40ish female she/her. Over 18’s only please. This is just where I hang out, read and chat - originally I was an SOA fic stalker and then I fell down most any fic hole My Masterlist
Hello! I write for Captain Syverson (Henry Cavill character in the movie Sand Castle) and apparently Captain Syverson only. All of these are Syverson x Reader. Enjoy!! (** will denote smut)
Surprise–(OR–you find out you’re pregnant while Sy’s deployed)–established relationship
[Part One–Y/N’s POV] [Part Two Sy’s POV] [Part Three **] [Part Four–WIP]
The Bad Stuff Never Stops Happening–Angst, Established Relationship
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five–WIP]
The Staircase Fic
[Part One] [Part Two–WIP]
Eyes That See—Your life consists of caring for others. This is a story of you learning to care for yourself. (WIP)[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Eight **] [Part Nine **] [Part Nine and a Half] [Part Ten**] [Part Eleven**] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen**] [Part Fifteen**] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen**] [Part Eighteen*****] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty]
[ETS Questions] [What Sy’s Place Looks Like] [When Sy First Sees Y/N] [Taking Sy to a Wedding] [Napping With Sy] [Y/N on her period] [ETS Playlist] [ETS Break In 1] [ETS Break In 2] [If Sy Confronted Cole] [Sy’s Night Terror] [Post ETS Lake Trip Snippet]
ETS Summary: Your life has consisted of caring for others. This is a story of you learning to care for yourself.
ETS Part 20 Summary: After spending the morning at the Christmas tree farm with Sy, you share a domestic afternoon together before going to Johnny and Amelia’s Ugly Christmas Sweater party. With your relationship with Sy being official, you start having flashbacks of the last time you were somebody’s girlfriend.
[previous parts here]
Words: 14k
Warnings: previous emotional abuse, undiagnosed CPTSD
A/N: Um…hi? Hi! Hello!
I'm feeling like this chapter is repetitive and sucky but also that's probably because it's been forever to write and is generally plotless but still important! So hopefully it was worth the wait to get the story ready for the next big chapters which include the USP (ugly sweater party), BTWJ (big talk with Justine), and the GTTV (groundbreaking trip to Virginia)
Also: There are flashbacks between Y/N and her most recent ex in this part that are all italicized, so I just wanted to share that bit of information since otherwise they may make little sense out of context.
Taglist: I will reblog to tag people. Thanks to everyone for being so supportive and nice during the long hiatus!!
When you and Sy both stand up from the floor in the spare bedroom, you’re able to tell that his knee hurts. Like always, he’s purposefully trying to not give anything away–even noncommittally brushes off your questioning expression–but you know. You're better at that now.
There's the regular standing-up-with-a-grunt thing that gives it away, yeah, but Sy's also walking like his knee’s entirely buckled, like he can’t bend his leg whatsoever. There's also the fact that he's clenching his jaw so tightly that instead of just finishing an emotional conversation with you, you'd think he’d just been arguing with your old manager, Cole. He’d obviously done too much walking at the Christmas tree farm this morning.
Likewise, you're worried.
Despite his unspoken discomfort, Sy wordlessly leaves the room with two boxes at once in his arms–one of the ornaments he'd come up here for in the first place, and one of the photographs he just found and briefly got sentimental over.
“Oh, no, you don't,” you simply tell him, blocking his way at the top of the staircase. “That's too much. Let me help.”
Even with grumpy-brows, he surprisingly concedes.
Unsurprisingly, however, he gives you the lighter box consisting of delicate ornaments before walking around you with the heavier one jam-packed with photographs. Sighing, you follow him down the stairs.
You hold back the urgent impulse you're feeling to apologize to him a million times for being the cause of his knee pain. Instead, you carefully glance down at him around the box in your arms to see how he's faring, quickly enough for you to not lose your balance or fall.
That'd be pretty horrible–falling. You'd end up trampling over him and actually breaking his legs, you bet. You guess with all things considered, a sore knee isn't so bad, actually…And surely you can’t be the sole cause of his knee pain. It's cold outside which affects it. And he’d chosen to walk around the farm with you. He wanted to. He took you there.
Your intrusive thoughts need to go somewhere else.
“So what’re you gonna wear to the party later on, anyway?” you ask Sy as you step down into the foyer.
“Eh, some sweater Sam got me," he dismissively answers, and by your side, he looks over at you.
You remain in place and absently glance at his leg after hefting up the box in your arms one last time. At his continued expectant expression, however, you look back up.
“Oh, me?” you ask.
He hums.
"What,” you tease, finally choosing to just secure the box at just one of your hips like you're carrying a baby, “you wanna see if we're gonna match?"
Again, not offering an actual answer, Sy just levels you with a look.
“I don’t really own anything I could wear,” you tell him while slowly walking down the hall and now imagining you're a peasant from long ago, carrying a basket of fresh-picked root vegetables on your hip because the winter will be long and there's still so much work to do, “so Amelia just loaned me somethin’ at work yesterday."
While Sy makes another small noise behind you, you enter the kitchen and set down the box you've been hauling onto the first surface you see. Despite worrying about the state of Sy's knee–and having a million simultaneous and uncontrollable other random thoughts–your attention is quickly consumed by another object on the kitchen counter: the Charlie Brown tree you'd picked from the tree lot.
You can’t help but longingly stare at the tree in all its small and pathetic and perfect glory, and you think to yourself for the millionth time–you're just so happy. You got the tree you wanted.
Sy mirrors your actions by placing his box of photos directly beside the box of ornaments, and by your side, he stands there simply watching you. It’s a calm look of interest, but interest for what, you don’t know. Figuring he just wants to hear you talk, you continue with the last topic you’d just brought up–the sweater Amy loaned you.
“Uh, yeah. It’s just a dark green sweatshirt with, like, red trim at the bottom and top,” you explain while using one of your hands to describe, and even though you feel like the topic is boring, Sy puts his hand on the small of your back and continues providing full attention to you.
“And in the middle,” you go on, now realizing you're chewing the nails of your free hand, “it’s, uh. It's got a bunch of random off-center things. Like a snowman and a Christmas tree and a star. I think there’s a reindeer or somethin’ on it, too.”
Sy slides his hand lower down your back. “Sexy.”
Chuckling, you drop both your hands and push his hand off your ass. “Yeah, and I’m gonna have to wear a turtleneck underneath it, too,” you gesture to your neck and tell him playfully, “so thank you very much for that.”
“Anytime,” he answers conversationally as he touches your ass one last time, ultimately moving his hand to rest on your hip. When he glances at you again and badly winks, you roll your eyes playfully.
Stiffly, Sy tilts his head towards the counter. "You wanna do this now or what?"
You look over at what he’s gesturing to. “Decorate?”
Sy's face curiously tightens while he nods.
"Sure,” you carefully agree. That's why you'd brought down the ornaments in the first place, you remind yourself. “You got some lights we can put on first, right?"
Sy looks up at the ceiling, most likely imagining what's in the storage room you'd both just exited. "Well, hell.”
Softly, you chuckle. “Guess not.”
“I do–Just–Big." He clears his throat. "The ones that're up there are gonna be too long."
Your apology for getting a tree so small that a regular string of lights won't even fit on it is right on your lips. It's right there. You want to say sorry.
Instead, you take a deep breath. You don’t need to have weird continued anxiety over this too-small Christmas tree right now. You like it, Sy likes it–it’s done. What’s more concerning is that he’s so silently uncomfortable right now. Even the way he’s currently touching your hip is telling. As if he's actively trying not to use you as an outlet for the pain, he's purposefully not squeezing too hard. Still, you can somehow feel the restraint.
"I've actually got some lights in my room that'll work," you suggest, sympathetically touching his chest. "No problem."
Slowly, you disengage from Sy and walk to the little cabinet by the refrigerator where he keeps his stash of vitamins and protein powder. You dig around until finding some extra-strength Tylenol, and after shaking out three capsules into your palm, you open another cabinet to find a cup.
"They're the lights around my bookshelf," you tell him while reaching above your head and pulling down a glass. "I'll just bring ‘em by next time.”
You fill the glass with water from the fridge and walk back to Sy, wordlessly placing the pills in one of his hands and then holding out the cup to him in offering. He stares down at his own palm for a moment before ultimately tossing all three capsules into his mouth, accepting the glass from you, and then washing them down with two long gulps.
His face is still pinched when he wipes residual water off his mustache. He nods at you. "Thanks."
After nodding back, you pull your mouth downwards. “Do you think you might need somethin’ stronger?” you quietly ask. “Like, do you have an actual prescription for when your knee gets really bad?”
Sy shakes his head and deeply answers, “I don't fuck with that shit.”
You just nod again. You figured.
After mulling over his pain and then ultimately sighing, you finally just take his glass from him and set it on the counter.
“Don'tchu be worryin’,” he quietly tells you.
“Tryin’ not to.” You shrug. “I just don't want it to hurt.”
“It's gonna,” he bluntly answers. “I'll live.”
He stares at you for such a long time that you end up pushing yourself up onto your tip-toes to casually kiss him, partially in apology that he has to go through this knee shit alone, and partially just because he's who he is. You use the subsequent heavy silence to pick up the Christmas tree and admire it some more. You know that discussing his injury is the last thing Sy wants to do right now.
Imagining where you’re going to display the tree–the first tree Sy's put up since moving into this house, you remind yourself–you slowly carry it into the living room.
Passing the mantle of the fireplace where you imagine some Syerson family photos being displayed soon, you approach the thin table in front of the room's double-paned window. You place the tree there in suggestion and you glance back at Sy who's by the fireplace with his hands in his pockets. After you two make eye contact, he nods just once.
You look at the tree again and then back to Sy. "You sure you’d like it here?"
"Looks good," he affirms.
Touching the tree carefully while you prop it up against the wall to keep it upright, you wonder what you’ll need to use as a tree-stand. You wonder what it’ll look like once it's lit up with fairy lights and adorned with five or six well-chosen ornaments. You wonder how it’d look with strands of tinsel hanging off its too-long branches.
You’re broken away from your daydreams by Sy audibly stretching. “We waitin’ on those lights, then?”
“I guess.” You shrug. “It'd be easier. Plus we need some sorta stand before we put ornaments on here…the tree'll just tip over.”
"Ten-four. I'm gonna go do some chores 'fore we gotta get goin’, then," he tells you, and you turn to him.
“You’re serious?”
Wordlessly nodding, he pulls his chest out while clasping both hands behind him in another long stretch.
“The instant that tree-decoratin’ is off the schedule, you’re already on to the next thing, huh?”
“Gotta feed the chickens, fetch some wood…”
It’s pointless to comment about how he should probably rest his knee. "You go fetch that wood," you absentmindedly murmur as you make your way to the couch and plop down, and Sy stares at you with his expression unmoving until it finally breaks.
Smiling at your hilarity, he steps closer to the couch and taps your nose with his index finger, right above your sudden matching grin. The lingering touch serves as a kiss until he steps away again, heading out of the room. Looking at you one last time with a small smirk on his face, he opens the back door and then walks outside. You lift your hand and wiggle your fingers at him before he kicks the door shut with his boot.
With a smile of your own still on your face, you lay back and stretch out the full length of the couch, and that’s when thoughts of last night re-enter your head. Thoughts of last night on this exact same spot.
While your cheeks heat up, you wonder if Sy was thinking of the same thing while he was looking at you just now, if that’s truly why he was smirking and not from your dry wit he’s totally jealous of.
He was probably thinking of last night, too. Obviously, that’s where his mind would’ve gone…He's cocky that way. But cocky or not, though, he’s still so fucking sweet. For someone so big and so tall and so…large–and honestly quite intimidating-looking with his perpetual resting-scowl-face, too–he’s honestly just so fucking sweet. He really is. As you stare at the Christmas tree for the thousandth time today, you’re reminded that he really would do just about anything for you.
You continue mulling over the insane state of your life–you’re in a relationship, a real one–while grabbing the remote and switching on the television. After changing the channel a few times, you settle on a show about jade-miners in Alaska and hug a pillow to yourself.
It’s still a strange concept–both asking for things from Sy and accepting things from Sy–but you’re really getting better at it. You are. You genuinely are. You’re struggling, but you’re getting there. You’re at that point now where you aren’t so afraid, at least. Things are still just so new and everything is so massively different compared to the men you’ve been with in the past, is all.
Because Sy actually communicates with you and welcomes you to honestly communicate back, you’re always sure where you stand with him. And, more than that, you’re happy. You’re happy for yourself. To be involved in a relationship that’s actually healthy for once, it’s…huge. Despite your anxiety causing you to worry about just about every single thing ever in existence, you don’t have to add your relationship to that list.
You don’t have to worry about picking out a less-than-desirable Christmas tree–he honestly does not give a shit. You don’t have to worry about him being somehow mad at you because he’s being quieter than normal–it’s because his knee hurts. And you definitely don’t have to fret about going to a party with him–you know from experience that it won’t end badly.
If you were going to this party tonight with anyone but Sy, you’d already be anxious. You would’ve been anxious all week, honestly. There’d be entirely too much to consider, too many factors involved, too many option-lines where things could go all wrong. Any discrete miscalculation on your part could open up five or more scenarios that an average person would never typically dwell on.
But, if it were anybody but Sy, you’d have no choice but to dwell.
First, you’d have to plan out who would be driving. It’d almost always be you, but there would always be the chance that could change…maybe you could catch a ride with someone else who was going, too. You’d have to text around to find out who else was invited so you’d know how to plan out all the travel options. At the same time, you’d have to prepare yourself for the socialization, for all the factors at play with everyone’s individual relationship histories.
Then you’d have to think ahead about what clothes you’d wear. (Themed parties would always be hard.) You couldn’t be down-dressed for the occasion or else your partner would feel embarrassed, but you also couldn’t dress in anything considered suggestive because then he’d assume you were trying to purposefully get attention from other men. Then that would start accusations. Then that would start an argument.
Next, you’d have to consider if you’d be able to even drink. That would mean you’d have to know in advance how long you’d be staying and how many drinks you’d be able to metabolize in that amount of time and still be legally good to operate a vehicle–assuming correctly that you’d be driving back home that night, that is. You’d leave the option open of possibly sleeping there, but that would mean imposing and potentially being seen as annoying and needy guests, so that’d be the first obstacle to cross.
If you even got past that hurdle by speaking with the hosts to see if it would even be okay, then you’d have to strategically ask him prior to the party if he’d be willing to stay the night. Almost always the answer would be no, so you’d have to be really careful about your wording so you could at least try to be persuasive when you asked. You’d have to practice what you were going to say a few times, then you’d also have to make sure there was a good-mood-window for you to even take your chance to ask at all, because if he was already in a bad mood, you’d just make things worse by bringing it up. And even if he was in a good mood, you’d still have to fully expect the answer to be no because high expectations only breed disappointment. After all, why would y'all need to stay somewhere else when he’s got a bed of his own and someone to drive him back home to it?
So then you’d have to drink slowly and only socially once you arrived at the party because of you being the designated driver. The medicine you take would also be a factor, of course, but mainly, you wouldn’t want to let your guard down and do or say something stupid with him and other people around to witness. You'd have to be careful. Exacting. You’d have to make sure you weren’t talking with any men for too long. You’d always feel the constant weight of being watched and perceived.
You’d have to secretly monitor his own drinking. You'd have to step in to carefully steer all his later conversations to a happier place, a livelier place, all-the-while stewing in second-hand awkwardness over his loudening and ever-growing embarrassing behavior. Then you'd have to make sure none of it could be seen on your face or else the drive home would be ruined, subsequently the entire night.
You’d have to plan every single thing out.
But you don’t need to anymore. You don’t need to do any of that.
Tonight, all that you’re honestly worrying about is the headache you might have tomorrow from having too much fun. That's it.
You physically shake your head to clear it once you realize that you’ve been thinking so intently about past scenarios that the show on TV is almost done and another episode is about to start up. Christ.
You wish you could get to a point where they’d just not enter at all, anymore–these intrusive thoughts–but you’re just not there yet. They still somehow force their way inside.
But it's okay. The difference you’re seeing is in how quickly the thoughts are beginning to leave. They aren’t sticking around for so long anymore. You credit Sy with a majority of that.
And you also credit him for your sudden interest in Alaskan-fucking-jade-mining, of all things.
Ahead on the television, a giant pick-up truck is driving directly through a large river to get to a bypass road on the other side, and you’re so excited to get to zone out and watch these people arrive at their worksite that it takes several moments for you to notice your phone vibrating from your jeans.
After digging into your back pocket and turning down the volume on the television, you sit up and bring your phone to your ear. "Hey, Momma."
"Hey, Y/N/N," she greets you, and you realize that it’s been forever since you’ve actually heard her voice. “Just wanted to check in.”
"Yeah, I know it's been a while, sorry," you say. "Every time I think I get the chance to call, somethin’ seems to come up. Sorry. Busy time of year. Work and school...Same old stuff.”
She makes a sympathetic noise. "How's everything been goin'?" she asks.
Since she's asking about you instead of immediately venting about something going on in her own life, you give her an honest answer. You talk about work, about how you're down to just one job now. You talk about school and how you're down to just one more semester now, too.
And you talk a little about Sy.
You're cryptic to a degree, still downplaying your relationship, but you mention that she may be meeting him soon. Maybe.
“And you’re comin’ up when, again?” your mom clarifies. “Christmas Eve?”
“Oh, I’m gonna stay here for Christmas,” you mutter, “but I’ll be visitin’ probably the week after. Before New Year’s.”
“Alright,” she simply says, and you pick up a tiny sliver of guilt-tripping she wants to offer from that one word alone, but you close your eyes and count to three, letting the guilt you want to sit with escape. It’s your last Christmas holiday with Justine’s kids, and that’s sort of a big deal for you.
They’re the children here, not you. There’s no honest reason to visit your family on Christmas Day itself. Not when you can get together afterwards and have it still be entirely the same. There aren't any children up there to visit, anyway. They're all adults. They can get over it.
You dwell on your selfishness a little bit while your mother picks up the conversation and starts updating you on things going on with people you don’t really know. Are you being selfish? Or do you just feel like doing anything for yourself whatsoever automatically puts that label on you?
Well. You are inconveniencing people, which you absolutely hate. Your family wants to see you. Your grandma’s recently been hospitalized, and you hadn't visited for Thanksgiving like they wanted.
But then again, it’s your last Christmas with Justine’s kids. Your very last one. (And your first one with Sy, too…Not that it’s some huge thing for you two, but still…)
Okay, you’re overthinking again. You’re obviously overthinking. You’ve made your decision already. You’re going to Virginia after Christmas. It’s settled.
Now onto the next thing: Would Sy even want to come with you?
You don't think he'd mind. You think he'd actually like it, honestly. You'll ask him soon, feel him out. He'll either say yes or he'll say no. No big deal either way.
Your mom talks non-stop after that since you have nothing else to really discuss, but your mind wanders the entire time, anyway, imagining Sy being up in Virginia with you. You don't realize how long your mom has even been talking when the ongoing occupant of your thoughts loudly enters the house from the back door.
“Sonuva fuckin' bitch,” Sy's grumbling underneath his breath while heavily taking a seat at the kitchen table, and you sit up and come to alert with a gasp. His face is pinched and tight.
Fuck. His knee. Fuck, you knew it.
Worried, you quickly interrupt whatever your mom’s saying. "Hey, sorry, Momma, it was great talkin’ to you, but I gotta–I gotta go.”
You've just caught her in the middle of a sentence. "Oh–Okay. Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, it's all good," you stand up and say, but by the look on Sy's face, it's probably not. "I'll call you back later, okay? And I'll see you real soon. Love you."
"Love you!" you hear before you disconnect the call and toss your phone onto the couch.
You squint your eyes and take in the scene in the kitchen. While your mind has automatically gone towards Sy's knee, that's apparently not what's wrong at all. He's got his left hand laid out face-up on the table, and he’s actively digging what appears to be a pocket-knife into the center of his palm. As he groans and loudly drops the knife onto the table, you go to him.
“Oh, no, what’d you do?” you ask. “What’s wrong?”
He grumbles something while picking up the knife again, and his words are so low and jumbled together that you don't at first understand. It's not until you walk closer to him that his heavily accented sentence makes sense: He's got a thick, dark splinter in the middle of his left hand.
“Oh, shit,” you swear. “What happened?”
"Was messin’ with the brooder box without gloves on," he says from between his teeth.
You drop your mouth at the size and depth of the splinter, and you watch Sy sternly steel his jaw and cut around it precisely enough to have the end of the piece of wood stick out. When he starts actually pulling at it, your mouth drops even more as the sliver seems to never end.
“Je-sus,” you murmur, holding your stomach and grimacing along with Sy. “That thing’s freakin' huge!”
“Thank you,” he mutters, not seeming to be fazed by the size of the splinter nor at the small wound it’s left behind. If anything, pure relief covers his face once it's gone.
While you roll your eyes at him, he simply licks the end of his right thumb and slides it around his left palm where it's cut. Your grimace continues.
“Here…I–Lemme go get some peroxide or somethin’," you decide, and you quickly walk to the bathroom down by the laundry room.
"Don't know if I got any," Sy hollers out, and as you're already crouching to look underneath the bathroom sink, you figure he's right. The spot is bare, only one singular roll of toilet paper taking up any space at all.
You sigh. You seriously can't wait to eventually freshen things up in here a little bit. Put a little femininity in the house. An actual towel to dry your hands off with instead of paper towels—something.
You stand upright again, and in front of the mirror, you pause and then shake your head at yourself. What the fuck kind of a thought is that.
A thought that Sy should probably keep basic first aid items in his home, that's all. And items for guests. You swing open the closet door that’s behind the hallway door and find a few thin towels, some random tools, Aika’s old dog bowls, and a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol on a sticky-paper-lined shelf. Behind it is a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
"A-ha!" you let out, but when you grab the peroxide, you discover it's so nearly empty that it weighs next-to-nothing, though. You deflate. "Dammit, Sy…"
Regardless of its contents, you take the bottle into the kitchen, this time walking a little slower. There’s nothing upfrontly urgent about his hand, you remind yourself—or his knee. He’s fine.
Some weird déjà vu passes through you as you stand in front of the sink, and memories of another scene enters your mind. A kitchen that looks very similar to this one…a sink with a window above it facing the back yard…a door off to the left… Johnny’s farmhouse.
“Ah. Where it all began,” Sy murmurs, showing you he’s instantly matching your wavelength. “Peroxide at the sink.”
You pretend to sigh while you set the bottle of peroxide down and turn to the side to face Sy. “Could be a song title.”
"...Peroxide At The Sink?"
You nod and start singing twangy-sounding, fast-paced lyrics. "Where it all began…Peroxide at the sink…From a man who ran…into me after too much drink."
Sy gives your lyrics a thumbs-down gesture while you grin.
"Whatever. Song wouldn't work anyway," you say. “Everything began before the peroxide at the sink."
"How's that?"
You lean your hip against the counter. "You said you recognized me before that night and just didn’t tell me."
Sy nods once. He'd already admitted that to you in the shower. "I did," he affirms again.
"Watchin' me from across the road like a creeper," you continue to tease while turning to face the sink again, just waiting for him to get up and come to you, just beckoning him almost. You turn on the faucet and begin rinsing off the dishes inside.
You see Sy kick off his boots and lift his eyebrows from your peripheral vision. "I wasn’t creepin’.”
"Mmhm."
You think back to that night at Johnny’s bonfire. Where it all truly did begin. Where you and Sy had talked about Led Zeppelin for all of four minutes after you’d embarrassed yourself to hell by falling almost flat on your face. Now look at you. Here. In Sy's house. In Sy’s house, about to do the dishes like it’s your own space. With him. Really with him.
Your mind has been on overdrive literally all day, starting from the Christmas tree farm and lasting all the way through your recent conversation with your mom, but now it’s starting to slow down a little bit. Even if you weren’t actively flirting with Sy, you’d still feel at ease. He has a way of projecting this strange happiness onto you just by being in the room…some sort of all-over calmness that makes you feel comfortable in your own skin in a way you’re not used to…a goofiness, almost.
"Every breath you take," you quietly start to sing. You grab the dish soap and the brush and start scrubbing while going on, “Every move you make…”
Watching you from the kitchen chair, Sy leans back and widens his legs. "You been drinkin'?"
You laugh and look over at him. “No, why? Should I get a head-start?”
He smirks while sticking his tongue against the inside of his mouth, making his cheek stick out. “Go for it.”
Your happy face falls just a bit. You aren't going to start drinking this early or anything, but you still want to know: “You gonna drive tonight?”
“You know I’m gonna drive tonight,” Sy answers while finally standing, and you look down at your sudsy hands and smile. You knew it.
"And we're stayin' the night, right?"
"Mm. Johnny said we could crash there.” Sy approaches you from behind and puts his hands around your waist. “'Less you just wanna come on back home afterwards."
The word “home” does something to your insides, making them flutter, but so does the fact that Sy’s holding onto your hips while obviously smelling your hair. You currently don’t know how you’re feeling so many–things–while doing something as mundane as washing cups, but then again, yes you do. His body’s matched up to yours and he smells like the outdoors and he’s touching you without reservation. Even though he should honestly have no reason to really want to. Not after everything last night and this morning.
"Honestly, I think I'd like to just stay,” you let Sy know, naturally tilting your head to the side when he puts his chin on your shoulder. “But it's up to you."
His beard scratches your still-sore neck before you feel a more softer sensation from his mouth, right over the slightly sore area he’d given this same type of attention to last night. He pulls a patch of skin between his lips and gently sucks before releasing and asking in a low voice, “Stay where?”
"Uh." You take a second to think. “Stay…there. At their house.”
“Whatever you want,” he murmurs offhandedly.
You have to stop washing the dishes for a moment while Sy continues kissing your neck. Feeling totally enveloped, you grab the edge of the countertop and squeeze onto it while wasted water continues falling down from the faucet.
Your eyes slip shut. "We can–” You clear your throat. “We could stand by their sink and reminisce.”
Sy grunts, but it’s flirtatiously, and you bite your lip through a smile because–how have you come to recognize what a flirtatious grunt even sounds like?
Apparently you chuckle; a second later, Sy makes a questioning sound against your throat.
You let your head fall back onto his chest. “Of the time you spent stalkin’ me from your grandma’s house,” you whisper.
Warm air hits your skin after Sy chuckles. “I didn’t stalk you,” he maintains. As you turn off the faucet and turn around, he’s sure to clarify, “I watched.”
You give him a look. Without looking behind you, you reach backwards for the bottle of peroxide.
“Respectfully."
“You respectfully watched,” you repeat, flicking open the bottle’s cap with your thumb. With your other hand, you find Sy’s left hand and flip it palm-up.
“Yes.”
You mockingly nod and pour the few drops of peroxide left inside the bottle out onto Sy’s hand. The liquid barely bubbles. "With total respect."
"I did," he maintains.
You lift Sy’s hand to gently blow on the skin. "I'm sure."
In the stillness that follows, Sy gets serious. “You know I did,” he touches your forearm with his fingertips and says.
You find yourself suddenly staring up at him in some sort of suspension, eyes glued to his. “Did you, though?”
He closes his eyes briefly, and you watch him in curiosity. He’s usually forthcoming. “Did I what?”
“Watch respectfully,” you give. “You’re sayin’ there wasn’t any sort of disrespectful watchin’ happening?”
Briefly, Sy looks away with his head tilted to the side, and that gives you your answer. In victory, you point your finger into his chest.
“You so did not watch respectfully,” you state, almost in glee, but he just crosses his arms and moves to lean against the side of the counter.
“Ain’t my fault you kept wearin’ those damn short shorts all the time,” he gives.
“Ain’t my fault it was a hot summer,” you reply with a smirk and a shrug, still staring at Sy and waiting for him to look back at you.
But he doesn't, so you move to stand in front of him again.
“Daww, why’re you lookin’ away?” you tease, not used to being in this position. Not used to him being in this position. “‘Fraid your nobility’s finally in question?”
Sy gently grabs your elbow and pulls your entire body towards his. “Get in here and shutch’yer mouth,” he says.
You pretend to look intense while squinting your eyes. “Make me.”
As you continue to look up at him, still on a slight high from whatever this is you’re doing, your mouth slightly parts, and your excited face somewhat falls. What did you even say that for?
“I…don’t know why I said that,” you utter, trying to step back.
He holds onto you. “You sure about that?”
A heaviness sits in the air while you stare up at him and he stares down at you, and you’re careful with the breaths you take until you ultimately have to look away, not sure if you’re imagining this tension or if it’s real. Surely after last night and this morning, he wouldn’t…
When Sy presses his fingers into the sensitive spot by your stomach and hip, you instantly gasp and jerk away with a smile, the thick moment dissipating.
“I didn’t mean it, I didn't mean it,” you laugh while he tickles you again, and you simultaneously lean into his body while trying to break away from his touch.
"I didn't mean it," he copies you.
“Jerk,” you say just as he’s hooking his arm around you to pull you closer against his body again. “I really didn’t mean it.”
Sy moves hair away from your face to see you better, and after staring up at him again and offering him another grin, you nuzzle against his chest.
Even though you're entirely comfortable right now, a memory flashes into your mind–a scene from your old apartment in Virginia. The kitchen. A moment like this where you and your ex were playing around, happy. A pinch at the kitchen sink–too hard. Not welcome. It hurt.
In what you could only assume to be playful, Michael reached out and pinched the exposed skin of your arm as you were preparing to wash the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink. Instead of playfully pinching you, though, he ended up forcefully pulling your skin before quickly and tightly pressing down in a way that honestly burned.
Gasping in pain, you pulled back your arm while your knees slightly buckled. “Ow! Fuck, Michael!”
“Oh, that didn’t hurt,” Michael brushed off, almost chuckling, already on the other side of the kitchen.
“Yes, it did,” you rubbed your arm and sulked, honestly offended that he’d hurt you like that. It was totally unnecessary to be that rough.
“You’re fine,” he repeated with a smile in his voice.
“Because you have the same pain sensors as I do,” you muttered, and then Michael’s playful demeanor left.
He yanked a cabinet open. “God, you can be such a bitch sometimes, you know that?” he asked, and inwardly, you began retreating.
Raising his voice, he went on, “It was just a damn joke. I’m just tryin’ to have a little fun for once, and you’re here bein’ fuckin’ Debbie Downer. Like always.” He loudly shut the cabinet after pulling out a jar of peanut butter. "Because you have the same pain sensors as I do," he mocked you in a high-pitched voice, and all you could do was stare down into the kitchen sink, looking at all the dishes needing to be done.
God, you never made the right choice in things. Not ever. You never said the right thing, you never reacted in the right way. Everything always ended up to shit, all because you ruined them.
Maybe you could’ve pinched him back or something. Turned it into a pinching war. It could’ve been fun. You could’ve flirted or something. You could've been…better.
After carefully walking across the kitchen floor, you opened the refrigerator for two slices of bread, and quietly, without speaking whatsoever, you took the jar of peanut butter Michael had gotten out for himself and began to take over making his sandwich for him.
Back in the present, the feeling of ice water trickling from the stem of your brain and down your spine rushes through you quickly and all at once. Almost lost inside the memory and frozen in another time, you look up at Sy's face to ground you again.
The adoration you find there brings you to reality again. It actually takes you aback for a second, his unfiltered happiness at being close to you like this, verging on devotion, so you have to briefly look away. By the time you look back, his expression is unchanged, and you're finding yourself matching it once more.
You stay as you are for long moments that pass in silence, hugging Sy and letting the world go on around you. You don't know how you’re both able to say so much to one another without actually speaking, but you're grateful for it. You love him.
“You're sweet,” he eventually murmurs.
Your mouth moves against his shirt. “Sometimes.”
“Mm. All the time.”
The corner of your lip twitches. “Just to you.”
“Well, I’d hope just to me.”
Gradually, your smile grows. After finding his hands and squeezing them gently at the fingers, you take a tiny step back. You stand there playing with his calloused hands until finally getting the nerve to bring up a new topic.
"I was on the phone with my mom a few minutes ago," you carefully bring up while playing with Sy’s fingertips. “Before you gave birth to that splinter outta your palm.”
He makes a strange face at your choice of words which makes you laugh, but, knowing there's more you want to say, he raises his eyebrows.
“I’m gonna go visit sorta soon."
"Oh, yeah?"
You look to the side. “Mmhmm."
A few seconds pass. "When?"
"Oh. After Christmas."
He glances at you, still sensing you need time to say something more.
You do, and you still don't know if it's awesome or just plain sad that he's grown to understand that it takes time for you to word things.
"I…You totally don’t have to say yes," you quickly forewarn, "but if you wanna come with me when I go, you’re welcome to.”
With the smallest of smiles, Sy cocks his head to the side. “Is this you askin’?”
You shrug. You nod.
"Then count me in."
In relief, you smile. It slowly fades. “It’s nothin’ fancy where I’m from…I can’t really promise a whole lot of excitement or anything.”
Sy pauses and looks around the kitchen. Pointedly, he looks around, settling his gaze where there aren't cabinet doors at all underneath his sink. "And this is fancy?"
You nod. "It's bigger than any house I've ever lived in. It's nice."
He's quiet for a moment. "Glad you think so."
After a few more silent seconds pass, you force a chuckle. "Okay. You really don't have to tag along, though," you make sure to tell him. "I'll be goin' again in the spring if that's a better time."
Sy blankly stares at you, and you blink.
“...What?”
He tilts his head to the side and continues looking at you. Meaningfully. Speaking to you with the turn of his eyes, with the set of his lips.
"Oh." You swallow. "Am I…Am I doin' the thing?"
"If I say yes, I mean yes," he tells you, and you nod, letting go of his hands.
"Okay," you breathe out, then you clear your throat. “Okay. Got it. Cool.”
He gives you a minute and then asks, “You good?”
“Yep.” You nod, trying to stay casual, but there’s a weird excitement inside that you can’t help letting out by briefly grinning. “So, uh. I guess we probably oughta start gettin’ ready for tonight, huh?”
Sy pauses. “We gettin’ there early?”
You look at the clock on the stove. “No…I mean…I still gotta bake cookies and stuff, and I just…don’t wanna rush.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“What? I don’t like feeling rushed,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “Just 'cause it takes you, like, five minutes to get ready doesn’t mean it’s like that for everyone else,” you comment before walking through the kitchen. You hear Sy chuckle from behind as you approach the stairs.
Alone in Sy’s bedroom a few moments later, you get changed into a pair of black jeans, a thin turtleneck shirt, and your truthfully-very-ugly sweater that Amy loaned you. Sy begins to slowly come up the stairs right as you’re stepping into the bathroom, and after he goes into his bedroom, you hear him opening his dresser drawers through the bathroom wall. When you’re in the same position as you were this morning–barefoot in front of the mirror putting in a decent effort in making your face and hair look presentable--Sy's large presence suddenly takes up the entire doorway of the bathroom.
He actually casts a shadow in the bathroom from the way he suddenly blocks the hallway light, and while applying mascara, you continue looking straight ahead into the mirror, not able to stop yourself from smirking at how quickly he’s changed his clothes.
“Okay, so…In actuality, guess it only took you three minutes to get ready,” you say.
"I look alright?" he asks, and you chuckle without looking at him. The silence that ensues after that has you curiously turning your head, though, and you realize from his face he’s being serious. Showing a little vulnerability, he’s essentially asking you to give your opinion.
You put down your makeup, turn to the side, and check out his outfit. Despite it being December, he’s in a pair of khaki shorts, and you see he’s put on a knee-brace. He’s paired the chunky shorts with a forest green sweater depicting Santa Claus inside a large tank. As you examine it, he pulls at the bottom of it to show it off better.
“Merry Tankmas?” you ask while making a funny face, and almost with pride, Sy taps to the giant tank in the middle of his shirt.
“We used these in my unit.”
"Ah," you say in interest.
He lets go of his sweater. "Nice, huh?”
“It’s…Yeah,” you agree. “It looks…comfortable.”
He looks down at himself. “You callin’ it ugly?”
You let out a large laugh, bringing your thumb and your index finger close together by your face. “That’s the point, though,” you tell him, “so you did good.”
Even if it weren’t an Ugly Sweater party, though, Sy could somehow make the outfit look good. Even down to the matching green socks. His easy smile matches your own as he steps into the room and gets closer to you, naturally wrapping his arms around you and hooking them together at the curve of your lower back.
He slouches his shoulders in order to lean down and place his forehead against yours. “Can’t all be as good-lookin’ as you,” he says, and you half-groan.
“Oh, my God, stop.” So not true. You're literally wearing the tackiest sweater imaginable right now.
“What?” he seductively lowers his voice. “I can’t call my girl good-lookin’?”
You don't get how he can still look at you after last night and this morning and still feel like saying shit like this, and maybe you never will, but maybe that's okay–as long as you can try to keep reminding yourself that he does mean what he says. Sy means what he says, and he sees what he sees, and whatever he sees, he likes.
Slowly and with purpose, Sy kisses you. Not so slowly, he then hefts you onto the bathroom counter like you weigh nothing. You lower your hands to the countertop so you don’t fall, and he puts his hands on your knees to widen them a little. After extendedly hugging one another downstairs just literal minutes ago, this sort of extended close-contact is unexpected, but you still smile at him when he breaks away.
Instead of leaning back in to kiss you, Sy digs a hand into his front pocket. His forearm brushes your inner thigh as he clears his throat and says, “Gotchu somethin’.”
When he pulls out a small square box from his shorts, you just look down at it.
“It ain't what it looks like,” he says with a chuckle.
You just keep staring, and Sy shakes the box a little to signal you to accept it. “Oh,” you stutter, reaching out.
Slowly, you crack open the box, and whatever’s inside instantly shines. When two little stud earrings come into view, you don’t dare to even touch them. They’re small yet not too tiny, but they’re clearly diamonds, and…you’re hardwired to decline gifts like this. You set the box on your lap.
“Oh, wow…”
Sy remains silent, and so do you.
“These look really nice, Sy,” you eventually murmur.
After a long pause, Sy finally chuckles. “They’d look nicer if you put ‘em on.”
Almost shyly, you smile. “Oh.”
Feeling awkwardly watched for a moment, you finally reach out for the little diamonds and place them in your earlobes, then you twist around to look in the mirror again. The earrings are pretty but modest like you prefer, twinkling in the light from above the mirror. Even though you feel undeserving of the jewelry for some reason, your eyes give away your appreciation at the unexpected gift.
You move your hair from your face and give yourself one final look. “Well, thanks, Sy,” you softly murmur, actually feeling kind of pretty.
Behind his thick beard, you see the hint of a satisfied smile.
“And here I didn’t get you anything,” you say with a small pout. “I…didn’t know you were gonna…”
“My ears ain’t even pierced.” He shrugs.
You roll your eyes. “You’re so freakin’ corny.”
“Butchu love me.”
You reach out and wrap your index fingers into the belt loops of his khakis. Looking up at him, you murmur, “I do.”
Sy smiles. “Say the whole thing.”
“Huh?”
“Say you love me.”
You grin. “I love you,” you say, and though you’re totally happy, there’s another memory-flash from your ex that enters your head like static–“Tell me you love me,” he had once said, and it sounded like an order. Unpleasant. Threatening. You didn’t like it, so you’d paused, and your heart had sped up, and you put on a fake smile. And you said it.
This is different. This is different. Sy is completely different. Your smile is genuine now, and it only grows when witnessing Sy’s face in reaction to your words.
Still hating how you can't stop the intrusive thoughts occurring this afternoon, you push the old memory out of your head as quickly as possible. Maybe this is just your brain rewiring itself or something. Because what the fuck.
“Well, I love you, too, darlin’,” Sy says, and with a final long, drawn-out kiss, he steps aside so you can slide off the counter. He leans against the wall and casually crosses his arms, calmly watching you. You clear your throat.
It doesn’t take much longer for you to finish up. “Well, the hair is as good as it’s gonna get, I guess,” you eventually murmur into the mirror.
From the side of your eye, you watch Sy begin to rub his head. “You think I should do somethin’ with mine?”
“Oh, good Lord. Are you gonna do the dad jokes this entire night?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from laughing. “Should I prepare myself now?”
“Long as you keep laughin’, I will.”
Just looking over and seeing the mischievousness in his eyes has you laughing all over again.
“Good to know,” you say, but even just responding with those three words has you giggling even more. Just–Sy’s in a good mood.
You bet it was the Tylenol and singular drop of hydrogen peroxide you helped him out with. Look at you, mending his ailments left and right. Excellent girlfriend material.
…Are you, though? You’ve literally never thought of yourself like that before. But now…Now you feel like you may be. Now you feel important. You feel special. You were given casual diamond earrings–just because. And you accepted them without fussing that you don’t deserve them. You…You sort of feel like you do deserve them. That you deserve nice things. And it’s enough to make your eyes start to sting from the sheer expansiveness of the happiness taking up your body. The past twenty-four hours have been…a lot. In a good way.
“I think I–” You clear your throat. “I’m all done gettin’ ready now. I’m gonna–I’m gonna go bake the cookies now and then we’ll have time to chill a little.”
With a casual touch on your hip, Sy steps aside to let you walk past him. You’re able to collect yourself to a more appropriately-calm state of mind by the time you enter the kitchen again, and when Sy steps into the room a few moments after you do, he smells like cologne he didn’t smell like before.
The next half hour is spent listening to Christmas music and sharing more stupid banter–you making fun of Sy’s loud kitchen mixer and old half-peeling oven trays and him, in turn, making fun of how sloppy your cookie batter ends up. Through your laughter, you manipulate the sticky balls of dough as best as you can to try to make shapes that are somewhat circular, and in the end, you chalk it up to a success.
“I’m a better cook than I am a baker, alright?” you tell him while he stares at what you’re doing with an eyebrow raised.
“Babe, you ain't even got to the bakin’ part yet.”
You push at the brick-wall of Sy’s arm before placing the baking sheet into the oven. “Shut up.”
While staring into the oven, another memory hits your face along with the heat of the coils inside.
You walked into the apartment to discover the scent of food already being cooked, and in pleasant confusion, you stepped into the kitchen with your plastic grocery bags of taco fixings.
“Hey,” you greeted him, and–
“Hey,” he greeted you back.
“I thought you said you wanted tacos,” you pondered in slight confusion.
He'd shaken his head. “The chicken's gonna go bad.”
You blinked a few times at your bad memory. You could’ve sworn asking him last night what he wanted for dinner and him suggesting you get “taco stuff” from the store–which always meant actual ground beef for him since you couldn’t eat it and never had it on hand. You could’ve sworn that he had even said something about it being Taco Tuesday.
“Oh, okay. So we’re gonna do chicken tacos instead?” you asked, now a bit more excited than confused.
“I got all these leftovers at this work luncheon today,” he answered while shaking his head. “Let’s just eat that. Already heatin’ it up.”
You stuffed all the groceries into the refrigerator while hiding the disappointment on your face. “So did you wanna eat tacos tomorrow for dinner since I bought all the stuff?”
“I don’t know, damn,” he said, his voice getting a weird, irritated edge to it. “We can make it literally any other night this week. Just chill.”
“I was just…asking,” you mumbled in confusion again, and because your comment meant that you were now perceived to be In A Mood, you tried your hardest to make nice conversation while watching television on the couch, a plate of leftovers on your lap.
“It’d be fun to cook for more people every now and then,” you tried making conversation. “Don’t you think?”
Sitting on the chair next to the couch, he asked with his mouth full of food, “Whatchu mean?”
“Like, maybe have friends over one night or somethin’. For dinner.”
“What, you tryin’ to get with my friends?” he joked, and you paused and looked at him strangely. What a weird thing to ask.
“No,” you slowly answered. “Just to, like, get to know people more. Other couples. Or some people in my classes or whatever. Socialize. I don’t–”
“Don’t what?”
You shrugged. Saying “I don’t have that many friends” would just sound pathetic, so you stuck with just telling him, “I don’t ever cook for anyone besides just us. Thought it’d…be fun.”
“What, me alone ain’t good enough for you anymore?”
You smiled a little to hopefully express you weren’t being anything but light and conversational, but inside you were jittering. “Oh, shut up," you joked. "I didn’t say that. It’d just be nice.”
“Okay…”
He was treating you like it was such a weird suggestion. You guessed it really was, because the topic never came up again.
You have to loudly remind yourself internally–That's the past, and this is the present. That was then, this is now. You’re having a great day, it’s been a great day, and your brain needs to stop with this weird flashback shit.
Sy helps. He hugs you from behind for a little while with his hands on your hips, and a few Christmas-songs-on-the-radio later, the cookies are finished. They end up…edible-looking. Even though you’ve turned the entire baking sheet into a glob of dough so giant that the shape of individual cookies is barely discernible.
“These can just be the back-of-the-table cookies,” you decide after using a spatula to separate the cookies into something resembling circles. Sighing in defeat, you're surprised when Sy picks one up after it cools and takes a giant bite. He shows you he obviously likes it by immediately finishing it instead of spitting it out.
“...Verdict?”
“They might look like shit, but they taste great,” he says with his mouth full.
You drop your mouth at his bluntness, causing him to just smirk until he finishes chewing.
You stick out your tongue. “Well, thanks for your honesty.”
“Wouldn’t ever lie to you,” he says, reiterating what he’d finally gotten you to understand this morning.
Still– “Not even about hatin’ the tree I chose today?” you tease.
He snaps his fingers. “Oh, shit, that reminds me,” he mutters, and then he begins walking to the back door. Over his shoulder, he goes on, “Got somethin’ I wanted to show you,” and then, after opening the door, he’s gone.
You slowly walk to the door and curiously wait for him to come back, and when he does, he’s got a small tree-stump in his hand. It’s about three inches tall and probably about the same width. In the very middle of it is a small section where he’d apparently drilled into. You stare at it for a few seconds, not putting together what exactly he’s trying to show you.
“Sorry, but…What is this?”
He looks down at the stump then back up at you. “Somethin’ to put the Christmas tree in.”
You look back at the stump and gasp. “That's perfect!”
Without asking, you take the little piece of wood from Sy and hurry into the living room with it. The stump is entirely level at the bottom, so when you place the small Christmas tree in the middle of it, it doesn’t tilt. And it matches. Almost like a continual tree.
“I can’t believe you just–did this so quickly,” you look back at Sy and enthuse.
He shrugs. “Ain’t nothin’ but a tree stump I drilled a hole into.”
You look down in curiosity. “Yeah, but there’s, like, somethin’ else in the hole, too.”
“PVC pipe. To keep it from rottin’ after water’s in there,” Sy explains.
“Where’d you even get that from?”
“Out in the garage.”
“...And you cut it to fit into this hole you drilled?”
Sy nods.
“Damn, Sy.”
“Ain't really that biguva–”
“Jeez, just accept the praise,” you interrupt playfully. “So–we've got to decorate now.”
“Oh, we got to?” he mocks.
You nod your head. “’Cause this just looks awesome,” you say again, unable to stop staring at the tree. “This is, like, some Pinterest-level shit.”
He laughs. “Didn't know it’d impress you so much.”
You pause. With a soft voice, you murmur, “You always do.”
Sy reaches out with his thumb and slides it across your cheekbone. You duck your head.
In the end, the little tree holds a total of seven carefully-selected ornaments. Lightweight enough that the branches don’t break, the lucky selections include an Army logo, a handmade snowman with one of Sy’s nephew’s handprints on it, and a tiny circular picture of Sy’s parents.
The next time you come over, you’ll still bring lights. Then you’ll bring a tablecloth to bunch up underneath the tree. You’ll tie a ribbon around the top. You’ll get gaudy tinsel. You’ll do all of it. And it’ll look so freaking cute.
“Y/N,” Sy says from your side, and you jerk your head at him. That tone of voice means he’s probably already been trying to get your attention but you’ve been zoning out.
“Sorry,” you apologize, lifting your eyebrows. “What?”
Sy chuckles at you. “All day…You keep starin’ at this damn tree like you’re lookin’ at–”
You pause. “Like what?”
“The look in your eye…. It’s like you’re lookin’ at a–baby or somethin’.”
“Well.” You smile and turn back to the tree. “It looks nice. And I like it.”
Sy stands by your side staring at the tree for a while, too. You’re expecting some cheesy comment like he’s been doing all afternoon– “Not as nice as you” –but he remains silent. In the dim sound of the radio playing Nat King Cole from the kitchen, it’s comfortable.
It’s the first tree in this place in two years.
As you slowly stretch, Sy bends over to pick up the box of unused ornaments. “I can do that,” you stop him.
Sy pauses and stands upright. “My knee’s fine,” he points out.
“Yeah, ‘cause you put a brace on,” you challenge him, picking up the box and going to the staircase before he can interject. “You need to rest it.”
In less than a minute, you take the box to the spare room upstairs and then rush back down to join Sy on the couch. Naturally, he’s on the left side of the sofa leaning back with his legs spread, and naturally, you fit into the spot directly next to him. After squirming around to find your phone that’s been neglected all afternoon and checking any notifications you may have missed–none–you eventually decide to put your head on one of Sy’s giant legs, staring out at the show on the History Channel he’s just turned on.
Immediately, his calloused right hand finds its way onto the back of your head. After touching your ear and feeling the new jewelry there, he lowers his fingers and begins to gently and absentmindedly rub your shoulder. At that, you let out a long groan.
Sy pauses. “You sore?”
You nod against his khakis. “After last night, I’m literally sore all over,” you admit.
“From what?”
“What d’you mean ‘from what’?” you close your eyes and mutter, and he chuckles.
“Ah, c’mon now. I gotta getchu in better shape then,” he jokes, and you open your eyes again just to narrow them even though he can’t see.
“You shut up.”
He pinches your shoulder before going back to kneading your muscle. “Y’know, I do need me a workout partner,” he says seriously. “You should consider it.”
After a few minutes of indulging in Sy rubbing your shoulder and the show on television, you eventually sit up and tilt your head in consideration. Sy’s hand naturally slips off your arm to rest down by your hip. “One of my resolutions for the new year was gonna be to start exercising more,” you say. “Healthy living and all that…”
All he does is look at you, and you’re already pointing your finger at him. “But nothin’ crazy. I’m not gonna be, like, flippin’ tires through the woods with you and shit.”
He winks with both eyes. “Ah, too bad, darlin’. That’s my favorite workout.”
“You got jokes and jokes today.” An exasperated look spreads over your face while you settle backwards against the cushions. When you look at Sy from the side of your eye, you find his own eyes bright. It’s enough to have you smiling despite trying to keep yourself from doing so.
You settle against Sy’s side after he lifts his arm a bit and casually places it around your shoulder. “This guy’s voice on TV is gonna make me wanna take a nap,” you murmur, closing your eyes while the British narrator relays information about different military uniforms through the centuries.
“So take a nap.”
You fake-whine. “But then I’m not gonna wanna wake up.”
Sy grunts. “I’ll find one’a them true crime documentaries you’re always watchin’ to keep you alert, then.”
You open your eyes again. “Ha, ha.”
“Well, we could always do somethin’ else that would keep ya awake.”
You wait for his suggestion, but it doesn’t come. While he trails two of his fingers across your shoulder, you look over at him to find a certain look on his face, almost like he could wag his eyebrows any second, and you simply blink. You’d just told him you’re sore, but it’s more than just your muscles that are sore. Like, everything is sore. And after last night and this morning… You’re still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that Sy could still be–that he could still possibly want–
“Um. I'm–” You look down. “I mean, you're–”
He nudges you with his knee. “That was supposed to be a joke.”
“Oh.” Of course it was. Now you feel stupid.
In the silence that ensues, you’re awkward and you know you’re awkward, so Sy nudges you again with the arm wrapped around you. “Y/N,” he says. “Look at me.”
You reluctantly look up. When you do, Sy’s face is strangely serious.
“I know I’ve been teasin’ today, but I wouldn’t ever make fun of you in a mean way. I ain’t tryin’ to embarrass you here.”
You shake your head. “Oh, it’s totally–That's not–You didn't. You weren’t.”
He watches your face for a minute, and then ultimately, he frowns. “Your face changed. I crossed a line somehow.”
Quickly, you shake your head again. “You really didn’t. I promise. It’s really not you, it’s me.”
Sy scratches his beard while watching you curiously. You can tell he wants to speak, but you go first.
“You didn’t do anything–seriously. I’m so sorry. I know we’ve already talked about this already–like, a little bit just as recently as this morning–and it's not that I don't believe you, I promise, but it's harder than I thought it'd be for me to, like, re-learn certain things. So the things that you say…it takes time for everything to actually stick. In my brain. It’s not that I don’t believe you, though. That’s not…That’s not the problem.”
“Okay,” he answers slowly. “...But what is it you’re actually talkin’ about?”
“That–” Ugh, it’s so hard to talk about sex out loud. Openly. “You just suggested…you know. And I…I keep thinking that if I say no that you'll be mad at me or something,” you admit.
Sy inhales roughly, and you look down at your lap.
Man. You really didn't want to ruin the day. For the second time. It’d been going so nice.
Sy pulls you into his side more closely. “I told you. Only thing I'm ever mad at when it comes to you are the people who've made you think that way in the first place.”
Slowly, you nod. “Yeah.” He’d said that before. He says the same things a lot.
You say the same things a lot. It must be exhausting being with you.
“So if I'm ever comin’ on too strong–”
“You're not,” you interrupt. “You weren't.”
Gently, Sy smiles. “But if I ever am,” he goes on, “you just tell me to lay off.”
With a stupidly-small sounding voice, you answer, “Okay.”
It takes a few moments, but after too much silence goes on, Sy finally asks, “What’re you thinkin’?”
“That you’re still somehow gonna get offended or mad if I do that,” you answer straight-away, wincing and squeezing your eyes shut.
“We’re shuttin’ that down,” Sy says. “It won’t happen. It won’t ever happen.”
“Okay.”
“Got it?”
You clear your throat awkwardly and give a tight nod. You blankly stare ahead at the television while lost in thought, and you feel the power of Sy’s attention on you almost the entire time. When you finally turn your face to look at him again, he’s got his eyes on yours already.
“Um,” you begin.
Sy patiently lifts his eyebrows.
“Let’s just say I–Let’s just say you weren’t kidding,” you mutter. “And that–” You start picking at the skin around your thumbnail.
“Just me here,” he reminds you.
“Right, sorry,” you say. “I mean–No, I’m not. I’m not sorry.” You smile. “Okay, let me try this again. Let’s just say that you weren’t actually kidding…” You trail off, trying to put words to your thoughts.
“...I didn’t have to be just kidding,” Sy eventually says, a bit confused.
Your face twists in its own confusion. “See, that’s the thing. If I had said ‘sure’ just now, you’d really…Like, you’d really actually want to?”
Sy looks to the side. “...Yeah?”
“Like, you’d really sincerely want to?”
“Baby, yeah,” he says again, this time with a mix of confusion and emphasis lacing his deep voice. “I mean, it’s you we’re talkin’ ‘bout…”
Sitting entirely still, you just blink while taking in that statement.
“I can usually…” Sy sighs. “I can usually get where you’re goin’ with stuff, Y/N, but I gotta admit…I’m havin’ a hard time understandin’ what the problem is.”
“There isn’t a problem,” you shake your head and genuinely tell him.
“Okay,” Sy slowly says. But he’s still confused. And you don’t blame him. “So you know that you can always say no to me,” he summarizes.
“Right.” You nod. You do know that. And you will eventually get yourself to the point where you intrinsically believe it without doubt.
“And now you know that…you can also say yes to me,” he goes on, “and that I’d be entirely fine with that, too.”
There’s a joke he’s trying to make with that, his voice a little lighter, and you understand how stupid it all seems, but something about it just isn’t–you just can’t comprehend it.
“What am I missin’, Y/N?” Sy asks.
You take a deep breath. “After last night, and then this morning…And you–And you’ve kissed and hugged me a lot today, too…” You finish with a shrug.
His eyes turn hawk-like. “You’re thinkin’ I’m some kinda nympho or somethin’, ain’tchu?”
You could almost laugh. “That’s not at all what I was thinkin’.”
“Then what?”
Again, you shrug. “That, like…I just don’t get it. I don’t see how you could still have any sort of desire after…” You clear your throat. Fuck, you’re weird. “How you could even still want to…touch me or kiss me so much or to do…anything.”
Sy’s eyebrows meet. He hears what you say, and he listens, and he must replay it in his head, because then he’s taking a sharp inhale, and then he’s removing his arm from your shoulder, and then he’s lifting both his hands to his face, and then he’s dragging them down his cheeks.
You close your eyes. You make yourself open them. “Did that make you mad?”
Sy wraps his arm around your shoulder again. “You haven’t made me mad,” he says. “I want you to–” He sighs. “I'm glad when you communicate.”
You nod. “...So that was okay? That I said that?”
“All you did was speak your mind. Which I always wantchu to do.”
You hate that you need so much reassurance, but– “Even if it makes you mad?”
“I’m not try’na make this about me,” he quietly says. “It ain’t about me.”
You don’t know what that means. “Oh,” you utter.
“No–Not like that. You just don’t need to be worryin’ about my reaction when–” Sy takes a deep breath, and a long, controlled exhale. “You don’t make me mad when you say things. It’s the things you actually say that…I just…I’ve gotta learn to get ahold of my temper. Which I will.”
“But…What are you mad at if you’re not mad at me?” you slowly ask.
Sy removes his arm from your shoulder in favor of placing both of his elbows on his knees. “You don’t even see–It doesn’t even occur to you, does it?”
You swallow. You feel dumb. “I’m sorry, but I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve spent so much time with–” He sighs, sits upright again, and fixes his knee-brace where he’d messed it up. “How many relationships were you actually in again?”
You look down. “Officially? Two.”
“That's what I thought,” Sy mutters. “Okay.”
You hesitate. “Why?” you ask. “What’s on your mind?”
“You don’t wanna know.”
“I do,” you answer.
Sy side-eyes you. “You seriously don’t.”
“Why did you ask that?” you try again. “About my exes.”
“Because they’re human pieces of shit,” Sy seethes, “and I get that you’re still not ready to talk about everything, but the intel I’ve gathered from what you have already let out…” His nostrils flare.
“I…”
Slowly, you shake your head. Earlier today, you’d already had a conversation about your previous relationships in the spare bedroom upstairs with Sy. Well, as much as you were able to. Ever since Sy had said you’ve been brainwashed, you’ve literally been oscillating between past and present non-stop, old memories popping up like sharp, unpleasant zaps in your mind.
But–“That wasn’t about–I was just making a general statement.”
Sy tilts his head to the side. “What was your general statement?”
“That, like…That it’s just hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that you’d want to keep kissing me and…that you’d maybe even want other stuff.” You shrug. “After what we’ve already done. Recently.”
“Because it doesn’t make sense to kiss my girlfriend so soon after already taking what I really want from her,” he replies.
“Right,” you answer, and then you whip your head over to look at his face. Those words don’t sound right coming out of his mouth. “Wait.”
Sy's face almost looks sick. “Are you hearin’ how that sounds?”
“But–” Your mouth parts. “That’s not what I meant, though.”
He lifts an eyebrow, and suddenly, your eyes can’t focus. “I…”
Another sharp, zapping memory assaults you.
“Headache?” Michael asked with his hand under your shirt, and you paused, opening your eyes. They instantly furrowed into a slight scowl as you stared at the wall, hidden from your boyfriend as he lay behind you in bed plastered like a barnacle to your back.
You were grouchy. It was your birthday, but you were grouchy as hell.
It was a school night. You’d already been in class all day long, trying to stay as alert as possible so you could succeed in meeting your goal of finally increasing your GPA a little. You then worked a half-shift at the grocery store where you handled dirty cans of vegetables and wet produce items and heavy cases of beer and laundry detergent and dog food for five hours straight. You then made it home in the rain where, upon entering the apartment, you had to instantly muster up energy that didn’t exist in order to cook for yourself and Michael. You were tired.
And tomorrow, you just had to do everything all over again.
“‘M just tired,” you honestly whispered, already close to drifting off with your head on the pillow, and then you felt Michael’s hand under your shirt grab one of your boobs and shake there, almost like he was attempting to wake you up.
“C’mon, Y/N,” he said into your ear. “It’s your birthday.”
You yawned. “Yeah, but we were gonna do somethin’ this weekend,” you reminded him in a drowsy mumble. “I got class and work all week.”
“But it’s your birthday,” Michael repeated, and silently, so that he couldn’t hear it or even feel it with how his hand was so close to your chest, you inhaled.
You knew what he meant now.
You knew what he meant now, and you’d be letting him down if you shook him off and denied him. Not when he’d gotten you birthday flowers.
Wrapped in cellophane on the kitchen table when you came home, they were kind of ugly, like the petals had already wilted or something, but it was still a nice gesture for him to’ve done. Especially because he didn’t have a lot of money. Of course, he probably spent the money on them in the first place to get you to have sex with him, honestly, but–
But, no. That’s a weird thought to have. He was your boyfriend. That’s what couples do together–they…Birthday sex. There’s even a song out there about it.
If you said no, then that would cause him to pester you about it, and then that would either lead to you getting pissed off that he won’t drop it when you were clearly tired and not into it right now, which would cause a big argument, or it’d lead to you just giving in to his persistence and conceding in order to save all the energy that arguing would inevitably expend.
You took another deep breath and then rolled over in bed.
Without preamble, you’re being shaken from your thoughts and immediately pulled into the warmth of Sy’s side again. “C’mere.”
The sheer number of groundbreaking conversations with this man over the past twenty-four hours…Even the past four hours…You’re reeling.
You–You guess you really have been brainwashed.
After continuously being subjected to unpredictable behavior for so long–by so many different people in your life–you’ve had to protect yourself by constantly reading the play ahead of time. By over-thinking and over-analyzing and over-compensating and over-apologizing. And just not doing those things or thinking those things anymore takes time. It takes rewiring.
It really does feel like your head is full of a million crossed wires, and as you’re slowly learning normality with Sy, one individual wire breaks and makes an attachment somewhere else, a joining that only fuses after weeks and weeks of reassurance and witnessing consistent patterns. And then another wire breaks and meshes somewhere else after a few more weeks. And then another. And another.
But where does that leave you? Forever a work in progress?
“None of it was your fault, you know,” Sy’s chest reverberates against your cheek while he speaks, and there’s a confidence and finality to his words despite them still sounding so illicit to your ears.
“I…” Your fingers twitch against the fibers of his sweater. You can’t. You can’t talk about this.
Not just because it’s talking about sex out loud, but it’s because it’s talking about your fucked up past and how Sy should never have to deal with the repercussions of choosing you to date but how you’re so, so happy that he sees something in you worth staying for despite it all.
Sy doesn't speak after that, just puts a hand over your hair and holds you, and you let him. “Thank you,” you finally whisper. Because that’s all you know how to respond with.
Eventually, you sit up and dab the side of your right eye with the pad of your finger.
“We can prob'ly make it through one more show before we gotta leave,” you suggest, picking up the conversation from earlier about how the current show on the History Channel is going to put you to sleep.
After you steal the remote from the side of Sy’s leg, he mumbles, “Woman,” and you just smile at him–a little to thank him for consoling you just now, a little to convey to him that you’re fine.
He relaxes once you settle on an episode of Alaskan Jade Mining instead of The First 48.
“The plant's in jeopardy of shuttin’ down,” you catch him up while leaning against his side again and staring ahead at the TV.
“What'd that dumbass do now?” Sy mutters.
“The land he threw all that money into is yielding, like, no results. The entire crew’s overworked and fed up. Then they hired some new chick that doesn’t have any experience and it’s taking extra time to train her.”
Sy grunts, and that leads into the two of you mindlessly binging the show.
“I'm lookin’ forward to meetin’ some more of your friends tonight,” you say during a commercial, then you instantly think that's so stupid to just mindlessly say like that–he's going to think you're interested in them or something…
No, he won’t.
“Lookin’ forward to it, too,” he just replies.
You exhale. “Who’s comin’ tonight, anyway?” you ask. “Did you ever figure out if Johnny got in touch with anyone from the Army like you said he was tryin’ to do?”
“Nah,” he answers. “We’ll just find out when we get there. Johnny’s been more concerned with–”
You raise your eyebrows.
“Everything in general, I guess,” Sy finishes. “Food and drinks, shit like that. Said they're doin’ some drink station in the kitchen or somethin’.”
You turn to look straight ahead again. “Ooh, that'll be fun.”
“Mm.”
After the TV show is over, ending with drama from an impending storm on the horizon, you gently slap your legs with your hands. “You wanna go ahead and leave?”
Sy looks at his watch. “Sure,” he shrugs. “Or we could stay here for another episode.”
You grin. “I knew you’d get hooked if I put it on.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Easily, Sy smiles, and you briefly glance at his teeth before looking back up at his eyes. “We could be a little late to the party. Ain’t like they’re gonna be missin’ us none.”
“Maybe they won’t miss you, but they’ll miss me,” you stand up and say, and it takes Sy a second, but he finally smiles at your delivery, standing up with a grunt and a playful ass-pinch.
Sy clicks off the television and starts following you into the kitchen. “‘Course they will,” he agrees.
While you pack up your ugly Christmas cookies to match your ugly Christmas sweater, you watch Sy step his feet into his old discarded boots by the kitchen table and then open the refrigerator. He pulls out two cases of alcohol–Bud Light beer for himself and Bud Light seltzers for you.
Quietly, you assess him. He's always just so good at reading you, and reassuring you, and complimenting you, and making you laugh, and making you happy. He’s also so handsome you can’t stand it.
“Hey,” you quietly say, and he closes the fridge and looks over at you.
“Hey, yourself.”
“I never told you…” You look at him head-to-toe. “You look nice tonight.”
Sy smiles. “You admittin’ you like the sweater?”
“I like all of it,” you say–which is true. The sweater, the socks, even the khaki shorts in December. “You look good.”
Sy holds your gaze for one long, charged minute. “So do you.”
You hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. “But I’m talking about you,” you say. “You look nice.”
The satisfaction in his eyes is evident even though he doesn’t respond. After pushing yourself up on your tip-toes to kiss his scruffy cheek, you take your case of seltzer out of his grip, put your container of cookies on top of it, and then begin walking down the hall to put your shoes on by the front door. By the time Sy meets you there, he’s not only carrying his case of beer anymore: he’s got a broom, too.
There’s some shuffling around while you two put your jackets on, and then Sy locks the front door and holds the broom out like a metal-detector on the way to his truck. Immediately, his rooster comes from out of literally nowhere, going from zero speed to full force with one singular goal in mind, but Sy sweeps the broom at him before he can bite at his calves.
By the time you make it into the cab of his truck, you don’t think you’ll ever stop laughing.
"God, he's such a fuckin' dick," Sy just grumbles next to you a few minutes later, and then he sticks his keys in the ignition and revs his engine.
Exactly like you’d done earlier this morning, you place your hands out to the air vents to warm them up before reaching out to change the radio station. When a very country version of Two-Step ‘Round the Christmas Tree begins playing, you turn it up and start tapping your legs playfully.
Sy gives you a look. "Abso-fuckin'-lutely not."
You let out a loud laugh that has Sy scrunching his eyebrows funnily, and you have to clear your throat. "Sorry," you say while changing the radio station. "I'm good."
"Are you, now?"
For no reason, you laugh again, ending it with a nod. "That rooster, Sy...I can’t."
“Glad I can offer you some entertainment,” he mutters, which may have sounded passive-aggressive coming from anybody else’s mouth but his, but from him, there’s no bite to his words.
Sy lets out a small head-shake and smile that’s honestly adorable before he drops his right hand from the steering wheel to rest in the middle seat. Naturally, you reach your own hand out to meet his, and then he begins driving down the lane.
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
Walter opens the door and you back out its way. You shiver, and hug yourself, the rain seeping into your flesh. He keeps his hand against the door and ushers you inside quietly. You shuffle through as the fabric of your shirt clings to your skin.
“What are you doing?” He asks at last.
You stand on the mat as he backs up, easing the door back into the frame behind you. You look down at yourself, then him.
“I don’t know,” you wisp.
“You’re going to make yourself sick running around in this,” he says.
“I– I know, but… I have to talk to you,” you insist and a ripple shakes you.
“Come on,” he presses a hand to your back, urging you further inside, “let’s get you warmed up.”
“I’m f-fine,” you argue.
He just grunts and keeps going, taking you into the front room. He leaves you standing on a thick rug as he disappears. He comes back to you with a towel and a boxy space heater. He hands the former to you and plugs the latter into the wall, aiming it directly at you. You thank him for the towel and pat your face dry.
He leaves again as you try to sop up the rain from your clothing. He returns again and offers a flannel shirt. You accept it with another chattering thank you.
“I’ll put some tea on,” he says, “then you can say what you need to.”
“Oka–” a clap of thunder interrupts you. You jump and let out a frightful squeak.
“You’re lucky you beat the worst of it,” he reprimands, a lingering reproachful look before he turns.
You watch him once more pass through the oaken door frame. You slowly take in your surroundings. The place is pretty small. Modest by any means. You step closer to the heater and lay down the flannel shirt by your feet. You strip away your wet clothing and pull on the thick button-up that hangs loosely around your figure, nearly to your knees.
You gather up your former outfit, spreading out the layers atop each other. The sound of Walter tinkering around in the kitchen jars you. All your thoughts scramble as you try to untangle what you want to say. What do you want to say?
You sit on your knees and rub your hands together and hold them out to the heater. Lightning flashes between the curtains and another peel of thunder shakes the earth. Walter comes back with a single mug and hands it to you.
He picks up your clothes and you watch him drape them over the back of a wooden chair to dry. He paces behind the threadbare sofa as you look down into the steaming cup. It’s too hot to taste yet.
“So…” he begins with a heave.
“Walt, I…” you wet your lips, “I…” your chest throbs as you struggle to find your words. He crosses his arms, making himself seem even bigger. It’s not lost on you that you’re on your knees, ready to beg. “I was surprised…” you say carefully and his brows furrow, “when you kissed me.”
His cheek ticks and his nostrils flare. He stares you down unflinchingly. You gulp and place the tea down on the floor. You’re already sweating from trying to sort this all out. Why hadn’t you thought of what to say?
“And I didn’t know how to react,” you continue, running your hands along the fabric over your thighs, “so I ran away and I’m sorry. I… I should’ve been honest.”
“You came all this way to reject me,” he challenges bluntly.
“No,” you murmur, “I didn’t–” you pause as the wind whips outside the walls, “I just never expected you to… feel that way about me.”
“Hm,” he rumbles as his expression remains stony.
“Or that…” you weigh your words before you let them free, “I could feel the same?”
His eyes narrow, “you don’t sound like it.”
“I’m saying… I could try,” you fold your hands together, “I want to try.”
“Try?” He growls.
“Please, you have to understand, there’s a lot going on. My dad, the farm–”
“Oh, I know,” he steps around the couch, looming over you. He steps closer and bends his knees, squatting until he looks you straight in the eyes, “do you think I really did it for him?”
You search his face, trying to discern the tides in irises, the tension in his jaw. Your chest flutters as his words sink in.
“I did, Walt, because you’re a good guy,” you eke out.
“If you think so, you don’t show it.”
His coldness jars you. You’re trying. You don’t know how to convince him but you know you have to.
“I do,” you bring your hands up, “Walt, I know you are. I see it–”
“You want the farm and I’m the only way for you to keep it,” he sniffs, “I know why you’re here.”
You look down in defeat and shame. You won’t lie and say he’s not right but you had to try. You’ll just have to go home and tell your mom it didn’t work. She was wrong.
“Why would I buy a farm to keep a family that isn’t mine?” He reaches and cups your chin, forcing your head up, “seems a bit… illogical, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” you sniffle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”
“But if it were my family,” he cuts you off, his hand firmly framing your chin, “then maybe it would make sense.”
Your breath catches in your chest and your lashes flutter. Does he mean…
“I could be a good husband. You’ve seen that,” he says, “can you be a good wife?”
The icy chill flows back into you. Having it put so plainly is startling. You feel so young to be signing away your life, but you won’t have much of one without the farm; without your family. You unclasp your hands and touch Walter’s wrist.
♕ Female reader insert and OFC-centered. (Summaries and warnings included.)
♛ 18+ Please respect the authors' wishes regarding interactions.
♕ Henry Cavill. Captain Syverson. Geralt of Rivia. August Walker. Walter Marshall. Sherlock Holmes. Clark Kent. Napoleon Solo. Charles Brandon. Hellraiser!Mike
♛ Heed the warnings. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.
⚠️ Support writers. Do not forget to comment/reblog these stories. ⚠️
— ✩ Hall Pass [❣ ֍] (complete series) by @deandoesthingstome
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: You run into Henry Cavill at the start of a two-week house-sitting vacation. You had some previous plans. Some were ruined by your now ex-boyfriend. Some were made better. Guess by whom? See also: this ask
❥ Warnings: 18+ - RPF, this whole thing is just self-indulgent smutty fluff. Here’s what I offer: meeting, making out, and having sex with Henry Cavill.
— ✩ Dirty & Sticky Sweet [❣ ֍] by @thelastsock
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Warnings: mostly just sexy fluff, alludes to sex
— Yield [❣] by @winter2112rose
❥ Pairing: unnamed OFC
❥ Summary: it’s sword fighting training day on the set of The Witcher and Henry meets his match in his new co-star.
❥ Warnings: none.
— Home at Last [֍] by @kittenofdoomage
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Henry returns home from filming and the first thing he wants is you.
— A Pup's Commendation [❣] by @inlovewithhisblueeyes
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Warnings: RPF, mentions of pets being stressed out, fluffy goodness
— Spoony Neeson [❣] by @beck07990
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: the reader loves the British show, “Taskmaster” and gets Henry interested as well. They watch the show while in quarantine until Henry is called back to work. Then, when he comes home, he discovers she has been watching it without him.
❥ Warnings: none.
The following were favorites all written by the wonderful and gifted @sweetdreamsofgelato At this point, you should check out her entire masterlist!
— ✩ 'Tis the Season
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Henry takes Christmas decorations a little too seriously.
❥ Warnings: RPF, language and innuendo and the lightest sprinkling of spice, Mostly just snarky, fluffy nonsense, Adult language and very mild sexual innuendo.
— ✩ Kissing Prompt [❣ ֍]
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Prompt: one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other.
❥ Warnings: RPF, heavy kissing, but nothing explicit.
— ✩✩ Ebb and Flow
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Setting: AU ~ Library
❥ Prompt(s): #66 Staring At The Other’s Lips, Trying Not To Kiss Them, Before Giving In & #67 When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More.
❥ Warnings: AU!RPF; mild adult language; pining 💋 Emotions with a capital E.
✪ 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 ✪
— ✩ Soft Side [❣] by @astheskycries
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Warnings: none.
— ✩✩ Itty Bitty [❣] by @zealoushound
❥ Pairing: reader insert/OFC
❥ Summary: Sy discovers something about his wife.
❥ Warnings: Super fluffy. All fluffs live here. Pregnancy.
&
— ‘Bout time, Emma Jane! [❣ ֍] (sequel to Itty Bitty) by @zealoushound
❥ Pairing: reader insert/OFC
❥ Summary: You’re 3 weeks past nine months and you’re ready for little Emma Jane to come meet the world. You wanted to paint your toenails, Sy wanted to help. The sex was supposed to help too, but did it?
❥ Warnings: 18+ - well there’s a lot going on in here. Let’s see, overdue pregnancy, sex while pregnant, a hint of a lactation kink, with a dash of daddy kink, mentions of bodily fluids, unprotected sex
— Snowed in Love [❣] by @mary-ann84
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Prompt: snowed in, bathtub, scented oils.
❥ Warnings: fluff
— He'll Have to Go [➷ ❣] by @cavillanche
❥ Pairing: Syverson x Cecily (OFC)
❥ Summary: Syverson calls home to try to reconnect with the woman he left behind. All the fluff. Inspired by Elvis's song He'll Have to Go.
❥ Warnings: angst, fluff.
— Sugar and the Bull [❣ ֍] by @scorpiobitch95
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Sy is always giving you the best gifts, and today he brought you something extra special.
❥ Summary: having been dumped, you find yourself standing in the mud and rain as a bootcamp instructor yells at you. Finally, you snap, telling him your mind before storming off. Later when he appears at your room to see if you are ok, he makes sure you are fully over your ex, proving that some men are a lot better than others.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - NSFW, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough sex, vaginal sex, doggy style, cowgirl, inappropriate use of a mini sombrero.
The following were all written by the Queen of Syverson fanfics herself, @sillyrabbit81
— ✩✩ No More Pretending [➷ ❣ ֍]
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: you and Sy are high school sweethearts who break up when he joins the military, and you go to college. You see each other again at your ten-year high school reunion.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - smut, angst, fluff, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), mild slut shaming, dirty talk.
— ✩ Oops [❣]
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: you forget to follow your Sy on Instagram. Oops.
❥ Warnings: implied smut maybe?
— Unexpected [➷ ❣ ֍]
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: you start dating Sy when you are pregnant with your ex-boyfriend's baby.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - fluff, slight angst, smut, p in v sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), mention of abortion.
— Moving Day [➷ ❣ ֍]
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Sy helps you to pack your stuff to move into his house. He finds your box of memories and it brings up an unexpected question.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - fluff to angst to smut, sex (p in v)
♞ 𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 ♞
— ✩✩ The Cottage at the Edge of the Woods [➷ ❣ ֍] by @starryeyedstories
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: when monsters are cruel and the Continent is crueller, Geralt knows he can always find a few days of peace with you, the gentle healer who lives in the cottage at the edge of the woods.
❥ Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, this series is non-chronological and is made up of blurbs and one-shots about a pair of pining idiots and their friends.
❥ Sally’s note: this is one of the best feel-good series you’ll ever read!
— ✩✩ A Quiet Moment [❣] by @procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: based on some prompt that asked you to write a scene between two characters just being around each other with no dialogue. Immediately thought of Geralt.
❥ Warnings: none.
— Only Ours [❣] by cinebration
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Warnings: none.
— Practice Makes Perfect [֍] by @kittenofdoomage
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: she’s been practicing and wants to show him what a good girl she can be.
— A Bone-Deep Chill: Part One & Part Two [❣ ֍] by @13atoms
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: caught in a viscous storm, you find yourself in a freezing inn, sharing two rooms between three grouchy people. Worse still, you're fighting off the cold settling deep in your bones.
❥ Warnings: storms, hypothermia, friends-to-cuddling, Jaskier is a grumpy nuisance in this, fluff, almost-Smut, reckless ignoring of morning breath.
— Prompt [❣] by @darklydeliciousdesires
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Prompt: maybe if you’d been paying attention, you’d have seen it, how much I love you.
❥ Warnings: none.
— ✩✩ Still Here [➷ ❣ ֍] by @mandos-things
❥ Pairing: gender neutral reader insert
❥ Warnings: 18+ - angst, fluffy towards the end, mentions of crying, emotional distress, mentions of smut (nothing explicit).
— Jealous by @rebelhan
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Warnings: jealousy, tooth rotting fluff
— Nightmares [❣] by cosmos-coma
❥ Pairing: gender neutral reader insert
❥ Summary: Please enjoy some Geralt and Reader domesticity with a young Ciri!
❥ Warnings: TW3!Geralt, nightmares, fluff, mild language
♚ 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 ♚
— ✩ Dosed (completed series) [➷ ❣ ֍] by @winter2112rose
❥ Pairing: August Walker x Scarlett Treadaway (OFC)
❥ Summary: in an alternate universe where August Walker survived his clifftop fight with Ethan Hunt. He finds himself in another dangerous battle. This time with a deadly toxin and August learns the hard way that everyone needs love and lust in small doses.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - Drugging with a deadly toxin. Sex under influence of drugs, but consensual. Unprotected sex. Oral, Fingering and Penetrative sex. Varying sex positions. Descriptions of orgasms and bodily fluids. Swearing. Murder, Death, criminal activity. August being August.
— ✩ Arabesque [❣ ֍] by @notabronte
❥ Pairing: August Walker x Galya (OFC)
❥ Summary: ballet is just one of the many ways August appreciates beauty.
❥ Summary: August and you enjoy the ending of a night out in the city of love.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - NSFW, mention of alcohol, weapons and violence, fluff, romance, smut, Dom!August, Sub!reader, semi-public nudity and sex (Kind of. You’ll see.), humiliation, throat holding, spanking, fingering (vaginal and anal), dirty talk, edging, unprotected p in a sex, body fluids. August speaking French (Yes, that needs a warning. Translations included.).
— The Last Straw [➷ ֍] by cinebration
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: you work with August Walker in Special Activities. An assignment goes awry, forcing you to make a decision.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - sexual themes, mild language
— Sleepy [➷ ❣] by @cavill83
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Warnings: nightmares, comfort, fluff
— ✩ Fuck the Ring [❣]by @themanfromu
❥ Pairing: reader insert/OFC
❥ Warnings: fluff, romance, marriage proposal
— ✩✩ Friction [֍] by @thelastsock
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: can August really ever surprise you if you never know what to expect? He doesn’t like to share but he doesn’t give a fuck who sees…
❥ Warnings: 18+ - thigh riding, exhibitionism, public sex, unprotected sex, blink and you’ll miss it mention of cock warming, Dom!August x Sub!Reader relationship (implied but not explicit), creampie, orgasm control.
— Drunk!August Flirting with You [֍] by @angrythingstarlight
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: imagine August drunk flirting after a mission about why they call him The Hammer
Both of the following ones were written by the lovely @keanureevesisbae
— A Foreign Concept [֍]
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: you don't quite understand the concept of no, so August has to teach you a lesson.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - daddy kink, punishment. reader is a brat. Spanking. blowjobs, deepthroat. Male orgasm.
— My Girls [❣]
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: August Walker's daughter has been born.
❥ Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and child birth.
♤ 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 ♤
— Santa Baby [❣ ֍] by @littlefreya
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: for over a decade, detective Walter Marshall kept a dirty little secret, thinking no one would ever find out about his past. Sadly, for him, you are somewhat of a detective yourself.
❥ Warnings: some sexy themes, but mostly fluffy floof fluff.
— A Detective & His Baby Cubs [➷ ❣ ֍] by @winter2112rose
❥ Pairing: Walter Marshall x Isobel Clarke (OFC)
❥ Summary: a series of one - shot stories exploring the professional and personal life of English Police Lieutenant, Walter Marshall. As Walter, his wife, Isobel and daughter Faye navigate the highs and lows of love, work and new additions.
❥ Summary: you’re having trouble staying warm during a winter storm. Walter is there to warm you up, but will he be able to keep the touches innocent? Will you? (Based on “A Word Like That”)
❥ Warnings: 18+ - smutty content, dry humping, climaxing with clothes on (both parties, as Walter is all for solidarity), dirty thoughts, embarrassed reader, fear of the dark, talk of bad weather.
— Winter [❣ ֍] by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Walter prepares for you a nice ‘hot tub’ date on his day off.
❥ Warnings: nudity, fluff, fingering, implied smut, lil angst
— Secret Santa [❣] by @viking-raider
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: you're the new Detective in Marshall's station and he's cold towards you. But for Christmas, Rachel Chase devises a plan to fix all of that. With Secret Santa.
❥ Warnings: COTTON CANDY GOODNESS, Grumpus!Marshall, Language, Mention of Homicide, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers?, Shady Behavior, Workplace Romance, Alcohol, Christmas Fic, Cold Work Environment, Kissing
— In All Fairness... [֍] by @raccoon-eyed-rebel
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: it's date night, and you found the perfect outfit... In hindsight it may have been a little too perfect.
❥ Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI - NSFW, SMUT, very impatient Marshall who has a thing for fishnets, light bondage, light daddy kink, unsafe sex (be smarter, folks!), use of pet names, creampie, manhandling, oral (m receiving), facial, ehh...
— Reading is Kinda Fun [❣] by @keanureevesisbae
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: you get your boyfriend Walter to read ‘Strange Weather in Tokyo’, but you didn't expect this reaction...
❥ Warnings: none.
♙ 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐌𝐄𝐒 ♙
— ✩✩ Fresh Air and Exercise [❣ ֍] by @daydreaming-in-letters
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Sherlock may have refused to join his wife for an afternoon walk, but that doesn't mean he has to pass up on the much-needed exercise altogether.
❥ Warnings: gave the reader a specific maiden name for reasons and she has hair falling into her face (no other explicit descriptions though), domestic fluff, mild teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, more fluff
— Emotionalism [➷ ❣] by cinebration
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Warnings: hurt/comfort, late night talks that was long overdue
— Drunk!Sherlock [❣] by youvebeenlivingfictional
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Prompt: the prompt from the cliché list that caught my eye was drunkenly confessing feelings because of those damn photos from the Enola Holmes set
❥ Warnings: none.
— ✩ The Most Beautiful Riddle [❣] by @espinosaurusrexex
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: in which Sherlock finally proposes to Y/N.
❥ Warnings: fluff, fluff, and did I mention fluff?
❖ 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓 ❖
— The Offer [➷ ❣ ֍] (completed series) by @cavillanche
❥ Pairing: Clark Kent x Gwendolyn Barker (OFC)
❥ Setting: AU ~ Mob Boss (very loosely inspired by the movie 365 Days)
❥ Summary: Gwendolyn Barker is on the verge of being homeless when Clark Kent, shipping magnate and rumored mob boss, makes her an offer that would take care of everything. All he asks is for a year of her life.
❥ Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, Mob Boss!Clark sugar daddy vibes, arrangement, violence, mentions of blood and guns, kidnapping, money issues…
— ✩ Handyman [❣] by @itsrubberbisquit
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Clark has been smitten with his accident-prone neighbor for quite some time. She tracks him down to make a familiar request with an unusual ending.
❥ Warnings: this is mostly pure, unadultered fluff with a smidge of suggestion. Very quick human trafficking mention, nothing explicit.
&
— ✩ The Trap [❣] (sequel to Handyman)by @itsrubberbisquit
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Clark is back at it again with Y/N, inviting her over for some impromptu baking. More problems with the oven reveal Y/N is far more perceptive than Clark had given her credit for.
❥ Warnings: none.
— ✩ Please Don't Stop the Music [➷ ❣ ֍] by @nashibirne
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Clark Kent is your neighbour and good friend but over the last months you've fallen in love with him. Clark has no clue because you're way too shy to make a move on him. So you yearn for him secretly. Until today...
❥ Warnings: 18+ - nsfw, pure fluff, lots of kissing and smut too, virgin reader, deflowering, first time, sex, unprotected sex, all vanilla and sweet, friends to lovers.
❁ 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑!𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄 ❁
— ✩ Moments of Bliss [❣ ֍] by captainsy-cookiemonster
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: Mikey captures your moments of bliss – LITERALLY.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - not full smut but SMUT, toys, taking pictures during The Act™ (nothing explicit), teasing, clit play, fingering, Mikey being a little shit as always, mild size kink, floofy floof.
— ✩ Taking Cues [֍] by @raccoon-eyed-rebel
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: your favourite bartender offers to teach you to play pool.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - MINORS DNI, NSFW, SMUT, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex, unsafe casual sex (that's a really bad idea, folks, don't do it), creampie, abuse of a pool table...
These ones were written by the lovely @geralts-yenn
— ✩ Pranked [❣ ֍]
❥ Pairing: reader insert
❥ Summary: your babysitter job took some turns that you couldn't have foreseen...
❥ Prompt: I was wondering where Mike would take you out on a date.
❥ Warnings: none.
❅ 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ❅
— ✩✩ Whatever Happened in Vienna [➷ ❣ ֍] by @daydreaming-in-letters
❥ Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader
❥ Summary: the reader finds herself in the middle of mission preparation with Napoleon, Gaby and Illya. Unfortunately, her and Napoleon's past is making things a little difficult.
❥ Warnings: reader is described as having middle length to long hair (no further descriptions though), a little angsty in the beginning, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight dom (both Napoleon and reader), light choking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, doggystyle, bodily fluids, dirty talk, language.
— I'm Your Man [❣ ֍] by @fantasiesinflight
❥ Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader
❥ Summary: Napoleon makes you jealous, so you make him jealous with a fluffy make up.
❥ Summary: The old gothic house on a hill was a downright steal, if a bit creepy, but with the housing market being what it is, beggars can’t be choosers. Anna felt the moment she walked into it like she wasn’t alone. It didn’t feel like a ghost, there wasn’t the preternatural chill of death to the air. It was warm, the warmth of another’s embrace, warm breath on your skin. The dreams started almost instantly, of tangled bodies and sweat soaked sheets. Then came the events of the waking world. Fingers trailing over her skin, soft lips ghosting across her own.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - Minors DNI, demonic stuff, supernatural themes, themes of sex and sexuality throughout the entire story, spicy dreams and non-sexual ghostly touching, jealousy, some possessive dickhead behavior, attempts at emotional manipulation, smut, fluff, angst.
⚜ 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ⚜
— Dream with Purpose [֍] by @thelastsock
❥ Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader x Captain Syverson
❥ Summary: fall asleep with a dream, wake up with a purpose.
❥ Warnings: some swears, air restriction play (choking), situation could be considered coerced but is (hopefully) resolved by the end of the ficlet. No actual described sex.
— Unnamed Drabble [֍] by wildnyx
❥ Pairing: any HC characters x reader/unnamed OFC
❥ Warnings: hot stuff.
— Home [❣ ֍] by @daydreaming-in-letters
❥ Pairing: any character x reader
❥ Summary: your love comes home to you after being away for too long.
❥ Warnings: 18+ - non-explicit sexy times, fluff
— Orgasm [❣ ֍] by scorpiobitch95
❥ Pairing: Syverson x Female Reader, Walter Marshall x Female Reader, Napoleon Solo x Female Reader
❥ Prompt: today is International Female Orgasm Day, so - out of all the people you write for, who do you think is most likely to give you the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life?
❥ Warnings: 18+ - NSFW, smut, intercourse (p in v), edging, light anal play, oral sex (female receiving), cursing, light dom play if you squint.
The last ones were written by the amazing @raccoon-eyed-rebel. Check the masterlist here!
— ✩✩ 179th Crescent Street [❣ ֍] (ongoing series)
❥ Pairings: Hellraiser!Mike x Dani (OFC); Geralt of Rivia x Sol (OFC); August Walker x Anjelica (OFC); Walter Marshall x Alexandra (OFC); Sherlock Holmes x Elena (OFC)
❥ Characters: Hellraiser!Mike; Captain Syverson; Geralt of Rivia; August Walker; Walter Marshall; Sherlock Holmes; Napoleon Solo; Charles Brandon.
❥ Setting: AU ~ College Students
❥ Summary: the shenanigans of eight college guys who share a house...
❥ Warnings: provided in all chapters. Maine ones are: 18+ MINORS DNI - fluff, smut, light angst, emotions, p-in-v situations, oral (M & F receiving), fingering, swearing, themes of "virginity", rough sex, BDSM themes, pining, idiots in love, awkward situations, threesome, characters being adorable, characters being assholes (blackmail, inappropriate relationships), just a bunch of amazing dudes.
❥ Sally's note: hold on to your underwear, Geralt of Rivia will not leave you indifferent.
— ✩ Under Orders [֍] (ongoing series)
❥ Pairing: Dom!August Walker x reader | Dom!Walter Marshall x reader
❥ Summary: one of the best decisions August Walker ever made was sharing his princess with his college roommate Walter Marshall...
❥ Warnings: 18+ - BDSM, D/s dynamic (technically D/s/D), praise kink, bondage, oral (m & f receiving), anal sex (toys, fingering, p-in-a and unprotected), slight hurt/comfort, use of pet names/titles (Daddy, Sir, princess, kitten, sweetheart and darling), established relationship, extra light dacryphilia, spanking, degradation/name-calling, phone sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, bratty behavior, punishment/funishment, edging, orgasm denial. Also, check-ins and aftercare...
Summary: Your life consists of caring for others. This is a story of you learning to care for yourself.
Part One Summary: You meet Sy at a bonfire.
Pairing: Syverson x Reader
Words: 6k
Warnings: Nothing yet besides swearing & alcohol. Future parts will contain explicit smut, mental health issues including depression / anxiety / PTSD, angst, and mentions of past domestic violence. Everything will be tagged.
Notes: Please bear with the first part since it’s a lot of background material in what is turning out to be a fairly long story…The future parts are more Sy, obviously, so they’re gonna be better to read (in my opinion). Talk to me if you want about stuff! 😊
Tag List: Let me know and I’ll add ya! @seriouslygoodlookinggents
Pulling into your regular parking spot outside the agency you’ve worked at for the past two years, you turn off your car and yawn.
It’s Monday morning. You hate Monday mornings.
You’re not scheduled to start work until eight, so you sit there and zone out until it’s time to go inside. Keeping your coffee secure in one hand, you heave two bags over your shoulder–one with all your personal stuff and one with all your work stuff–and approach the building. There are already a million tasks you need to do entering your head, quickly overwhelming you.
After you enter, you scan your badge to allow you access beyond the main lobby area, and you quietly smile at and walk by a few coworkers who don’t greet you or acknowledge you at all before silently opening your cubicle and stepping inside.
The red light on the phone on your desk is already rapidly blinking, a reminder of the calls you need to return, and you groan as you begin unloading your things onto your desk. Anxiety’s already sitting heavy on your chest.
You work for a family preservation agency, essentially partnering with Social Services to provide programming to keep kids from going into foster care, or, if foster care’s an actual better long-term solution, then working with foster families to assist in that transition. You used to do a lot of family counseling sessions to offer skills and support to parents, and that’s when you felt like you really made a difference. Now it seems that all you do is drive children around from place to place.
And type up case notes. Hours and hours of case notes.
You’ve always done some sort of social work, and you love it–hell, you’re currently in a graduate program to get a Master’s in Social Work, even–but you don’t know if this particular job has a place in your future anymore. And you’re getting tired of constantly stressing over it. It’s a job, and you should be thankful.
After you write down all of your voicemail messages and start up your computer, you sip your coffee in between typing up notes you’re behind on. Shortly afterwards, there’s a voice from the doorway asking, “You’re not on-call this weekend, right?”
You don’t even hear your co-worker and best office friend, Amelia, come to the door of your cubicle, let alone begin talking to you. She steps inside and waves her hand by your face to get your attention.
“Oh!” You take your eyes off your computer monitor to look over at Amelia, offering her a soft smile. “Sorry, what?”
“It’s Johnny’s birthday this weekend,” Amelia says, combing through her long brown hair with her fingers. It’s still wet from her shower like always when she comes in. She’s never late, but she always rushes in the mornings–unlike you yourself who’s always way too worried about being late that you get to work extremely early just in case. And end up sitting in your car until it’s time to start your day. “We’re having a big bonfire over at the farm Friday night. You’re not on-call for any reason, right?”
You glance at the open planner on your desk and again at the calendar hanging on your wall. You haven’t written down that you’re on-call, so all you can assume is that you’re not. You’ve been so busy with your cases and your schoolwork lately that it’s making you forgetful, though, so you’re not too confident in your answer.
“I dunno, honestly. I might have told someone I’d switch with them–”
Warnings: Fluff, Tiny hint of PTSD, Cussing, Lots of love ❤️
Words: 3562
I enjoyed writing this and I hope that you all enjoy it as well. This story will be 2 parts. Possibly 3. There will be typos. Thank you for reading ☺️😘
A love that never fades
Part 1
Finally got the last box out of storage and into my house. Long distance moving and trying to get everything lined up is frustrating and very exhausting. I flopped my tired body onto the couch to rest my sore feet and back. I reached for my phone to check the notifications and I saw I had new text messages. Most were in my group chat with Cat and James (My friend and Sy's sister Catherine and her husband James who is good friend of Sy's from the Army). I replied in our group chat and went to my next set of new texts and they were from Lily (Sy's Mom).
Lily - Good morning sunshine and welcome home! We are thrilled that you are back here. We think of you as family and love you. You are always welcome at our house.
Let me know if you need any help! If you are feeling up for it later today we would love to have you over at the house for dinner and catching up. You're welcome over anytime but we will start cooking around 4:00. :)
While reading her messages I started to tear up a little bit and felt happiness in my heart. I moved away for a job opportunity little over 3 years ago. I gained a great deal of experience to further my job advancement but the feeling of being out of place and alone started to wear me down. I knew where I belonged so I put together a plan and made it happen. I replied back and let her know that I'd love to come over and that I would let her know once I was on my way.
I placed my phone on the ottoman and jumped up and started to dig around in boxes and putting together an outfit for this afternoon. Once that mission was completed I decided to turn on some music to rock out to and start working on unpacking boxes and figure out how I wanted to setup the house. Mötley Crüe - "Kickstart my heart" came on and that music adrenaline rush hit and I was rocking out all over the house cleaning out boxes while memories of Sy started to flood in and how he had taken me to see Mötley Crüe in concert a couple of times. He would always stand close to me, especially during the slow songs. He would stand behind me and wrap his arms tightly around me. Damn, I miss him. Does he miss me? Does he ever think of me ? For whatever reason we became distant after I moved. Honestly, the man is on my mind probably more than he should be, but maybe that's not such a bad thing. I sighed and shook my head and reset my focus back on the task.
I took a much needed long shower. The hot water felt so good on my sore body. Now it was time to finish getting ready and drive over to the Syverson's for dinner. I sent Lily a text to let her know I would be leaving soon and should arrive in 30 minutes. I am excited, nervous, happy and somewhat emotional on this drive. I haven't seen them in years and I have missed them so much. It is such a beautiful drive in the country to their house.
The leaves are starting to change colors for Fall. The feeling of actually being home is becoming stronger and stronger. The feeling of real happiness is sparking again. Moving back to Texas was the best decision and I'm excited for the future.
I entered their long driveway and came to a stop. I stepped out of the car and grabbed my phone to take a picture. They have Pecan trees and Oak trees along the sides of the driveway. The color of the leaves are so magical. A slight breeze blows the leaves around and the smell of crisp air flows. I've always loved their property. Out in the country. Away from the loud and busy city. Out here it's just nature and peace. I let out a content sigh and get back into the car and continue on. I parked my car and got out and looked around. Sy's truck is under the car port. He would always leave his truck at his parents during deployment. I could feel my heart speeding up just seeing his truck and all the memories I have with him. Our random adventures, driving around just because, going out to eat, sitting on the tailgate and watching sunsets. He loves that truck and seemed that he also loved having me sit next to him with his arm around me. I know that I loved it and I would put my head against his chest. I know he's currently deployed in Iraq but a big part of me wishes that this was a surprise and he was actually home because he's pulled that surprise on me before. I jumped as a dog started to bark at me and my eyes quickly located the incoming dog. "Hank!?" I quickly squatted down and greeted their Chocolate Labrador, Hank. I gave him lots of love and pets as he's trying to lick my face off and dancing in excitement. All these years and he remembers me! Then I hear laughing and look up to see Lily and Felix (Sy's Dad). I stood up and walked towards them and they met me half way. Lots of hugs given and received. They are two of the kindest people I've ever met. Chatting away in the driveway with Lily and there's good ole Hank at my side. Felix went back into the house but returned in seconds. I can hear keys jingling and slightly curious. Lily stepped away to check on dinner and Felix motions for me to follow him. We chat back and forth as we walk to Sy's truck and he hands me the keys that I heard. I looked at him and then to the truck. Felix smiles at me and says "Go ahead Sweetheart. I saw you checking out his truck when you got here." I unlocked the door and slowly slide onto the custom made leather bench seat. I looked down at the set of keys and Sy still had something on the keyring that I had made for him many years ago when I was learning different crafts. A small metal charm in the shape of Texas and I had engraved Sy and a little heart below his name. I put the key in the ignition and started up his truck. Ahhh that loud rumble. I can't help but smile like a big goof. His truck had such a distinct sound. Everything inside looks almost the same as a few years ago. I turned off the truck and slid out of and I handed Felix the keys and thanked him. He then looks at me and says "You know he loves you, right." Tears immediately start to form up as I look at him. Shocked and unsure what to do or say. Felix reaches out and hugs me tightly and as I'm crying I tell him that I love his son so much. He patted me on the back saying "I know you love him, sweetheart. You always have. You're very special to him and to us as well. You bring out a side of him that not many people get to see. You truly make him happy, dear."
Felix made sure I was okay and then stepped back into the house to help Lily with dinner. I walked around the yard with Hank by my side as I gather myself and my thoughts before I head inside. We walk up the steps and I open the door and I'm hit with the wonderful smell of Pot Roast. Lily and Felix always made the most delicious meals. I head into the kitchen and let them know dinner smells great! Lily smiles and winks at me. "We knew this was one of your favorites and we felt a good comfort meal would be perfect for this evening." Felix is making homemade mashed potatoes and rolls. I thanked them for doing so much for me and it wasn't needed. They just shake their heads at me and Felix said dinner will still be a bit and to make myself at home.
I walked around the house and viewed the framed pictures on the walls. Many pictures of friends and family. Army pictures. Baby pictures. A few of the pictures I remember and then some new ones. Pictures of Cat and James adorable daughter, Skyler. She is 2 years old. There's a picture of my Dad and Felix. They were both Majors in the Army. They had met on Base and quickly became good friends. That is how I ended up in this area during my highschool days. My parents had divorced and I picked to live with my Dad. He was transferred to Texas and of all the places we lived. This is where I felt the most at "home." A lot of that is from meeting the Syverson family and how fast they welcomed us in like we were family. Now I am in my late 30s and this is where I still feel the most at home and welcomed. I stepped down the hallway and there's one of my favorite pictures of me and Sy at a Fall festival. Both of us making goofy faces while lost in a corn maze. I can't believe that was almost 4 years ago. Another picture is me with the Syverson family on Christmas. Cat came up with the idea of doing an ugly Christmas sweater photo op and everyone actually agreed to it. That was a fun day. We did the photos after opening our gifts. So to add to the ugly sweaters we decided to stick bows on each other and do silly pictures. His family has such a great sense of humor and very laid back. All these memories makes my heart feel alive. I walked down the hall more and enter Sy's old bedroom. He always liked to stay at his parents house from time to time. Framed Army certificates, Medals, Awards and Army group pictures are hung on the walls. His stereo system and large music collection still sat in the same spot as I remembered. The top of his dresser had a couple of framed pictures. One of him with his parents before leaving for his first deployment. The second picture is of us at Cat and James wedding 4 years ago. Sy in his Army dress uniform....*swoons*. Another favorite picture of us. They had such a beautiful outdoors evening wedding. I grabbed the photo and sat on the bed and just stared at it. It's so obvious that we love each other. I have so many regrets and I'm sure Sy has regrets as well. I do hope that whenever he returns home that he will want to see me and we can talk. I miss that man so much. Half of my heart feels empty without him. Then I hear a knock on the door and Lily walks in. She sat down on the bed next to me and looked at the picture with me.
"He called us a couple of days ago. We told him that you were getting yourself settled in. I could hear a difference in his voice once I mentioned you. He sounded livelier. He asked if you were single! Oh my boy. That was his first question about you. I could hear him smile. If that makes sense. When I told him that you were single. He said he wished he could get on that plane now and come home. He probably has three more months on this deployment but maybe things will change and he can come home sooner. That would be wonderful, huh? Ya know....you should mail him a Care package. I remember when you would mail him packages and letters all the time. You helped him feel like he wasn't too far from home or alone. He knew he had people back home that cared and loved him. I think that would be quite the surprise for him on mail day! I will write down his address for you. He decided to date about a year and half ago while he was home in between deployments and that didn't last long. That girlfriend was absolutely the worst nightmare ever and really messed him up. He was really hard on himself after that. He wanted to jump in his truck and drive out to see you. He kept kicking himself for not asking you out. So many years he wanted to ask you out. He wanted to take it further with you but he always hesitated. We sat right here on this bed and had many discussions about the two of you. I believe in soul mates and I feel it in my heart that you two are meant to be. You both were teenagers when you met but even then. You both clicked like you had known each other for a lifetime and got along perfectly. It was hard for him to fully wrap around the idea he had met "the one" at such a young age. Then he went into the Army and was away so often. He wasn't sure if you wanted that life with him because you grew up in the Army life with your dad. At times he wondered if he deserved to have you in his life in that way. Each deployment changed him and I get it. I went through it with Felix. Just like you had seen a change in your Dad over the years. I told Sy that you are both strong people and can handle anything that is tossed at you. As he grew up and older he realized more and more that you were his world and didn't want to be without you and kicked himself for the past and letting all these years slip by. You two have such a special bond and no other woman has made him feel the way that you do or treated him so lovingly the way you do. I think things will fall right back into place as they were with you two and your future together will be bright and full of happiness and maybe even a wedding! Then we can officially make you a Syverson!"
Lily winked at me and I can feel that I'm blushing and my face hurts from smiling. Felix shouts from down the hall that dinner is ready!
Dinner was amazing and the best meal I've had in a long time. We sat at the table talking and catching up. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the sun was setting. The sky was covered in orange, red and a hint of yellow. I quickly jumped up and asked if one of them would take my picture with Sy's truck so I could print him a copy and put it in his care package. We rushed outside to capture the gorgeous sunset before it was gone. The sun was shining brightly through the trees. Felix took a few pictures for me and then I asked for a group picture. Of course we included Hank! It was very entertaining trying to get the 4 of us in a picture but we finally got it. I can give Sy a copy of that picture as well. We go back inside and continue to chat and catch up. Lily yawns and I didn't realize how fast time had zipped by. It was almost 10:00 p.m. I thanked them again for a wonderful evening and everything they had done for me. They followed me out to my car. I gave Hank some pets and told him bye. I hugged Lily and Felix again and got into the car then Lily stops me from leaving and runs into the house and returns with a post-it note and smiles at me. It's Sy's Military address. It's too late to shop for items tonight. I know what my plans are for tomorrow after my morning jog. I'm excited to go shopping for Sy like I use to and buy some of his favorite things. The drive home went by fast as I had many thoughts going in my brain. Having someone and something special to look forward to. It really makes each day better and happier.
I got up early and went for my usual sunrise jog. Afterwards, I went the post office to get Priority mail shipping boxes and then off to the store to buy items to put into his care packages. It's been such a long time since I've felt like this. The excitement for him to receive my packages and how he'll react when he opens. If only I could see those reactions. From the way his parents talked to me then he should be over the moon. I purchased: coffee, creamer packets, beef jerky, trail mix, oatmeal cookies, granola bars and packs of crackers. Then I decided to get some candies that were cute and a little flirty. In my head I could see him shaking his head and grinning as he pulled the items out of the box. So off to the candy aisle! I tossed a variety of different types of Hershey's kisses...they probably won't survive the Iraq heat but I'm sure he'll still enjoy. Looking around I spot Hot Tamales candies.... I mean...he is pretty damn hot. Perfect find. Tossed a couple of boxes of those in the cart. The last great find... Gummy bears! Of course. I've called him Bear for almost 20 years. Then I went to the other side of the store and purchased some hygiene products that will I will put into a different care package box. Off to the register to purchase the items. I almost feel like squealing and dancing as I exit the store. Before going home I swing by the photo center and quickly print off some copies of the pictures we had taken the day before.
I placed all of the store bags on the living room floor and then I went to browse my crafting box for cardstock, stickers, markers and glue. It's been a while since I've mailed him a package but I had kept all of the supplies. I sat on the living room floor and started working on the packages. Trying to decide on what to write on the inside flaps of the boxes. Then it hit me...."Someone in Texas misses you beary much!". Cute, cheesy, corny? I'm going to go with my heart on this and just be me. After writing that on the flaps I placed a big cute bear sticker on one flap and then placed some little red hearts on each flap. I filled up the boxes with the items I had purchased. I wrote a short note to him on the inside of a card and wrote my phone number at the bottom. I'd love to hear his voice. I placed the photos in the card and sealed the envelope. I looked at both care packages and felt like they were ready to be taped up and to be mailed. I decided to add a little extra love and put some hearts on the outside of the boxes as well. I wish I could see the looks he receives whenever he picks up his packages.
Off to the Post office I go. I took a picture of me with the boxes and sent to Lily. Packages were accepted and later today they will officially be on the way to Iraq to a very special Captain. I get back into the car and Lily had replied:
Wow Honey!! You were on it this morning, huh?! You are such a wonderful person. Thank you for caring and loving our Son like you do. Thank you for loving us and we love you and glad you're a part of our family.
Each day I check the tracking numbers on his packages to see their progress. On day 10 the status on both of his packages change to Arrived to Military Post office. They made it ! Now the feeling of being nervous/anxious hits. I check the tracking again a few hours later and the status has changed. Green words that say "Package delivered to Recipient." I thought I was nervous and anxious earlier. Nope. What I feel now blows that away. I want to jump up and down, scream, cry, giggle, dance. Every emotion is hitting me. Will he call me or maybe just write to me. I can't concentrate on anything. All of my thoughts are on him and these packages I sent. Hours go by and nothing. It's almost 9:00 pm and my phone starts to vibrate and I freeze in spot. I grab my phone. Unknown number. I accepted the call and said Hello. I hear a lot of crackling. No voice. I say hello again. Still just crackling. Then I hear a deep breath...
Hello! I write for Captain Syverson (Henry Cavill character in the movie Sand Castle) and apparently Captain Syverson only. All of these are Syverson x Reader. Enjoy!! (** will denote smut)
Surprise–(OR–you find out you’re pregnant while Sy’s deployed)–established relationship
[Part One–Y/N’s POV] [Part Two Sy’s POV] [Part Three **] [Part Four–WIP]
The Bad Stuff Never Stops Happening–Angst, Established Relationship
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five–WIP]
The Staircase Fic
[Part One] [Part Two–WIP]
Eyes That See—Your life consists of caring for others. This is a story of you learning to care for yourself. (WIP)
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Eight **] [Part Nine **] [Part Nine and a Half] [Part Ten**] [Part Eleven**] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen**] [Part Fifteen**] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen**] [Part Eighteen*****] [Part Nineteen]
[ETS Questions] [What Sy’s Place Looks Like] [When Sy First Sees Y/N] [Taking Sy to a Wedding] [Napping With Sy] [Y/N on her period] [ETS Playlist] [ETS Break In 1] [ETS Break In 2] [If Sy Confronted Cole]
Summary: Sy takes you on a date and you meet his family.
Warnings: Uncle Sy and Sy with a small child aka cuteness overload 🥹
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four
The next day you sat around anxiously waiting for the day to end. You’d thought of starting work but there was no sense in starting on a Friday as it was let alone a Friday that you were too preoccupied to focus on anything. You were really excited for your date with Sy but also a little nervous. It had been so long since you went on a date. Honestly stopping to think about it you couldn’t even remember when Warren had taken you on one last.
It was like after he proposed things just went downhill. You didn’t care now, of course, but it just made you all the more eager to be doted upon by Sy. When the time came, you decided it was time to get ready you weren’t sure where to start.
“What the hell do I wear?,” you then pondered while standing in front of your closet. You started pushing clothes about trying to decide what you wanted. Before it was over you settled in a dark pink dress in the back of your closet that you’d never worn and a cute sandal for your good foot. “Alright, hard part is done,” you said to yourself.
You went to shower then put on your outfit you’d picked. You styled your hair in loose curls as well. After all that it was fifteen till six. You crutched your way to your living room to check that you had everything you needed in your purse before Sy arrived.
You sat there on your couch waiting and just before six Sy was coming through your door. “Hey darlin’,” he said with a huge smile. “Hey,” you replied with your own smile. He leaned down to kiss you before handing you some flowers. “These are pretty, thank you,” you told him. “They were just out in the field behind the house we’re working on. I thought you might like ‘em,” he told you.
“You picked these yourself?,” you asked. “Sure did,” he replied. You smiled softly. The sentiment nearly made you cry, but you shook it off. “I need to get a vase for these,” you said. “Where’s it at sweetheart? I’ll get it,” he told you. “Under the sink,” you replied as you followed him to the kitchen. Sy noticed the hinge on your cabinet was loose. “I can fix that later darlin’. Just remind me,” he told you. He got the vase and filled it up for you and placed it on the island. “There,” you said, placing them in the vase.
Sy wrapped his arms around you and set your crutches to the side. “You look gorgeous. I like that dress,,” he breathed. “Thank you. You look really nice too,” you replied. He had on a nice black button down with his sleeves pushed up, jeans, and some boots. He looked at you a moment longer before leaning down to kiss you. You let your hands linger on his chest as he pulled you closer.
“Mmm,” he hummed before leaning back. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that,” he breathed, making you smile. Sy helped you outside before the two of you then made your way to the restaurant. He held your hand as he drove, lacing his fingers into yours. His big hand engulfing yours.
“What did you do today darlin’?,” he asked. “Not much. Mostly sat around and waited for right now,” you said shyly. “So you were excited to see me, huh?,” he teased. “I was,” you replied quietly. “I’m only teasing baby. I was the exact same. I tried to keep myself busy to make the day go faster. I couldn’t wait to come get you,” he said, brining your hand to his lips and kissing it gently a few times.
The ride wasn’t very long and of course when you arrived Sy helped you out. You were seated and got your drinks ordered as you overlooked the menu. Sy grabbed your waist and scooted as close as he could to you in the booth. He rested his chin on your shoulder as the two of you looked over the menu.
“Whatcha thinkin’ darlin’?,” he asked. “Well I know what steak I want and side, but I’m looking at this appetizer. It’s a sampler platter with mozzarella sticks, deep fried mushrooms, and fried pickles. I dunno if you eat any of that though. I figured we could share if you do because I’d never be able to eat it all myself,” you told him. “Yeah I eat those, but even if I didn’t and you did whatever my little darlin’ wants, she can have,” he told you.
“You’re gonna have me spoiled rotten aren’t you?,” you asked with a laugh. “That’s the plan,” he said with a soft smile. You leaned over and gave him a kiss as your waitress returned to take your order.
“So,” you said after taking a sip of your water, “what can I expect at this Sunday diner. Formal? Casual? Do I need to bring something?” “It’s real causal darlin’, no worries there. I think Daddy’s grillin’ some burgers and hotdogs. The boys are usually out in the yard playing football or something before it’s over or swimming. I’ll probably wear a T-shirt and my swim trunks just in case. As far as bringin’ somethin’, you can if you wanna but you don’t got to,” he told you.
“Alright. I may make another pie or something. I don’t think I’ll be swimming though with this foot,” you said. “That pie was delicious by the way. I didn’t think to tell you before. But yeah I reckon you’re right about that baby. Still plenty summer left for swimming after you’re all healed up though,” he replied.
Just then your they brought your appetizer. “Here baby,” Sy said, holding a a fried pickle to your lips. “Mmm,” you hummed. “Good?,” he asked. “Yeah. I love pickles,” you said giddily. He fed you one of each of the others items before trying them himself. When your entrees came out Sy hesitated to let go of you.
You were finding him to be very affectionate, which you were thoroughly enjoying. You ate most of your food but we’re unable to finish it. You sat back in the seat and huffed. “You alright there sweetheart?,” he asked. “Yeah just stuffed. I can’t eat another bite. I’ll need a to go box,” you told him. “I’ll get you one when I get the ticket baby,” he said as he wrapped his arm back around you.
You leaned into him, content to be held in his big arms. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said while pulling out his phone. “What?,” you asked. “Well we’ve gotta have a first date picture, don’t we?,” he asked. You smiled softly at his enthusiasm. He took a few pictures. One of the two of you smiling, one with him kissing your cheek and making you grin widely, another of him looking into your eyes, and the last of you holding his face in your hands while he kissed you.
“You mind if I put these on Facebook? You have one?,” he asked. “I do, but for some reason I’m surprised you do,” you chuckled. “Yeah I know, but it’s a good way to get updates on my niece and nephews though. I’m gonna send you a request. It’s alright I put these on there right?,” he asked. “Yeah, of course. Can you send them to me too?,” you replied. “Yeah, baby,” he said as he typed on his phone.
You got the notification of his request before the one for you approve him saying he was in a relationship with you. Then he posted the pictures. “Now everybody can see my pretty lady,” he grinned. “You’re so sweet Sy,” you told him as you looked into his eyes. “Not as sweet as you baby girl,” he said before giving you a kiss.
He took you home that evening and kissed you breathless. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow baby,” he breathed before leaving.
Sy made good on his promise. He picked you up the next morning so y’all could go buy groceries, then the two of you spent the rest of the day relaxing and cuddling on the couch.
The day came and went and it was time to go to lunch with Sy’s family. You dressed comfortably and pulled your hair back into a high ponytail. When Sy came in he was surprised to see you’d made three pies. “I wasn’t sure which kind so I made cherry, pecan, and a lemon ice box pie. It’s not too much is it?,” you asked. “Naw darlin’ it’s fine,” he replied.
You were starting to get a little nervous honestly and Sy picked up on it. “Darlin’ if you think this is too much for you after all, everybody’ll understand,” he mentioned. “No, I’ve just got myself wound up this morning is all. I’m alright,” you replied. “You’re sure?,” he asked, taking you in his arms. You nodded.
He kissed your forehead and then both your cheeks before lingering before your lips. “What is it?,” you asked him. “Nothin’,” he replied before leaning in to kiss you.
When you arrived at Sy’s parent’s all the kids were already running around in the yard. When you got out all you could hear was, “Unky Sy! Unky Sy!” You looked up to see the cutest little girl running as fast as her little legs would carry her. “Livie!,” Sy said as he picked her up and spun her around. She squealed with laughter.
The sight of the big man with a small child was very quickly turning your heart to mush. It was the sweetest thing you’d ever saw. “Who dat?,” she then asked, pointing to you. “That’s Unky Sy’s sweetheart. Sweetheart, this is Olivia,” he replied. “Hi Olivia,” you said, then telling her your name. “Hi Sweetheart! Are you a pwincess?,” she then asked. “Umm..,” you started. “She sure is!,” Sy beamed, causing Olivia to smile happily while clapping her little hands.
“I’ve gotta help my sweetheart get these pies and get across the yard, little one,” he said putting Olivia down. “Otay!,” she said as she took off running once again to play.
As you two were going across the yard everyone came up to meet you. All the kids seemed really sweet and so did their mom. Sy’s dad, James, gave you a one armed hug as he flipped some burgers. “It’s nice to finally meet ya, little lady. Lord knows Sy hasn’t stopped talking about you since y’all first met,” he said, making you blush. “Where’s Mama and Nick?,” Sy asked
“Oh she’s got your brother in the kitchen helpin’ with somethin’ or another,” he said. You followed Sy inside. “This one goes in the fridge, right darlin’,?” he asked. “Yeah,” you replied. “There you are! I’m so glad you could come, sweetie. You didn’t have to bring nothin’ though,” Sy’s mom said while giving you a hug. “Thanks for having me. I just didn’t wanna show up empty handed,” you replied. “Well I sure do appreciate it. Honestly I hadn’t even thought about dessert but we’re covered now. That there’s my son Nick,” she told you, pointing in his direction.
“Nice to meet ya,” he said as he filled some bowls with chips. “You too,” you replied. You all chatted and in no time lunch was ready. Since it was so hot out y’all sat inside. You all talked to one another and you were asked several questions as everyone was eager to get to know you. When she was done eating little Olivia came over and crawled up in your lap. She wrapped her tiny arms around you and laid her head on your chest
“I’m sorry. Let me come get her,” Janie said. “She’s totally fine if you’re alright with her sitting with me,” you replied. “You’re sure? She’s just getting sleepy now. She’s been playing all mornin’ and got her little belly full,” she said. “I’m sure. She’s not bothering me at all,” you said, wrapping an arm around her. You finished your food as she dozed off.
Sy looked over at the two of you and smiled. “I think she’s out,” you said as Janie rounded the table. “She is, bless her heart. I’m surprised she sat with you. No offense meant there but she doesn’t usually take to unfamiliar people that quick. I’m gonna go lay her in the bed,” she said as she scooped her up. “She’s not lying. She’s usually very “stranger, danger”,” Nick told you. “Well, I’m honored she likes me then,” you replied.
After lunch the boys wanted to go swimming. “Uncle Sy. Come with us!,” Riley said, pulling him by the arm. You went out and sat by the pool with Kerry Beth and Janie. “You two aren’t getting in?,” you asked. “Oh Heavens no. All those boys are too rowdy right now,” Kerry said with a laugh. “I hear you. I wouldn’t mind swimming just in general especially with this heat, but I’m not doing anything like that until I make sure my foot is all healed up,” you replied. “That’s for the best, sweetie,” she replied.
You all talked and laughed. Janie offered you some wine which you quickly declined. “Oh I’m sorry,” she said, thinking she’d done something wrong. “No, no, no. It’s fine. I didn’t take any offense. I’m just too much of a light weight. I don’t want Sy to have to carry me outta here,” you told her. “Girl I live off wine, coffee, and willpower,” she laughed.
“So how was your date last night? I saw the pictures,” Kerry Beth said. “Me too. Y’all looked so cute,” Janie added. “It was really great. The food was good. The company was even better,” you said looking out at Sy. He caught your eye and gave you a wink, making you blush.
After awhile everyone was ready for dessert. You were complimented heavily on your pies. “Thanks so much,” you told everyone shyly. “Can she cook food this good, Sy?,” Nick asked. “Hell yeah she can,” Sy replied. Nick gave him a look. “What’s that about?,” you asked. “Just a little nod of approval, not that you need it. My little brother is grown and can make his own choices, but I’m happy for him. Seems like he found himself a good woman,” Nick replied.
“I think that went really well,” you told Sy as he drove you home. “Yeah me too. Come here,” he said motioning for you to scoot across the bench seat. You wrapped your arms around him and laid your head on his shoulder. “I did miss having you to myself though,” he whispered. “You’re just a big cuddle bear, aren’t you?,” you asked, making him laugh. “I reckon I am. I like having my baby close to me,” he replied before kissing the top of your head.
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Johanna “Jo” Collins (OFC)
Parts Masterlist
Series summary: Johanna “Jo” Collins and Walter Marshall have grown up in the same small town. Their parents are friends, and they’ve known each other for as long as they can remember. When both of them are back in town to visit, they meet again after many years. And although their lives have taken major turns in the meantime, some things may never change. Or will they?
Part summary: Of goodbyes and beginnings.
Word count: ca. 3.2k
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, mention of sex, fluff, angst, melancholy, alcohol, alcohol problem/addiction, concern about kids and parents.
Author's note: Lovelies, the story of Walter and Jo is slowly coming to an end, and this is probably the last regular chapter. As far as I can tell right now, there will be one or two epilog-ish chapters coming up for you. Until then, happy reading! 💕
As always not beta’d, and English is not my native language, so you’d better be prepared for mistakes.
Jo
“I really suck at saying goodbye,” I mumbled, scrunching my nose while I kept my gaze directed to the neck of Walter’s t-shirt.
A glimpse of his chesthair showed above the black fabric, instantly reminding me of how it had felt rubbing against my bare breasts not even an hour ago when he had thrown me onto the bed on the spur of the moment, taking me right there in the middle of the neatly-folded clothes he was just about to pack. Hasty, feverish, like in a rush. As if it were the last time.
Now, we stood in front of his parents’ house, packed up and ready to go. Richard and Teresa had already made their way back inside, leaving the two of us alone after hugging their son and me goodbye.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you more often, my sweet girl,” Teresa had chirped as she hugged and squeezed me firmly.
“We both do,” Richard had added in his calm manner and with a twinkle in his eye.
They seemed genuinely happy to see us together, and I couldn’t help thinking how different their reaction was compared to my father’s.
I hadn’t spoken to Dad since I had rushed out of the house after our argument yesterday morning. I had sent him a quick message so as not to worry him when I had decided to spend the night at the Marshalls’ house, but he hadn’t even bothered to reply. Maybe he was out to get wasted again, and the mere thought made my jaw clench.
Walt captured my chin between his fingers, gently tilting my head back. And his touch and the sight of him were enough to banish every other thought to the back of my mind.
He looked so beautiful, with the morning sun shining on his halo of dark curls and the warm glance in his eyes. He smiled as our gazes met, and nothing could have stopped the smile tugging at my lips.
“Just like that, sunshine,” he mumbled as he dragged his thumb along my bottom lip and his hand cradled my cheek.
I turned my head to plant a kiss on his finger. And then, his digit was replaced by his lips melting against mine while my body melted into his embrace.
While goodbyes usually seemed tinged with bitterness, this one tasted light and sweet. And so did even our longing lingering on my tongue. Because we knew this goodbye wouldn’t be for long. And because we knew we were only at the beginning of something. At the beginning of a journey.
All that still felt so unexpected it hadn’t ceased to amaze me yet. So stunning I felt like walking on air. And still, so familiar. So right.
I snuggled closer in an attempt to soak up the sensation of his arms wrapped around me, and his body pressed flush against mine before he would withdraw every moment.
At first, he didn’t seem to have plans on doing so, and he continued to kiss me, undeterredly savoring the sensation of our mouths moving in sync. He drew out the kiss until it slowly ebbed away like a wave in the sand, but he didn’t loosen his embrace. Instead, he pulled me closer, leaning his forehead against mine.
“It won’t be long. Friday night,” he reminded me, searching my gaze as he brushed his nose along mine.
And all I could do was stare into his beautiful eyes and at his long, dark lashes, casting little fan-shaped shadows on the skin underneath.
“Okay,” I just whispered.
He took a deep breath, and then he let go of me, taking a step back. Our gazes remained locked, bridging the distance between us. Nevertheless, I instantly missed the heat of his body, and goosebumps bloomed on my skin as a light breeze brushed along my bare arms and legs. I hadn’t even thought about taking a jacket with me when I had taken flight from my father’s house yesterday.
“Here, you can have mine,” Walt said, slipping out of his black hoodie jacket.
It was the same one he had lent me four days ago at my dad’s birthday party. And I was wearing the same dress as that night.
His smile told me that he remembered as well. And both of us chuckled at the comicalness of the situation as he handed me his jacket.
“I spent the rest of that night thinking about how cute you looked in that dress and my jacket,” he said as he watched me put it on.
“Well, it's also very cozy.” And it smells so good, I silently added, not to sound weird. “I’m afraid I can’t promise you’ll get it back this time,” I smirked, nestling my cheek against the soft fabric.
“It’s all yours,” he mumbled, taking a step forward to pull up the zipper for me. “And so am I.”
He had said it modestly, almost casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal. But the way my body reacted to his words proved that it very well was.
My movements faltered for a few seconds. A bright smile spread across my face, and when I opened my mouth to say something, all that came out was a breathless gasp. Instead, the butterflies which had taken quarters in my stomach lately made themselves felt. And I couldn’t tell what warmed me more - the cozy hoodie or his words. Or the smile playing on his lips as I threw myself into his arms to offset my lack of words with kisses.
“And I’m yours,” I breathed against his lips at some point, and this time, he was the one struggling for words.
We ended up smiling at each other, two idiots in love. We were smiling as we hesitantly moved apart. As he got into his car. And as we waved goodbye while he drove off.
I was still smiling as I got into my car and on my way to Dad’s house. And the corners of my mouth only sank when I pulled into the driveway.
Dad’s car was parked in front of the house, so he was at least at home.
After closing the front door behind me, I stopped in the vestibule, listening carefully. But not a sound was to be heard.
“Dad?” I called, making my way toward the living room. “Dad, are you there?”
No answer.
As I passed the kitchen door, an unmistakable smell made me stop dead in my tracks. And my heart began to race as I entered the room.
Several empty bottles were lined up on the counter, and I recognized the content of Dad’s liquor cabinet. Whiskey, Brandy, Scotch.
The pungent smell hanging in the air made me scrunch my nose in disgust, but the sight of a half-full Whiskey glass hit me like a punch to the gut. Fuck, had he drunk all of it?
“Dad!” I called, my voice high-pitched with a twinge of panic as I whipped around to search the house for him.
The living room looked like it always had for as long as I could remember, with the worn-out checkered couch, Dad’s dusty guitars on the wall, and the coffee table his father, my grandpa, had built from a wooden ammo box.
I frantically looked around the room for any sign of him, and as my gaze lit on the windows and the back porch outside, I saw that the patio door was open a crack. I hurried toward it, and just when I was about to fling it open, I saw him.
Dad sat on the stairs of the back porch, staring into the distance. He held a photo in his hands. And on the floorboards next to him was the box with our old family photos none of us had managed to stick into an album in the past 20-plus years.
After standing riveted to the spot for a moment as my feet refused to move, I slowly stepped onto the porch.
He didn’t turn his head, but I saw him taking a deep breath. Bracing himself. And so did I.
Neither he nor I said a word as I sat down next to him, and we remained silent for several minutes, staring at the treetops of the pines and birches gently swaying in the wind.
Dad smelled like the soap, hand cream, and detergent he had been using since forever. And he looked clear and sober. For the first time in like three days.
“I’ve screwed it up, haven't I?” he finally said, keeping his gaze directed into the distance.
“What do you mean?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Being a good father for you,” he then mumbled slowly.
There was a catch in his voice, and I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep the tears from flooding my eyes before I was able to even think about an answer.
“No,” I finally objected, shaking my head. “You haven’t screwed that up, Dad.”
“I remember that night,” he said abruptly, raising his hand with the photo he had been holding.
It was a picture of me on the night of the father-daughter dance in fourth grade. I was wearing a blue glitter dress with a matching ribbon in my pinned-up hair that had taken Mom half an hour and several attempts. Probably blood, sweat, and tears, too. My outfit looked like Cinderella, just like I had wanted, and the man standing next to me was wearing his best suit and a bowtie. Grandpa and I were smiling brightly at the camera, and you could only guess that I had cried an hour before the picture was taken because Dad had called to tell me he wouldn’t be able to make it on time.
“Your mom was so mad at me, and so were you,” he muttered, his gaze still glued to the picture.
“I had been looking forward to going to that dance with you for weeks,” I shrugged.
“I know. I’m sorry, smiley,” he said, and then he raised his gaze to look at me.
“It was just a dance,” I reassured him, involuntarily wondering how something that had seemed so important that night had shrunk to just a dance in hindsight. “It was still a great night, you know? Grandpa taught me how to waltz. Or so he said,” I grinned, and both of us chuckled as we remembered Grandpa’s dancing skills.
And then tears blurred my vision as I remembered how that photo of us had hung in my grandparents’ living room until the day he had died nine years later.
“I’m not only sorry for that night but also for all the other times when I couldn’t be there for you,” Dad said hoarsely, and I swallowed hard when I saw that his eyes had become moist as well.
“Do you remember why you couldn’t be there that night?” I asked after a moment that I had needed to regain my voice.
“I do,” he sighed, running his hand over his forehead. “We were called to an eviction earlier that day. A woman and her two kids - a toddler and a baby, just a few months old. She was very young herself, and the kids’ father was nowhere to be seen, as is mostly the case. Both kids showed serious signs of neglect and abuse, so we took charge of them. CPS was overloaded as usual and a long time coming, and we had just managed to calm down the kids and get some food for them. And I just didn’t have the heart to turn around and walk out the door at that point.”
I nodded pensively, thinking about what I would have done in that situation. Maybe I would have made the same decision.
“Do you know what has become of them?” I asked after both of us had been gazing into the distance for a moment.
“No. I mean, the mother probably lost custody, which means protectory for the kids if no relatives could jump in. And then the common paths from there on. I still think about them every once in a while,” Dad admitted, and I could only imagine how many other cases had left their traces on him.
“I don’t reproach you for not having been there all the time, Dad. I won’t lie; I was disappointed sometimes and wished you were. But I saw that you tried, even back then. That you would have been there if you could. And I guess I understand you better now that I’m older. With a full-time job of my own, a divorce of my own, and a life to handle. And I also remember all the times when you were there, you know? I remember how you took leave for my graduations and how you prepared my lunch box every day. I remember how you showed me how to iron a blouse and how to change the oil and a tire when I got my first car. And I know that you asked Teresa to show you how to dance a spin without stepping on my wedding dress,” I added, grinning.
“She swore she wouldn’t tell you. I’m going to kill her,” he grumbled, and I laughed out loud. “No wait, scratch that, I already have enough trouble with Walter.”
And he darted a cautious sideglance at me.
“I’d rather say you have enough trouble with me,” I said with a serious look, shaking my head as I thought of his behavior yesterday morning. “What did you even think you were doing? I always thought you liked him?”
“I do like him, Jo. He’s a good man, without a doubt. Just… Hell, I don’t know what I was thinking, to be honest,” he admitted, guilty hunching his shoulders. “I guess I was trying to protect you from the big bad world, and I forgot that you fired me from that job years ago.”
“I see where you’re coming from, and I appreciate it, Dad, but you overshot the mark,” I clarified. “Walt and I have been making and living with our own decisions for a whole long while now. You had no right to say the things you said. Don’t even get me started on how you said it.”
“I know. I know, and I’m so sorry, smiley. It won’t happen again, I promise,” he apologized sheepishly.
I knew he meant it. At least for the moment. But it wasn’t the first time he had something to say sorry for. Moreover, it was just another apology in a long-ass row of apologies.
“Good,” I just replied. “You’ll probably see him more often from now on, you know?”
“That serious, huh?”
“Hmm,” I confirmed, and I felt my cheeks grow hot under his inquiring gaze and his knowing grin making him look at least ten years younger.
But just a second later, the smile suddenly vanished from his face.
“Shoot, I have to fix this, haven’t I?” he uttered, running his hand over his face. “Apologize to him and stuff. Will he come here today?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He had to leave earlier than planned because he got called in for work.”
Dad nodded. And if he thought, ‘I told you,’ he carried it off quite well.
“Sorry to hear that,” he just said in a neutral tone. “Dammit, ugh, how do I do this now? If he were a girl, I’d send him flowers. I can’t send him flowers, can I?”
He had started to ramble, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his increasing desperation.
“I’m sure he’d be delighted,” I chuckled, laughing harder as I imagined Walter’s face if he’d receive a pretty little flower bouquet, only to see it was from my dad.
“But I’m sure you’ll manage to come up with something else,” I grinned, admittedly without pity, patting his back.
He nudged me with his shoulder. Like he always did. And I wished this would have been the end of our conversation. Love, peace, and harmony. But there was more to talk about. And it was the same elephant that had taken up room between us for so many years.
“Dad? What happened with the bottles in the kitchen?” I asked quietly, hugging my knees as I watched his shoulders slouch.
“I poured it all away,” he mumbled without looking at me. "Tried to get rid of bad habits, I guess."
I involuntarily stiffened at that kind of sugarcoating, but he took a deep breath before I could say something in return.
“I… might need help,” he said very slowly, haltingly, as if he had to force every syllable out of his mouth.
I took a moment to let his words sink in.
I knew it was too early to feel joy. I knew there were so many things that could go sideways. Maybe he would change his mind. Maybe he wouldn’t make an appointment to see a doctor. Maybe he would cancel it or would just not show up. Maybe he wouldn’t like what the doctor would tell him. Maybe he would quit therapy or wouldn’t even start it. Maybe he would backslide. Who knew.
And still, it was the first time he had said it. The first time in more than 20 fuckin’ years. I could only guess how long he had sensed it and hadn’t been able to accept it. And how much strength it had taken him to actually say it aloud.
“You will get help,” I said, reaching for his hand.
There was nothing else to do or say for the moment. And so we just sat like that for a while. But just for once, I allowed myself to hope that everything would be okay after all. And maybe he did the same.
The rest of this day was weird. I installed updates on Dad’s computer and took care of his smartphone problems before packing my stuff and preparing to go home tomorrow. And all the time, I was hovering in the air somewhere between the comfort of home that I still felt in this place and the restlessness and optimism only departures and new beginnings bring in its wake.
After dinner, Dad and I remained sitting on the back porch, alternating between banter and peaceful silence, like we always did, until the sun had set and fireflies whirred through the darkness.
All day long, Walt had sneaked into my thoughts over and over again, and when I finally returned to my room, I found a message from him waiting for me on my phone.
Friday night, sunshine. I miss you.
I leaned my head against the edge of the window bay, gazing down at the phone in my hand as I thought about his words.
I miss you.
I. Miss. You.
Three words I had never given much thought before, and that could mean so much.
I can’t wait to see you again.
I care about you.
I want to be around you.
I need you.
I love you.
And I smiled as I gazed into the night outside while the words I wanted to say back at him echoed in my heart.
to find the light, we must first touch the darkness
Please also check out @bluepinkangel’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤
dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader
summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.
warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; D/s undertones; public humiliation; groping; dirty talk
I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜
word count: 4k
Touch the Darkness Masterlist
Main Masterlist
5. Breaking ice
~ * ~
You’ve never been more annoyed with a sunny day and warm lightness filling your bones than you felt the day after the apothecary incident. Extra bounce to your step as the sun stroked your face and corners of your lips threatening to curl up irked you immensely.
Every other minute you tried to force yourself into a stormy mood.
Into an expected reaction to what has happened.
You faced direct danger, witnessed people being killed in cold blood, you were trapped in a relationship with a fucking mobster, who - on top of it all - screwed your body and mind in a most wicked, deranged way.
You shouldn’t be feeling cheery. That reaction was inadequate to the situation and to the moral norms you thought you possessed.
Either Rogers had that strong of an impact that you quickly bent to his dark whims, or the spine you thought you had always been a noodle not a steel rod.
This is such an addictive series. I love how it’s progressing. The twists and turns are incredible.
You’re someone I view as a brilliant writer, but it seems like with each installment of this, you get even more brilliant! Thank you so much for sharing your writing
You’re in the middle of cooking when your phone pings, it’s the delicate stage where the food will stick to the bottom of the pan if you don’t continue stirring, but curiosity always wins out, especially when you see a number you don’t recognise pop up. As a rule you’re a cautious person, it was part of your job, but this was your phone, you’d been the one to add in the extra strength anti hacking, anti viral, anti spyware, anti everything technology to its hardware, so you were certain that this was just some sort of error on someone’s part.
You quickly turn the heat down, humming along to the upbeat music that’s emanating from the speakers, and look at the screen. There’s no message, just an image, so after waiting a moment, you let the curiosity win out and open the message.
And promptly choke on air, the humming coming to a violent end. The image is of a man taking a selfie, you can’t see his face, but what you can see is… very, very attractive.
Whoever he is, he’s buff, both arms very well muscled, and he’s well dressed. The tank top and slacks may look casual but they’re clearly expensive, and the chain and rings that he’s wearing look like they’re made from gold-
So… what do you think?
You jump at the message, and look around your kitchen suspiciously, somehow expecting the mysterious man to be standing behind you, judging you for choking in lust at a partial selfie. Obviously there’s no one there, so you quickly type out a response;
I think you have the wrong number.
The dots pop up, and then the man responds;
Amy?
Nope, not Amy. Sorry.
You’re mildly irritated at not being Amy - whoever she was was lucky to be receiving this man's tanned and enticing torso - but you shrug and put your phone down, turning back to your food, but that’s when it pings again.
Aw shit, I’m sorry I sent that to you.
Mistakes happen, it’s ndb.
NBD?
You narrow your eyes at the screen, but a smile tugs at your lips.
No Big Deal.
Oh. That would make sense.
NBD.
>:(
You snort at the angry emoji, and then put your phone back on the counter, ready to start serving up your food, but then it pings again.
I think Amy gave me the wrong number.
Well yeah as you’re texting me.
Maybe it’s for the best. Anyway, I’ll leave you be. Have a good evening.
You too.
You worked for Shield as a hacker and software developer, you’d seen the absolutely horrible things people could do in situations like this, so seeing this guy back away calmly was a nice change. Your finger hovers over the block button… but you leave it. He wouldn’t be messaging again anyway.
So, did you send that pic to anyone?
The message pings as you’re idly scrolling the news feed on your phone whilst some rom-com plays in the background on your TV and you frown,
Who would I send it to?
Girlfriends? Or maybe a boyfriend?
Why would I send it to my boyfriend? I don’t even have a boyfriend.
Irritation burns in your gut at that, you knew better than to give away information like that, but it had been so long since anyone had even remotely taken an interest in you.
Really?
Yes really.
It’s not that you didn’t want someone in your life, it’s just that the man you did want didn’t have a clue you existed, and he wasn’t the type of man you could just cutely ask on a date.
It’s so embarrassing that I sent that to the wrong person.
Don’t feel embarrassed. You look great.
Thanks 🙂
I would never feel confident enough to send a picture like that.
I wouldn’t have been confident enough a year ago either. But the right person can change that.
You think Amy is the right person after she gave you the wrong number?!
I meant a therapist and a personal trainer, but sure, make me out to be shallow 🙁
Another laugh bubbles out of you,
I didn’t mean it like that!
I know, I was just checking ;)
Jerk
You’re still smiling when the mystery man sends another winking emoji, but you don’t respond. You’ll probably block the number tomorrow, but for now, you just enjoy the rest of your movie.
You’d almost forgotten about the mystery torso man when he suddenly appears in your inbox the following evening. Part of you wants to ignore him, all you want is some take-out food and a bath to drown your sorrows after a really bad day, but the other part of you welcomes his interruption. For a complete stranger, he doesn’t stress you out. Maybe it’s because you can’t see him, there’s no deep voice or penetrating eyes to make you uncomfortable. Even the beautiful body glimpsed in the accidental selfie you’d received didn’t bother you, not when it was probably a half decent attempt at catfishing anyway, and since it hadn’t been meant for you, you could excuse it and let it slide.
It’s not like you were planning on meeting the man, anyway.
Hey Wrong Number Girl, I hope you had a good day today.
BTW, tell me if you want me to delete this number.
BTW BTW did you see that I know some acronyms now?
Hi Selfie Guy. Listen, I’ve had a really crappy day. I’ll talk to you later.
No you don’t need to delete my number.
Well done on knowing basic text speak in 2023 <3
What happened today? Do you want to talk about it?
It hurt that this complete stranger cared more than anyone that actually knew you, your heart twisted a little at his gentle probing, so you quickly type out a response,
Just a boss of mine yelled at me.
It hadn’t been so much of him yelling at you, then your boss had absolutely eviscerated you because there had been a successful low level hack in some of the employee databases for the SHIELD workers. None of it was dire, but it was an area you were responsible for.
“It’s not good enough, Y/L/N! Fix this mistake! Another error like this and…” He’d glared at you and stalked off, leaving you with the knowledge that this shouldn’t have happened, you had had no idea of how it could happen… and that your crush had been outside the cubicle you worked in and heard the whole thing.
Want me to kill him?
Yeah, sure, just let me have a bath in peace.
Thank you though. It’s sweet you would offer.
TTYL.
(I learned another one!)
You can’t help it. You smile.
You don’t hear back from your Selfie Man for the rest of the night, and you’re quietly grateful, it means you have time to work on the issue that you’d nearly been arrested for. You hadn’t been able to figure it out in the pressure cooker hours in your cubicle, but now you’re safe back in your home it becomes clearer almost instantly, and you quickly remedy the situation before sending a thorough report off to your boss. It’s silly really, it’s an amature attempt to hack information, the most the hacker could've got was low level staff’s numbers or emails, and that was for their personal information, not even anything that SHIELD issued.
You shrug it off and conclude that it was probably teenagers, and suggest that maybe the IP should be monitored, maybe this person was someone SHIELD could recruit in the future - or add to a watchlist.
You expect to have a more formal meeting when you’re in the next morning but you’re told your boss had left and handed in his notice with immediate effect. Instead, you have the meeting with your new boss, and your report is signed off.
You don’t say it, but you’re more relieved than you had expected. Just over a year ago you had been given this opportunity, and you wanted it to work. You wanted this big work environment, you wanted to feel like you belonged, that you mattered, that people cared. You weren’t a loner by choice, you had always wanted friends, but people were harder to talk to then you liked. Computers had always been where you could turn to relax, so when you were recruited, you’d hoped you’d be with people like you, make real connections.
So far you were no better off, you had a cubicle in a small windowless room, surrounded by others, with almost no contact because, of course, everything was highly sensitive.
Still, you liked your work. Maybe you could get promoted to working directly with Maria, Fury… The Avengers.
Did you have a better day today, Wrong Number Girl?
I did, Selfie Guy. How about you?
Me too! I was able to help a friend out, which always makes me happy.
That’s nice. I hope they appreciate it.
I’m sure they will.
I mean they DO.
But I’m hoping they’ll show me. One day.
You’re eating a mouthful of food, and your smile drops a bit.
Is this Amy?
No! But yeah… a girl.
Had a crush for a while.
She doesn’t know though.
You should tell her!
I will, when the time is right.
What about you?
Your crush’s face pops into your head, and just the thought of him makes your face burn.
Oh, I don’t have a crush.
Your mysterious friend takes so long to reply that you almost think he’s gotten busy or has finally decided that texting a wrong number doesn’t a friendship make, but then he comes back after another hour and you’re reading in bed,
So, what’s your favourite movie?
You just don’t see the harm, the danger, the worry. The mystery man is nice, and you’re lonely, so you talk well into the night. The sun's rays are kissing the edges of your curtains when you yawn so wide your jaw cracks,
I should go. I’m supposed to be at work in an hour.
Okay.
Thank you for talking to me so much.
Thank you.
Hey.
What’s your name?
Another pause, you think maybe he’s fallen asleep - you certainly want to - but then he comes back once more,
It’s James.
Now you, doll.
It’s Y/N.
That’s a real pretty name, Y/N.
Thank you for being my friend.
You should sleep.
Sadly you can’t do that, but you don’t tell your friend - James - you just tell him you’ll call in and then say goodbye.
When you get to work you see your crush, and once again he looks like he could kill you with just a look. Bucky stares right at you as you walk to your cubicle, and your heart rate speeds up, but not so much in lust for a change. Bucky looks furious with you, but you have to remind yourself, he looks that way most of the time, you once saw him glaring as he ate a cupcake for god’s sake. Besides, he doesn’t even know you, you’ve never spoken to him in your life, so what could he possibly be furious at you for?
You chalk it up to your exhaustion, and forget about it.
So, I got a question to ask you, doll.
Oh?
It had been three months since James had accidentally sent you his selfie, and in that time you could admit to yourself that he was the best friend you’d ever had. Every evening after coming home you would see a message from him, and almost the entire night was spent with him almost as well as if he had been in the room with you. You would giggle over his teasing as you cooked and cleaned, you’d pause shows and books so you could send long ranting messages about everything from work to fiction, and you would crawl into bed at the end of the night with his words shining at you in the dark.
James was your best friend… but you might be falling in love with him too.
Do you trust me?
Is that the question?
You know I do, dumbass.
And the crazy thing was; you did. James had never done anything to make you scared of him, he’d never pushed for more personal information from you, he’d given you space when you needed it, and even though you texted each other most days, he clearly had a life, there had been times when he wouldn’t be in touch because he had to travel for work.
My ass is great actually, it’s not dumb!
Well, that’s just what someone with a dumb ass would say.
You go hot thinking about his ass though. You still didn’t know what he looked like, he’s only ever sent you that one picture, and he had never asked you to send one in return… but you just knew he would be gorgeous all over…
Y/N… I am crazy for you. Would you consider meeting up with me?
Your mind hazes for a split second, and the words on the screen blur. You start to type a response, but then stop, you try again, and mess the words up…
I’ve been falling for you since I first knew you. I’ve never been this close to anyone.
I want to know this last part of you, but a beautiful face to a beautiful name.
What if I don’t live up to that, James?
You know all my likes and dislikes, and you know about the crazy dream I had two weeks ago where I was a mermaid, but seeing me might destroy something.
I’m not sure I’m ready to lose you.
I’ll only disappoint you.
You could never disappoint me, doll.
You just stare at that response, trying so hard to think of some way to make him understand that he inevitably would be disappointed with you because everyone always was. You couldn’t keep friends, you hadn’t had a lover in such a long time that you didn’t want to think about it. You were a loner by design if not by choice, and he was the only person who had ever even tried to know you better. The friendship would break if it became real.
I get so excited when I know I’m about to talk to you, I smile when I think about being able to hear your voice in my ear.
I love seeing you tell me everything that has been bothering you at work, but I want to be able to hold you when you’re that stressed out.
I want you to be the person I come home to after I travel.
And you know what, doll?
“What?” You whisper to the room as if he can hear you, but he replies anyway, like he’s on a roll,
I bet you get excited over me too.
I bet if you were to touch yourself now that you’d be wet just thinking about how well I would kiss you.
“Fucking shit…” Your thighs clench, your heartbeat pounds, your fingers trail over your stomach…
I’m hard just thinking about it.
And not just kissing your mouth.
I want your other lips.
I want to taste you so badly.
You’re not responding to him, but James obviously knows you’re reading the messages, he knows you well enough, and you read breathlessly, fingers circling your clit as he continues,
Your mouth would feel so good wrapped around me.
I bet you’d swallow.
I know no one will take care of you like I will.
I just want to have a chance showing you how much I’ll love you.
James is being crude, so crude you almost giggle like an immature teenager, but you don’t stop touching yourself, and after another moment you come against your hand. It’s been a long time since you’d done that, and the loneliness was almost too much in that moment. You’re sticky, you’re alone, and this man - a stranger who’s not a stranger - he wants to be with you. He likes you, he’s stuck around, and he wants you.
And if you meet him and you’re not actually compatible and he does desert you? Well… it’s not like you weren’t used to it.
Baby?
I’m sorry.
I came on too strong.
FUCK!
I’m so sorry!
Please don’t block me, please don’t hate me, I just wanted you to know I don’t need to see your face to know I love you.
Will tomorrow evening be too soon?
James sends a string of gifs showing how excited and happy he is, and you laugh in the darkness. You make plans to meet at a restaurant tomorrow evening, a big family place a couple of blocks over from Times Square, large and loud and always filled with people. You fall asleep with a smile on your face.
You had had to call in sick to work, your nerves threatened to choke you throughout the day, you couldn’t eat, couldn’t do anything other than panic over every last possible outcome, and then have a manic two hours in the bathroom pampering and scrubbing and shaving and making yourself look as perfect as humanly as possible.
You might want to sleep with James, desperately, especially after what he’d texted the night before, but ideally you wanted to wait until at least another month after regular dates. Primping and adding makeup and wearing pretty underwear just made you feel more confident, that’s all.
You leave your apartment with plenty of time, you wanted to be there before James, to get your bearings and take a moment before he appeared. You step into the elevator, eyes down and focused on the screen of your phone where a message has just pinged, and you frown,
I couldn’t wait.
“What?”
By the time you realise there’s someone at your back in the elevator, it’s too late, the needle pricks the side of your neck, and you fall into a stranger's arms.
You wake but it’s hard to open your eyes. Everything is dark, you’re too hot, and you’re too cold, you feel stifled and restricted, whilst also feeling weightless and light, like the touch of a breeze would send you reeling away like dandelion fluff or like a rubber ball bouncing or like-
Your head clears between one breath and the next, and you wish you’d never woken up.
You’re in the lap of a man, straddling his hips, your arms are tied at your back, and his mouth is at your chest. The buttons on the pretty silk shirt you’d worn are open to the waist, your beautiful lace bra has been opened and is pushed up and over your head leaving you essentially naked from the waist up and his tongue is carefully tracing over one nipple whilst your other is being rolled between two fingers.
Two metal fingers.
“Bucky?!”
“Hi, doll, I’m sorry, I know I should’ve waited, but you looked so fucking hot against my sheets, I couldn’t wait anymore.” His blue eyes peer up at you, his words punctuated intermittently by his continued fondling and tasting of your breasts, “You’ve got such great tits, I needed them in my mouth.”
“What the fuck is this?! Let me go! Stop it stop it stop it!” You struggle against his hold, shrieking and moaning as he holds you against him, one hand at your hip, his lips now at your neck, his breath in your ear,
“It’s me, sweetheart, it’s me, James, come on now, calm down, calm down…” He doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop touching you, and eventually you tire, and collapse against him, tears pouring from your eyes as he lifts you as easily as you would lift a puppy, and walks you over to a bed at your back, laying you against it and coming down next to you. You notice then that you’re in a large studio apartment, you can see the skyline through the gigantic windows, the place is minimalistic but beautiful, and you’ve never been so scared in your life. Bucky’s hands are still at your breasts, and you close your eyes, trying to block him out.
James, the man you’d trusted everything to, was Bucky Barnes, the scary Avenger that you’d had a long time crush on…
“It can’t be…”
“What can’t, baby?”
“It can’t be you… your picture…”
Bucky presses a quick kiss to your lips, a smile on his face, and you’re too shocked at his apparent joviality to react. He stops touching you long enough to sit up and press something on his left arm, the metal shimmers, and then the dark metal appears as the same beautiful tan colour as his right arm,
“Like it? I worked with Shuri for the upgrade. It’s supposed to help me blend in on missions, and keep me more incognito when I’m out and about, but I knew it would help me with you.”
“You don’t even like me!” You cry out indignantly, squirming when he bends his head and sucks a nipple into his mouth again, grazing his teeth over the peak, “You always look at me like you hate me!”
“Because you don’t take care of yourself and you work too hard!” Bucky comes up for air, a frown on his face, hair dishevelled, “I didn’t know how to talk to you, I promise I was always going to tell you who I was, but I needed to know if you would really like me. Most people are afraid, or they have some dumb kink about my arm. I knew you were different, but I wanted to be sure.”
“Let me go, please, I won’t tell anyone, I won’t, I promise!”
“You’re not going anywhere!” Bucky suddenly grabs you around the neck, the fingers tanned but as firm as the metal they really are, and you go absolutely still. He’s not choking you, but there’s a look in his eyes… “I love you, I have done so much for you, I have looked over you whilst you’ve slept, I’ve kept an eye on you at work, I’ve checked up on you, and I’ve killed for you. Who else can say that?”
Your old boss’s face pops in your brain and a tear falls out of the corner of your eye,
Want me to kill him?
Yeah, sure, just let me have a bath in peace.
Thank you though. It’s sweet you would offer.
Your lower lip trembles, Bucky’s eyes go dark as his own trace the movement,
“I didn’t mean for you to actually kill him, B-Bucky…”
“Be careful what you wish for, baby.” His smile sends a tremor over you, goosebumps rise and again Bucky stares, his eyes fixated on your tits again, “I heard you call my name last night, saw your hand in between your legs… you should be thanking me, Y/N, I could’ve taken you from your bed last night, fucked you then and there and dragged you naked and still leaking my cum.” He sighs when you squirm again, “You need to get used to this. No one is going to miss you, you told me that, and my apartment is soundproof, hack proof, and the windows are made from bullet proof glass and no one can see inside. I could fuck you against them with a CNN helicopter right outside and never make the evening news.” Another kiss to the swell of your breast, and another eerie smile, “I built this place for you when I first saw you last year. I knew it then, that you would be my girl.”
You believe him. Part of you has already accepted that you can’t fight him, that you can’t escape, that you let him into your life and now you’ll pay for it, but you can’t help but show some defiance. You spit at him, satisfied when it lands in his eye and he rears back on a curse,
“You’re a fucking monster! I will never be your girl! I hate you!”
Bucky cleans his eye and stops, his gaze down at the mattress. For a second you think that maybe he’s giving up, maybe he’ll let you go… but then he surges over you, a wildness in his eyes that chills your blood. His fingers press against your jaw, and you open your mouth on a sob of pain, and he promptly spits in your mouth, forcing your jaw closed so you have no choice but to swallow it. You wince when he tears open the top of the jeans you’re wearing, the button flying away somewhere into the large space, and squeeze your eyes shut when he pushes his hand past the hem of your underwear,
“Well, you’d better start loving me, baby. This monster is going to have three fingers buried inside your tight cunt in less than five minutes… let’s see if you’re wet just thinking about it, huh?”
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers
➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
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You wanted to run.
Instead, you hung up the phone, locked the door, and climbed the steps to your room, carefully sitting on the edge of your bed. You didn't think of sleep. Anxiety too high. He said he would be coming for you. Hadn't he taken enough? You heard the echo of a bark and glanced at the window, if you stood you could see across the way, Syverson would be there, Bailey bounding around his feet happily.
He had been unable to look away from her when the two of you saw her and had requested a visit with her. You had been ushered into the small visiting cubicle, the moment she stepped in you had been unable to look away from his bearded face. The pure joy.
Summary- 3.7k Curtis Everett x Plus Sized Reader. Curtis and Honey are spending time at Adler's residence in Florida. Jade takes Reader to a special little boutique where You manage to find some very special dresses that Curtis in particular takes an interest in.
Warnings- These two being their usual selves, can't keep their hands off one another. Some mention of dealing with shopping for Plus-Sized clothes.
A/N- Hey! Thank you so much for reading, sharing, commenting, and sending asks and messages. I so appreciate all of you who have taken an interest in these two. All the love! Edited by the wonderful @what-is-your-plan-today, as always all the love, thanks, and biscuits sent your way. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics
Chapter Nineteen / Masterlist
You and Curtis had been there for a few days when Jade and Mary took you shopping, hitting up some boutiques that much to your surprise actually catered to all sizes of women. When you saw the plus-sized signs filling a good section of the stores, you felt relieved that your day of shopping was going to actually be just that, shopping. Not you simply admiring Jade trying items on and acting like the third wheel because nothing would pull over your hips or go around your bust. Or going to a store that praised having a plus-sized selection and it was just a rack with cast-off designs. You were tired of those trips.
Instead, you browsed fitted tops that were meant to show off your curves, pants that were guaranteed to fit over your hips but didn't look like a stretch waistband nightmare, skirts, and dresses of all varying sizes which included fun sundresses that you fell in love with. Mary helped you sort through them, showing you fun patterns that she felt were cool and you had to agree with her comments. You went with three of Mary’s choices, a black one with white polka dots, a sunflower yellow, and a cream-colored one with a little honey bee pattern scattered all over it.
“Let’s go try them.” You mentioned to Mary as you whisked them off the racks and safely hung them over your arm.
You were already prepared to go into tight-fitting rooms, with the stiff door that usually swung inwards that made you have to press up against the wall to get out of the way. But like the plentiful plus-sized sizes, the fitting rooms were accommodating for you as well. Nice wide rooms were closed off for privacy by dark curtains. Inside the mirrors didn’t dominate the entire room, but were placed along a couple walls, allowing you to look from different angles but wouldn't point out all your flaws in a menacing way. You changed, slipping on the dresses and stepping out to show Mary and Jade.
“Okay, Mary, can you be my designer?” Jade whistled playfully, watching as you spun slowly to show them before stopping once more. “Cause that is adorable Y/N.”
Mary looked with a cynical eye, but soon brightened up with a grin. “Told you it would be perfect.”
You turned to look at yourself in the full-length mirror back in the dressing room. You started from the crown of your head and down, mentally looking at what you considered your problem areas. Jade saw the expression, turning hard at yourself in the mirror, your eyes flitting from place to place in the mirror. Your sister stepped into the room, letting her chin rest on your shoulder as she looked at you through the mirror.
“I know what you're doing… don't.” Your eyes met hers and your face lightened. “You look so good, this dress was made for you.”
“Yeah?” you asked and she nodded.
“Of course, Mary, our fashion expert did pick it out.” Jade pointed out and Mary, now sporting a large white beach hat, poked her head in with an enthusiastic nod. “Plus wait till Curtis see’s you in this.” Jade smirked and you broke into a bigger grin.
“Alright, get out. You convinced me.” You pushed Jade out and closed the curtain, taking a softer look at yourself, instead of picking yourself apart, you admired the way your body looked in the dress. From somewhere off in the store, you could hear Jade and Mary laughing. It made your heart swell at the sheer joy you felt being here with them. Your gaze roamed up and down the dress now, lingering on the soft material dipping low for a peek at your cleavage and the material swaying slightly with your movements. It didn’t cling around your belly in that way most dresses did. Instead it flared at the bottom, giving your legs plenty of movement when you walked. Your thoughts turned towards your ex briefly, knowing he would hate this, it wasn’t sexy enough. But you were quick to force those thoughts from your mind, his opinions no longer meant anything to you.
You loved this dress, and you could already picture Curtis telling you that if you felt good, get it. It only mattered how you felt in it. But you were also hoping Curtis would like it too.
Curtis spent his day with Frank at the marina, getting a crash course on fixing boat engines. He found it fascinating, soaking in the differences between what he typically worked on. Frank, finally satisfied at the end of the day, said it was about time to go, the girls were probably home.
“So what do you think? You ever want to leave that winter wonderland, you can come down here and do this.” Frank patted affectionately against the hull of what looked to be a yacht made for celebrities.
“Well I would need some more training, but it's similar enough that I could pick up on it.” Curtis tilted his head back to look up at the massive boat, whistling softly. “She is a beaut, huh?”
“Yeah, overpriced though. They run these things hard and are willing to pay whatever to get it fixed before next weekend.”
“Sounds like a story I have heard before.” Curtis chuckled softly, recalling all the times Gilliam needed some engine fixed right that minute so they could push it out of the lot and free up the track for another delivery. “Sounds like you have a good thing going.”
“It isn't bad, but I would like to go all proper one day, you know? Get a crew and be able to pick and choose what projects I take.” Frank paused at the truck, taking a glance at Curtis. “One day, right now it keeps us comfortable and with Jade’s help, we were able to buy our house. So no complaints. I am a lucky man.”
Curtis nodded in agreement, unable to disagree with Frank’s statement.
Pulling up to the house was a welcome sight. The change from deep winter in Duluth left him unprepared for the sunny winters Florida offered. He just wanted to shower away the sweat and grime and change his clothes.
But all those thoughts changed as they parked in the garage and you popped the door open leading into the house, stepping out with two beers and a sundress that hugged around your waist and torso while it turned wispy around your hips. The sleeves hung off your arms, leaving you bare shouldered where Curtis just knew that if he pressed his lips there you would make that soft throaty whine telling him that you wanted more. You were glowing happiness right now, reaching them as they approached, you passed the beers off to them.
“Jade is inside, she wanted to know if you wanted to go out tonight.”
“I’m all for it if you are?” Frank questioned and Curtis said it was fine with him. He would have agreed to just about anything to get five minutes alone with you. “Cool, I will go tell Jade. Jump in the shower whenever you’re ready Curtis.” Frank held up the beer, thanking you as he went inside. You tilted your head, listening to Mary give her uncle an enthusiastic greeting and asking him if he liked her new outfit. It made you grin.
“That kid loves her uncle so much.” You observed and reached Curtis who was looking you up and down. “Do you like it? Jade took me to this cute boutique today.”
Curtis rumbled in appreciation, ghosting his hands along your sides till they could settle on the fullness of your hips. The fabric was light feeling, allowing him to feel you under his hands.
“Honey, do I like it? It is a hell of a lot more than that.” He promised, blue eyes heated. You bit your lip at his suggestive nature, looking back up at him with a hint of pride and excitement raising such a compliment out of him.
“How much more Curtis?” You let your hands rise up to his bearded cheeks, scratching lightly through the bristles to wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers toyed with the chain resting there. You seemed to grin coyly, wanting to play with his heightened feelings. “What do you wanna do?”
Curtis arched a brow in challenge, ready to match what you were asking. “I wanna ruck your dress around your waist and bend you over the hood of this truck.” You seem to be suddenly aware that Curtis had you backed up against the door of Frank's vehicle, your eyes widening when Curtis stepped in closer, not pressing into you as much as he wanted to since he was filthy after helping Frank all day, but close enough to keep you pinned in place.
He didn't want to dirty you even though you made him ache.
Your voice went wispy, almost a whisper as you let your fingers hooked in his chain glide to the front, fisting part of the chain and pendant in your hand. “Fuck Curtis, I thought you were just gonna tell me you wanted to kiss me.”
A salacious grin popped on Curtis’s mouth while he gripped your chin lightly between his forefinger and thumb, stroking his thumb against your bottom lip. “Now Honey, you should know me well enough to know I will settle for a sweet kiss from you for now.” He tipped to place one on your open mouth. “But I will always want it all with you.”
You shuddered under his hand, still pressed to your hip, that heated touch grew heavier on you while he pressed his hold tighter against you, a silent promise that he would do just what he mentioned. But now he settled for those kisses. Allowing you to pull him closer, you pressed your lips to his and sought out his touch and taste to fill you. Your mouth pressed to his, moaning softly into it while you grabbed at his dirty sweaty tee shirt to center yourself while kissing Curtis hungrily.
“Careful Pretty Girl, I don’t want to dirty your new dress.” He was gentle to push himself back, making you both pant at the moment before he ran a finger along the dip in the front of your dress. “But I promise too later. How many of these did you get?”
“T-three.” You stuttered still in surprise.
“Ah, well Jade should take you back with my card and get you a few more.”
You should have been ready for Curtis, he was always so upfront with you about what he wanted. But it did take your breath away at the moment, leaving your heart racing as you two went back into the house so Curtis could go take a shower and change for going out to dinner. He gave you an affectionate kiss on your cheek after greeting Jade and Mary in the kitchen before he split away to go get ready.
Jade sidled up to your side while you busied yourself checking your wallet for cash and cards. “So, what did Curtis think?”
You could feel your heart taking a thump at the very fresh memory. Curtis’s blue eyes were taking in every inch of you he could and his touch on your hip was almost possessive through your dress. His promise to explore made you feel good in your new dress. You were glad now you had bought all three.
“He really liked them, a lot.” You emphasized that last work and Jade grinned in victory, tugging your wallet from you.
“Told you so, and stop pretending to count your cash. I got this tonight.” She handed you a set of car keys. “You and Curtis can follow us in my car. Maybe you guys can… take a drive along the coast. Watch the sunset.” She hummed as she walked away from you. “Repeat what you two did last night.”
You sputtered out. “You heard us?”
Jade didn’t answer, just headed to her room to finish getting ready for the evening.
Dinner was superb. Frank and Jade took you all to a seafood joint called Coconuts, which was located on the water with an incredible view. You all ordered seafood of different varieties, with the exception of Mary. Mary insisted on chicken tenders with a hefty helping of barbecue sauce. All of you tried bribing Mary to just take a bite, but she held out while dunking her chicken tenders in the sauce and sinking her teeth into the chicken. You had to admit, the chicken looked just as good as the rest of the food.
Jade also talked you into partaking in a margarita, the brightly colored drink making you feel less inhibited. Your hand frequently rested against Curtis’s thigh under the table, stroking knowingly along his inner thigh, your hand accidentally bumping against the crotch of his pants while you were engaged in conversation with the rest of the group.
A few times you felt Curtis grasp your wrist, pressing your palm right against him and you would give a promising light squeeze. The only tell tale sign you noticed in his features was the red burning up the back of his neck and the tip of his ears. Brighter than the bit of color the sun was starting to give him. Other than that, Curtis never let it be known you were teasing him under the table.
Although he did whisper in your ear at least once that you were driving him fucking crazy while placing a rather affectionate kiss on your neck, making you feel like you were on top of the world in that moment.
As the group left, Jade waved goodbye to you two. Curtis arched a brow in confusion while you wrapped your arm around his. “Jade said we should go for a ride. Enjoy the beach sunset.”
Curtis opened the door for you to get in. “Well, I appreciate that. Remind me to thank her.”
The drive led you two away from Fort Lauderdale, the GPS taking you to a little out of the way beach that was closed. Pulling into the parking lot, it was completely emptied of visitors, the sun inching its way down behind them made the ocean sparkle in its aquatic blue tingles, the waves picking up to crash on the shore. Curtis let the car idle for a moment before turning it off, opening the windows to let the ocean breeze cool you two off.
“This is nice, I can see why Jade moved down here.” You said, Curtis tilted his head considering.
“It is nice, Frank has a great setup at the marina. Just on the verge of becoming a widely known business with the clients he has lined up. He wants to make it all legit, get a crew on hand, start delegating it out instead of doing it all himself.”
“Jade mentioned he was considering giving himself a business name, just wasn't sure yet of what to use.” You fiddled with your dress, smoothing it just below your knees. Curtis watched you a moment before saying your name, making you turn to look at him.
“Honey, you look so beautiful in your new dress.” He said sincerely and that rush came back, your heart excitedly making you feel flutters everywhere.
“Did you mean what you said?” You asked shyly, glancing around the beach momentarily.
“About me wanting you while you are wearing that dress? Every word.” He reached down to let the seat fall back a bit to give room on his lap, patting his thigh. “Come’re Pretty Girl.”
You undid your seat belt and carefully shifted over to straddle him. You were still hesitant to sit all the way down, but Curtis pulled you into his lap, letting his hands run up the sides of your thighs under your flowy sundress. “Jade heard us the other night.”
Curtis hummed while rubbing at your hips and easing you to get comfy in his lap. “Well we were as quiet as possible.” Curtis chuckled as you leaned into him while running your hands against his chest. You started rocking your hips slightly and his hold eased you into a rhythm that felt good to you. Already he was straining at his jeans, sure you didn't help matters any for him in the restaurant with your touches under the table.
“I think I’m glad they heard us.” You admitted, grabbing onto his broad shoulders for leverage. “It turns me on.” You started to grind yourself against Curtis, feeling him getting hard under you.
“You Pretty Girl have yourself a bit of an exhibitionist kink.” He groaned out with a flash of a grin as you rocked your hips to feel him again. “Good thing because I love fucking you everywhere.” He let his head fall back against the seat, his neck flushed with tense tendons while he helped you move on his lap.
You felt the subtle change in him with every movement he was making to help you move, his strength making you crave more. “A first for me, always too shy to ever do anything where we could be caught.” You confessed, your pussy aching now, needing something other than what you were giving yourself. “Curtis, touch me.” You took one of his hands to move onto your breast.
Curtis pressed his palm against you, putting pressure to squeeze and rub against your breast, tilting you to meet his mouth, kissing the tops of your swells and working the top of your dress off enough to be able to suck on your heated flesh, flicking his tongue against you till you were arching your back to get more of his kisses across your chest. Your hand grasped the back of his head to keep him close.
“You taste good Honey.” His tongue dragged over salty warm skin, bracing his hand against your back to keep you moving. “Salty and sweet might be my new combination” The tip of his tongue chased building sweat beads flicking across your skin in the heated car. The ocean breeze and the touch of his tongue on you making you shiver excitedly in his hold.
You were tempted to unbutton his blue dress shirt, let you have access to his broad chest and softer abs to touch while you continued teasing yourself in his lap. But you needed him in other ways right now and you weren’t willing to deny yourself.
Your hands fell to his pants, opening them up to stroke his cock. He hissed against your cleavage, thrusting into your hand, now matching your needs. He hooked a finger in your panties and let them pull aside so you could sink on him. You pushed up on your knees, your hand grasping his cock to press against your weeping opening. Your dress flared out around his lap, hiding away the view although you felt every hard inch of him fuck into you.
Your pussy clenched around his cock as you eased down his length, trying to muffle your moans till he tapped his hand against your ass under your dress.
“Let me hear you Honey, it is just us on this beach. “ You trusted that he checked, had to because your eyes couldn’t pry open while all those horny sensations bled into you feeling really fucking good.
“Curtis, oh god.” You panted out, feeling every inch of him filling you, even now it was almost too much till you started working yourself up and down on his lap, rocking your hips. You tried concentrating, “hitting me just right Curtis-”
He was still focused on your breasts, sucking your nipples while kissing the tender spots. The sun was rapidly going down, throwing you two in the shadows gathering in the car. Curtis’s hips rose to meet you, making you cry out for more. You dug your nails into his shoulders, holding on as you rode him.
“You just keep doing this Pretty Girl, gonna make me fill you up.”
You nodded, pushing back from him enough to buck your hips. Curtis leaned back to watch you, your hand that was planted on his shoulders was now braced against the car's roof, your head fell back to push your tits out and your hips bucking, chasing to come on his cock.
You just needed that last bit of help. You grabbed at Curtis’s hands rubbing up and down your body, shifting them to grab on your ass cheeks. “Pound me.”
“Fuck.” Curtis sputtered hearing you demand him to go harder. He dug his fingers into your bouncing ass and took over. Feet planted and hips thrusting, you bounced on him fast and hard, making you feel every pounding thrust he forced into you, hitting his thick tip right where it had you seeing stars and explosions in your gaze. You squeezed, sucking him into you with an obscene squelch, Curtis let go with one hand, pushing your dress up around your waist to see his cock disappear into your dripping puffy core. He gave a lewd lick to his fingertips and tapped against your clit, making you yelp at the sting but you came, gushing around his cock before sagging back into the wheel behind you. Curtis pushed you back up, leaning you forward into his chest while his thrusts turned frantic, clutching you against him like he couldn’t lose you while he finished.
“Fuck Honey, I gotta come.”
You nuzzled against his ear, whispering for him to fill you. Your pussy clenched him every time you begged him to come in you and a whole other satisfaction filled you when Curtis shuddered in his release.
You shifted against him while he clung you to him, letting your face rub in his sweaty neck as he gasped to catch his breath, committing the taste of him to your senses. You suddenly felt yourself wanting to stay just like this, heated bodies sweat-slick from fucking while being cooled by the salty tang coming in a breeze off the ocean. Curtis was now softer under you, his hands loosened to smooth your dress over your ass, rubbing up and down the small of your back.
“You know how you are a fan of the gray sweatpants?”
You giggled, nipping at his neck in a kiss before answering. “The pants that make me want to go down on you every day? Yes, I’m a big fan of them.”
“I think that’s how I feel about you in these sundresses.”
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Johanna “Jo” Collins (OFC)
Parts masterlist
Series summary: Johanna “Jo” Collins and Walter Marshall have grown up in the same small town. Their parents are friends, and they’ve known each other for as long as they can remember. When both of them are back in town to visit, they meet again after many years. And although their lives have taken major turns in the meantime, some things may never change. Or will they?
Part summary: It’s her dad’s birthday, and things are going a little differently than Jo had hoped.
Author's note: Happy reading, lovelies! And feel free to let me know what you think! 💕 As always not beta’d, and English is not my native language, so you’d better be prepared for mistakes.
The kitchen was a mess. Dirty bowls and other kitchenware, traces of flour and frosting, and leftover candy all over the place. But the cupcakes were ready, and I was already late, and that's why I left everything like it was. I would clean up tomorrow.
Dad had already driven to the pub with most of the cupcakes to welcome the first guests while I had finished decorating the last tray. I carefully set the tray into the cooling box so as not to ruin the decoration and made my way to the bath upstairs. There was not enough time for a shower, so I just gave myself a catlick before brushing my hair and changing into the yellow sundress and a pair of wedges - my party outfit for tonight. I grabbed the cooling box, my handbag, and a denim jacket for later, and off I went.
The drive from the house where I had grown up to Austin’s Brew Pub, located at the quaint harbor, was only a few minutes. And the corners of my mouth curled into a smile as I took in the surroundings: the blue surface of the lake to my left, flashing between houses and trees, and the steeply rising mountains to my right. The lake was calm at this time of the year, but that was going to change in a few months when the choppy winds would pick up and blow fall back into town. Now that time still seemed far away, as everyone was busy soaking up the pleasant warmth of the summer months. And I rolled down the window, taking a deep breath as the scent of pines and the rustling of leaves drifted into the car.
I loved this area, and I loved this small town. Being here made me feel at ease somehow, and it was one reason why fifteen-year-old me had decided to stay instead of moving to L.A. with my mom after my parents’ divorce. I had had to make a couple of hard decisions over the years, but deciding whether I wanted to live with Mom or Dad remained probably the toughest call. How do you choose between the two people you love the most, knowing full well that your decision will be a stab to the heart for one of them? However, Dad had already received a stab to the heart when Mom had moved out. And I didn’t have the heart to leave him as well. And since I had to adjust to the new situation anyway, I had chosen to adjust to it here.
It was only 8:30, but the parking lot behind the pub was already crowded, and I squeezed my car into the last free space. Instead of making my way to the main entrance, I went straight to the backdoor so I didn’t have to edge myself through the crowd with the big cooling box.
The first person I ran into in the kitchen was Austin himself. He owned this place for two decades at least, and his brewpub was more than just a pub here in town. It was also a gathering place for friends, a stop-off for hikers, a venue for family celebrations, and for many loners, a place to eat dinner and spend their evenings. Austin was a character as well as a kind soul, and he instantly took the cooling box from me, passing it on to a server, before he crushed me against his chest.
“Good to see you, sweetheart!” he boomed out. “I hope you’re doing as fine as you look. I bet your dad is more than happy to see you.”
“Thank you, Austin. That he is. Or let’s say he was happy to see me until I suggested decluttering the garage,” I laughed.
“Yeah, he thinks he can hornswoggle us all by acting like an old grump. But we know better, right?” Austin said with a wink. “By the way, he hasn’t been here much lately. And when he was here, he didn’t drink much,” he continued in a lower voice.
“That’s good, I guess," I said hesitantly, and my lack of enthusiasm was probably clearly audible.
“Yeah, I guess so, too,” he shrugged.
Both of us knew that state could change anytime. All it took was an extraordinarily bad day. Or an extraordinarily good one.
“Thanks for keeping an eye on that, Austin. I really appreciate it,” I sighed, and I absolutely meant what I said.
“Not for that, sweetheart. I’m sorry about you and Marc, by the way. But don’t worry, hun. Maybe it simply wasn’t meant to be. And you’ll find someone else, I’m sure.”
“Thanks, Austin,” I mumbled, a bit embarrassed, just like every time someone approached me about my divorce. “I should probably go join the others now.”
“Do so, sweetheart. And don't forget to enjoy yourself, okay? What can I get you to drink?”
“A coke, please.”
“Coming up!”
“There’s my girl!” Dad hollered as soon as he saw me. “Let’s hear it for Jo, my wonderful daughter who also provided us with those delicious cupcakes over there!” he called on the other guests, raising his glass, and my cheeks grew hot as all eyes focused on me. I raised my glass in return, helplessly chuckling as everyone vociferously drank a toast to me.
“Dad!” I hissed after I had made my way to the bar table where he and a few friends had taken up position.
“Yeah, sorry, I know public appearances aren’t your favorite,” he chuckled as he gave me a hug, and I involuntarily stiffened when I perceived the smell of booze on him. As I gently broke away from him, I saw the table was plastered with beer and shot glasses, and an already half-empty bottle of hooch.
“Have you eaten something?” I asked him quietly.
“Yeah, of course,” he grumbled. However, his slurred speech and the sloppy wave of his hand told me everything I needed to know.
“Can I get you some water or a coke or something?” I made another attempt, but Dad just made a gesture of refusal. “I’m fine. Go and enjoy yourself!” he invited me or rather dismissed me.
There was nothing I could do to stop him. It was a lesson I had learned the hard way. All I could do was hope that he wouldn't make too much of a fool of himself. And that he wouldn’t get hurt. I gave his arm a gentle squeeze before I hesitantly turned away and made my way over to the buffet, greeting more familiar faces on the way.
I had just loaded my plate with Austin’s famous chicken tenders, sweet potato fries, and honey mustard dip when I ran into Walter's mom.
“Jo! Come here, my girl, let me give you a big hug. It’s so good to see you,” she greeted me with a bright smile as she pulled me into her arms. And I hugged her back, genuinely happy to see her. Teresa Marshall and my mom had been friends since their kindergarten days. I knew they had tried to stay in close touch after my parents' divorce, but living so far apart had proved difficult, and they only talked once in a while by now.
“How is your mom doing, sweetheart?" she asked me right after she had ushered me to a free bar table. "I still miss her terribly.”
“I know she misses you, too," I said with a smile. "Otherwise, she’s doing fine, I guess. I talked to her two weeks ago. She still lives in L.A. with her boyfriend, and she still manages her coffee shop. I don't think she plans to retire anytime soon."
Richard - Walter’s dad - soon joined us, and as we continued to eat and catch up, I let my eyes wander across the room. To get an overview and to look for familiar faces, as I told myself. To look for one familiar face in particular if I had been completely honest with myself.
“Aww, look at that,” Teresa said at that moment, half pitiful, half amused. “Coach Peterson got his teeth into my poor boy.”
My gaze followed her discreet gesture, and then I spotted him. Walter stood on the other side of the room, dressed in jeans and a gray henley shirt that showed off his burly form. He held a beer in his hand and had his muscular arms casually crossed in front of him as he credibly gave the appearance of being seriously interested in whatever the visibly aged Hockey coach from our high school had to say. And as far as I remembered, Coach Peterson had always had a lot to say.
“Oh boy! He’ll be stuck there for a while,” Richard predicted with a snort.
It didn’t take long until Walter noticed us watching him. And we couldn't help but chuckle as he darted a look at us that clearly called for help. He quickly averted his gaze, and I saw his lips twitch as he tried hard to stifle a laugh. Which only made us laugh harder.
From that moment on, his eyes seemed to follow me. And our gazes met over the heads of the other guests. Again and again. While he exchanged stories with Coach Peterson. While I made my way through the crowd. While I was chatting with acquaintances and friends while constantly keeping half an eye on Dad, whose face reddened more and more and whose eyes grew glassy as he downed one shot after another. Although I knew better, I caught myself wracking my brain for a way to stop him. To be honest, I had loved nothing better than to go home so I didn’t have to watch him getting wasted and so I didn't have to worry about what could happen. But since that option was off the table, I just tried to keep going and put on a happy face - aware of the other guests’ looks. Aware of Walter’s gaze.
It was only when I stared into the mirror in the restroom that I noticed I had been clenching my teeth, probably for quite a while. And I forced myself to take several deep breaths and relax my jaw as I rubbed my temples and my forehead. As if I tried to wipe that freakin’ frown off my face.
When I stepped back into the taproom, I let my eyes wander through the room. As far as the eye could reach, I saw happy faces, people eating and drinking and chatting, clearly enjoying themselves. The party seemed to be a complete success. Only Dad was nowhere to be seen. And an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.
I was just about to ask Austin if he had seen him when a loud voice chimed behind me.
“Well, well! If that ain't Johanna banana!”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head even before turning around. It seemed to be my almost natural reaction to Walter’s brother Charlie, who stood behind me with a giant smirk on his face. And who instantly pulled me into his arms for a hug that nearly made my bones crunch.
“Will you ever stop calling me that?” I grinned after he had released me from his chokehold.
“Nope! Not if you keep dressing like one, that’s for sure,” he chuckled, pointing at my yellow dress.
Although he wasn’t my real brother, he had always teased me like one, regularly hitting my tender spots. Even today, I felt my cheeks grow hot at his silly remark. And he wasn’t done yet.
“I must say divorce looks good on you!” he continued with a grin that was a tad too cheesy for my liking. My god, I knew he meant no harm, but why did he still have to be such a douche after all those years?
“Well, thanks, I guess. But what did you expect? Eyes red from crying and lovesickness writ large in my face? That’s not gonna happen,” I stated with incipient irritation.
“I'm just telling it like it is,” Charlie shrugged nonchalantly. "There's no law against that, right?"
And I wasn’t done pondering whether I should put him in his place as someone else stepped in.
“Do you remember those jiu-jitsu moves I showed you back then?” I heard Walter say, and when I turned my head, I saw him standing just an arm’s length away, smiling at me.
“Unfortunately not. But I could make good use of them right now,” I smiled, darting a thankful look at him.
“Hi,” he said, a bit belated, and then he bent down to give me a careful hug. And I would probably never be able to find the right words to describe that warm and crazy tingle spreading inside of me as our bodies touched and his beard brushed against my cheek.
“Hi,” I breathed with a shaky laugh as I carefully hugged him back, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around him.
The hug ended all too soon, but he remained standing within reach, and maybe it was pure coincidence that he positioned himself between Charlie and me.
“Will you two ever stop ganging up against me?” Charlie grouched, and Walter and I involuntarily shared a conspiratorial gaze and a smile. Just like back then when he had been eight, and I had been six, and we had sneaked up on ten-year-old Charlie in the bushes to recapture Walter’s remote control car that Charlie had stolen from him earlier.
“Nope! Not if you keep asking for it, that’s for sure,” I grinned at Charlie, and when we all burst out laughing, it felt just like back then. As much as we had argued and teased each other, we had also had so much fun together. It had been quite a while since I had last thought of those weekends when we had been little. But now it was all there in my mind’s eye - tree houses, bike rides to the lake, monkeyshines, tobogganing, and backyard barbeques. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one.
“There you are! My God, would you look at you kids - all grown up,” Teresa squealed as she made a beeline to us.
"Mom!" Walter and Charlie groaned in horror.
"What? Seeing the three of you together makes me all nostalgic. It feels like it was just yesterday when you were playing in our backyard. And when I was constantly worried about one of you falling off a tree or you giving each other a bloody nose," she snorted, already back to her old self. I remembered Mom calling her a feisty person in the best way possible and that she was - spirited and handling her three men with aplomb.
Now she rummaged through her handbag, finally pulling out her phone.
"Do me a favor and let me take a picture of you together? I need to capture that moment," she asked or rather urged, gesturing for Walter, Charlie, and me to pose for the camera.
A few seconds later, I found myself between them, arm in arm, as Teresa snapped a few pictures. And I held still while I tried to focus on breathing steadily and smiling for the camera. Nevertheless, my attention was fixed solely on one of the brothers. Walter's body gently pressed against my side, and his hand rested on my waist. His touch was gentle as well, and the warmth of his palm soaked the fabric of my dress and my skin. And that warmth also flooded my veins.
“Now we just need Brian here, and we could take a picture of all of us,” Teresa declared as she was satisfied with our pictures. “Where’s your dad, Jo?”
Shoot.
“I don’t know,” I said as serenely as possible. “I was just going to look for him.”
“Well, bring him here! No one escapes my camera tonight,” she chuckled, and I gave an absentminded laugh as my gaze already roamed the room, once again trying to spot Dad between the other guests.
“I’ll be right back,” I mumbled to no one in particular, keeping my eyes directed to the crowd, although I already knew that I wouldn’t find him there.
Instead, I made my way outside. After a quick look at the parking lot, I determinedly rounded the corner to the side door where the servers usually spent their smoking break. And there he was.
Dad sat on the stairs, leaning his shoulder against the house wall. His arms were folded, and his head hung on his chest. As I stepped closer, I could hear his quiet snoring. And smell the booze heavily hanging in the air.
Idiot. Bloody idiot.
I just remained standing in front of him for a moment, wondering how many times I had already found him here like that. Before I had moved out to go to college, Austin had regularly given me a call so I could come and take him home. And that’s what I would have to do today as well.
“Dad,” I said, shaking his shoulder; gently at first, then more and more determinedly. “Dad! C’mon, wake up.”
Finally, he moved, reluctantly humming. “Leave me alone,” he slurred, trying to shake me off.
“You can’t stay here. It’s too cold,” I objected, reaching for his arm. “C’mon Dad, let me help you get up. You need to go home.”
“But my party…”
“I think you’ve partied more than enough. Let’s get you home and to your bed.”
It took me multiple attempts, but at some point, I had almost managed to pull him to his feet. Almost. Before I knew it, he lost his balance again, heavily leaning on me as he weaved around like a newborn foal trying to stand. A curse fell from my lips as I tried to steady him, and I already feared we would both tumble when someone came closer with quick steps.
“I got you,” Walter muttered as he reached for Dad and me at the same time, somehow managing to keep both of us from falling over.
When my feet were on firm ground again, I took a hasty step back, watching the two men briefly wrestle with each other as Dad tried to squirm out of Walter's grip.
“Brian, calm down. Hey! It’s just me, Walter. You need to go home, man, and I’m afraid you’ll need a little help,” Walter said clearly, and his calm voice and habitual authority had the desired effect.
Dad stopped his efforts to free himself. And then he brought his face close to Walter’s face, staring at him in confusion.
“Walter Marshall?” he asked incredulously, his voice thick with a drink. “What are you doing here?”
Jesus Christ.
“I’m in town for a few days, and you invited me,” Walter explained stoically, slightly narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized Dad as if he wanted to estimate his state.
“I know that! Goddammit, I'm not senile yet,” Dad snapped, and I involuntarily puffed up my cheeks. He was so past it.
"C'mon, Dad," I said as I grabbed his elbow. "Let's go to the car."
Luckily, we didn't come across other party guests as we slowly led him across the parking lot and to my Toyota Camry. A few minutes later, we had maneuvered Dad into the back seat with joint efforts and some persuasion. He began to snore as I buckled him up, and my chest heaved with a sigh as I closed the door. I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before I turned toward Walter, who stood next to me, eyeing me inquiringly.
“Thank you so much for helping me,” I said with a smile that was equally thankful, relieved, and a bit embarrassed.
“Don’t mention it,” he just said, and his gaze roamed my features. “Listen, I’ll be back in a minute. Let me just give my parents a heads up, and then we can hit the road.”
"We can hit the road?”
“I’ll help you get him home, of course,” Walter stated as if that were a given. “So you don’t have to get him out of the car and into the house on your own. And so you don’t have to watch him while driving, just in case he tries to hop off. Or in case he throws up.”
“Oh gosh, I trust not!” I mumbled, and I couldn’t deny that he was right. “Thanks, Walt. That’s… That’s…,” and then I ran out of words.
“It’s no big deal,” he reassured me. “I’ll be right back. Do you have your keys and stuff?”
“Yes, thank you. No, wait. My jacket is still hanging on the coat rack. It’s a denim jacket. And could you tell Austin and your parents…" I trailed off.
Yeah, what should he tell them that they didn’t already know?
“Could you just tell them Dad didn’t feel well and that we’ll take him home?” I asked him sheepishly, scrunching my nose.
“Of course,” he said sympathetically, and for some reason, tears welled in my eyes.
“They all know anyway,” I muttered, shaking my head as I angrily tried to blink the tears away. And a gust of wind made me shiver.
When I heard the sound of a zipper, I turned my gaze on him, just to see him take off his hoodie jacket before he held it out to me. “Here. Take mine until then."
I briefly considered declining his offer, but I was really freezing by now. I hadn’t even noticed before how cold it had gotten.
“Thank you,” I mumbled again, quickly slipping into the jacket. The black hoodie still carried a touch of his body heat, and I shivered again when the cozy lining brushed against my arms.
“I’ll hurry up,” he reassured me with a small smile, and then he turned around and made his way to the pub.
I gazed after his broad form for a moment as he walked across the parking lot. Just before he rounded the corner of the house, he darted a look over his shoulder. And, of course, he caught me looking at him. I hastily averted my gaze and got into the car, pulling up the zipper of his jacket in an attempt to warm myself.
When I turned around to look at Dad, I saw him slouching in the seat, snoring quietly. And I thought of all the discussions I had had with him over the years. Of all his promises and resolutions. And his lies. And I thought about the conversation I would have to have with him tomorrow.
I involuntarily wrapped my arms around myself, snuggling deeper into Walter's jacket. As I took a deep breath, his scent flooded my nostrils. A warm and natural and somewhat woody scent that I knew also hovered close to his skin. It smelled comforting. And it seemed to cocoon me, soothing my whirling thoughts. For a brief moment, my mind was calm. Like the surface of the lake on a summer day.
But when the soft fabric brushed against my chin, all I could think about were his lips. And how they would feel. Languidly gliding along my jawline. Just to capture my mouth in a rough kiss a moment later.
Eyes That See Summary: Your life consists of caring for others. This is a story of you learning to care for yourself.
Eyes That See Part 19 Summary: You go to the Christmas Tree Farm with Sy and realize that your patterns of people-pleasing run deep. Afterwards, Sy shares something with you.
Words: almost 17k
Pairing: Syverson and Reader
Tags: regular issues that have been brought up with anxiety/PTSD, the topic of Christmas, oral sex (f)
Notes: If there are continuity issues, I’ll fix them later because it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it? I’m just excited to post something at all because the writer’s block has been real lately…and I’m glad to get back at it! Gotta start somewhere.
In the still hours of early dawn the following morning, the chill from the nearly-winter air seeping in through the large window beside you is almost enough to freeze the tip of your nose. The fireplace in Sy’s bedroom is only hosting low-burning embers by now, and it’s cold.
You pull Sy’s comforter tighter around you and blindly wiggle backwards on the mattress to seek out his deep body heat, shivering for a few moments before almost instantaneously melting instead. Spooning you loosely, Sy’s arm is already around you, but he tightens his hold as you shift closer to tell you that he’s already awake.
Summary- 4.2k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. It's time for that sunshine, sand, and sex you had been looking forward to. Reuniting with your sister and meeting her family, you and Curtis enjoy a vacation away from the winter storms plaguing Minnesota currently.
Warnings- Plus-sized reader dealing with fitting in small spaces. (Airplanes, if you know, you know.) Sexy times with mouth being covered.
A/N- Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reading and sharing this series. Special shout out to @what-is-your-plan-today for editing this. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics. Please give a share, I so appreciate it. I also LOVE hearing your thoughts about this series. Thank you.
Chapter Eighteen / Masterlist
“Jade, we are getting on the plane now, so I got to go.” You said into the phone while Curtis waited for you outside of the terminal while you listened to your sister tell you last minute details, when you finally heard her say love you, you took that as the time to say goodbye. “Yes, Love you too. We will be landing in Fort Lauderdale in about five hours.” You hung up and stuck your phone into your bag.
“Everything all good?” Curtis asked, his arm lifting for you to join him while you two made the walk through the terminal to the plane.
“Yes, she was just assuring me that they will be there to pick us up.” You smiled, leaning into Curtis to enjoy the feeling of his arm over your shoulder, his fingers lightly caressing the curve where your neck and shoulder dipped. When reaching the plane, Curtis let you go first, his hand on the small of your back to lead you through the narrow opening in a supportive gesture. You wrinkled your nose a bit while catching sight of the long narrow aisle. You hated them, your hips were wide and you always worried you were going to bump into someone on the way down to your seat. But you couldn’t stall any longer knowing that Curtis was right behind you and even though he wasn’t rushing you, other people were behind him. They would start to get impatient with you stalling.
You took a deep breath and made your way forward, doing your best to not let your hips sway too much while making your way toward your seats about halfway down the aisle.
Curtis let you take a few steps ahead of him before following behind. You led him to the row you booked for the two of you. Three seats cramped together, you willingly paid for the extra one so you and Curtis could have the space all to yourselves. Curtis put your onboard luggage above you in the compartment while you worked the arms of the seats up and out of the way. You were finally satisfied that the flight was going to be comfortable enough for both of you when he moved to sit next to you. He stretched out one long leg under the seat and let himself relax back, glancing at you.
“You okay Honey?” He reached his hand to clasp gently against your thigh, squeezing gently in assurance that made you smile.
“I’m fine. Just ready to be there, you know? Flying isn’t my favorite.”
“It isn’t mine either. Once in a while Nam sends us out for some training.” Curtis let his touch turn soothing, light brushes along your thigh to your knee. “Stay for a month in some hotel, then fly back. I hate it.”
“When was the last time you had to do that?” You buckled in, the announcement coming up from the pilot that they were getting ready to ascend.
Curtis did the same, counting the time in his mind. “Umm- three years. So probably about due for another one soon. Means you will get a month to yourself.” He winked and you made a displeased face.
“What am I gonna do with myself for a whole month?!”
“I’m sure you will think of something.” He smirked before dropping his head close to your ear to whisper. “Use those toys on yourself thinking about me.”
You could feel the heat flush your cheeks thinking about doing just that. Curtis weaved his fingers with yours, holding your hand securely while the plane took off. Once in the air, the flight was smooth and you both passed the time reading or chatting.
Just as Jade promised, she was there, along with a very excited little blonde girl who clung to her hand while jumping up and down. “They are here, they are here!”
Caught up in your excitement, you ditched the heavy bag and went running up to your sister to hug her tightly since it had been so long since you had a chance to do just that. You felt like coming home when her arms wrapped around you and squeeze you just as hard as you were doing.
“I was so worried we might miss you, we had to dash in here. Parking was a nightmare”
Next you turned to Mary and moved more to her level, holding out your hand to greet her. “Hi Mary, it is so nice to finally meet you!”
Mary politely shook your hand, giving a toothy grin to show off her new smile. “Look what I lost since we last skyped.” You gasped and Curtis came with the luggage you happened to ditch when you went to greet Jade.
“Oh, that is a big one. Tooth Fairy time.” You said cheerily. Mary shook her head and Jade rolled her eyes at the kid. You offer to take your bag back, but Curtis gives a slight shake of his head indicating that he was fine with your bag.
“I busted Frank and Jade trying to sneak it out from under my pillow. The Tooth Fairy isn’t real.”
“I swear this kid has no sense of magic.” Jade sighed at Mary.
You gave a shrug to Mary, winking. “So maybe no real tooth fairy, but hey you got a couple bucks out of it right?”
Mary tilted her head with a nod, trying to suss out where you were going with this. “Yeah?”
“Sounds like it's still worth pretending there is a tooth fairy, at least till you lose all your teeth.”
“I mean… It is easy money.” Mary deducted and Curtis piped up.
“Doesn’t get better than that kid.”
Mary gave a firm nod of understanding, tugging on Jade’s hand. “I believe in the tooth fairy again.”
“Ha, and here your Uncle thought he wasn’t gonna have to dish out more money for your teeth.”
She motioned towards the parking garage, the group making their way to the cars.
Florida was the complete opposite of Minnesota, where they were having a full out snowstorm just after Curtis and you left. Florida was a sunny warm paradise that left both you and Curtis shedding out of your long sleeves and into t-shirts once more. Frank arrived home shortly after you all, sweaty, and dirty, but welcoming as he formally introduced himself. “Let me just shower and change, and I will be right down.” He pecked Jade on the forehead affectionately and escaped towards the back of the ranch style home they had recently purchased together. Jade ushered you all out into the shady backyard, showing you around while Mary exuberantly took a leap into the inground pool.
“I see why you got this place.” You nodded towards the pool that Mary was currently splashing around in.
“It was a selling point. Frank loved that built on garage and lot out front for vehicles and me… well the master is huge and these orange trees. Wait till tomorrow when we have freshly made orange juice.” Jade beamed proudly at the line of trees that indeed had fresh fruit ready to be plucked. “Plus there are extra bedrooms. In the future, Frank and I talked about possibly opening our home to fostering.”
“Large garage and lot means I can bring some of my work home instead of scraping it at the marina.” Frank announced, freshly clean with a pair of light blue jeans and crisp white tee, stepping over to Jade, he gave her a more affectionate kiss to her temple. You felt so happy seeing Jade have such an affectionate partner, in some ways it reminded you of Curtis, who currently had his hand on your waist, tapping his fingers in a slight rhythm. You assumed it was partially nerves about being in a new place, but his touch was a welcome presence for you.
“That helps, a lot.” Curtis nodded in agreement.
“Yeah it helps me get to be here more often. I’m sure you don't get that luxury though I thought boat engines were big enough, half the time needing some kind of crane to move them out. I can’t imagine doing a train’s.”
Curtis gave a shrug and let loose a soft chuckle. “Motor is a motor basically, but we do have some pretty heavy duty equipment. You would be shocked though, some of the parts are pretty damn small considering what it runs.”
“Yeah well some day I wouldn’t mind seeing your operation.” Frank ran his hand along Jade’s back, grinning at her. “Sorry Babe, didn’t mean to unleash shop talk.”
“Pfft, I don’t care.” She unwound herself from Frank. “Y/N and I are gonna go prepare the food for the grill, so how about you take your shop talk over that way.”
Frank gave a salute, and Curtis winked at you reassuringly as he followed Frank over to the patio kitchen near the pool area. “Can I get you a beer Curtis? Jade had me pick up a bit of everything.”
“Would love one.” You heard him say as you and Jade went into the kitchen to start prepping. Jade went into the fridge, humming in a sing song while pulling out a bowl of ground beef and veggies. “Wanna do barbecue burgers?”
“I haven't had barbecue burgers since I left home. Yes please.” You said enthusiastically while you searched out seasonings. It was so good to be with your sister again, the two of you chatting away just like old times, giggling and laughing together. Jade started getting the burgers on a platter when she called for Frank, which he popped right in to grab them. When he left, Jade went and shut the patio door real quick. “Y/N, come’re…”
“What?” You asked curiously while moving to the doors to peek out.
“Look at Curtis and Frank… those two could be brothers or cousins almost.”
There were obvious differences, Curtis was taller than Frank by several inches and more built. Frank had a nice healthy year round tan and his hair was a soft brown with hints of dirty blonde highlights whereas Curtis had his hair and beard so dark it almost looked black unless in the right light. But you could see where Jade was coming from. Their build was similar, wide shoulders and trim waists, both put off quiet, comforting demeanors.
“Guess we have the same taste in men?” You questioned as you watched the two of them talking over the grill, by the way, Curtis was laughing, you guessed it was more about mechanics which was another similarity they had.
Jade snickered as she admired them from afar. “Well sis, I’m gonna say you have damn good taste then because Frank treats me like a queen.”
You went back to the kitchen to finish up, nodding. “Curtis does too, honestly Jade I have never felt like I was in a relationship with someone who treated me like I was an actual partner. Curtis is always wanting my opinions and encouraging me to say what I want from him. He doesn’t make me feel like I’m a project he is working on to improve, but still encourages growing together.” You paused to glance at Jade. “Does that make sense?”
“Perfectly, you are not dating a self centered selfish asshole who criticizes you all the time. You don’t know how many times I wanted to deck Jake in the face for what he was doing to you.”
You blinked back a few tears hearing your sister because she was right. “Oh, I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to bring him up.” She dried her hands on a kitchen towel and hugged you from behind.
“You were right though, Curtis is everything Jake isn’t. I still can’t believe I wasted so much time on that asshole.” You dried your eyes and smiled. “I’m happy Jade, probably the most I have ever been.”
She smiled hearing you. “That's all we ever wanted for you Y/N. Someone who treats you as good as you treat them.”
You glanced back out the window, catching sight of Curtis who happened to glance up and see you with your arms full of stuff to bring out on the patio. He immediately broke from his conversation with Frank to go help you.
After Jade and Frank got Mary out of the pool and had her go change since the evening was starting to cool off, everyone ate till they were about to bust.
“So when are you guys flying back out?” Frank asked as he settled back in his chair, and relaxed with Jade after they put the food away.
“So we are staying here till the 13th, then Curtis and I will be going to the Ritz for a night.”
“Oh nice, I always dreamed of going to stay there.” Jade dropped not so subtle hints and Frank dropped his head like he was in defeat.
“You really wanna go stay there when all your stuff is here? I promise I can make this as good as the Ritz for you.” Rubbing his hands together. “Give you the best massage ever.” Jade gave a pondering look.
“You gonna bring me breakfast in bed and let me lounge in the hot tub?”
Frank winked. “As soon as I get a hot tub in.”
Jade sighed. “That’s what I thought. I'd rather go to the Ritz.”
Mary nearby was playing on her tablet when she started yawning and slouching in her chair, Frank gathered his protesting niece to bring her inside. “But I’m not tired.”
“I know kiddo, but we are getting tired too, Jade is gonna show Y/N and Curtis their bedroom.”
“Oh. Okay. You are so old Frank.” She grumbled sleepily, letting her head rest on her uncle's shoulder while he disappeared with her into the house.
Frank rubbed at her back while carrying her away. “Guess who gets to take care of me when I’m really old?” They disappeared into the depths of the house, making you all miss Mary’s response.
“She is a pretty cool kid.” Curtis said, making you lean into him. “Did you hear her give me a lesson on what constellations are out tonight?” You giggled while nodding.
“Mary is pretty awesome.” Jade smiled fondly. “The day I met her for our first outing, she outright told me that Frank thought I was pretty. She rarely holds anything back. The man just about stumbled over himself trying to explain what he said.” Jade laughed as she recalled the meeting. “Also I told her to let you guys sleep in. So don't worry about getting up too early.”
“That’s good cause I think Y/N has been dreaming about being able to sleep in.” Curtis teased and you huffed out.
“Well, I am on vacation.”
Frank rejoined the get together, settling back next to Jade and letting his arm lope over her shoulders. “I’m all for sleeping in, tomorrow is Saturday.” He smirked a bit at Jade and she rolled her eyes, smacking at him.
“Sleeping in Frank, that's all I’m planning on doing.” Jade turned towards you and Curtis. “I forgot to tell you, later this week Frank was able to get a yacht for us to use, and he knows all the best spots.”
“That sounds incredible Frank, thank you!” You said excitedly.
“I got lucky, I just did an overhaul on it and the owner wanted us to have a day on it before he took it back. Want to make sure you guys wanna come back for another visit.” Frank tried making it sound like it wasn’t a big deal but it was apparent he was happy that he could show you and Curtis a good time.
“You have already done that.” Curtis assured Jade and Frank, glancing down at you. You too seemed sleepy, your head leaning onto Curtis’s shoulder now and then and your smile got a soft kind of dopey that it did when you had a long day. “But I’m ready to call it a night. I’m beat after traveling.”
You stretched next to him, tossing him a subtle grateful smile while pushing to a stand. “Me too, Jade and Frank, thank you so much for letting us come stay with you guys for the week.”
“You are welcome anytime Y/N.” Jade said while Frank nodded in agreement. She popped up to hug you goodnight and then to Curtis in a quick affectionate way. “I’m sure we will be right behind you. Night.”
You and Curtis made your way inside, quiet as you both were sure Mary must be sound asleep by now. Once in the spare bedroom, you closed the door, the ac blowing softly near the bed made the room cooler, after being out in the sunshine for a good part of the afternoon, and you were grateful to feel the cool wash over you.
“Honey, you can stay out with your sister. It’s been a while since you have visited her.” Curtis mentioned while moving to sit on the edge of the bed. You shook your head, moving to stand between his legs, his hands rubbing up the back of your thighs and giving a squeeze to your plump cheeks through the skirt you had changed into earlier that day.
“I was ready to come to bed.” You brush your hands through his buzzed head, watching as he leaned into your touch, letting his face press against your chest.
“Well, I’m most certainly not going to say no to you coming to bed with me.” He worked your shirt up to enjoy the soft feeling of your skin on his lips with playful kisses just under your bra.
“Mmh, that does sound really nice.” You muttered as his hands squeezed and massaged down the back of your thighs. “And that feels really nice.”
“Hmm.” Another kiss, moving lower than before. “How about we get in bed then and I can continue making you feel really nice.” You bit your lip while tilting your head back, enjoying all the sensations Curtis was giving you.
“Okay, but we have to be quiet.” You pulled away to turn off the bedroom light while Curtis sprung up to start shedding off his clothes to his boxers. You worked your shirt off over your head while shimmying your hips to get your skirt to fall off.
“I can do that, Pretty Girl.”
You approached him, letting your hand run up his bare chest, brushing through the dark hairs that turned you on so much to wrap your fingers in his chain to push yourself up to meet him. Kissing Curtis was one of your favorite things, the way your tongues would glide together with urgency and his hands would gather you in close to him. This time he ran his palms along your back, flicking your bra off when you pulled back for a gasp for air. “You really do have to keep me quiet Curtis.” You warned, a giddy rush spiraling through you as you looked up at him. The room was not entirely dark, through the blinds some street lights cut through, letting you have a good look at his expression.
“Honey, usually I’m trying to make you louder. I know I can keep you quiet.” Curtis said confidently, large calloused hands cupped your breasts, feeling their weight and running a thumb over your nipples to make you squeak. Curtis backed you up, making you sink onto the guest bed and shifted over you, replacing his fingers with his mouth.
“Oh god.” You muttered, arching into his mouth while his chin scratched at your tender skin. You were starting to doubt that he could when you had to muffle a moan while your hand fell to grasp the back of his head to press him closer and the other to his chest, your nails scraping down to feel his tensed muscles holding himself over you. His groan vibrated through you, humming all the way down into your core as you arched against him, pressing your soft giving body against his solid one.
He pushed the scrap of fabric covering you to the side to slide his fingers through your folds, his erection pushing at the front of his boxers, which he pushed down enough to give him room.
“Wrap those thighs around me Pretty GIrl, fuck I’m so hard for you that I can’t wait any longer.” You felt him heavy against you, his hips dropping to rub against you. Your hand that was against his chest reached between the two of you to rub his cock, your thighs spreading wider “Are you ready?.” He lifted his head to look at you, making you smile at his concern.
“Very.” You pressed his thick tip against your entrance, letting him go when he started to push into your pussy, both of you failing at being quiet for a few seconds. You bit your lip, trying to muffle yourself while Curtis groaned at the sensation of you wrapped around him, his thrusts slow as he filled you.
“Fuck Honey.” He kept his volume down, but couldn't filter out that absolute needy tone. It was such a turn on for you. “Like you were made for me.” Curtis ground against you while one of your legs loped over his waist to hold him close.
Curtis measured his thrusts, feeling him get deeper every time. You were about to dig into his biceps, arch yourself to meet him, but he grasped your arm and pulled it over your head, grunting against your breasts he was nipping and kissing over “Let me have your other arm.”
You traced his eagle tattoo with your nail tip before letting your arm raise above your head, his palm pinning them down together, and fingers stretching to thread through some of yours. That is when he started moving harder and faster into you. Being with Curtis could make you mindless, your soft whimpers pressed from your lips as you reached up to meet him to desperately kiss him. “I’m not going to last Curtis.” You harshly whispered against him, the bed creaking just barely covered by the whine of the ac unit nearby.
“I didn’t want you too Honey, I’m ready for you.” Plush lips traveled to the hinge of your jaw, whispering encouraging praises. “Promise they won't hear you Pretty Girl, just let go for me, you always come so good, make me fill you up.”
You wanted that, you wanted to feel full of him and you let yourself sink into that sensation, no more struggling to hold back. Your head tilted back into the pillows, your mouth opening as you started moaning a lot louder than the unit could muffle. His hand which had been on your hip to hold you still, went to press over your mouth, hunching him over your as his thrusts sped up, chasing his own moment.
Your orgasm rolled in waves, leaving you tensing around him and crying behind his palm. Your fingers clutched at his to hold yourself in the moment, your eyes screwed shut for a moment till he grunted above you. “Open them, let me see you, Honey.”
You couldn't deny him, your gaze shifted above you, focusing on the bouncing chain swaying above you. When he pressed down on you, you welcomed his weight crushing you into the mattress, his face muffled against your shoulder as his sigh of contentment was lost from anyone else but you.
His cock throbbed in you, sinking his spend into you and making you feel full and satisfied.
Within moments he let his hand fall from your mouth, and you tilted till you could press your lips against the side of his head where he was still smothering himself.
His fingers loosened slowly from yours, gliding down your wrists to rub them gently, planting his elbow on the mattress he pulled himself off you, both of you sticky with sweat even in the ac cool room. “Was that okay Y/N?” He implored, eyes searching what they could see of you and you stretched under him, sliding your foot over his ass and down the back of his thigh.
“Pinning my hands back, solid ten out of ten. I liked feeling you have control of me.” You wrapped your arms around him, rubbing your hands up his back.
“And covering your mouth? I should have asked first, I kinda went with it.” He leaned down to kiss you before you could answer, sliding himself from you and shifting to your side. You rolled to face him, running your hand along his belly, tracing his dusting of a happy trail.
“I didn’t mind it, I didn't think I would like that feeling, but I trust you Curtis. I know you wouldn’t hurt me and if I struggled you would have let me go.”
Curtis looked relieved at your answer, letting his head fall to the pillow. You two were almost touching noses. “Good, I should have asked you before.”
You pull in closer till he rolls to his back and you let your head rest on his shoulder. “Feel free to do it again.” You said making him laugh loud enough that you clasped a hand against his mouth. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist and started kissing your palm.
