted, mentally comparing them to the grocery store tulips behind your back.  

“We can find a glass for the ones you are hiding.” Sy teased, making you awkwardly offer them to him.  “They are lovely too,” he told you, taking them from you, before kissing your cheek.  “You are so sweet to bring them.” 

With your skin tingling from his affections, you shrugged.  “They are just-” 

With a gentle look over his shoulder, Sy cut you off.  “The first flowers anyone ever gave me,” he amended.  “And I love them, thank you.”

Following him back into the kitchen, you watched as he grabbed a tall pint glass from the cupboard before glancing at the stove.  “Could you do the honors?” he asked, gesturing to the flowers he had laid on the counter by the sink.  “I need to finish dinner.”

“Oh of course of course!”   You slipped your shrug off, draping it over a chair as you moved quickly to the sink as he headed to the stove.  “I need a sharp knife,” you stated after looking at the bottom of the stems realizing they were dry and likely not getting any water.  

Sy didn’t move from his spot but gave you directions to find a knife to your liking.  The kitchen filled with comfortable silence along with the soft music coming from somewhere, you finally realized Sy had music playing throughout the house since you stepped foot into the house.  You usually were the same though lately you had forgone music in your everyday life because every song seemed to remind you of Jake or another Loser.  Soon you found yourself moving to Stone Free, humming along with the Hendrix song as you trimmed the ends of the flowers, placing them in the glass filled with water one by one.  If you weren’t mistaken, you might have caught Sy watching you from the stove as he filled bowls and plates with your meal.  

As you put the last bloom into the glass, the song changed and your face lit up.  “I haven’t heard this song in ages,” you lamented as Mick Jagger began singing about being free to do what he wants, any old time.   Setting the makeshift vase and its contents on the counter closer to the stove, you sang softly with Jagger as you turned to look at Sy only to find him right next to you. With a growing grin on his face, he reached for you, and pulled you into his arms, one winding around your back.  Biting your lip you looked up at him while you slid your hand into his.  With very little effort, Sy carefully danced you between the counter and the center island of his kitchen.  Eyes always on yours, he led you into the open space of the foyer, making your smile widen as you followed his lead through the house.  

'Cause I'm free

To do what I want

Any old time

Sy spun you, extending his arm for you to step out away from him before drawing you back in, pulling your body flush to his.  With a smirk, he leaned you over, dipping you as the song ended, making your face burst with a smile and a blush.  He held you there for a second,  your chests slightly pressed together, your breathing heavier than normal, staring in each other's eyes.  After a moment’s pause, Sy opened his mouth. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he admitted softly.  

Without a second thought, you simply nodded. “Then I think you should,” you barely whispered, your heart all but bursting from your chest as Sy leaned in to kiss you.  You eagerly met his lips as he pulled you into a standing positions, his hands now sitting on your spine, holding you close to him as one of your hands threaded itself through the hairs on the back of his neck, a couple of the fingers on the other hand gently gripping at the front of his shirt, sliding around one of the buttons.  Standing on your tiptoes, your lips melded with his.  At first the kiss was gentle and sweet but as Sy’s lips parted, and his tongue stroked across your lower lip, the temperature shifted.  All thought disappeared from your brain, the world disappeared, all concerns about the impropriety of this flew out the window as your tongues stroked over each other and your breathing increased.  Sy’s hand slid up your back to tangle in the hair at the base of your neck, your fingers almost matching in pressure as your kiss continued to escalate, getting lost in each other until you heard an annoying buzzer sound from the kitchen.  

Sy pressed his forehead to yours after pulling his mouth away, but made no move to detangle himself from you.  “Dinner’s gonna get cold,” he admitted.  

Your eyes stayed closed as you shrugged, not wanting to move.  “What’s ‘dinner’?”

He guffawed before kissing your nose.  “God you are adorable.”  Your grin widened as you blinked your eyes open, looking at him as he slowly released you.  Not letting go of your hand, he led you back into the kitchen.  “Can I help get this to the table?” you asked. 

Within a few minutes, the two of you were seated at the table.  This was far from the first meal you had shared, but looking around the table you couldn't help but feel a bit flushed and giddy at the measures Sy had taken for this first date.  The butterflies were still fluttering in your stomach but they had settled some as you began to eat, chatting about your day, about work, about your lives.  All these things were not new topics for the two of you to share, but it felt different, more open, more sincere.  

After dinner, Sy filled your wine glass with water and a pretty slice of lemon before leading you out into his backyard.  There was a cute little setting around a fire pit, a smattering of chairs, and benches, and the pit looked like it was ready to be sparked to life with just a single match.  Overhead were Edison bulbs strung through the trees, giving the faintest of lights.   

You followed him down the slate path, bare feet feeling the residual warmth the stones still held from the disappeared sun. As you settled into the settee, Sy made quick work with the fire, as you had predicted and joined you.   Without a second thought you curled into him, pressing yourself to his side, your head landing on his chest, your hand on his ribs.  At first he extended his arms outward, almost surprised by your actions, but he quickly recovered, draping one arm over your back and shoulder, curling his hand over your upper arm.  His other arm came to rest on his thigh, while he pressed his cheek to the top of your head.   “This ok?” You asked after a moment.  

Sy chuckled. “More than ok, hun.  More than.”  He squeezed you tighter against him. “Why wouldn’t it be?”   

You gently shrugged, eyes focused on the dancing flames in front of you.  “I don’t know.  Because you’ve been sending me different messages.” You felt your cheeks heat up.  “One second you are looking at me like I’m the only woman on the planet, and the next you are pouring me a glass of water so I’m sober enough to go home.”   

“First of all, tonight you are the only woman on the planet as far as I’m concerned,” he admitted into your hair.  “Secondly,” he paused as he wrapped his other arm around you, holding you firmer to him. “You are going home tonight.”  His arms tightened as you stiffened against him, your hand landing on his chest to push  away from him, as if he just insulted you by making decisions for you.  “This is our first date,” he reminded you.  “It wouldn’t be proper or right for anything else to happen except a lovely kiss goodnight at my door.”

Your brain warred for a few moments. Both touched and annoyed at his thoughts. “But what if I wanted more?” you ask even though you honestly didn’t know if you wanted more than what he was extending to you tonight.  You’d be a liar if you hadn’t thought about what sex with Sy would be like. But you also knew you were terrified at taking that next step with him.  In your mind, that direction was a huge step towards getting over Jake.  And you weren’t sure you wanted to get over him yet.  You weren’t ready to assign him to your past, put him on a shelf. He was, is, forever will be part of you.  

You felt Sy kiss the top of your head, followed by a scruffy peck on your forehead.  His hand cupped you under the chin, turning you to look up at him.  He skimmed his hand over your cheek, catching tears on his thumb, tears you didn’t even know you had cried.  “Because this,” he held up his damp digit.  “Tells me you are just as scared as I am by the next step.”

Your eyes fly from his hand to meet his blue eyes in the shadows cast by the fire light, confused and a little stung by his words.  “You are scared of sleeping with me?” 

Sy sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts.  He tightened his hold on you, his hand landing on your cheek again.  “Yes and no,” he admitted, his eyes slowly opening.  You could see so much swirling in there, wishing you could read them.  “I am partly scared I will wind up just being the man who helps you get over the heartbreak of losing Jake.  That I’m the one who’s gonna put you back together only for you to find someone else when you are whole again.” His words stung hard, piercing through your heart.   

“I am not asking you to put me back together,” you assert, pulling back from him.  You fully extract yourself from him.  “I can do that on my own.  I thought this was something more than just that.” Abruptly you stood, making to move around him, intent on grabbing your things and going.  You didn’t need his pity date.  

“Sugar no,” he expressed, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you back.  He turned on the seat to face you, his legs on either side of you as you stood, arms crossed, staring at the house, not at him.  “This is more than that.  So much more than that,” he assured you, dropping his arm from your waist.  His hand reaches for your arm, gently tugging it from your chest, sliding his hand up your forearm to twine your fingers with his.  After a few silent moments, he sighed.  “I’m just scared,” he admitted.  “Very scared. Of losing you mostly.  You are the best thing to happen to me. Your pain and your struggles only highlight how incredible you are.  I’m scared you are going to get through the pain of losing Jake, and realize I was just something to hold onto so you didn’t lose yourself while you were healing.” You turned to look at him as his voice cracked. “That I was a mistake.”

Tears in his eyes were your undoing, the hurt you felt disappeared. Cupping his cheek, you stepped forward.  “Never a mistake, Sy,” you assured him.  “Never.”  He wrapped his arms around your waist and hips and drew you close to him. He pressed his face to your belly as your hand landed on his head.  “You have been my light, my guiding light as I work through all this. No matter how this works out between us, I will never think of you as a mistake.”  

The two of you stayed like that for an untold amount of time, your hand flowing over his shaved head. His face stuffed into your belly, your thighs pressed to his chest as you stared into the stars beyond the tree limbs surrounding you.  Sy felt right in a way that even Jake never did.  

With guilt you looked up into the sky, hoping Jake could forgive you for that.  You loved him, still loved him so so much. But what you had found with Sy was different, more supportive, more mature, more fulfilling.  You felt more tears fall from your eyes as you stared at the stars, remembering the first time you saw the milky way was with Jake, remembering that your first time for a lot of things was with Jake, remembering there was going to be no more first times with Jake.  

Unexpectedly and surprisingly, Sy drew you into his lap, settling back on the sofa.  Your knees landed on the cushion on either side of his hips as you allowed yourself to be manhandled into his embrace.  You both buried your faces into each other's neck. It was only then that you realized you were crying, nay sobbing.  You clung to Sy as rough as he clung to you, the two of you riding this emotional roller coaster together but separate.  But most importantly together.  Together you could weather whatever was thrown at you.  With him at your side, you could face your fears of the unknown, of the changes that you were going to meet.  You knew you could do it alone but you also knew you didn’t have to as long as he was around.  

Authors Note 2: The first time reader saw the milky way with Jake can be seen here.

Tags:

General Tag List: @littleone65 @mysweetlittledesire @jvanilly @identity2212 @avengersfan25 @foxyjwls007 BBTF Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sconnie-doesnt-know @ronearoundlightly @toooldforobsessions Syverson Tag List: @mrsevans90 HC Tag List: @m07belzen @used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hawklin @geralts-yenn @summersong69

As always if you wanted to be added or removed from a tag let me know.

#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 #syverson fanfic #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x ofc #syverson #syverson x reader #syverson smut #cpt syverson #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 26

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 25 🍂 Part 27

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Pregnancy things, some tension, some fluff...

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: After a short hiatus of *checks notes* nearly 2 months, HERE WE ARE AGAIN! I wasn't in the mood to write this for such a long time, but now... apparently I am. (Maybe it has something to do with @keanureevesisbae's unexpected return to Tumblr with a Spencer Reid fic I'm dying to find out more about...)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @beck07990 @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @livisss @sofiebstar @keanureevesisbae

“I’ve changed my mind,” you growled. Hugging toilet bowls had never been a hobby, and you were doing it a lot more now than ever before. You had tried to send Sy away exactly once, and failed miserably. Now, he was sitting behind you, holding your hair back while you still tried to hide what you were doing from his sight. You were going to have to become a lot more comfortable with a lot of things over the next few months…

“I wish I could do anything to help, Sugar,” Sy sighed. You could tell he felt powerless and useless. Sidelined. But as far as you were concerned, he wasn’t on the sidelines for this one. He was smack in the middle of all of it. In fact…

“This is your fault,” you snarled as you let your head hang. The echo inside the toilet made it sound extremely melodramatic, but who gave a damn? You had been throwing up almost non-stop for what felt like ages. In reality, it had been two weeks – and you hadn’t been throwing up non-stop, it just felt like it sometimes. Nevertheless, it had been two long, excruciating weeks that had made you really grateful for every day of your life you had spent… God, how to put it... Non-nauseated and happy?

“How is this my fault?” Oh no, poor man. You had definitely been taking out some extra frustration on him - which he didn’t deserve at all, by the way. He was nothing short of an absolutely ideal boyfriend.

“You knocked me up,” you said, pouting at him. A smirk took over his face. You knew that look.

“I did, didn’t I?” Good God. It had taken both of you a few days – and the confirmation by your doctor that you were really pregnant – to get used to the idea a bit, but ever since the news had settled in… The easiest way of putting it would be that Sy was just very proud of himself. And of you, that went without saying, but there was definitely a new level of swagger and attitude surrounding him in everything he did.

He took every bit as much care of you as before – which you occasionally struggled with, still – and now that you were working on a whole new human, he had doubled down on those efforts. And let’s be real; you deserved it. You were building a baby, dammit. At night, his hand had permanently relocated to your stomach. It was a good thing; over the past week or so your boobs had really been giving you hell. You had yet to break the news to Sy that there was a significant chance that particular playground would remain closed for the foreseeable future… He wasn’t going to like that, you were pretty sure of it.

The sound of running water was unexpected, but not nearly enough to actually make you look up. It was the nudge against your shoulder that finally did that, and you saw Sy holding out a glass of water for you. Rinsing wasn’t enough to get the taste out of your mouth, but it sure as hell wasn’t for lack of trying.

“You should drink some,” Sy pointed out. He was right, of course. “Can you get up?” He helped you off the floor and into the shower before announcing that he was going downstairs to make you a cup of tea. You sighed – what else could you do? – not because you didn’t appreciate the gesture, or even because you didn’t want the tea. Peppermint tea usually helped with the nausea, so that was a definite bonus. You were just sad that Sy’s arms wouldn’t be around you anymore, and also sad you couldn’t have coffee.

He returned a little while later. You hadn’t even gotten around to washing your hair yet. Instead, you’d just been standing around, warming up…  

“Do you mind if I join you?” Sy asked. He was already naked in front of you, what the hell did he expect you to say other than ‘ehm, hell yeah!’ Although the flat little hum you let out lacked his preferred enthusiasm, you were definitely still thinking it? Did that count? You decided it counted. Sy seemed to be of a slightly different opinion, raising an eyebrow at you as if to ask you a question. You knew which one, and of course you still loved him.

“Please come here and hug me?” You said, stretching your arms out to him. Sy stepped into the shower with you and held you for all of two seconds before he started kissing you. At first, you tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Sy! I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you said. It didn’t look like this man was going to take no for an answer.

“I’ll happily kiss you anywhere else, Sugar.” He lifted you as if you weighed nothing and kissed your neck. He had shown you time and time again that he could throw you around like it didn’t mean a thing, and you were always really happy about it.

“Sy, not today.” He put you down with a grunt of frustration. You’d been turning him down consistently for weeks now – even before the engagement/birthday party, there had been some time with plenty of reasons not to. Some hadn’t changed – tired, pain, not feeling well – some were new – baby, hormones. It’s not like you wanted to say no, it’s just that you were tired and feeling sick, and it was a hassle.

“Do you even remember how we got in this situation, Sugar?” Sy said through gritted teeth. His irritation rubbed you the wrong way. Yes, you did. As a matter of fact, the memories of your previously very active sex life haunted you in your unusually vivid dreams – and even those weren’t enough to get you to wake up in the mood for sex. And the fact that Sy was pushing for it, really didn’t help. “Sugar, I honest to God just miss you. But it’s fine. Just give me five minutes and I’ll come to bed.” Oh. It was nice to know that he wasn’t just asking because he wanted to get laid, that really helped settle the irritation that had started burning inside you. You got out of the shower and got ready for bed, already thinking about the peppermint tea that was waiting for you on your nightstand, and hoping vigorously that it would help settle the nausea as it always did.

You thought about what Sy said in the shower while you carefully sipped the hot beverage. He missed you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him, but why did it have to be that? Your thoughts were interrupted by the sounds emerging from the shower. You’d heard them plenty of times before, yet it somehow still felt like a massive violation of his privacy. He’d disagree; it was routine for him, he wouldn’t even stop when you walked into the bathroom before he was done. In fact, you suspected he liked that you took little peeks at him in the mirror, too shy to actually turn around and watch him – and you were pretty sure that if you did turn around to watch him, he’d love that, too.

Your thoughts went back to the issue of his intimacy cravings when the water shut off. He still had to take care of his beard – probably the one thing about his appearance he was a little vain about – which gave you a little time to think things over. There was no doubt in your mind – or anyone else’s – that Sy was a very physical guy when it came to loving you, and not always the best with words. He basically worshipped you, always taking care of you, always wanting to touch you… Why did you treat that like such a bad thing when it wasn’t? The things he did for you… You never got the idea that he was doing them just to get laid. In fact, you never got the idea he wanted anything in return. What if your big guy just wanted to love his woman the best way he knew how?

#syverson x ofc #syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson fluff #cpt syverson #syverson fic #henry cavill characters #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill

[j-elaine-hyde]

Then - Part One

[Prequel to Now & Then] Captain Syverson x Reader

Fluff, 18+ just because, WC: 3,100 exactly.

“Y/n… hurry up! Fuck!” Randy yelled from the kitchen. Randy was kind of an asshole.

You scrambled to put on your apron before grabbing a tray full of glasses, balancing it on your way to the back. You were new and trying your best. Thankfully the VFW wasn’t too terribly busy yet. That, and the regulars were almost always nice to you.

You had taken this job out of desperation. You’d been living on a friends couch and trying to get your feet underneath you. The manager was a friend of yours and knew the old men who patronized the bar would love you. “You’re pretty… and smart. You’ll give those old timers a run for their money.” He said.

By the second month you already had quite a few regulars coming in on your shifts just to see you. You talked with them, listened to their stories, and respected what they had done for our country. Not many people your age really got it or understood. But you did. They appreciated that.

It was a quiet Thursday night, only a few regular members were hanging out. A table full of guys played cards while you walked through taking their empties.

“Y/n… I have someone I want you to meet.” Charlie, one of your favorite regulars began, “He’s a very good man.”

Wilbur chimed in, “Don’t do it toots… he’s short!”

“He is not! Logans tall! So tall! And smart. He’s very smart.” Charlie retorted.

“I don’t know kid… sounds too good to be true. Tall and smart?” Arthur laughed as he shuffled the cards.

Frank couldn’t resist, “I bet he’s ugly.”

You were laughing as the old men discussed your potential suitor. Whom you had no intention of meeting in the first place.

“Shut it Frank. He’s not ugly. He’s a good lookin kid. He’s tall, he’s smart. He’s a good man. He’s a soldier. A captain.” Charlie looked around the table mean mugging the other men, almost daring them to speak up.

You smiled, “Oh Charlie… I don’t really have time -“

He interrupted you, “Just meet him. Be nice to him. That’s all I’m asking. Smile at him.”

“What’s in it for you Charlie?” Wilbur questioned scratching his bald head.

“Nothing. I just wanna see these two kids happy. They’re both good kids. That’s rare these days.” Charlie patted your hand as you grabbed his empty glass.

“Thank you Charlie. That’s very sweet of you but-“

Charlie smiled, “Don’t say another word. He’ll be here in about five minutes.”

Panic spread through your entire body, “Charlie… You didn’t… Are you serious?”

‘Of course I’m serious. Why would I joke about something like that? You look great kid…. Don’t worry about it. You’ll knock his socks off!”

“Ya know… on second thought, maybe run a brush through your hair and throw on a little lippy.” Frank chimed in.

“Thanks Frank. I’ll remember you said that.”

He grumbled and muttered in response, “I’m just trynna be helpful.”

You ran your tray back to the bar and ducked into the restroom. You didn’t necessarily want to meet this guy Charlie was trying to set you up with, but you also didn’t want to look bad either. What if he was a nice handsome guy? Those don’t just drop out of the sky. And a marine? You did love a man in uniform. Just maybe not the ones you were surrounded by nowadays.

Looking yourself over in the mirror you reached into your purse and pulled out some eyeliner, re-did your mascara and put on some cherry chapstick. You pulled hair out of its elastic and fluffed it. You tried remembering how many days it’d been since you’d washed it and if it was clean enough to get away with wearing it down. Thankfully it was and having had it up in the elastic gave it a nice bit of volume. As you looked yourself over in the mirror, you sighed looking at your reflection. ‘This will have to do.’ You thought as you adjusted your tank top and hiked up your shorts ever so slightly. ‘That’s better.’

You heard the door chime and took a deep breath. Rushing out of the bathroom and chucking your purse back behind the bar as you plastered a warm smile on your face only to see Sid, one of your cantankerous regulars.

“The usual Sid?” You hollered at the slow moving gentleman with the cane.

“A course… what else would it be! I’m 82 years old… you think I’m gonna change it up now?!”

You swore yelling at you kept him moving. His grumpiness gave him the energy he needed to function. You poured a domestic beer from the tap and carried it over to the card game as the gentleman shuffled their seats groaning and grumbling as they welcomed Sid to the table.

“You changed your hair!” Arthur barked as you sat Sid’s drink in front of him. “What’d you do that for? I thought you said you weren’t interested in Charlie’s boy?”

“Who’s not interested?” A deep gruff southern accent belonging to someone much younger than the standard clientele asked.

You stood up straight, eyes wide, your back facing the sexy sounding stranger.

Charlie winked at you and gave you a thumbs up. Frank froze and very slowly gave you the ‘ok’ symbol, looking extremely obvious. While you were fairly certain he was trying to be nonchalant.

“Logan! You’re here! We’ll deal you in. This is Y/n. Y/n is a very nice girl. Be nice to her. She’ll get you a drink.” Charlie smiled warmly at the both of you.

You spun around as Logan reached out and touched your elbow. Expecting someone smaller you had to look up at him. He was huge. He was well over six foot and broad chested. He was thick and muscular. If there was ever a man built like a mountain it was him. He was bearded and wore a ball cap, his tee shirt was tight and accentuated his muscles. His jeans fit perfectly. You felt butterflies and heat as you looked up at him.

“Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Logan.”

Your mouth went dry. You blinked at him, staring at his giant outstretched hand.

“Get with it kid.” Wilbur whispered, cracking a smile on your face.

“Hi I’m Y/n. What can I get you?”

“A date!” Frank chimed in.

“Take her to dinner!” Sid coughed.

Y/n pursed your lips and and closed your eyes. You opened them slowly as you started to walk towards the bar. Logan followed you.

“I wonder if they want us to go on a date…” he smirked.

“How can you tell? They’re very subtle.” You felt at ease with him. You also felt a fire start in your belly that radiated through your entire body.

“I’ll say one thing…Charlie definitely under sold you. You’re gorgeous. He said you were nice to look at.. he didn’t tell me I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off of you.” Logan was laying it on thick.

“Wow. Um… thank you.”

“What time do you get off? I’d like to buy you… a drink.”

“You realize that’s funny, because I’m the bartender, right…” you winked at him as you poured a Budweiser draft into a glass, before sliding it to him.

“How did you know?” He looked at you confused as he took a sip.

“It’s a talent. A completely useless one. But a talent, nonetheless.”

“What time do you get off?” He repeated himself, moving closer.

You could smell him. His cologne swirled with his manly woodsy scent. It was heaven. The closer he got the faster your heart beat.

You licked her lips, “In about ten minutes…” you smiled at him as he quickly looked at his watch.

“Perfect.”

———

The two of you sat at a quiet table in a far corner for the last two hours talking nonstop. The conversation flowed as easily as the drinks. The old men watched on with approval, Charlie smarting the rest of his friends, proud that he had made a successful match.

Logan was gorgeous. His deep ocean blue eyes were mesmerizing. You kept staring at his plump lips unable to help imagining what it would be like to kiss them. To feel them on your skin. You stared, awestruck at his immense size. You wanted to climb him like a tree. You also had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t have minded in the slightest.

Charlie came over, patting Logan on the back. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I’m headed out. You kids have fun tonight.”

You jumped up and hugged Charlie tight. “Thank you Charlie.” You whispered in his ear.

He winked back at you and tapped the side of his nose. Logan stood up and shook his hand. You both told him goodnight and goodbye as he shuffled out of the bar.

“I love him. He’s my favorite. But don’t tell the others I said so.” You laughed as you crossed your arms on the table and pushed your cleavage forward.

Logan smiled at you, “I think you’re his favorite too. He’s been telling me about you since you started.”

“What? He has?” You were legitimately completely surprised.

Logan nodded, “Oh yeah. The first night you worked he called me. ‘Logan!” He barked, doing his best Charlie impression, “Logan there’s this new girl at the V. She’s a hot ticket.”

You laughed, “what does that even mean?”

“I have no clue.” He laughed.

His laughter was music to your ears. You could tell by the way he carried himself that what you were witnessing was a rarity. You knew he wasn’t like this with anyone else. He was serious and stern. Manly and in charge. He was a hard ass. You didn’t know why you got to see this side of him, but you loved it.

“Logan. You have to come down to the V. He’d say… she’s built well. Super sweet. You have to come down and meet her before one of the old geezers sets her up with somebody else.’ I loved when he called them old geezers.” Logan smiled as he told you things Charlie had said to him.

Logan zoned out staring at your lips as you laughed.

“What?” You searched his face for answers.

“You’re very beautiful. Your lips are…” he reached out and thumbed your lower lip.

“Kiss her already.” Both you and Logan jumped. They had been too wrapped up staring at each other to notice Frank had marched over. “Don’t let me interrupt. Y/n. I need quarters and Bob is too busy.”

“Sure thing Frank. I’ll be right back.” You took his five dollars and went to the bar.

“We might be old. And you might be the size of a Rhino… but that’s our girl. You better treat her right, you hear me sonny?”

“Yes sir. I hear you.” Logan nodded and shook his hand.

You came back with his quarters in a cup. You rattled it before handing it to him. “Here you are Frank. Can I get you anything else?”

“I’m good doll face. Get back to making eyes at the Rhino.” He waved over his head as he hobbled back to his table.

“Did he just call you a Rhino?” You burst out laughing trying to be quiet about it.

“He did. And to be honest, I’m a little afraid of him.” Logan raised his eyebrows as he pretended to watch his back. “Do you play darts?”

“I do… not well. But I play.” As you looked at him you had to fight the overwhelming urge to lunge forward and wrap your arms around his neck. All you wanted to do was touch him.

“Maybe I can help you. We can wager if you’d like. Might play a little better with some skin in the game.” He looked at you with a curious glance.

“What’ll it be? $20?”

“No. Money is boring. If I win… you have to do tequila shots with me.” He looked up at with only his eyes, it sent shockwaves through you.

“And if I win?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“We’ll see.”

You laughed loudly at his response. “Oh ye of little faith. I’ll get the darts.”

You marched defiantly up to the bar to retrieve the darts. You could feel Logan’s eyes on you the entire way. You might have added a little extra swing to your hips than normal. Once at the bar you filled another beer for Logan and watched as he lumbered over to the scoreboard and began cleaning it. You liked the way he ran the room even when he wasn’t trying.

You swallowed hard as you watched him, looking at the ceiling and whispering another ‘Thank you Charlie’ into the universe.

“You’re going down chump!” You postured as you handed him his beer with a smile.

He shook his head and smiled down at you. “Bring it beautiful… let’s see how you do.” He was itching for a reason to touch you. He found his first excuse when you stepped over the line. He reached out and pulled you back by your hips. “Ahh ahh ahhh… over the line sweetheart.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, a grin across your face. “I should get a handicap. You’re enormous.”

Instead of releasing you he moved closer, leaving his hands where they were. Your back pressed to his chest, you craned around to smile at him. Feeling the heat radiate off of his body made you want to shed his clothes. While you were thinking of him, he was breathing in your perfume.

“I’m going to leave you here. Trusting that you won’t go over the line this turn…” he whispered to you before dramatically removing his hands from your waist and backing away. You rolled your eyes in response as you threw the dart.

It was the nearing the end of the game and Logan was most certainly in the lead. You had both been finding reasons to touch each other. You were smiling and laughing and having fun. Anyone watching could tell you were both smitten.

“Listen here beautiful… I’m about two throws away from those body shots. You ready?”

Your mouth dropped open, “Body shots?” You locked your eyes on his, a mischievous grin growing in response.

“Yea. I said tequila shots. That’s body shots. I get to take them off of you, and I get to pick where you take them off of me… that was the bet.”

You laughed, “was that in the uh… fine print?”

“You didn’t read it?” He winked.

“Always skip it… bites me in the ass every time.”

He moved in close, whispering in your ear, “Babygirl… you gotta read the fine print…”

You blushed as he brushed passed you on his way to the line. You watched as the muscles in his arm flexed at the simple motion of throwing a dart. You text the bartender asking for tequila shots. You had a plan.

The waitress delivered the shots and he smiled and nodded at her, thanking her. You reached out and grabbed his left arm, holding his wrist in one hand and the salt shaker in the other, slowly you licked the inside of his forearm and sprinkled salt. You picked up the lime and gingerly placed it between his lips.

“If you’ll be so kind, I have a shot to take.” You seductively smiled at him as he nodded.

You placed a sloppy sucking kiss on his arm where the salt was placed, downed your shot and pulled him in for a kiss, biting the lime out of his lips you quickly sucked it and dropped it out of your mouth, pulling him back in to continue the kiss. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist pulling your body tight against his. He deepened the kiss, moving a single hand down to your butt, palming it firmly with his giant hand.

You pulled back, breaking the kiss, and smiled at him, your arms still around his neck. “Its your turn.”

“This is a sticky predicament… I could go cliche and put my shot glass between your fantastic tits…and lick your neck as my salt…” he trailed off. “But where to put the lime…” he whispered in your ear as he nuzzled your neck, brushing his lips against your pulse point.

You felt your head swim at his close proximity, almost feeling faint.

He took the shot without salt, without lime. He grabbed you and leaned you back, pulling you in for a kiss, dipping you down before standing you back on your feet and patting you on the butt.

The waitress came by for the empty glasses. “Last call sugar… You two want anything else before I close out?”

You shook her head ‘no’, “Thanks Maggie.” You tried to come back down to Earth.

“Sure thing sugar. Looks like you two had fun!”

Logan sat down and pulled you onto his lap. “Did you have fun tonight babygirl?”

You turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I sure did. Did you hon?”

“Nights not over yet baby…” he smirked and patted your rear.

“Logan… we just closed down the bar…”

He held out his forearm and pointed to the spot where you licked/kissed him. “See that spot right there?”

“Yeah… that’s where I kissed you.”

“That’s the first place you ever placed those gorgeous lips… and I never want to forget as long as I live.”

You leaned down and kissed it again.

“I'm going to tattoo that on my arm. I know a guy… let’s pay him a visit.” Logan placed two hundred dollars on the table in cash and bounced his knee. You stood up looking at him with a slightly confused stare.

“You’re…you’re g-gonna what?” You stammered.

“We are going to get your lips, tattooed on my arm. Right here. Tonight. You wanna go?”

You laughed and squinted at him, trying to see if he was serious. “Oh you’re serious…” you looked at him sideways.

“As a heart attack. Let’s go, baby. Right now.” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, placing a sweet kiss in your palm, and moving to place a second on your wrist. You looked up at him, an unfamiliar feeling in your chest. Taking your hand in his he led you out of the bar.

To Be Continued...

#captain syverson #cpt syverson #syverson fic #syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #syverson x you #romance #fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #henry cavill

[missacidburn928]

Chapter 2 Part 2 now up on ao3

The Way That You Kiss Me When I'm Drinking Whiskey PART II

#captain syverson smut #syverson x reader #cpt syverson #captain syverson x you #captain syverson fic #captain syverson x reader #syverson x you #syverson fluff #syverson fic #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson smut #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #poc reader #ex bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic

[hertzwritings]

Yes, professor

A/N: I watched Sandcastle. I’m ruined.

Feedback feeds the soul, my loves! Requests are always open.

MASTERLIST

HENRY CAVILL + CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairings: College!Professor!Cap. Syverson x female reader (no descriptiors)

Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI, please), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, creampie, unprotecetd sex, language, age gap (reader is over 18)

You were late. Like, really, really late. You were rushing the halls, trying desperately to find the right room for Modern History 1, where your first class of the day took place. You already knew you weren't in good graces, judging by the clipped email, the professor had sent out about being late for class - he definitely didn't have a lot of leeway for coming in late.

As you stood in front of the door to the lecture hall, you were seriously considering just skipping it.

Instead you grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, stepping inside and hurried to an empty seat - which, of course, only was on the front rows. Wonderful. You looked at him and instantly had to suck in a breath; this was not a professor, this was a bodybuilder. A tree. A god. Arms were bulging behind the flimsy fabric of his shirt, his thighs strechted the fabric of his pants to a point, where you doubted they'd hold up if he went for a squat. His face was gorgeous, rugged and he looked like he could cleave wood with the back of his hand, which had you reeling over the veins, that popped out as he wrote something down on a piece of paper in front of you.

“Miss Y/L/N, did you not read my mail?” His voice rang clear as day through the hall. It was stern and dark, and he hadn’t even looked up from his papers. You grimaced and sat down, wondering briefly how he knew your name before remembering his list of students - you were probably the only one who wasn't present as he called out names.

“Sorry.” “Not good enough. I’ll let it slide for this time…” He looked to you, stopping himself mid sentence as his eyes roamed your chest and face, a devious smile playing at the corner of his lips. “But I’ll need you to see me in my office after hours.” You nodded and bit your lip. Great, not even a week into the semester, and you were already going to get written up.

“Think you can manage getting there on time?” Your face was burning.

“Yes, sir.” “Good girl.” Your breath hitched at the voice it almost sounded like praise and his southern drawl made his voice smoother than whiskey.

“Now, back to the Second Congo War…”

---------------------------

You had been writhing in your seat during the full lecture. He kept glancing at you, that fucking smile on his lips, exposing his teeth slightly and it made you feel hot every time you saw a flash of his fucking fangs. He must’ve known how you were feeling, because he constantly called on you and you were wildly unprepared for a quiz.

His arms were bulging against the buttoned, light blue shirt he was wearing, and a part of you wondered if a quick movement would rip the fabric in half as he crossed his arms and leaned against the desk in the middle of the room. You kept zoning out, focusing more on his arms, thighs and that one goddamn vein in his neck that kept popping out.

He had caught you staring a few times and each time, a smirk had graced his lips and he had cleared his throat, making your cheeks burn and you to look down as quickly as you could.

“Alright, get caught up to the reading, I’ll have your goddamn heads if you show up unprepared tomorrow. Y/L/N, down here.” He said as the class finished beckoning you down with a finger, his eyes on the papers on the table. You walked down to him, painfully aware of your bare legs and the triangle of slick that had gathered in your underwear during class.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” He looked at you with a lifted eyebrow. “I don’t tolerate students being late.” He said, sitting down and crossing his leg over his knee, leaning back - he looked fucking dangerously sinful. “I’m sorry, I got lost in the hall…” You started. “I don’t care. If I have class, you’re here.” You nodded. “If I call your name, you better answer correctly, darlin’, or I’ll have your ass.” You felt your cheeks heat up yet again. “Yes, sir.” His eyes gleamed. “My office. 30 minutes.” He dictated and you didn’t dare do anything else but nod again. “Yes, sir.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand and you quickly left, cheeks on fire and an unsettling heat in your stomach.

You went straight to the bathroom, splashing water on your face and adjusted your shirt. “Get it the fuck together.” You whispered to yourself before rushing to the cafeteria and bought a bottle of water, chugging it and glanced at the clock. You might as well be early.

You sat on the wooden chair outside of his office, watching the time tick away, and a minute before time was up, you stood, smoothed your skirt down, drew a deep breath and knocked.

“Yes?” His voice rang out. You walked inside and shut the door behind you. “Lock it.” You followed orders, although you were unsure why.

He had shed his blue shirt and sat in a tattered Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt that splayed across his chest - it looked like it was about to pop at the seams.

“Sit.” You did and looked at him, your hands folded in your lap. He let his eyes wander your body, resting shortly at the swell of your breasts. He stood up and leaned over the desk, his face inches from yours. He was intoxicating, his blue eyes hard and a scent of harpics and pine lingered over him.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He asked in a brash voice. You nodded and he narrowed his eyes. “Words.” He practically spat at you.

“Yes, sir.” “Why?” You shifted a little in the chair, and felt your skirt ride up - you saw his eyes quickly dart to the exposed skin.

“I was late.” He hummed and stepped around the desk to stand against it in front of you. “And?” You frowned. And what? “I’m sorry?” He crossed his arms.

“And you weren’t focused or prepared for class.” You sighed. “I’m really sorry, I had an off day, and I…” You trailed off at the glare he sent you. He pushed off of the desk and placed his hands on the chair, capturing you in between his arms.

“I don’t care if you watched your dog die in front of you, you either tell me you aren’t prepared or aren't showing up, or you. Fucking. Show. Up.” His voice was dangerously low.

“Yes, sir.” He drew a deep breath and sent you a smirk that made you squeeze your thighs together - which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He chuckled darkly.

“Am I making you feel some type of way, Y/L/N?” you bit your lip. “Sir, I’m…” He swallowed hard, eyes trained on your heaving chest. “I saw how you were looking at me during class.” He stated. You nodded, not bothering to lie or deny. “You have a dirty mind, Y/N?” He asked in a low voice, the sound of your name rolling off his tongue made you shiver.

“Yes.” “Yes, what?” His hand was on your arm now. “Yes, sir.” He grinned dangerously and dipped his head to yours, lips almost touching. “Good girl.”

In a fraction of a second, he had you on your feet, turned you around and pushed you against the desk, his hands on your chest - you mewled at the feeling of his rough fingers tugging harshly on your pointed nipples, and his fingertips travelled quickly from your clothed nipples to the top of your shirt. He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Are you attached to this shirt?” “Uhm, a little…” He ripped it straight down the middle and smiled wickedly at you. “Not anymore.” Now, with your breasts free, he attacked you again, fingers nimbly rolling and tugging your nipples as your head fell back and you moaned.

“You’re a fucking dirty girl, aren’t you?” He whispered, letting one hand wander down to the edge of your skirt, inching it up.

“If you don’t want this, you better fucking tell me now, because I aint goin’ back after going up here.” He grumbled, the tips of his fingers grazing your heat. You groaned. “I want this, sir.” You moaned, arching your back.

“You’re fucking dripping.” He rumbled and pushed you to sit on the desk, spreading your legs and pushing your thong to the side, slipping a finger inside of you and without pause, he started to pump his finger, curling it against your g-spot.

You felt dirty, halfway laying, halfway sitting on his desk, spread out in front of him, as his mouth found your nipple - you groaned and rolled your hips against his fingers, the sound of your wet, throbbing pussy almost filling the room.

“Shit…” He said, grabbing your hair and forcing you to look at him as he added another thick finger, his eyes boring into yours.

“You want to be fucked by your professor?” he asked lowly, dragging against your walls. You nodded and he pounded his fingers in you, making you gasp soundlessly. The palm of his hand rested on your clit, pressing down on it and your legs twitched around him, close to falling into pleasure. “What did I fucking tell you, dirty girl?” He growled, pressing harder down on your clit as he impaled you on his fingers. “Fuck!” You couldn’t focus on what he wanted from you, feeling yourself teetering on the edge, almost exploding in pleasure. “Use. Your. Fucking. Words.” Every word was punctuated by another deep plunge into you.

“Yes! Yes, fuck me, please!” You gritted through your teeth. “Want to come on my fingers, darlin’?” he almost commanded you to do it. “Yes…” “Yes, what?” He growled. You rolled your hips against him, every nerve in you was on fire.

“Fuck, yes, sir!” He picked up the pace and bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before letting it go and his eyes burned into you.

“Come for me.” You exploded around his fingers, feeling yourself gush over his fingers as you moaned and writhed under him, riding your orgasm out on his fingers shamelessly.

He didn’t give you time to come down, but slid his fingers out from you and grabbed your hips, lifting you from the desk and turning you over, bending you over the desk as he pushed your skirt up, bundling it on your hips and pushed your chest down into the cool wood.

“You’re dripping for me, huh?” He whispered. You moaned as you heard his zipper go, and your body tensed in anticipation.

“I’m goin’ to fucking punish you now.” He growled, his hand falling on your exposed ass, eliciting a squeal from you. He wasn’t holding back.

“Count ’em.” He rumbled as his hand went harshly to your ass, once, twice, five and ten times. At the end, your slick was almost running down your legs and tears were welling in your eyes. He chuckled. “Want me?” He was so fucking collected, it almost made you angry. “Yes, sir, please.” Your voice was needy as he pushed the tip against your folds. “You’re so wet, you like bein’ punished, huh?” You could hear his smirk. “By you, sir.” You were skirting a line, you shouldn’t, and you knew it. He groaned and pushed into you, stretching you to an uncomfortable degree. “Fuck, you’re big…” You moaned as he forced his length deeper, but he just chuckled. “You’ll take me.” He rumbled and pushed against your cervix. He moaned, the sound sending flames licking up and down your skin, and he didn’t give you time to adjust - he began dragging his length against your walls in a speed that was impossible for you to handle. Filthy sounds rolled from your mouth as he fucked you hard with his thick cock, his groans matcing you. His fingers went to your nipples and tugged them harshly. You bucked under him and he picked up the pace.

His left hand went to your ass, cupping, grabbing and diggin his fingers into it, and his hips stuttered against you. “I’m going to fill you, and you’re going to take it, hear me?” He mumbled between moans, rutting hard against you. “Yes, sir.” He groaned and leaned over you, his chest flush with your back and his teeth found your sensitive skin right at the junction of your throat and shoulder. You mewled and bucked your hips, the orgasm slamming into you as a freight train.

He roared as he came, filling you with his spend fucking you until your legs buckled under you. He pulled out, chuckling at the sight of your spent hole, throbbing and leaking. He smacked your ass for good measure before zipping his pants.

You pulled your skirt down and sighed unhappily at the sight of your ruined shirt. You were going to have a shitty time walking through campus. He quirked his eyebrow at you and handed you his blue shirt. You looked at it, dumbfounded.

“It’s just a shirt.” You took it with a small smile.

“Thank you, sir.” He cupped your face in his hand and finally kissed you. It was soft and surprisingly chaste considering his cum was currently leaking out of you.

“You can call me Luke when we’re here.”

-------------------------------------

TAGLIST:

@acaceta @summersong69 @luclittlepond @keiva1000

@a-skov @thatonechickhere @summersong69 @themanfromu

@spookyboogyuniverse @one-sweet-gubler @timetraveller4

@angelmather1 @kebabgirl67 @yourlocalhoney

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #the witcher #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x you smut #captain syverson #cap syverson #syverson x reader #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson x reader #syverson x ofc #syverson smut #cpt syverson #smut #henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut fic

[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 23

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 6.5K

Warnings: Party time, Family Drama, Hand Job, Dom/Sub Undertones

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @athenepromachos @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019

A/N: Find the chapter playlist here!

Day 204

After they’d finished setting up, Leah went to the bathroom to change. When she returned, Sy momentarily forgot how to breathe. She wore a black long-sleeved dress with thigh high socks and a pair of simple black Vans. The flowy skirt of the dress was short, ending a few inches above the socks and showing off her tattoos.

“Please tell me you’re wearing underwear under that,” he blurted out before he could think better of it.

Leah closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Wanna check and make sure?” she teased.

Sy hesitated for a second but decided to trust that if Leah was offering it was because she was prepared for the possibility of him saying yes. His hands followed the curve of her ass downwards, slipping under the hem of her dress and following her soft skin all the way to the edge of the boyshorts she’d put on under her dress.

“Good girl,” he praised, reassured that he wouldn’t have to threaten anyone with bodily harm for catching a glimpse of Leah’s ass.

The next hour passed in a blur of names and good food. Caleb knew his way around a grill, that was for sure. Throughout their dinner, everyone took a moment to greet Leah and welcome her home.

Once the plates had been cleared, a few of the guys prepared the fire pit. Sy was happy to see that it was one of those chiminea style ones. Fire combined with dozens of drunk boys was often a recipe for injuries or forest fires but that was less likely with an enclosed flame.

The music was turned up as guests started moving to the open space that apparently served as a dance floor. Leah was chatting with Killian and Trevor—two of her friends from high school—along with Camden, Lachlan and his girlfriend, Isobel.

At first, Camden and Lachlan had used every possible opportunity to grill Sy but eventually they either gave up or decided he wasn’t so bad and they turned their focus back to catching up with Leah.

Killian was in the middle of telling a story about some girl he’d been seeing when Sy’s phone rang. He frowned as he saw the video call request, briefly hesitating whether or not to ignore it, but he eventually decided he should take the call.

“Sorry,” he kissed Leah’s temple as he stood, “itʼs my sister. Iʼll be inside.”

The cabin was surprisingly well insulated, the sound of the music being nearly completely muffled as he closed the door behind him.

“Hey Liv.”

His sister didn’t return his greeting, jumping right into what she had to say.

“I called mama to know what night we should come over for family dinner and she said you’d gone chasin’ after some girl! Ya didn’t think to say goodbye?”

The old couch in the lounge area creaked as Sy’s weight sank into the cushions.

“To be honest, I didn’t think you’d notice. Ya didn’t mention y’all were plannin’ on comin’ by again.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

Sy winced at what could only be described as a high pitched squawk. He wasn’t sure why she was so offended. If anything, he was the one who should have an issue with her.

“The other night y’all were only there for like two hours before goin’ home and ya said maybe three full sentences to me in that time.”

Olivia’s mouth dropped open as she scoffed. “It was a school night and the kids had homework.”

“Ya couldn’t have maybe written the teacher a note explainin’ that their uncle was back on American soil for the first time in years and that they could catch up on schoolwork another time?”

Sy didn’t know much about kids and schoolwork but he was pretty sure they could have played the returning hero card if they’d wanted to. Didn’t schools still say the pledge of allegiance every morning? And if not, how much trouble could they really be in for not doing their homework? The oldest wasn’t even ten years old yet.

“They can’t just skip homework, education is the most important thing at their age.”

It was Sy’s turn to scoff.

“Don’t I fuckin’ know it. I’ve been comin’ second fiddle to your education since the day I was born.”

“That’s not true.”

Sy suddenly snapped, not managing to keep his cool any longer.

“Isn’t it?” he half shouted. “Do you know how many teachers I had that were excited to have me as a student until they realized I was the Syverson sisters’ dumb younger brother? Do ya know how humiliatin’ it is to be the only seven year-old in your class who can barely fuckin’ read? No, ya don’t ‘cause whenever I came to ask either of y’all for help, Abi was always out readin’ in the garden and you were yellin’ at me to get outta your room.”

Just like that, Olivia went from combative to defensive.

“That’s not fair. I was eleven, it wasn’t my job to play teacher.”

“No, you’re right, it wasn’t your job. As for fair? Is it fair that after barely showin’ me the time of day ya call me up to yell at me ‘cause I decided to go after somethin’ I want instead of puttin’ everyone else first for once in my fuckin’ life?”

“Ya can’t be that self-absorbed. When have ya ever had to put anyone else above yourself?”

Sy counted out on his fingers as he spoke.

“When I was six and ask my friend’s older brother to fake mama’s signature on my failed tests so that she could focus on takin’ care of two newborns instead of worryin’ about me. When I enlisted at eighteen so that our parents would have one less mouth to feed while they worked to put you and Abi through college. When I gave up on buyin’ my own place to help pay Jackson and Austin’s tuition and all four of your weddings. Where the fuck do you think our parents got thirty-five hundred dollars for your designer dress?”

Olivia’s face fell as she realized he wasn’t talking out of his ass.

“I— I thought that with mama goin’ back to work full-time and daddy’s promotion—”

“Mama’s a file clerk in the county records office and pops is a shift supervisor at a warehouse. Ya really think that’s enough to save over a hundred grand in less than ten years? ‘Cause that’s how much I’ve sent them.”

“Ya shoulda told me,” she whispered as she sank down on her pristine white leather couch.

“Why? Would ya have treated me differently if ya’d known? I shouldn’t have to pay ya to give a shit, Olivia.”

“I do give a shit! Itʼs just kinda hard to get along when you’re never here. Ya may have helped pay for our weddings but ya werenʼt there. You left us, not the other way around.”

“Iʼve got better shit to do than sit here and listen to ya have a tantrum. Say goodbye to the kids for me.”

“I hope sheʼs worth it,” she spit right before ending the call.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall alerted Sy to the fact that he wasn’t alone. He looked up to see Caleb holding out a fresh bottle of beer. He must have been in the bathroom when Sy moved inside.

“How much of that did ya hear?”

“Basically all of it. It’s a small place, sorry man.”

“Honestly, that fight was a long time comin’. It was bound to happen at the most inconvenient time.”

To Sy’s surprise, Caleb fell into the seat across from him. He hadn’t planned on discussing the subject any further but it seemed the younger man had other ideas.

After a long moment of silent staring, Caleb finally spoke.

“You’re fucking perfect for each other, you know that?”

Sy wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting him to say but it sure as hell hadn’t been that. Feeling a little more at ease, he leaned back and finally took a sip of the cold beer.

“How do you figure that?”

“You’re basically the same, except that you had two really different upbringings.” Caleb looked over at the wall which was filled with happy family photos. One of them showed Caleb at what must have been his high school graduation. Another showed Leah half-way up some mountain she was climbing. Another was of the two of them with a man who was the spitting image of the both of them. Sy continued his perusal as Caleb began listing his observations.

“She wasn’t as strong as me in school despite trying really hard. For a long time after dad died she basically made herself invisible because she didn’t want to distract me. When she enlisted, she made me take her half of the inheritance so that I could pay for med school.”

Caleb was right. They were more similar than either of them had ever noticed.

“I wasn’t sure about you. It’s hard to accept that my baby sister is getting involved with a guy who’s not only a decade older—”

“Nine years, actually.”

Caleb smirked, shaking his head.

“A man who’s both almost a decade older and her superior but… I think you’re exactly what she needs because you’ll understand her. I think she’ll always want to put you first and that you’ll do the same for her.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Standing, Caleb clapped Sy once on the shoulder. “Just make sure you keep her alive and happy or I’m gonna show you that Leah’s not the only one who picked up a thing or two from our dad.”

Sy couldn’t help but smile. He believed with one-hundred percent certainty that Caleb would, in fact, follow through with his threat and the only thing it did was warm his heart.

“You know,” Sy stood to follow him out, “she doesn’t make the keepin’ her alive part easy. She’s fuckin’ stubborn as a mule and acts like she’s got nine lives.”

Caleb had one hand on the door, pausing before he pulled it open.

“Yeah, I do know. It was my job for four years. Why do you think I needed five other guys to help me take care of her? Tag, you’re it.”

The two men were laughing as they stepped outside, Sy making his way back to Leah’s side. Most people had joined the dancing but it seemed she was either uninterested or she was waiting for him to get back.

A familiar beat began to play over the speakers and a few of the guys were immediately hyped.

“Ooh!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re far too kind!”

As Caleb and a guy he knew from the hospital began singing along, Sy realized the lyrics were wrong. He returned to Leah’s side, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s Encore by Jay-Z mixed with Numb by Linkin Park.”

As he thought about it, it wasn’t that strange of a mix. He’d never been a big fan of hip hop but he found that it worked over the beat.

“Yo Caleb!” one guy called from the crowd of people. “Run it back, run it back.” The dancers parted to let him and his girlfriend through. “Killer! Get your ass over here!”

Leah vigorously shook her head no, trying to wave him off. “No way. V, this is your dance.”

The woman, who Sy now remembered had introduced herself as Valentina and her boyfriend as Victor, pulled Leah up from her seat.

“It’s yours too and it’s not nearly as fun with a pregnant partner who can’t do half the moves. Go make his night, I’ll keep your man company.”

Victor’s girlfriend dropped down across from Sy who tried not to think too hard about how much he liked being called Leah’s man.

“How do you know Leah again?”

“Me, Vic and Leah were in the same performing arts program in high school. I got hurt two months before our final performance and Leah offered to sub for me since she was a year younger and wasn’t doing the senior showcase.”

Vic dragged Leah out to the makeshift dance floor and Caleb started the song again from the beginning. Everyone gave them space as Vic began leading Leah through a routine that Sy guessed might be tango mixed with more modern styles.

It was clear Leah was not as skilled as Vic but she seemed to remember the routine well enough, jumping for the lifts and following along to the fast footwork. They were dancing close together—intimately close—but Sy wasn’t jealous at all. He could tell by the expression on her face that Leah was having fun and nothing more. Vic kept his hands in safe territory, never straying from her back or thigh unlike when he’d danced with his girlfriend earlier.

Out of nowhere one of the single girls took the chair at the end of the table and leaned in to catch Valentina’s attention.

“Are you seriously okay with her grinding all over your boyfriend like that?” She huffed, shooting a dirty look over at Leah. “I don’t know why everyone is so hung up, I swear even the girls are drooling over her.”

Valentina was stunned silent but Isobel jumped in without a second of hesitation. 

“Tammy, you’re new around here so maybe you hadn’t realized this yet but if you’re looking to get with someone, whining over the fact that Leah’s getting more attention than you is a bad way to do it. I can guarantee that any guy here would drop you like a hot potato if Leah came calling, not because they want her in their bed but because they respect the fuck out of that girl and love her even more. If you can’t handle that then I suggest you find somewhere else to be.”

Tammy sat there, mouth agape. She looked at each guy in turn as if expecting one of them to come to her defense but none of them said a single word. Seeming to realize she’d just screwed her chances with every available guy present, she threw her purse over her shoulder and stormed off.

The strange remix song had ended and the couples returned to dancing as they’d been before Vic interrupted them. He and Leah walked back to the table together where Vic wrapped his arms around Valentina from behind and cupped her belly. If he had to hazard a guess, Sy would have said she was about five months along—far enough that she was noticeably pregnant. Sy looked away, feeling like an intruder in their intimate moment.

“Do you dance?” Leah asked, gulping down a few sips of water as she caught her breath.

“Not like that.”

Leah only laughed, motioning for Sy to get up from his seat. “I barely dance like that.” Reaching out a hand for him to take, she walked backwards as she led Sy towards the other dancers.

“I’d never really danced until I offered to help Vic.”

Her statement took Sy by surprise. He would not have been able to follow that choreography as a new dancer much less perform it at a showcase with only two months of practice.

“Then why’d ya offer to sub for Valentina?”

Nibbling on her lip, Leah looked almost embarrassed. “Because growing up I watched a lot of dance movies and I wanted to be just like those girls except I was too busy with martial arts and learning the best ways of skinning a deer.”

It was the first time Sy had ever heard Leah express anything but complete happiness with the way she’d grown up. He could understand how it might feel like a betrayal of her father who’d done everything for her. As much as she might look like a tomboy, she had a more feminine side hidden away as evidenced by the outfit she was wearing. He was willing to bet that his mama would be more than happy to have a little bit of girl time with Leah and give her all the motherly love she was missing growing up.

Leah wrapped her arms around Sy’s neck and his hands easily found her hips. A slower hip hop song began to play, giving him the perfect excuse to hold her close though he tried to keep things PG considering she had a half dozen pseudo big brothers around.

“What about you, where’d you learn to dance?”

“When I started goin’ to bars I was told girls like a guy who can dance. And that line dancing didn’t count.”

Leah let out an exaggerated gasp. “I’d take a guy who can dance to Fake ID over a guy who can tango any day.”

“Guess I’m in luck then.”

Her face lit up with excitement and she immediately ordered Sy to pull his phone out of his pocket, making grabby hands as she did. She’d explained earlier that they’d set it up a Spotify playlist so that everyone could contribute a handful of their favorite songs and they would play on shuffle throughout the night to keep things fair. Leah found the song she was looking for and queued it so that it would be the next one to play.

Fake ID was not a known line dance. Most people only learned it if they were big fans of the Footloose remake. It was harder to learn than most since it had a longer series of steps to remember before it repeated. Then there was the fact that it was fast-paced and was hard to pick up on the spot.

Sy’d learned it for his brother Jax’s wedding so that he could surprise his bride with a big dance performance but, in the end, Sy hadn’t been able to make it home. He’d look like a dumbass following the YouTube tutorial led by the movie’s choreographers in the barracks but he’d really been hoping to make his brother happy.

When the song came on, there was a round of cheers from the girls. Like a well rehearsed routine, the pairs came apart and everyone fell into place by forming two lines—one for the guys and one for the girls. Leah kept her eyes on Sy, watching him follow the steps as if he’d done the dance a hundred times before.

Giggling with the girls around her, Leah had a broad smile plastered on her face. She moved with confidence, hitting every mark and looking damn good doing it.

Just before the bridge one of the girls shot her a wink and tipped her chin towards Sy. He didn’t realize the wink actually meant anything until the song slowed its pace and all the girls turned towards the line of men who had all stopped dancing and instead begun walking backwards as the girls strut towards them looking like hungry felines. It was obviously something they had practiced before, twirling and shaking their hips as they kept their eyes on their boyfriends. The onlookers whooped and hollered at the sexy display before them.

Leah was giving off the strongest fuck me vibes he’d ever seen—so strong he almost missed the last chorus starting up again, causing him to jump back into the dance a few steps behind the other men.

When the song came to its end, it was followed by She Doesn’t Mind by Sean Paul. Despite the odd change of pace, it was a perfect follow up to the previous song because all the boys dragged their girls flush to them. Caleb had found himself a partner in one of the single girls who’d scored an invite and was completely absorbed by her. It was a good thing because the way Leah turned her back to Sy and ground her ass against him was downright salacious.

“What do I gotta do to get ya all to myself for a while?” he murmured just loud enough for her to overhear over the music. She looked back at him over her shoulder, biting her lip.

“Go get a couple of drinks and meet me around the front.”

Leah reluctantly pulled away, heading inside as Sy watched her walk away. He collected a few beers as well as two sports drinks. He was not the type to tell a woman when she’d had enough but he also didn’t want Leah blackout drunk for whatever came next so he preferred having the option along just in case.

When he walked around to the front, Leah had retrieved her backpack from the bedroom and was stuffing something inside. She held out a hand for the drinks, dropping them in the bag and zipping it up.

“Where are we goin’?”

Leah smirked as she straightened. “Up.”

Sy’s gaze moved up the facade of the cabin all the way to the roof. “What is it with you and rooftops?”

“It started because I liked climbing things that weren’t supposed to be climbed. I kept it up because it was a good way to escape and clear my head.”

Leah jumped up, catching the rafter with both hands. She lifted her legs, hooking one knee over her opposite elbow and using the hold to free the weight from her other hand. Catching the vertical post, she switched her footing again to plant down on the bottom rafter and heave her other leg over the rooftop. Sy was too impressed by her skills for his attention to linger on the flash of skin caused by the movement of the skirt of her dress.

“You know I’m not gonna be able to do all that.”

Leah laughed as she reached a hand out. Sy raised the bag over his head, not wanting her to reach down and lose her balance as she gave him instructions. “Just do a muscle up and lift your leg onto the beam.”

“Why didn’t you do that?”

“Because the other way looked cooler.”

“You sure this old thing will hold my weight?”

“I could get you a ladder if you don’t think you can climb.”

That was the perfect thing to say to get him to stop asking questions and start climbing. It was lucky that his five day break was the longest he’d gone without a workout in over ten years. He did as suggested, easily pushing himself over the beam.

The porche’s frame was a triangular shape with a wooden beam going from the center of the main beam to the peak and two more going outward at an angle. He planted a foot and caught the center beam like Leah had and hefted his weight over the edge. He was much less graceful as he rolled onto the roof but at least he didn’t break his face.

Getting down would be much easier since the lowest point of the angled roof was only about eight feet off the ground.

Leah had unrolled a thick wool blanket above where the stone chimney sat, presumably so that they wouldn’t risk slipping off. It was by the front of the house where the living room was so they were out of sight from the people out back.

“I can see why you like this,” Sy said, stretching out on the blanket next to Leah and looking up at the unobstructed view of the night sky. It reminded him of summers back home in Georgia.

Without the trees’ protection from the wind or the fire, it was much colder but it seemed Leah had planned for everything. Pulling a second blanket over them both, Leah stretched out halfway over Sy with her head resting on his chest.

“I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“What, ya never dated anyone who could do a muscle up?”

Leah shifted to put a hand on his chest and laid her chin over top. “I meant the cabin in general but you might actually be right about the muscle up thing.”

Sy folded his arm behind his head, propping himself up so he could meet her gaze. His gorgeous blue eyes were normally framed with dark circles and frown lines, a consequence of the hard lifestyle he led, but now his expression was softer, filled with fondness.

“Good. Ya looked fuckin’ sexy out there tonight, I don’t like the idea of anyone else gettin’ to see my girl like that. This outfit has been drivin’ me crazy all night.” His hand found her thigh, threatening to slip under her dress.

Until she met Sy, Leah had never thought she would find possessiveness attractive but his statement lit a spark of excitement within her. It was the same feeling she got whenever he praised her or said the words ‘good girl’. It was just another thing to add to the list of conflicting feelings she had towards sex.

She didn’t have much experience but she was pretty sure that made her submissive in some way though she wasn’t sure how that made any sense. Her knowledge of the subject was limited to what she’d read in books and those dom/sub relationships had all heavily revolved around sex.

“Hey…” Sy’s fingers tracing Leah’s brow pulled her out of her head. “Where’d you go just now? Your entire body went stiff as a board.” As if to prove his point, Sy put his hands on the back of her neck, using gentle pressure to knead the tension from her muscles. “Did I do something wrong?”

She hated that his honest question made her feel guilty for causing him to worry. That was another thing Leah had never realized until she met Sy. Her previous relationships had messed her up more than she ever thought they had. 

“Leah, look at me.” That was his ‘captain’ voice—low and assertive. Leah had no choice but to obey. “You made me a promise,” he reminded her.

“No,” Leah licked her lips before pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Hoping he was reading her body language correctly, Sy slid his hand from Leah’s nape to her throat. He didn’t apply any pressure, only keeping a light hold that could easily be broken.

“You like when I call ya mine?”

She swallowed thickly, her throat moving against his palm before nodding.

Keeping his hand in place but being careful not to jostle her, Sy rolled Leah onto her back. 

They were nose to nose as he spoke. “I got the impression you were in a particular mood earlier when you offered to let me check your panties. Am I right?”

“Yeah.”

“You still feeling the same way?”

“Yes.”

Getting to his knee, Sy took the blanket from where it had fallen as he flipped Leah over and quickly folded it up to tuck it under her as a pillow. He planted his hands on either side of her head, holding his body off her.

“Do you wanna take orders like a good girl or would you rather take the lead?”

“The first one.”

“Okay, then I need you to tell me exactly what you want. Where I can touch you, how much clothing comes off, how far you want to go.”

Sy was pleased that Leah took a few seconds to reflect on her answer, giving him confidence that she wasn’t pushing herself past her limits to please him.

“Clothes can fully come off. Legs, ass and everything above the belt is safe to touch however you enjoy. I’m not sure about oral but hands for sure.”

Lowering himself down, Sy placed a series of kisses down her jaw. “Thank you.”

Leah turned her head, capturing Sy’s lips in a sensual kiss. When she began to lift the hem of his shirt, Sy caught her wrist.

“Don’t wait for me to check in to tell me you don’t like something. You’re trusting me to stick to your limits and I’m trusting you to tell me if they change.” Sitting back on his haunches, he let go of her wrist. “Take my shirt off.”

The cold wasn’t a concern for Sy but he didn’t know if his body heat would be enough to keep Leah warm so he didn’t want to undress her just yet.

She didn’t seem in a rush either, studying his body as her fingers explored his skin. Unlike the first time she’d touched his stomach, her touch didn’t cause anxiety to spark in his chest. He hadn’t expected for it to feel freeing for her to know the story behind his scars and for her to accept it but it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

When Leah sat up, Sy expected for her to pull her dress off but, instead, she slid a hand to the small of his back, holding him close as she placed gentle pecks along his collar bone. Her movements were tender, almost reverent as she worked her way over both shoulders before moving up to tease his neck with open-mouthed kisses.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on the receiving end of this kind of affection. Maybe even never.

It felt amazing. How had he made it over fourteen years without ever realizing his neck was that sensitive?

The soft scratch of her teeth as she nipped his throat pulled an audible groan from him, leading her to move her hand up to hold him in place as she repeated the action with more force. His head fell to the side in a silent message for her to do with him as she pleased so she took the opportunity to lock her lips over his pulse point and suck.

Eyes tightly shut, Sy relished the slight sting of his blood being drawn to the surface. With how badly his cock was throbbing, it was hard to imagine there was even any left to leave a mark but when Leah finally lifted her head, she made a pleased sound at the sight of the newly formed hickey.

“You like seein’ your mark on me, baby?” Sy’s hands gripped both of her thighs, possessively kneading her flesh. “You like knowin’ that I’m yours as much as you’re mine?”

For someone who was not normally a big talker, Sy was surprisingly proficient at dirty talk. It was still quite tame all things considered but it still made her heart race.

“Yes.”

Looking down at her spread legs, Sy caught sight of the black lines poking out from the skirt of Leah’s dress.

“Lay back,” he ordered, taking a moment to undo his pants and give himself a bit of relief. “It’s my turn.”

Her breath hitched as she obeyed both from the arousal brought on by his command and the worry of what Sy might do next.

Sensing the shift in her body, Sy made his intentions clear. “I want to see your tattoos up close. I wanna memorize how each one fits your curves just right.”

He dragged the hem of her dress upwards, pausing only long enough for Leah to lift her hips and allow the fabric to pool around her stomach.

With the clear night sky and the distant glow of the bonfire, Sy could clearly see the intricate patterns dancing across Leah’s creamy skin, only obstructed by her underwear.

“Can you take these off for me, darlin’?”

She’d already said that clothing could fully come off but he was about to get up close and personal with her thighs and he didn’t want her to feel over-exposed. He was giving her the option to refuse but she didn’t take it, simply working them down her legs at what felt like a torturously slow pace.

Sy could see the glistening of her arousal at her apex and he made a mental note to ask her about that later. She’d been clear the night before that she wouldn’t want Sy to reciprocate if they did something intimate but she hadn’t said if that meant that she didn’t want to come at all or simply not by his hand.

For now, he turned his focus back to his task and traced her ink with his lips. Once he finished exploring her right leg, he moved to her other side, being mindful not to touch the fresh tattoo with his hands or his mouth. The last thing he wanted was for it to get infected and cause problems once they got back.

“Fuck babygirl, you are so goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled as he pushed the dress higher and made his way up Leah’s stomach, seeking out her final tattoo. “Nothing I imagined over the last months even came close to the real thing.”

With her dress completely removed and her bra following soon after, Leah was left in only her long socks and the look was way sexier than it had any right to be. It somehow simultaneously looked innocent and dirty and Sy couldn’t help picturing Leah kneeling for him in that same outfit.

He’d never ventured into BDSM further than giving the occasional order during sex but if Leah was amenable, he’d take great pleasure in learning what they both liked.

As Sy gazed down at Leah with obvious adoration, all Leah could think was how lucky she was. She wanted to express her happiness but her stupid feelings left a giant lump in her throat and the words just wouldn’t come so instead she tugged on Sy’s beard and brought his lips to hers.

It was nothing like the gentle caress they’d previously shared. This kiss was dirty and frantic like they were both afraid that the other would disappear at any moment.

Needing to give his aching dick some relief, Sy palmed his crotch over his underwear but it only seemed to make him more desperate.

“What should I do with this, baby?” he asked when they both took a second to catch their breaths. “You wanna watch me get myself off or do you wanna help?”

“Help.”

“Then take me out,” he growled, removing his hand to lift his body into a push-up position.

Leah slid his underwear and jeans over the curve of his ass. When she couldn’t reach any farther, she pushed them the rest of the way down with her foot. They got caught around his ankles since neither of them had taken the time to remove their shoes but it was good enough.

Sy could have wept when Leah finally wrapped her hand around his erection. Despite coming just a few hours earlier, Sy already felt like he was teetering on the edge and about to tip over at any moment.

Forehead to forehead, they both watched with rapt attention as Leah’s hand moved up and down his shaft. Then, in a completely unexpected but immensely arousing move, took her hand away just long enough to collect the wetness that pooled at her entrance and use it as lube.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot.”

His head fell to the crook of her neck, his hot breath fanning her skin as he panted. With Sy’s shoulder presented so nicely, Leah didn’t think twice before sinking her teeth in the defined muscle. Cute aggression was a real thing. Tangling his fingers in her hair to keep her in place, Sy released a deep groan. 

It took all of thirty seconds afterwards for thick ropes of cum to paint Leah’s stomach. Sy’s entire body shivered as the pleasure coursed through him, the hand on his cock not stopping until it milked every last drop of his release.

Feeling boneless, Sy rolled onto his side before he collapsed over Leah and crushed her under his significantly heavier weight.

“Give me a second and I’ll find something to clean you up.”

He needed to recover from the out-of-body experience brought on by that orgasm because he had never come so hard in his entire fucking life. 

“There’s baby wipes in the bag.”

Sy huffed a laugh. “Life of a soldier.”

Reaching behind him, Sy retrieved the bag and found the plastic packet at the very bottom along with meal replacement bars, a knife, a flint and a paracord bracelet.

“What kind of kinky shit did you have planned for us up here?” he teased, pulling out one of the wipes and diligently cleaning Leah’s stomach and chest.

“That’s my cabin bag,” she defended, “those things are always in there.” She had to admit that with a bit of creativity,  those items would, indeed, make for some kinky love-making.

“Hand,” he requested as he pulled a fresh wipe from the pack.

Once he had finished with Leah, Sy took care of himself and set the soiled wipes aside to be dealt with later. He pulled his pants back up but left his shirt off for the moment. 

Leah followed his lead, redressing before pulling their drinks out of the bag.

“How long have we got before they come looking for ya?”

“They won’t really be looking for us unless one of them is about to leave but I’d like to go spend a bit more time with them before the evening is over.”

“Of course,” Sy agreed, shuffling around so he sat with Leah between his legs and wrapped them both in the soft blanket.

They stayed that way until they had finished their beers then Leah showed Sy the best foot holds on the stone chimney to help them climb down a few feet before having to jump the rest of the way.

Valentina shot Leah a knowing wink as they rejoined the dancers while the boys glared at Sy when they noticed his neck but none of them attempted to punch him in the face so he considered it a win

There were only a few people left by the time the fire had almost fully died down, most of the people having carpooled to have a designated driver. Everyone had pitched in to clean the yard so all that was left to do was load the speakers back into Camden’s car and fold up the remaining lawn chairs that had been arranged around the fire pit.

The music’s volume had been lowered to serve as background sound for the quiet conversation. Leah was falling asleep on Sy’s lap, bundled in one of his hoodies, but she refused to go to bed until all her friends had gone home.  In the end, Sy had to carry a sleeping Leah to bed under Caleb’s watchful eye.

Out of habit, Sy walked Caleb to his car as if it were his own home. Before getting in, he offered Sy his hand to shake.

“I was planning on meeting Leah for lunch next week. I hope you can join us.”

Sy clasped Caleb’s hand in his. “I’ll be there.”

#captain syverson #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill #cpt syverson #cpt syverson fic #cpt syverson fanfiction #cpt syverson fanfic #cpt syverson x ofc #captain syverson x ofc

[scorpiobitch95]

Summary: You're having one of those days again where you want to hide from the world, but Sy knows just what you need to make you feel loved.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: Umm. Waaaaay too long. 2.7K

Warnings: swearing, mentions of anxiety, angst, lots of fluffy warm Syverson, and heavy flirting.

Author's Note: Trying a new venture... after enjoying so many people's works here on Tumblr and lurking forever, I thought it was time to share the scenes that fill my own daydreams. What better way to start than with yummy fluffy Syverson? (Hint, there's no better way.) Hope you enjoy!

Edited by myself, sorry not sorry for the errors.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.

Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!

•••••

Hoodie Love

Driving home from your hellacious day, your hands gripped the wheel and you leaned your head back on your headrest, stretching your arms. You couldn’t wait to get home and wash off the events of the day. Work was a nightmare. Again.

“What a fucking day.” You sighed heavily. Heavy thoughts clouded your mind and a subtle anxiety crept in. Please let me get home. A shake erupted in your left leg while you waited for a light to turn green.

Sadness and guilt washed over you. Tears bubbles in your eyes. The last thing you wanted was to cancel your evening with Sy.

Days like these didn’t come often anymore, but every so often, a day would fill wind mind-racing and anxious thinking. God, I was really looking forward to tonight.

You knew you weren’t enjoyable to be around when you got like this. Hell, you didn’t even want to be around yourself. Irritable, nervous, indecisive, it all came to the forefront on days like these. The desire to go home, crawl in bed, and shut the world away loomed largely in your headspace.

He doesn’t deserve that. Sy was always giving up a good time to care for you. Actually, he insisted and the guilt you felt consumed your body every time. A supposed to be sweet date night was not shaping up to go as you’d planned, the last thing you wanted was for Sy to worry. Despite your arguments, That bull-headed man somehow always got his way.

Traffic moved again. Your phone rang — Sy.

Sadness escaped you through a heavy exhale.

“Hey baby, I was just about to call you! How are you?” Forcing your lips into a smile always made you sound more normal, maybe you could convince him.

“Hey there, pretty lady. Better now, ready to see ya. How was your day?”

“Oh, it was just another day… Look, Sy..” What would convince him you could spend your night alone? You didn’t get to finish your thought.

“Sugar, you don’t sound good. What’s wrong?”

So much for that.

Your mouth began to race, “Oh, it’s nothing, I’m just having one of those days again. I’ll be okay after a good night’s sleep. I’m just exhausted from this week... Yea, sleep will be good. Do you think we could maybe reschedule for tomorrow? I’ll even make that pie you like—“

Interrupting you, Sy was soft but stern. “Cut the crap, Sugar.”

You’d been through this enough to know he saw right through your nonchalance. “Listen, I’m fine. Sy, you don’t want to be around me like this... I’m grumpy and sad and feeling… well I don’t know what I’m feeling and you don’t need that. I’ll be okay once I sleep it off. I’ll be normal me tomorrow. I’m good, promise.”

The selfish truth was that you really wanted nothing more than for him to wrap his strong arms around you and press you into his warm body. You wanted to feel his comfort but didn’t know how to ask without sounding needy. But unselfishly, you wanted to spare him yet another evening of having to take care of you because you couldn’t get in control of your brain.

“Yeah, nice try, but I ain’t buyin’ that. Every time you say “you’re good” is exactly when you’re not good. Look, get yourself home and relax. We’re stayin’ in tonight, I got it all planned baby; I’ll be over soon.”

It’s like he could read your mind.

“Sy, it’s not fair to you..” But he interrupted you again.

“With all due respect, hush. You know me better than that, and I know you. You don’t have to spell out that ya need me, I’m here for you.”

Heavy breath expelled from your lungs, giving in.

“Okay, but I’m warning you… one day you’re going to decide you don’t like me so much after all this… that it’s too much.”

The Captain hummed sadly at your words. “Oh Darlin', that sweet ole head of yours must be doing a real number on ya, because you must have forgotten just how stubborn I am. I’m coming to spend time with ya, end of story, Sugar. And I’ll always like you.”

—

Once home, you weren’t quite sure what to do. Bad days like this normally called for a scalding shower and bed, but you knew Sy would be here any minute.

Your door shook with his sturdy knocks minutes later. Opening the door, Sy stood there, a sweet smile adorning his deliciously scruffy face. He held a few bags of groceries, a duffel bag, and a bottle of wine. Your eyes raked in his form: he was wearing comfy sweats and a hoodie and he looked freshly showered. You stared at him, smiling softly.

“You came prepared. Did you have all of this ready before we talked?”

“Darlin’ I haven’t seen ya in four days. I’ve been ready to spend time with ya tonight since then. Bad day or good day, we’re enjoying this evening together. That’s the Sy guarantee.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. You half-smiled while shaking your head, unable to refuse his cocky charm.

“Hmm… Are you finally moving in?” The duffle bag caught your attention. You grabbed the wine and welcomed him in. “Did you really bring more clothes? Sy, like half of your wardrobe lives here already. I’m seriously running out of room.”

“Actually, I brought something for ya.” Setting down his bags in your kitchen, Sy turned back and immediately grabbed you, pulling you into a big warm hug and kissing your hair gently. With his arms covering much of your back, you felt safe. You pressed your face firmly into his chest. His warmth and smell enveloped your senses the way the day’s first sip of coffee tingles and warms you from the inside out. You melted into him, his smell instantly calming your mind. Tears escaped your eyes gently and there was a light heave in your chest as you held onto him.

Home. This is what home feels like.

Sy kissed the top of your head gently once again and whispered, “You wanna talk about it, Sugar?” He squeezed you harder and your arms reacted the same.

“Not really.” Sniffling and snuggling into him, you continued. “My mind isn’t always the kindest place. It’s just bothering me more than normal. It’s really not worth wasting more time and energy.. especially now that you’re here.” You looked up at him but your eyes darted down when you saw his concerned expression. You murmured quietly, “I am so glad you’re here, Sy.”

One of his large hands moved to cradle your chin, and Sy wiped the tears off your cheeks with the soft pad of his thumb.

“Babe, all you have to do is ask. Or in this case, let me insist. I’m always gonna take care of ya. Now, your orders are to go take a long shower and wash this damn day off. I’ll start dinner.” Kissing you gently, his hand stroked your cheek again. You took a deep breath, knowing that trying to argue was pointless. You nodded and started to make your way to the shower.

“Oh, and take the duffle bag. You may want that. They’re yours to keep.”

—

Steamy and freshly showered, you started to dress in your comfiest attire, the ones you always dressed in on evenings like these. The whirring in your head had melted away significantly in the hot water and you were ready to spend the evening curled up in your favorite spot with your favorite person.

The mystery bag sat on the marbled bathroom counter. Curious as to what he’d brought, you reached into the duffle bag that Sy had given you only to find not one but three of his hoodies. “You beautiful, thoughtful man.” you breathed. You couldn’t help but smile, and smile hard. Tears threatened to fall yet again, but they were happy ones this time.

For the entire time you’d known him, Sy had been stubborn and extremely partial to his hoodies, never letting you steal one for long. You thought this would, for sure, change when you two finally got together after being friends for so many years previously. “Anything else.” He’d say. “You can have anything else of mine.. but the hoodies are sacred. ”

Sy lived in his hoodies, they might as well be sewn onto his body. But he had so many, surely you could steal one to keep for yourself, you’d think. He’d let you wear them, sure. Always giving you one when you were cold or packing an extra one for a weekend date getaway. You’d take one from him while at his place and snuggle into it with the full intention of stealing it... until he later snatched it back from your things or peeled it off of your body and completely distracted you with those scruffy neck kisses that made your whole body tingle with desperation.

He must have sensed how bad of a day it really was, or maybe you sounded worse than you realized on the phone because this was completely unexpected. Giving you hoodies to keep for yourself, ones that comforted you, was the best thing he could have done. “They’re yours to keep."

You reached in the bag and picked one up. The soft cotton was worn and aged, caressing your skin with the same delicacy that your big man somehow managed despite his intense nature. The scent caught your nose - it even smelled like him. He must have worn them recently or sprayed his irresistible cologne… but they smelled exactly like his skin. Spicy, warm, and inviting. You slipped it on your body and smiled big. Breathing in deeply, ingraining the scent into your senses, you let it calm you just the way that Sy was always able to. Wanting his hoodie was silly, but it was beyond comfortable, and it was almost as good as when he held you. Almost.

—

The kitchen smelled of one of your favorite meals, chicken piccata. Cooking was normally your territory because you loved it so much, but Sy was a damn good cook and could honestly give you a run for your money.

“Better?” Sy had made himself at home in your kitchen, dinner almost finished. He poured you a glass of wine and his eyes sparkled when he looked at you.

Taking a sip and setting your glass gently on the counter, you walked behind him and snaked your arms around his tummy, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. You placed gentle kisses on his clothed back, silently thanking him. His free hand covered and squeezed where yours met.

“Much better now. It’s like you know me or something” you joked. You inhaled heavily, getting a double dose of his delectable scent from both him and his hoodie. A shiver ran down your spine, your body responding to him. “Mm, Sy you smell so good… even better than the food.”

Sy turned in your arms, one hand with a finger pointed at you, knowing your tune had changed. “Woman, ya need to contain yourself. We’re not gonna let this food get cold tonight. I’m crushing it over here.” He grinned big as you chuckled heartily.

Sy placed both of his large hands gently on your cheeks and kissed you tenderly. You responded, running your hands down to grip his ass and deepening the kiss. Sy hummed and broke your kiss, “Sugar, I love ya, but you need to walk away now. Dinner. It’s happenin’. You need to eat, I know you haven’t.” It was true. You hadn’t done much but barely nibble today. It was incredulous how observant Sy was; he always knew.

Ignoring his statement, you licked your lips.

“Damn right I do.” You weren’t a great winker, but you tried your best. Sy pursed his lips and gave you the look; he looked like a carbon copy of yourself when he did that. It was the look that you always gave him when he started the same antics on you. Hands still on his ass, you pulled his beefy hips into yours and kissed him again. He growled slightly, “Mmm. Go, dinner’s almost ready.”

You gave his delicious ass a quick squeeze and as you turned to grab your wine, he smacked your ass in return. “You really do look fuckable in my clothing.”

“Oh, so it’s me who can’t control herself, sure thing.”

“You’re damn right, Sugar.” He even mimicked your terrible wink while you rolled your eyes at him. He chuckled and turned back to finish preparing dinner.

—

Plates empty, movie rolling, second glass of wine poured, Sy had wrapped you in his arms again as he cuddled you on the couch. You sat relaxed between his thick legs while he pressed soft scruffy kisses to your head and shoulders.

You leaned your head into the space between his shoulder and his neck. Turning your head, you looked up at him.

“So how long do I have before my access to this hoodie has been revoked?”

Smirking, Sy kissed your cheek. “Baby, I told you, they're yours. Really, I want ya to have them.”

“Yea, like I believe that. Do you know how many times I have unsuccessfully tried to steal one of these?”

You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so smug. “Obviously — I’ve caught ya every time, Sugar.” You turned away, rolling your eyes yet another time.

Sy’s hands grabbed one of yours and gently began to massage it, creating small circle patterns over every inch.

Suddenly, gratitude and emotion washed over you, and you turned a little to put a hand on his bearded cheek guiding his eyes to find your own.

"I'm sorry about tonight... it wasn't my intention to make you take care of me." Your eyes flickered downwards, your resolve slipping. "But I'm so glad you did."

"Sugar, I'd scrub the baseboards with a toothbrush if it meant spendin' time with ya. And, as terrible as that sounds, if you asked, I'd oblige... grumpily, but I'd do it. Just to be near ya."

Your eyes shot back up to his and you couldn't control the big grin that spread across your face. "Hey, enough of making fun of that! You know I legitimately enjoy it. That kind of detail cleaning is so satisfying to me."

Sy's eyes could not have rolled more dramatically. "I'll agree to disagree, babe." Giggling, you're heart felt full.

“Sy.. thank you. For dinner, for holding me, for being here... and especially for the hoodies. I know it seems dumb, and I know you’re partial to them, but they bring me so much comfort, almost like you can. And I love when I can smell them and think of you. You have no idea how that alone can calm me. Just... thank you for being who you are.” You reached up to press your lips to his and kissed him softly.

“I wondered if you’d noticed, I put them all on for a little bit after showerin' earlier. I like having my smell all over you.” Sy hummed lightly and brought his lips to nuzzle your neck. He lightly nipped at your earlobe and suckled behind it — your weakness.

He pulled away from you and caressed your chin with his calloused hand again. His eyes were soft and glossy. Sy’s voice sounded more vulnerable than you’d normally ever heard him. “Sugar, you have me. Every bit of me. And I will always, always, protect you and do everything within my power to remind you that I will be here for you every day, even the bad ones. You don’t have to do it alone anymore. Promise me you won’t?” Your head nodded. “You are so loved, baby. So loved.”

Your lips met gently and you pressed your forehead to his. Your breaths synced as you sat in blissful stillness.

Finally, you parted when Sy said “Just remember, only those hoodies. The rest are to stay where they belong, ya hear me?” His face was completely serious as he searched yours for the correct answer.

“See, I knew there was a catch.” You belly-laughed. “Don’t worry, Captain, they’ll stay where they belong. I won’t push the boundary… yet.”

The Cheshire Cat had nothing on Sy’s sexy grin. “Good girl.” He rewarded you with another bite to your earlobe. “As for this one,” He reached for the hem of the hoodie you were wearing and began to raise it over your head, “I love it on ya, but it would look much better on the floor.”

•••••

I do not own Sandcastle or any characters relating to it.

#captain syverson #sy #cpt syverson #syverson fanfiction #Henry cavill #henry cavill thirst #Henry cavill fluff #syverson fluff #hoodies #anxiety #comfort #sweet sy kisses #fanfiction #scorpiobitch95 #syverson x you #Henry cavill fanfiction #fanfic

[maggotzombie]

needy ; henry cavill

CONTINUATION: UNTAMED

PAIRING: Henry Cavill x Reader (fem) SUMMARY: You want Henry to pay attention to you but he keeps playing WoW and TikTok give you some ideas. TIME PERIOD: April of 2020 (midst of the rona [covid-19] quarantine craziness); WORDS: 3,2k TW: fluff, teasing, smut, dirty talk, daddy kink, punishment. A/N: I’m writing this very late, I know. Also, this is my first take on a few subjects I’m not comfortable with (such as daddy kink and punishment), so bear with me, please!! 🙃 This gif (nsfw) was a reference for this 3,2k smutt lol thanks @could-be-cavill​ for my inspiration. — 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

HENRY IS playing World of Warcraft.

Again

He’s playing that stupid game again.

Usually, I’m not bothered by that. He rarely has time to indulge himself with it anyway. But I usually have something to do, too. Well, usually.

This quarantine is lasting an awfully long time and I’ve run out of things to do.

Here’s a list of what I’ve done so far:

I’ve reorganized everything (bookshelves, closet, cabinets, etc.);

Scrubbed every inch of the house to perfection (I still have a few scratches on my hands from the chemicals of the cleaning products);

Kal has never been this well-groomed before.

I’m honestly tired of watching TV and looking at my phone. Actually, I’ve been spending a lot of time on the device lately. All of this because of the persistent and annoying ads of an app called TikTok.

My biggest mistake was downloading it out of curiosity.

It. Is. Addictive. Simple as that.

I sigh softly, twirling a strand of hair on my index finger as I watch my lovely, brawny, and completely fuckable boyfriend from the sofa. He’s talking complete nonsense and sometimes even speaking loudly, with his blue eyes fixed on the screen instead of me.

Kal’s head is resting on my lap and he glances worryingly at his best friend when he raises his voice.

An idea pops up in my head (thanks to the aforementioned app) and I smirk. Henry doesn’t even blink as I place a hand on his shoulder, he’s one-hundred percent focused on that stupid game.

He frowns when I pop my head in between his arms. “What are you doing?” He asks, letting go of the mouse so I can go through. “What’s this?”

I smile, making myself comfortable on his lap while facing him. Finally some eye contact. Without a reply, Henry shakes his head and goes back to the game, adjusting me to not get in his way.

After a minute or two, it seems I’m not an obstacle at all. In fact, Henry is now shouting directly to my ear due to our position. A pout forms in my lips as I reassess the strategy and I nuzzle my face into his neck in thought, making goosebumps flash over his skin.

Oh.

As my soft lips brush against the crook of his neck, more goosebumps rise. Still testing the waters, I graze my teeth at the same spot. Suddenly, my boyfriend is very quiet and I can even hear the people he’s playing with on his headset.

Henry’s breath shallows when I plant a kiss on his weak spot; just below his earlobe.

“Stop it,” He whispers to me as his cock twitches against me.

“I don’t think you want me to,” I move his microphone away from his lips.

I push my tongue into his mouth boldly and I receive an appreciative moan back. I explore his mouth slowly but sensually and I can feel his hard-on starting to growl against my groin.

Suddenly he breaks the kiss and shoots me a warning glare, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I’m here,” He says after adjusting his mic. “Just got slightly distracted.”

Scoffing, I buckle my hips hard against his boner and Henry hisses at the friction.

“Y/N...” Henry whispers warningly with heavy breathing.

In response, I give him a smug smile before attaching my lips back to his neck. I slip my hands under his shirt and my boyfriend groans, contracting his muscles. As my eager fingertips brush against his hard and well-defined abs, my tongue darts out to caress the sweet spot under his ear.

Ignoring his scolding and protest, I take off his headset from his left ear and take his earlobe in between my lips. My man’s breath gets caught up in his throat and his hand grabs my hip to stop me from grinding against his hard cock.

“Fuck,” He curses through gritted teeth.

Confusion takes over his face as I climb down off his lap but then he tenses again when I kneel in between his legs. Hands flat on his thick thighs, I’m able to move it very little towards my goal before Henry grabs my wrists.

He throws the headset onto the keyboard carelessly and gets up from the chair, taking me with him. I giggle in amusement as he pins me down on the sofa, hands above my head.

“What are you doing?” Henry asks in all seriousness.

“I’m bored!” I say honestly, looking into his eyes with mischief. “Play with me!” I pout and open a smirk at his expression.

“I’m busy right now,” He points out and I ignore it by trying to kiss his lips. My boyfriend moves his head away from my reach and gives me a stern look. “Wait for your turn, kitten,” Henry says.

“Since when do kittens do what they’re told to?” I ask, raising my knee to rub against his crotch. “They do whatever the fuck they want to,” I purr, watching his concentration faltering for an instant.

My boyfriend blinks and shakes his head before growling. He pins my leg down with his knee and applies more of his weight on my wrists, making it a bit uncomfortable but without hurting me.

“This kitten will obey. Otherwise, daddy will punish her later,” Henry provokes back but it makes me all tingly.

“Hmmm,” I hum, trying to reach him once again. “How about now? I misbehaved, right?”

“Later,” He says pointedly.

Before I can say or do anything else, Henry lifts his weight off me and moves away. I sit on the sofa to see him sitting back in front of the computer, completely ignoring me.

I hiss at him, just like a cat, and he throws a smirk my way while putting his headset back on. Pissed off by the rejection, I get up and leave the room. By the time I reach the stairs to the second floor, I can hear the shouting about the game resuming.

First, I jump on our big bed and just scream my frustration on a pillow. Eventually, I lie onto my back and stare at the ceiling pondering what to do next.

I’m SO bored.

Then I strip down and get into the bathtub where I watch even more TikToks. Thirty minutes later, after the water got too cold, I step out of it and wrap a towel around my body. I am about to carry on my daily routine when another idea provided by the beloved app pops into my head.

Ignoring the fact that I’m leaving small pools of water at each step I take, I walk down the stairs. Henry is exactly where I left him: on the stupid computer, playing the stupid game and shouting stupid things to children.

Ugh!

He doesn’t acknowledge my presence as I stand at the foot of the staircase and I open my towel. Nothing yet. I remove it completely from my body and I’m still invisible. Praying for some good aim, I throw the wet towel at him.

I call it a strike as it lands on top of his head. Huffing to gather some patience, Henry takes the towel off of his head and slowly turns to look at me. From where I’m standing, I can see the change in his eyes.

Without saying a word, he closes the game and throws the towel onto the floor. He’s up from his chair and sprinting towards me in a heartbeat. I turn hot on my heels to run upstairs, but my boyfriend’s arms wrap around my waist as I’m about to climb the second flight of the stairs.

“Nuh-uh,” He says against my ear, trapping my body with his against the wall. “You wanted my attention,” He continues and I can feel his hand shuffling something on my lower back. “Now you got it.”

My hands struggle to find something to grab and I lose my breath as Henry plunges into me without so much as a warm-up nor a warning. He groans at the sensation of my walls squeezing him angrily and pulls my arms to my back, locking it so I can’t move.

“Ah! So tight, baby girl,” He whispers without moving.

I don’t reply and it makes him grab my face by my jaw and turn it to the side. Nuzzling my temple, he produces the sexiest sound ever into my ear.

“What happened? The cat got your tongue?” His baritone voice hits a new low.

I clench around him. “Jesus Christ, Henry,” I breath out, wiggling my backside towards him and inciting a new moan from him. “Touch me,” I plead.

“Where, kitten?” Henry asks, letting go of my arms. “Use your words,” One hand travels down to my clit while the other grabs my left breast. “Here or here?”

First, he toys with my nub, making me get wetter. Then, he squeezes my boob and pinches my nipple. I moan, pressing my forehead against the wall. Each move gives me different waves of pleasure, both very welcomed and appreciated.

“Kitten?” He calls when I don’t reply.

“Y-Yes,” I reply, already weak resting my head back on his shoulder.

“You’re such a tease, but it doesn’t go beyond that, huh?” My boyfriend chuckles, calling me out.

“Baby, please,” I whine, clutching to his wrist.

Chuckling slightly again, he nuzzles his face into my neck and starts to toy with my clit. Slowly, Henry starts to bulge his hips against mine, making both of us moan. His hand comes down from my boob to squeeze my hip as he intensifies his thrusting and the movement of his hand.

In a swift move, he peels off his shirt, discarding it to the ground. I take the opportunity to move my hips at my own pace now that he doesn’t have his hands on me. But his strong grip returns to my hips and I see stars at the speed of his thrusts.

The obscene sound of our bodies fills the house along with our lewd moans. My boyfriend slows down when I rest my head back against his shoulder, eyes screwed shut as little spasms start to run over my body.

“You take my cock so well, baby girl,” He says against my temple, breathing heavily. “You like my big, fat cock tearing you apart, don’t you, kitten?”

My lust-filled brain can barely register the question as his throbbing cock gently caresses my G-spot. However, a loud and tingly smack on my right ass cheek startles me, prompting my wrecked neurons to put together a reply.

“I fucking love it,” I say through gritted teeth, raising my head and glancing at him over my shoulder. “Go faster, daddy,” I moan and bite my lip. “I want to come all over your delicious cock.”

Henry’s eyes darken by my request and he grabs my jaw, crashing his lips against mine. Our kiss is a bit rough, tongues battling for control until he pulls my bottom lip with his teeth.

“I’ll make you come so hard that you’ll regret interrupting my game,” He tells me.

The excitement of his words gives me chills and I chuckle with mischief. “Do you promise?” I glance at him seductively, my teasing self returning to the game.

“Cross my heart,” My boyfriend reassures me, one of his hands sliding back down in between my legs. “Are you ready?”

The question is ignored as my brain is reduced to mush once again. More than before, my legs spread apart and my ass is up in the air for easy access. All of that balanced in my tiptoes that are becoming numb by now.

My pussy clenches around his cock as he massages my clit and restarts to pound into me senselessly. I moan, feeling my orgasm close. Henry groans louder, throwing his head back as his hips crush against my ass, the slapping sounding immoral and loud like both of us.

His hands finally give some attention to my boobs, kneading both of them. Like an expert, he teases my hard nipples, making me shiver from pleasure and I reach down to rub myself as I feel the first sparkles of the orgasm.

Lips come in contact with the sensitive skin of my nape and I start to lose it. “Oh, my God,” I breathe out, rubbing my clit faster. “D-Daddy,” I stutter as my toes start to curl up.

“Yes, kitten. Come all over daddy’s cock,” Henry growls into my ear, fucking me harder.

“I’m so close,” I whisper, completely out of breath. “Ah!” My moan reaches a note higher when he takes over and starts to rub my clit again.

Both his hand and hips move at an absurd fast pace and I literally see stars, coming hard on his cock. My legs buckle and Henry catches me before I fall without stopping his movements. My pussy clutches him so hard that I bet he’s gonna come anytime soon.

“Aaaah! Shit.”

My eyes are screwed shut and I squeeze my thighs together. It makes my pussy tighter around Henry’s girthy shaft, making him moan, but he still doesn’t stop thrusting hard into me nor rubbing my clit. I try to move his hand away just to fail miserably.

“Come on, kitten,” He pants, holding me against his body. “I know you can do it.”

“Oh, Henry!” I nearly shout as all my muscles tense up before becoming jelly.

I come once again and my thighs feel wet. Henry finally slows down his thrusts before sliding out of me. I feel the bliss of the orgasm and, if it weren’t for his strong arms secured around my waist, I’d fall to the ground.

“You did so well, baby girl,” My boyfriend praises me.

I try to catch my breath and rest my head against his chest. “Did you come?” I ask, feeling his hard cock on my lower back.

“Not yet,” He squeezes my overly sensitive boobs.

“What?” I frown, exhausted. “What is this?” I ask, looking at the water pool on the floor that I stepped on.

Henry chuckles, feeling amused by my confusion. “You squirted, kitten,” He explains.

This surprises me. “Seriously?”

I have never done this before.

“Yeah,” He muses, balancing my weight in between his arms. “Come on,” Henry says, nudging me to climb up the stairs.

“I can’t walk,” I giggle, looking up at him from over my shoulder.

His brow is furrowed as he looks down at me with his attentive azure eyes. Then, Henry flips me around and picks me up like a doll, throwing me over his shoulder. I gasp at the slap he lands across my ass but he quickly makes it up by spreading kisses on my thigh.

The air is knocked out of my lungs once again when he throws me onto the mattress. I look up at the Greek God boyfriend that I have and smirk, running one foot over his torso. He pushes my leg down and hovers over me, taking my lips possessively in a heated kiss. I moan into his mouth and my hands slide down from his back to squeeze his ass.

However, Henry takes both of my hands and pins it down above my head. “Keep it there,” He orders. “Do not move it.”

Biting my lips, I nod while looking into his eyes. In a swift move and still pinning my hands above my head, he flips me on the mattress. A quiet squeal followed by a giggle escapes my lips and I wiggle my ass, adjusting myself in the new position. Henry kneads my butt cheeks as I feel his lips on my back and I sigh, feeling the familiar chill running down my spine once again.

He goes lower and lower until he isn’t holding my hands anymore. Bending my knees slightly, my boyfriend makes me pop my ass up, exposing my pussy to him. I let out a long and obscene moan as I feel his mouth latch onto my very sensitive core.

Henry’s tongue is merciless. He devours my pussy, licking all my juices and flicking my clit with expertise. My hands clutch at the comforter in pleasure and I moan at the vibration of his groan, pumping himself while eating me out.

“B-Baby, I’m gonna…” I start, feeling the wonderful sensation building up again. Henry simply hums and starts to massage my clit with his thumb. “Fuuuck,” The shaking begins and, in a matter of seconds, I come hard on his mouth.

Another appreciative moan comes from my man while he licks me clean. This time, he has to hold my thighs tightly so I don’t move.

My breath is rapid and I’m still feeling the aftermath of my third climax when Henry pushes into me. I instantly clench around him a bunch of times, my walls too sensitive from the intense activity it's experiencing.

“Fuck, kitten,” Henry moans into my ear, lying on top of me. “If you keep doing that, I won’t last long.”

I try to say something, but my brain is so overwhelmed by now that I can’t put together a simple phrase. And, if it was bad before, it gets worse as he starts to thrust. He picks up the speed quickly and, once again, the slapping sound of his hips hitting against my ass echoes in the room.

Henry’s moans and panting in my ear are way too much to handle and I’m coming into his cock almost right after he began ramming into me. He slows down, prolonging my fourth orgasm and adding more fire to it by nibbling my earlobe and reaching down to rub my clit.

I can’t close my legs because one of his is right between mine, but I try my best. My eyes nearly get stuck on the back of my head as I come yet again. All my muscles feel sore from tensing up and relaxing repetitively and my throat hurts from moaning.

When I think I can’t take anymore, Henry tenses above me, his thrust becoming irregular and rougher. He moans, a very dirty moan, finally coating my walls with his warm, thick load. A few more pumps and he eases out of me, giving me a sweet kiss on the cheek before he rolls off me and crashes to my side.

My body is too exhausted to move and I just stay in the same position he put me in, trying to regain my breath. Aftershocks still make my limbs tremble then and there and I feel numb.

“That was awesome,” Henry says, trying to catch his breath too. “Baby?” He asks when I don’t say anything. “Are you okay?” His hand feels cold against my skin.

“You’re a pussy destroyer,” I breathe out with my eyes closed, making him laugh.

“You squirted again,” My boyfriend points out, feeling very proud of himself.

“I figured I would,” I say, trying to move only to moan at the discomfort coming from between my legs. I end up rolling to the side, resting my back against his chest. “I won’t be able to sit for days.”

“That’s what you get from interrupting my game,” Henry says playfully, squeezing my boobs.

“Oh, I’ll do that more often, then,” I tease, making him laugh again.

#i needed two gifs for this one #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt #august walker #clark kent #superman #napoleon solo #captain syverson #syverson #cpt syverson #detective marshall #walter marshall

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Help??

I need help deciding who is the big bad wolf...because I have an idea.

OR

It's for a future one-shot (please God let it be a one-shot).

Please consider reblogging to help this get as many votes as possible!

#henry cavill #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall #henry cavill fanfic #captain syverson #cpt syverson #syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #syverson fanfiction #syverson x ofc #syverson x you #syverson x reader #syverson smut #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall smut #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic

[sillyrabbit81]

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.”

#captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x female reader #captain syverson smut #captain syverson x you #syverson x reader #syverson #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson angst #captain sy fanfiction #captain sy #syverson x you #syverson fic #cpt syverson #henry cavill fanfic #syverson angst #heart of the matter

[peyton-warren]

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut:

I'd love to know more about what Sy is thinking after reader practically ran away from him in 'Blinded by the Fog' chapter 5

Only took 4 months, hon. I just hope it was worth the wait. I decided to write a new chapter just from Sy's perpective of the time leading up to Chapter 5, and whats going on before he shows up for dinner at Cougar's mom's. And somehow that turned into over 5k words....

Thank you for hand holding while i worked through my writer's block.

Without further ado here it is.

Blinded by the Fog Behind the Scenes I

Characters: Captain Syverson and Reader. Mention of Jake Jensen and Cougar Pairings: Jake Jensen x Reader, Syverson x reader

Word count: 5012 Type: angst and fluff Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. Loss of spouse and found family. drinking, swearing. Grief. Therpy/ emotional baggage type language. Vague mention of shitty childhood for reader.

Summary: An in depth look at what is going on in Sy's head in Blinded by The Fog Chapters 4, 5 and 6.

Author's Note: Thank you to @adulting-sucks for her continued support, especially when I want to chuck this whole thing in the trash and never look at it again. Sy's Running Play list: Here

Ask Box: Open

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Sy couldn't believe his heart was almost pounding as you walked into his living room dressed in his clothes.  He had it bad he realized, not for the first time in even the last 10 minutes.  He took you in from head to toe, you were effortlessly sexy in his clothes, and God how much he wanted to grab you and make you his own, crushing you under his weight, pinning you to this couch, carrying you off to his bedroom, making you forget your heartache, your sorrows, your troubles.  Instead he held out an open beer as you settled on the opposite end of the couch, curling your legs under you.  

“Feel better?” he asked even though that was a loaded question.  He knew it was tempting fate that you might fall back down into the spiral of mourning, but he honestly wanted to know if you felt more comfortable than you had, if he, his favorite comfortable clothes and his home made you feel better. It was selfish of him, he knew that, but right now he couldn’t help it.  He wanted nothing in this world more than to make you feel something more than just the sadness that seemed to consume you these past few months.  

“A little bit,” you had admitted to him as you put the bottle to your lips.  “So what are we watching?” He had to pull his eyes away from yours, forcing himself to grab the remote from the coffee table and gesturing at the TV.  “Figured I’d go with a classic.  Big Trouble in Little China.”

The light that sprung up in your face, in your eyes, was addicting, he realized.  “I haven’t seen that in ages,” you had told him, as you sat up, reaching over him for a slice of pizza.  Sy inhaled your soft smell.  He didn’t do it with any intention, it was instinctual when he caught a small whiff of you so close he couldn't stop himself from drawing a deeper breath.  Embarrassed by his own action, he pressed play, dropping the remote, and hoped you did not notice.  

You didn’t seem to as you settled back into the arm of the sofa, your eyes trained on the screen as you munched on your pizza, beer tucked between your thighs as you stretched out your legs, napkin on your thigh.  He really shouldn’t be noting that you seemed to relax more as you ate another slice, and finished off your beer.  He shouldn't have been pleased by your small smile when he first quoted Burton.  And he definitely should not be happy by your adorable little snort as he quoted Burton the second time.  “The check is in the mail.”

After you had your fill of the pizza and the movie progressed, Sy watched as you tucked your feet under your thighs, your hands wrapping around your toes.  “Cold?” he asked, his hand hovering over yours.  When you nodded cautiously, he gently pushed your hands aside and wrapped his fingers around the arch of your foot, pulling it from under you.  “Been told I’m like a furnace,” he admitted, tucking your toes under his thigh, encouraging you to wiggle both feet under his leg.  Grabbing the throw off the back of the sofa, he laid it over your legs, basically tucking them in as you hummed happily. “Thank you,” you whispered softly, giving him that smile he longed to see.  “That is much better.”

Sy simply slipped his hand under the blanket and wrapped his fingers around your ankles, squeezing gently, trying to look as casual as possible, forcing his eyes to watch the screen instead of you scooting down further into the couch, under his favorite blanket, looking like you belonged there.  It really wasn't long after that you fought your eyes from closing, and you finally lost that battle, falling quickly into sleep's embrace.  Soft snores came from the other end of the couch, and Sy couldn't stop from staring at you, watching you snooze like a complete creeper.  With every twitch, he scolded himself he should watch the movie, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from your sleeping form, happy you were comfortable enough, safe enough here with him to sleep. He expected you didn’t sleep well on your own based on the constant tired eyes you sported in the few months he had known you.  

He realized as Jack Burton praddled on in the basement of the warehouse in San Francisco’s Chinatown, that he felt like he had known you his whole life, that the connection the two of you had forged felt like one that would last the rest of his days on this earth.  And that scared him, scared him so much.  

Gently squeezing your ankles again, he forced himself to watch the movie, emptying his beer, leaving the bottle resting against his other leg. As much as he’d like another, he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to wake you, didn't want to take that chance.  Instead he settled for running his thumb over your ankle bone, as he watched the rest of the movie.

After it ended, Sy sat there for a bit longer in the silence of his home. Enjoying it.  He didn’t realize how much he missed having someone else in his space until you appeared. Yes he missed Aika and was counting down until she was released from quarantine since their last deployment.  But it had been even longer since he had another human, a woman, in his space.  Having someone who understood his work, at least at the surface level.  Though after Jake and the Losers’ demise would you be willing to get involved with another military man?   

Sy rubbed his free hand over his face and beard.  Fuck.  He knew he was jumping the gun more than a hair.  You were still fresh in your grief over your husband and friends' deaths.  Why would he be thinking about making this anything more than ‘just friends’ at this point?  That wasn’t fair to you.  You were so vulnerable and trying hard to be the strong woman you expected yourself to be.  He couldn’t hope for anything from you more than just friendship.  And he was happy with that.  He really was.  He’d take you in his life anyway you were willing to give. 

With a deep sigh, he rose from the couch, watching as your legs stretched out, your feet rubbing together and settling in the warm spot he left behind as you continued to slumber.   As cozy as you looked, he couldn’t leave you here.  The bed in the guest room had become a makeshift laundry sorting and pile spot, despite how clean he kept the rest of the house.  That left his bed as the only other option.   He’d deposit you there and then come back and sleep on the couch himself. He’d napped on it plenty over the years. He’d manage just fine for a full night.  Hell, he’d slept in way worst places thanks to the US Army.  

Pulling the throw his great aunt made for him before he left for the military off of you, Sy carefully picked you up, pulling you close, cradling you in his arms.  Instinctually, you curled into him, seeking his warmth, pressing your face to his chest.  Smiling, he headed down the hall, gently kicking the door open.  He felt your fingers tangle in his shirt as he shifted you, your fingers catching a hair or two off of his belly in the t-shirt he was wearing.  As he walked to the side of the bed, you seemed to burrow further into his arms, as if you sensed he was trying to separate the two of you, and you didn’t want that to happen.  Aaran didn’t want that to happen.  He wanted to crawl into this bed with you, his bed, but that wasn’t fair to you, nor to him.  Especially when you muttered a soft “I love you” to your deceased husband.

Instead he laid you on the bed, and pulled your hand from his shirt by distracting you with soft kisses across your forehead. Laying the blanket around you and standing to leave.  From the doorway, he looked back, watching you seem to effortlessly settle into his bed, and into his heart.

“Ni-night, baby.”

Sy woke the next morning on the couch, curled on his side, his head resting on the throw pillow, a blanket pulled over him.  His arms were crossed tight across his chest, the couch giving him so little space for his appendages.  But as he sat up with a crick in his neck, he remembered why he had slept out here as he pulled the blanket into his lap, your soft smell filling his nose.  A small smile crossed his face as he folded the soft fleece and laid it across the back of the sofa.  

Glancing at his watch, he recognized the super early hour and figured as tired as you had been lately he could get a decent run in before you were up this morning.  Stretching his back, he headed towards the laundry room, knowing he had just washed some shorts and old t-shirts yesterday, certain he could use them for his morning exercise without needing to bug you.  

It was after he donned the soft well loved clothes that he realized he had cast his running shoes into a corner of his bathroom the other day when he was too lazy to take them off by the door, in too much of a hurry to get to the shower. 

“Fuck.”  Quietly he opened the door to the bedroom, praying the usually squeaky hinges were quiet,  his sight immediately falling on you, looking for any sign that he had woken you.  Finding none, he quickly shuffled to the bathroom, snagging the pair of shoes off the floor, before turning to escape.  Before he could, you moved, your legs shuffled under the blanket maybe, or you drew a deeper breath, or maybe your pinky flexed, and it drew his attention to the bed.  He forbade himself from moving any closer to you than where he was.  He also forbade himself from thinking how right you looked curled up in the bed, his bed.  He felt his body react at the thought of forgetting all about his morning run for a different form of exercise he possibly could get in if he slipped into the bed with you.  Instead he reminded himself again that you were newly widowed, and the last thing you needed right now was someone fucking with you, literally.  He had no right to try to act on the feelings that were growing with each passing day, passing hour, passing second.  

With a rueful sigh, he let himself out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.  After slipping his shoes on, he set up the ancient coffee maker to begin brewing, knowing at the very least he would appreciate the warm beverage when he returned.  By the look of the sky outside, Sy would be lucky if he came home dry let alone warm.  

GrabbIng an empty envelope from a pile of mail on his counter, he quickly wrote you a note to inform you of his intent to return shortly which he propped up on a clean mug.  Grabbing his ear buds off the counter, he headed out, hoping a hard run would chase the impure thoughts about you out of his head. 

Instead his iPod had other plans.  Sy hit skip as soon as A.D.I.D.A.S appeared on the screen as he hit play, swearing for not the first time that he needed to take that song off of his iPod all together.  A couple blocks away he realized just how inappropriate the lyrics to Black Dog actually were.  He skipped through almost half of his playlist, realizing how dirty many of the lyrics were, even songs he thought were harmless like Brown Sugar. Even that one Katy Perry guilty pleasure song made a maddening appearance in his ears. 

He was glad it started to rain as he hit the halfway point of his long run, realizing the run itself was doing little to kill his inappropriate thoughts about you.  When his shuffled playlist threw back to back songs Pearl Necklace and Relax by Frankie goes to Hollywood in his brain, Sy yanked the earbuds out and stuffed them in his pocket.  He picked up the pace to make it home before he was soaked to the bone, though the thought of taking a shower was glorious at this point, and even that brought thoughts of you to his brain.  He couldn’t win, he decided, and slowed his pace, letting the cold of the rain soak into his skin.  

His blood ran cold to match the weather as he saw you sitting curled up on his porch, still dressed in his shirt and sweats, but now they were wet.  Why were you outside? Why weren’t you inside?  What had happened?  His feet splashed through the puddles in his yard as he raced to you.  You didn’t even flinch as he jogged up the steps, the dread in his chest sinking into his gut.  “What’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling in front of you, a hand on your knee.  With a violent swipe, you pushed his hand away, revealing your face to him, both causing his heart to fracture.  “What happened, baby?” he tried again, settling his own knees beside you.  

“Don’t call me that,” you growled, using the sleeve of his shirt you had slept in to wipe at the snot and tears that accumulated on your face. 

Sitting back, Sy looked at you, trying to assess what had happened, but his brain didn’t come up with much outside of his ogling of you earlier, did you catch him?  Did he do something else that you deemed inappropriate? What the hell happened in the hour or so since he had left for his run?  With a deep breath to center himself, he focused on what he could do for you now.  “Let’s get you inside,” he said, grabbing for your arm which you ripped from his grip.  

“Lemme go.”

Putting his hands up in surrender, he got your message you didn't want to be touched, and he stood and reached for the door, finding it locked.  Silently, he slipped from the porch back out into the rain to go grab the spare key he kept hidden in the shed.  He returned to find you curled back in on yourself.  He opened the door, turning to tell you, but found you getting to your feet.  He quickly stepped back as you pushed through the door, ripping your bag and clothes from the hook as your wet bare feet slapped against the wood floors.  How you did not slip he didn’t have any clue, which only made you more impressive than you already were in his opinion.  

“I need you to take me to my car,” you said, your voice rough and haggard, snapping him out of his thoughts as you retreated to the bathroom, the door slamming making him wince.  

“Well fuck me,” he muttered, suddenly catching up that he had no idea what had happened to make  you go from the sweet girl cuddled into his couch last night to this thunder cloud and it didn’t seem like you were willing to tell him what had happened .  Pulling the wet shirt from his frame, he grabbed a hoodie from a hook, switching their places as he reached for his truck keys and headed out the door.  His running shorts weren’t as soaked as the shirt and he figured he didn’t have time to change them anyway.  Instead he turned the truck on, cranking the heat, hoping it was a hair warmer than the damp air outside by the time you two climbed in.  

He stepped back into his foyer as you reemerged from the guest bathroom, your bag slung over your shoulder.  “Let’s go,” you snapped, grabbing your work shoes as you headed out the door.  

“Alright.”  He followed you out, half noticing you pause on the porch as he locked the door behind you.  He didn’t think too much of it as you stalked towards the truck, not even trying to get in front of you to grab the door, uncharacteristically letting you climb in for yourself.  

Putting the truck into drive after you had snapped your seat belt on, Sy noted you checking your phone that had been sitting on the seat when you climbed in.  Suddenly things started to make a little more sense; you had lost your phone, you were worried about Jolene because you were certain you were going to let the other woman down.  You were always too fucking hard on yourself, and he wished he could make you stop.  You needed to stop.  You were doing all you could for Jolene, and Madre, and he imagined Aubrey too though he hadn’t seen the girl since the accident. He made a mental note to check in on her soon.  But not now.  “Fuck,” you softly swore, as you cradled your head, your voice suddenly so tired and worn. 

“Gonna tell me what's got you so wound up?” Sy tried again,  

“Nope,” you replied, letting the P pop loudly in the cab.  “Just need to go home.”

He may be a man, but he knew when to take a hint.  He wasn’t going to get anywhere with you right now by pushing.  He let it go. For now.  “A’ight.”

He noticed you gathering your things tighter in your fists as you neared the parking lot, and your car.  He would have snorted that you looked like one of his seasoned men about to tuck and roll out of a military vehicle if he wasn't so pissed off and confused at the moment.  He couldn't believe his ears when he heard the door open before he even came to a complete stop.  You were gonna hurt yourself.   

“Sugar, wait-” He threw the truck into park and grabbed for your elbow, trying to slow you down but you were gone before he could get a solid hold on you.  He silently cursed himself for having parked with your car next to your door, he should have thought that one through a little more as he dropped to the ground and rounded the front of the truck to see you peel out of the lot without a glance at him.  

“Goddamnit.”

He sucked in a deep breath before dropping his hands from his hips, and climbed back into the truck.  He stared at the entrance that you had just left from, pondering for a moment if he should follow you and try to make you talk to him or if he should just let you go.  You did seem to deflate some after you checked your phone.  Maybe it was just that you had been worried about Jolene, and nothing more.  

Dropping the truck into drive, he headed for home, giving you space you clearly wanted right now.  There was nothing he could do for you if you didn’t let him in.  As soon as he got there, he grabbed his phone from where he left it during his run, on the charger in the kitchen, and sent you a text asking if you got home ok.  With no more than that, he tossed it aside and strode to his bathroom, making himself to ignore where you had slept last night.  He was going to take this forced separation from you to get his head back on straight, taking the time to remind himself the only reason he had even met you was because of your husband’s recent accident.  So very recent, way too recent for him to be thinking you would want anything with anyone else.  

Angrily he stripped off his hoodie, tossing it and his shorts in the hamper in the corner of the bathroom. Turning the water on to warm up, he stripped the rest of his clothes before stepping under the spray trying to wipe you from his brain as he felt his body stir at that barest of thought of you.  Using all countless tactics he had used while sharing space with other men in the barracks earlier in his career, Sy willed himself to calm down, his hardon subsiding for the time being.  Touching himself at the thought of you was not going to solve anything.  If nothing else, it would make things worse for him, of that he was certain. Flipping the hot off completely at the end of the shower, he stood under the cold spray to the count of 60.  

With a shiver he cut the water and grabbed for his towel, searching his brain for what he was going to do with his Saturday.  He had spent the past few with you, and he was certain he had left things unattended to, though he currently couldn't think of anything outside of checking on you.  Wrapping the towel around his waist, he headed to the kitchen, grabbing the phone to find the super unpersonal thumbs up from you.  “Fuck you too,” he muttered under his breath, tossing the phone aside again.  He swept your coffee cup off the table, emptying it and the coffee pot in the sink.

Monday morning came with little fanfare for Aaran Syverson.  He had spent the weekend finding all manner of things to wipe you off of his brain, knowing he couldn’t do anything about you or this growing feeling until you worked out whatever happened on Saturday morning.  He hit the gym on base, pressing himself to his limits, driving the unwelcome thoughts of what you were going through without him from his brain.  Sunday he was paying for it, though he would never admit it to anyone else, his joints aching, his muscles just this side of painful.  What he also wouldn't admit to anyone else was that his phone was always just an arms reach away, all day Sunday as he mowed his meticulously already mowed lawn on Thursday evening.  Once that was done, he tried to banish you by binging on some tv show a station was playing back to back to back.  But all he accomplished there was demolishing a six pack.  

Checking his phone when he woke on the couch Monday, he let out a pained exhale and bit the bullet, sending a text asking if you were ok and if he could come over after work so you two could talk.  “Whatever this is isn't good for either of us any more,” he reasoned out loud to himself.   

He arrived early that morning to work, beating everyone else by almost 45 minutes.  He spent the time going through the mound of paperwork in his inbox, administrative stuff he hated about being the leader of a team and had pushed aside to deal with another day.  The fact that “another day” arrived should have told anyone around him something was wrong, but his team didn’t seem to notice.  Or did notice and chose not to say anything.   

Ten minutes before it was time to meet his men to start their day, his superior officer walked into his office, informing Sy that he and his team were to be in the debrief room at quarter after the hour, giving him little else to go on.  And maybe that’s why his men didn’t notice anything was going on with him, they too didn’t expect a mission briefing first thing on Monday morning. The rest of the day was spent prepping equipment and themselves to go out first thing Tuesday morning.

Syverson spent Monday night laying on the couch staring at the darkened living room ceiling.  He didn’t allow himself to even think about the reasoning why he hadn’t slept in his own bed the past 3 nights.  His only hope -that clearly had absolutely no bearing on why he was on the couch again- was that your scent will have completely disappeared from his bed linens by the time he returned, whenever that was.  

As soon as he got to base the next morning, he sent you a text informing you of his departure.  “I got your message that you don’t want to talk to me loud and clear.  I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out on a mission, and I do not know how long I’ll be gone.  If when I return I have not heard from you, I promise I will respect your wishes and refrain from contacting you again.”

With one last disappointing look at his messages, he shut down his phone, throwing it into the glove box of his truck.  Biting the inside of his cheek, he opened the door and dropped his booted feet to the ground, grabbing his go bag out of the back seat before slamming the door.  With a deep grounding breath, and another one following it, Sy tried to shift his focus from you to the mission.  He had to or he would compromise the lives of his men.  The intel they had on this was limited, and if he didn’t get his brain in line, someone was going to get hurt or worse.  The teams, all of them really,  were already reeling from Clay and the others’ accident and even though the US Army denied any involvement of their actions, that was to be expected in the world of the Special Forces.  Though they were all elte trained,  they all knew they could wing up just escape goats for the US government if it was needed. Sy and other officers who had been close to any of the members in Clay’s team knew in their heart of hearts that’s what had happened, that The Losers did nothing wrong.  They had seen other teams take the fall for US military failures.  

If Sy wanted to keep his own men safe and from seeing the others too soon, he needed to drop you from his mind and focus on the task at hand.  

Roughly four days later, though Sy wasn’t even sure how many days they truly were gone with the time zone changes and copious amount of flight time, he was back on the ground in North Carolina.  After the team was debriefed and released, Sy and a couple of the guys were walking to their vehicles, packs slung over their shoulders, chatting about their plans for the weekend.

“Hey Captain,” Anthony called as Sy unlocked his truck, his fingers itching to grab his phone and see if he’s heard anything from you.   

With an unsteady exhale, Sy turns his head to his second.  “Yeah?”   

Anthony stopped at the front fender of the truck, glancing to see if the other men were out of ear shot before he continued.  “Do me a favor, man?” the slighter man asked.  

“What’s that?” Sy questioned, truly unaware of what was about to be asked of him.  

“Can you figure out your pussy problem this weekend?” 

Sy’s eyes narrowed and he saw red, his fist curling around the door frame.  That was the last thing he expected from Anthony.  Yeah, you were never very far from the forefront of Sy’s brain the last few days but outside of one slip up that got no one even hurt let alone killed, Sy thought he had it under wraps.  

“Next time we get called, it may not be a drill, it may wind up being the real deal, ya know?” the younger man said.  “Whoever this new chick is, she’s got your brain messed up, man.  Others may not see it, or may be too scared of you to say shit, but I see you are not firing on all cylinders.  Gotta be cuz of a woman. You don’t get like this often.  Last time was what’s her face, Sh-“

“I don’t need to be reminded of her name, Lieutenant,” Sy snapped.  He remembered the last woman that had his brain in a twist.  The one he was sweet on before they deployed to Baqubah, the one who promised to wait for him.  The one who waited all of 2 weeks before sending the Dear John letter. Shit the way the mail system worked when they were deployed, it was likely she dropped it in the mail box on her way home from saying goodbye to him before his flight.

You were nothing like her.  You were leagues beyond her, better than her.   You had more heart in your little finger than Sy’s ex had in her uncaring whole body.  

The other officer stood staring at Sy, waiting for an answer.   He hated that Anthony knew him so well as to know when his brain was elsewhere. He guessed that’s why they worked so well together.  Also explained why Anthony picked up some slack on the training op.  

“I’ll get it together,” Sy promised, if for no other reason then to make the man back the fuck off and go home.  “I’ll see you on Monday.”  Sy slammed the truck door after tossing his pack into the back seat.  Cranking the key in the ignition, Sy dropped his truck into reverse, throwing his wrap-around sunglasses on his face as he sped off towards home, needing a shower and to check his phone.   

Before he even got out of the truck in his driveway, he booted up his phone.  His heart pounded as he saw a notification of a voice mail message.  Clicking play, Sy was as damn near to tears as he had been in a long time.  It was Cougar’s mom inviting him for dinner tonight.  It wasn’t you offering a single hint of what was going on in your head. 

Sy vowed then and there to let you go. He was far too wrapped up in you and your heartache to be healthy for himself.  He needed to think about himself for once. Your silence told him to back off, and he had no choice to do it, for both of you. 

General Tag List: @littleone65, @mysweetlittledesire @jvanilly

BBTF Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sconnie-doesnt-know, @ronearoundlightly

HC Tag LIst: @m07belzen, @used-to-be-bourbonwithice, @hawklin, @geralts-yenn @summersong69

Syverson tag list: @mrsevans90

if you wish to be added or removed from tag lists let me know.

#Blinded by the fog series #behind the scenes fic #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain sy #captain sy x reader #captain syverson #captain syverson fic #captain syverson x reader #jake jensen x reader #fluff #syverson fanfiction #syverson fanfic #syverson #cpt syverson #syverson x reader #captain syverson x ofc #syverson x you #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen #the losers fanfiction #crossover fic #syverson fluff #captain syverson angst

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 11

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 10 🍂 Part 12

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Here. We. Fucking. Go. SMUT. 18+. NSFW. MINORS DNI. Ah, yes, the song of my people. Fingering + oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, loss of virginity, safe sex, some angst, some fluff... y'know. The good stuff.

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: SO. When I told miss ma'am @keanureevesisbae that this chapter was going to be a long one, and that I had 1k and I'd barely started, she guessed it was smut immediately. (She literally used the words 'Ch11 is smut. There is no other option.') She was right. You bet your ass I'm not writing 1k smut for a first time (or in general?... I like lengthy smut?) I hope y'all are happy now. I know I am! Now girl, get your butt home and read this 😘😘😘

IMPORTANT PSA: It's a first time - without any blood and without any pain. I'm not about that stuff. So if you're someone still waiting for that moment (even if you're a minor who hasn't turned away yet), read it and don't weep: First times don't have to hurt if you take your damn time and make sure everybody's comfortable with everything that's going on. Anyone who can't do that for you? Kick them TF out of your damn bed or wherever the hell you are. And if it still won't happen despite having tried all the smart stuff (smart stuf is NOT putting stuff like vaseline in your vagina, by the way): GO SEE YOUR DOCTOR. And use condoms. Just... Can't stress that enough.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt

Sy was going to pick you up at 7. By the time it was 6.30, you were ready to go, but definitely not ready in any other capacity. Julie’s advice had been simple: ‘Let him take the lead, you just shave.’ And that last bit was pretty much optional. She’d overheard some drunk conversations between Patrick, Sy and the rest of the boys… He didn’t exactly seem fussy when it came to grooming choices. Nice to know. Maybe a tad too much info.

You checked your outfit another twelve times, your hair another twenty at least, and you did four more laps of the house before it was finally… 6.35? Really?

It took four solid eternities until that knock on the door at 7 on the dot. Your hands trembled when you opened the door, and when you opened your mouth to say something, you couldn’t make a sound.

“Hi beautiful,” he said with a big smile, “ready?” You just nodded, as you were still unable to speak, and followed him to his car. He looked good tonight, as always, and you decided it should be illegal for anyone to look this handsome in jeans and a t-shirt. The denim of his jeans was stretched tight around his thighs, and his shirt almost looked to be at risk of giving out. Alright, maybe you were taking some creative liberties there, but it definitely looked tight and it bothered you that he had it on in the first place. Quite frankly, it bothered you that he had anything on to begin with. During dinner, you had the worst time trying to keep your eyes off him.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t a very creative date,” Sy said at the end of the night, as you walked back to his truck. You laughed at that.

“I didn’t need a creative date, Sy. It just needed to be good.” You snuggled into his side when he threw an arm around your shoulders.

“Was it?” He almost looked shy when he asked, as if he was afraid you were going to tell him it hadn’t been a good date. As if you were going to reject him… But how could you? How could anyone? You put your hand over his and brushed your thumb over the back of his hand.

“Very,” you said, smiling up at him. The way he smiled back at you made you bite your lip. Everything had changed. And anything that accidentally hadn’t changed by now, would change tonight. A voice in your head told you that it wasn’t too late to turn back, that you could go back to being friends…

“Are you alright, Sugar,” Sy asked, his voice all kindness and compassion, “you seem nervous?” Of course he could tell you were nervous. You were a virgin with a terrible poker face, out on a dinner date with the guy you hoped would later tonight become your first. If your face din’t give it away, common sense would.

“I am,” you whispered softly. In the spur of the moment, you made a decision that – in hindsight – was very brave; to trust him. “There’s a part of me that’s telling me it’s not too late to go back to being friends.”

“Neither of us want that, darlin’,” he said as he shook his head. You knew he was right.

“It’s just the nerves, isn’t it?” He nodded.

Both of you were quiet on the drive back to your house. Your thoughts were running away with you, thinking up every doomscenario imaginable, no matter how ridiculous it was. No, the bed wasn’t going to break. No, Sy wasn’t going to hurt you. No, your mother wouldn’t all of a sudden barge into your house announcing loudly that she’d be staying until Christmas. It was just going to be you and Sy, and it was going to be at least as good as last time. One thing you were definitely excited about was being able to wake up next to him again. You had been missing those strong arms around you every morning for the past week. And the feeling of his hairy chest against your back… Somehow you convinced yourself to stick with the thoughts about what you were looking forward to until you pulled up in the driveway, where Sy – as always - walked over to your side to help you out of the truck. He firmly held onto your hand as you walked up to the front door, and while you were fumbling for your keys in your bag, he pulled you into him and gently placed a finger underneath your chin, lifting your face up to his slowly and carefully.

“Hey Sugar, mind if I kiss ya?” This time, no one needed any saving from broken porches and whatnot. It was just you and him, nothing more, nothing less. His lips left yours far too soon, and you continued your search for the keys even more frantically than you had started it. Needless to say, it didn’t work: these damn keys were nowhere to be found.

“Sy, help,” you laughed as you handed him your bag. He found them within seconds and opened the door.

Sy leaned against the door, causing it to fall shut. He didn’t do anything, didn’t try anything, he just stood there, quiet and still, waiting for you to take any kind of initiative.

“I’m scared,” you whispered as you took one step closer to him.

“Scared or nervous?” he asked. You could tell from the look in his eyes that it made an immense difference to him to keep these two apart in this type of scenario.

“Nervous,” you stammered. It wasn’t a lie, despite them being the worst nerves you had ever dealt with.

“So am I,” he replied. The smile on his face was genuine and sweet. You could see he was telling the truth, although there was no doubt a big difference between the amount of nerves he felt compared to what you were going through. He reached for your hand, and you let him guide you to the living room. He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you there, waiting for him to come back. Your couch had never been this uncomfortable. Sy returned from the kitching holding a beer in one hand and an iced tea – or ‘sweet tea’, if you wanted to avoid another half hour lecture from Jules – in the other. You almost dropped the glass when he handed it to you and cursed your butter fingers and dumb nerves. He just sat down and turned the TV on, looking far more at ease on your couch than you did right now, which put you on edge even more. There wasn’t a single part of your body that wasn’t trembling, your was brain going back and forth between your desire to kiss him and the desire to send him home, and on top of that you wondered why he didn’t do anything. Did you even want him to? You sure weren’t going to… Maybe he didn’t want to push you? He was going to wait a long time if he expected you to take the first step… Eventually, you lifted your glass to your lips to take another sip of your drink, only to find out you had finished it. You were still shaking as you set your glass back down on the coffee table.

“Darlin’, c’mere.” He put an arm on the back of the couch, inviting you to sit closer to him. Somehow, being close to him made you feel less nervous. Sy made you feel safe. Nothing was going to happen to you as long as you were close to him. You let out a sigh and nestled into his side, humming contently as his arm moved from the couch to your shoulder. This was good. This felt right. His fingers drew patterns on the skin of your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The movements weren’t pressing, it wasn’t an attempt at anything other than being there with you and stroking your arm. You were sure you would never be able to put into words how much you appreciated that, even if you spent the rest of your life trying.

It was almost ten when you felt Sy move. For a moment you were afraid he was going to get up and leave, and you panicked a bit. It was a much stronger reaction than you felt was necessary, but you really didn’t want him to leave.

“Sy,” you said softly, looking up at him. He was looking back at you, his eyes asking you to continue. “Why are you nervous?” You felt stupid for asking as soon as the words were out, but there was no taking them back now.

“All that talk about makin’ this special…” he chuckled softly, “now I gotta make good on that promise. Don’t want ya to think I’m all talk…” Despite what he was saying, there was no hint of any insecurities in his eyes. Sy looked completely calm. You told him as much.

“I mostly am,” he replied, “got some experience to help shut these nerves up.” You’d expected to hate any reference to his experience, but you didn’t. None of that mattered right now, he was here. He was with you. He was yours.

“Sy,” you said slowly, “I need you to take the lead.” It wasn’t a lie, even though you still hated to admit to needing anyone. You let out a small, soft, nervous little laugh, and you couldn’t keep it from trembling a little, but it was enough. He pulled you into his lap the same way he’d done the week before, straddling his thighs, although he was a little quicker to put a hand on your ass this time around. When he tried to wink, you couldn’t contain another laugh. This one was louder and more comfortable. Sy smiled at you, you smiled back. From the outside, this probably looked really stupid, but as a part of it, it was a lovely and intimate moment. If only it ended and changed into something more… But it didn’t. Neither of you moved.

“One of us is going to have to do it,” you heard yourself say.

“Don’t gotta tell me, Sugar, but I…” You knew exactly what he was trying to say. You couldn’t. He couldn’t. But why – the fuck – not? You knew what you were hung up on, but what was his problem? Was he more nervous than he led on? Did he think you didn’t want this? Did he not want this? Fuck!

“Fuck,” you cried out in frustration, anger, maybe sadness, “why is this happening? This is bullshit! I want you, Sy, literally so bad. I want to kiss you. I want you to kiss me. Why can’t we…” Sy’s mouth crashed into yours, swallowing up the last of your sentence. Whatever you were going to say didn’t matter, it was obsolete, forgotten. Lips parted, tongues met, danced, retreated. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, making you moan, turning the sound into a whimper when he bit into it softly. You wrapped an arm around his neck, your hand at the back of his head, pulling him closer to you, the other wrapped around his chest, stroking his back. He moaned softly into your mouth when your nails softly scraped his scalp, down to the nape of his neck. He explored every part of your body he could get his hands on in this position, kneading the flesh of your ass, your hips, your sides, your thighs, leaving every bit of you he touched burning, longing, waiting…

Your thoughts were racing and your heart seemed to try to catch up to them. Weirdly enough, you weren’t worried or nervous anymore, just hopelessly in love and very, very turned on. Your only complaint at this time was that there wasn’t more of Sy touching more of you. Every inch of you was screaming for him, begging for him, pleading with every ounce of your being that he would never leave… And then he was gone.

Heavy hands pressed firmly down onto your shoulders and held you at a distance. It was a while before you dared to open your eyes, afraid you wouldn’t find him in front of you when you did, but when you finally looked, he was there. Half-smiling his way through a pained look and frown, trying to catch his breath. The pressure on your shoulders disappeared as his hands moved up to capture your face in between them. Sy gently pulled you towards him, until you were close enough for him to press a sweet kiss on your forehead before leaning his brow against yours. A warm chuckle escaped his throat.

“Y’alright, baby?” he asked in between heavy breaths. A hum and a nod were all you could manage. Sy spent another minute catching his breath while his hands softly traveled up and down your thighs, before picking you up in the same way he had the week before and carrying you off to the same destination.

You frowned when Sy pulled away after he put you down on the bed, but you were pleased to see he din’t go far. He was sitting right there, on his knees in between your legs, with your thighs draped over his. More importantly; he was taking his shirt off, which made you feel all kinds of ways, but the only way you could articulate it was: ‘yay’. Since there was no way you were supposed to say that out loud, you fought the urge to blurt it out and ended up moaning instead. Close enough. You were barely aware of your own fingers reaching for the hem of your own top until your necklace got stuck when you tried to pull it over your head. Sy was quick to help you untangle everything, even though it was hard for him. Those fingers were definitely made for far less refined work. When his hands moved towards the clasp of your bra, you stopped him. Sy looked at you questioningly – and sad, pouting even, which was adorable – but you shook your head. It wasn’t every day that you put on matching underwear – especially for a man – and he was at least going to see it, dammit, even if he didn’t give a damn about these things. It had been one of Julie’s little confidence boosting tips – she had even helped you justify the strategic acquisition of a new, possibly slightly outrageously expensive set. Sy was suspiciously quick to put two and two together when you refused his attempt to take your bra off, and his fingers tentatively moved toward the waistband of your jeans, a question burning in his eyes: ‘May I?’. You couldn’t look into his eyes as you answered. Instead, you turned your head away and whispered your answer very softly. You glanced in his direction from the corner of your eyes as he took your pants off.

You were going to have to ask Julie if that lovely tip of hers had been solely for the purpose of boosting your confidence, or if she’d secretly known what his reaction was going to be like, but either way you’d need to thank her. Sy’s eyes went wide when he looked at the pale blue lace contraption that kept you from being completely exposed. You shivered when his hands reached for your hips, pinching softly before trailing down your thighs. His hands felt good on your skin; a little rough, but you could tell he was trying to be gentle, and they were warm, which was more than you could say of the air in the room. Your next shiver came from the realization that it was, in fact, quite cold, which was more than apparent from the the way your nipples poked through the material of your underwear.

It caused you to feel an overwhelming urge to hide, but Sy didn’t let you.

“Don’t…” he said, his voice breaking up. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Sugar, don’t hide. You’re beautiful.”

The heat of his body fixed the problem you were having with the cold when he leaned over you to press his lips to yours again. The kiss started off slow, almost casual, before he deepened it and the intensity from before returned instantly. You ran the fingers of one hand through his beard while the other rested on his back, making subtle attempts to pull him closer to you. Eventually, he gave in and closed the remaining space between your bodies, only to move away near immediately. You whined when his lips left yours, wondering why he had to stop kissing you all of a sudden. It had been nice. Stopping wasn’t a good idea – it was a terrible one, in fact. Then why was he doing it? Your questions were answered when you heard the metal of his belt buckle and you gasped. It turned into a chuckle when you watched Sy take off his own jeans in such a hurry that it only slowed him down.

“Laughing at me, are ya, Sugar?” He laughed as he fell back on top of you, catching himself in time to keep from crushing you underneath his body. His lips found yours fleetingly before traveling to your ear, and from there down your neck to your cleavage. Sy couldn’t hide his enthusiasm as he turned his attention to your boobs, kneading them, grazing his fingers over your nipples, making you writhe and moan as his mouth explored the exposed skin of your chest. One hand made its way around your back, unhooking your bra with impressive ease.

“It’s really goddamn pretty, baby, but I want to see you,” he murmured softly against your skin as he unwrapped your breasts – ‘unwrapped’ being an apt descriptor, because Sy looked like a kid on Christmas while he did it… That man was absolutely crazy about your boobs.

“Dammit, Sugar, you look so fucking good,” Sy growled before flicking his tongue over your nipple as he ground his hips into yours. He was hard, and you were suddenly painfully aware of how little fabric currently separated him from you. You couldn’t stop moving as Sy continued his eager attack on your chest, the need to relieve the scalding desire between your legs was too big, too pressing.

“Fuck,” you gasped when teeth fleetingly grazed the pebbled flesh of your nipple, “Sy, please.” Where you found the courage; no idea. Somehow you managed to push Sy’s hand down to your stomach, where he suddenly held still, drawing patterns on your skin. His mouth left your breast alone and worked its way back up to yours, kissing you gently before moving towards your ear. His waiting made you even more restless, and your writhing became more and more desperate with every passing second. Sy chuckled, the sound was warm and sweet in your ear and sent little jolts of electricity straigt down to your burning core. You pushed at his hand again, begging Sy to finally provide you with the friction you craved.

“You’re an eager li’l thing, ain’t ya?” he whispered. The sound of his voice in your ear was magical – which only made things worse for you – but what he said made you a bit nervous. Eager… Was that a good thing? Did he mean too eager? And why were you overthinking this instead of enjoying what was going on? The feeling of his hand sliding further down your stomach until his hand cupped your mound was enough to stop your negative thoughts in their tracks and send them all the way to hell.

“Want me to go on?” You couldn’t even focus on answering while two of his fingers teased you by very lightly drumming a lazy rhythm on your swollen clit.

“Please,” you blurted out, “stop teasing, just…” You were practically sobbing at this point, begging to be touched.

“You best take those off, Sugar,” he laughed in reply to your plea, “I don’t think I can do it without fuckin’ ‘em up.” Your panties were off and on the floor before he’d even finished that sentence. For the love of God, could he just fucking touch you already? You fell back into his arms with an aggravated sigh, the end of which was drowned out by Sy’s grunt when he dragged a finger through your wet folds.

“Fuck, Sugar,” he growled in your ear, “such a wet goddamn pussy.” His voice was that of a man entirely drunk on lust – and somehow you found that empowering? You were startled when Sy gently pushed his finger into your core. He was being careful, keeping a close eye on your reaction to see if he wasn’t hurting you or anything of the sort. It didn’t hurt; it felt good. Not the kind of good that would make you cum, but it was definitely nice. A second finger slipped into you with just as much ease, making you feel even better, but at the same time more desperate for the release you still weren’t getting. You couldn’t hold back the gasps, sighs or moans as Sy pumped his thick fingers slowly in and out of your pussy, searching your walls for a spot you knew existed in theory, but had never found. When he pulled his fingers out, you whined, wondering why the fuck he stopped, and you looked at him, frowning deeply. Of course he was looking back at you, chuckling at your anger.

“Sweetheart, I meant it when I said I wanted to take good care of ya,” Sy said softly in between kisses as he made his way down your neck, in between your breasts, down your stomach. His kisses left a wet trail in their wake, which made you shiver as it came into contact with the chilly air. “Will you let me?"

Fuck, he was cute when he licked his lips. And when he bit it. That didn’t make you less nervous, but it drove you wild enough to nod without giving it any thought. The real nerves hit you again when you saw his face in between your legs and it dawned on you what he was about to do… Whether he saw the hesitation in your eyes or the way you shaped up to stop him, you had no idea, but before you could say anything, his low growl stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Fuck, baby, you look fucking amazing,” he rasped, “such a pretty pussy.” Two of his fingers teased at your entrance, making you whine in a plea for more. Sy chuckled when he slipped them into you with ease.

“So fucking wet for me, can’t wait to taste ya.” He said the words so eagerly that you couldn’t doubt that he was speaking the truth, which settled the majority of your nerves. The rest vanished when his tongue hit your clit. The feeling consumed you completely; there was absolutely nothing else in this moment than Sy’s tongue working the sensitive little pearl between your legs. Fuck this was good. He was good – not that you had anything to compare him to, but still. All of your attention was forced into focusing on what he was doing. His fingers sliding in and out of your throbbing heat, his tongue flicking and occasionally sucking on your clit, his free hand reaching up to your chest… All of it caused the pressure inside you to build, higher and higher until you finally snapped. You felt your walls clench around Sy’s fingers as your hips twitched uncontrollably while you rode out your high on his tongue before collapsing. When you heard him laugh, you looked down. Something in those eyes was cooking up the devious plan to put you through that again, but there was no way you could handle that. First of all because ow, sensitive? And second of all because you needed something else from him. Something your entire body begged for. You reached for his face to pull him back up to you, crushing your mouth against his in a frantic – and very wet – kiss. To your surprise, it didn’t bother you to taste yourself on his lips; if anything it added to your arousal. Most of the restraint he had shown you before was gone – his kiss was the epitome of unbridled desire that matched yours so effortlessly it was almost scary. There was no doubt in your mind that you needed this man as close to you as humanly possible, sooner rather than later.

“Sy,” you gasped into his mouth whenever you saw the chance to speak, “I need you.” He growled in reply. “Now.” You’d never had your body scream so hard for something it had never experienced before, it was remarkable if you thought about it – which you would… later… But definitely not now, no, now was the time for unhinged lust and unfamiliar urges, and angrily mourning Sy’s withdrawal only to find he was taking care of the last bit of clothing he was wearing. Now was the time to take a look at him naked, only to come to the conclusion that your dreams hadn’t been doing him any kind of justice… The reality was far more impressive than anything your mind had managed to come up with so far. Now was the time to stare at Sy, your eyes wide with fear and your mouth open in suprise, and for him to kiss you softly on the tip of your nose before reassuring you that everything would be fine.

He looked around for something, impatiently and frantically and with increasing frustration very apparent in his behavior. You looked at him questioningly.

“Condoms are in my bag,” and that bag was still by your front door…

“I think I still have some,” you said. It would be hard to find any time in your life you’d looked through your nightstand so eagerly before. After some time, you found what you were looking for.

“Of course,” you sighed. They were fucking expired. Good going… You were astounded by your own lack of preparation. The time it took Sy to get to the hall and back was just enough to build up your nerves all over again. This was happening. It was really happening… Some of the excitement was pushed back by nerves. You had seen what you were dealing with, but your brain could in no way make sense of the logistics. There was just no way that was ever going to fit. You were so caught up in freaking out that you hadn’t heard Sy return and you first noticed his presence when he put a hand on your hip.

“Baby, you okay?” There was genuine concern in his eyes. You smiled and nodded, unable to speak. You were so ready for this, but so scared it was going to hurt.

“Talk to me, Sugar,” he said as he put a hand to the side of your face and gently brushed your cheekbone with his thumb. The longer he looked at you, the harder it became to keep your bottom lip from trembling.

“I don’t want it to hurt,” you whispered. You put your hand over his and squeezed it.

“It won’t,” Sy reassured you. “Trust me, breathe, talk to me, ‘kay?” Your nod was careful and quick. The lump in your throat didn’t disappear when you swallowed and your muscles tensed up when you felt the tip of Sy’s cock against your core. Sy chuckled when he noticed and he kissed you softly.

“That’s what’s gonna make it uncomfortable, Sweetheart, ya gotta relax.” It was easier said than done, but his kiss and the soft kindness he showed you in everything he did helped a lot. Everything went well for a bit, until it didn’t. Sy saw the discomfort on your face and stopped moving. His mouth found yours, and he pulled you into a tender kiss, moving his lips against yours softly, calmly and at a gentle pace. He carefully took advantage of the moment he no longer felt your walls clench hard around him, inching himself further into you as you moaned into his mouth. The feeling of your walls stretched tight around his cock to accommodate all of it was surreal. It felt good - so fucking good, if you didn’t know any better you’d say it was magic.

For a moment you were busy with all the things you were feeling, and not concerned with Sy at all, until you heard him moan into your mouth.

“Can I move?” His voice was hoarse. “God, I wanna fuck your tight li’l pussy.” You moaned when he said it. It was strange to hear him talk like that, but it was so incredibly hot to hear how much he wanted you – and it made a part of you feel bad for not being as vocal as he was. The rhythm Sy settled on was slow and his thrusts were gentle. A bit too slow and gentle, maybe? The thought surprised you, but not more than the unconscious movements of your hips did. Without realizing it, you’d settled into the same rhythm, mirroring his movements so your hips met his with each thrust. Sy let his head hang next to yours and his moans and grunts and the feeling of his hot breath on your ear and in your neck drove you wild, which surprised you a little. Soon, you found yourself mirroring those noises as well, unable to keep quiet as Sy drove himself into your tight core time after time. It was as if he slowed down with every thrust – he didn’t – and your exasperation grew with every second as he stuck with the same agonizingly slow rhythm.

“Faster, please,” you moaned into his ear, and he was more than happy to oblige.

“Look at you, baby,” he growled in your ear as he picked up the pace,  “takin’ me so goddamn well.” His words made your head spin and you felt your walls clench around him as he said it. It was sweet, it was nice, but it was also something else entirely you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Your own moans and squeals mingled with his low grunts and growls as he sank into you with harsh, short thrusts that made you feel so good you could just about cry. Your senses were overwhelmed by all the different sensations; the feeling of Sy’s cock, vigorously pumping into you, filling you completely with every thrust of his hips; your skin, damp with sweat, exposed to the cool air; the sounds of skin against skin and Sy growling in your ear, mixed with the sounds of your own pleasure; the strangely arousing smell of sweat and… sex; the look on Sy’s face as every move he made pulled him closer and closer to the finish; and finally the salty taste of Sy’s skin that hit your tongue as you sank your teeth into his shoulder when his final thrusts were almost painfully erratic.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Sugar,” he laughed apologetically as he held you close for a moment. You winced at the feeling of emptiness when he pulled out of you and left your walls clenching around nothing. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple before moving away, disappearing from the room to handle the necessary clean-up. Maybe the cold came a little too abruptly, maybe it would have happened all the same if he’d stayed close to you for a little longer, in any case, a slight fit of panic set in. Sy couldn’t have been gone for more than two minutes, and when he returned he found you curled up on the covers, shivering and staring into space.

“Sugar, are you okay?” His hands were warm on your skin. It was nice.

“Tired,” you answered with a slight chuckle as the panic disappeared with every stroke of his hands. Everything was better now that he was here. “A bit overwhelmed…” That was probably not a weird thing, right? Sy sat next to you on the bed and gathered you up into his arms. It drew your attention to the sweat and… other fluids… you were covered with.

“And sticky,” you blurted out before you realized it. You somehow managed to laugh at that. In fact, you both laughed at that.

“You can go take a shower if you want?” Sy suggested. It was a great idea, but there was no way you were going to let go of him, and you told him that.

“Are you tellin’ me to come with ya?” Sy grinned and instead of rolling your eyes at him, you grinned back. Apparently, he took that as a yes, because he threw you over his shoulder while he muttered ‘don’t gotta tell me twice’ and carried you off to the bathroom.

“Wait!” you yelled when Sy wanted to drag you into the shower. He looked at you, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. You pointed at your hair before finding a scruncie and tying it up. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that that wasn’t much of an explanation for a man with more hair on his chest than on top of his head. “I can’t go to sleep with wet hair, it’s really bad for your hair.”

“Never knew,” Sy said. Something was clearly amusing to him, but you were too tired to question it. “Now, c’mere, Sugar, I wanna get to bed.” Sy’s strong arms combined with warm water were exactly what you needed right now to wind down and process everything that had happened tonight.

It was a good thing you had Sy with you, because it gave you something to lean against when your legs didn’t feel like it anymore, and someone to carry you back to bed when the time came.

“So, this is taking proper care of your woman, Sy?” you chuckled as you snuggled as close to him as possible. “Sugar, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

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