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#Captain Syverson
martha-oi · 2 days
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lainiespicewrites · 2 days
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Hey yall!
Um…so if any of you have an easy way or an easy explanation on how to put together a masterlist or like embed your links …so it’s not the whole big thing with the gif that pops up… I would be forever grateful! I have a masterlist but it looks so disorganized and I’d love for it to look like everyone else’s with just the title! But I’m so technologically disinclined 😂
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catierambles · 2 days
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Blood Moon Ch.17
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News of their engagement spread like wildfire through the rest of his family, Sy getting calls from his sisters-in-law the next day congratulating him along with his nieces and nephews (who were old enough to talk) being very excited that Annalisa was going to be their Aunt. She was a big hit with them, apparently. Annalisa got calls as well, having exchanged numbers with them the previous day during lunch. None of them mentioned or even hinted at their “conditions”, so either his brothers didn’t tell inform their wives (or ex-wife in the case of Jake), or they didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. It would have to be brought up eventually, as Annalisa had been correct, they would notice that she and Sy didn’t age as the children got older.
The idea that what made him turn furry also made him immortal was...something he'd unpack later, but the fact that it meant he would literally be spending forever with his Mate, and she wouldn’t watch her Tovaras age and die while she stayed the same, was a comfort.
“Hey, babe?” Sy said as he lounged in the couch in her office and she hummed in response, not looking up from her monitor. “Annalisa.”
“Yes?” She asked, catching his tone.
“What happens...what happens if a vampires’ Tovaras dies?” He asked, “You said that you knew Markus wasn’t because his death didn’t destroy you. What would’ve happened if he had been?”
“You sure you want to know?” She asked and he paused.
“Yeah.” He said finally.
“I’d die.” She said simply, “Not right away, but I...” She sighed, “I saw it happen once, a friend of mine, a member of my coven. His Tovaras, Daniel, died in a car accident before he had a chance to Turn him.”
“Okay.”
“David just...stopped. Everything. He stopped going out, he stopped talking to people, he stopped feeding. It wasn’t just grief, it wasn’t just him being depressed from losing his lover, he was...he was dead inside. We tried to help him, tried to get him to feed, getting him animal blood, human blood from donation drives run by vampires for those who don’t want to take from the source, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He starved to death.”
“Fuck.” Sy said with a sigh, running a hand over his face.
“We had him cremated and his ashes interred next to Daniels’.” She said, “If something happened to you, or if you were still human and refused to let me Turn you, I would suffer the same fate, but I wouldn’t care. You were gone, so I wouldn’t have any reason to live. I’d have died when you did, but my physical death would come later.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask what would happen to me if you died.” Sy said and she sighed. “You know, don’t you.”
“Yeah, Kyle, I do. Wolves that lose their Mates go insane, go rabid, and need to be...put down, for their own sake and the safety of everyone around them.”
“Fuck.” He said again and she got up from her desk, going over to the couch and laying on him gently, her head on his chest and her hands holding his sides. He wrapped his arms around her immediately, holding her tight. “I’m not losin’ you. Never. And you’re never losin’ me."
"The rest of your family needs to be told about us." She said, "Preferably before the wedding."
"I know. I want my brothers there when it happens, so they can keep'em calm if one of them flips their shit about it."
"Pete called us monsters."
"Yeah. Yeah, he did. I'm not holdin' it against'im though, he was just worried about his babies."
"I've been called a lot of things over the years, "monster" isn't even in the top ten of the worst of it." She said and his hands rubbed over her back. "The coven will need to be notified of the engagement, as well."
"How's Eugene gonna take it? He gonna be a problem for us?"
"Most likely, but he'll just have to get over it."
“How do you feel about gettin’ married in a church?” He asked and she hummed.
“As long as holy water isn’t directly involved, I’ll be fine.”
“You good with crucifixes?”
“Jesus Christ was not the first, nor was he the last person to be crucified by the Roman Empire. It was basically their execution method of choice as it was brutal, highly public, and sent a message. Crucifixion was nothing special. If I had a reaction to that, I might as well have a reaction to guillotines or nooses. Besides, there are Muslim vampires, Hindu vampires, Jewish vampires, Agnostic and Atheist vampires, and it would make absolutely no sense for them to have a negative biological reaction to a symbol of a faith that they don’t adhere to.” She explained and he thought it over for a moment before making a small sound.
“Makes sense when you put it like that.” He agreed, “Why does holy water burn you, though?”
“I have a feeling that it’s less because it’s “holy” and more due to the belief of the priest that blessed it. They believe that it’s purifying, so it is. Their belief doesn’t work on crucifixes, though, because as I said, crucifixion wasn’t special or unique. There aren’t naturally occurring bodies of holy water.”
“And the whole silver thing? Ma has a silver candlestick that gave me one hell of a burn that I had to hide.”
“Allergy or sensitivity to silver is something that exists in humans. Whatever makes us us gives us that allergy cranked up to eleven. It’s why before the advent of modern mirrors, we had to avoid them. Not because we didn’t have a reflection, but because it was physically painful to be around them, like we were standing too close to an open fire. Modern mirrors don’t contain silver, so we’re good with those.”
“But the sun doesn’t hurt you.”
“Why would it?” She asked, looking up at him and he paused before giving a shrug.
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loganbcrnes · 4 months
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this is definitely how Captain Syverson is built in my mind.
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gif: @asgardswinter
18+, fem!reader under the cut
thinking about Alpha!Sy post retirement, so hes gained a little more weight. he still has a load of muscle and he does work out still. But instead of constantly eating MRE's when he is deployed, he now eats your food. and your food is fuckin' delicious. Even if you are a bad cook, he'll gobble it down anyways and take seconds because he knows how much effort you put into cooking.
Ofc you dont cook all the time (unless u wanna be a housewife which is ok) he cooks with you as well. and living in the mountains where it is often cold, eating good warm food is commended.
Hes always wrapping his arms around you. whenever you're folding laundry, cooking food, showering. he has his hands on you at all times. the big gruff alpha is soooo clingy. and you absolutely love it. And he knows how much you love the size difference. He does too, and take every opportunity he can to take advantage of that.
You love how warm he is. The alpha is just a hot furnace. So whenever you are cold, he's always there to wrap around you keeping you warm. burying your face in his hairy soft chest.
Sometimes you like to run your hands down his chest, to feel the muscle clench under your cold hands. Trailing your fingers through his hairy pecs and down to his thick happy trail. And when i say this man is hairy...hes hairy.
to the spicy part...his body is so big, when hes fucking you from the back, he towers over you, on his elbows beside your face. The man fucks with his body, not just his cock. his thick cock thrusting in and out of your wet cunt, clenching around him. He groans into your ear. He drives you mad with his noises.
"thas' it, Darlin'. takin' my cock so well". I just imagine him saying in that sweet accent of his. GRRRR
Oh and when he fucks you missionary as well (his favourite position), he has your legs press against your chest, and over his shoulders. he's just fucking into you, his big heavy balls slapping against your cunt. His thick legs on display, the muscles bulging out as he keeps himself up.
His giant hands are just everywhere, keeping your legs up. Or his hand is pressed against your tummy to feel his cock inside, around your throat (not choking), in your hair if he is fucking from the behind. He cannot get enough of you. He often slows down to just pick up his speed again, making sure he gets his knot inside of you. filling you up to the brim with his cum.
His pubes grind against your clit, his massive thick body towering over you, making you feel small.
Feel free to follow my twitter acc if u want! aquasuperbat
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beyondthefold · 3 months
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HENRY CAVILL as CAPTAIN SYVERSON Sand Castle (2017) | dir. Fernando Coimbra
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littlefreya · 20 days
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Pictures of You
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Summary: While Sy is deployed, his new girlfriend sends him nudes, and now he must take care of 'business' himself while fantasizing about the things he would do to her.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x himself x OFC
Word count: 1,200
Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), pure smut, graphic depiction of sex (male x female), male masturbation, bodily fluids, accidental creampie, dirty language, punishment, Freya using "peach". Being caught in the act. A bit of fluff. Not beta'd.
*No permission is given for reposting my work, translating, copying it, or parts of it and claiming it as your own*
A/N: It's been a while since I posted. I am working on a series (plural), but I got inspired by a lovely anon today. I'm not sure if I'm tagging anyone since my tag list is probably outdated and I'm not sure who still wants on. So, if you enjoyed, reblog, or comment, let me know. I'd appreciate it. 🖤
Pictures of You
At last, night unfurled, and the camp became quiet. 
The glorified Captain retired to his quarters, exhausted from a day of training recruits and tedious paperwork. This deployment would be long, and though he loved being The Captain - Logan Syverson was beginning to miss home.
It was all because of her. Sy shouldn't have caught feelings, long-distance relationships were never his thing, but damn, she was something else; a woman way above his league, pretty, hot as hell and way too smart to be with a military grunt like him.
Needless to say, fucking her made him feel like a god. 
Stripping down to his boxer, Sy slumped into his bed with a huff and reached for the private cell phone stuffed in his drawer. 
Twenty unanswered messages appeared on the screen—three of them from her.
Joy painted his face at the sight of her name. Ignoring everything else, he went directly to read her messages.
“Missing my big Sy”, the first message read. 
The other - “something to make you think of me.”  
The last message was simply an attachment. Curious, Sy tapped it open.
‘Fucking hell.’
The unmistakable pang of desire instantly surged through his groin. 
There she was, his sweet woman, naked and spread open like a present unwrapped, especially for him. She was sitting on her bed, one breast gripped by her palm with her nipple peeking through dark-painted nails while her other hand toyed with the sweet peach between her thighs. 
“Fuck,” Sy muttered. Already rock-hard. Absentmindedly, his hand massaged the hefty bulge through the fabric of his boxers, eliciting a deep groan from under his breath. 
‘What are you doing to me, babygirl?” 
It wasn’t just her naked body and the way her finger teased her own slit, but the look she gave him, the familiar neediness in her gaze, the way she bit her lip. 
Damn, if she was here right now… He’d fucking punish her for teasing him so bad! He’d pin her to the wall with his hand around her throat and show her what happens to naughty girls who like playing such wicked games. 
Now he had three fucking months to go, and all he could think of was how bad he wanted to be inside her tight little cunt.
‘Well, guess I’ll have to take care of this myself…’
Springing his cock free from his boxers, he ran his rough fingers up and down the length of his imposing shaft - slow at first, as Sy enjoyed taking his time, just as he would with her. His thumb rolled across the crown of his cock, gently grazing the tip while he imagined flipping her against the pitted wall in this room. Make her take it from behind so he could look at that perfect rounded ass of hers and watch his cock slipping in and out of her body. 
Still holding the photo open, he focused on her succulent cunt before spitting onto his open palm and griping himself once again. Tighter this time, he squeezed onto his girth and began to fuck his own hand. 
Pants and groans sputtered from his mouth, his chest heaving as he gradually picked up the pace. In his fantasy, he parted her ass cheeks and teased her dripping little hole until she begged him to fuck him. Then he forced himself all the way in, making her cry out. 
The sounds of her moans echoed in his memory, so helpless and desperate at the same time - he was nearly too much for her; that narrow cavern of hers could barely take his leviathan cock, but still, she took every pounding, becoming wetter around his shaft as her body not only yielded to accommodate him but lured him deeper inside. 
“I want inside you, babygirl…” Sy mumbled out loud, his hand now moving in ecstatic fervour. Sweat dripped down the contracting muscles of his abs. Soon, he felt himself swell even larger, and his sack strained with the desperate need for release. 
He tightened his grip, now choking his shaft and thinking of how it felt when she came around him. How she contracted all around his cock and shattered like glass smashing on the floor.
“Don’t come inside….” She’d warned him. She wasn’t on the pill. But this time, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from filling her full of his cum, and maybe… he wouldn’t want to… 
It was his fantasy, after all. 
“FUCK!!!” 
With the image spilling inside her, he allowed himself to be swept by the fierce waves of pleasure, his entire body buzzing with bliss as hot, thick ribbons of ecstasy spilt over his fingers. He might have shouted too loudly, but it’s not like he ever gave a fuck. 
It took Sy a few good minutes to climb down to earth, and then he chuckled hoarsely as he noticed the mess he had left on his hand. Shaking his head, he reached for a towel and wiped himself clean before returning to gaze at her photo. 
“What am I gonna do with you, doll?”
Well, there was an idea. He could repay the favour by sending her a photo of himself. Usually, he was against this type of stuff, but what she did was particularly risky for a woman, and if she was bold enough to treat him, he could do the same. Besides, they had three months until they could meet again. He better make sure she remembered who she belonged to.  
He stroked himself lightly. Still semi-hard, he wondered whether he could work himself to another erection this soon when a knock sounded at the door.
“Mother of f…. One moment !!!” 
Sy yelled. Irritated, he briefly tucked his shaft back in his boxers and jumped out of bed. The room smelled rancid, but Sy couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t even bring himself to put on a shirt as he rushed to the door.
“What?” He grunted before getting to see who was on the other side.
‘Well, fuck me sideways.’
It was a woman because why the hell not? Private Hicks, to be precise. The young thing’s eyes flared with surprise and then snapped to the floor to avoid staring at her sweaty, half-naked superior, but not before catching a glance of his hairy, tattooed chest and the semi-erected bulge in his groin.
The strong scent of sweat and sex hit her nostrils like a smack in the face. It took everything not to curl her face. There was no need to put two and two together to realise what she had just intruded. 
“Sir.” Hicks saluted in badly hidden embarrassment. 
Sy let out a deep sigh. Clearly, she knew what he was doing before she arrived. She probably heard him come all over himself right before knocking. Frankly, he wasn’t ashamed. 
“Get on with it, Private.”
“Sir,” she repeated, her voice a slight tremble. “ I’m sorry to bother you… but the Major asked me to get you.” 
Sy scratched the back of his head and groaned deeply. “Tell him I’ll be there in 10.” 
Without any other comment, he shut the door, leaving Hicks to wander back to the Major’s office, all shaken and quaking. 
As she walked away, she couldn’t help but bite her lips. All across her body, she felt those little electric streams of excitement, and her breath suddenly became shallow. She shouldn’t have thought of her superior like this, on what he did behind that closed door just a moment before she arrived, but Captain Syverson was too hot to handle and, needless to say, too loud. 
Well, she’d have to take care of herself later…
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henrycavilledits · 7 months
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HENRY CAVILL as Cpt. Syverson in Sand Castle (2017)
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Follow You Anywhere 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: I couldn't help myself.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."
You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.
You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."
You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.
"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."
You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.
"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.
You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.
"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."
You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.
You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.
“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 
You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.
You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…
“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.
You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.
A message?
You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.
‘Looked delicious too.’
“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”
‘Don't mean the toast.’
The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.
“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”
You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.
“How about some tunes?” 
You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.
‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?
“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”
You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.
You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.
You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.
“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”
You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.
🧸
You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.
The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.
The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.
You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.
You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.
As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.
You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.
🧸
You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.
You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.
You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.
You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.
A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.
'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.
You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.
'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.
You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.
🧸
You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.
The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.
"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.
As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.
You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.
You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.
"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."
All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.
You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.
As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.
"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.
You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.
"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."
You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?
"You like sweet stuff."
"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.
He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.
You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.
"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.
"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."
You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.
"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.
"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.
"I could drive you. I have a truck."
"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.
"Why not?"
"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"
"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."
"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"
"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."
"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."
"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 
“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."
"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."
"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.
"That's nice but--"
"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."
You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.
"BourbonBear?" You ask.
"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”
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f10werfae · 8 months
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Pretty Girl
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pairing: Dad!sy x Pregnant!Mom!Reader
summary: Baby Ellie has her daddy wrapped round her little finger, but so does her momma. After-all they’re his pretty girl (smut)
Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+
Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist
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“Hey pretty, c’mere and give me a kiss” Sy cooed nuzzling into his wife’s side on their bench swing in the backyard, his hands rubbing over her exposed bump which was housing their second baby. “mhm okay” She gave in ultimately giving him a soft wet kiss, having to push him away for a breath. “D-da d-da” Both their heads turning to face their 1 year old babygirl, who was settled on her play mat out in the shade.
Aika rested her head on her paws whilst on the play mat, letting baby Ellie rest her body against hers, ultimately using Aika as her backrest. The Syverson family was spending this nice summers day out on the porch, with Ellie clad in only a diaper just to keep her cool. “Yes my gorgeous girl, ya enjoyin’ bein’ out here with your momma and dada?” Sy cooed slipping off the bench and onto the mat a few feet away, Ellie was holding up her own bottle as she drank away, her other hand reaching up for Sy’s hand.
Ever since Ellie had seen the effect of the word ‘da’ on her daddy, she’s been using it ever since as a sign of a beck and call. “Da, da da” The soft curled bundle of joy tottered away from Aika’s body and wobbled her way onto her daddy’s lap. “Aren’t ya jus’ precious sweetpea, you n your mama n’ baby brother” Sy growled peppering kisses all over Ellie’s face until she started giggling and had to push his face away.
“Sy stop it and give her a chance” Y/n giggled watching, knowing damn well her babygirl loved giving out kisses too, Ellie’s lips already pouting out to land kisses on her daddy’s beard covered cheek. “mwah da” Ellie babbled happily, her curls bouncing with her, her hands on his shoulders to stabilise her standing up. “Wow babygirl, best kiss av ever gotten” Sy gasped hugging her tiny body to his immediately, carrying her onto his lap again.
“Da-da baba?” Ellie pulled away looking up with her innocent doe eyes, picking up her empty bottle up to her daddy, another small pout playing on her lips. “N' here I thought you wanted to cuddle with dada” Sy playfully scoffed settling Ellie down by Y/n, their babygirl wasting no time in cuddling on her mama’s lap, her head resting on her chest, her tiny hands feeling the baby’s kicks; her eyes twinkling watching Sy walk inside with her precious baba.
“got daddy wrapped round your lil finger baby” Y/n smiled nuzzling her head against her baby’s, pressing a big kiss on her cheek as she rocked her gently. “One baba per request” Sy said rocking back into the backyard, shaking the small lukewarm pink bottle in his hand, testing the temperature on his wrist before he handed it back to his little precious petal. “mm baba dada” She said handing it back to him.
Sy smiled picking up the tiny tot and sitting down beside his wife with Ellie laying across his lap as if she was a newborn again. His hands steadily holding the baby bottle to her lips as she suckled softly, her naturally wide eyes peering around the garden at all the different birds before settling on the baby blues of her dad. One of her hands reaching behind her for her momma and the other holding onto Sy’s hand that was holding the bottle.
“Think she’ll go down for a nap soon?” He smirked looking up to his wife, that same playful lustful loon in his eyes whenever his eye caught hers, his head leaning down to kiss and nuzzle against the side of her face like a possessive bear cub. “Oh yeah she’s your daughter Sy honey, fill her belly and she’ll be knocked out soon enough” Y/n swooned, leaning her body towards him as her hand patted down his soft stomach and body.
“See look her pretty lil eyes are already closing, must be the cool breeze helpin cool her down too” Checking her nappy was still clean, after about 15 minutes Y/n had burped and lulled her babygirl to sleep, ultimately leading her to put her down in her crib. Turning on the baby monitor and adjusting the room temperature, Y/n left the room slightly ajar as Sy and her retreated to hanging out in their shared bedroom.
“I ever tell ya how pretty you are? Especially when you’re full n’ round cus a’ me” Sy poses on the bed like a girl, his feet swinging in the air as he lay on his stomach, his hands cupping his face whilst he just stared at his wife. “Yes loverboy, you tell me at least every hour”
“That can’t be right, i’ll make sure to say it every minute then” He joked rolling onto his back, guiding her to sit on his lap, his hands immediately clasping around her body to cage her closer to him. “But seriously you are just gorgeous, jus’ how do you get even more beautiful the more life goes on” Y/n soon found herself feeling hot and bothered the more compliments and kisses she received, not to mention the subtle ass squeezes Sy had managed to squeeze in between his monologues.
“Stop it Sy please” She whined carefully tracing his brow with her thumb, trying to distract herself from looking into his eyes which were desperately trying to catch hers. “What can’t I pay my pretty mama compliments? I’m havin’ to stop myself ‘ere” Growling lightly he slightly jerked his hips up, letting her feel his hardened cock through his grey sweatpants, his torso bare. “Fuck Sy”
“I know baby m’sorry, I can’ help it, anytime I see you, smell you or hear you, the little guy gets excited n’ needs ya” Rubbing up her back soothingly under his shirt she was wearing, he felt her slowly start to shift herself back and forth on his lap, her wetness starting to leak through her thin cotton panties to create a darker stain on his pants. “Oh baby what are ya doin?”
“I need somethin Sy, seein’ ya be such a good daddy to Ellie and how you’re just so fuckin’ sexy it actually kills me” She suddenly broke out into a curse, seeing Sy basically move around the house was like porn for her, seeing him tend to the laundry and housework? She was about to bend him over if she could. Seeing him try his absolute best to lighten her load, even taking his babygirl Ellie out on his walks just so she could have some peace and quiet.
“You gonna use me baby? Get what you need momma, so fuckin’ pretty like this, my perfect angel, got my cock all swollen jus by bein you” He pushed back some of her hair away from her face, her expression furrowed as she quickened her pace knowing it wouldn’t be long before Ellie woke up again. “Y-you make me feel so good” Moving her underwear to the side she let her bare sensitive pussy rub against the fabric of his sweatpants, the head of his cock peeking out of the band as per her request.
“Hold on pretty-“ He gasped pulling down his sweatpants to his thighs, letting them feel each other’s skin as they humped against each other lovingly. Her swollen lips parted to hug around his shaft, covering his length in her slick wet juices, the lewd sounds filling the bedroom along with her whines and whimpers; the both of them being careful to not be so loud. “So soft” He would whisper out as his thumb caressed her sensitive nerve, watching her face contort whilst he stimulated her clit.
“You gonna cum for me pretty girl? Can feel it, come on baby I want it so bad” He whispered against her neck, his lips inching upwards until they reached hers. His tongue slipping into her mouth engaging it in a wet spit filled kiss, keeping her quiet. “M-m gonna come Sy” She whispered urgently feeling that band in her stomach grow tighter, with it eventually snapping once one of Sy’s paws wandered up to tug and rub at her hardened nipples. “Aww baby you did so good, m’ so prouda you pretty, makin’ yourself feel good on your man’s lap” He cooed in between grunts as he tugged at his hardened shaft to squirt ropes of cum onto her pussy.
“You proud of me” Y/n smiled hazily leaning back, massaging his cum into her pussy, her eyes peering at him as he brought her back in for a sloppy make-out session, leaving both their chins shiny with spit. “Fuckin’ best thing ta ever happen to me”
(this fic is not proofread)
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PSA: Haven’t updated in so long but i’ve honestly just been enjoying my summer🫶Hope you enjoy this Dad!sy fic
library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection
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slut-for-henry-cavill · 3 months
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Are my tumblr girlies breathing okay after seeing Hen in The ministry of ungentlemanly warfare trailer!?
Surely we weren't expecting that😭😂
Ps- Yes I too got light headed each time he stuck his tongue out. He's fucking wild in this and I'm here for it
Ps Ps- is it just me or that character seems like mix of Captain Syverson and Napolean Solo lol!?
CANT WAIT FOR TUMBLR TO GO WILD WITH THIS MAN'S FICS!!!!
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@shellyshellshell @littlefreya @augustsprincess @mayloma
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gummydummy19 · 3 months
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The bear and his honey
Summary: How grumpy Sy won your heart and you won his :))
Content Warnings: Fluff, sunshine x grumpy trope, smut (oral, fingering, piv, creampie, pet names, praise, hint of a size kink)
A/N: Look at that! I wrote another Sy fic! @omgkatinka sent me this: After that fic today I kept thinking about first dates with Sy. And how either epic or awful it would be if your first date was getting stuff from ikea and assembling the stuff together. I feel like that would either forge an unbreakable alliance or doom the connecton right away. But I really like the idea. and I LOVED IT so I included that in here as well :)) It's not their first date but I hope you still like it <3
Word Count: 4k+ (holy shit)
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Like a little girl seeing a big teddy bear at the fair, you were sold when you first met Sy. There was something immediately comforting about him. He was quiet and a little grumpy, but he always treated you with respect. A real Southern gentleman, as they say.
It took a long time before he asked you out. You kept running into him at get-togethers, always being drawn to him from the second you walked in.
In the beginning, you worried you were coming on too strong, always sticking to his side, asking him questions, flirting with him...
One night your entire friend group got together again for a cookout and drinks around the fire. Everyone was perfectly tipsy and content, and when the conversation started taking a more juvenile turn, you heard something that made your cheeks feel warm.
"Oh come on, everyone knows Sy's got it bad for you!", Cory boomed, swinging around his beer.
"Shut up, Cory", you hushed him, dismissing it quickly. You tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered at the idea of Sy being into you, but when you saw him blushing, (yes, blushing) on the other side of the fire you felt your heart swell.
After that night, you started getting more confident. You loved teasing him, always poking the bear. You tried to get a rise out of him every chance you got, knowing he had a soft spot for you.
Admittedly, you were having a fun time pushing his buttons, but after almost two weeks of flirty comments and hanging under his arm whenever you could, he still hadn't asked you out.
So after another night of teasing, flirting, a couple of debatably too-strong martinis, and what Cory called "canoodling" you finally hit your breaking point.
"Are you planning on asking me out? Like ever?", you blurted out.
Okay, those martinis were definitely too strong.
"Ya want me to?"
Is he joking?
He chuckled and you realised you said that last bit out loud.
That Friday he showed up on your doorstep at exactly 6pm, on the dot, and handed you a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.
You could tell he really made an effort. He was wearing a button-up shirt and what looked like a fresh, new pair of jeans.
"Oh Sy, these are beautiful!", you squealed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his fuzzy cheek, 'Let me go put them in water, and then we'll be on our way!'
He didn't say much, he just grumbled as you skipped about your apartment in your pretty little dress, like you didn't know exactly what you were doing to him.
He took you to the most expensive restaurant in town, where he briefly told you about his job and his family before casually shifting the conversation back to you.
You let your foot wander up his leg while you innocently told him about yourself, loving the way he startled when the waiter showed up.
Afterward, he walked you home and gave you a kiss on your cheek, just as innocent as the one you had given him before. You were a little disappointed when he didn't come in, but you decided to deem his chivalry as charming.
A week and a half later, he took you to the drive-in for your second date. They showed some old James Bond movie, the perfect combination of action and steamy romance as you cuddled closer to him in his truck.
During a particularly spicy scene, you let your hand wander up his thigh, but before you got to his crotch, he stopped you.
You looked up at him with a frown, but to your surprise, his eyes were still glued to the screen.
You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thinking maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he just wanted to be friends? Maybe that's why he didn't kiss you last time? Why he didn't wanna come upstairs with you...
The nasty thoughts kept pouring in and you felt yourself spiral down. You shuffled away from Sy's embrace, gently moving to sit as far away from him as possible, half debating just getting out of the car completely.
'What's wrong?' Sy asked as he looked at you, sitting against the door of his truck.
"If you don't want me you can just say that Sy," you said bitterly, staring out the window.
When you heard him chuckle, you angrily snapped your head back to see if you were actually hearing it correctly.
"Oh, you think that's funny?" you spat.
You tried to open the door. You wanted to leave. To get as far away from him as possible, but the door was locked, and before you could protest, he wrapped his big arm around your waist and swiftly pulled you back against him.
You had no time to wriggle yourself out of his grip, because he moved his bearded face down to your ear and whispered, "You can't always get what you want, sugar."
You didn't know what to say. His actions had already confused you and now his words confused you even more.
He grinned at your puzzled look, grabbing your chin in his large paw.
"What do you want?" he asked calmly, looking straight into your eyes.
"You."
"You have me," he stated, making butterflies erupt in your stomach
"Doesn't fucking feel like it." you dared, keeping your voice low and your eyes away from his.
"Bratty little thing, aint ya?," he grinned, secretly a little proud at your ballsiness, tho he'd never admit it.
His grasp on your jaw tightened, making your eyes snap back at his.
"If you want something, you gotta ask nicely, sugar." he drawled, leaning in a bit closer, "Now, what do you want from me."
Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your eyes darted from his gorgeous eyes down to his plush lips and back before you spoke, "A kiss, please."
A cheesy grin spread over his face and he loosened his grip on your jaw, moving his hand to cup the side of your face, gentle but firm.
He leaned in, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke, "Such a polite girl," before finally attaching his lips to yours.
That night you realized Sy wasn't as soft as you thought he was, in fact, he had quite the mean streak...
Another week of sweet texts and teasing phone calls later, you knew you were in deep.
Your third date wasn't even supposed to be a date. He took you for a walk in the park. You started holding his hand about halfway through the walk, with little intention of ever letting go.
It was meant to be a short stroll, just to get some air, but soon the sun started setting and your stomach started rumbling.
'Ya hungry? I know a good place nearby', he stated, pulling you closer against his side.
'Sy...I'm really not dressed for anything fancy...', you replied, knowing Sy's definition of 'a good place' when it came to you.
'Don't you worry sugar, you're dressed just fine', he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
20 minutes later you were standing at a food truck, being introduced as 'his girl' to one of his old army buddies wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron.
While you munched on your greasy food, Sy told you the truck had been there since last summer, after their last tour. He was there every week.
It wasn't hard to notice the way Sy shifted when he talked about his work. You didn't push or pry, you just listened, letting your thumb trace over his hand as he opened up to you. Funny, how this thing with a man you had only kissed once already felt like the most intimate relationship you'd ever been involved in.
Two weeks after your first kiss, you got Sy to join you for a trip to Ikea. You needed a new bookshelf and your car was too small to fit it, so you convinced Sy to bring his truck. Getting to stroll around with him through the hallways with your hands linked was simply a bonus.
When you first walked in, you could tell Sy was a little uncomfortable. This wasn't exactly his area, fluffy rugs, decorative pillows,...he felt so out of place. But seeing you with a big smile on your face, dragging him around to show him which wineglasses you liked, made it worth it.
You made him feel at ease, but nervous at the same time. The whole thing felt so domestic, so innocent. So, why was the only thought on his mind pushing you onto one of those beds and fucking you six ways from Sunday?
Aside from that kiss in the car and a couple steamy messages, not much had happened between the two of you. It's not like you didn't want to, you just wanted to take it slow and Sy was trying to be a tease gentleman.
By the time you got to the storage place, he was a lot more relaxed. Maybe it was the fact that there were no more soft blankets or colorful couches. This part of the building was definitely more his vibe. Though, being able to show off his strength when it was time to carry the boxes may also have something to do with it...
You were almost at checkout, Sy was pushing the cart, half his view was blocked and he was trying not to crash into anything when he heard you squeal loudly.
"OH MY GOD!"
"What? What happened?" He peaked past the mountain of cardboard. He was worried something might have happened, but when he saw what you were holding, he grinned in confusion.
"He looks just like you!" you exclaimed happily, holding a big, stuffed bear with dark brown fur. "I'm taking him home with me."
Sy tried to keep a stern look but failed miserably, chuckling while he pulled you into him.
"What, am I not enough for you anymore? Should I be worried?", he joked.
"Don't you worry, baby. You will always be my big bear. The little one is just for when you're not around", you explained.
"Well if I'm your bear, you're my honey", he mumbled, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. God, he always smelled so fucking good... "Oh! I can spray some of your cologne on him!"
You kept babbling happily as you dragged Sy to the checkout. He didn't even know how long he had been smiling, but somehow he just couldn't stop. Fuck, what are you doing to him?
45 minutes later it was your turn to try and suppress your laugh. You were sitting on your couch, sipping a glass of white wine, and watching your man try and prove just how manly he is.
"Sy, honey, I really think if you just looked at the instructions..."
"I don't need no damn instructions, it's a fucking bookshelf", he grumbled.
"Alright, suit yourself...", you sighed, turning the page of your magazine.
Barely a second later you got startled by a loud bang and a string of curses. You looked up to see the damage and were met with a fuming Sy clutching his thumb.
"Not a word", he said.
"M'not saying anything!", you chuckled.
Another ten minutes passed in silence, aside from the occasional grumble coming from the bulky man you were rapidly falling in love with.
You finally dropped down the magazine next to you and put down your wine.
"Would you just let me help?", you asked, standing in front of him.
"I don't need-"
"Yes, you fucking do! Stop being so damn stubborn, Sy! It's not a sin to look at the manual! It's what it's fucking there for!", you finally snapped.
Sy looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He straightened himself, towering over you.
"You don't scare me, big guy", you dared, crossing your arms.
He raised his brow, tilting back his head a tiny bit as he peered down at you.
"Alright", his voice was calm and collected. A beat of silence passed and the tension could be cut with a knife.
You were starting to get a little confused, not entirely sure what the vibe was anymore but then, without an ounce of effort, Sy picked you up and swung you over his beefy shoulder.
"Sy! What the hell are you doing? Logan??"
A squeal left your throat when you were dropped down on your mattress. You barely had any time to process what was happening before Sy was on top of you, pinning your arms above your head as his body covered yours.
"You and that damn mouth of yours", he groaned, "always running ain't it? See what happens when you poke a bear?"
"He finally wants to taste his honey?" you spoke softly.
"Oh, honey, you have no idea", he said before he captured your lips with his.
You tried to wriggle your hands free to touch him, but he wouldn't budge, chuckling into your mouth as he felt you struggle.
"What have I told you about asking for what you want, hmm?"
"Sy, please...", you started begging.
'Please what? Use your words"
"C'mon....just lemme touch you, Sy, s'not funny anymore...", you whined, desperately trying to get closer to him, but you were no match for his strength.
Admittedly, feeling how much bigger and stronger than you he was made you drip right through your panties, but that didn't mean you weren't still desperate to get your hands on him.
Sy finally took pity on you and released your wrists. Your hands immediately clawed at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer as you pulled him in for another breathtaking kiss. One of his big hands semi-gently held your cheek while the other pawed at your body, wherever he could.
It didn't take long before clothes went flying, both yours and his. The sound of his belt unbuckling ran in your ears as your blood pumped faster.
"Fuck, I want you so bad...", you mumbled under your breath, your eyes raking over his furry chest before landing on the tent in his boxers.
"I want you too, baby, so so bad". Blood rushed to your face at the realization that he had heard you. He still had a grin on his face, but this time it was different. Less mean, more dopey.
"Wanna taste you...", he mumbled as he pressed kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.
"Fuck, Sy..."
The first lick between your sticky folds already had him moaning into your pussy. "Sweetest honey I've ever fucking tasted...", he groaned before burying his face back in between your legs.
He ate you out with vigor, swiping his tongue around your clit just enough to drive you crazy before dipping it down to lick long stripes up and down your slit. With all the pent-up tension (and Sy's insane cunnilingus skills), it didn't take long at all before you felt that familiar heat pool down in your belly.
You arched your back off the bed, one hand digging into Sy's scalp as the other frantically grabbed at your pillow.
"Oh fuck, fuck...", you moaned as you felt yourself starting to creep closer to the edge. Sy focussed his full attention solely on your clit now, sucking and nibbling on it while he pressed two of his thick fingers inside you. He curled them up, finding your spot almost immediately and you screamed.
"AH shit! Please please please, don't stop...m'gonna cum!”, you babbled with an unsteady voice.
Usually you don't like to tell your partner when you're about to cum, because for some reason they always seemed to take that as a sign to start doing completely different shit, but you trusted Sy. He clearly knew what he was doing, and to your delight, he kept doing it exactly like that until your thighs were trembling on his shoulders.
You felt the waves of your orgasm roll through your body, your hips mimicking the movement as you bucked against his face. He didn't seem to mind one bit.
He kept his fingers inside you, perfectly stimulating the spongy spot they were nestled against while his lips nursed on your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm.
Your entire body felt like it was on fire as you waited for Sy to stop, so you could finally breathe again. But to your surprise, the big beast between your legs didn't even show signs of slowing down.
"S-Sy...fuck fuck stop...stop stop stop...", you tried to squirm away from the sensitive feeling, but he kept you firmly in his grip.
"fuck..shit..sensitive...too sensitive..Sy, FUCK!" you moaned when the pain suddenly turned into overwhelming pleasure. The only thing you could do was scream for him. With every knock of his fingers against your spot you felt a pressure build, and when his strong arm pressed down harder on your belly, you swore your vision went white.
You wailed as you came again in a manner that could only be described as violent. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you felt yourself gush all over Sy's mouth and fingers. Your brain was too fuzzy to be embarrassed about it. He helped you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he finally let up.
"Fucking hell...", he spoke up first. Your eyes blinked open and you sat up a bit to look at him. You were still finding the right words, trying to piece your brain back together, and then you saw it. The drops in Sy's beard, the wet spot on the mattress...oh my god...no no no no no.
It was as if Sy could read your mind, either that or the horrified look on your face was more obvious than you thought it was.
"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life", he stated.
"Really?"
"Absolutely", he promised.
You looked at the twinkle in his eyes and you knew he wasn't lying. God damn, where has this man been all your life. Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him forward by the neck and smashed your lips against his, not caring one bit about the wetness of his beard.
He groaned when you pushed him back on the bed. "My turn", you grinned as you straddled him. You gave him one last peck before peppering kisses on his neck and across his chest.
"Fuck, honey...", he mumbled, gently moving your hair out of your face and keeping a gentle hold of it.
You finally shimmied down his boxers. His cock sprung free. Hard, throbbing, and all yours. You grabbed him by the base and pressed a few teasing kisses along the length of him before licking up a stripe and finally taking the head in your mouth.
A low rumble could be heard deep in his chest as you took him deeper, determined to fit him entirely. To your disappointment, you started gagging when he was barely halfway. You wanted to try again, but Sy gently tugged on your hair. "Not necessary, sweetheart"
"But I wanna make you feel good", you pouted.
"You are, feels so good princess, doesn't have to be all the way to feel good", he reassured you.
You took him in your mouth again and gently bobbed your head up and down, glancing up at him to see his eyes droop. You would have kept going for hours if it meant getting to see him like this. Sadly, he pulled you off his dick way too soon for your liking.
"Wha-but you haven't cum yet!", you whined.
"That's 'cause I'm gonna cum in this pretty pussy.", he stated before flipping you over, leaving him on top of you once again.
"Been wanting to fuck you for so long, you know that? Always skipping around in those damn skirts, teasing me...", he kissed you before you could reply. His rough hands traced about your body, squeezing and kneading at your flesh wherever he could.
You let your knees fall open next to his thighs, opening up for him. When the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You okay, baby?" he asked when he noticed your sudden nervousness.
"Yeah..."
"That doesn't sound very convincing", Sy spoke, sitting up a little. "We don't have to go any further, you know that right? I'm perfectly content just arguing with you over a bookshelf", he grinned and you felt yourself relax.
You gave him a sweet smile and tugged him down for a kiss. The kiss was slow and meaningful, different than before. When he pulled back, Sy's eyes found yours, "What's going on, hmm?" he asked, his tone calm and caring.
"Just been a while...", you stated shyly.
"Been a while for me too, honey, a long while", he admitted.
"How long?", you asked curiously, making him chuckle. "Seven months.", he replied, "and I can wait another seven if you want me to." It was your turn to chuckle, "Luckily, I don't want you to", you kissed him again.
"Since Cory's pool party...", you mumbled against his lips.
"Hmm?"
"Cory's pool party, when I first met you. Don't know how long ago that was exactly, but that's how long it's been for me".
Sy stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't read his expression, but after a few beats, his eyes softened. He leaned in closely, his cock still stiff between your legs.
"Seven months", he whispered, "that's how long that's been."
His words and what they meant hung in the air for a couple seconds and you couldn't figure out what to say, so you settled for, "Fuck me, Sy. Please?"
He grinned and reached in between your trembling bodies to grab his cock, pushing it between your folds. "I'll go slow, sweetheart. Trust me. If I don't, this s'gonna be over real soon".
He slid inside with ease, the stretch was there but bearable. His head dropped to your shoulder when he was fully in, hot breath and scruffy beard tickling your neck. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to urge him deeper somehow.
After what seemed like a century (not that you were complaining), he dragged his hips back, sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in. He repeated his movement a couple times. Your whines turned into moans, getting louder as his thrusts got rougher.
"Fucking hell...best pussy I've ever had", he groaned, pumping into you at a faster pace. He hiked up one of your legs higher over his hip, making him hit inside you deeper while grinding on your still-sensitive clit.
You moaned loudly. Your nails scratched over his biceps and he groaned in your ear. Neither of you was gonna last long and you both knew it.
"Mine", he growled and you almost came on the spot.
"Yours, Sy! Only yours!", you kept babbling while he absolutely destroyed your body, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!"
"Cum for me, baby, fuck..."
Your final orgasm of the night consumed you. "Cumming! I'm cumming...fuck please cum inside me Sy, OH!", you moaned so loud you were sure the neighbors heard you, but you didn't care. Sy grabbed your hips roughly as he chased his own release, following suit before yours was even over.
He looked godly. His hairy chest was all sweaty, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut...you swore you got another tiny orgasm just looking at him and feeling his cock throb inside you.
"Shit...", he groaned breathlessly, "I swear I usually last longer...", he started but you stopped him right away. "Sy, you made me cum three times in the last 45 minutes. I don't think I would have survived any longer."
He chuckled as he fell on top of you, squishing you in the process. You hummed happily, stroking his back while his cock was still buried deep inside you. You could barely breathe but you didn't care, if this was how you met your end, it seemed like a good way to go.
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syversonswife · 4 months
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Big Sy 🥵
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martha-oi · 5 months
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ramp-it-up · 13 days
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II Most Wanted Pt.I: And I don't know what you're doin' tonight…
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Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"
Summary: The feeling and flashbacks you get when you saw your high school boyfriend Jake Syverson at your 20 year reunion was quite the unexpected twist in your orderly life.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, body image issues, flashbacks, horny teenagers doing horny things (over 18 tho) heavy petting, fingering, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of breakups, teenage mean girl behavior, the Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, mentions of drug abuse and difficult childhoods, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Explicit description of sex acts. Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N: This is the first installment of II Most Wanted. This is also my first fic in nearly half a year. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-------
June 2024
The visceral reactions started as soon as you entered the parking lot. There it was, Sy’s 1978 white Ford Bronco. Not thinking, you pulled into the space right in front of it, wanting to look inside. You almost lost it when you saw the old charm hanging from the rear view mirror. You couldn’t believe he still had that.
Especially with everything that happened since you put it there.
April 2004
“I claim this ancient truck as my throne!”
You were lit and in love, parked with Sy at the lookout. You were also silly and giggly from smoke and hormones.
“Mmmmm, careful Buttercup.” 
Your boyfriend growled in your ear, making you shiver against him. His attempt at menace was thwarted by the smile you felt against your neck, where he was busy marking you up, a sure sign later for everyone to know who you belonged to.
Sy was known for making bloody the face of those who expressed hate for his beloved Betty Bronco. But you had him whipped.
“It’s a classic, but I’ll let that slide...” 
He wished that you would let him slide, but you were adamant that you weren’t ready to be a parent. He was adamant that that didn’t have to be the outcome, but beneath the red blooded country boy was a gentleman. Sy would never do anything you didn’t want to, not that it stopped him from trying to convince you to admit that you in fact, wanted it as much as he did.
He wasn’t wrong.
You sighed as you placed the Powerpuff Girl necklace you got from Hot Topic on Sy’s rearview as you sat on his lap, giving him a treat. He had you in his grip by the hips and he was subtly moving you against his boner. The attraction between you two was heady, and he almost got what he wanted plenty of times. But you were a romantic and wanted it to be special. You promised him prom night, and Sy couldn’t wait.
“..Driving me crazy, Baby. You can put anything on my rear view as long as you let me get your rear view in the back seat….”
You giggled.
“You’re so corny, Sy.”
You whispered as you turned your head and kissed him over your shoulder. 
“Hmmmm. And you’re so sweet.”
Sy’s sea blue eyes gazed at you as he licked his lips.
He was crazy for you. And you were for him. You felt it. And you just knew you’d be together forever. You grinned as you climbed over him into the back seat. Didn’t hurt to fool around a little, even if you weren’t gonna give him the p that night.
——————
You shook out of the memory as a warm June breeze whipped your short skirt around your thighs. You pulled on the yellow and white designer dress as you contemplated driving back to your hotel and changing. This dress was not a good idea. The triumphant feeling of serving looks when you appraised yourself in the mirror was replaced with anxiety. The dress was too short and you were not the same size you were in high school. Thighs you considered pretty and thick in the mirror just an hour ago seemed massive and you tugged at the deep plunge of the neckline without a bra.
You sighed as you tried to center yourself. You told yourself that you were growing out of negative self talk, especially in the last seven years since your divorce. You were reminded of your promise to never care about the, male gaze again. It just wasn’t worth it.
But you hadn’t been under Jacob Syverson’s gaze in 20 years.
——
Sy posted up at the bar, blue eyes taking in the scene of his former classmates reuniting. He downed his two fingers of Maker’s Mark and asked for another. His heart rate was up as he scanned the room, eyes going back to the door again and again. He was waiting for you. No use in denying it to himself. He wanted to see you again, and more. It was his one objective. An objective he was unsure of attaining.
He was more nervous about being in a hotel ballroom tonight than in Afghanistan. 
Christ, he felt like that 17 year old kid again who first laid eyes on you.
——-
August, 2003
Sy knew what he wanted the moment he saw your face. 
You stopped the world when you first stepped into his British Literature class the first day of senior year. He was seated and talking with his best friend and wide receiver, Jeremy Atkins, when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He let the conversation about which route they should run at the scrimmage that afternoon slip as his eyes lighted on your face. You were anxious, but trying not to let it show. Those eyes held fire, and your lips…
…well your lips besides being everything he dreamt of, he just knew the words that came out of your lips would light someone up as well. He could tell you had spirit by the way you carried yourself.
Your hair was wild and shoulder length, bangs swept aside for vision, and you couldn’t hide that body under your baggy clothes. He lasered in on the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your graphic tee, and power that  the strip of skin between your shirt and your baggy jeans was not lost on him. He was a 17 year old male, after all.
Sy shifted in his seat as he leaned back and grinned to himself when you scanned the room, glaring at anyone who looked askance. He tapped his pencil on the desk to try to get your attention but you just ignored him as the group of seatless students surrounding you dwindled. You were left alone under the scrutiny of soulless cretins, otherwise known as teenagers. 
You gave each one brazen enough to stare at you a side eye, but you stopped when you finally noticed Sy smirking at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, causing him to choke on a chuckle.
Becca Ferguson, Sy’s girlfriend, kicked him in the leg after noticing that not only Sy, but Jeremy were openly staring at you. Shit, he’d forgotten about her. He caught the way her eyes cut over to you, and he knew what came next. He tried to distract her with a flip of the shelf of his blown out curls and a smile, something that had worked many times before. 
But you were a threat to Becca now; she had to do something about you.
You raised your head high as you walked to the seat that Mrs.Beatty pointed out. You passed down the aisle between Sy and Becca, who scrunched up her face as if she smelled something bad. Sy got a whiff of you and you smelled divine, like that Sweet Pea bath gel stuff that he played off sniffing when he went to the mall with Becca. 
His head turned.
Becca glared at him and he turned toward the front of the room, where the teacher had started to pass out the syllabus. 
—--
June 2024
Just like lunch on the first day of school at Central High all those years ago, Carla and Tiffani engulfed you and took you under their wings when you walked into the Marriott, the venue for your reunion. They crowed over you; your hair, your dress, your glow. You forgot any anxiety that you were feeling about how you looked. These were your best friends. Your Bubbles and Blossom.
These women filled the gaping place in your heart torn open from attending 10 different schools from K-12, following your mother’s loves and whims when she didn’t take her meds, or when she self-medicated. They were your soul sisters. And you still kept in touch even though distance separated you.
Carla had that grin on her face while Tiffani expressed her excitement that you were in town.
“Girl! I am so glad that you made it!” 
Tiffani was the gentle one.
“Yeah, I owe Tiff a c-note, because I was sure you’d chicken out.”
Carla laughed at you while you scowled at her.
Tiffani tskd at her bestie, and took your arm while Carla took the other and they ushered you through the doors of the ballroom.
“Well, she has a new job in town and everything, she had to come.”
“Yeah, she had to come to town, but coming tonight is a wholeeee different story.”
You laughed.
“I don’t have the job yet, Tiff. Interview is Monday. And why wouldn’t I come tonight?”
The familiar banter was back, as if 20 years was no matter at all between you and your girls.
You heard someone clear their throat behind you and Carla peered over her shoulder and then smirked at you. She jerked her head back.
“Because of that.”
You looked over your shoulder, smiling right before your stomach dropped.
There was Jake Syverson, all grown up, and staring at you as if all this time hadn’t happened.
—-
Sy saw you enter the ballroom and he almost wanted to run away. Being in country on a dangerous mission was nothing compared to the thought of actually facing you again.
At least he was trained for war. 
Love was another thing entirely.
He took a deep breath as he focused on you. You had always been beautiful, but now, as a grown woman, you were absolutely gorgeous. Your hair was sleek and your face was perfectly beat with makeup that accentuated your natural beauty. You were glowing and that smile was…everything.
As he leaned on the bar and scanned the rest of your body in that dress, he took another drink. Sy indeed felt 18 again, because his body was reacting as if he were a randy teenager. Your body was everything he remembered, and more. More of everything he remembered loving and lusting over 20 years ago. 
“Damn.”
He said it out loud and the bartender replied.
“Agreed, Brother.”
Sy looked at the young man admiring you who couldn’t be over 25, and threw down some money.
“Watch it, kid.”
That little bit of jealousy fueled Sy’s bravado, and he found the courage to step to you. 
—--
You froze like a deer in headlights. 
Over the years, you imagined seeing him again, in all different kinds of scenario, and you thought you could handle it, but the reality of the situation just about knocked you on your ass. Time stopped as you stared at him. 
Sy was more handsome with age, if that was possible. His eyes, his shoulders, his hair! His gorgeous curls were short and a shock of hair was growing from his chin. Your body reacted as your traitorous brain instantly thought of how his beard would feel on certain parts of your body. He looked good in a suit, but he was massive. You had on heels, but Sy seemed bigger than you remembered. He wasn’t the lithe high school quarterback you remembered.
You unconsciously walked closer. 
He was taller. 
But he was also huge: bigger muscles, thicker limbs; his body seemed more powerful all the way around.
Heaven help you.
And the way he was looking at you as if he still owned you, as if all everything that happened hadn’t happened. As if all these years…
Your arms went out to Carla and Tiff beside you for some support, but they were gone, and you stumbled a bit. Sy grabbed your arm quickly as you laughed to play it off.
“Hey Buttercup. You good?”
Goodness, his voice!
How could that damn drawl be deeper and sexier than you remembered? And his touch on your skin felt familiar, yet strange, like a touch from a dream. What was happening to you?
“I need a drink.”
Sy was silent for a bit as you got your drink and had a sip. The way you licked your lips made him want to fall to his knees and beg.
—--
May 2004
“Please, please, please Buttercup. Just let me put the tip in. I promise I won’t move. It wouldn’t really be doing it…”
Sy was whispering in your ear and you were mute, waiting to hear more as your pussy pulsed in your jeans, the grind against his crotch delicious torture.
“I dream about it, Buttercup. I feel you, Baby. So fucking wet for me. I just know that it would feel so, so so good. I’d slip right in.”
It was midnight on your 18th birthday and you were in the Bronco, letting Sy feel you up under your panties for the first time. Your head was thrown back and your eyes rolled at how good it felt. You didn’t know how you would hold out. But it was just three weeks until Prom.
You were sat on his lap and he had one hand down your jeans and one up your shirt.
He pistoned his hips up, causing your back to arch against his chest. You could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.. Sy’s voice lowered to a whisper.
“‘M Gonna taste my fingers, Buttercup. Watch.”
You opened your eyes as Sy pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth. You whined when he closed his eyes and moaned. You throbbed. It had never been like this before.
“You are so delicious… Need more…”
Sy pushed his hand back down into your pants to get you to do that arch again. It sent him feral to see that for some reason.
His fingers found the source and circled it, causing your body to tense up and your fingers to grab his arms.
“Oh my god! Sy!”
You’d come close to this feeling before just grinding with him on the back seat, but this was incomparable.
Your fingernails sunk into his forearms, creating marks for sure. This fueled him even more as he continued his ministrations at your core. He toyed beneath your bra and your mouth opened to seek oxygen as the feeling in your belly continued to tune you to a fever pitch.
“Yes…. Baby….. fuck… You gonna cum on my lap?”
“Hunnnh, hunnh, hunnnh!”
“You’re so fucking hot… I’m about to jizz in my pants… cum for me, Baby…”
Sy grinded against your bottom, and you stiffened while the world’s most wonderful feeling washed over you. You cried out as Sy pinched your nipple and you came, feeling as if the Bronco was caught up in the Wizard of Oz Twister. The world was certainly now in color when you could open your eyes.
Sy held you, watching your beautiful face as you pouted and came back to earth. When you did, your smile was worth all the gold in the world to him. He kissed your temple and slipped his hand out of your pants, sucking your juices off of them again.
You were about to jump him, but Sy interrupted your thought.
“Now that you’ve got a preview of Prom night, let’s get you home, Buttercup. Gotta get your beauty sleep for the festivities later on tonight.”
—-
Sy cleared his throat after staring at you silently for a solid three minutes. The way you licked your lips clean and focused on him was some powerful magic.
“So. How have you been, Sy? How is the family?”
You tried to keep any bitterness out of your voice. The fact that Becca Spurgeon ruined your prom (and your relationship with Sy) by announcing that she was pregnant with Sy’s baby after she was crowned Prom Queen and he Prom King was something you’d tried to get over for 20 years. 
Sy straightened up and looked over your shoulder. You glanced in that direction to see Carla and Tiffani hovering protectively. 
“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”
——
If you like it, hit Reblog!
Next part here.
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sillyrabbit81 · 1 year
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Henry Cavill's shoulders appreciation post
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swiss-mrs · 10 days
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Can you write a second chance a love with SY. He and reader were exes and tension has built up where he can’t help but kiss you and profess that he still misses you. Thanks!
Second Chances
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Captain Syverson x GN!Reader
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: Mentions of Failed (Military) Relationships, Mentions of Fighting/Regretted Words Exchanged, Slight Sexism/Toxic Masculinity/Trad Views, Self-Doubt, Slight Depression, Sy is Able to Lift Reader, Angst with Happy Ending (As Requested)
Reader/Unnamed OC Description: No Physical Descriptions, No Mentions of Race, Height, Weight, Ethnicity, Etc., Age is 25+, Sy is 35+, No Use of Y/N, Only You/Your Pronouns, Mentioned as “darling" and "beautiful", otherwise gender neutral.
Life is… fine. Wake up. Go to work. Come back home to your apartment. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. There wasn't really anything to complain about, but there was a notable loss. The only thing is now you're just used to it.
In the beginning, it was always the little things, someone passing with a similar cologne, a specific food brand at the grocery store, a familiar street you no longer pass by as often. Eventually, the watery eyes tamed to a pang in your chest. Now, it's all just numbness. Even with friends, your smile makes appearances again, but the happiness doesn't quite reach your eyes the way it used to. It's been so long, they just stopped mentioning it, but you still notice the occasional pity look.
It's a crazy thing to think about how you've lived more of your life without him than you have with him, but that doesn't lessen the effect.
You'd survived your childhood, your teenage years, and early twenty-something without him. After meeting the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on, you'd be foolish not to reciprocate his advances. Though you shortly had your skepticism after finding out his occupation, he was quick to assure you he was no quick trip, and ultimately, you caved.
And he for sure had you, for years in fact. He had you completely believing every one of his ‘I love you's and ‘forever's, yet here you are, missing the way he'd fill up the space in your life.
You'd had a life before him, a decently fulfilling, single life until he showed up and screwed that all up. He wasn't necessarily your first ‘love’, but he was definitely your first ‘true love’. And, now, you were feeling the effects of that loss.
The first thing that hit you after your split with Sy was anger, pure reactivity to how everything ended. How dare he call you ‘too much’. How dare he try to pull the whole ‘you signed up for this’ bullshit. He had the audacity to make every problem your problem. Fuck him for making your ‘forever’ just another failed military love that should've known better.
You were soon to block him, not wanting to hear any of his ‘I'm sorry's or ‘can we talk's. You'd already talked, talked a little too much. You were done. ‘Let it die’ was your mantra for months. He ruined you, had you looking in the mirror different. You couldn't talk to anyone, express yourself, ask for help, be vulnerable without seeing it as annoying, dramatic, ‘too much’. Maybe, it was just you?
You took it upon yourself to change, distance yourself, drift away. Was it just you? No one made a comment about how they suddenly heard from you less. Were you really too much?
For a long while, you wished he'd cheated, abused, something, anything to make you hate him. Could you really hate him for it? You didn't work out. That's not his fault. He didn't understand you, and a couple of rude words weren't nearly enough to hate him. He was ultimately a good guy. He was never unfaithful, never would even dare to think of laying a hand on you, but when it was all said and done, he was a bit neglectful. But, how much of that was him, and how much of it was his job? Oftentimes, it was hard to distinguish. Too often was it an excuse.
Did he love you? sure. Could he have loved more? yes. Too often did it feel like he was one-sided. You were there for him, not the other way around. You are his, not the other way around. You needed him, not the other way around. And to have that shoved back in your face when you brought it up was not the right reaction. He shouldn't feel like an animal cornered when you brought up a concern, something he did that hurt you, but he did. A valid point shouldn't be shot down or argued with counterpoint, but it was. Now, you can only second guess yourself, and that shouldn't be how it is, but it is.
You loved too hard, that will haunt you. He loved too little, and that will forever haunt him.
He hated himself. You were everything he ever prayed for, a beautiful partner with a beautiful smile and a beautiful soul, someone he could have forever. He didn't realize that the thought of ‘having someone’ was wrong of him. He was selfish. You never did anything but show him your heart, your mind, and he blew it up in your face. He destroyed something, someone so beautiful. A day hasn't passed that he wasn't filled with regret. He couldn't even smile or laugh anymore. He became scary.
He'd lost the one piece of true happiness in his life, and it was his fault.
He craved you. He needed you, but he was too late. Why couldn't he have realized what he had sooner? Appreciate you like you deserve. Love you like you deserve. He knows he has it in him, but he just couldn't. fucking. see. it. He wants to kick his own ass for it. He desperately wants to turn back time, go back with the mindset he has now, or at least beat it into his past self.
He'd gotten too damn comfortable being in the military. Vulnerability is weakness. Why would he use his words? Why think about anything, decode? Feelings are best buried. He's a man's-man, and a man only needs to protect and provide
He believed that ideology never gave him issues until you. You challenged that ideal. You asked him for his thoughts, his feelings. You wanted to know. You cared. It annoyed him. Why the fuck would he care? Sure he had thoughts and feelings somewhere, but he pushed them down. Why bring them back up? You surely had too much time on your hands to be concerned with what he was thinking. You wanted connection. He knows that now, but what is that going to do for him now?
He immediately felt the effects of your absence. He was deployed when you left your shared home. He watched you leave on the security camera, car packed to the brim. Sure, he had felt a type of way about it then, but then he was only apologizing for the sake of it. He was just another man in the wrong. Apologize to your upset partner, make up, and move on, but oh, was it so much more different now.
He was filed to the brim with remorse. Even then, he had visions of your shared future, retiring or climbing ranks to settle in one place, building a family, a home, preferably on a large, secluded plot of land. How he looks on with different eyes at that ‘future’ now. He never truly believed in all that ‘grass is greener’ ‘know what you have ‘til it's gone’ B.S. until he'd lost you. He gets it now.
It wasn't until that switch was flipped for him to realize you blocked him, excommunicated. He was gone so much that he never got a chance to build any sort of relationship with your friends. It irritates him now that he is probably known as just the shitty military ex. The closest thing he has to you is a friend of a friend of his who is a friend of a friend of yours. At first, he'd rather die than try to reach out to you that way, but now, there was no line, no bridge he wouldn't cross to just get one more moment with you.
He'd been stewing on it for the last year and a half. You'd moved and blocked him. It seemed utterly hopeless to reconnect, but something came up recently that has him itching again.
He's been promoted. A good job, good position, and in one place. It was perfect. The start of your ‘forever’ together. The only thing missing is you. Friend of a friend² be damned. He had to fix this, and just his luck to find you. Just your luck to be found.
It took several minutes for you to lay eyes on him, but he spotted you immediately. The second you walked through the door of your new favorite café, he saw you. He couldn't believe it. He originally pulled himself into this place because it simply reminded him of you. It had you written all over it. He felt closer to you here. He wouldn't have guessed you would just walk in like this. His eyes followed you as you stood in line and ordered.
He noticed you glance around the café briefly and still not spot him seated at a back table facing the exit. His heart raced, seeing your eyes wander before going to your phone. He knew that look, though. You were only fidgeting with it, trying to make yourself look busy to avoid any social awkwardness. It made him grin as he stared longingly. There were some things that didn't change.
It had been a whole two years since you last saw Sy, about eight months since you stopped seeing him in every stranger. You weren't going to back track now, so you stared down blankly at your phone to keep yourself from staring at the familiar looking guy in the corner. He was missing a thick beard and a shaved head, but with a quick glance, he looked an awful lot like heartbreak.
Sy knew he was on borrowed time, the chances of you sitting alone in any kind of restaurant was slim to none, and considering you weren't looking for seating meant you were grabbing and going. He had to think of something and fast.
His body was standing, and his feet were moving before his mind could catch up. It wasn't until he was about two feet away that he stopped and started panicking. You noticed the man standing in your peripheral, but you kept your head down to avoid any awkward eye contact. That was until your name fell from his lips, causing you to look up from your phone.
“Sy?” Your eyes widened and your brows furrowed together. Your heart immediately started blasting in your ears. You couldn't breathe. You'd thought about running into him again, about all you wanted to say to him, telling him off? apologizing? But that was before your move, before you forced him out of your mind. Now, you were face to face with your anxiety and dreaded nightmare. Your name was muffled from his mouth and to your ears the second time.
“Hi. How have you been?” He wanted to punch himself in the face for how casual that came out, but he quite honestly couldn't think of anything better to say without falling over his own words. He awaited a response from you, but you only stared like a deer in headlights.
You genuinely couldn't hear a word coming out of his mouth. Was he talking? He had to have been. His mouth was moving, but it was like his voice was muffled. Something you assume was your name came out again before your name was called a bit louder by a different voice behind you.
You whip your head around to find a perky barista with a drink in hand, looking in your direction. You scurry over to her and take your drink with a curt thank you, as polite as you can muster in this moment. Without even a second glance, you're making a rushed escape for the exit. Your name is called again, but you're tunnel visioned on the door out.
Sy's stomach tightens and drops at the sight of your flee, but again his body is in full control at this point. He's utterly in shock. He didn't know what to expect, but this was his chance. All he knew is that he couldn't let you leave, not again, so this time, he chased after you.
As soon as you're out the door, he's right behind you, having to catch the door from slamming on him. He calls out for you again, but you don't stop, so he keeps running.
It's once you're passed the café windows that he finally catches up. He reaches to grab for your arm but quickly changes his mind to just step in front of you instead. “Wait! Please, darlin’, wa-”
“Don't call me that.” He's taken aback by the sudden words but retracts nonetheless.
“Please. Wait.” It was at this point that you both have fallen silent that you get a good look at him. His hair has grown out of its ‘tactical buzzcut’ and into a pretty generic cut that was redeemed by the dark curls atop his head. His beard was now trimmed down to only some scruff and a mustache. It was an odd combination of seeing him with more and less hair than usual, but he was just as handsome as ever, unfortunately.
The pause between you both was long. Though it should be awkward, it was also strangely comfortable or rather empty. Being in each other's presence again was like putting on an old hoodie. It was cathartic and familiar, but the memories, the history, was hard to get passed. Your name falls from his lips again, a lot softer and barely there. Your eyes were trained on his face, unable to look away. His were downcast.
“I… I….” His eyes close as he takes a deep breath in an attempt to gain some composure. His bottom lip juts out a bit as his mouth tightens into a little frown. “Please, I need to talk with you.” He opens his eyes, encapsulating your gaze in his.
The sight of his eyes outside of your memory is enough to empty your brain of any thought, so you remain silent. But he needs an answer from you, so he waits.
“What is there to talk about?” You say. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you built walls that weren't there before, and it shakes him to his core. He did that.
“A lot.” He sighs, huffing out a singular humorless laugh through his nose. His face briefly quirks like it wants to give a smile to match the short laugh, but the overwhelming weight of the situation at hand just won't allow for it.
You stare up at him for a few beats of silence, both of your chests tight with anxiety. You've never seen him so close to breaking down. He's never seen you so blank. Neither of you really knows what to do, but eventually, your eyes fall from his face before you walk passed him.
Sy freezes. The world around him simultaneously crumbles and halts. His breathing completely stills. You don't get five steps away before you turn back and call after him, “You want to talk. I'm not giving you another chance to do so.” You say, expecting him to follow you. As soon as the realization hits, he moves with haste. He's beside you walking before you're even done turning back around.
It was a good two blocks before Sy spoke up. “How have you been?” He tries again, looking over to you as you walk.
“Fine.” You answer curtly. It makes Sy frown again. It's the kind of ‘fine’ you'd give a stranger, and he hates that that's what you've become. He feels a bit shut down but continues. This is his chance.
“Well, that's, um, good to hear.” He states, but the end of the sentence inflicts an upward tone, almost into a question.
“I wasn't for a long time, but now, I'm fine.” You add, and it's the hardest punch in the gut Sy has ever received. His jaw clenched as he nodded. He swallows, trying to carefully choose his words, knowing how much each one counts.
“Darlin-” He cuts himself off by correcting it to your name. He sighs again, “Please, genuinely hear me when I express how sorry I am.”
“I'm sure you are.” He glosses over your response, continuing.
“Look, I know I've said it before, but, in all honesty, I didn't-” He cuts himself off again, making sure he words it correctly.
“Didn't mean it?” You finished, a bit annoyed.
“No.” He's quick to correct, “I meant it.” He says, determined, “I knew that I had made you upset, and I knew to apologize for it, but I didn't really know the meaning behind it.” He admits. “I didn't understand.” He confirms what you already know. “I was foolish. Stuck in an old way.” He pauses with another frown. “I didn't understand why you wanted to dig into me. I didn't understand that you were only trying to connect with me, really connect. I got defensive. ” He looks up from the ground to your eyes with a sad, guilty look, like he's confessing. “I was stupid and didn't believe in sharing every part of me with you.” He slows his pace, forcing you to match until you're stopped in front of him.
You're facing each other as he continues with his confession. “I thought doing so would make me less of a man, but I understand now.” He gives you a quick, little, sad smile before it disappears into a guilty frown. “I understand that it was an integral part of strengthening our bond, our love. You'd show me every part of you in return for me doing the same, and we'd accept each other, every part.” He gives another sad smile that breaks your heart all over again. He looks down shamefully with a hard look on his face, “I understand now.”
You look at him with a sad pout. Half of you wants to give him a piece of your mind. Two years!? It took all that time to just now fucking realize what you were asking of him!? But the other half didn't know how to feel. What is he trying to do? Redeem himself? What.
“So that's it? You just wanted to give me an actual apology?” He can see that your walls are still up. He fixes his jaw.
“Yes, but,” He starts. He knew that you weren't going to just fall into his arms, but he still hoped it would be that easy to just pick up where you left off. He sighs with his eyes closed, this time shakily, nervous. It confuses you as you've never seen the Captain Syverson nervous. “I've been…” He stops short, pausing. Jesus, you never thought you'd see the day this immovable mountain of a man revert to a reprehensible kid. “I know we can't pick up where we left off, and I kind of don't want to,” He tries again, this time getting a confused and slightly offended expression from you, “but can we, maybe, start over?” He looks at you with the most hopeful, pitiful puppy eyes you've ever seen, another thing you never thought you'd see from him.
The air forcefully leaves your lungs as all the progress you've made through the years to try and make yourself impenetrable leaves with it. Your chest tightens as you try to will the upcoming tears away. It's your turn to let out a humorless laugh. You shake your head, looking off into the distance, “You really hurt me, Sy.” You look back at him with the most heartbreaking expression. He nearly looks close to tears at the sight. “I'm too much. I'm needy. I expect too much.”
“No, no, no.” He stops you, stepping closer only to get you retreating from him. Your step back drives the heartbreak further into his chest. He shakes his head in utter disagreement, a disgusted grimace on his features. “You're not. You're. not. I was foolish and childish, and I was not ready for you.”
“But you're ready now?” You interject in disbelief.
“Yes,” He states firmly without hesitation. He steps up again. This time, your body visibly tenses, but you don't move away. “I'm more than ready. I need you.” He takes another smaller, gentler step forward. “I hate that it took you leaving for me to see that, but I do.”
“Sy-”
“Please. Please. Don't say it's too late. Don't say we can't try again. Please, just one more chance.” He looks down abruptly like a private who just got caught looking at a superior officer. He's begging. He knows how he hurt you and your trust. Like a dog showing its belly, he's trying to show you his submission. Ultimately, it's in your hands, but he's determined.
You stare at him while trying to decipher the mess in your mind. “Sy.” You say a bit more calmly. His demeanor doesn't change. You sigh, “How do I know you wouldn't just fail back into old habits? What if, even after all this, you just repeat the same closed book bullshit? What's different?” You try to find his eyes, but they remain downcast as he stays still.
“I've been promoted.” He states a bit detached, poorly stating fact, anything you want from him. “I'd no longer be in the field, no longer deployed. I'd be in one place.” He purses his lips into another right frown. “It's the start of what we used to talk about.” He says, words laced with hope and nostalgia. “Remember?” He tests, voice as soft as silk. Your eyes sadden even more, looking down with a miniscule nod. “I can settle down. Stop putting myself in the line of fire every day. I'd come home to you every night, wake up with you every mornin’.” His eyes soften as they peer up at you through his dark eyelashes. “Get that dream house.” He raises his brows with soft eyes and a sigh of a grin.
“Sy.” He quickly follows with your name before you continue. The gentle way your name rolls off his tongue makes your heart race at a concerning rate. “I,” you sigh, “I can't just run back to you after all this time.” You scoff out a sad laugh.
“So, let's just start with a date.” He tries again softly, melting your heart in your chest. “No pressure, no expectations, just one do-over.” His eyes flutter softly as his eyes return to their submissive downcast. “A reintroduction to the people we've become. A second first date.” He concludes. You can't help but let out a soft giggle, skinny trying to hold yourself together. Though it's sad, Sy has never heard a more beautiful sound. His chest swells with hope.
It takes time for you to make up your mind, and he gives it to you. Your everything was already screaming at you to say yes, but you couldn't let him know that, so you took your time. “Okay.” You cave. Sy's brows shoot up, and his face breaks out into a huge, mouth agape smile. The image of pure overjoyed surprise.
He can't help himself but close the distance between you and scoop you in his arms, twirling you around, with a victorious laugh. The shock of it all and contagious joy causes you to let out a small giggle. He looks up at you in his arms and drops you down enough to plant a kiss on your lips. Though quick, the kiss was filled with nothing but longing and love.
As if realizing what's happened, he's quick to gently set you back down and take a step back, returning to the same distance you were at prior. He is a bit awkward with his hands before setting them on his hips. He still has a bright smile on his face, “I,” he huffs, “You have no idea how you've just made me the happiest man to ever exist.” He tries to just quickly move passed what just happened. “So, could I, maybe, get your number?” He says, trying his best to contain his joy.
You laugh, admittedly a little awkward. “It's the same one.” You fidget, “I can, uh, I'll unblock you, as long as you have the same number as well, I mean.” You stumble. He nods.
“Yeah. Yeah, it's the same one.” He sighs, content. His eyes are filled with admiration and adoration, like you hung the moon and stars single handedly. It was everything you ever wanted from him to see his love within him.
You quickly pull your phone out and unlock his number on the spot. “There.” You shoot him a quick text. Even after all this time, his tagname never changed in your phone. You hear his phone ding moments later, and he pulls it out with an even brighter smile and a sigh of relief. He never thought he'd see your name pop up in his notifications again. Once again, it's always the little things that are missed.
“Are you free this weekend? Friday night, maybe?” He asks. You give him a small smile and a nod. “Great! Great, I'll- I'll pick you up? We can get dinner after work and…start over.” He sighs. He's both a little sad and over the moon. He wants nothing more than to do a quick catch-up and just start pouring his love into you, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. You give another small smile.
“I can't wait.” You say. He nods curtly. “You can tell me all about your new job.” His face brightens at you, showing interest in him again. He steps forward to stand beside you, holding out his elbow.
“Let me walk you to your car.” You breathe out a small chuckle before hooking your hand in his elbow, taking back to the café parking lot. Just a few paces in, Sy leans in closer to you to whisper in a low tone, “I know we're going to go slow, but I just want to say… I missed you.” You look into his deep blue eyes before looking down at his mustached lips.
“I've missed you too.” You whisper back with a small smile.
The remainder of the work week, Sy was notably different, even getting some teasing comments from coworkers. Your friends tried tearing into you, asking why you suddenly looked like the life returned in you, but you kept your lips sealed. You were taking things one step at a time with Sy.
The most anyone got was “I have a date.”
____
I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for the request, Anon! I hope I did it justice. (sorry it took so long. I've been a bit under the weather😅)
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