The journey back to Heartland was strange and slow. The kind of slow that stretched the hours and made the sun seem reluctant to move across the sky. Travelling with a rig and horses didn't make for a fast journey, especially as drivers had to take it in turns for safety, swapping who was behind the wheel every few hours. Then there was the necessary overnight stay, to allow Echo a well earned break from the confines of his trailer. It was the same journey they'd made on the way to the rodeo, but there was something about coming back home that made it seem longer.
Then there was the added addition of an unexpected guest. Samantha had joined the Syverson boys on their way back to Heartland. Her own horse, rig and team were over a hundred miles away, going in the other direction to her parents ranch. After their discovery on the last night of the rodeo, Samantha couldnât quite believe that Ethan was Syâs younger brother. Moreover, to discover the ranch Riley had moved to all those months ago was owned by their family was a shock. She would never have put both those things together in a million years. After her farewell night out in Houston, Riley and Samantha had stayed loosely in touch. Their conversations were easy, familiar, the kind that made it feel like no time had passed at all. But, of course it had never come up in conversation that Heartland was âSyâsâ ranch. That was the price they paid when they hadnât bothered to exchange full names. When the pieces finally clicked into place in Samanthaâs mind, shock quickly melted into excitement. She hadnât expected their paths to cross again, and definitely not like this. But the idea of seeing her old friend filled her with a warm thrill she couldnât quite hide. However, her decision to travel all that way wasn't fueled by that thought alone. Anyone with eyes could see that.
Samantha and Ethan's âinstant attractionâ could have been written off as just that, but Sy knew there was more to it. He quickly demanded Ethan give him a good explanation as to why this barrel racer he'd âonly just metâ was tagging along with them. Ethan's response was quick and candid. He and Samantha had met last Autumn on the rodeo circuit and struck up a connection one night over stale beers and shared stories of close calls in the arena. According to Ethan, that chance encounter turned into weeks of seeing each other at different stops, their schedules always seeming to overlap, until it felt less like coincidence and more like something that was meant to happen.
Sy had been satisfied with his explanation and had agreed to let Samantha come along. On the long journey back he caught glimpses of the two of them in his side mirror whenever the road leveled out. He quickly changed his mind about Samantha coming back with them. Ethan, who would at one time flirt with every woman with a pulse and was usually so composed and steady, had this unmissable softness to him now. Little halfâsmiles when Samantha spoke. That subtle tilt of his head when she laughed. And Samantha? She glowed around him. Open, warm, the kind of comfortable that didnât come from something âcasualâ or âwhirlwindâ. They were smitten. Absolutely and shamelessly smitten.
Sy never thought heâd use that word to describe his brother, who was famous for keeping things easy and unattached. But there was nothing detached about the way Ethan helped Samantha down from the truck, or the small, private looks they exchanged when they thought no one noticed. It wasnât dramatic or obvious, it was quiet, but real. Watching them, Sy found himself smiling more than he expected.
Still, he didnât have long to dwell on the budding romance unfolding in his rearview mirror. His mind stayed locked on the road. His attention on the rig, on Echo, and on the safe return of every ranch hand whoâd been part of the trip. The route home would take two full days, including an overnight stay at a small âBed and Baleâ motel. It was a dusty place with a flickering neon sign but clean stalls and warm rooms, which was all anyone needed.
The moment they pulled in that evening, Syâs phone lit up with bars again. Relief washed over him. The first thing he did, before unloading supplies or checking Echoâs trailer, was step away from the noise of the parking lot and call Riley.
He tried once, twice, and a third time. Each call rang through until her voicemail clicked on. She usually picked up immediately, even if she was busy. The silence closed in a little tighter around him. He tried one more time, lingering on the beep before leaving a steady message.
âHey, Riley. We made our overnight stop. Just checking in. Call me when you can.â
He ended the call and fired off a text. Nothing heavy, just a simple âSee you tomorrow.â
Then the error popped up.
Not Delivered.
He frowned and tried again. The same error message came back.
That familiar buzz of worry stirred in his stomach, low and insistent. The night air suddenly felt colder, the neon sign flickering harder in the corner of his vision. Something wasnât right. He felt it down to his bones.
Heartland was supposed to feel close by now. Instead, it felt impossibly far away.
Riley had forgotten how big the Coleman headquarters felt. It rose out of downtown Billings like a monument to a very specific kind of empire. The buildingâs exterior was a gleaming mix of dark steel and tinted glass, sharpâedged and unapologetically modern. There was nothing subtle about it. It was the kind of structure that announced, We struck oil first, and we struck it big.
Inside, the lobby smelled faintly of leather and polished stone. The floors were deep black marble shot through with veins of gold, a notâsoâquiet nod to the crude oil that had built the Coleman fortune. Along the far wall stretched a massive basârelief mural made entirely of oxidized metal plates, depicting nodding pump jacks and earlyâera oil derricks rising out of the Montana plains. Before Chris had joined the family business, he used to joke that the image was their fatherâs way of reminding everyoneâemployees includedâthat the family legacy was unshakeable.
Today, she wasnât here to be intimidated. Today, she walked through its doors with her shoulders squared, ready to make her case.
The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floors, the doors sliding open to a space Riley remembered all too well. The seventeenth floor of Coleman headquarters was quieter than the lobby, but no less imposing. The air even smelled expensive. Some mix of cedarwood, paper, and that faint industrial note she could never quite identify, like the ghost of oil lingering in the walls.
The hallway stretched long and straight, lined with floorâtoâceiling windows on one side and framed blackâandâwhite photographs on the other. Riley slowed her steps without meaning to, drawn toward the images sheâd grown up seeing in her fatherâs study. Coleman men standing kneeâdeep in mud beside early drilling rigs. Crews in hard hats grinning at a successful strike. Rows of pump jacks silhouetted against bloodâred Montana sunsets. In one photo, her father was barely older than she was now, sleeves rolled up, face streaked with dirt and pride. The day the Billings field came in, heâd told her once, voice warm with memory. This whole floor was a shrine to the empire and she had walked away from it.
At the end of the hall, was Chrisâs office. Rileyâs boots clicked softly against the polished concrete as she continued down the corridor, passing the glassâwalled conference rooms where executives in tailored suits sat discussing lord knows what. A few looked up as she passed, some with curious glances, polite smiles, a few with recognition flickering in their eyes. Riley looked completely out of place inside here. Her boots, shirt and worn denim, stood in stark contrast to those around her.
The receptionist greeted her warmly and ushered her toward the office at the end of the hall. It was only a handful of steps, but it felt like crossing some invisible threshold, from the world sheâd been born into to the one she had chosen for herself.
âRiley!â Chris pushed back from his desk immediately, rising with his usual boundless energy.
His office was spacious enough to hold a small conference table, a wallâsized map of nationwide oil holdings, and a panoramic view of the city that made everything below look small and manageable. Just like the empire. Riley stepped inside, feeling the air shift. She smiled at her brother.
As always, the Rodeo proved to be the highlight of the season. Competitors from across the country gathered to take part in barrel racing, steer roping, bull riding, and every other adrenaline-fueled event imaginable. The Syverson team set up the horse trailer and wagon in the fields reserved for competitors. Rigs of all sizes imaginable were parked side by side like a miniature city around the edge of the arena. Sy couldnât think of anything quite like it, although he imagined the densely packed field might resemble New York City in its own way. Not that he had ever been. Once the team was settled, Sy took Ethan to the registration tables and officially booked him into his events. Ethan was most looking forward to barrel racing, thatâs what he and Echo had spent all the summer months training for. His injury had been a setback, not just for him but for his four legged friend. The ranch hands gave Echo a workout whilst he was recovering, but even they would admit, when Ethan got in the saddle Echo just moved differently. Ethen hoped the few weeks he was forced to rest wouldnât ruin their finishing time.
The first couple of days were all about the preliminary rounds, and with hundreds of cowboys vying for a spot in the finals. The arena buzzed with energy. Boots scuffing against dirt, the clang of gates, and the occasional cheer erupting from the stands as riders tried to tame bulls that looked more like fury on four legs. Sy, Ethan, and the ranch hands took the downtime as an excuse to kick back, nursing cold beers while watching bronc riders sail through the air like rag dolls. The smell of fried food drifted from concession stands, mingling with the sharp tang of dust and sweat, and for most folks, it was easy to get swept up in the revelry.
Everyone else seemed to be soaking in the Rodeo spirit, laughing, hollering, and letting the tension of competition melt away. But Sy couldnât quite surrender to the atmosphere. No matter how many times he tried to focus on the spectacle in front of him, his mind kept circling back to that brochure heâd seen in Rileyâs office. It gnawed at him like a burr under the saddle. He knew he shouldnât have snooped and normally he wouldnât have. When it came to Riley though, he didn't always listen to reason.
The only person that was suffering because of that quick lapse in judgement was himself. Only he knew what heâd read and despite how angry it had made him, he wasnât going to reveal the secret to anyone else here. The only person he should be speaking to about it was over 200 miles away. Sure he could have just picked up the phone and called her, but cell service at the Rodeo wasnât exactly the best and moreover getting a moment on his own to speak to Riley in private wasnât going to happen. She was back home, and he was stuck here, stewing in silence while the Rodeo roared on around him.
Syâs mood by the third day of the rodeo was beginning to be noticed by everyone around him. He wasn't sour but he was as close to irritable as anyone could get. It was Ethan that finally called him out on it, whilst they were sharing a rare moment alone in the stalls. It was Ethanâs first preliminary round, and he and Sy were getting Echo ready outside the ring. Ethan was giving his friend a thorough rub down whilst Sy lifted his saddle on with ease and began fumbling around with the straps, chewing the inside of his cheek looking like he had just chewed on a wasp.
âAlright, man, out with it.â Ethanâs voice carried that edge of exasperation heâd been holding back for two days.
âI donât know what youâre talkinâ about.â
Sy didnât even glance up. His jaw was set tight as he tugged at the saddle straps, the leather creaking under his grip.
âUrgh!â Ethan whinged, dragging the sound out like it might shake an answer loose.
âDonât make me beat it out of you.â
He yanked off his hat and hooked it over the pommel with a sharp flick, then leaned his weight against Echoâs side. The horse flicked an ear and shot him a sideways glare that said more than words ever could.
Ethan chuckled under his breath. âEven he thinks youâre in a mood.â
Sy ignored him, though his shoulders stiffened. His brother wasnât renowned for letting things go.
âYouâve been about as pleasant as a cantankerous mule for the past two days. What the hellâs goinâ on?â
Silence stretched between them, thick as the dust hanging in the air. Sy kept working, fingers moving with deliberate precision. When he didnât answer, Echo decided to intervene. The horse swung his head and delivered a sharp nip to Syâs arm.
âAlright, alright!â Sy barked, jerking back and rubbing the sore spot.
His scowl deepened as he shot the horse a look.
âYouâve been spendinâ way too much time with him,â he muttered, jerking his chin toward Ethan.
The horse snorted, unimpressed, as if to say he wasnât the problem here.
âIt's justâŠRiley.â He said finally, his voice sounding defeated.
Ethan raised his eyebrows with misunderstanding.
âYouâre goinâ have to be more specific.â
Sy didnât know what to say. Everything he could think of made him sound foolish, dumb or worse⊠vulnerable.
âI never told you how I met Riley.â Sy settled on quietly.
Ethan blinked. âWell sure, your first night back.â
âNo!â Sy shook his head. âThat was the second time.â
Sy walked through the whole tale. The bar, the hotel and waking up the next day feeling sated but instantly heartbroken. Well, maybe he left that particular detail out.
âHoly shit! So thatâs what all the weird tension was when you first came back!â Ethan pointed at him like heâd cracked some ancient code. âIt was sexual!â
Sy groaned, âFor the love of God, Ethan!â
âYou two were actinâ like you were afraid to breathe the same air.â
âGod, I wish I hadnât opened my mouth.â Sy muttered through gritted teeth.
âFine, fine.â Ethan wiped his eyes, still smirking. âContinue.â
âShe told me later, back at the ranch that she was scared.â Sy let out a slow breath.
âScared of what?â
âMe,â Sy said, voice low. âOr scared of what Iâd do. Like change my mind about her, or realize she wasnât worth stickinâ around for.â
Ethanâs brows knit together. âShe said that?â
Sy nodded then shook his head, disagreeing with himself, âSheâs been rejected enough times that she expects it now.â
It hadnât taken him long to piece it all together. Riley figured leaving him first would hurt less than waiting around for him to do it.
Ethan shook his head slowly. âBut you werenât gonna reject her.â
âNo,â Sy said firmly. âHell, I didnât even want her to leave the room, let alone my life. She ran before I got the chance to tell her.â
âAnd now youâre worried sheâs doinâ it again.â Ethan concluded.
Sy rolled his eyes, he had to tell Ethan what heâd done. What he found. He did so in as few words as possible, the quicker he got it out the better. Like ripping off a bandaid.
âYou gotta talk to her, big brother,â Ethan said gently.
âRight now. Your jumpinâ to conclusions, without any evidence.â
Sy raised a skeptic eyebrow.
âDonât assume sheâs runninâ, and donât make her guess what you want either.â
Sy swallowed. âAnd what if she is planninâ to leave?â
âThen you fight for her,â Ethan said simply. âBut you canât fight if you donât ask.â
The announcerâs voice boomed across the arena, calling Ethan and Echo to the start gate, ending their conversation.
The brothers reacted instantly. Ethan settled into the saddle and trotted Echo off towards the arena. Sy followed behind them, then dipped under the rail onto the sidelines.
âCall her.â Ethan said with finality as he looped his stetson back onto his head.
Sy nodded with a heavy exhale. Ethan was right.
Sy hooked his hands over the metal bar as if he needed the anchor and watched his brother compete.
Ethan was calm and focused, while Echo danced beneath him, hooves pawing restlessly at the packed dirt. The kid was ready. More than ready. Sy shouldâve felt nothing but pride. Instead, something heavy twisted low in his stomach.
When the horn blared, Echo shot forward like a slingshot, dirt spraying out behind him. The crowd roared, voices rising in a wave of excitement, but Sy barely heard it. His mind drifted to a different place entirely. To Riley.
Echo rounded the first barrel with tight precision, Ethan leaning low, guiding him with ease. The stands erupted into applause. Syâs heartbeat didnât follow the rhythm of the cheering. It thudded slow and uncertain.
Riley leaving that first morning had gutted him more than he cared to admit. But when she explained why, it had broken him in a whole different way. He hadnât known someone could smile so bright and still carry that kind of fear in their bones.
Echo and Ethan swung around the second barrel, dust flying in a perfect arc. Sy barely blinked. The buzzer shrilled as Ethan and Echo crossed the finish line in a blur. The timer flashed bright. A damn good run and the stands went wild. Sy swallowed hard, chest swelling with pride and then tightening with fear. He scrubbed a hand over his beard, eyes fixed on Ethan trotting towards the railing. For the first time in a long time, Sy was afraid too. Afraid Riley would run; Afraid he wouldnât catch her in time; and most of all afraid of losing someone he never wanted to let go of in the first place.
Synopsis: Allie Hilton is on the run. For the first time in her privileged life, she can only rely on her own wits to escape a life she was destined for, but also one that she never wanted. What happens when Allie flees as far as she can before running into a small town that just happened to be governed by a large male motorcycle fleet? Well Allie, meet the War Horse Rebellion. Put on your riding boots, it's going to be a rough ride.
Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Allison âAllieâ HiltonÂ
Warnings: Angst, mention of vomiting, positive pregnancy, engagement fluff, some smut but nothing terribly explicit.
MINORS DNI! Must be 18+ MATURE CONTENT
I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.Â
A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!
Chapter 21:
SYâS POV:
I find myself leaving the shop a bit earlier than normal so that I can run by the store and grab more Gatorade and anything that seems light and easy for an upset stomach to digest. Making my way to the pharmacy section, I quickly scan through the options and canât seem to find any medicine that sounds right. Standing in front of the pepto bismal, I huff as I know Allieâs been drinking it straight from the bottle even but canât seem to get any relief. Other times, she seems fine.Â
âNeed any help, sir?â A young pharmacy technician questions. She must be new⊠I know Eric was looking to hire a few extra people at the store since he was severely understaffed, but itâs still unusual for me not to know someone in the town.
âNah.â I gruff out dismissively and she quickly breaks eye contact with me and steps back. Damn, Iâm sure to a newbie I sound like a curmudgeonly jerk. Allie would tell me to fix my RBF, or resting bitch face, as she calls it, if she were here. Iâve personally never had a problem with looking mean.
âActually, you got anything thatâll help with the stomach flu?â I quickly ask and she smiles exuberantly.Â
âOh sure, thatâs all going to be right here. Could I ask your symptoms? I might be able to pick out something specific.â She bats her eyelashes, pouts her lips a bit to obviously, and fidgets her hands, adorned with sparkly purple nail polish, in front of her body.
âSânot for me. Itâs for my fiancĂš.â I say without thinking. Why did I just lie about being engaged?
Her eyes quickly glance down as she places a somewhat crestfallen smile on her face.
âSheâs had this weird stomach thing that has been lingering for days. Luckily, Iâve been able to avoid catching it but Iâm just trying to make her more comfortable until she lets me take her to the doctor. Sheâs been drinking a lot of water, which is good, but she doesnât want to eat anything. She will be fine sometimes, and then randomly get really nauseous and puke.â
âHmm⊠Does she have a fever?â
âNot that I know of. She has been sleeping a ton though.â
âWell, it sounds like she might have an eating disorder, or-âÂ
I scoff loudly.Â
âShe doesnât have an eating disorder.â I assert.Â
Placing her hands in the air she quickly apologizes. âIâm sorry, just trying to make a mental list of things and thatâs what came to mind first.â
âSâalright...Any other theories?â I cross my arms across my chest.
âI mean, strep throat can cause you to vomit, but she would have sore throat and fever. Could she be pregnant?â She asks cautiously and looks like sheâs ready to bolt if I respond with anger.
I pause for a moment and contemplate. I donât have a clue when she last had her period, so thatâs not helpful, but I know I saw her take her birth control pill yesterday. Iâve seen her take it almost every day, when weâre together. Itâs got to be something else.
âSheâs on birth control. She takes it every day.â I reply as Iâm still reeling over a potential that I hadnât truly considered before now.
âJust a thought! Oral contraceptives arenât completely fail proof. Well, my guess would be gastroparesis, or potentially an issue with her gall bladder. Both would need to be seen by a physician, and nothing over the counter will fix those things. Maybe in the meantime try a different antacid, like Tums or Maalox if pepto isnât helping.â
Leaning down, I grab a container of Tums and a bottle of Maalox and give the girl, Kate, according to her nametag, a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy.Â
âI appreciate your help.â I offer.
âSorry that I couldnât do more. I hope yourâŠfiance, feels better soon.â She offers and with a stiff nod, I head to checkout with the electrolytes, crackers, protein bars, and antacids. Â
Pharmacy bag in hand, I head inside the house but am surprised that Allie isnât posted up on the couch. Kicking off my boots, I wonder idly if sheâs asleep upstairs. Placing the Gatorade in the fridge, I grab the crackers and a cold bottle of water and go in search of my girl. The bedroom is dark with the exception of my bedside lamp on, and the sunlight filtering in through the edge of the curtain.
Curled up in a lump on the bed, I smirk at how deeply Allie has buried herself in the covers. Placing the water and crackers down on the dresser, I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed with the intention of gently waking her up to check on her. I gently place my hand on what I assume is her covered butt and hip, only to be confused by the softness of the lump that Iâm touching. Moving my hand up, I notice that the entire form is unnaturally soft and pliable. Quickly, I grab the edge of the duvet cover and fling it back dramatically, to be confronted with several pillows molded in the shape of a person. No Allie in sight.Â
âWhat the fuâAllie!?â Jumping up in panic, I click on the lamp that sits on her nightstand. Throwing one of the pillows, I see something odd. A small piece of paper with 3 sticks under it.
My eyes are as wide as saucers when I see whatâs written in front of me. Two words that I never imagined being written for me. Picking up each stick, I analyze each positive pregnancy test as my heart thunders so loudly in my chest I feel like itâs going to give out.Â
âALLIEâ I yell louder than I intended only to be startled by a whispered âAustinâ.
Turning around, I see Allie looking so beautiful, yet terrified as she watches me.Â
âYouâre really pregnant?â I ask obviously as I know the answer but the shock has yet to settle in my mind.
Allie nods as a single tear falls down her cheek. I reach for her and wipe it away as she presses her forehead against my chest. I hope she canât hear my heart pounding through my chest. I gently kiss the top of her head, before I realize that the moment Iâve been waiting for is now.
Here I was, wracking my brain to coordinate the perfect âmovie romanticâ moment with champagne and strawberries, in some sort of magical location⊠but thatâs not us and it never has been.Â
Gently coaxing her back from my chest, I quickly tell her,
âI need a minute.â
My old knee protests as I bolt down the stairs two at a time to get to the guest bedroom closet. High up on the top shelf, my military gear is still neatly packed in my army issued rucksack. Next to it is the thing I came for.
My army boots.
I stretch and pull them down off the shelf before digging my arm straight into the left boot to retrieve the little box that Iâve had stowed away there. Quickly and silently, I open the box. Iâm sure itâs still there, but I need to put eyes on it before I ask her. Itâs now or never⊠I tell myself.
ALLIE POV:
I feel like an absolute fool hiding behind the master bathroom door when I hear Syverson arrive home. How is he going to react?Â
The urge to vomit once again creeps up my throat. My mouth fills with saliva and I quickly swallow it in an attempt to keep the nausea at bay. Remind yourself of what Eliza said. Heâs going to be happy about this. He will not abandon you. Think positive.Â
Syversonâs heavy footsteps climb the stairs and I hear him enter the bedroom. I hear him quietly attempt to wake my fake sleeping figure into consciousness and I physically hold my breath. The covers are flipped and I feel as if I can actually hear him trying to mentally process this news before an urgent call of my name was yelled.Â
Without even intending to move, I revealed myself in the bathroom doorway and uttered his name quietly. I canât keep the tear from falling when he asks in shock for me to confirm that itâs true, as I nod in affirmation.
My heart is pounding heavily when he reaches for me and I bury my face into his chest as I let the tears of relief trail down my cheeks. A barely-there kiss is pressed on my hair, and my shaking fingers find their grip on the edge of Syâs leather vest.Â
Heâs not upset, weâre going to be okay. My body sags into his as relief washes over each of my extremities.
Silently, Syverson pulls out of our embrace and appraises my face like heâs unsure, or thinking deeply.
I would never expect what would happen next, when Syverson single handedly splintered my heart into a million pieces.
âI need a minute.â That was all he said in his gruff voice, before literally running away from me.
No! Heâs leaving me. Heâs leaving us. I fall to my knees as I begin hyperventilating. I canât catch my breath due to the sobs silently racking my body.Â
Oh god! What would Liza say if she were here? I imagine her rubbing my back like she did when I was sick and close my eyes to hear her voice in my head.
âStop it Allie, heâs in shock. You were upset too when you found out but had time to come around to the idea before telling him. Give him a moment to process. His whole future just got planned in front of his eyes and even though heâs big and tough, he deserves a moment to be scared. He never had a dad, so Iâm sure this is just him trying to rationalize how he can be a good father to your child.â I imagine her calming me and it reluctantly works.Â
The unbridled tears still pour from my eyes, but I find my breath and focus on the simple task of inhaling and exhaling. Did he leave? I never heard the door shut, or his motorcycle crank and I know I wouldnât be able to miss the sound of that engine no matter how deeply I was unraveling in my mind.
Sitting uncomfortably on my knees, I wipe my drenched face with my oversized sleeve as I try to compose myself. Iâve heard that undue stress can harm a baby, even this early so I must calm down.Â
Suddenly, I hear Austinâs footsteps making his way toward me but I donât dare move, or look at the door. I focus my gaze on the sun light streaming in from the edge of the curtain that illuminates a portion of the wall in front of me. Calm, I mentally remind myself as Syverson enters the bedroom once more.Â
Syversonâs POV:
Upon reentering the bedroom, my hands are somewhat unsteady as the vintage box sits bulkily inside my vest pocket. I begin to ramble as I havenât exactly prepared the proposal speech that I had intended on giving.
âThis isnât how I wanted it to go, buââ My mouth slaps shut when I see her, sitting on her knees looking absolutely shattered. Her face is red and swollen from crying, and her hands shake as they lay limply on her lap.
Allieâs eyes are focused on the wall to my right, and her chin actually quivers with more unshed tears. My poor girl, she must be absolutely terrified to be pregnant. Could she be having second thoughts about me? Could she be regretting that sheâs now stuck raising a baby with some uneducated ex-military biker mechanic? Iâve always known that she deserves better than me, but I couldnât stop myself from falling for her.
âSugar.â I walk towards her but she doesnât even blink.
Crouching down so that Iâm directly in her line of sight, I gently reach for her chin that still quivers slightly as she fights the urge to fully release her tears.Â
âDarlinâ, youâre going to be okay. Iâll make sure of that. Is that why youâre upset? Because youâre scared of having a baby?â
She doesnât respond, so I continue to try and piece together her emotions.
âOr are you scared of havingâŠmy⊠baby?â I whisper as I fear she is regretting procreating with me rather than becoming a mom.
Her eyes flick off of their destination for a moment to meet mine, before returning to the wall behind me.Â
âTalk to me.â I beg.
âWhat is there to say?" Her voice shakes from strain.
"Itâs clear that you donât want this. I didnât mean toâŠit was from when I was in the hospital⊠apparently my birth control was ineffective. I wouldnât have tried to trap you. I justâŠwas hoping that you would respond better to the news.â
Oh fuck, she thinks Iâm mad? âSugar, I know you wouldnât try to trap me. I know that.â I attempt to wipe away a stray tear from her cheek and she flinches at the motion. It feels like my heart has sunk to my ass when she did that.Â
âI understand itâs a shock. It was pretty damn terrifying to me too, but if you want out, thatâs o--â
âNow wait just a damn minute.â I interrupt but sheâs not having it.
âNo, let me finish!â She demands and the look of gumption in her eye tells me to shut the hell up so I do.
âI intend on keeping this baby, but I wonât hold you accountable. This is my choice. I make enough money to support myself and a child. I know you werenât sure about having kids, so if you want out, this is your chance. If you decide that you would like to be involved, we can come up with a plan but I just wanted to let you know that I am keeping it.â
âYou done?â I ask with bitterness that she would ever think that I could abandon her or my child. Thatâs the furthest thing that would ever cross my mind. She nods dismissively.
âI am terrified. Iâm terrified that you donât feel secure enough in our relationship to think that I would ever abandon you or our baby in a million years.â I say vulnerably. Her eyes meet mine and we both share a look of hurt on our faces.
âI thought you were leaving me.â She confesses in an almost silent broken whisper , as her eyes glance at the bedroom door and back.
FUCK. My brain finally stops short circuiting and makes the connection that I was missing. Allie thought I was leaving her when I took off to get the ring. Damnit, youâre such a fucking idiot Syverson. I wipe my hand across my face in frustration at my own stupidity. I really fucked up.
âNo, sugar. I never ever would have left you. This is a big miscommunication on my part and Iâm so sorry.â I apologize genuinely before taking a deep breath and continuing.
âI didnât plan to do this, this way. I wanted it to be romantic like somethinâ from one of those smutty books you think that I donât know you read.â I chuckle lightly at the surprise mixed with confusion on her face and continue.Â
Leaning up on one knee, I reach for the small box in my chest pocket before removing it.
âIâm not always great with words, and I clearly am an idiot for not explaining that I was just going to get something and come right back to you. All I know is this. I love you. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. You came into my life like a hurricane and changed me for the better in so many ways. I have never felt more complete and fulfilled than I have since I met you. I canât imagine a day without you by my side. I realized that when I almost lost you.â I tell her with meaning.Â
âEarlier, I needed a minute to go and get this from its hiding spot. I know this isnât the most romantic way to do this, but I just... couldnât wait another minute.â I say before carefully opening the tiny box to reveal the engagement ring that belonged to my mother. Her eyes widen as she looks down on the vintage ring that has been passed down in my motherâs family for decades.
I open my mouth to speak those four words that are on the tip of my tongue but Allie interrupts me.
âYou donât have to do this. You donât have to marry me because Iâm pregnant. I know that people talk and especially in the south, that itâs âthe responsible thing to doâ but⊠you donât have to feel like you have to marry me.â
I want to chuckle at her obliviousness but smartly refrain.
âSugar, I wanted to propose to you on that first date. I couldnât imagine anyone more perfect, or outta my league than you, but I just knew that Iâd eventually fuck up and Iâd scare you away. Iâve been planning this for weeks. Iâm not asking for any reason other than because I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.â I search her eyes to make sure that she feels my sincerity.Â
She covers her mouth gently with one hand as Iâm speaking and I hope thatâs a good sign.
âSo?â I prompt when everything gets quiet and Iâm still on one knee and she has yet to speak as the tears still soak her cheeks.
âSo, what? You didnât ask a questionâŠâ She hints sarcastically and I realize, like the idiot I am, that I never said the words out loud during all of my rambling. Looking at the floor with a silent chuckle, I hear her soft giggle and want to pull her into my arms but I refrain.
âAllie Hilton, will you marry me?â I ask slowly and clearly as I ignore the ache in my bum knee that has all of my weight on it.
Allieâs tearful face breaks into a beaming smile as she nods and whispers, âYesâ.
My eyes close momentarily in relief as a smile takes over my face before I pull the ring from its box. It's a unique ring with a gold band. The main diamond is in the center and is surrounded by smaller diamonds, almost resembling the shape of a flower.
âThis was my motherâs engagement ringâŠand her motherâs and her motherâs ring. I donât know much about ring styles, so if itâs not fashionable or what you want, Iâd be happy to get you another one.â I offer sincerely.
âAre you fucking kidding me? Itâs stunning! IâŠIâm speechless.â Allie replies as I slide it on her third left finger. Leaning forward, still on her knees, Allie pulls me in for a hurried, frantic kiss that I happily return before I place kisses all over her face.
âIâm sorry that Iâm a dipshit and ran out like that. I was trying to find a way to make it romantic, but I just knew I couldnât last another minute without making you my fiance.â I tell her and she giggles.Â
âThat was really stupid, babe.â She replies and I hang my head in shame.Â
âIâll make it up to you, anyway you want. We can have a repeat proposal where I do it right and donât make a mess of things.â I offer.
She pretends to consider for a moment before shaking her head. âWeâve never been anything but messyâŠitâs what works for us apparently.â Allie smiles.Â
âTrue.â I grunt as I finally pull myself up off of my knee, before offering my hand and pulling Allie up off of the hard floor.Â
She smiles excitedly as she admires the ring that adorns her finger as I wrap my arms around her tiny frame. Seeing that ring after so many years tugs at my heart in a good way. It's like my mom is here with us in spirit.
âShe wouldâve loved youâŠmy ma.â I tell her and she looks at me with so much love mixed with sadness.
âI wish more than anything that I could have met her. I always dreamed of having a loving, genuine mother my entire life. I know I wouldâve loved her so much. I do simply for her raising you to be so wonderful.âÂ
âShe always said she couldnât wait for each of us boys to get married. Said she was desperate for another woman that could put up with our nonsense so that they could commiserate together about all of our shenanigans and too much testosterone.â I chuckle as I begin to tell Allie the memory of my mom standing in the kitchen, flour covering her hair and the entire room from where we had grabbed a handful, before throwing it in the air and screaming âSNOW DAY!â.Â
âShe made us all clean the kitchen from top to bottom that night but God, Iâd do anything to hear her laugh at our expense with flour caked into our curly brown hair.â
âHow old were you when yâall did that?â Allie asked with amusement.
âOld enough to know better. I think Walt and I were fourteen, and August was sixteen.â I smirk.
âShe shook a wooden spoon at us when she said, âJust wait. If you each can successfully find a woman that will put up with you long enough to give you children, Iâll get my revenge in the form of karma. I hope you each get three rowdy boys that you have to keep from becoming delinquents. Your wives and I will all have girlsâ nights and you boys will be stuck on dad duty while we bond.â We just rolled our eyes, because wives and kids were the last things on our minds at that point in our lives.â I recount as Allie and I sway slightly from side to side in our embrace.
"Out of the three of us, we all knew Walt would be the first to make that jump; marriage and family. Then it was supposed to be me. I don't think Ma actually ever really imagined August getting married. She always called him a 'free spirit.' That's why she made sure that I got the ring in her will."
âAnd now youâre getting married and going to be a dad.â Allie looks up at me with a nervous smile.
âIâm going to be a dad and youâre going to be a mom.â I respond with a crooked smile before kissing her forehead.
âI hope that I will be a good dad.â I mutter quietly as I think about growing up without my dad.
âYou will be. I know it.â Allie reassures.
âI love you, and I love this baby so much already.â I whisper before I lean down to press my lips to Allieâs.Â
âI swear to you, I will give you the family that you have always deserved. You will be an amazing mother and our baby and I am so lucky to have you.â My hands frame each side of her face as I speak to her before pressing her into a kiss that is much more heated than I intended. Allie reciprocates and before I realize it, her shirt is off, and Iâm down to my boxers.
âWe shouldâ kiss âstopâ kiss âhold off untilâ kiss âwe know the baby is safeâ. I mutter distractedly as Allie has moved the paper and pregnancy tests off of the bed before Iâm on my back and sheâs straddling me with hot, heavy kisses that have had my little soldier at attention since her tongue touched mine.
Pulling out of the kiss, Allie perches herself upright with her hands on my pecs and her warm heat, covered only by her tiny panties, directly over my bulge which causes me to grunt from the incredible pressure. I force my eyes off of her perfect breasts when she speaks.
âThe baby will be fine. I called Elizaâs OB/GYN and set up a new patient appointment for two weeks from now. Thatâs the earliest availability that they had for an ultrasound. Weâve had plenty of sex already while Iâve been unknowingly pregnant.â Allie states.
âI just donât want to hurt you, or her.â I say without thinking.
âHer? You think itâs a girl?â Allieâs eyebrow arches.
âYeah, I donât know why. What do you think it is?â
âA boy.â Allie states confidently.
âYou seem confident in your prediction.âÂ
âI mean, itâs a 50/50 either way, but I have a feeling that your mama will make sure that itâs a boy.â She smirks and I smile.
âYouâre probably right.â I admit.
âIâm always right. Now, if youâll hurry up and make love to me because I donât feel like puking for the first time in days and I want to take advantage of it.â
 âYes maâam.â I mock salute at her before she grinds against me again and leans over to rub her bare chest against my hairy one.Â
We lay in bed in our post coital bliss as Allie slowly eats the protein bar that I had brought upstairs and sips on the water. We were discussing ordering dinner, while trying to come up with anything that wouldnât make Allie heave when her phone kept buzzing on the dresser.Â
âOh shit!â Allie says before she sits up quickly and then yells as she clutches her abdomen with a deep breath and her eyes closed tightly.
Immediately, Iâm panicking.Â
âSugar, whatâs wrong? What hurts?â I jump up, throwing my boxers on and grabbing a clean t-shirt to put on Allie so I can take her to the emergency room.
âIâm okay. No need to worry.â She breathes before acting completely unbothered and I look at her like sheâs gone mad.
âWeâre going to the emergency room. Thatâs not normal.âÂ
âYes, it is. I did a lot of research online this afternoon. Itâs happened a few times this week but I didnât know what it was. Itâs called round ligament pain.â
âWhat the fuck is that?â I ask grumpily.
âMy uterus is stretching, and sudden movements like sitting up quickly, sneezing, coughing, etc, can give you this intense shooting pain in your abdomen. It feels like getting a stitch in your side from running.â She says, casually.
âI donât know if my adrenaline can handle this pregnancy.â I joke as help Allie put my oversized t-shirt on and she shakes her head with laughter.
âBetter do some reading online or youâre going to give yourself a stroke.â Allie pokes fun before I stick my tongue out at her.Â
âWhat made you jump so quick in the first place?â I ask and she remembers.Â
âMy phone. I swore to Liza that Iâd call her as soon as I told you⊠Sheâs probably freaking out.â She starts trying to climb out of the bed but I stop her.Â
âIâll bring your phone to you. Lay down.â
âIs this how youâre going to treat me the whole pregnancy? Iâm not going to lie, I kinda like the idea of being waited on hand and foot.â She smarts and I shake my head at her.
âDonât get used to it.â I lie, because we both know Iâll literally become her personal slave if it helps her to rest and grow our baby.
Handing her the cell phone that has been vibrating repeatedly on the dresser for the last twenty minutes, I see that Liza is blowing up her phone.Â
âWhy did Eliza know that youâre pregnant before I did?â I ask somewhat jokingly, but also somewhat concerned that she was so afraid to tell me.
âShe is the reason I found out at all. She brought it up, that my food aversions were similar to her sisterâs when she was pregnant. I told her that I couldnât possibly be pregnant because Iâm on birth control but then she reminded me that I had my stomach pumped at the hospital. She went to the store and brought me the pregnancy tests. She was with me when I found out it was positive and then held my hair while I puked, and calmed me down. Sheâs beenâŠlike a real sister to meâŠespecially today.â Allie says and I smile at my self procvlaimed little sister. Sheâs a tough shell to crack, but Eliza is the most loyal person that I know. The fact that she got on so well with Allie initially made me happy, but since then sheâs truly become someone that Allie can trust. Thatâs huge for someone who has never really had a genuine, loyal friend before in her life. Â
ALLIE POV:
Syverson agrees to call in a food order when I finally decided that something sounded good. I suddenly wanted mozzarella sticks, like the fried kind you could get at a restaurant for an appetizer. I wanted those, and oddly enough, really wanted watermelon slices. Syverson just chuckled and said heâd order from as many places as I wanted if I would get some food down. He climbed in the bed beside me before getting out his phone to start his dinner search, while I rested back against my pillow and checked my phone.
Sure enough, Eliza had called three times and sent six text messages.Â
God, sheâs such a loyal friend. Glancing at the time I see that itâs 7:46pm, and quickly, I decide to text her back.
Deciding to facetime her, I sit up and fluff my hair a bit so it doesnât look like we just had sex even though itâs probably obvious that we did.
Answering before the second ring, I see Elizaâs normally calm, collected expression is one of worry.
âOh my god, Al. Iâve been going crazy. What happened?â She hurriedly asks.
âWell, there was a bit of a miscommunication, but itâs okay now.â I reply as I glance at Syverson who has the sense to at least look slightly embarrassed. I continue before Eliza explodes.
âI told him, and he said, âI need a minuteâ and left. I thought he was leaving meâŠand the baby but he was actually going to get this.â I say before I hold up my left hand into the screen.
A momentary pause fills the space before Eliza erupts into a full-fledged scream that even has Austin laughing freely.
A moment later, Bananas comes running into the background in panic asking Eliza whatâs wrong. The screen then gets blurry as Eliza is jumping up and down before thrusting the phone at Bananaâs face.
âWhat theâŠ.NO SHIT!â He blurts with surprise when he sees the sparkly diamonds on the screen.
âHe finally did it! Hot damn!â Bananas yells and I canât help but look over at Austin who canât help but grin at our friendâs celebration on our behalf.Â
âI thought Eliza had seen a bug or something with that horrible screech, but this is so much better!â He adds as Eliza has composed herself enough to smack his shoulder playfully.Â
âYou knew?â Eliza asked Bananas and he nods like a mischevious child.
âWhy didnât you tell me?â She squints her eyes at him in faux anger and he just shrugs.
âRebel business, baby. Cap woulda killed me if I spilled the beans.â He says and Eliza rolls her eyes.
âCap, that ring is stunning. Itâs so fitting to Allieâs personality too. You did good.â Eliza compliments and I smile with a nose scrunch.
âEven better that itâs been passed down through the women on his momâs side of the family. It makes it that much more special.âÂ
âAhh, thatâs so precious!â Eliza gushes while Bananaâs is mimicking her like a child in the backgound.
âI can still see you in the reflection of the phone, idiot.â She says without drama before throwing a roll of socks from a laundry pile at him, which he dodges at the last second.
âDo you see the abuse I have to put up with?â He yells and she proceeds to throw another roll of socks at him before turning her attention back to the phone.
âSo, did yâall decide to get married before the baby comes or after?âÂ
âWHAT?â Bananas screams as he runs back up to the phone and Eliza who has wide eyes.
âAre you pregnant?â He asks and I glance at Sy before nodding yes.
âHOLY SHIT! Capâs gonna be a daddy! I canât wait to see him carrying a diaper bag!â Bananaâs chides and Austin just rolls his eyes.Â
âWait a minute, you knew she was pregnant and didnât tell me, but gave me shit for not telling you that he was going to propose? How is that fair?âÂ
âGirl code.â She shrugs with a smug smile before winking at me through the screen.
âHonestly, I donât know when weâre going to get married. Tonightâs been a whirlwind and we havenât even had a moment to discuss it.â I answer truthfully before Austin adds on.
âWe arenât getting married because sheâs pregnant though. Bananas knows I was trying to come up with a proposal plan in a few weeks. I just couldnât wait for the perfect moment any longer.â Austin winks at me.
âWhen is the baby going to make his or her spectacular appearance?â Bananas asks as he lays across the bed with his arm around Liza.
âThat, I donât exactly know. I couldnât get a doctorâs appointment until a little over two weeks from now, so I donât know how far along I am. That being said, if you could just keep this to yourselves, at least until we know that the baby is actually in there and has a heartbeat and stuff, I would really appreciate it.â I ask.
âYou got it.â Eliza agrees.
âThank you so much for being there for me, Eliza. I donât evenâŠI canât come up with the right words to thank you, but youâre the only genuine friend that Iâve ever had.â I say somewhat shyly.
âGirl, weâre practically sisters now. Iâm so grateful that Cap is finally settling down with someone I adore.â She smiles and I beam back at her.
âCap, Iâm so glad youâre my bestie. Remember all of those nights in the desert when we had pillow fights, painted our toenails, and cuddled?â Bananas says in a feminine voice as he pretends to kick his legs in the air to make fun of us.
âShut up.â Eliza pinches him and he squeals like a girl.
âOW! Hey!â He hollers and she laughs at the sound he made.
âI bet you screamed just like that when you saw a bug over in the desert too.â She snarks.
âYou would too! Some of those bugs were the size of my fist.â He defends and we all laugh at him.
After repeating the whole story to them about the miscommunication, followed by Eliza telling Sy he was an absolute idiot for running after I told him my news, we got off the phone due to our dinner arriving.Â
Austin made me stay in bed, claiming my eventful afternoon put too much stress on me and the baby. We decided to put on a fun, light-hearted movie while I happily chomped on my a la carte dinner in bed.
Before the movie was finished, Sy and I had both fallen asleep with my head on his chest and one hand lightly on my abdomen.
On our baby.
Chapter 23
A/N: I'm ALIVE. So sorry this one took so long to complete but having my husband off work, kids home, and the holidays, it's been bonkers at my house. I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and New Year celebration!
Synopsis: Allie Hilton is on the run. For the first time in her privileged life, she can only rely on her own wits to escape a life she was destined for, but also one that she never wanted. What happens when Allie flees as far as she can before running into a small town that just happened to be governed by a large male motorcycle fleet? Well Allie, meet the War Horse Rebellion. Put on your riding boots, it's going to be a rough ride.
Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Allison âAllieâ HiltonÂ
Warnings: Descriptions of sickness, descriptions of vomiting, Spoiler-pregnancy, parent trauma/brainwashing.
MINORS DNI! Must be 18+ MATURE CONTENT
I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.Â
A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!
Chapter 20:
ALLIEâS POV
I wake to a violent pang of nausea and roll to see that Syverson is already out of bed. Cursing myself for drinking so much last night, I try to get comfortable in bed hoping that sleep will ease the urge to vomit. Unfortunately, it doesnât work. Moments later, Iâm running to the toilet and dramatically regurgitating all of the alcohol that I thought it was a good idea to consume the night prior. Once finished, I brush my teeth and head back to bed. Austin wakes me up about two hours later holding a cup of coffee.
âGood morning, sleeping beauty.â He mutters and places the coffee on the nightstand.
I groan as the aroma that normally fills me with comfort, becomes distasteful and nauseating due to the hangover that Iâm currently nursing. Grunting, I slide further under the covers.
âYou okay?â He says as he notices this is not my usual demeanor.
âHungover.â I mutter and Sy simply grunts.
âTry some coffee and Iâll get some bread to help soak up the alcohol in your stomach.â He suggests but I shake my head.
âNo coffee, just water please.â I beg as he stands to leave the room.
âYou sure?â Sy asks as he picks up my mug.
âMhmm. I canât think about coffee right now.â I say with an err of disgust and he chuckles before taking a sip of it and making his own disgusting face.
âI donât know how you drink this shit, itâs too sweet.â  He says as he looks at the coffee with a generous pour of my favorite creamer before leaving the bedroom.
When he returns, I drink some water and eventually am able to hold down some plain toast.Â
âI didnât think you were that drunk last night.â He says when I finish.
âYeah, I think all of the celebrations with Eliza and Bananaâs engagement had me excited and drinking more than usual.â I suggest and he nods in agreement.Â
âSorry Iâm not much fun today.â I murmur and Sy sweetly kisses my head.Â
âHow about a lazy day in bed? We can watch movies and just relax?â He suggests and I smile widely.Â
âSounds perfect.âÂ
We spend the majority of the day, lying in bed and a few hours later Iâm feeling much better. Sy even indulges the rare lazy day and naps with me. Maybe a little R&R is exactly what I needed.
That night, surprisingly still tired, I fall asleep halfway through our last movie, Home Alone. Unbeknownst to me, Sy smirks at my sleeping figure before eventually turning out the lights and pulling the covers up on me.
SYVERSON'S POV:
Waking up at 5 am, Iâm surprised to see that Allie isnât next to me. Sitting up and turning on the lamp, I realize sheâs in the bathroom. Mustâve gotten up to pee or something. Tossing on some shorts so I can go workout in the garage, I knock on the bathroom door.
âSugar? Mind if I come in?â I ask, my voice cloaked in sleep.
I wait a moment and there is no answer so I carefully open the bathroom door to find Allie asleep in front of the toilet, her head resting on a rolled-up towel.Â
âDarlinâ?â I begin to panic and shake her, my mind immediately going back to her being drugged just a mere two months ago.Â
Allie squints at the light and groans as she covers her eyes.
âWhatâs wrong?â I ask with urgency that Allie does not mirror.
âSick.â She says quietly.
âThereâs no way youâre still hungover.â I state and she looks at me like Iâm Captain Obvious.
âMustâve picked up a tummy bug somewhere.â She whispers as I bend and pick her up under her neck and knees.
âNo, Sy. Iâm gonna get you sick. Stay away.â She feebly attempts to pull away from me but I ignore her as I carry her to the bed.Â
âSugar, Iâve had my tongue in your mouth as recently as last night and then slept all night with you in my arms. Whatever youâve got, Iâm already exposed. Iâm not worried about it. Just worried about you.â I say sincerely and she snuggles against me.
Getting the bathroom trashcan, I put it beside the bed and go grab her a water and some pepto bismal, placing it on her nightstand. Sheâs already immediately fallen back asleep, so I kiss her forehead and head to the garage to work out. When I return, sheâs still out cold and I shower and get ready for work since itâs now Monday. Maybe I should call in and stay home with her.
I attempt to discreetly check her forehead for a fever and she begins to stir.
âDidnât mean to wake you⊠You need anything?â I offer and she just shakes her head.
âWant me to take the day off so I can be home with you?â I offer and she shakes her head again.
âIâll be fine. I'm going to text Alyssa and let her know. Think Iâm just going to sleep all day. Iâm super tired. Head on to work and Iâll call you when I wake up.â Allie directs and I nod before kissing her head.
âI love you.â I tell her before leaving the bed.
âLove you too.â She responds groggily.
The next three days are spent with Allie being sick. Sometimes she feels bad in the mornings, yet other times sheâs throwing up in the afternoon. She tells me that she usually feels much better after getting sick, but Iâm becoming concerned. Weâre on day five of her not wanting to eat and barely sipping on Gatorade and water. I asked her to let me take her to the doctor, but she refused claiming she just didnât want to deal with anything doctor related since she was in hospital.Â
âThese viral things just tend to drag on. You know how that is. There is nothing the doctor will do for me other than tell me to push fluids and rest.â She claims. She hasn't ran a fever, but she believes that she has the flu.
Her âaccidentâ still being recent has me worried that something more serious is going on in her body. Could she have liver or kidney issues potentially? Would this be a potential side effect from the drugs that were in her system? Maybe the fluids and medicines that she received in the hospital helped at the time, but without them her body was suffering from side effects that were masked before? Hell, Iâm not medically minded at all, but as I work on the engine of an old bronco, I find my mind continuously worrying about her.
Fuck it, if she isnât better by tomorrow, Iâm taking her to the doctor whether she likes it or not. Huffing in determination, I continue to work and hope the hours pass by quickly.
ALLIEâS POV:
Itâs the wildest thing, this morning I was feeling much better when I woke up, so I did my bathroom routine, and headed to the kitchen to attempt some breakfast. Nothing sounded particularly appetizing, but I knew that under no circumstances did I want coffee. The thought of it alone made me gag. Whatever this stomach bug is, needs to hurry up and get out of my system.Â
Perusing through the pantry, I decide a banana seems agreeable. Munching on it, I look around for something else that I could pair it with. I had an overwhelming urge to drink orange juice, which was not something I usually did. I figured, maybe my body was just craving some vitamin C and sugar after days of feeling sick. Pouring myself a glass, I continue my search for food when the doorbell rings. Who could that be?
Peering out of the peephole, believe me I learned my lesson not to just blindly open the door; I am surprised to see Eliza looking as stunning as ever on the porch. Opening the door, I smile widely at her and see that sheâs holding a brown bag.Â
âHi babe!â She chirps as I wave pitifully, squinting at the sun illuminating the doorway like Iâm a mole person who just climbed out from being underground. Itâs not far from the truth.
âYou should know that Iâm still sickâ, I say as I step back from her in an attempt to keep from exposing her to whatever plague is running its course through my body.
âI know, thatâs why Iâve brought you breakfast! Figured, itâs a beautiful warm day out and some fresh air could do you good!â She tilts her head toward the porch rocking chairs. I smile with pure gratefulness emanating from my body. Sheâs such a good friend.Â
âAre you sure? I donât want you to catch this.â I add and Eliza grins behind her sunglasses.Â
âI promise to keep a 3-foot distance at all times.â She adds and I giggle.
Following her outside, we set up on the porch rocking chairs and I pull mine away from hers just in case.Â
She places down a disposable coffee cup, and I attempt to cover my disgust. Handing me a breakfast croissant, I smile in relief as it actually is more appealing to me than anything has been in days and hum as I take the first bite.
âYou are the best friend ever⊠seriously! This is the first food that Iâve wanted to eat since Saturday.â I admit as Eliza flips her hair off her shoulder and boasts.
âI try! I bet Syâs a decent nurse⊠only to you though.âÂ
Nodding as I swallow my mouthful, I respond. âHeâs really been trying and Iâm so grateful. Iâve never really had anyone take care of me when I was sick before. My parents never wanted to risk catching an illness that would potentially take them away from their job or social lives, so growing up I would essentially quarantine myself until I was better and only then could I rejoin the family. My mom would have the house keepers disinfect the entire house, focusing on my room. It would smell like Clorox for two months after I had even a slight cold. My meals were placed at the foot of my door like I was in prison.â I giggle at the memory.Â
Shaking her head, Eliza thinks about her response before speaking. âI had the opposite and I guess I didnât realize how lucky I was at the time. I would legitimately lay on my mom for days whenever I was sick. Her presence alone brought me comfort. I canât imagine not having that as a kid.â Shrugging my shoulders, I steady my breath.
âI donât think my motherâs presence ever really brought me comfort, so I didnât mind much.â
We continue to eat and Iâm feeling a bit more energized but I force myself to take slow bites in hopes of keeping my food down.
âDid I get the wrong coffee? You havenât touched it.â Eliza observes.
Shyly and nervous that she will be offended, I decide to answer honestly.Â
âNo, no! Not at all. This is beyond thoughtful, like I have never had anyone other than Sy do something like this so I am incredibly thankful. Itâs just, for some reason, with this illness the thought of coffee makes me want to hurl. I havenât had any since Saturday morning. Itâs so strange! Like, even thinking about the smell makes me want to vomit.âÂ
Eliza looks at me strangely before speaking, âThatâs crazy. Itâs almost like a pregnancy aversion.âÂ
Arching my eyebrow, I urge her to explain.
âMy older sister had all of these aversions to certain foods that she typically loved, but only while she was pregnant. She threw up trying to force down a bite of her own birthday cake one year.â She laughs at the memory.
âHuh, that is crazyâŠI take birth control though, every day at the same time. Iâm very consistent.â I inform her, dismissing the thought as soon as it entered my brain.
âStill, lots of babies have been conceived while on birth control. Itâs not exactly 100% effective.â Eliza mentions and I set down my breakfast sandwich.Â
âSurely notâŠI mean, I canât be.â I add.
âWhen was your last period?âÂ
âHonestly, I donât rememberâŠâ Horror takes over my features as I consider the possibility as my brain searches frantically to recall my last period. Somehow, the dates seem to all run together.Â
âIâll run to town and buy a test.â Eliza offers and I nod vacantly.
âOkayâŠthank you.â I manage.
Grabbing her purse, Eliza dashes off of the porch to her car. Remaining on the porch almost motionless, I try my hardest to think back to the last time I used a tampon or even bought some. Why donât I keep this in an app on my phone?! I chastise myself internally. Iâve never had a pregnancy scare, but I also always used oral contraceptives as well as condomsâŠuntil recently. Until Austin Syverson.
Austin and I have been having sex without any protection other than my daily pill. God, Iâm such an idiot. What if Iâm actually pregnant? Sy isnât even certain about marriage! I donât know how he would react to a baby. We havenât even been together for six months yet. We are just getting on our feet as a couple and this, this could ruin everything. Iâve already brought him so much trouble as it is. Will he think that I planned this? Like I planned to trap him? Will he leave me? No! I trust that he would be there for me and our baby, but that doesnât mean he would want it. He might resent me for the rest of his life for confining him into a family that he didnât want. Chewing on the inside of my lip to distract myself from my chaotic thoughts and the nausea that has washed over me, I shakily stand when Eliza returns.
Handing me a white plastic bag with THANK YOU printed in bold letters across it, she gives me a look of concern.
âYou okay?â Tears well into my eyes as I shrug a response.
âDo you want me to call Sy? Iâm sure heâd come--âÂ
âNo! No⊠I donât want to worry him. Thereâs still a chance that it could be a false alarm.â I decide and Eliza nods.
âWill you stay?â I ask her and she smiles with concern before pulling me into a hug.
âOf course, Iâll stay. Iâm here for you babes.â She speaks against my shoulder as we embrace and Iâm so grateful that sheâs here.
We head inside and to the master bathroom, completely ignoring the possibility that Iâm contagious. Eliza perches on the end of the bed.Â
âI got two brands. One is pink and the other is blue and has a digital response. I say take them both so that thereâs no confusion.â Eliza pulls the boxes out of the bag, opens them and hands me the pee sticks.
âIs this your first pregnancy scare?â She asks gently and I nod.
âUntil Sy, Iâve always used my birth control and condoms. In the back of my mind, I feel like I knew Spencer was the type to cheat and didnât want to risk an STD exposure.âÂ
âSmart thinking. That douchebag probably has some now, in prison.â She smirks and it helps just for a moment to distract me from the tension.
âWell, no sense in waiting any longer.â I say before heading into the bathroom.
âIâll be right here.â Eliza states.
Peeing on the tests is actually more difficult than I had imagined, but I replace the caps and set them down on the bathroom counter before washing my hands and returning to Eliza who starts at timer on her phone.Â
Eliza attempts to distract me from the obvious, when my phone starts ringing on the bed.
âItâs Austin. He must be taking a break for lunch.â I tell her and she smiles, urging me to answer.
âHello?â
âHey Sugar. Howâre ya feeling?â
âHey babe. Iâm doing okay right now. You breaking for lunch?â
âYeah, that and I couldnât stop worrying about ya. Wanted to check in.âÂ
âIâm fine, you donât need to worry! Iâm actually here with Eliza. She stopped by to bring me a breakfast sandwich. We ate on the porch and enjoyed the sun.â
âAh, thatâs nice. Sheâs real thoughtful to do that.â
âI know! It was exactly what I needed too.â
âYou were able to eat it and keep it down?â He asks.
âSo far.â I reply with hope in my voice.
âExcellent. Well listen, if youâre not better by tomorrow, Iâm taking ya to the doctor and I donât want to hear nothing else about it.â He gets authoritative which shouldnât be such a turn on to me, but it is and he knows it.Â
âSyyyyâŠâ I whine and he interrupts.
âYou heard me. Youâve been living off of Gatorade and toast. This is me communicating with you; I am worried and would like you to at least be seen by a doctor. Please.â He says and I sigh.Â
âOkay, if Iâm not better by tomorrow, you can take me to the doctor.â I repeat and dart my eyes to Eliza.
âThank you.â Syverson croons into the phone, a bit smug because he won so easily.
âIâm going to get back to chatting with âLiza, but I hope you enjoy your lunch.â
âSounds good, Darlinâ. Love you.â
âI love you too.â I reply before ending the call and taking a deep breath.
âIâve never, ever heard Sy so down bad before. Heâs like a completely different person with you!â Eliza gushes and I smile. Elizaâs timer goes off, bringing us back to the issue at hand and my smile quickly drops.Â
We both stand and make our way to the bathroom where the tests are face down on the counter.
âReady?â Eliza asks and I force the nausea that threatens to spill out, back down before nodding.
I flip over both of the tests and the answer is clear.
Two parallel pink lines are displayed in the tiny window of the first test.Â
The second test, has the word PREGNANT in black letters across the digital screen.
Taking a deep breath as tears fill my eyelids, I turn to the toilet and vomit spectacularly into the bowl. Heaving the contents of my stomach back up, I feel Eliza pulling my hair away from my face and gently rubbing my back. The contact startles me momentarily, but Iâm grateful for it as it distracts me briefly from the disgusting act of puking, along with the real reason that I have been so sick.
Flushing the toilet, I turn and sit against the wall while Eliza wets a washcloth and hands it to me.Â
Taking it gratefully, I manage to mutter a quiet, âthank you.â
Eliza kicks off her shoes, and sits down on the floor next to me as we process the news in silence.
Eliza doesnât dare speak, until she hears the soft sniffles from my nose as I try to convince my tears to remain in my eyes.Â
âHey, itâs going to be okay.â She reassures as she wraps me in a hug.Â
âI know this must be a huge shock, but youâre going to be an incredible mom! And Syverson, God, he was meant to be a dad. Heâs looked out for me like a big brother for years so I canât even begin to imagine how amazing of a father he will be.âÂ
âHowâŠâ sniffle... âHow did this happen? I mean, I havenât missed any birth control pills. I even took them on time when I was in the hospital!â My tears now fall freely down my face and Eliza begins to look pensive.
âDidnât they pump your stomach while you were in the hospital?â
Realization dawns on me as I think back to the hospital. A very faint memory enters my head. I was trying to get the doctors and nurses to discharge me, and they had me sign different pages of a packet. I was exhausted from being sick, and groggy from not sleeping well, so by the third page I just started signing without really reading them. I vaguely remember the nurse, Kaitlyn I think was her name, mentioning the word contraception. Slapping my palm to my forehead, the tears continue to stream down my face involuntarily.
âThis is my fault. Iâm such an idiot.â I mutter and Eliza entertwines our fingers together as she holds my hand.
âItâs not your fault.âÂ
âIt is though. I didnât pay much attention to the discharge spiel and then that weekend, I told Sy that we could go without protection.â
âI mean, I think all of us have been there. It could have happened to any of us!â
âAt least you know that Bananas wants to marry you. Iâll raise my kids with a boyfriend or a husband who marries me out of pity or some old school sense of moral duty. This isnât how I planned on having kids, you know? I donât have a family. My kids wonât have grandparents that sneak them candy and take them to the fair. I donât even know how to be a mother! Itâs not like I was raised by anyone particularly kind or motherly.â I spill the worries without hardly taking a breath, feeling like if I donât spiral now, Iâll push the thoughts down and explode inconveniently later.
"Austin has never even mentioned kids to me⊠I never brought it up because things were so new and I didnât want to scare him away!â
âTake a breath, Allie! I have known Austin Syverson for years, and I know for a fact that he will be over the moon. He may be shocked at first, but he will be so excited to have a baby with you. Heâs amazing with kids and I know how much he loves you.â Eliza reassures.
Continuing to chew on my lip as I attempt to calm down, I look at Eliza.Â
âIf he leaves me, Iâll have nothing. IâŠdonât think I can do this alone.â I whisper my biggest and most vulnerable fear.
âHe will not leave you, and I am 1000% positive that you wonât be alone. You really think me, Annie, and the rest of the crew would allow that? Hell, Bananas will probably be so excited that heâll try to get into the delivery room!â She jokes lightheartedly and my stomach turns at the thought of having to push a whole ass baby out of my vagina. Especially if it takes after Syversonâs monstrous stature. Eliza chuckles at the face I make before standing and pulling me up off of the bathroom floor. We head into the bedroom and lay side by side on the large king bed.
âHow are you going to tell him?â She asks.
âI have no idea.â I answer honestly.
âOkay, when are you going to tell him?â I donât respond and Eliza turns to look at me.Â
âThere isnât a man alive more perceptive than Austin Syverson. He was literally trained to sniff secrets out of people... He may not think like a woman, but if he gets even the smallest feeling that something is off, he will hound you until you fess up. Iâm just saying, save yourself the energy of trying to dodge the conversation. It will be better for both of you to face it head on and get it out in the open.â
âWhat if he wants me toâŠget rid of it? IâŠI canât do that âLiza. I know that Iâm the least person in the world qualified to be a mom, because Iâve never had a good role model of one and my life has had more drama than most soap operas. I canât explain it right, but the moment I knew that there was a baby in there, I imagined it. Itâs like this protective feeling that overcame me.â
âThatâs love, Allie. You love your baby already.â She smiles sincerely.Â
âThat means youâll be a good mom, regardless of your family history. You love your child and already want to protect him or her.â Tears fill my eyelids once more as her words sink in.
Sheâs right. I do love this little baby and will protect it no matter what.
âSyverson will want you to keep it. He told me once years ago, when he was very drunk, that he wished he could have a family of his own.â Eliza shares and I lay back once more with a soft smile taking my features.Â
Taking a deep, calming breath, I close my eyes and imagine Austin as a father. I picture him caressing my swollen belly, kissing my forehead in the hospital, his proud smile as he holds up a little chubby baby wrapped in blankets. I picture all three of us, walking down the street with our child perched on his shoulders, giggling happily, as we hold hands. Suddenly, the excitement of all of the possibilities seem to overtake the dread I originally felt.Â
So many years of my life, I have been indoctrinated to believe that anyone of our social status that got pregnant out of wedlock was simply a classless floozy who was bound to end up alone, mooching off of their parentâs wealth for the rest of their life.Â
âNo respectable man would want a woman who already has a child that belongs to someone else. Sheâs essentially damaged goods now. Nobody wants to be stuck raising a little brat that isnât even their blood.â I recall my father blathering after rumors that one of the opulent members of the country club, Sarah Robertson, had become pregnant from a one-night stand. I knew that I felt differently, but I had yet to find my voice. My parents were extremely clear that if I were to embarrass them in that manner, they would disown me and I would be financially cut off. My mother preached that you had to satisfy your manâs needs in the bedroom in order to keep him, but under no circumstances should you carelessly get pregnant and keep it before marriage. Mistakes like that were almost always, âquietly taken care of.â There was an order that must be followed in order to maintain our social dignity. I always thought it was extremely vain, but my parentâs vanity was their main personality characteristic so in an attempt to please them, I did exactly what they told me too.Â
Until, I didnât.
Until I chose to step out and make a life for myself that wasnât given to me. One that I had earned by taking a risk, believing in myself, and working hard. It led me to freedom and independence. It led me to Austin. It led me to this group of dangerous bikers who have become my family. Now, it was going to lead me to motherhood and I will not allow my former shame to affect my future happiness.
I break the silence in the room when I softly utter, âIâm going to be a mom!â Eliza nods with happiness as I smile astonishingly back at her. Tears, now a result of joy, begin to slip down the sides of my face, tickling my skin with their path. Caressing my nonexistent bump, I laugh in relief through the sobs of happiness that we will be our own version of a family.
The shock of this unpredictable news tilts from horror, to excitement. I pray that Eliza's right about Austin, because heâll be home in four hours and I am going to tell him.
He's going to be a daddy.
We are going to have a baby. Half Austin, Half me.
⥠summary: You meet Syâs family. Lord help you.
⥠Serves as a direct prequel to Y is for Yes.
⥠Captain Syverson x Black OC/Reader
⥠Warnings: boy talk.
-
âWait,â you suddenly squeaked, grabbing Sy by his arm and him pulling back. He complied, eyebrow inquisitively raised to the short curls drooping on his forehead.
âWhat?â
Your eyes flicked back and forth from his face to the daunting yellow front door of his childhood home brightly lit by the outdated porch light.
âWhat if they donât like me?â you asked under your breath as if Syâs family on the other side of the door would hear.
âWe been through this, shug,â he exhaled.
âI know, baby,â you practically whined. âBut still.â
âTheyâre gonna love you.â
âThey donât even know me.â
âWell, not yet. But when they get to know you and see what a fucking diamond you are, theyâd be country dumb not to like you.â
You pouted, mulling it over as your gaze dropped to the dirt of the walkway.
âHey, look at me.â Syâs finger lifted your chin up to meet his adoring stare.
You obeyed, fluttering your lashes and practically melting his insides in the process. You were too fucking cute for words.
âYou know I wouldnât be doing this if I knew you couldnât do it,â he said. âI wouldnât take you anywhere I knew you wouldnât be safe, baby.â
âI know.â
âI know itâs scary and nerve wracking, but I promise everythingâs gonna be fine. Easy. You wanna make a good impression and all that but it donât take much to make a bunch of country folk like you.â
âYeah, if I was white.â
âThat donât matter none.â
You leveled him with an unimpressed look. âYou didnât tell them.â
âIt didnât come up.â
âSo they donât know?â
âYou know my brotherâs wife, Lay, is black. Youâd think Iâd lead you to the lionâs den if my family was a bunch of bigots?â
For lack of an answer heâd understand, you pressed your lips together and stared up at him, analyzing his open body language and sincere gleam in his eyes.
He seemed so sure and confident and you trusted him.
âI just donât wanna fuck it up.â
âYou wonât.â
âI really want them to like me.â
âThey will.â
âI need them to.â
Sy grinned. âThis means everything to me that yer doing this. And you know if they didnât like you, Iâd have to disown myself.â
âStop that.â
ââM serious, darling,â he teased, leaning over to peck your cheek and then the side of your downturned lips. âWhat kinda idiot do I look like choosing them over a sweet girl like you?â
He succeeded in getting a smile out of you despite your worry. His lips finally met yours and you held back deepening the sentiment.
âYou just talking shit.â
âNo, I mean it.â
âYou love your family too much to do that.â
I think I love you more sat on the tip of Syâs tongue, but he swallowed it with another smile.
âYou trust me?â he asked instead.
You thought for a moment, considering the pros and cons. The worst that could happen is they could be racist assholes, you break up with Sy and move back home and date some boring lawyer from your momâs country club.
âYeah,â you said, nodding. âFuck it. Letâs do this.â
Your heart was nestled in your stomach yet beating like a kick drum in your ears the entire time it took Sy to take your hand in his, lead you to the yellow door, knock once and let the two of you in. The immediate aroma of a dayâs worth of cooking hits your senses, melting your insides and transporting you back to a time youâve never experienced. Your family didnât do dinners like this and yet, it already felt like youâd been here many times before.
âIs that Nicky?â a male voice boomed from the living room a few paces to the right of the front door.
Sy rolled his blue eyes back in feigned annoyance as he entered the next room. You followed close enough to be hidden behind his large frame even if you yourself are quite tall and hard to miss.
There sat on the couch in his Sundayâs best, nursing an ice cold beer fresh out the freezer and watching college football highlights was a man youâd easily mistake for Sy if you hadnât walked in with him. You blinked a few times to ensure who youâre seeing is correct and then looked up at your own man for further confirmation.
âYou lazy ass bastard,â Sy snickered under his breath, snatching the beer straight out his hand, taking a swig for himself and pointing an accusatory finger. âYouâre never doing a fucking thing every time Iâm over here.â
âThen stop coming over here.â
âLawn needs to be mowed, paintâs chipping and the roofâs leaking and yer on yer ass as usual.â
âOh, suck my dick, G.I. Joe,â he laughed, holding his hand out. âGimme back my beer.â
âMan, shut up and stand like you got some sense,â Sy barked, taking another sip for emphasis. âThereâs a lady present.â
âLadyâ?â The man uttered, sitting up and looking around Sy at the same time Sy pulled you from your hiding spot into the spotlight.
This close, youâre almost taken aback by the resemblance. The same ocean eyes, upturned nose, thin lips, and boyishly rosy cheeks that youâve grown so accustomed to are clear as day on somebody else, instantly silencing some of the anxieties rambling around in your brain. His hair was slicked back with gel but his hair was probably just as curly as Syâs.
âAh, hell!â the man cheered, jumping up from off the couch and looking you over in the same inquisitive way you were doing him and then pointing. âYou the lilâ filly thatâs got my brotherâs panties in a twist, ainât you?â
âWhereâr your manners? Donât call her no filly.â
âYâgonna introduce us?â
âBegrudgingly,â Sy murmured below his breath and gestured towards you, squeezing your hand when he started with your name. âThis is my older brother, Derek,â he said, now gesturing a hand out to the other man. He states your name again and Derek tried it out for himself.
âPretty name,â Derek said, holding a hand out. You went to shake it, but he instead brought yours to his mouth to delicately peck. âGlad to finally meet you.â
âIâm gonna rip your lips straight off your face if you ever do that again,â Sy grunted, cupping your hand and retrieving it from Derekâs for you and exchanging it with the beer.
âDonât get strict on me, Nicky.â
âStrict nothing, ya disrespectful lilâ shit. Whereâs Mama and ânem?â
âTheyâre in the kitchen, moody bitch,â Derek snapped back, waving his brother off as though he were a fly. âThat ainât no way to talk in front of a woman.â
âDonât talk to me about my woman and go help yours with your baby. Whenâs the last time you changed a diaper?â
You observed the exchange, minutely entertained at the visual of Sy essentially arguing with himself. They throw harmless digs back and forth with little to no heat or malice in their tones, but you couldnât help but stand by awkwardly and wait for Sy to snap out of the brotherly loop and introduce you to the remainder of his family.
As if on queue, the shifting sounds of people in an adjacent room filtered through the walls and grew louder the closer they got. Voices arose and you stiffened in anticipation.
âWho the hell is doing all that cussing in my damn house?â an older lady with light brown graying hair done up in large curls called on her way in and promptly stopped in her tracks at the sight of you. Her grumpy expression brightened into something warm, inviting and pleasantly surprised and you couldnât help returning the smile.
âHey, Mama!â Sy cheered, turning away from Derek and settling a reassuring hand on your lower back. He wrapped the woman in a tight bear hug and kissed her temple. âYâgot her hair done and youâre lookinâ good.â
âOh, stop,â she giggled, curious blue eyes never leaving your brown ones as she swatted her son off and stepped towards you. âHey, darling.â
âMama,â Sy started, grin widening by the second. âThis is my girlâŠâ
The remainder of his sentence faded off into oblivion and your hearing blocked the rest of it out to focus on that last word before your name.
Girl.
He called you his girl.
He never mentioned anything about you being his girl. Well, to you, anyway.
You two hadnât talked about that. You two never established that and yet, here he was just saying it ever so casually as your insides bursted with barely contained elation.
Oh, you? Well, yes. Youâre Syâs girl because he said so. It didnât matter what was said or done because at the end of the day, youâre Syâs girl. Itâs not a title you had to beg and plead for; it just is and Sy said it so confidently you almost forget that he didnât even ask you. He just said it like it was a known fact!
The sky is blue, what goes up must come down and you were Syâs girlfriend.
His fucking girlfriend.
Youâve never been one of those before.
You continued smiling, giddy and barely containing the urge to cartwheel as Sy introduced you to his mother, Judith âJudyâ Josephine Syverson, neeâ Boyd.
âItâs nice to meet you, maâam,â you said and she waves that off with a playful roll of her eyes.
âNone of this maâam stuff, darling. Yer practically family.â
âYâcalling it kinda early, ainât you, Mama?â Derek interrupted from the coach and Judy glared over your shoulder.
âWasnât nobody talking to you,â she said.
âYeah, mind yers,â Sy chimed in and earned a look of his own. He flinched at the hardness of it and shrugged sheepishly.
âWhat?â
âQuit instigating,â Judy snapped and nodded towards the front door. âGo on and do something useful instead of sitting in my house cussing like you donât have the sense God gave a billy goat. I told you that washing machineâs broke, so grab your Daddyâs tools out the shed and make something shake.â
âHeâs not doing nothing but watching TV, Mama!â Sy pointed at his brother, instantly turning back into his adolescent self. âMake him do it. Iâm entertaining company.â
âHa ha!â Derek sang, sticking his tongue out to taunt Sy.
âI told you to do it. I can show her around my house and introduce her to everyone just fine,â Judy insisted, pulling you away from Sy with the slightest brush of her hand intertwining with yours. âYou donât mind, dâya, baby?â
Judy didnât strike you as the type to take no for an answer so despite your discomfort at being split from the only person you knew in the house, you shook your head.
âOh, uh, no. Of course not.â
âSee?â Judy said, squeezing your hand comfortingly. âNow, gone and git âcus dinnerâs ready soon.â
âCan I at least say hi to Alayna and Dylan first?â Sy begged. âAnd what about my nephew?â
âYouâll see them at dinner. Gone,â Judy commanded with finality and Sy begrudgingly headed to the front door.
âIâll be back, shug,â he said on his way out. âYâall be nice.â
âMama, you shoulda whooped him more when he was a baby then he wouldnât talk back so much,â Derek said, shaking his head in mock disappointment once his brother was outside and out of earshot.
âShut up, Ricky,â Judy muttered, clearly just as annoyed with her oldest. âStop teasing him. You know heâs sensitive.â
âCrybaby ass soldier boy.â
Judyâs eyes rolled up again and she patted your hand. âYou sure this is what youâre ready for?â she asked quietly.
You giggled, truly enjoying the dynamic amongst them. You were definitely in for a real treat when everybody got together.
âIâve got something for you, too. Iâm not gonna keep begging you to get that lawn under control.â
âCâmon, Mama, weâre about to eat andââ Derek groaned but the older woman cut it off with another pointed stare.
âDonât make me cuss you out on a Sunday in front of a guest.â
âUh, fine!â he said, standing again and making a show of displaying his attire. âGuess Iâll just mow the lawn in slacks and a button up in the middle of a Texas spring.â
âGuess you will.â Judy shrugged.
Derek left in the same huff and puff as Sy, leaving his mother unfazed and uncaring. Once Derek was gone, Judy turned to you.
âI think if Iâd had little girls, I wouldnât get as much attitude,â she said, chuckling once and then walking towards the room she came from. You involuntarily follow with your arm looped with hers.
âWell, Iâm one of three girls and itâs all pretty much the same,â you told her.
âOh, are you? Where do you fall?â
âMiddle.â
âLike Nicky.â
âYeah.â
âSomething in common already.â
Before you can respond, Judy entered the small kitchen where the source of the houseâs aroma was being tended in the oven by a model-esque brown-skinned young lady with her natural curls flowing freely down her back in an apron.
It should be a testament to how anxious you were at the flood of relief that washed over you when you recognized the young woman as Derekâs wife and not some kind of help. The optics werenât on the Syversonâs side in that regard, and you can only imagine the fear that ran through this womanâs veins when she was first brought home as the lone black woman in a family of white Texans.
For that you saluted her bravery and sacrifice because realistically you couldnât have done it without the daunting feeling of isolation as the token minority no matter how much you liked Sy.
And you certainly wouldnât have brought a child into the mix.
âLay Baby, look whoâs finally here,â Judy started and the woman checking the food in the oven spun to see for herself.
The visible shock was evident in Alaynaâs face when her eyes landed on you. Even though youâd never met this woman a day in your life, there was an instant yet silent recognition and understanding unsaid by the mouths because looks would always ring louder.
âHi,â she greeted sweetly, flashing a bright smile that matched every other perfect thing about her. This woman was beautiful beyond words, sharing quite a few notable traits with yourself that go beyond skin color.
The Syverson boys definitely had a type.
âDarling, this is Alayna, my favorite child,â Judy teased with a hand out to the young woman. âShe did me the biggest favor and got Rick off my hands.â
Alayna chuckled, shutting the oven and removing the mitts.
Judy gestured to you next. âLay Baby, this isââ
Your name blurted from Alaynaâs mouth in question.
âYeah.â You nodded.
âI knew I wouldnât forget,â she said. âNicky talks about you all the time. I feel like I already know you.â
At that, she winked a dark brown eye unseen by Judy. You return the sentiment with a smirk.
âItâs nice to have another girl around here,â Judy continued, moving past you to the stove to check the steaming pots and give them a quick stir. âWe were beginning to feel outnumbered, werenât we, Lay Baby?â
âSure were,â Alayna agreed, taking a rest at the wooden table in the corner of the kitchen. âI can only imagine that kind of hell while the boys were growing up.â
âIâm still living in it,â Judy complained, adjusting the stove burners, shaking her head in frustration and glancing over at Alayna.. âYouâd think after twenty-nine years your husband will stop antagonizing his baby brother, but itâs like a sport with those two.â
You stand where Judy left you in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of your next move. Do you put your purse down and just sit, too? Isnât that what Southern women do? Sit in the kitchen and gossip over iced tea while the men in the family worked?
The uncertainty must ring loud in the small room because before you can even offer to help cook or ask anything, Judy backed away from the stove and took your arm again.
âCâmon, darling,â she said. âYou, too, Lay. Weâre gonna find Dylan and Christian, set this table and get to eating.â
âFinally,â Alayna uttered and glanced at the rooster clock above the stove. âItâs âbout time I get him a bottle.â
Judy answered the evident question etched in your scrunched in your eyebrows with, âChristian is Ricky and Layâs son. Barely a few months old and just as cute as a button.â
âAnd hereâs Mommyâs little button now,â Alaynaâs voice went up a few octaves the instant the three of you stepped foot on the back porch.
Youâre met with another man slowly pacing the expanse of the porch with a soda bottle in one hand, a thick novel in the other and the sleeping infant strapped to his chest. He resembled the other Syverson boys in looks and frame but there was a distinct sweetness in his eyes where Derekâs held mischief and Syâs held sadness.
âFinally got him to sleep, lilâ fussy thing,â the man told the three of you, doing a double take from his book when he noticed you on the other side of Judy. âOh. Hi.â
âDarling, this is Dylan, my youngest,â Judy said and rubbed a reassuring hand over your shoulder. âDyl, honey, this is Nickyâs friend.â
Dylan repeated your name after Judy and a corner of his lips quirked up. âItâs nice meeting you, maâam. Could I ask you a question, though?â
âUh, yeah? Whatâs up?â
âWhatâs a pretty girl like you doing slumming with Nickyâs dumbass?â
You snorted, fighting back a chuckle while Judyâs eyes rolled into hell for the umpteenth time just this afternoon. Albeit rhetorical, you didnât have a genuine answer for that so you shrugged.
âGuess he caught me at the right time,â you told him.
âGod bless whenever that was,â he replied.
âStop flirting and come help your mama set this table,â Alayna huffed, arms out to receive Christian. Dylan undid the baby and they carefully transferred him over. Judy looped her arms with Dylanâs now and retreated back inside the house.
âMy little sweetie,â Alayna cooed and angled him for you to see. âHeâs a peach, isnât he?â
That was an understatementâChristian Syverson was quite literally the most adorable baby youâd ever set your sights on. If you ever needed evidence of cherubs inhabiting earth, the sleeping infant in Alaynaâs arms was proof.
Your bottom lip poked out in admiration that anything could be so precious.
âOh, Alayna, heâs everything.â
âI did my thing, huh?â
âYou sure did,â you agreed, leaning in and watching his miniature features twitch and flinch in his sleep. âHow old is he?â
âSeven months,â she said and then looked over at you. âYou want kids?â
âOh, uh,â you stuttered, immediately standing back to your full height and looking away to avoid her expectant gaze. âUm. I donât think Iâve thought about it.â
âYeah?â
âI mean I love kids, but I guess it never occurred to me. I mean, it has. Iâm a woman and I think all of us have at some point though, but itâs never lingered.â
âOf course.â Alayna nodded and pecked Christianâs forehead. âI didnât think I wanted any until meeting Derek. This little angel was a surprise.â
âA blessing in disguise, I guess.â
âIâll say. Come sit with me a minute.â
Alayna took a seat with her legs crossed on the wicker sofa, Christian cuddled close in her arms. You joined her and set your purse on the matching wicker table before you.
âYou wanna hold him?â
Your incessant staring made it incredibly obvious that yes, if you didnât get your hands on the little angel, youâd explode. Instead of jumping at the chance, you shook your head and brushed off the offer.
âOh, no, itâs fine. I mean, you just met me and I know moms donât really likeââ
âYeah, but I asked. And I can tell you really want to,â she said with a friendly grin. âAnd I like you already. I can tell youâve got good energy. Go on and take him.â
âYouâre sure.â
âIâd be insulted if you didnât.â
And before you could oppose and ask if sheâs sure again, sheâs handing you her son with all the trust in the world. You immediately take him in your arms, supporting his neck and head as you bring him closer to inspect his tiny face.
âHeâs so beautiful,â you repeated.
âHe looks like his Daddy, donât he?â
âOnly a little. Same nose on all three of them.â
âImagine my surprise when Sy brought me home and I saw I got the runt of the litter.â Alayna scoffed, an edge of lighthearted teasing in her tone.
âThey all just go by Sy, huh?â
âItâs a thing,â she explained, staring out at the bare backyard in desperate need of mowing. âYou just gotta pick your favorite one.â
âHmm,â you hummed and looked up from Christian to his mother. âHowâd you and your Sy meet?â
âWork,â she answered with a fond smile as she recollected. âWe worked in the same auto shop. I was just a receptionist working there to pay for school and he was the loudest, most obnoxious, meanest jackass who worked there and I had the biggest fucking crush on him. I hated him but I needed him so bad.â
âSounds like your everyday enemies to lovers romance novel.â
âYeah, I eventually warmed up, but I told him he had to tone down the asshole act if he wanted a shot with me. I didnât think we were going anywhere but I just woke up one day as a Syverson. It happened so quickly. Then I woke up one day and Iâm Mommy. Weird, huh?â
âNot if itâs what you wanted.â
âI didnât know what I wanted until I got it. Now Iâm right where I need to be,â she said, beaming from ear to ear and caressing Christianâs pink cheek with her index finger. âDidnât think I could still pursue law school and be a mom all at once, but Iâm doing it.â
âThatâs good.â
âWhat about you? What do you wanna do?â
Ainât that the million dollar question?
âYouâre gonna think itâs pathetic.â
âTry me.â
You thought on it another moment, leaving the inquisition hanging in the air for longer than normal. Alayna thankfully caught on and nodded in understanding.
âItâs okay not to know.â
âIâm twenty-one. I feel like I should know.â
âYouâve got years to figure it out. Whatâre you in school for?â
âIâm majoring in communications but I wouldnât necessarily call it a passion. Itâs something to do. Just something I picked.â
âI get it. I switched majors at least four times before I landed on taking pre-law. It happens, girl.â
You didnât have the heart to tell the woman you only picked communications as a last resort because your private school in Texas was the furthest place your mother was willing to let you go. You wouldâve gone further west but Texas was the trade-off.
âYeah,â you exhaled instead and diverted your attention back to the baby in your arms.
âYou didnât meet Nicky at school or anything, huh?â
âOh, no. I go to an all girls university.â
âHmmm,â she hummed. âHeâs a boy, so he kinda skimped on the details of how yâall met.â
âItâs embarrassing.â
âEven better,â she teased, scooting closer and never breaking eye contact as she waited for the story.
âUh, well,â you started, shaking your head at your past self. âIt was this passed New Year's Eve and my homegirls and I were barhopping. We go to this random hole in the wall and weâre kinda bored. Itâs not our scene, mostly old guys in there, not really atmospheric. Kinda gross if Iâm honest.â
âYeah, sounds like someplace Nicky would be.â
âSy, well, Nicky was at the bar and we got to playing eye tag. Iâm not thinking too deep into it, but my friend dared me to just go up to him and kiss him at midnight. I thought she was joking. And she was. Sorta.â
âYou didnât.â
âI wish I could say I didnât.â
âOh, my god.â
âSo at midnight, my tipsy, dumbass gets up and marches right over and just kisses him,â you finished, internally cringing. âNot just a peck. A kiss kiss. Like full on lip locking. I donât know what came over me.â
âI wouldâve never.â
âI wish I hadnât.â
âIf you hadnât, you would be here right now.â
âYeah, but I just wish I did it differently. Or let him come up to me. Or, I donât know, been normal and just asked his name or something.â
âDoesnât seem like he minded too much.â
âYeah, he didnât.â
âI think thatâs kinda sweet.â
âItâs sweet now that weâre dating, but he couldâve reacted way worse.â
âKnowing Nicky how I know him, he wouldnâtâve.â
âKnowing me like how?â
Behind you, Sy appeared at the door, eyeing the two of you as he wiped grease from his hands with a dish rag. âWhat yâall girls talking about?â
âYouâre so nosey,â Alayna groaned. âCome say hi to your nephew.â
âIf my nameâs brought up, Iâm inclined to know.â Sy stepped out on the porch and his eyebrows quirked up at the sight of you holding Christian. âLookit you, shug.â
âHeâs so cute.â You pouted again, running your fingers along the back of his palm. âIâm obsessed.â
The image did something very foreign to Syâs insides. While adorable, it triggered the caveman instincts in the back of his brain and he had to force himself to not outright ask if you wanted one of your own.
The subject of having kids hasnât arisen as it pertained to you, but the naturally maternal fashion in which you hold his nephew was grounds for giving you as many as you wanted. Lord knows he would. Heâd give you anything.
âYeah, itâs easy to get caught up in him,â he said in lieu of his inner monologue. âLemme hold him.â
âAht!â Alayna snapped, hand up and directing him towards the door. âWash them nasty ass hands before you touch my child.â
âA lilâ grease ainât never hurt nobody,â Sy huffed on his way inside.
Alayna leaned across you to make sure Syâs out of earshot before whispering, âNicky would make a great dad.â
You did your best in ignoring the implication and nod. âYou think so?â
âKnow so.â
âHmmm.â You glanced off to the side. âWhenever thatâll be.â
âI donât mean to lay it on so thick.â She repositioned herself closer to you. âIâm just a little shocked he brought somebody home. Heâs never really done that since Iâve known him anyway.â
âSurely, he has exes.â
âIâm not saying he doesnât. There was one girl. Uh, so nasty. So rude. Wasnât good for him but sheâd been around since before I met Derek. I donât count her, though.â
âWhy?â
There was something she wasnât explicitly saying. Whatever her lips didnât say, her expression did.
âMy brother's not a relationship guy,â she informed you. âHe talked about you so much that we were practically begging to meet you and see what all the hype was about. Judy told him not to bother showing up if you werenât going to come with.â
âReally?â Warmth pooled your cheeks. âHe talks about me?â
âSo much that itâd be annoying if it werenât so cute.â
âWowâŠâ you sighed. âI didnât expect that.â
âThe Syversons men are very affectionate, so youâll get used to it.â
âI can tell,â you replied quietly.
âYeah, Ricky especially, huh?â
You eyes widened at what youâd said and its implication. You shook your head and reverted your attention to anywhere other than her smirk to cool the heat of your cheeks.
âI didnât mean it like that. I wasnât trying to say anything likeââ
âOh, girl, please,â she laughed, easing your nerves instantly. âI know my man. I know he loves a pretty woman and you are just his type.â
You didnât know what to say to that, so you settled for nodding. Honestly, how do you respond?
âI know weâre a very forward family.â
âYeah, thatâs one word for it.â
Alayna giggled. âI hope Iâm not freaking you out.â
âI expected worse. I prefer this over what I expected.â
âAnd you expected Confederate flags, klan robes in the closet and a cross burning in the yard, huh?â
âUh, yeah.â
âI been there. I was just as terrified as you.â
âHowâd you get used to it?â
Alayna shrugged. âTime helps. Lots of vetting. Lots of overthinking. You work through it.â
âHandsâre clean!â Syâs booming voice announced out of nowhere. âAm I allowed to hold my little guy now?â
âWeâre trying to have some girl talk, Nicky.â
âDonât mind me.â Sy crouched down to retrieve Christian from your arms and cradle him to his chest. âHey, baby boy. Uncle Nicky missed you.â
Alaynaâs question about having kids raced back to the forefront of your mind as you watched your boyfriend cuddle a baby half the size of his forearm with love bursting at the seams of his frame.
He was so careful and nurturing. He was so big and Christian was so small. The little boy probably felt so safe and cared for in such massive arms.
The longer you observed, the more you had to suppress a request to give you a baby of your own. If he was the father, youâd have as many as he wanted.
âYouâre so handsome,â he continued. âSuch a sweetheart. You get it from your mama, donât you?â
Alayna grinned. âStop.â
âCan I get in on girl talk now?â
âDidnât your mama ever teach you to stay outta womenâs business?â
âI figured if my boy Christian can be out here and listen in, so could I.â
âItâs nothing, baby,â you insisted.
âDidnât sound like nothing.â
âYou were supposed to be fixing the washing machine.â
âI was. It ainât take long.â
âJudy!â Alayna yelled towards the house. âCome get Nicky! Heâs being annoying!â
âWaterâs wet!â A male voice, presumably Dylan yelled back followed by, âWhat, Mama? He is!â
Sy rolled his eyes and smirked. âAlright, fine. You ainât gotta tell me nothing.â
âGood âcus we wasnât going to,â Alayna scoffed.
âI got ways of making this one talk.â Sy nodded to you and winking (itâs more of a blink â itâs one of the few things he canât do) on his way back inside the house. âCâmon yâall. Letâs eat.â
Every stereotype youâd ever heard about white people and their food didnât apply to Judy Syverson.
You werenât well versed on certain southern foods, but you were ready to get acquainted as soon as you entered the dining room and saw the spread sheâd prepared. You washed your hands in the kitchen sink and waited patiently by Syâs side as everyone found their respective seats at the vast dining room table.
Judy was parked at the head of the table like a queen would on her throne watching her loyal subjects get in line. On one side of the table, Alayna and Derek arranged Christian in his high chair, Dylan plopped at the opposite head, and Sy pulled out your seat next to him.
âBeen waiting on this all damn day,â Derek grunted, getting comfortable in his chair.
âWoulda been faster if you got your lazy ass in the kitchen and actually helped,â Dylan said, earning a middle finger for his troubles.
âYâall know heâs useless anywhere other than under the hood,â Sy added.
âIs it âPick On Ricky Dayâ or something in this bitch? I didnât see either of you cook anything either.â
âYâall are entirely too old to be fussing like this,â Judy mumbled and then gestured to you. âAnd in front of our guest.â
âSheâs practically family already at this point, Mama,â Derek continued. âLet her get used to it.â
âSo, we can scare her off?â Dylan chimed in.
âCan yâall be normal and just say grace so we can eat?â Sy groaned. âWeâre hungry, right?â
âAh, weâre embarrassing him in front of his girlfriend,â Alayna teased, practically singing the last word.
âShut up, Lay.â
âWhoâs gonna make me?â
âLord help me.â Judy looked towards the sky for a semblance of patience. âAre yâall done? Who wants to do prayer?â
âI will!â Derek announced, taking Alaynaâs hand in his and reaching over to grab his motherâs. âEverybody bow heads. Close your eyes.â
The six of you joined hands while Christian gurgled and made multiple attempts to escape the high chair now that his parents were distracted.
You bowed your head and closed your eyes, only half listening to Derekâs prayer. You were mostly distracted by the dish of candied yams in front of you wafting into your nose to truly pay attention.
In the midst of mentally preparing yourself for what youâre scooping into your plate first, a soft peck is planted on your cheek. Your eyes sprung open to catch Sy pulling back to look you over before kissing your face again.
âStop,â you mouthed but his lips descended behind your ear.
âYou okay?â he whispered.
âIâm fine.â
âYou sure?â
âI promise, baby.â
Sy nodded more to himself than you as a way to self soothe. âOkay,â he mouthed now and checked the table to assure the moment was private. Christianâs attention was focused on the food same as yours.
âAmen!â Derek exclaimed. âLetâs eat.â
âAmen,â the table repeated in unison.
You waited by as the Syverson filled their plates, passing dishes and condiments around with some good-natured fussing and teasing. You were content to sip on your iced tea as they did so to not disrupt their usual flow until Sy leaned in again to whisper in your ear.
âYou sure yer okay, baby girl?â
âYeah. I swear.â
âYou not hungry?â
âI am,â you said and scanned the table. âI didnât wanna be rude or anything. Donât really know where to⊠ya know. Yeah. â
âYer fine. You gotta be a ruthless asshole to get scraps around here anyway,â he mumbled, kissing your cheek again. âBut donât worry. Iâll make your plate. What do you want?â
âTheyâre cuddling at the table, Mama,â Derek announced, effectively cutting your requests short. âMake them stop.â
âWould it kill you to mind the business that pays you?â Sy asked, taking your plate and loading it up with everything in sight. âIf you wanna make her feel comfortable, try being normal and asking questions. Actually, no, donât ask her a thing.â
âTesty.â Dylan uttered into his macaroni and cheese.
âAnd whoâd you bring home?â Sy replied, handing you your heavy plate and then finishing his.
âBe nice,â Alayna said, scooping a puree of vegetables into Christianâs slobbering mouth. âYou know theyâre just being funny.â
âFunny, my ass.â
âDidnât I tell yâall to stop picking on him?â Judy wondered aloud.
âYouâre only being nice âcus he has a girlfriend now.â Dylan continued.
âSheâs being nice âcus heâs the favorite,â Derek corrected him.
âWrong. Both of you.â Judy pointed her fork at Alyna. âSheâs my favorite.â
âHa ha,â Alayna snorted.
âAnd by extension, Iâm your favorite, too, right?â Derek asked.
âThatâs not what she said,â Sy sneered.
âDonât mind them,â Judy told you quietly. âTheyâre only showing out âcus yer here.â
âTheyâre not usually like this?â
âOh, no, theyâre worse. This is them being nice.â
âIâm honored.â
Your head shot up at the sharp sound of your name from across the table.
âYou mind telling us what you see in Nicky?â Derek asked.
âShut up, Ricky,â Sy groaned. âAll you do is talk.â
âYou said I should ask questions to get to know her better, so âm asking!â
âYouâre gonna ruin her meal.â
âThe lady can speak for herself.â
âWhat was the question again?â you finally spoke up.
âI, as all of us are, was wondering what a nice girl like you sees in our darlinâ Nicky.â
Deep down, you knew Derek was just trying to be funny and goad his little brother. Youâre used to it from your own siblings.
Your presumptive quietness is clearly mistaken for sweetness.
âWell, heâs quiet for one,â you answered, instantly prompting an uproar so loud from the Syversons that you swear the wooden floor shook and the neighbors down the road would hear.
âGit his ass!â Dylan whooped triumphantly, clutching his chest and stomping his foot. Alayna and Judy hid their laughter behind their hands. Sy smirked to himself, staring his brother down from across the table in a not so subtle warning to leave you the hell alone.
The Syversons were anything but shy and you liked how nosey they were to a certain extent. For as much as Sy talked about you he skipped out on certain details, so their curiosity was at its highest point.
They asked you about where youâre from and oohâd and ahhâd when you said Philly, albeit an affluent neighborhood but Philly nonetheless. Their lack of outright judgment made you comfortable enough to dive into how the streets themselves raised you into the woman you are more than your own parents did. When they inquired about them, you told them your father was a prolific tech mogul and your mother was a former manager at a bank before your dadâs company took off and afforded her the stay at home mom lifestyle. She was home but itâd be a stretch to say she was a mother.
You left that bit out.
You told them about the university you go to, your sisters, and what you plan to do once you graduate. The plan itself was dead on arrival but they didnât need to know that.
After a long moment of talking, it started to feel like you were just conversing amongst friends instead of your boyfriendâs immediate family. Gone were your inhibitions and fear of saying the wrong thing and in its place a sense of belonging and warmth you hadnât truly experienced until meeting the man beside you.
There was still a fair load of food leftover by the time everyone finished eating and Judy insisted you take some home. Everyone else had the same idea and began packing up their own helpings as you transferred empty dishes to the kitchen.
âHoney, please,â Judy sighed, hurriedly taking the bowls out of your hands. âGive me that and go relax somewhere. Youâre our guest.â
âYeah, but you cooked so much andââ
â I woulda done that anyway and cleaned up all the same,â she said, flashing a cheeky grin. âBesides, I ainât have children for no reason.â
Before you could respond, Judy called out for her sons and they piled into the small kitchen with more empty dishes in hand.
âGone clean up and be quick about it so yâall can get some dessert,â she instructed sharply and the three of them got to work without another word. With your hand in one of hers and a pie pan in the other, Judy whisked you out of the kitchen.
You glanced back to find Sy already watching and silently asking âAre you okay?â with his eyes. You managed to get a quick nod in before Judy pulled you out of his field of vision into the dining room.
Dylan and Derek caught the tail end of the discreet exchange and met eyes behind Syâs back.
Oh, heâs for real, Derek said.
Weird, right? Dylan replied.
âSo, uh,â Derek started, flicking on the faucet and adjusting the water to lukewarm. âNicky.â
âHmm?â Sy grumbled, tying off a trash bag.
âYou and this girl,â Derek paused, assessing his baby brotherâs reaction before continuing. âItâs serious?â
âYeah,â he answered and then shot a look over at Derek. âHow dâya mean?â
âYou brought her home. Thatâs a big step.â
âSeemed about time.â
âWhatâs it been â about five or so months?â
âSomething close to it.â
âI like seeing you like this.â Dylan chimed in making room in the fridge for everyoneâs leftovers. âAll grumpy in love.â
âI ainât grumpy.â
âHe says grumpily.â
âJust seems a little early,â Derek continued. âTook at least nine months before I brought Lay around.â
âI mightâve done that too but yâall kept asking about meeting her.â
âOnly cus you wouldnât shut up about her and with all due respect, Nicky, I see why.â Dylan whistled. âTwo words: smoke show.â
âKeep your eyes to yourself.â
âAnd you said she pursued you?â Derek continued, pointing in the direction youâd gone with Judy and then back at Sy.
âThatâs not what I said,â he clarified, grabbing another garbage bag to line the can. âShe just approached me first. I did all the pursuing.â
âSo she wanted you first?â
âSorta?â Syâs eyebrow quirked at the logistics and mentally reviewed the extent of what he was going to tell his brothers before adding, âAfter that night Iâm sure she forgot I even existed and then when I saw her again I just went for it.â
âAnd that worked?â
Sy gestured outwardly as if to say you see it, donât you?
âGod, so you were just hung up on her until then, huh?â
That was putting it lightly. For a solid three weeks after New Yearâs, all he could ever think about was the ethereal beauty in a red dress with enticing eyes, glittering skin and megawatt smile behind strawberry flavored lips that bestowed his with a kiss so electrifying it left his entire body tingling.
Heâd wake up and you, your face, your everything were on his mind. As time passed, it felt more like a dream. Like youâd never even existed and Sy was so lonely, touch starved and deprived of affection that he imagined the interaction. Were you really there that night? Did you even exist or were you just the embodiment of every last one of Syâs desires? Had he seen you or were you a figment of his active imagination? Had his desire to be loved manifested so intensely to the point of hallucination? His senses were obstructed he saw what he wanted to see and his brain filled in all the other details like the cinnamon scent of your skin that night, the comfort in your deep voice, or how the curve of your body fit just right in his hands.
Because logically why would a fucking dime like you be in a place like that bar unless Sy conjured it up in a distracted daydream? Who would even believe such a story anyway? The woman of his dreams just so happened to kiss him at midnight and run off in the night like some Texan Cinderella? Yeah, right.
Unashamed, he did ask around about you and his delusions only deepened when no one knew who you were or who he was even talking about. So much for small town gossip. How many fucking models lived in Crowley? How was it that hard to find you again?
In between the doubts of sanity, he was nearly certain you were real. He had the proof in the sticky residue of your lipgloss, your perfume clinging to his shirt even from the brief moment you were pressed against him, and your name floating around in his head. Heâd only ever known of one person with that name, so itâs not like it was at the forefront of his psyche to assign to a random woman in a bar.
The faded memory of New Yearâs came back in full technicolor when he saw you again. You were real, you existed and you werenât a figment of Syâs imagination. Even without makeup and a red dress to enhance your already showstopping looks, you were the perfect image of everything Syâs ever wanted. Whoever he pictured when his brain conjured up the woman of his dreams was across the bar with a friend in jeans and a hoodie and heâd be damned if he didnât seize the moment.
Talking to you was as easy as breathing. Albeit nervous in your presence, it all felt so natural. His pretty mystery possessed as much personality as you did beauty and judging by your school sweatshirt, intelligence and brains.
And you actually seemed into him enough to stick around and get annoyed at having to leave. Heâs ultimately grateful the bartender whoâs known Sy and his family since forever, Mr. Gill witnessed the exchange and convinced him to stop being a pussy and actually swap numbers before you left.
He was forever grateful he listened.
And by the grace of a god Sy swore abandoned him a long time ago, here you were meeting his family for their weekly Sunday dinners.
âUh, yeah,â Sy mumbled. âPretty much.â
âThe Nicky I know wouldâve forgotten about her after about five minutes and if he was truly that hung up on it, heâd parked his pole for the night in some cocktail waitress who didnât know any better,â Derek chuckled lightheartedly, pouring soap atop the mountain of dishes. âBut I get it. Sheâs a stunner and Iâm sure yer making up for lost time now. Itâs probably worth it, huh? â
Sy placed the lid back on the can and pauses, assessing his brotherâs statement.
âWhat dâya mean?â
âLike all the time you spent searching for her with the glass slipper,â he answered, shrugging nonchalantly and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. âYou can keep her up after midnight now.â
âThe hellâre you talking about?â
Derek leveled his brother with an unimpressed stare. âNick.â
âHeâs talking about fucking,â Dylan interjected and skillfully dodged out of the way when Derek launched a sudsy plastic bowl in his direction.
âI was trying to be tact, you jackass.â
âOh, when have you ever?â Dylan tossed the bowl back in the sink, splashing the front of Derekâs shirt. âYâknow Nickyâs slow. Sensitive and slow like a turtle with sunburn.â
âWhich is why I tried to be polite.â
âIâm still here,â Sy grumbled .
âIf I were you, Iâd punch his lights out for talking about yer woman like that,â Dylan teased, shutting the fridge and leaning against it. âDamn near telling all yer business.â
âYou instigating lilâ shit, he knows I ainât mean nothing by it.â Derek reached over to playfully slap Sy on the shoulder. âRight?â
âI know.â Sy shrugged now too and then mumbling âNot that thereâs anything to tell,â under his breath.
Heâd be a fool to think his brothers wouldnât catch that.
âWhat?â Derek barked, turning the faucet off.
âWhat?â
âWhatâd you just say?â
âUh, nothing.â
âYou lying sack of cow shit, yes, you did.â
âI didnât.â
âYou think we deaf?â Dylan bristled.
âCan we let it go?â Sy asked and his attempt to exit the kitchen is thwarted by his brothers blocking the entryway and staring at him with matching smirks of mischief.
âI really donât wanna have to turn Mamaâs kitchen upside down âcus yâall are being assholes.â
âOh, that wonât be necessary, soldier boy,â Dylan practically sang, clapping a rough hand against Syâs back and guiding him to a seat at the kitchen table. âWeâre gonna use our words.â
âI really donât wanna talk about this with yâall,â Sy insisted, sitting all the while.
âWeâre only your brothers,â Derek said, pulling up a seat across from Sy and folding his arms. âWe know itâs something, so you might as well tell us.â
âItâs not a big deal.â
âSeeing as though it probably involves that girl there in the living room with Mama and youâre acting weirder than a pig at a pork nâ beans dinner, Iâd say it is.â
âItâsââ Sy started, searching for the word in the sunflower wallpaper p of his Mamaâs kitchen ceiling. âSo damn dumb.â
âTell us and weâll see for ourselves.â
Sy exhaled a heavy sigh, looking back to his brothers with a compunctious sag in his body language and a far off gleam in his eyes.
âWe havenât⊠she and I havenât doneâŠthat,â he confessed meekly.
Derek and Dylan exchanged another secret look.
âDone what?â the younger brother asked.
Sy awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, meeting neither of their expectant gazes. âHad sex.â
Their expressions shifted to ones of rightful confusion and Sy blatantly ignored them in favor of watching his hands cupped on the table.
âOh,â Derek said first, trying his damndest to keep any and all smart comments in upon assessing how bothered Sy was.
âThis is stupid,â Sy grumbled and rose to his feet to escape the stretched silence. Dylan caught his arm and yanked him back down with much needed force.
âQuit with the dramatics, Nicky. Just sit and talk to us,â he grunted.
âI donât got noneâ to say!â
âClearly, someâs eating at you.â
âI just feel a little silly is all.â
âSilly becauseâŠ?â
âThis shouldnât even be an issue but âm making it one.â
âWell, dâya want toâŠ?â Derek asked cautiously, prepping himself for an incredulous answer and sighing in relief when Sy blinked at him like an idiot for assuming otherwise.
âOf course I do,â he answered, shaking his head. âItâs not that I donât. I mean who wouldnât?â
âYer a better man than me, Iâll tell you that,â Dylan muttered, earning a pointed glare from the oldest Syverson boy.
âDoes she not want to? Is that why?â
âShe does,â Sy told them, scoffing in disgust at himself and then lowering his voice. âShe gives hints and all. Itâs me thatâs the problem.â
âBut you want to.â
âAll the fucking time.â
âBut you havenât.â
âNo.â
âBecause youâreâŠ?â Dylan prompted.
Sy knew the exact word, but saying it aloud meant coming to terms with a lot of internal turmoil he hadnât planned to address today of all days. Itâs something he hadnât even expressed to you yet and he pretty much told you everything.
But these were his brothers and best friends. They ultimately may not understand the complexities of sexual trauma heâd endured since becoming active when he was barely a teenager that resulted in his fear of intimacy and connecting to sexual partners, but theyâd still listen and reserve judgement.
âIâm scared,â Sy admitted.
âOf?â Derek asked.
âDonât make fun.â
âWe wonât,â Dylan promised.
Sy exhaled, avoiding their looks yet again because tears might spring to his eyes if he actually let someone see his soul so bare.
âIâm scared because I love her without having touched her like that and I know Iâm gonna get very weird about her once I do and sheâll see a side of me she wonât like,â he said with all the certainty of science. âIâm scared Iâm not gonna ever be ready to take on that kinda emotional toll and Iâm gonna disappoint her when we do.â
âLove?â Derek and Dylan repeated simultaneously, their expressions ranging from confusion to disbelief.
Sy blinked back at them. âYeahâŠ?â
âOkay, hold on,â Derek continued, waving a hand forward as if to wipe the slate on the conversation. âWeâre gonna get to the other stuff in a second, but letâs wrangle it in, Nick. You said you love her.â
âIâm not speaking English?â
âThatâs a big damn step to take.â
âItâs the truth. Itâs what I feel.â
âYeah, we know you feel enough for all of us,â Derek uttered, shaking his head. âItâs only been a few months and you think you love her?â
âThatâs all the time I needed to know I do.â
âYâcanât be serious.â
âWhy not?â
âHow well dâya even know her to be saying you love her?â
âWell enough.â
Derek folded his arms over his chest and sighed loudly. âBe serious with me now, boy,â he said and the echoes of their father bounced off the walls with every word. âYer telling us that after five months of courting, you love this girl?â
âIf you ask me this again, Iâm gonna make your head do a jumping jack.â
âItâs a valid question, Nicky,â Dylan joined in, rolling his eyes to the side. âThatâs damn crazy.â
âNot really.â
âHow dâya even know for sure and youâre not on a rebound or someâ?â
âFrom who?â
Syâs brothers didnât outright answer but instead let the silence fill in the blanks. Syâs face scrunched in disgust at the implication and he immediately shook his head.
âJesus, from Mallory? Can yâall be serious?â
âIt wasnât that long ago yâall broke up.â
âItâs been a year and a half since Iâve even thought about her, let any other woman,â Sy explained. âFor Christâs sake, I havenât fucked anyone either.â
Both men regarded him with suspicion.
âYou havenât fucked anyone since you been home?â Derek inquired in hushed tones.
âNo.â
âAlicia?â
âNo.â
âTatiana?â
âNo.â
âAmerie?â
âNo.â
Dylan squinted at him. âVivica?â
âHell no.â
The brothers exchanged another look.
âSo, itâs really just beenââ Derek started.
âYes,â Sy answered enthusiastically. âI donât got no interest in anyone else but that was probably gonna be the case anyway. But now? I really donât want anyone else but her.â
âCan I be crude?â Dylan asked, lifting a finger in question. âHow do you even know that youâre actually head over heels if youâve never had sex? Itâs not everything but itâs a huge factor in deciding that kinda thing, ainât it?â
âOr,â Derek jumped in. âIf youâre not on a rebound, how do you know itâs not âcus sheâs just new? Are you really feeling what you feel âcus itâs real or because you havenât experienced her before the way you have everyone else? What if when you do what you gotta do, the thrill wears off? Will you still love her then or will she turn into Tatiana or Vivica?â
The framing of that question stung something deeply sensitive within Sy. He was more than aware of his past and he wasnât happy with it. The fact that his brothers were too seemed to worsen the stinging sensation, leaving him tenser than necessary in his seat. They knew of the Sy that would fuck any woman that looked at him too long â whether she was single, taken, married, young, older. Clearly, he wasnât strict.
That version of Sy was unimaginably unhappy and searching for a semblance of love in whoever was willing to give it for the night. That Sy would be so envious of the one in Judyâs kitchen right now.
âItâs not that I love her âcus we havenât done that yet,â Sy said. âItâs the fact that we never had to and probably wonât ever have to for me to wanna spend the rest of my life with her.â
âJesus,â Dylan exhales a long breath. âYer talking crazy.â
âLook, I know yâall donât get it but I donât wanna complicate what weâve got if weâre doing fine without it. Do I wanna get my shit together and do it like any normal couple would? Yes. Fuckinâ yes. But Iâm not at a point where I can be with her that way withoutââ
Sy stopped himself, turning his head away from his brothers and further avoiding their attentive stares.
He knew what he was saying but articulating it resembled glass getting caught in his throat.
He was not going to sit here and tell his brothers that heâs mentally unfit for the sexual aspects of a relationship because of the ghosts of his past still haunting him whenever he kissed you for too long.
He couldnât so much as imagine you naked without guilt weighing his shoulders down. He still did it, jerked off all the same, and came with your name on his tongue, but he was truly disgusted with himself in the aftermath. What if you thought he was gross for doing that or wanted nothing to do with him when you found out your sleepy voice over the phone late at night was the aid in many an orgasm? He reverted back to a damn teenager the way a simple look, innocent touch or kiss flustered him and left his dick at attention.
Hiding how big of a pervert he was for you was quickly proving to be impossible the more your relationship flourished.
They werenât going to understand that he equated sex with abandonment or how he gets so lost in his own pleasure sometimes that an inner demon came to the forefront and turned him into a mess of a man with no emotional regulation.
Would they get it if he told them he was prone to getting so overstimulated with endorphins to the point of crying and losing his head in the middle of the act? Or that he's rarely ever had a partner who can bring him back down to earth without judgment?
And the mere thought of you, the most perfect woman heâs ever met, witnessing him break down like that scared the absolute shit out of him.
âWithout whatâŠ?â Dylan asked.
âDonât worry about it.â
âThe fuckâre you talking about donât worry about it when weâreââ Dylan replied but was swiftly cut off by Derek barking out his name.
âRelax,â he warned. âNickyâs said all he will say and we can just leave it at that without pushing.â
âHeâs not making any sense.â
âIâm not asking yâall to make sense of it,â Sy said, rolling his eyes.
âAt least make sense to yourself then.â Dylan grimaced. âYou say youâre in love after less than six months and youâre not on rebound from Mallory, who youâve been with for ten years. Fine. Sounds perfectly normal to me.â
âSometimes it just happens that way. Quit being a horseâs ass,â Derek mumbled.
âIâm not! Iâm saying what yer thinking too.â
âThis has nothing to do with Mallory,â Sy told them. At least not directly anyway. âDonât even put them in the same category.â
âKinda hard not to when you had this same speech when you started dating her, too.â
âI was fifteen!â Sy exclaimed. âDonât you think Iâd be a little smarter and know what âm talking about this time?â
âYou said you loved Alicia too and she ainât been around either.â
âThose girls arenât her.â
âKnowing how you work, she might end up being them.â
âDyl, shut up!â Derek shouted and placed a hand on Syâs chest when he hopped out of his seat to pop Dylan into next Sunday. âAnd you, sit down. Heâs just trying to push your buttons.â
Both men do as their eldest brother told them, grumbling about the other under their breaths with their arms folded. Derek scoffed and shook his head at the two of them.
âYouâre grown men,â he reminded them to which Sy pointed an accusing finger at Dylan.
âThat little bitch started it!â
Dylan grinned mirthlessly. âYou donât wanna know whoâs a little bitch between the two of us.â
âStop it. Jesus H. Christ, I get less from Christian,â Derek groaned, turning to Dylan first. âI suggest you be nice âcus next time he gets up Iâm not gonâ stop him from putting a hurtinâ on ya.â
He redirected himself to Sy. âAnd Nicky, listen. Even if we donât really get what you mean about you and her, we support you a hundred percent. Donât we?â
The smart retort resting on the tip of Dylanâs tongue washed down with a gulp when Derek glared at him.
âYeah, we do,â he uttered. âWe just donât wanna see you hurt again, Nick. Thatâs all.â
âSee!â Derekâs gaze softened when he regarded Sy. âHeâs an asshole but he cares. And you shouldnât take anything a twenty-three year old who ainât never had a girlfriend tell you nothing about how you should handle yers.â
Dylan wasted no time tossing a random utensil from the sink at Derek, lip poked out in defiance. âI have had a girlfriend, asshole!â
âKissing booth at the county fair donât count, peewee!â Derek shot back with a delighted chuckle as he launched the wet serving spatula right back and popped Dylan directly in the stomach. Before Sy could stop it, they began tussling and causing a ruckus as they always did, leaving him to watch and laugh.
âStop all that hassling and wrassling in my house!â Judyâs voice projected from the other room and it did absolutely nothing to stop the two men from rolling around on the kitchen floor in a discombobulated pile. Sy rose to his feet, shaking his head in disappointment that Derek let Dylan get him in a chokehold that quick.
With Christian propped on her hip and Alayna following close behind, Judy zipped passed Sy to behold her oldest and youngest son.
âNo hometraining,â she grumbled, shuffling her way over them to turn on the faucet and direct the hose attached to the sink on the two of them. The men disconnected with shouts of protest and the last thing Sy heard before fully exiting the kitchen was Judy threatening to take her belt off for acting an ass with a guest one room over.
Speaking ofâŠ
Sy found you in the living room with the family photo album open to a page of his baby pictures, eyes wide with concern at the commotion.
âIs everythingâ?â you started to ask, but Sy waved it off and joined you on the coach.
âPay them no mind,â he insisted, kissing your forehead. âMama showing you the album?â
âYeah.â You caressed a finger over a photo of him that Sy distinctly remembered from his first day of middle school. âLook at how cute you were.â
Sy analyzed the husky kid with rosy cheeks, bright eyes and unruly curls. Those jeans were so baggy itâs a wonder he didnât trip in them. He didnât have a care in the world.
âCute, huh?â
âMhm,â you hummed, smiling down at the child he used to be. âMy little fat boy.â
Sy snorted. âI think I was eleven or twelve.â
âYou donât look anything like that anymore.â
âThank god.â
You glanced over at him. âI mean, heâs still in there somewhere, ainât he?â
âLife mightâve broke him down, if âm honest, shug.â
You pondered that for a brief minute and before you could ask him to elaborate, Judyâs voice broke through again.
âUgh, god,â Sy groaned, rubbing his temples and then standing to his feet with his hand out. âAlright. Weâve had enough for a Sunday, huh? Letâs go.â
You shut the album and he assisted you off the couch. With a vice grip on your hand, he led you to the kitchen where the floor, Dylan and Derek were soaked and pleading their cases, Judy was pissed and cussing them to high heaven and Alayna watched on in amusement with Christian in her arms.
âItâs his fault! He started it, Mama!â Dylan accused, pointing to Sy as soon as he came into view. âGit him, too!â
âDonât put me in yâallâs bullshit,â Sy snickered, one hand up in mock defense. âWeâre just coming to get our leftovers and dessert and we gotta be outta here.â
âYou think youâre too good to stay for dessert?â Derek asked.
âUnlike some of yâall, we actually have places to be on a Monday morning.â
Judy shook her head and directed a finger of disapproval at all three of her sons. âYou jackals ainât getting dessert,â she announced with thin lips.
âI ainât even do nothing!â Sy exclaimed childishly. âThey was the ones fighting! Why Iâm getting punished, too?â
âFor whining!â Judy told him with finality and pointed that same finger at you and Alayna. âThe girls can have dessert. The rest of yâall finish cleaning my kitchen and then itâs bedtime.â
âBedtime? Yer not serious, Mama,â Dylan whined and cut eyes over at his brothers. âSee this is all yâallâs fault.â
-
Despite the fact that Sy, Derek and Dylan were grown men with their own jobs, apartments, a kid and a litany of bills, they did as Judy said and cleaned the kitchen and dining room.
Strict program aside, you snuck away with your slice of apple pie and vanilla ice cream and scooped a spoonful into Syâs mouth when his brothers werenât looking.
-
Bedtime ended up being ten oâclock and Judy was still pretty upset with the display her sons put on in your presence. Even if you insisted it was fine, she continued reprimanding them for the rest of the night.
Just when Sy thought he was going to get some reprieve and leave, Judy stopped him in his tracks on the way to the door.
âYer gonna drive this late?â she wondered aloud, eyeing you carefully and then her son as though he was crazy for even thinking about taking you out on the roads at such a time. âDoesnât seem that safe, does it?â
âWeâll be fine. Itâs only ten.â
âItâs dark,â she reminded him. âIâd feel better if the two of yâall stayed here and left tomorrow morning.â
âMa, sheâs got class early in the morning.â
âDarlinâ, you donât mind, dâya?â Judy peeked around Sy, smiling sweetly at you. âFor my peace of mind, Iâd really prefer if you stayed here and you can leave as soon as the rooster sings.â
âOh, uh, no, I donât mind,â you said and Sy groaned down at his mother.
âSheâs saying that to be nice, Mama. I think weâve shown enough of the Syverson charm for a day and we really do gotta go.â
Judy squinted up at him in challenge when she took your hand from his and made her way towards the stairs. âCâmon, girl,â she said. âYou can sleep in Nickyâs old room. Itâs just as I left it.â
Annoyed beyond all reasoning and defeated, Sy followed and only reached the second step before Judy whipped around with a stern expression.
âAnd whereâre you going?â she snapped.
âYou said weâre going to bed!â
âYou are sleeping on the couch.â
âMa, Iâm twenty-six and yer not gonna let me at least sleep in the same bed as my girl?â
âUnder my roof? Youâve been in the sandbox too long.â Judy said, effectively ending the interaction and heading the rest of the way upstairs. âOnce I get her settled you can say goodnight and I better see you on that couch.â
After giving you a spare toothbrush, a set of Syâs old clothes to change into, and a silk scarf to wrap your hair, Judy allowed Sy to say goodnight.
âYou know Iâll be just downstairs if you need me,â he whispered against your cheek before kissing your skin and encasing you in his embrace. âOkay?â
âOkay, D,â you giggled, playfully pushing him away when you caught Judy strolling by the open bedroom door. âI know. Iâll be fine.â
âYou sure? âCus you say the word and weâre outta here and we can go back to my place.â
While that does sound fun and ideal, you truly didnât mind. You gestured to the cramped space with a teasing smirk.
âYour place over this? Be serious.â
âYeah, okay, funny girl,â he murmurs, kissing you again. âGoodnight.â
âGoodnight, baby.â
Sy lingered for a second, refusing to undo his fingers from around yours even when the presence of his mother loomed just outside in the hallway. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but just settled for another kiss and backing away towards the door.
âLike I said, shug,â he went on. âRight downstairs.â
And with that, Judy tucked you in and assured you had everything you needed before checking on her other children and retiring to bed herself. The once rambunctious Syverson home was hushed to a creaky silence now that its occupants were settled in for bed.
You surveyed the room and pictured the teenage Sy from the family album inhabiting it. Judy mustâve kept it as is when Sy left considering the worn Janet Jackson poster above the bed, the He-Man and Wolverine figurines gracing the window seal, and a box crate of porn magazines hidden poorly under the bed.
Your curiosity was piqued by that last artifact but instead of exploring further, you laughed to yourself and laid back down in his twin bed. The mattress was thin and the box springs were subtly poking their way through, but it was weirdly comfortable. To lay where the man you might be in love with laid before he was that man was more wholesome than you initially thought; it felt like a big hug.
Synopsis: Allie Hilton is on the run. For the first time in her privileged life, she can only rely on her own wits to escape a life she was destined for, but also one that she never wanted. What happens when Allie flees as far as she can before running into a small town that just happened to be governed by a large male motorcycle fleet? Well Allie, meet the War Horse Rebellion. Put on your riding boots, it's going to be a rough ride.
Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Allison âAllieâ HiltonÂ
I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.Â
This story is not betaâd. All mistakes are my own.
A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!
Chapter 19
Allieâs POV:Â
We spend a blissful afternoon together, and I feel certain that things are on the right track with Austin and I once again so I allow myself to fully relax into his presence. We eventually get ourselves dressed up and head to the bar where all of the Rebels who are stateside are in attendance, with their wives and girlfriends. Corralled in the Rebelâs section of the bar, we are all having an amazing time laughing and catching up. Eliza and Bananas are extra lovey with each other and it makes me so happy for them. I really like Bananas, and Eliza has turned into one of my closest confidants. Iâve known her for such a short time, but feel closer to her than I ever felt with any of the frenemies back in Charlotte.
After about an hour, we are all interrupted from our conversations when Bananas taps on his whiskey glass and says, âI need your attention!â Thinking he was drunk or something, we all share a good-natured chuckle before obliging.Â
âLiza, baby, I need to tell you something.â Rolling her eyes at his dramatic playfulness, she turns from where she was talking to me and answers him.Â
âLet me guess, you want to ask for something too inappropriate to speak of in mixed company?â She smarts as she steps toward his extended hand and places her dainty palm in his.
âOnly if you consider this inappropriate?â From his pocket, Bananas reveals a red ring box and immediately drops to one knee. Eliza gasps in surprise at his actions and honestly, so do I. Not from the proposal but from seeing a serious expression wash over Bananas features. Heâs always playful and jovial, yet now he looks like a nervous kid.
âBaby girl, you know Iâm downright obsessed with you and Iâm so grateful that you put up with me. Youâre my best friend and I wanna lock you down for the rest of your life, because one day my good looks might fade and with this ring, youâll have to stay with me anyway. So, will you marry me?â He asks with a chuckle at the comment about his good looks. Eliza uncharacteristically has silent tears staining the cheeks of her flawless makeup as she stares down at the man before her with so much love.Â
âAre you fucking kidding me? YES!â She whispers through tears and before even sliding the ring on her, Bananas jumps up, yelling triumphantly, picking up Eliza and spinning her in circles. When he places her back on her heels, he kisses her passionately and all of the whoops and hollers from the crowd of both rebels and bar attendees are deafening. When they finally break for air, he removes the beautiful diamond ring from the box before placing it at her fingertips and sliding it onto her third finger.Â
âI wanted to make the diamond banana shaped but Sy said youâd kill me. He said I better go with square, or round to keep you from saying no.â He announces proudly and I glance to Syverson whoâs wearing a shit eating smirk.Â
âThank God, Sy. Someone needs to reel him in.â Eliza giggles as she addresses my boyfriend and her proverbial big brother figure.
âYou got a whole lifetime of keeping him in check now, I reckon.â Sy chuckles before raising a whiskey glass to the couple. The other Rebels all quickly join in and wait for Sy to speak. To my surprise, my typically quiet boyfriend stands proudly as he calmly addresses the entire bar with authority.
âBananas and Eliza are the epitome of true love, loyalty, and the existence of soulmates. We all wish you a long and happy marriage. Cheers!âÂ
Everyone clinks their glasses together and throws back their drinks as Bananas bends over and dips Eliza into an extravagant kiss. Wiping the happy tear from my cheek, Eliza turns to me and excitedly shows me the gorgeous cushion cut ring on a white gold band. Itâs classy and beautiful and set perfectly on her petite hand with bright red manicured nails.
Congratulating her and complimenting the ring, we hug tightly and then I hug Bananas whose energy is palpable as his adrenaline pumps through him. Eliza hugs Syverson and thanks him for his proposal input, before they make their rounds to celebrate with the others. Smiling at the happy couple, I turn to Sy who was already watching me.
âHow long have you known?â I ask.
âHeâs been planning for a while, but didnât get the ring until about two weeks ago. That was one of the reasons that I was late getting home last week. Eliza was cleaning the house and he was worried sheâd find it. He needed me to keep the ring and help plan. You know heâs chaotic and not logistically minded. Plus, he's shit at keeping secrets.â He replies with a smirk.Â
âYou had the ring? Where?â I ask inquisitively.
âIâm not revealing my hiding place.â He squints at me and I roll my eyes playfully.
âIâm so happy for them.â I smile once again as I watch the couple beaming with joy behind us.Â
âThat somethinâ youâd want to do one day? Get married? Or did your last experience put ya off of that forever?â Austin asks me over the rim of his glass of whiskey and my heart jumps.
âIf it was my choice, and with the person I loved, then Iâd absolutely want to get married. But I donât think Iâd want some sort of spectacle. Iâve been forced into being the center of attention my whole life, so that doesnât interest me much.â I smile sadly. Syverson just nods before taking another sip of his whiskey.
âWhat about you?â
âNever thought I was the marriage type to be honest. Seemed like more work than it was worth, but Iâm coming around to the idea. Maybe one day.â He says and I feel a pang of disappointment that he didnât seem fully persuaded but I just nod and pick up my drink and toss it back with a bit more enthusiasm than normal.
After several more rounds of drinks, and hours of laughter, the newly engaged couple took their leave to celebrate on their own. After they left, Sy had informed me that Bananas had transformed their house today while she was working. Several dozen rose pedals and flameless candles covered their home so that he could add the romance part of the night for just them to share. Sy had provided a nice bottle of champagne for the couple and promised to make it clear that they are not to be bothered the rest of the weekend. That was a necessary warning mainly for Dalton and Jared who were notorious for showing up at random times when they got bored.Â
I was loving every moment of this tension free time with Sy. It was like the beginning of our relationship again. Tipsy, I was perched in Syversonâs lap with his arm tightly wound around my waist. I could feel him twitch and harden under me as I covertly wiggled every once in a while, like it was accidental. Subtly reaching for my drink so that Iâd have to bend over with my ass on him, or twisting to the side to whisper something in his ear where my breasts were at eye level for him. Smiling at a story that Luis was telling, I unconsciously shiver when Syâs beard brushes against my neck just below my ear.Â
âBout ready to head on home?â He asked in that deep timber that makes me wet with anticipation. Turning toward him, I looked deep into his eyes and nodded slowly. I watched Syversonâs eyes jump from mine to my lips before returning to my gaze as his eyes darkened.
Oh yes! Things really are getting back to normal!  I thought to myself as the eagerness rushed through my body.Â
Playfully, I lean over once more to place my drink back on the table and feel his palm clench against my hip, pressing himself as tightly to my ass as possible and grinding just subtly that nobody would notice. Standing, I turn and look down at him still seated. His thick legs still parted with a burgeoning bulge at the apex, tight t-shirt covering his flat torso with the sleeves straining under the extent of his biceps. That mischievous eyebrow arch made it clear that he knew what game I had been playing all evening with him, and he seemingly was enjoying it. Biting my bottom lip in that way that I know he loves, I step closer in between his legs and bend to reach for my bag on the back of the seat behind him. Syverson steadies me with his hands on my hips and I watch his eyes as he looks at mine before dragging them shamelessly down to my ample cleavage. Sy obviously doesnât care that weâre in public as he stares at my breasts like a teenage boy discovering his first nude magazine, and Iâve never felt more powerful and sexy in my life. Allowing him a good look while I flip my hair over my shoulder, I slowly adjust my top and stand up straight while returning to my innocent act.Â
âReady baby?â I whisper. Lowly, I hear a growl under his breath as he mutters something that I canât make out due to the noise in the bar. Quick as a flash, he swats one palm on my ass cheek causing me to softly squeal at the abruptness. Standing, Sy discreetly adjusts himself in his denim behind my frame before speaking.Â
âWeâre heading out.â He announces, followed by boos from mainly Jared and Dalton.
âOh câmon Sy! Itâs a night to celebrate!â Dalton announces drunkenly.Â
âIâll be celebrating, donât ya worry.â Sy says arrogantly and that gets the drunk guys hooting and hollering once more as my blush reddens my cheeks. Mikeâs behind the bar tonight and we stop by to say our goodbyes while Syverson ensures that Mike will oversee the drunkards making their way home.
âYâall good? Iron everything out?â Mike asks Sy who wraps my hand tighter in his and nods.
âYeah, thanks man. I appreciate it.â Sy responds and I smile gratefully.
âHowâs your back and ass from those big scary porch stairs?â Mike goads. Syverson rolls his eyes and flips him off as he leads us to the exit while Mike cackles exuberantly in the background at his own joke.Â
Drinking in the gentle breeze and calmness as soon as we exit the building, we silently make our way to Austinâs motorcycle. Placing a sweet kiss to my lips, we secure our helmets and are bolting through the night as the streetlights blur and stretch in the background. Once home, I struggle slightly walking from the garage across the gravel driveway as Iâm a bit tipsy and wearing some tall heels that Eliza had ordered for me at her boutique. It was fun getting to experiment with my wardrobe in a way that I have never been able to before.
Sy quickly offers his arm and before I can protest, he whips his other arm behind me and carries me up the stairs to the door. I giggle freely at the spontaneity and playfulness that Iâve missed sharing with him. Refusing to put me down, Syverson impressively unlocks the front door while holding me and carries me as he while kicks off his boots, tosses his keys on the bookshelf, and locks the door; only stopping to place me on the kitchen counter once he was done.Â
âThese shoes are somethinâ else, Sugar, but I know your dogs must be barkinâ.â He implies that my feet must be sore and sweetly unclasps and removes my stilettos and places them on the floor. Reaching toward the cabinet, he fills a cup with ice water and hands it to me encouraging me to drink it as he rubs my sore feet. His big hands are incredibly nimble as he kneads my feet and I moan somewhat sexually as he hits a good part.
âNow, Sugar, you canât be making noises like that if you just want me to rub your feet.â
âWhat if I want you to do something else?â I flirt and he smirks.
âAnd what might that be?â The alcohol still remaining in my system allows me to bypass any shyness about asking for what I want.Â
âI want you to rip my clothes off, bend me over this counter, and fuck me so hard that I canât walk after.â I bravely request.
Pausing momentarily, Austin smiles and replies with a gentle and loving caress to my cheek.
âHow about we go upstairs and Iâll make love to you.â
My liquid inhibitions cause me to break eye contact and groan which causes Syverson to pause with pure offense.
âNow what did I say to cause that reaction?â He asks.
âAustin, I donât know why youâre treating me like Iâm made of glass. Ever since I was in the hospital, itâs like youâre scared to touch me!â I almost yell at him out of frustration.
âThat ainât true! Iâm always touching you.â He defends and I roll my eyes uncharacteristically at him and cross my arms like a petulant child as my legs hang off of the counter.
âAre you unhappy with our sex life?â He asks with a bit of hurt slipping through his controlled mask.
âNo..well, not really. I just feel like youâre scared to touch me or like something is off. Donât get me wrong, I love when youâre slow and intimate and meaningful, but lately Iâve been missing the Syverson that spontaneously grabs me and is a bit rough with me. Itâs kind of a turn on when you toss me around.â I admit the last part quietly.
âI.. Sugar, I just donât want to be like the people who have hurt you before. I donât want to be rough with ya and accidentally hurt you. I couldnât bare to see the bruises I left on you after theâŠaccident.âÂ
âYou never had a problem with it before.â I retort and am speechless at Syâs response.
âThat was before I knew what it was like to see you actually hurt. I watched you die, Allie! Damnit! I still watch you die every night while youâre asleep in my arms! I canât ever stop it in my dreams so excuse me for trying to be delicate with you now that I see how fragile you are!â He screams as he stares at the floor.
My eyes well with tears as I hear the hurt and worry in his voice.Â
âYouâŠ. Youâve been dreaming of me dead?â I ask quiet as a mouse, but Sy doesn't respond.
"Talk to me." I plead.
âI canât ever get there in time to stop him. Itâs like Iâm running in slow motion and when I get there itâs too late.â Sy still refuses to make eye contact with me.
Pulling his arm thatâs closest to me, I attempt to pull him towards me. He barely budges initially, but then gives in and walks toward me, resting his head on my shoulder so that I still canât see his eyes.Â
âBaby, you did save me. All of that is just a terrible nightmare and I wish you wouldâve told me so that I could be there for you. Iâm so sorry.â I allow an errant tear to stream down my face at the thought of Syverson struggling silently.
âLook at me, please.â I beg as I place my palms on each side of his scruff.Â
âI love you and Iâm here and you did save me. You would never hurt me or let me get hurt. I know that. Do you?â
Austinâs eyes are red rimmed as though they are physically fighting off the tears that threaten to breach his eyelids as he nods.
âSay it.â I demand.
âIâll never let anything happen to you.â He says.
âAndâŠâ I prompt.
âAnd I did save you in time. I wonât hurt you.â
âOne more thingâŠâ I smirk and he actively thinks about what more I could be waiting for. Leaning in his ear, I whisper, âYou love me.âÂ
Smiling he nods and says, âI love ya, Sugar.â Deciding to just let my previous frustration go now that I know the reason behind it, I grab his cheeks once more and speak.
âJust know that Iâm not as delicate as you think I am, okay?â I say and kiss him cutely on the nose. He nods and then smirks when I jump off of the counter grabbing my heels.
âHead on upstairs and Iâll lock up.â He tells me and I nod.
Making my way into our bathroom, I decide to hop in the shower. Letting the water warm, I shed my clothes messily in the floor and step under the spray. Iâm reaching for the body wash when I feel Austin enter the shower behind me, but Iâm not at all expecting his next actions.
A sharp but painless tug to the back of my soaked hair has me startling with a gasp. Turning quickly, I see the most mischievous look in Austinâs eye before he smashes my face to his in a heated and overwhelming kiss. Our tongues fight for control and I quickly concede, allowing him to maneuver my head where he wants it in order to deepen the kiss. My wet body is pressed tightly to his damp skin, where his massive erection presses against my stomach due to our height difference. Syversonâs large palms are on either side of my face as he dominates the kisses that feel downright sinful in the best way. Pulling back for air my eyes search his and he presses a kiss to my forehead before speaking.
âYou wanna be tossed around? Wanna be fucked rough and spontaneously?â His voice is so deep itâs like gravel as I melt around his words and nod eagerly.
âCan I trust your gonna tell me if you donât like somethinâ or if itâs too much?â
âOf course, baby. I know you wonât ever hurt me.â I say with confidence emanating from my voice in hopes that he will feel the pure trust that I have in him.
âPromise?â He grunts as if heâs physically holding himself back.
âI swear.â I mutter and before I can even take a breath, Sy has pushed me against the freezing tile wall and consumed every each of my body with his pressed tightly against it. I chirp in his mouth from the shock of the cold, but also from the anticipation thatâs writhing through me. Syâs right hand slides up my body and grabs the back of my neck under my drenched hair while the left hand harshly kneads my breasts as he ruts his erection against me. I moan into the kiss when his hand leaves my breast and trails down to my soaking wet pussy. He takes his time as he enjoys feeling my body, and presses against my clit just enough for me to squirm before backing off and sliding first one thick finger before the other into my clenching cunt. My leg wraps around the back of his at the intrusion and he begins pumping them in and out while pressing against my sensitive button at different intervals. I feel him scissoring his digits to gently stretch me before sliding in a third and I canât help the pitiful mewl that escapes me. Embarrassingly, I come so quickly that I donât even have time to warn him, but he mustâve known due to him whispering âthatâs right, sugar. Lemmeâ have it-â in my ear just moments prior. My head falls back against the tile as the euphoria of my climax pours through me and Syverson quickly rakes his scruffy beard across my sensitive neck, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake as he works me through it.
Slowly removing his fingers, I open my eyes to see him towering above me with hunger in his eyes. Reaching down, now that I have feeling in my limbs once more, I reach for his cock and wrap my fist around it, stroking him gently. He allows me to palm him for no more than a few moments before he single-handedly turns my body and presses me against the cold glass on the other side of the shower. The hot water is now beating down my back as my breasts are flush against the clear divider and Sy wipes away the condensation at my face.
âWant you to look at your face when I put my cock in ya.â He growls against my ear and I swear, I involuntarily clench just at his voice and demeanor. Lifting one of my legs higher to give himself room, he practically picks me up as he slides into me. Seeing our somewhat foggy reflection in the mirror is beyond erotic as he has me splayed open and ruts into me from behind. I have to force myself to keep my eyes open as the overwhelming sensation of his girth and length calls me to close them in utter bliss. Picking up his pace, I canât help but press my cheek against the glass as I focus on how this man can be everywhere all at once. Heâs practically holding me in the air due to our height difference while also pressing me against the shower wall and absolutely ravaging me while still placing pressure on my sensitive bundle of nerves. I feel my body begin to crest closer towards my release when he suddenly removes himself and I audibly whimper in disappointment.
Without a word, Sy turns me around to where I am facing him and sets me on the bench that is built into the shower. His cock is eye level with my mouth and I wet my lips in anticipation as I reach for him. Stepping out of my reach, I look at him with confusion before this bear of a man gets down on his knees and pulls me to the edge. Silently, he kisses the insides of my thighs before nipping at them as he makes his way to my drooling juncture. When he finally reaches his destination, his tongue wastes no time as he begins to sloppily make out with my petals before sucking on my clit. His fingers trail up and join his ministrations and when he inserts them, I realize Iâm close again. Reaching down, I place my hands on the soft fuzz of his buzz cut as he stares up at me with those cerulean blue eyes that watch me intensely while he pleasures me. My legs are propped on his shoulders as I do my best to remain still even though I canât help but squirm with desire.
âBaby..Sy.. Iâm gonna⊠come.â I stutter as I hit my peak and release a moan so graphic that Iâm grateful we are in private. Once again, Sy carries me through the aftershocks of my euphoria as I begin to regain feeling in my extremities. Syverson stands and I reach for him as I quickly guide him into my mouth. He groans with satisfaction at my unexpected reciprocation, but tries to protest.Â
âYouâre not calling the shots here.â He pants as I suck him from base to tip. Iâm sure I look like a wet rat but he doesnât seem to mind when I nod and hum around him while fondling his testicles. Pulling back just enough, I whisper, âFuck my mouthâ and return him to my open lips. Austin looks up at the ceiling before biting his fist as he slowly and gently begins gyrating his hips. Reaching for his hands, I place them on my head as I look up at him from beneath my lashes and he continues his gentle ministrations until I force myself down on him until I gag. He quickly retreats, but I grip his hips and do it again.Â
âFuck, darlinâ, donât hurt ya-selfâ he grunts and although uncomfortable to do, Iâm feeling so powerful as this man whines in pleasure. We continue for a few more minutes before he grips my wet hair, gently tugging me off of him.
âBut I wanna-â I protest but he hauls me up on my feet and then lifts me fully off of the floor against him. My legs are wrapped around his waist and my breasts are in his face as inserts himself and begins pumping inside of me. Iâve never felt as full as I do in this position, literally split open on top of him while he supports my entire body weight. Syverson doesnât waste a moment and simultaneously gropes my ass while sucking on my boobs. I gasp in pleasure as this man roughly thrusts into me and his presence surrounds me from every single angle.Â
âOh fuck, Sy!â I moan and he catches my lips, nipping my plump bottom lip as he does.Â
âYa wanted me to do you dirty and rough, huh?â He growls against my boob as I nod dumbly in agreement.
âIs this what you wanted? What you needed? Me taking you raw and hard against the shower walls?
Lost in pleasure, I nod again but that doesnât satisfy him.
âI canât hear ya. I want you to say it.â He demands and I hastily respond.
âGod yes, baby! I needed it.âÂ
âNeeded to be my naughty girl, huh?â He smirks as he slams into my wet hole.
âUh huh! Wanted to be -- your â naughty girl.â I reply between breath taking thrusts.
âTired of being my good girl?â He grins with a thrust and I shake my head.
âUh uhâ is the only reply I can give as Iâm cresting closer and closer towards another orgasm.Â
Reaching down, Sy thumbs my clitoris and I clench as Iâm right at the edge.
âCâmon Sugar. I know youâre right there.â He slams into me while putting pressure on my spot and within seconds I shatter. My whole body feels like itâs rushing with white hot pleasure as it runs through my veins and to my extremities. I feel myself fall limp while my body clenches in spasms as Sy hits his own climax and shoots his release deep inside of me. Iâm just beginning to regain my composure as he becomes spent, and I wrap my arms around his neck helping to support the weight of our position while he basks in our shared indulgence. Sy rests his head on my breasts as I stroke the softness of his buzzcut once more. Â
Carefully and exhaustedly, I remove myself from him and place each shaky leg on the ground while leaning against the tile to keep me upright. I reach for the body wash and begin soaping Syverson who allows me this aftercare. After washing his body, I angle him towards the water that is now room temperature at best. Sy greedily returns the favor and begins gently soaping my body with a sly grope or two before washing my hair. I help him condition it since heâs never had hair as long as mine, and when we are thoroughly rinsed we wrap into our fluffy bath towels and dry off.Â
Heading into the bedroom, we get under the covers and I admire his godlike physique for a moment before snuggling into him, fully satiated.Â
âFeeling better?â His voice echoes under my ear that is pressed against the soft curls of his chest hair.
âMuch. You?â
âIâm good. Just wish you wouldâve told me this was what you needed.â He replies and I arch my brow before leaning up to lock eyes with him.
âI wish you wouldâve told me about the nightmares. That you wouldâve let me in rather than pushing me away. I was sure you were over me now that the âchaseâ was over.â I sigh and Syverson presses a kiss to my forehead.Â
âNo way, darlinâ. Iâll never be over you. I just want to protect you and it just didnât seem right to be rough with you after everything yaâ been through.â
âYouâre the only one who can be rough with me.â I smirk and he cutely waggles his eyebrows at me.
âI think my girlâs getting kinky on me.â He chortles and I decide to buy into the joke.
âYup, got a whip, blindfold, and handcuffs arriving next week. I canât wait to tie you up.â Syverson stops laughing as his eyes grow wide as saucers.
âLittle darlinâ, Iâd let you do a lot to me but Iâll be the one tying you up blindfolded.â He says but I giggle at the image of him laid out at my will. Hmm, I might actually like that, but the thought of him tying me up and blindfolding me has me slightly more excited. We banter for a bit more until my yawns become so frequent that I find myself drifting off. Before allowing my sleep to fully take me under, I whisper to Syverson.Â
âIâm here, and Iâm not going to die. You saved me and you always will.âÂ
Chapter 21:
A/N:
Sorry this has been a bit slow- this chapter feels a bit lackluster to me, so I apologize! I may edit it some more later but after two days of staring at it, I decided to just go ahead and post it for you all. I can't seem to pinpoint exactly what this chapter is lacking for me, but I hope some of you enjoy. Hope every one of you had a lovely Thanksgiving! I'm thankful you choose to share your time with me! â€ïž
NOT THE OP for that latest ask (about Sy pushing Reader too far), but I have been thinking about something like that too! Specifically, the part where Sy is kind of "being mean", essentially teasing her. And Y/N says it's because he came before her. I don't know why, for a second there, I did think, oh maybe she's going to actually cry but it went away super quick. There is also that mention of not being comfortable with tickling and things like that. To be honest, I don't see any other way Sy would "go far" in any way.
Unrelated to this, but there is one scene that I feel like there is SO MUCH to expand on, is the one where they have a date where Sy is dirty cuz he's working in his garage and then Y/N cozies up to him on the couch. It's in a chapter I re-read a lot. Ma'am, will there be any garage sex in future?? đđ
hi hello! I'm just here nibbling up any and all feedback and ideas, thank you!!
This is gonna be fun to play with. I'll have to do a one-shot for sure cause it wouldn't fit in the rest of ETS, both the Pushing Too Far and the Garage bit, which I am equally frothing at the mouth over.
Pushing Too Far
I think it would happen like this.
Sy is proud of Y/N and how she's been gradually and steadily opening up in bed (there is a lingerie scene that I've decided to incorporate into ETS whereas I originally planned it to be another one-shot...but it's an example of her growing more and more comfortable). Their sex life is great, they're both more than happy with it, so in love, so horny for each other, and by this point they've done it in just about every position in tons of places, and Sy's gotten rougher at certain times, too (consensually).
Instead of him actually doing something in bed that's "too far", he actually says something, and while he means what he says as praise (which Y/N loves), she interprets it as degrading.
From the time Sy whispers the slur, even prefixing it with "my perfect," and ""my sweet little" and "such a good"--the mood is over. Y/N's body freezes entirely as her mind goes to a bad place. All she knows is Sy called her a whore, or a slut, or whatever else it is that he murmurs, and she doesn't like it, not at all, not at all, she's not that, she doesn't want to be that. And it's maybe ten seconds later that Sy catches her face scrunched up and her eyes getting damp, and not in a good way.
So THAT'S gonna be heartbreaking to read but you bet your ass I'm gonna (eventually) write it.
As for the tickling thing, that's just gonna piss her off one day in the future when she's seriously grumpy and too hormonal to think rationally and simply just tell him to knock it off. All she fucking cares about is just not being touched right now, and she already wriggled away from the first tickle, so FUCKING STOP IT, SY, GOD!
So yeah, that would be a legitimate silent-treatment day for them both because they're both surly and cross with each other. Over tickling. Which Sy has learned is an excellent way of getting her to loosen up sometimes because her body naturally falls into his when he does it, and then he can wrap his arm around her and pull her in close.
(But it would be sickly sweet in bed that night when they both apologize and have pillow talk and Y/N would cry that she's sorry, she's just not been feeling herself lately and maybe she needs to change up her meds because she would *never* snap at Sy like that or cringe at his touch [even if he needed to take the hint earlier and stop the fucking tickling], and then the next day she just gets plain sick and miserable, and then she starts throwing up the day after that, and THEN she misses a period, and THEN!)
Garage Scene
Um. Um. I think you'll just have to wait until I can write this. You've given me so many thots....
In the summertime, in the middle of the day...Y/N wants to bring her hardworking man something cold to drink. But she can't find him out in the back yard, so unless he's in the field clearing out trees with Johnny, she goes to the next most likely place...finds him in the garage. There's a giant industrial sized fan in the back corner that's not doing much to cool down the hot air in the building, and it's loud enough that it also doesnât give her away when she steps inside and gets her fill of Sy. He's on his back underneath a car, the only visible parts of him being his chest-downwards. Dirty white shirt, dirty blue jeans, the stereotypical mechanic look since his navy blue jumpsuit's in the washer.
the friend fic (part one) As the sister of Sy's best friend, at first you mainly tolerated Sy being around. Until that tolerance turned into a fondness. Until that fondness turned into a hidden crush. Until that crush turned intoâŠsomething you didn't want to label.
Syverson x Reader, adult characters but with high-school flashbacks
Words: 2.5k
A/N: No warnings yet. Not sure how many parts it'll be, but probably about three or four.
A/N 2: is this me.....writing in past tense???
The Superbowl. The biggest game of the year. The time to overeat, to get drunk, to get loud. All over a bunch of men running back and forth on TV.Â
You couldnât care less about it.
Yet here you were, anyway, wearing an oversized football jersey, eating your third plate of food, donning a neverending grin on your face at the corniest commercials. Sports or not, it was your best friend Katieâs house, surrounded by all your mutual friends, and there, you could be yourself. Best of all, your boyfriend was at his own Superbowl party, so you didnât feel the need to behave a certain way or anything. You could be one-hundred percent you. No external judgment in sight.Â
You didn't dwell on the fact that maybe that wasn't an especially normal thought to have about a boyfriend.Â
It was easy not to dwell, anyway, when Sy's been next to you on the couch all evening. He was always so particular about having the seat on the left of the sofa whenever he came over to Katie's because it could recline, so before he even claimed it to start with, you chose the middle seat. And that's where you've stayed.
It was a safe distance away where only your knees touched from time to time, yeah, but it was still close enough. Comfortable. A comfort you haven't had in a long, long time, it seemed. The comfort of justâŠbeing near a person who understood you. The familiarity.Â
For as much history you two have had as friendsâsome good and some admittedly not so goodâthere was still that comfort there. Always would be, you thought to yourself.Â
Anyway, he just got up to walk into the kitchen with your brother, so, naturally, it was obvious what you were going to do. First, you stared at his back for a few minutes, and second, you scooted over to his recently-vacated spot on the couch.
Casually scrolling through your phone while keeping your peripheral vision tuned into the kitchen, you noticed the very second Sy started walking back to the living room, and when you saw movement in front of you, you acted like you ignored it. Even when Sy cleared his throat, you continued ignoring it, eyes glued to your phone.
Sy tapped your foot with his own. âI was sittinâ there,â he finally said when he was directly in front of you.
Still keeping your gaze averted to your phone, you shrugged and asked, âWere you?â
A pause. Trying not to smirk, you glanced up.Â
He simply gave you one little look, and your eyes got big while you froze. He wouldnât dare.
Just as he started to lunge for you, you shrieked and leapt over the back of the couch. It made your phone fly out of your grip, but you didnât care; you giggled maniacally as Sy tried to catch you. Joke was on him, though. He was too damn stocky to be a match for your agility. You quickly made it out of the entire room before he could even get close.Â
Or so you thought. Breathing heavily, Sy caught you in the hallway easily, and after he ran in front of you to block your advancement to the back door, he crouched down and wrapped his arms around your waist. When he stood upright again, it was with your entire body draped over his shoulder.Â
As he began marching down the hall like everything was normal, you pounded on his back with closed fists. âSy!â
âWhatâs that noise?â Sy calmly asked himself under his breath.Â
âLet me down!â
Sy turned quickly to the left, and you almost knocked your head against the wall. âWho is that?â
âItâs me, you asshole!â you hit his back again and called out, almost laughing but not giving him the pleasure to hear it. âLet me down!â
âI thought I heardâŠâ Sy turned again and finished walking down the hall, choosing to go into the dining room instead of the den where all the activity currently was. âNah.â
âSyverson,â you firmly said while kicking your feet. âLetâmeâdown!â
âSounds like someoneâs sayinâ my last name, but I canâtâŠreallyâŠhear.â
Upside down, you could tell you were finally about to approach the back door. âAlright, alright, you win,â you told him breathlessly. âThat what you wanna hear? You win.â
Sy let you down on flat ground again, and almost smugly, he smiled. âAlways do.âÂ
While all the blood from your head rushed back down your body, you stuck your tongue out at him.
"Dick," you muttered without meaning it at all, and he offered a smile.
After you opened the back door and walked outside to the deck, Sy followed you. âDonâtchu wanna go back in there and see the halftime show?â
âAh, I donât care," you said.Â
You took a seat on the outdoor loveseat while catching your breath, and Sy stepped closer to you while looking towards your lap for some reason. After a moment that couldn't possibly be hesitation but sure as hell seemed like it, he sat down heavily in front of you. His giant figure made the chair he selected look like it was designed for a child.Â
"Your band's playin', though."Â
Blankly, you stared at him.Â
"That band you saw in high school," he supplied.
"Gonna have to gimme somethin' more than that, SyâŠ"
While thinking, he waved his hand in front of him. "The--The fuckin'âŠThe one from England. You know. You saw 'em before Iâ"
You tilted your head to the side.Â
"Damn, Y/N," he said incredulously, dropping his hand, "you don't even know who's playin' the Superbowl halftime show?"
Ooh. You knew which band he was talking about now.Â
And you knew why he cut himself off, too. He was about to say "you saw 'em before I shipped out". But he didn't. He didn't say that. And the reason why is because he didn't want to touch that subject. Didn't even want to risk bringing it up.Â
After all this time, you still haven't talked about the party the night before he and your brother left for Basic Training. Not a word. You've been pretending the night justâŠdidn't happen. It was better that way.Â
-O-
In high school, your brother and Sy signed up for the fucking Army together, literally seconds apart, standing side by side in the cafeteria, using the same exact black pen and everything.Â
(You've since learned that the military forbids any type of pen that writes in any other color besides standard black.) (You've since learned more about the Army than you've ever thought to be possible, actually.)Â
Recruiters visited the school every year, dangling a bunch of promises and perks at seniors with too-few options of collegiate success, and they successfully made their pitch. They roped them all in. They got your brother. They got Sy.Â
The pep rally that hosted them encouraged the whole thing, cheering for the students who stood in a line in the middle of the basketball court with their hands clasped together at the smalls of their backs. The new class of recruits.
Before Sy and your brother left town, they'd thrown a party. A big one, a huge one, an epic one. A night that people still talk about an entire decade later. A barn party off the grid from any trouble from the law.Â
Over a hundred people were there, about the size of Sy's graduating class. Older than you. Cooler than you.
You'd tried hanging drink-for-drink with themâeven did a keg stand or two away from the hovering watch of your brotherâand you proceeded to get drunk. You proceeded to get embarrassingly, shit-faced, throw-up-in-the-grass drunk.Â
Sy had gotten a new girlfriend. Another one. That's what started the whole thing. Thinking about it now seemed so stupid because you'd never had any chance with him, but stillâit hurt.Â
It hurt.Â
So the party was supposed to be a perfect opportunity to justâŠlet loose. To just forget about the nonexistent chance with Sy. To forget that he and your brother were joining the fucking Army in the first place.Â
Sometime between beers five and six, you found a random pair of eyes looking at you from underneath a dirty ballcap, someone you didn't recognize. Someone from another school.
The outfit was the same as all the other guys, though. The same old generic blue-jeans, white t-shirt, and dark pair of boots. A look that screamed "I'm a lifetime sponsor of the FFA". You figured heâd do.
So you drank with him until that turned to laughing with him until that turned to touching until that turned to full-on sloppy kissing until that turned to groping one another without a care who saw.
Sy saw. Sy intervened.
âChrist. What the hell do you think youâre doinâ, Y/N?â
Drunkenly, you slurred, âWhassit look like? Makinâ out withâŠâ You giggled and leaned into the guy holding onto you. âWhatâs your name again?â
Before the guy could even answer, Sy simply pointed at him. âGo fuck off somewhere else,â he brusquely said over all of the loud noises of music and people shout-talking surrounding you, and, after very obviously looking down at Syâs boots and then up his entire body until his eyes reached the ire of Syâs eyes, the guy beside you took one large step back and then disappeared entirely from your side.Â
With your jaw dropped, you instantly turned to face Sy head-on, squaring your jaw and defiantly lifting your face. You pushed yourself up on your tip-toes to make yourself taller, but within seconds, you lost your balance entirely, falling into the brick-wall of Syâs body.Â
"What tha fuck," you slurred. Why was he so firm.Â
Because over the past year he'd gone through a protein bar every single hour of every single day, bulking himself up for this specific day. The day he left.Â
Sy caught you at each of your forearms with two firm hands, and you gasped as he stared down at you with a mixture of disappointment and anger. It was an anger you could feel in the very grip of his hands, the fire from his eyes burning into your glossy ones.Â
The hard touch passed quickly, turning softer before releasing entirely, and you were drunk enough and confused enough to lean into him again on purpose just to feel it once more. He was leaving tomorrow.Â
But then he was crossing his arms, asking, âThe fuck, Y/N?â and then you instantly turned mad.
"You'reâ" Leaving tomorrow, you finished your thought despondently. "You'reâŠ.interruptinâ my night!â
"Your night?" Sy leaned his face down to speak to you through harshly-gritted teeth.Â
"I meanâŠWell, I know it's not my nightâI just meantâŠ"
Sy lowers his voice. âHe was gropinâ your entire ass in frontâa dozens of people.â
âWell, this ainât church, Sy,â you countered while pushing yourself upwards again, lifting your face so it was within inches of his. âWhat dâyou think people come to parties to do?â
âIf thatâs the case, then why donâtchu just go an' findju a good tree to hide behind, Y/N?â he asked. âReally go for it.â
After approximately five shock-still seconds, you pulled one of your hands back and slapped Sy's cheek as hard as you could. âYouâre a fucking asshole,â you seethed.
He stood silently.Â
âGood God,â you heard from your brother nearby, quickly approaching you. "What the fuck, Y/N?"
"Why's no one stickin' up for me here?!" you shrieked, feeling ganged up on. "Why is everything my fault?"
Your brother grabbed your arm and walked you several meters away, out of earshot of Sy. He stared at you in disappointment so heavy you felt it on top of your skin.
âOne night,â he said. âJust one night.â
âOne night for what?â you repeated, now holding back tears.
âAll I asked for was just one fuckin' night. Itâs the last night before weâre goinâ out, Y/N.â
"I canât help your friend is a dick,â you muttered, glaring at Sy in the distance. "He did the exact same thing with his girlfriend."
"How d'you know that?" your brother challenged. "Did you see?"
You rolled your eyes. "Seen it enough times to know."
"Well. That's funny, 'cause she ain't even here."
"Why?" you asked, starting to feel your body sway. "It's y'alls last night in town. Obviously he's--you know."
"He dumped her earlier today."
The world stopped. "Oh. Damn."
"Shit, Y/N," he cursed. "I can't do this kinda shit. Just fuckin' talk to him yourself."
"What does that even mean?" you slurred, starting to hiccup. "Why would IâWhy would I talk to himâŠafter heâŠâÂ
After suddenly forgetting everything, you felt a shake on your shoulder. âY/N,â Sy's voice said, then louder and more insistently. âY/N, open your eyes.â
You squinted one open, and you found yourself laying down for some reason, Sy's face peering down at you.Â
âThought you could keep up with the seniors,â he murmured, just in time for you to gice him the middle finger.Â
Immediately, you realized you were laying down in the backseat of a car. Your second realization was the motion of the car causing a queasy feeling to pass through your stomach.
An ill noise emitted out of your throat.
âOh, shit,â Sy urgently let out. âFuckâHereââ
You leaned over and threw up on the floor of the car.Â
The next afternoon, you woke up in your bed with your head weighing ten-thousand pounds. You didnât see Sy again for another year. Didn't communicate with him, either.Â
-O-
The Thursday after the Superbowl, you found yourself at the usual bar with the usual gang at the usual time: Buffalo Wild Wings; your brother Nick, his girlfriend Lizzie, your best friend Katie, her boyfriend James, and Sy; 6:30pm.Â
You'd been staring at your beer glass while everyone around you talked until Sy's voice shook you out of your thoughts. âYou really movinâ in with him?â
You ran your finger along the condensation on your glass and wondered how the hell he'd found out already. You certainly didnât tell Sy you were moving in with your boyfriend, but you knew that these things got around. You had a close friend-group.Â
"Guess so," you finally replied.Â
âWell, you sound fuckin' pumped.â
Almost laughing at his dry delivery, you shrugged. âHeâs got two other roommates.â
âWomen?â Sy asked, and you looked at him curiously and shook your head.
âNo,â you answered slowly. âTheyâre guys. Just some friends of his.â
Sy grunted.Â
âYeah,â you agreed with the gruff sentiment. âAnd if they think Iâm gonna be their maid now that I'm movin' in, theyâre in for a surprise, âcause it ainât happeninâ.â
Barely discernible due to his large beard, Sy's lips curled up a little. You wanted to smile right there along with him, but you didn't.Â
You wished he would tell you that you were making a mistake. You wished that heâd convince you not to do it at all.
Okay, just in the spirit of riffing, what would have happened in ETS if reader hadn't stopped Sy from leaving in chapter 13? Would he have tried to get her back? Would she have high tailed it out of town by Thanksgiving? What would Amelia have done on Monday?
Did you know that I love angst? Did you? Did you also know I love making alternate endings for things?
I whipped something up real quick... I'm making them suffer.
So.
You almost immediately fall into a depressive episode. That night, you lock yourself in your room and tell everyone you're super sick and probably contagious, and you roll with that excuse the entire weekend. You miss work the next Monday and have to literally drag yourself out of bed the day after that, only for the sake of keeping your job.
Without giving any effort to your appearance, you drive to work and lock yourself in your cubicle. For the rest of the week, you're little-to-no contact with coworkers. Going out into the public for home-visits becomes so dreadful that you almost consider falsifying that you've done them at all. Your only desire is to sit in your car in a random parking lot and stare at the steering wheel.
You sleep a lot.
Your avoidance act doesn't last long once Amelia figures out--not from you but from Johnny--what's been happening. What you've done. And though she tries to get through to you, her encouragement for you to reach back out to Sy falls on deaf ears. You can't do that.
You can't prolong this hurt inside by hearing his voice again. It'd just make it worse. Even texting wouldn't be bearable, you don't imagine, because then that'd bring with it an avalanche of memories--all the times you'd look down at your phone with a stupid smile while messaging each other. All the times he'd send you links to music videos he wanted to share with you. The stupid pictures he'd take for you to share slices of his day with you. The--the other stuff he'd text you late at night.
The memories, short as they may be, cause your eyes to fill up with burning hot tears. He's truly such a good fucking guy. He made you laugh, and he made you feel like you were on his mind, like you were special somehow, and like you were desired.
And you pushed him away.
-O-
Sy's miserable. He gets even less sleep than he usually does and starts looking worn out within days and like shit within a week. A numbness takes over and covers him with an inability to do much, to take pleasure in the stuff he used to enjoy, to live. Instead of throwing himself into action like he normally does, he's uncharacteristically immobile.
Clothes are spread out all over his bedroom floor. Dishes are piled up in his sink, and he begins stacking dirty plates next to it--some still resting on side-tables with various coffee cups and beer cans. The counters are full of random containers of food and crumbs.
To get to sleep, Sy makes himself a strong drink every night. Before it takes him, he puts his phone on his nightstand and stares at it, forcing himself not to reach out and touch it. He can't contact you. He can't contact you because you don't want him to. He has to respect that.
But maybe, just fucking maybe, you'll contact him.
Sy makes excuse after excuse to get out of guy's nights out. After unforgivably missing Johnny's holiday party, though, Johnny comes to Sy's place uninvited and holds a man-to-man intervention.
"C'mon, Cap," he utters from next to him on the couch. "You know how to fight. So fight."
Sy grunts. "She don't want me to fight."
"Ain't too sure about that."
"She don't want me to do anything. She don't want me at all."
Johnny sighs. "Alright, get the fuck up." He abruptly stands up to yanks on Sy's arm, pulling him up easily since Sy's body is so exhausted. "You're comin' with me."
Weak though he is, Sy plants his feet firmly where they are and pushes Johnny away from him. "There ain't no need, alright?"
Mean in a way that Sy would normally feel proud of for teaching him to be, Johnny fixes his face in the most angry-serious-stern face he can muster, steels his jaw, and says between his teeth, "You're coming with me whether you fucking like it or not. If you wanna be a bitch, I'll knock you out and throw you in the back of the car. Be a lot more easy if you just sat in the fuckin' passenger seat." He extends his entire arm to point to the front door. "Now fucking walk."
Eyes That See Summary: Your life has consisted of caring for others. This is a story of you learning to care for yourself.
Eyes That See Part 28 Summary: After an eventful day, you and SyâŠgo to bed.
Words: 13.5k
TW: smut. oral sex (f and m receiving), p-in-v sex, body worship, readerâs poorly-hidden praise/creampie kinks
A/N: ten points if anyone can tell me what Y/N is unspeakingly worried about the second she wakes up before getting breakfast
Holding each other under the spray of the shower, you and Sy slowly start to sway. The movement is soothing but soon changes; Syâs erection rhythmically slides against your stomach in a way that becomes too evident to be accidental, and the moment turns from soft and romantic to heated and romantic. You glance up at him and watch his expression grow heady, almost like heâs drunk.Â
Suddenly, youâre taken back to standing by the car outside your dadâs place where Sy, unable to stop touching and kissing you, made it known just how much he wants you. And hell, you want him. When he bends and places his forehead against yours, youâre overwhelmed by just how much, and you close your eyes.
Silently, almost sacred, both your hands get more exploratory, creating paths over each otherâs slick skin, fingers gently gripping what they can. You touch the swell of his muscular ass and then his lower back before sliding your hands up his stomach and chest, ultimately holding onto his shoulders for good. Likewise, he squeezes your ass, too, then trails one hand up your waist before stopping at one of your breasts, cupping and squeezing.
He starts running his thumb over your nipple, and within seconds of your first little shaky and inadvertent sound of contentment, he finally covers your mouth with his. Straightaway, he pours into the kiss so much you feel your knees buckle, and as your hands move to grip the back of his neck, he pulls you in even closer to steady you.Â
You pour into the kiss just as much, widening your mouth and meeting his tongue with equal pressure, communicating together. His kisses say he loves you, heâs proud of you, you amaze him every dayâYour kisses say you love him, heâs the best man youâve ever known, youâre so happy to have him in your life.Â
Right after your mouths start making sounds together, Sy detaches from you and just stares at your face for a few moments. Almost regretfully, like heâd like to stay like this, he gives you a look before standing up straight and loosening his hold on you. Your arms fall to your sides as you watch him take a step backwards and turn off the water.
Sy opens the shower curtain next, and youâre momentarily upset at the sudden temperature change and loss of body contact, but the look he gives you as he helps you step out onto the bare tile of the bathroom tells you that itâll all be worth it soon. Heâs not going anywhere.
Sy throws a spare towel on the ground for you both to use as a bath-mat, but still, water drips all over the floor. You donât care. As you both towel yourselves dry, itâs back to the same heaviness as before, that same anticipatory buzzing as there was on the car ride here. Itâs that feeling of having an invisible string attached to one another so that where one person goes, so does the other. You also could compare it to a magnet, or a shadow, even. Itâs a bond that allows you both to communicate with just your eyes. Youâre growing more confident with it all the time.
Amidst all of that, thereâs still something off-setting about the sudden brightness of the bathroom compared to the relative dimness behind the shower curtain, though, like youâve just left a dark movie theater and have stepped outside into too-bright sunshine. With the bathroom door remaining open this entire time, no steam has fogged up the room at allânor the giant mirror above the long counterâand strangely, you donât want to be entirely naked right now. And though you know thereâs literally no reason whatsoever to feel self-conscious, you wrap your towel across your chest and secure it, anyway.Â
Thatâs when Sy pushes you against the counter with two firm hands on your hips. He kisses you, but itâs soft and itâs shortânot a continuation of the long, sensual kisses from a second ago. In the next breath, he coaxes you to turn around to face the mirror, and you follow his unspoken instruction. Putting all your focus on Syâs reflection, you donât look at yourself at all.
The feeling of Syâs hard body standing behind you entirely naked and entirely possessive is one thing; the image of it is something else. One of his bare legs is visible to the side of your towel, the quadricep muscle locked tight and the flattened hair on his upper thigh almost teasing. If he moved just an inch to the side, heâd reveal his dark pubic hair, and another inch to the sideâŠeven more. It looks like a photograph.
Sy bends down to gently kiss your shoulder and then the back of your neck. His beard, trimmed and groomed specifically for this trip, is soft and somewhat wet against your skin. âI wanna fuck you in front of a mirror like this some time,â he murmurs, making your eyes go big. âSo you can see what I see.â
That sounds like a very difficult idea for you to imagine finding comfort in, but still, youâre automatically nodding, whispering, âOkay.âÂ
Syâs fingers twitch atop your thighs. âYeah?â He presses himself even closer to you, letting you feel how hard he is. âGonna let me?â
âWould let you do anything,â you breathlessly and honestly answer, and he chuckles. For a brief moment, your eyes meet in the mirror, and he gives you a little smile that you instantly return.
The atmosphere is suddenly tender. âExcept you wouldnât,â he says as he slides a hand around to rest over the terry-cloth covering your stomach. âNot if you didnât like it.â
You close your eyes and sigh, leaning your head back against his chest. âI always like what you do.â
âDo you?â
âMhm.â Even if it takes mental effort to try to not be embarrassed by it.Â
Syâs other hand trails up the side of your stomach, too, and stops at the bottom swell of your breast.Â
âBut you would tell me if you didnât,â he confidently coaxes while his head dips to the other side of your neck. Your affirmative response must vibrate from your throat onto his lips because afterwards, he hums appreciatively.
Still, he must want you to speak aloud. He cups your breast and pointedly asks, âWouldnâtchu?â
âYeah, Sy,â you practically whisper. âI'd tell you.â
Whereas there was heat and impatience earlier in the evening, now, after the shower, thereâs a special type of softness in Sy that he only shows to you and you alone. He purposefully does not remove your towel. He does, however, undo the clasp of your necklace, and he carefully places it on the countertop.Â
âTurn back around, sweetheart.â
Feeling under a spell, you listen and look up at him, and while he leans down, you push yourself up on your toes. This kiss is long. Open-mouthed, deep, and indulgent, you get swept away almost instantly and flatten your feet on the bathroom floor. Your center of focus is your mouths moving together, your tongues sharing warmth. To keep yourself from floating away, your hands lightly come to rest on Syâs lovehandles.Â
Within a second, Sy grunts as he hefts you up onto the counter, and you barely have time to hiss at the coldness underneath your thighs before heâs already planting his hands there and pulling you towards him entirely. From the strain of his muscles, you can tell heâs preparing to entirely lift you up, and with a gasp, you quickly lift your arms to lock around his neck. While youâre trying to cross your ankles at his lower back, heâs already walking out of the bathroom.
Your bare pussy makes minor contact with his stomach with every other strong step he takes, and you know he must feel it. His expression gives away nothing as he carefully lays you on the mattress and hovers over you while you lean back and adjust yourself.Â
Itâs almost imperceptible, but you catch it, anywayâa small wince on Sy's face, a consequence of carrying you. You instantly disentangle your legs from around his back and move to the middle of the bed. It gives him space to lay down next to you, and once there, he half-covers your body with his own.
You lift a hand to his neck. âYouâve been walking too much this weekend,â you worry aloud, keeping your voice quiet.
Sy makes a noise of acknowledgement at that, but as usual, doesnât offer any further comment. You roll onto your left side and gently touch his chest. Sitting up a bit, you firmly push against his skin. âLay back.â
Sy raises an eyebrow and stares at you until you sigh and roll your eyes. You push yourself up even more and wait for him to move onto his back. âJust roll over,â you chuckle. âLay back.â
Reluctantly, he listens. âBossinâ me around already,â he mutters with a glint in his eyes.
After moving to sit up all the way, you carefully lift your right leg over his waist and get situated, putting your knees on the mattress and bending your legs to fit snug against the sides of his stomach. Orâas snug as possible. Heâs so wide that you do the best you can. While you tilt and begin to lower your face, Sy holds you at the hips.
Long and slow, you press your lips to Syâs. âPuttinâ you in your place, I thought it was,â you quietly say into his mouth, ending it by licking his upper lip.Â
âWhatever it is,â Sy utters in between another kiss, âfeel free to keep doinâ it.â
You smile and settle all of your lower body weight on Sy, no longer just hovering over him. When your pussy makes actual contact with the flat hair on his lower stomach, Sy immediately pulls you in even closer, humming appreciatively. Not being able to help it, you roll your hips backwards a little bit and then forward again, and a little whimper escapes your throat. In a way that has nothing to do with just having showered, youâre wet.
After exchanging even more slow and heated kisses, you sit up all the way. Not breaking eye-contact with Sy, you lift your hands to the top of the towel youâre wearing. Slowly, you take the fabric apart, and just as slowly, you let it fall onto his legs.Â
Like he hadnât just literally showered with you mere minutes ago, Syâs eyes eagerly take in your nudity, parting his lips while unabashedly settling his gaze on your breasts. The heating unit by the far wall clicks on just then, almost drowning out his quietly-uttered, âGod, youâre so fuckinâ hot,â but not quite. You hear it and feel flushed all over.Â
This isn't a position you often find yourself in. On top of the blankets and on top of Sy, youâre more exposed than youâd normally be comfortable with, but the only illumination in the room is the dim light of the bathroom, plus Syâs looking up at you with such blatant desire that an unfamiliar sort of courage blooms inside you.Â
Itâs not just desire in his eyes, though. Itâs that intimate glint reserved just for you, what you recognize now as love. Only he gets to see you like this. This is yours to share with only one another.Â
Only you get to see him like thisâon his back, the hard lines of his face smoothed out, his serious eyes turned soft, gazing up at you like you're all there is in the room. Even though the weight of his attention is heavy at times, you yearn for it. And even though itâs hard at times to hear his compliments, you melt in his praise.Â
Inside, you know that thereâs nothing to be nervous about. He loves you. Youâre safe with him. Heâs proud of you.Â
You lean down again and take Syâs face in both hands, continuing to kiss him as long and as savoring as you want. He enthusiastically responds, and in no time, both of your jaws are opening and closing like waves while sharing wet, rippling kisses.Â
Without breaking your mouths apart, Sy touches you. He touches you everywhereâwith all parts of his hands. Fully caressing your breasts, thumbing over your nipples, sliding just his fingertips down the delicate skin over your ribcageâthatâs how he starts. Then he trails his hands over your thighs, letting you feel the callouses on his palms. Greedily, he slides back up to your breasts, cupping and squeezing where they're occasionally touching his own chest, then he moves to the long plane of your back. Eventually, he lowers his hands again to run along your legs, and ultimately, he lands on his destinationâyour ass.Â
While your faces gently continue to move left and right, you realize youâve been steadily squirming on Sy, getting the bottom of his happy trail damp. He grips both of your ass cheeks and firmly pulls you in even closer, and itâs evident that your movements havenât been unnoticed. Heâs encouraging them.
Your inner thighs are starting to get sticky, so much it's like you're sitting in oil. Itâs dirty, but feeling how wet his lower stomach has gotten because of you has you letting out one of your first obscene noises of the night, directly into Syâs mouth. You canât help but to undulate your hips even more against the slick-matted hair there.Â
Sy groans and lifts a hand to cup your jaw, fingertips splaying out towards the back of your head. âFeel good?âÂ
His strong hand suddenly on your face makes it hard for you to even move it, but, panting into his mouth, you answer with a little nod.
âYeah?â he whispers. The tip of your nose touches his while you nod again.
âKeep goinâ, baby,â he quietly urges. âLemme keep listeninâ to you.â
Closing your eyes, you start moving again, but itâs choppy. With all the attention on this specific thing now, borderline humiliation starts to creep in. Itâs like that morning you woke up rubbing yourself over Syâs thigh, stuck between drowsiness and consciousness, horniness and self-realization. Having it even brought up was enough for you to fully freeze at that moment.
Syâs voice is ardent when he says your name. In response to the tone of it, your eyes immediately open.Â
âGet outta your head with me,â he reminds you in a whisper. âJust keep feelinâ good.â
Giving him another little nod, you watch his face while you start to rut against his stomach againâstill slow, but purposefully and pleasurably soâjust little circles now. Sy really does seem to enjoy watching and listening to you, so you remind yourself again that even though this could come across as degrading with anyone else, you have no reason to be nervous. You can feel how hard his dick is directly behind your ass.Â
Your hands thatâve been holding Syâs face and neck move down to his chest, and you lightly prop yourself upwards, putting a little more space between your bodies. When the little circles youâre making start feeling really good, you softly whine, âOh, God.âÂ
Sy watches all he can between your bodies, eyes darting between your rocking pelvis and your tits directly in front of his face. âThere you go,â he murmurs, quiet quiet quiet. âThere you go.â
Your voices are almost too faint to hear under regular circumstances, but now, with everything so intimate, itâs only right for everything to be hushed. Every sound you make, though steadily becoming a little dirty-sounding, remains soft.Â
After moving his hand to the small of your back, Sy lets out a deep grumbling-sound when he feels the exact rhythm of how youâre rocking and gliding on top of him. You whimper as the near-constant lubrication and pressure on your clit rapidly becomes almost too pleasurable. Syâs dark eyes lift up to your face in time to see your eyebrows scrunching together, your mouth dropped open.
Youâre already close to coming, and you donât want that yetâjust on the off-chance that your body wonât cooperate doing it a second time later on. Itâs challenging, but you pointedly stop moving and offer Sy a sheepish look, heavily breathing above him before leaning down for a single kiss. Lowering yourself down his body the next instant, you kiss your way along his hairy chest and stomach, skipping a certain spot when it makes your face heat up.Â
Sy turns his head to the side and groans before widening both of his thick legs for you to situate yourself in between. Once there, you rest your head on the very top of his left leg and glance up at him without touching him at all. He reaches down and runs his hand over your hair in a petting motion. You softly smile as you begin to calm down from your earlier peak.Â
Lightly, you run a finger along Syâs cock, now pointing at his belly button and so erect that prominent veins are showing. His fingers tighten on your hair once you reach the slit at the top and begin spreading around his pre-cum with your fingertips.
âYouâre really hard,â you flit your eyes upwards and whisper.
He reaches down to grab his dick at the very bottom, holding it upright. âYeah,â he looks you directly in the eye and murmurs. âI am.â
You reach out and softly touch Syâs inner thigh next, noticing how pale it is compared to his other weather-darkened skin, how relatively hairless the area is compared to the rest of his legs. Next, you trail your fingers over the velvety skin of his balls, first at the crease and then each one individually. The more inward you focus, the thicker his hair becomes, and youâre lost in the pure masculinity of how it all looksâhis cock in his hand, his tight balls underneath, his pubic hair surrounding everything.Â
Gradually looking up his body, you take in all the hair atop his stomach and chest, moving your hand to slide upwards until thereâs enough to gently grip in your fist, then you glance even higher to study his beard.Â
Thereâs a sensation on your head, and you realize itâs Sy running his hand over your hair again. Finally, you look up at his eyes, but youâre distracted a second later when he slides his thumb along your cheek and rests it on your bottom lip, pushing.Â
You close your mouth around his offering, realizing that while youâve been resting your head on his leg, youâve begun to drool, almost enough to drip on his thigh. Immediately, with weight in your mouth, your eyes get heavy and slip closed.Â
The thumb goes away, and Sy says your name. Then he says baby. You squint open your eyes.Â
The room feels as hazy as your mind does when you finally lean inwards and lick Syâs cock where heâs angling it towards your mouth. Like time right now is heavy and slow. Like thereâs no rush for anything at all. Nothingâs urgent, and everythingâs just right. Like this is all there is.Â
You carefully lap up all the fluid at Sy's cockhead with little swirls of your tongue and listen to the hitches in his breath. After alternating with licking, sucking, and flickingâkeeping everything purposefully slowâSy starts taking in louder lungfuls of air.
When he removes his hand from the base of his cock, it jumps. Your hand instantly takes its place, and when you try to pull upwards, thereâs hardly any give. After a few more tortuously slow pulls, you finally shift so that youâre entirely centered between his legs, no longer with your head on his leg.
In this ongoing glow of confidence Syâs giving you, you look him in the eyes while you begin to lower your mouth againâthis time front and center. You feel addicted to all of this right nowâto him in your mouth, to the image of him laying like he is, broad and hairy and periodically lifting his head to look down at you only to throw it back on his pillow a second later. Watching Sy start to lose control of himself is one of the best things ever.Â
Ultimately, he shoves a few pillows behind his head and sits up a little bit so he can watch everything youâre doing. He places his hand on the back of your head again, and itâs a pleasant weight as you drop your mouth as low as you possibly can before sliding it back up. Slowly, you repeat the action several times until youâve drooled all over his dick, but even then, youâre not done messing around. You mouth and lick down the sides and back up with no real purpose but to hear Syâs breathing switch up with every new thing you do.
When you get him entirely in your mouth again, you start using your hand to stroke him in time. Even at your slow pace, Sy doesnât push on your head or rush you. He remains still, only letting out staccato breaths and short, sporadic grunts. You covet every one of them.
When he finally speaks, it's when you momentarily take your hand off him and lower your mouth as much as you possibly can. When you pull up to the tip again, you just lower your mouth again, starting to slowly bob your head and suck, and Sy lets out a long, quiet, and drawn-out, âYeaahh.â
To rest your cheeks, you remove your mouth after a while to just jerk him with your hand, but youâre sure to keep everything excruciatingly slow. Witnessing him still heavily gazing down at you, you look directly in his eyes while your hand moves, sticking your tongue out and circling it around the tip of his dick.Â
With his first soft-spoken swear of the night, his hand drops from your head down onto the mattress. Again, his vowel sound is lengthened, fricative as he grunts, âShii-iit.âÂ
He must like what he sees. Happily, you wiggle a little bit.
When you decide youâve teased enough, you finally lower your mouth again and instantly give the pressure and speed and suction you know he likes with your mouth, tongue, and hand. You start bobbing your head up and down, jerking him at the same time, and right away, heâs affected, groaning from deep within his chest.
âFuck, just like that,â he slurs, and the simple praise that he likes what youâre doing lights you up. With his dick in your mouth, you want to smile. You love making him feel good. âYeah. So fuckinâ good.â
You moan around him instantly. He smells and tastes like clean skin with an underlying layer of salt and arousal, and it makes your head feel even heavier. Your lust-droopy eyes slip closed while you fall into a rhythm thatâs quick yet still relatively unpredictable. Moving downwards and upwards, sometimes you repeatedly bob your head. Other times you keep your fist at the top to touch your lips while you suck extra hard and wildly circle your tongue. Mainly, you go by Syâs breathing and his soft cussing, moaning in satisfaction with the knowledge youâre doing good every time he praises you. You look up at him almost constantly.
Your free hand twitches on Syâs upper leg when you feel your pussy begin to clench on nothing at all, and you whine when the urge to grind against something returns. Breathing heavily through your nostrils, you shift onto your knees for a second before finally bowing your spine, sticking your ass up in some vain attempt to stop everything inside you from throbbing so much. Just then, Syâs hips fiercely jump upwards, causing his dick to stab your tonsils.
âFuck, baby, shit,â he sharply lets out right as you cough, and from his tone, itâs him apologizing.
Sy can always control himself right up until the second heâs about to come. Youâve learned that heâll only thrust his hips upwards when heâs right on the edge. Heâs too considerate otherwise, even going so far as to entirely back out of your mouth if he hears you choking even a little.Â
This time you encourage it, reaching underneath to grip his ass-cheek and literally pull him deeper inside your mouth, but with tightly coiled legs and a firm grip on your hair from out of nowhere, everything suddenly stills. Though you try to resist, Syâs strong when he pulls you off his dick with a loud popping sound, and a long string of saliva trails from your mouth as you look up at him. He swears under his breath, but you canât hear what he actually says. You just keep looking at him.
âCâmere, darlinâ,â he mutters like itâs not the first time heâs said it, nudging your hair. âCâmere.â
He must not want to come yet, either. You climb back up to straddle his waist again, feeling his hands instantly settle on your hips. Heavily breathing, you wipe your hand across your lips, then you fish for more praise.Â
âGood?â you ask with a smile, your voice scratchy.
Again, Syâs hands begin to move everywhere, and they wonât stop. They run up and down your sides, around to your back and then down to your ass, then up your back again only to slide around to your breasts.
âYeah, baby, so good, perfect,â Sy indulges, even though heâd told you that already. Just massaging your breasts together, he groans, slow and deep. âYouâre so fuckinâ perfect.â
You want to say No, Iâm not, but you remind yourself that to Sy, you are, so you just offer a small smile.
He moves his hands to your hips and pulls. âGet back down here.â
With so many pillows still behind his back, heâs propped up, and itâs easy to move until youâre entirely pressed against his chest. The moment you wrap your hands around his thick neck and press your lips onto his, however, he yanks the pillows away and lays back on the mattress, taking you with him.
After letting out a little gasp and then a little chuckle, you tilt your head to the side and actually kiss Sy, laying your chest flat against his. Minutely, you simultaneously begin moving your hips in little circles again, just something to ease the ache, and then he starts talking into your mouth.
âFuck.â Syâs hands come to rest on your ass, and he squeezes each cheek generously. âYouâre so fuckinâ hot, Y/N. So pretty.â
With a whine, your eyes close instantly. Youâre rubbing your bare cunt across his stomach and you both have the taste of his dick in your mouths, and heâs calling you pretty.Â
Behind you, Sy reaches downwards and takes hold of himself. You feel a smear of liquid against your ass-cheek then the slow tell-tale movements of his hand pulling up and down, and it gives you the brief burst of courage you need to brace a hand on his chest to lift your upper body entirely up.Â
While Syâs lazily stroking himself behind you, you push your upper body up and start grinding your hips again, a little more evidently this time since this foreplay apparently has no time-limit and both of you are obviously really fucking into it. It feels like it should be dirty, so dirtyâfucking without fuckingâbut with your eyes trained intently on one anotherâs, all it feels is right. It feels so good, there's no way it's anything but right.Â
A few moments of pleasure later, you slightly lift yourself so you can slide down Syâs upper thighs. Beckoning him to move his hand off himself, you move even further down his legs until you can look down and see his cock. Carefully, carefully, you lower yourself, cover Syâs dick with your pussy, and start to slide your wetness upwards from root to tip.Â
Syâs mouth widely drops open, and he strains his neck while looking down, breathing through only his mouth. When his eyes flicker up to your face, itâs like he canât believe what heâs seeing. âFuck, baby,â he lets out, all in one hotly exhaled breath.Â
Sy goes back to staring at your gliding pussy lips encasing his dick before briefly looking up at you again. âWatch,â he tells you. âWatch with me.â
You look down for only a second and have to close your eyes.
âNuh-uh. Watch.â
âSy.â
âTell me what it feels like.â
You whine while continuing to move.
He grunts in response. âLook how fuckinâ wet you're makinâ me.â
After you look down again, Sy reaches out for your tits like heâs starved. When he gets both your breasts in his large hands, he moves his thumbs around and around your pebbled nipples, obsessed, and you just canât take it anymore. You need more. Youâve gotta have more. Everything isâ
Sy slightly pinches one of your nipples, and you cry out. âWhatâs it feel like?â
âReally good,â you whisper quickly, almost feeling frantic. âReally, really good.â
You lean one hand down on Syâs chest. Reaching down with the other hand, you take hold of his slick cock and angle it straight up. You want him inside you now.Â
Your leg muscles clench as you lift up and then impulsively begin sinking down to match up with the tip of Sy, but when you feel his cockhead make contact with your dripping pussy and just barely breach inside, you freeze.
Your face darts up to look at Sy, and you honest-to-God whine. He looks at you momentarily like youâre crazy for stopping, then he taps your leg. âMy bag, fuck,â he says almost urgently. âThe left.â
Youâre frustrated that you canât just stretch out and reach into Syâs bag from your current position. You have to climb over him until youâre on the side of the bed, then you have to lean down to unzip the pouch on the left of his gym back. When all you find is a pocket-knifeâwhat the fuck did he pack a pocket-knife forâyou then have to unzip the pouch on the right.Â
âDammit, the other left,â you mutter.
You grab a packet from the small box and instantly climb back on top of Syâs thick thighs. You try to rip open the foil, and even though your hands aren't even slippery or anything, you struggle. âI-Shit, Sy, I canâtâget thisâfuckingââ
Youâre about to give up and just use your teeth to open the package when Sy reaches out to take it from you. âYouâre handsâre shakinâ,â he murmurs, eyebrows touching.
You look down at your hands and can feel the anticipatory anxiety in them, like theyâre full of crawling ants.
âHey.â Sy waits until you look at him. âYou okay?â
âYeah.â Quickly, you nod. âI just feel reallyâa lot.â
âYou are a lot.â
You smirk. âYou're a lot. This is a lot,â you gesture between your bodies and reply. âItâsâŠalways a lot.â
Sy looks you down and back up. âThis still okay?â he asks, and God, heâhe just knows you so well. Knows how new situations make you nervous even if theyâre something you want. âYou okay like this?â
You neither shake nor nod your head. You just lean down to kiss him. When your lips break, he says, âI need words.â
You swallow. âYeah,â you answer, but your voice comes out nervous. You remember the conversation you'd had not even thirty minutes ago in the car, how you and Sy were literally discussing your preference for him being in charge because it makes you feel less nervous knowing you don't have to control everything.Â
âŠBut no oneâs saying he isnât in control like this. You were on top of him on the couch that one timeâthat time you were on your back laying on top of himâso you repeat yourself, a little less shaky, âYeah. Iâm good.â
âAnd whatâre you gonna do if you ainât feelinâ it?â
You look down and smile a little bit. âGonna let you know.âÂ
Sy tears open the condom packet and takes out the slippery latex, instantly looking down as he rolls it on himself. He pinches the end before holding his dick fully upright at the top, and you just stare down at him with your mouth open. God, heâs hot.
âSy?â
He looks up right away.Â
âJustâlike, keep talkinâ to me.â
He gives you that sideways little smile, and he reaches out to pull your face down to his. With your lips just millimeters apart, he quietly whispers, âBaby. With you ridinâ my dick, ainât no way you could shut me up.â
Quickly, you breathe, and youâre so close to him that you canât even see both his eyesâyou have to focus on just one. Sy rests his free hand on your thigh and slightly squeezes, spurring you to lift yourself for him. As if drawn together, you both instantly and innately move to uniteâyou getting upright again and lifting your hips, Sy holding himself to seek out your heat. Sinking down where you feel his fingers, you match up, and you continue lowering yourself until the head of his cock just barely pops inside you. Once you drop just a tiny bit more, Sy moves his hand away and grasps your other thigh.Â
Already feeling a stretch, you lower yourself a tiny bit at a time, soundlessly gasping when you rise back up again. Repeatedly, you do this, and you're rewarded by Sy's heavy breathing and the most lust-filled expression imaginable on his face.Â
âYeah, keep goinâ,â he murmurs, dazed and gravelly and giving you all you need to keep going. âYou can take it all.â
You lean a hand down onto Syâs chest and slowly keep working your hips up and down. You know you can take all of himâyou know it. The lower you go, though, the more resistance it feels like there is, like you're just not going to be able to get the lower half inside in this position. You let out a whine, and Sy brings one of his hands up to the back of your head, beckoning you to cover his mouth with yours again.Â
Once more, you fall forward. Once more, your humid mouths slot together. Youâll never get tired of kissing this man, so you start up with the same fervor youâd shared earlier, tongues going crazy, tasting and exploring his mouth, moaning into it because you love him and he makes you feel good.
Sy starts shallowly pushing upwards to match your careful movements downwards. After a few seconds, he takes hold of your hips, strongly thrusts upwards, and simultaneously pulls your body down. Within a second, youâre speared on his dick, bodies connected as much as physically possible, and both of you sound out as one.Â
Your noise is more of a quiet scream than a moan; itâs like Syâs cock has pushed through a barrier thatâs led to an explosion of pleasure on the other side of it. As you let out a shaky whimper at how good everything feels already-not even really moving yetâSy lets out a deep noise like heâs been injured, like heâs been punched in the stomach.Â
You look at his face to witness his features tightly contorted in what looks like pain. His mouth is taut, his teeth clenched. His hands are gripping your hips so firmly that it almost aches. It takes a second, but you're finally able to get out, âSyâbabyâare you all right?â
He lets out a noise almost like a laugh, but again, like everything else going on with him right now, itâs strained. âFuck, are you?â He finally opens his eyes, and they're heavy-lidded and dark.
âYeah, itâsââ God, your pussyâs throbbing around Sy, like a heartbeat you feel throughout your entire body. âItâs really good.â
His fingers twitch where theyâre digging into your skin. âYou feel fuckinâ amazinâ.âÂ
âSy,â you desperately moan, and for a moment, you feel a little crazy. Itâs so fucking much that you feel out of your mind. How is it like this? How is it always like this?
You slot your mouth to Syâs again right before you start lifting yourself up his shaft, andâoh, thatâs a sound you recognize. Youâve never heard Sy make whatever noise that was a second ago, but the ones nowâthe ones heâs letting out into your mouthâyou know. Your lips curve into a smile in the middle of a kiss.
Breaking the kiss momentarily, you watch his face as you lift your hips up again. The look he gives you is almost dark. When his hands travel from your hips to the backs of your legs, cupping your ass, you're half-expecting him to entirely flip you over.Â
He doesnât. Instead, one hand remains grasping one ass cheek while his other starts to travel to the middle. Like it's nothing, he trails an index finger down the tight crease of skin under your tailbone and then lightly over your dry hole. He goes lower until you feel his touch against where youâre stretched around his cock. After cursing between his teeth, he moves that hand to your ass cheek again.
âGod, you're so tight.â
âMmm.â
You try to stay slow, just trying out what feels the best for you and what elicits the most sounds from Sy, little by little getting used to the stretch, body reshaping itself around him.
If his half-moon eyes and slack jaw are any indication, he likes when you ride just the tip of him. He likes when you take all of him inside, too, going almost all the way up and sinking down with your full body weight. He also likes when you donât move much at all and simply grind and circle your hips against him. Youâre so worked up that you do it all.
You donât mean to, but your mind momentarily drifts somewhere for a secondâand you know you shouldnât be in your head at all right now, but you canât help it. Itâs hard to stop thinking for long enough to actually get into a rhythm of something. You want Sy to tell you what to do.
Sy must clock your nervousness. While putting his hand on the back of your head, he simultaneously leans upwards and pulls you into another heated kiss, seeming to realize that kissing is calming. Without breaking from your mouth, he falls back to the mattress and takes you with him again. Keeping your legs bracketed at the sides of Syâs stomach, your hands slide upwards to wrap around his neck. Appreciatively, Syâs own hands run up and down the long lines of your bare back once youâre crouching so close over him that your hair drops onto his face.
âWhat dâyou like the best, like this?â you whisper. âWhat do you want?âÂ
âJust make yourself feel good, baby.â Sy smiles as he slides his hands down to your ass. âThatâs what I want. I wanna see you do whatchu want.â
Okay. You trust him. You trust him with all parts of you. Now you can actually let go. Those are his directionsâjust do what you want.
You nod at him.Â
âYeah?â he whispers. âYou gonna be good and take whatchu want?â
âGood God,â you utter. Shakily, you press a whisper of a kiss on his lips, then you begin moving again, with rhythm, with purpose, working on chasing pleasure again. Encouragingly, Sy cups your ass cheeks and repeatedly helps lift you up, almost to the point where heâs doing all the work, but mainly just setting the pace before moving his hands to other parts of you.
Only when you get into an addictive rhythm does Sy start fucking his hips up, and after he bends his legs and plants his feet on the mattress, you both gently start to glide and crash together.Â
You kiss him again and again and whimper into his mouthâquiet little sounds exiting the back of your throat in time with every quickening breath you let out. âSyyy.â
Soon you start actually moaning instead of whimpering through heavy breaths, and Sy follows, deeply groaning, as well. In two separate octaves, you move in time and share reserved passion. âMmm, mhmm.â
Even though itâs more for you to coordinateâmaking out and fuckingâinstinct takes over. You both massage one anotherâs tongues with the same rhythm that your bodies are uniting with, and with Syâs hands touching your ass and your breasts and your legs and your neck, with his groans filling your mouth, your speed gradually increases.
So do your sounds.Â
âOh, my God.â
âYeah,â Sy says encouragingly, deep and low.Â
Though you want to, you grow too exerted to continue kissing nonstop. The air between your noses and mouths gets too humid once you both start to sweat, so you push your hands against his chest again to lift your upper body up. Instantly, Sy pushes himself up with his hands on the mattress and, clearly not one to lay still, begins placing open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck.Â
You hold onto Syâs shoulders just as heâs taking your breasts in both hands. The angle is different now, and instead of moving up and down on him, you start grinding forward, making his dick press against some sharp spot inside of your pussy while your clit presses against his pubic bone.
âFu-uck,â you say through a choked-back moan when you feel him start mouthing at your nipples, then groaning against you, then lightly biting. Your face contorts at the sensation of your pussy being stretched, being filled, and, outside of that, you feeling utterly consumed and taken care of and safe and lit up. âSy, fuck.â
Frantically, you grab the back of Syâs neck with one hand while continuing to undulate your hips, and when heâs done kissing along your neck, he just stares down at you.Â
âGod, lookatchu.â
You look down at your bodies carnally grinding together, and to blindly chase everything, you begin rutting forward even faster. âLook at you.â
Everything in the world is focused on the sensations youâre washing yourselves in. Sy feels so good and smells so good and looks so good and sounds so good, encouraging you with his breathy grunts and shallow thrusts and constant whispers of dirty-sweet stuff into the hot air between your faces.
You both breathe heavily and remain otherwise quiet while just watching one another, but when Sy lets out a grunted âfuck,â his lips pursed like heâs concentrating real hard on something, he leans backwards to lay flat on the bed again. You lose some of the pressure on your clit when you become entirely upright, hands no longer on Syâs shoulders and neck for leverage anymore but down by your legs instead.Â
At the new angle, you start to slightly bounce instead of grind, and though you miss how it felt shallowly rubbing your entire pussy against him, itâs made better when Sy takes both of your hands in his and simply holds them while looking up at you and then down where youâre connecting. You clench your leg muscles and start truly riding him, mouth falling open. This is nice, too. This is so nice, too.
âOh, shit.â
âYeah, câmon,â he mumbles, staring all over your body in a daze. âBaby, you got no idea how good you look right now.â
You smile at himâor you try to. It could just be with your eyes. Youâre glad Sy likes talking in bedâeven if he just does it for your sake. The only difference between tonight and any other night is that whenever he speaks, itâs with a low, hushed whisper, making everything even more personal.Â
His hands move to the area around your hips, not touching but just hovering there. He stares at the spot your bodies are joining for a long time before throwing his head to the side then looking back up at your face. He sounds drunk when he lets out, âSo lucky tâ have you like this.â
âSy, oh my God,â you whine, and you say it because you canât formulate anything else whatsoever to say, but what you mean isâyouâre so fucking big, I feel so fucking good, I love you so fucking much.
Youâre overwhelmed. This is too much. Itâs all so much. It feels amazing, but it feels like youâre out of control. Your mouth is beard-burned and is letting out noises with every breath you take, and you can't even help it any longerânot the sounds themselves nor the volume of them. Your breasts are moving in a way that probably looks weird and your face probably looks screwed up, yet all you can do is just speed up even more.Â
âSo fuckinâ lucky, baby, God.â
You try to keep yourself from outrightly keening in pleasure. âI'mââ
âYouâre beautiful,â Sy utters while his eyes travel all over the place, mainly at your chest. âThatâs whatchu are. Fuckinâ perfect for me.â
Your answer is a moan. You and Syâs noises mix beautifully in symphony, his deep and low grunts and your higher-pitched whines and melodic moans. In between curses, Sy heavily pants. Heâs looking at you with such an intense expression, reverent and heated and fucked-out all at once.Â
âFuck, I canât-â you curse when you feel your legs start tiring out. âFuck.â
Sy's eyes turn wide, almost concerned. âIâm sorryâfuck, I canât, Sy,â you tell him, slowing down and slightly wincing as your muscles burn.
âI gotchu,â he says while thrusting up now, matching your pace from a moment ago. You lean forward again and put one hand on the middle of his chest, and almost immediately, he grabs your forearm, having you falling on top of him entirely, tits smushing against his pecs.
âOh, shit.â
âYouâre so fuckinâ hot,â he says as you lean your body to the left and start kissing and biting and sucking on Syâs neck. âSo good. You got no ideaââ
Your forehead falls onto his neck, and you grip at any skin you can find as firmly as you can while you try to move as quickly as possible in rhythm with Sy, this time using your ass muscles to assist instead of your burning quads. You dig your knees into the mattress and rest the tops of your feet on Syâs legs, and when you canât keep your eyes open any longer, they close in bliss.
âOh, fuck.â Fingers digging into your skin, Sy lets out a long grunt when you start moving quickly enough for your skin to slap together. âOh, shit. âM gonna fuckinâ come if you donât slow down.â
You open your eyes long enough to smile at him, biting your lower lip. Thatâs what you want. You want it so bad. He always makes you feel so good, and now youâre making him feel goodâyouâre feeling good together. If possible, you move quicker, practically riding just the tip of his dick at this point, all while keeping your upper body laying on his.
Sy smacks your ass. âGonna come if you donât quit,â he warns again, faster than he ever speaks.Â
The idea of stopping makes no sense, and despite the aches in your legs that you can still feel even using different muscles, your body just canât do it. You canât stop. You want him to come. You tell him so. âI want you to.â
The instant Sy physically grabs your hips to still you, you whine. âY/N,â he warns through clenched teeth.
When he can, he always wants you to watch you finish first, and you get thatâs why heâs being like this. But just because you wonât be coming first obviously doesnât mean he canât watch you just a minute later, so you give him bedroom eyes and say, âBut itâs what I want, baby, please.â
Syâs breathing gets more stifled when you start moving with frenetic purposeâbring him to climax, watch it all, feel it all. Because you feel some sort of power right now, and because his dirty talk has somewhat rubbed off on you, you put your mouth close to his ear while your pussy starts to ensconce his dick again. âItâs what I want,â you repeat while panting, âso I can make believe youâre cominâ inside me for real.â
âFuck,â he lets out sharp and low as if being punched in the gut. âWhatâYouâY/Nââ
Suddenly, you arenât the one moving anymore; Syâs holding you so tightly that you canât. At all. Itâs all him now, thrusting upwards so rapidly his balls slap against your asshole. His feet dig into the mattress as he continues fucking you, no momentum lost at all, just full-force thrusting into you while groaning the deepest and most desperate sounds against your throat.
Youâve never felt him move so fast. Even though youâre trying to hold off for at least another minute so you can watch him, you could come like this. The sliding, the wetness, the speed, the deep spot he keeps hittingââOh, my God, oh my fucking God, Sy. Ungh! Oh my God.â
âYouâre so fuckinâ hot,â Sy rushes out in an urgent groan. âAnd youâre mine.â
âSyââ
âAll mine.â
âYeah, yes, yesââ
Youâre sweaty. Youâre breathless. Youâre taking an onslaught. If you thought your pussy was loud earlier, now itâs even more obscene, sounding like your ass is being spanked every single second. You clench and squeeze Sy's dick as tight as possible, feeling like you could explode at any time. âSyyy.â
âGonna come in you, baby, fuckâY/N, gonna comeââ
You continue to take all the pleasure you can from Sy while he goes through some full-body experience, roughly making out, âI'm comin'," before every muscle in his body locks tight.
As he suddenly stops moving, you push yourself up a little to watch his face contort, keelhauled. His expression is ecstasy exemplified.
His fingers loosen from their strong grip on your ass, then all of his muscles follow suit until heâs melted back on the mattress. His head tilts backwards so you can see every ridge of his throat. His damp chest rises and falls with effort, beautifully pink.
Sy laid back sweaty and pussy-drunk is one of the best sights you think youâve ever seen. Entranced, you watch every single movement he makesâhis chest fully expanding and falling again, his arms twitching, the taut cords of muscle in his neck loosening. His controlled face washed in deep relaxation.
You both stay how you are for at least an entire minute, then he blinks open his heavy eyes and glances at you.
âFuck,â he lets out while turning his face to the side, and you can read into the specific tone of itâitâs disbelief that his orgasm was that strong but frustration that he finished before you did.Â
You both breathe loudly for a while, then you experimentally roll your hips forward. When you roll them backwards, his soft cock accidentally slips out of you, and he curses again, slightly grumpy.
âRoll over,â he taps your leg and urges.
Your body is stiff and your brain is sluggish, so he has to tell you twice. âRoll over, Y/N, or Iâll do it myself.â
With shaky legs, you dismount and do as he asks, imagining for a second that if heâd really come inside you, itâd be leaking out onto your thighs right now.Â
The moment youâre on your back, Sy immediately sits up and moves in between your legs until heâs directly facing your pussy, breathing it in. You donât care where the condom even went right now; itâs forgotten. You donât care that heâs literally sniffing you right now.Â
You just made him come his brains out. Youâre high just from that. You donât care about anything else.Â
You push yourself backwards on the bed into a more comfortable position and bend your legs at the knees. On his stomach, Sy follows you hungrily. Spreading your pussy lips apart with fingers from both hands, he stares down at you.
âSo fuckinâ pretty,â he mutters, and now that the frenzy from before has died down, you feel a little embarrassed. You can only imagine what you look like right now. Your breathing hitches when Sy starts to fucking blow warm air on your clit.
âYou were right on the edge, werenâtchu?â he asks quietly, conversationally. The desperate edge to his voice is gone, replaced by something dirtier. âSo close to cominâ.â
With a fingernail in between your teeth to keep you from losing it altogether, you nod. âBut I wanted to watch you. It wasâŠit was really hot.â
Sy smirks. Then, without warning, he pushes your legs back until your knees are up by your face. You try to keep your feet from touching his shoulders, but itâs hard. After squirming for a bit, Sy ultimately touches one of your ankles to signal itâs okay for you to keep your feet there.
He leans up to kiss youâonce, twiceâbut, with your hands on both sides of his face, you try to draw it out. When youâre both licking into each otherâs mouths again, you move your lips and start sucking on his tongue. Sy bites your lower lip after that, and he smiles at you afterwards.
âNext time,â he promises before reaching two fingers down to your entrance. He draws little circles over your wetness then slides his fingers up your slit where all your nerve cells are firing off, all your blood still rushed there.Â
In an imitation of how youâd taken your time with him earlier, he justâŠenjoys you for a while. He touches you all over, again and again, just gentle touches in complete contrast to the frantic motions youâd shared just moments ago. Within minutes, your pussy is slick enough for wetness to trail down your ass crack.Â
âNext time, you know youâre cominâ on my dick,â he tells you without breaking eye-contact. âWhile youâre ridinâ me.â
Sy just barely slides a finger inside you, and you close your eyes with a gasp. âIâI was gonna.â
âI know you were,â he almost coos, removing his finger from your hole to go back to your clit again.
âNot just at the end, but likeââ You squeeze your eyes shut.
These past few weeks, Syâs encouraged you to discuss sex more than ever. And yeah, you sort of had to when the side effects of the anxiety medication you take finally decided to show up, making for a horribly embarrassing conversation about how sometimes you would be entirely ready and justâŠwouldnât have the wetness to match it. OrâŠhow afterwards, you wouldnât be able toâŠ
âI was close, like, when you were sittinâ up,â you quietly admit. âLikeâŠwith your hands on the bed. That wasâŠThat was good.â
He stares at you for a long moment. You shy away from the heated look for a minute, expecting him to ask, âWell, why didnât you tell me?â but instead, with a gleam in his eyes, he says, âMe too. Thatâs why I had to lay back down again.â
To ward off all the awkwardness youâre feeling, you stick out your tongue. Sy obscenely licks it with his own right before pressing two fingers at once into you, and you sound out against his lips.Â
âFeels good?â
You nod, but you reach down to cover your clit with all your fingers at once. âFeels the best here.â
âOh, I bet it does, sweetheart,â he says while moving your hand away from yourself.
Squinting your eyes at him, you almost glower. âAre you teasing me?â
Sy continues to steadily finger you, and his answer is in a kiss: he pushes his entire tongue into your mouth, slides his tongue along the entire length of yours, then reaches the end of it and starts circling and flicking it like heâd do if he were eating you out.Â
He does the thing with his tongue a few more times while his fingers continue to fuck into you, and wanting more, you tilt your hips upwards despite you already being angled the way you are. Sy doesnât give in until you put your hand on the back of his head and breathlessly let out, âPlease.â
âOh, you beg so sweet, donâtchu.â
You're too horny to chide him for being like this; you simply nod with wide-eyes, and Sy lets out some groaning sound. Scooting down the bed and spreading your pussy lips open with two hands again, Sy just stares at you with his mouth dropped open, and youâre gonna die if he keeps this up. You werenât this mean to him all.
But then he goes and says, âSo sweet,â and then, âSo good,â and if only he asked you to, youâd probably stay just like you currently are, frozen without moving for days, wanting only to be good for him. Wanting only for him to voice that you are.Â
Finally, finally, Sy presses his hot mouth onto your clit, licking over where youâre still pulsing, and you squeeze your eyes shut. âOh, fuck,â you harshly whisper. Youâre so sensitive your legs instantly start to shake.Â
When you look down, you see Syâs face slowly moving side to side, and then you feel him gently sucking. Almost involuntarily, your hips jump up against his tongue, against where heâs directly targeting that one spot thatâs throbbing and aching, and then you start to grind against his mouth. Itâs then he chooses to slide his fingers back inside you, pistoning them rhythmically, andâ
âOh,â you whimper. âOh, that feels good. Sy, that feels really, really good.âÂ
Your breathing gets heavier, louder, more urgent. ItâsâItâs a lot. Itâs a fucking lot. Your fingers twitch on top of Syâs head, and you momentarily wish he had more hair for you to pull. He keeps groaning against your skin while his mouth makes smacking noises, and the vibrations from that along with everything else heâs doingâ
âSy, youâre gonna make meâSyIâmgonnacome,â you moan, the last word louder than the rest of your urgently spoken warning.Â
Horrifically, Sy pulls his face back and stills his fingers. âNo, youâre not,â he states.
âYes,â you breathe out while tilting your hips up again in vain, âI am.â
Sy goes back in. When he starts flicking his tongue, your eyes roll in the back of your head, and your toes curl against his shoulders. âYouâre gonna wait,â he mumbles against you. Then he kisses there, wide and sloppy, slurping before sucking, using so much tongue you can hear it.
âSyyyâfuck.â
âYou can do that,â he pulls his face up again and says, almost sweetly. He takes his fingers out of your pussy and briefly sticks them in his mouth. After he slides them out, he murmurs, âYou can wait a liâl longer for me.â
âGod,â you moan, voice high-pitched while your hips start to twitch again. Sy firmly presses your hips down to the mattress. âBut I donât want to.â
âYou can wait,â Sy repeats himself.
Swallowing thickly, you shake your head while staring down at him in desperation. You could come from him running his beard on you at this point. Heâs being cruel by leaving you right on the edge only to keep taking it away. Repeatedly.Â
Syâs calm when he glances up at you. âYou're gonna be good and wait. Just like you did on my dick.â
Your legs quiver until your knees knock together. When you meet his gaze in the dark room, he gives you a knowing lookâheâd said the word. Good. Damn him, but you want to be good. You always just want to be good.Â
âThen you need to stop,â you urgently get out.
âOkay, baby,â he says, leaning back a little before pressing two fingers inside you at once. He slowly sinks them in and then out again, and the glide is perfect. âJust this, then.â
His fingers are great, but you begin to squirm. You want something back on your clit, too. It actually has its own heartbeat now. Not able to hold it back, you whine again.
âShh. You got to play with me. Now itâs my turn.â He gives you a gentle smile and even a wink. âMaybe you can make my arm all wet again.â
âOh, fuck.â
Sy takes out his index and middle fingers and goes back to fingering you with his middle and ring finger. âHere we go,â he mutters to himself, moving a little to get a better angle. âThis is whatchu like.â
He fingers you a little faster than before, alternating between delving in and out of your pussy and then just staying buried inside and vibrating his fingers somehow. You put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from screaming.
âPlease,â you let out, muffled behind your hand.
His index finger and pinky are splayed out, angling downwards towards your ass. His thumb is jutting upwards, begging to be used, and if he were to justâdrop it, then you could fuckingâ
âHm?â
âPlease,â you repeat yourself, but your voice is still imperceptible.
He kisses the inside of your leg. âPlease what, baby?â
You squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck. âPleaseââ you say, wanting him to just read your mind. âMore.â
Syâs fingers start to move urgently, squelching now. âFaster?â he asks.
He knows what the fuck heâs doing. You slide a hand down your stomach and then lower, touching your aching clit to get relief, but Sy moves it away instantly.
You honest-to-God pout. âYouâre beinâ mean,â you whine. âAre you doinâ this because you wanted me to come first and I didnât?â
âDoinâ what?â Sy asks against your folds. âIâm just tryinâ to make you feel good, baby.â
âWell, it hurts.â
Sy is quiet, apparently waiting until you look down and make eye contact with him, and when you do, your eyes are pained, your face scrunched up. His fingers are still jutting in and out of you.Â
âWhat hurts?â He lowers his mouth to your clit and keeps his eyes on yours as he finally starts to lick there again. âThis where it hurts?â
You frantically nod and watch as he does it again. Itâs perfect. Itâs fucking perfect. You hum. His fingers are touching some spot inside you that feels connected to your clit or something, like itâs just one giant interconnected pleasure spot.
âAm I makinâ it better?â he asks, and you donât care that heâs being cocky; you instantly nod.Â
Your hands move to the backs of your bent knees and stay there while Syâs mouth and his fingers expertly work in tandem, just building everything that was already overflowing earlier higher and higher and higher. With every frantic glide of his fingers, itâs more, and with every forceful thrust of them, itâs more, and with every curve of his fingertips against the spongy parts of your upper walls, itâs more.Â
âOh, God, Sy, itâs so fuckinâ good.â As you pant, each exhale is a whiny moan.
âThisâs why you didnât come first,â Sy backs away and quietly muses, sucking your clit lazily in between sentences.
âHuh?â
âNeeded me to touch you here, hm?â
You squeeze your eyes shut and writhe your head to the side.
âThat it?â he asks.Â
You thought youâd be getting what you wanted. You thought he was done with taking the breaks to talk and be mean. âI donâtâSy, I donâtââ
Sy lowers his mouth again. Each lapping brush of his tongue to your clit adds even more to the already insanely-high sensations, making everything topple over since itâs so much, and itâs so out of your control that you have no option but to succumb to it. Youâre gonna come. Youâre so close. If heâd justâ
âWhen you ride me again, youâre gonna have to lean back and not forward, ainâtchu?â
You donât know how to even visualize what heâs even saying. You can't make sense of any words, actually. You just keep feeling what he does in between talking to you. His mouth is fucking making smacking sounds as he gets sloppier and sloppier, and you're so so so fucking close.Â
âYouâll have to put your feet on the bed, wonâtchu,â he goes on. âHands back on the bed, too. Or my legs.âÂ
You grow to be louder, making these high-pitched nng sounds that are obscene and out of control. Responding to your noises, Sy just moves his tongue and his fingers even faster. After long moments pass without him talking at all, youâre so fucking glad heâs done teasing you. Youâre so close. All your muscles are taut and ready for release to wash over you.
But heâs not done. He slows down his fingers and removes his mouth from you, too. âThen Iâll be able to see you here.â
Sy taps your clit with just his index finger. Your hips jerk upward, and your muscles start quivering.Â
âThen Iâll be able to touch you here,â he whispers, circling his finger atop the little nub. âAnd then Iâll get to watchu come on my cock.âÂ
Youâre so shaky you canât keep still, but Sy puts his free hand on your stomach to make you. Looking down at him, your eyes twist up like they do when youâre about to cry.
âPlease,â you mouth.
âOkay, baby, shh,â he murmurs.
âPlease,â you say again, and youâre not above begging like this. âReally?â
âI gotchu,â he promises. âYou've been good.â
You look him in the eye and finally see that heâs earnestly done talking to you, done teasing you, so you lay back and just feel, having the telepathic knowledge that everything youâre experiencing right now wonât be taken away anymore, that this is it, that he wants to make and watch you come now, that even though you arenât coming on his dick, this is just as goodâcoming into his mouth.
The speed Sy returns to so quickly takes you aback and leaves you breathless. His fingers are practically pistoning, his mouth keeping time. Heâs been keeping you on the edge, and now heâs taking you right there and beyond. Heâs touching you like he owns you. His free hand stays gently pressing down on your lower stomach.Â
Youâve been moaning non-stop this entire time, but as your orgasm actually takes over, you let out a long, quivering, non-stop whine of various pitches. âIâmgonnnacomeIâmgonna comeIâmgonnacome,â you frantically get out, like Sy wouldnât be able to tell by how tightly youâre clenching his fingers.Â
You can feel your pussy squeezing while spasming and somehow getting even more wet, and you canât stop yourself from pushing your feet against Syâs shoulders to give you leverage to roll your hips upward.Â
âOh God, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,â you let out non-stop, gripping the blanket underneath you. âFuck!â
Sy doesnât slow down. You moan with each breath.
Rhythmically, you ride it all out, and Sy lets you rub yourself up and down on his tongue and mouth and beard, and everything feels like it lasts forever. Itâs not just quick and satisfying; itâs long and all-encompassing.Â
Your hips wonât stop thrusting upwards. âAhh, oh my God, Sy, baby, pleaseâoh my Godâfuck. Oh, fuck.â
Of all places to be this loud, itâs a hotel room, but you canât help yourself. Adding to your cacophony of sounds, Sy groans against you the entire time. Gradually, your noises die down in urgency and in volume when the rubber band of ecstasy snaps, and everything in your body loosens and relaxes in relief and bliss and pulsing, though you wonât stop twitching for some reason. You have to tap Syâs head several times to get him to back off a little.
Over-stimulated now, you lower your ass to the mattress and notice your legs sporadically shaking. Theyâre sore, so you stretch them out over Syâs back. Sy doesnât move his face from between them at all, but he finally slides his fingers out of you so he can use both hands to run up and down your thighs bracketing his face. Instead of moving up the bed to lay beside you, though, Sy stays right where he is and drops his mouth to tongue at your entrance.Â
Youâre still so sensitive that your hips jump at that. âSy,â you weakly get out. You try to squirm backwards, but Syâs hell-bent on keeping you still now. He holds your legs in place while tasting everything thatâs pooled out of you, and you're helpless to move away.Â
When he finally lifts his head, you can see his lips glistening even in the dim light of the room, and it should be crass, but itâs not. Thereâs an eroticism to all of this that shrouds an underlying romanticism. Like as long as itâs you two together, nothingâs bad and everythingâs beautiful.Â
The position youâve been in while Sy ate you out was about as dirty as you could possibly get, and despite your filthy moans and back-and-forth teasing, nothing was wrong about any of it. Nothing was wrong about tonight at all.Â
You and Sy stare at one another in the semi-darkness, both breathing heavily. Youâre not gonna cry after sex or anything, but your orgasm was so insane that you feel like you easily could.Â
You want him to hold you.
âGod damn.â You let out a giant sigh and keep your face slack and awed. âFuck.â
Several seconds later, you feel Sy lifting your legs from his shoulders and setting them back down. Surprising you, he leans forward to kiss you, and with a slow intensity, he holds your jaw. He cradles your face so reverently that you feel almost precious for a moment, all the while tasting sweetness on his tongue.Â
You brush your fingertips through his chest hair while you start lazily making out, both too sated for the kisses to turn into anything moreâjust kissing for the sake of it. Your lips are going to hurt tomorrow.Â
With you both now laying entirely horizontally, Sy runs his hands all over your body anew. You only stop kissing when you lose all energy to do a single thing.Â
âOh, my God, Sy, Iâm dead,â you whisper. âThis is my grave.â
Sy looks at you and chuckles, and then you look at him and chuckle, and thenâthe spell slightly breaks. The heaviness between you both goes away, and the air in the room turns back to normal, cooler. You both stretch and lay beside one another in the afterglow for a while, happy to not do a single thing but cuddle and come down from everything.
Sy kisses the top of your head. His voice is just as quiet as itâs always been when he says, âI love you.â
Sunshine warms your entire body, and you bask in it, nuzzling yourself more into his side. âI love you.â
âI really fuckinâ love you.â
Curiously, you lift your head and look at him, and his expression is normal, but a little on the side of smugness again. You stare at each other for a long time before you smile. âWho wouldnât?â
That earns you getting tickled, which you have a love/hate relationship with, and you grin. âI really, really love you, too,â you reply, reaching out to pull his chest hair to get him to stop tickling you.
When you start getting cold, rather than go under the blankets, you curl up against Sy and rest your head on his bicep. Looking up at his face, you notice his eyes are closed, but heâs not sleeping. You trace the line of his nose with a finger. Heâs so handsome. Heâs so fucking handsome.
Sy winks one eye open and observes you. âYou look happy,â he comments.
âI am.â You lazily smile. âIâd be havinâ a cigarette right now if I smoked.â
Sy grins, all self-satisfied and pleased. His gaze lingers on you.
You place a hand on top of his chest and start playing with the hair dusting it. âSy, that wasâŠâ
You canât come up with any words, and Sy fills in your silence. He holds out a hand palm-down and makes a wobbly motion with it. âJust so-so, huh?â
âShut up,â you say without any malice whatsoever.
You think youâre going to remember tonight for the rest of your life. It was that good. Butâ
âYou were evil, by the way,â youâre sure to mention.Â
The side of Syâs mouth curves upwards. âBaby, I live to see how many âoh fucksâ I can get outta you.â
You lightly slap his chest and look away, embarrassed. You feel his fingers on your chin within seconds. Expecting him to say something about how you should never feel embarrassed with him, you reluctantly meet his eyes, but when you do, heâs silent. Still, his eyes say it all, anyway: he loves you, and that extends to your bad-mouth in bed.
After you go awhile without talking, just blankly staring at the ceiling, Sy sprawls his entire hand out on top of your stomach. âWhatâs goinâ through that pretty head of yours?â
Youâve stopped rolling your eyes when he asks that. You canât help yourself from burrowing your head into his neck, though.Â
âJustâŠThat was really good.â
âIt always is with you.â
âIt always is with you,â you counter, then tease: âYou shoulda taken pictures.â
Sy freezes. You've only ever consented to him taking pictures sometimes. Itâs the first time youâve really initiated talking about the pictures. Without speaking any further, you both just gaze at one another, then go back to quietly cuddling.
Eventually, you and Sy disentangle, and you sit up and turn on the television. Naked, Sy gets up and shamelessly strolls to the bathroom, and he leaves the door open while he pees. You roll your eyes at the noise but still look at him fondly when he walks back into the room, phone now in his hands and soft dick swinging below it. He stands by the bed and keeps looking down at the screen.
Heâs fully invested in whatever heâs reading, so you take the time to slide out of bed and get some clothes on. Youâre in the middle of getting dressed in loose sleep-pants and a t-shirt when Sy crouches beside his own bag of stuff to dig out a pair of boxers. Even as he reaches out to throw away the used condom thatâs laying on the carpetâgrossâheâs still intently looking at his phone.
âWhatcha lookinâ at?â you ask curiously. âEverything okay?â
After Sy slides on his underwear, he pulls the bedsheets back and gets in bed. You follow suit, and he shows you the screen of his phone after switching on a table lamp.
Your eyes dart around the screen and try to make sense out of the list of multiple websites youâre suddenly looking at. Oh. Heâs researching restaurants nearby. âWhat, youâre hungry?â
He gives you a look. âThat food at your dadâs wonât nearly enough for you,â he says, âso Iâm gonna pick you up somethinâ else.â
âOh, babe,â you say, both touched and excited at once. âThatâs so sweet.â
Syâs eyes are just as bright as yours when you look at him. âI like when you say that.â
You just look down. âI really am hungry, actually,â you admit. âIâm glad that I ate so much at my momâs house, but I really shouldâve taken those freakinâ leftovers she offered.â
Still trying to look at his phone and figure out whatâs nearby, Sy asks, âWhat kinda fast-food do they got around here with stuff you can eat?â
âIâm not sure. Thereâs a couple restaurants nearby.â
Sy makes some noise and then starts getting fully dressed ânot for bed, but to go out.Â
You squint your eyes at him. âWhat are you doinâ?â
Sy looks at the hotel door. âGonna getchu food, like I said.â
âWe can do delivery so you donât have to go out.â
â...They got that here?â
You grin. âYeah, Sy. Weâre in town-town,â you remind him.
Sy leans back onto his collection of pillows while you go get your own phone and open the delivery app.Â
Wait. If he chooses his food after you do, that means heâll probably go forward with putting in his debit card information and paying for it all.
âActually,â you say, giving him your phone, âyou choose first. I gotta go to the bathroom to, likeâŠclean up and stuff. I'll pick something when I'm back.â
With a poorly attempted wink, Sy takes your phone.Â
In the bathroom, you honestly should probably take another shower because youâve been sweating, but you wash your face and clean up all other areas you need to while telling yourself you'll just shower in the morning. While taking out your contacts, Syâs voice calls out through the room.Â
âHey, babe, your momma just texted.â
âWhatâd she say?â you raise your voice and ask.
âDunno.â
You stick your head out of the doorframe. âWell, read it,â you chuckle.
A second later, Sy says, âWants to know if I liked her food.â
You walk out of the bathroom and make your way to the bed. âWho, like you specifically?â
âYeah.â
You sit down and scoot until youâre next to him again. âTell her you thought it was horrible.â
Sy reaches out and pushes your arm lightly. âItâs interesting sheâs askinâ,â he says while handing the phone back to you. âI made sure to tell her everything was good âbout three times âfore we left.â
âWell, thatâs my mom for you,â you mutter. âSheâs gonna worry about the same stuff again and again until she hears the same response, like, ten times.â
When you look up from your phone, Sy gives you a look thatâs non-judgmental yet knowing. You glance away.Â
After replying to your mom, you add food to your delivery order, pay for everything, then click through the television channels for something mindless to turn on.
You and Sy half-sit/half-lay side by side with pillows behind your back while choosing a documentary to watch, and half an hour later, youâre still in the same positionâonly with boxes of food in your laps. From time to time, Sy takes his plastic fork and puts it up to your mouth to share with you, and you do the same to him.Â
Finally full and satiated, you cuddle close to Sy and close your eyes, starting to be lulled to sleep by just matching his breathing. He turns off the bedside lamp but stays awake, and the British narratorâs voice from whatever documentary is playing becomes fainter and fainter when, somewhere in the background, the loud heating unit clicks on.Â
As your breathing gets heavy and rhythmic, you know you're probably at risk of drooling on your pillow, so you turn over so your back is against Sy's figure. He rests a loose hand on your hip, and you feel its weight remain constant until you finally drift off to sleep.
-O-
The following morning, you head down to the continental breakfast alone to get good coffee and fruit for yourself and sausage and bacon for Sy. Behind your glasses, your eyes are slanted with sleep, and while still being presentable, youâre wearing loose-fitting and lazy-looking clothes.
Robotically, you wait in the long line and take tiny step after tiny step as people ahead of you go through warming up their bagels and choosing which cereals they want and debating over orange juice or apple juice and just all-around being too damn loud.Â
Youâre zoning out in line when two lively couples queue up behind you and start talking in one large group, and theyâre so loud that you're not able to ignore them at all. Somewhat grumpy, you frown.
âHowâd yâall sleep?â the man in the back asks the couple closest to you.
The lady beside the guyâhis wife?--just looks at the guyâher husband?--and laughs. You take a small step ahead in line and try not to eavesdrop though itâs pretty much impossible. People that talk this loud in public spaces are basically inviting it.
âWhatâs so funny?â the man in the back asks.
The guy wonât answer, but the woman offers up, âWe got a free show last night.â
The man in back scoops some eggs onto his plate. âWhatâs that mean?â
âWhoever stayed next door to us,â the guy nearest you mutters as he shuffles up the line, âwas so loud I couldn't get to sleep. Could hear them over the TV.â
The man in back says, âLoud likeâŠâ but that's all you hear before there's some light laughter.Â
âI always tell you to bring a fan or a white noise machine on these trips, Adam,â the lady says.
âWell, sorry, Jessica,â the guy directly behind you replies, âbut for some reason I wasnât expecting this hotel to be filming porn this weekend.â
Staring at the counter, your eyes turn into saucers.
Eyes That See Summary: Your life has consisted of caring for others. This is a story of you learning to care for yourself.
Eyes That See Part 2 Summary: You and Sy spend the day visiting your family. At your dadâs house, something interesting happens, and when you're back in the hotel, Sy comforts you.
Word Count: 17k
Tags: Some Christmas themes, the American stereotype of sharing European ancestry with people, Showering Together, Sy being A Real Good Boy and also a Real Bad Man
A/N: Whenever I've talked about âThe Virginia Tripâ... in my mind, it has always equated to 2 scenes: the one with Michael, and the one with Y/N's dad. Here we are!
A/N 2: In the south, we call a winter hat a âtobogganâ (and a sled a sled). Just to clear up confusion.Â
A/N 3: If there are typos, you know what? At this point, I'll just fix them later.
Despite being able to tell behind your closed eyelids that the room is half-filled with sunlight, it takes you a while to truly wake up the next morning. Youâre just so comfortable, surrounded by tons of fluffy pillows and laying underneath a giant duvet thatâs so soft you feel like you're cocooned in the clouds. Youâre subconsciously scooting yourself closer to Sy when you suddenly realize that heâs not on the side of the bed he usually sleeps onâitâs all backwardsâand your eyes pop open.Â
To your right, there he is, already awake and quietly watching television with two big pillows shoved behind his neck. As you lift your arms high above your head in an audible stretch, he looks down at you with a fond expression. âMorninâ.â
You return the greeting through a yawn. âForgot where I was for a second,â you say in a gritty voice, moving closer to him. âThought we were in bed at home.â
He lifts his arm when you match your body up with his. âOh, yeah?â
âMmhm.â You rest your face on his bare chest. âThis is nice, too.â
Trying to be lazy while you can, you close your eyes again. You have plans with your family practically all day, and all related to food: youâre having brunch with your grandparents, then a late lunch at your momâs house, and last, supper with your dad. Loosely cuddling under the covers, you and Sy are in no rush to get the day started.Â
Instead, you drink hotel coffee together, watch TV, and quietly relay last night's events, focusing on the fun times with your friends and not the other Unpleasant Thing that happened. Youâre happy that Sy seemed to hit it off with everyone so well, like he literally just fit right in. Thatâs never happened before, not so naturally. You goad him to share some of the conversations he had with the guys while you were hanging out with the girls, but heâs not very talkative about it, though, and you roll your eyes.
Afterwards, you and Sy kiss for a bit, just sleepy little closed-mouth things that donât lead anywhere though they probably could. You wouldnât have a problem with it, at least, even if itâd make you late for brunch. After watching him go all alpha-male last night, you honestly want to hop on his lap to show your gratitude. Or go to your knees. You arenât picky.
Maybe as a way to decompress from everything thatâd happened the night before, you and Sy lay around in bed way longer than usual. Finally, you have to accept that you canât stay there all day, though, and you drag yourself out from underneath the covers with a groan. While Sy continues watching the news, you shower, then do your hair and makeup, then get dressed. By the time you're almost done, Syâs just finishing his own shower, yet somehow, you're both entirely ready to head out at the same time.Â
By the hotel door, you stop in your tracks. Sy's wearing a nice-fitting pair of dark blue jeans, brown boots, and a sweater that's pushed up to both his elbows. He's holding his large jacket in one hand, showing off his watch on his wrist and cords of muscle along his forearm. Relatively speaking, itâs a nice and casual-looking outfit, but on Sy, it looks like he should be in a magazine ad or something.
Sy lifts an eyebrow. âYou alright?â
Slowly, you nod. âYou lookâŠreally good.â
Sy gives you what you've begun referring to as his Christopher Reeve smile, just a slight uptick at the side of his mouth. âWell, so do you, baby.â
You look down at yourself. You're relatively conservatively dressed in a dark long-sleeved dress and black leggings, but you don't fight the compliment.Â
âNecklace looks nice on you,â Sy murmurs next, referring to his Christmas present to you. You reach up and briefly touch it.
He reaches out and fixes the chain where the clasp has fallen from the back to the front, and as you grab your bag and your coat, thereâs probably a stupid look on your face. You feel like a real girlfriend.Â
Before Sy opens the door, you push yourself up on your tip-toes and give him a kissâthis time, drawing it out since youâve both brushed your teeth. His eyes show a little confusion at your seemingly random enthusiasm, but he doesnât speak on it.
Downstairs, you both put toboggans on and bundle up in your coats before heading outside, walking around small crowds of people who sound like home when they talk. Sy decides to take the wheel again and you just give directions, and youâre unable to stop yourself from pointing out more things to him throughout the drive. Where you used to gather to watch fireworks as a child, where you went caroling one time with your first-grade classmates, where your mom got pulled over one time and whisper-yelled at you to put on your seatbelt before the officer came to her window.
âWhere're we goinâ, anyway?â Sy asks. âYour grandparentsâ house?â
âOh, no, the Cracker Barrel,â you answer. âIt's Nanny's favorite. Sheâs obsessed. Growinâ up, weâd go there on just about every special occasion.â
âYeah?â Sy offers another one of those small smiles. âMawMaw, too.â
âNow she goes there every single Sunday after church.â
âMawMaw would do that, too, if we had one close enough.â
You hum. âI bet theyâd get along real well,â you imagine quietly.Â
You spend the rest of the drive mentally picturing your family members in the same room as Syâs family members. What would they say? How would they act? Would they get along as well as Sy had with your group of friends? You have a feeling they would. Well, everyone except for your dad, at leastâbut heâs ornery and doesnât count.
After arriving at the restaurant, Sy finds a parking space and turns off the car, and you give him a tentative smile before getting out. You really hope heâs not internally dreading this.Â
Together, you make your way through the chilly parking lot to the front entrance, and a nearby voice calling your name makes you pause. There in a set of rocking chairs sit your grandparents, and you almost gasp.Â
âYâall, itâs freezinâ right now,â you say, almost chiding. âI thought yâallâd be waitinâ inside, not out here.â
Your grandpa gets up first, so you hug him first, and after he helps your grandma stand up, you hug her next. âNanny, your hands are seriously like ice.â
âOh, tell me about it.â Your grandma squeezes you through a long hug and then kisses your cheek. âIt's so cold the chickens are lininâ up to get in the oven,â she says before giving your grandpa a look, âbut your grandfather wanted to sit out here, so.â
âAw, it ainât that cold,â your grandpa counters, but their bickering is friendly, so you grin and step back to Syâs side.
You donât have to introduce Sy; in moments, heâs introducing himself, giving your grandfather a firm handshake and your grandmother something more light.Â
âWell, itâs sure nice to meetcha,â your grandma says, and Sy returns the sentiment before opening the entrance door for everyone while simultaneously taking off his hat.
In the restaurantâs foyer, Nanny gets close to you before Sy is able to step inside. âWell, heâs a right catch,â she whispers to you, and you grin. âHowâd you even meet a man like that?â
You want to laugh; the words could easily sound like sheâs meanly saying heâs out of your leagueâwhich he isâbut from her, the question is just funny. You think of the night of the bonfire where youâd almost face-planted into the flames. âUhâŠIt just sortaâŠfell in place.â
She takes one of your hands in hers and then covers the top of it with her other hand, softly tapping. You interpret the gesture to be her saying something like Iâm happy for you, orâmaybe, but hopefully notâdonât mess this up.
Your grandparents are salt-of-the-earth type of people, welcoming and friendly and maybe a little embarrassingâbut in a cute way. In true Appalachian style, they honestly speak whateverâs on their mind and have sayings for just about everything, jokes for just about everything, too. Conversation flows easily while you place your orders and wait around for your food to come out, and once it does, everythingâs just as natural.Â
Itâs easy because your grandpa loves talking and telling jokes. Sports and the military are the commonality between him and Sy, so just with that, they bond. Then with your grandma so outwardly curious about Syâalmost to the point of being smittenâshe asks question after question after question, keeping any silence sparse. You donât even get to actually catch up with her about how sheâs been recovering from her recent hospital stay or about any of the things going on in your life until youâre outside, prolonging your goodbyes.
âYouâre visitinâ your momma after this?â Nanny asks after sharing some of her ongoing medical issues as if discussing the weather.
You nod. âShame yâall couldnât make it to her place. We couldâve all just eaten together. Or I guess we couldâve invited her here.â
âWell, Iâve been keepinâ my distance this week,â she evasively says.
âOh, good grief,â you mutter. âWhat are yâall arguinâ about now?â
âWeâre not arguinâ,â your grandma says, and your grandpa makes some sort of face behind her back. âBut you know how your mom is. She runs around like a chicken with its head cut offââ again with the chicken analogiesâ âbut itâs just like sheâs movinâ around all the time without ever gettinâ anything done.â
âOkay,â you slowly say. Whereâs the lie? â...And?â
âThatâs it,â your grandma laughs. âI said somethinâ about how sheâs gonna stroke out one of these days, and she got upset.â
âJeez,â you reply. âBut you of all people know sheâs always been like that, though. Us cominâ to visit right after Christmas probably has her stressinâ.âÂ
âHoney, you got no idea. Stressinâ about the food, stressinâ about the house, stressinâ about what outside her house looks like. Iâve had to hear it for weeks. Now if it was her cominâ over to my house to visit, donât matter how long itâs been, sheâd just have to deal with what itâs like when she got there.â
You frown. âPoor Mom. I just wanted to visit her, notâŠcause some sorta issue between yâall.â
âIf sheâd just take her medicine,â your grandma mutters. âBut thatâs apparently outta the question. Itâs either that it makes her stomach hurt, or her head hurt, or she has to take it with food and doesnât feel like eatinâ, on and on.â
You want to comment on how accurate all of those things technically are, but thereâd be no point. Your grandma was raised in a different generation, thatâs all. She just doesnât get it. You quickly brush aside the fact that sheâd probably judge you, too, for worrying the way you do.Â
But sheâd say it to your face, at least. Thereâd be no behind-the-back gossiping.Â
âNanny, sheâBe nice. She canât help it.â
Your grandmaâs eyebrows briefly scrunch together in a very worried expression, and she ultimately sighs. âI just want her well. I love her. And I love you, too, honey,â she says before giving you a hug, and then she reaches into her pocket and not-discreetly-at-all slips you a folded up green bill.Â
You huff. âNanny.â
âMerry Christmas,â she just says, ignoring you, then she steps towards Sy and actually hugs him, too. âNow, Iâm gonna have me some beautiful great-grandchildren one day, I just know it.â
Your mouth falls open. âOh, my God, Nanny,â you utter in mortification, but Sy just chuckles, giving her a warm smile.Â
âIf they get Y/Nâs genes,â is his quick reply, and while the area fills with light laughter, your face heats up so much you could probably start sweating, right out here in the cold mountain air.Â
âNice meetinâ you,â your grandpa tells Sy, shaking his hand again, then he turns his attention to you. âWell, doll baby, donât be a stranger.â
âI wonât,â you promise. âBut I didnât even get to talk to you, I feel.â
âOh, Iâm just a borinâ old man,â he brushes off. âAnything worth knowinâ, your Nannyâll tell you.â
You laugh and reach up your arms to hug him, taking in the old-man cologne heâs worn forever. âYou make sure he treats you right or you call me,â he whispers into your ear, inconstruable to anyone else.
When you take a step back, you just look at him and offer a small nod. âLove you, Paw.â
âLove you, doll baby,â he parrots. âYâall drive safe.â
âYes, sir,â Sy answers, and he lifts a casual hand to wave goodbye.
And like that, youâre on your way back to the car, comfortably full after a nice warm meal. When youâre alone in the car waiting for the engine to heat up, you look at Sy expectantly.Â
âWhatâdju think?â you ask. âIt wasnât horrible, right?â
He grins. âTheyâre good people.â
âThey got weird at the end there,â you mumble around a fingertip in your mouth. âOr Nanny did, at least. I promise sheâs not a mean person or anything. Sheâs just really blunt.â
Sy shrugs. âI didnât get the impression sheâs mean at all. Sorta reminded me of MawMaw.â
Your muscles relax as you lean back against the seat, but you feel like your shoulders are clenched for some reason. You drop your hand from your mouth and try to lower your arms to loosen up, then you keep just sitting there while waiting for Sy to move the car. Apparently, there must be a look on your face because Sy stalls exiting the parking lot in favor of just staring at you. You turn your head inquisitively.
âYou good?â
âYeah, Iâm fine,â you reply right away.Â
That answer would satisfy most people, but Syâs not most people. âWhatâre you nervous about?â
You shrug. âI really donât know,â you let out, trying to chuckle at yourself and failing. âIâm keyed up for some reason. Like, my muscles are all tight. And my heart just started thumping. It makes no sense.â
âWanna go back outside?â
You shake your head. âIâll breathe through it.â
Sy rolls down your window half-way anyway and patiently waits while you begin taking deep breaths.
âI feel likeâI feel like my body thinks something bad is going to happen for some reason.â You bring your thumbnail back up to your lips and begin chewing on the nail. âDoes that make sense?â
Sy reaches out and coaxes you to stop biting your nails and he holds your hand with his. âPerfect sense.â
You glance at him dubiously because what you just said did not make sense, and you know it. âAre you just sayinâ that?â
âMy job used to literally be waitinâ around for somethinâ bad to happen,â he reminds you.Â
âOh. Right.â
Sy puts his hand on the top of your leg. âEverythingâs safe,â he says.Â
You take a slow, deep breath. âYeah,â you agree.
âYouâre with me.â
You nod. âIâm with you,â you exhale. âRight.â
âWhen youâre with me, youâre safe.â
Not caring how childish it may be, you soundlessly repeat that sentence to yourself again, and then again. Everything else dissolves away, because itâs simple: when youâre with Sy, youâre safe.Â
You finally feel normality come back like paint being poured on you from above. You shake out your arms a little, take a few more deep breaths, and thenâitâs like nothing had even happened.Â
âOkay,â you mutter. âIâm good.â
God, youâre so fucking weird.Â
Sy squeezes your leg and then moves his hand to the back of your neck where he keeps it for the next few quiet moments. âWhat do you think was the trigger?â
âI really donât know,â you honestly say, and you give Sy an almost helpless look. âBut Iâm okay now.â
He keeps his eyes focused on you, and satisfied with whatever expressionâs on your face, he squeezes your neck one last time and then drops his hand to the gear-stick. âAlright.â
As he reverses and looks over his shoulder, he stretches out his right arm along the back of the passenger seat, and you use the opportunity to take in how hot he looks while doing it. Yeah, youâre doing it to keep your mind single-focused on just one thing lest the random panic come back, but in no time, you donât have to focus on trying to focus. Itâs Sy.
When he moves his hand to the gear-stick again, your eyes follow the motion, a little chill running through you at the confident way he puts the car into drive, at the Iâm in control of this car vibe that heâs exuding. At the youâre okay âcause youâre with me vibe from the ghost of his hand on your neck.
âY/N,â you hear, and you flick up your eyes to Syâs. He looks at the road briefly and then back at you.
âYouâve been zoninâ out over there,â he says. âYou sure youâre good?â
Your eyes widen for a second, but you smile, almost laughing at yourself. âTotally fine, sorry. Didnât mean toâŠbe strange. I was just watchinâ you.â Like that didnât come out weird as shit.Â
He comes to a stop-light and lifts an eyebrow. You laugh while rolling up your window.
âYour hands are big, shut up,â you just mutter. âYou need to turn left here, by the way.â
Heâs got a smug smile on his face as he asks, âGoinâ to your momâs now?â
You shake your head. âNot yet. We donât have to get there âtil, like, two-thirty. I wanna show you a place first.â
âWhat kinda place?â
You twist your body to face him. âAre you up for a little walk?â you ask.Â
-O-
Thirty minutes later, you and Sy find yourselves sitting together on a giant log. The walk is a little longer than just a regular stroll, and there are hills and patches of snow everywhere to deal with, but you find the destination to be worth it.Â
The fallen tree trunk, huge enough to even not be decayed by now, is the aftermath of a nasty storm long ago. It rests on a relatively flattened patch of dead grass, and youâd discovered it while hiking one day in high school. Thatâs when youâd realized that beyond it is the perfect hidden overlook of the mountain ranges nearbyâjust like those overlooks on the sides of interstate highways where people stop and stand around taking pictures.Â
But this view isnât to be shared. Itâs yours.Â
The mountains ahead are rolling and expansive, full of dark green pines topped with white snow too stubborn to melt, and all around you are a ton of trees and rocks. Technically, the spot is actually dangerous if you were to walk too far ahead of the log, but thatâs another reason you like it: no one else would be stupid enough to spend time here if they didnât want to slide down the mountain.Â
âI used to come out here when I wanted to be alone,â you finally speak up. âThis was my spot.â
Sy looks around. âItâs serene.â
âItâs actually really ugly right now,â you admit with a dry chuckle. âBetter in the spring and summer. Or fall. Literally any other time but now.â
Sy softly chuckles back but maintains that he likes the view. For a while, you both just sit there, looking around and taking everything in. He keeps his arm wrapped around you, and after you snuggle close to him, you barely talk. With your head resting on his shoulder, you both justâŠexist together.Â
The wind is neither fast nor loud today, so when you feel a quick cold gust of high-pitched air touch your faces and then breeze around to touch the trees around you next, itâs almost like natureâs recognizing your presence in this one particular spot. Like itâs approving that this is now Syâs spot, too. He's not out of place in your hometown.
Eventually, itâs time to get out of the cold and start actually heading to your momâs place, though, and you leisurely make your way back to the car while giving Sy a rundown of what to expect from your momâa lot of outwardly expressed anxiety and sort of neurotic behavior, a lot of talking, but a matching amount of genuine care and thoughtfulness, as well.
As it goes, your mom is already at the front door when Sy pulls up in the driveway, her excitement and nerves evident: sheâs smiling, but she keeps smoothing her hands over invisible wrinkles on top of her pants. As you approach the door, though, she holds her arms wide open, and you embrace as long as possible with a bag of presents in one hand.Â
Close behind you, Sy takes the bag out of your hand, and you instantly hug your mom strongly, breathing in her familiar scent. âHeyyy, Momma.â
She makes a noise as she rocks you side to side a bit and then steps back. âItâs so good to see you,â she says, then her eyes light up when she looks behind you. âAnd you must beâŠSy, right? Thatâs what you go by?â
âYes, maâam,â he answers.
âOh, you donât have to call me that,â she laughs. âMakes me feel so old.â
Syâs just holding out his hand when your mom raises both of her arms, her intent obvious, and you take a step aside to let them hug. You meet Syâs eyes while they briefly embrace, and you smirk a little while raising your eyebrows, giving him a look that says, This is just how she is.
âCome in, come in, get out of the cold, yâall. And donât look at too muchâthis place is such a mess,â she says while leading you both into the entirely clean living room. The air smells like lemon cleaner and garlic chicken.
You and Sy take off your jackets, and after you drape one over the loveseat thatâs directly to the right of the door, Sy follows suit. Instantly, your mom picks up both coats and opens the closet door directly to your left, and she hangs them up. Youâd say something sarcastic to her, but sheâd take it as you making fun of her, so you donât.
âAre you already cookinâ?â you ask.
âYeah,â she answers a little breathlessly as she shuts the closet door, âbut I donât know how good itâs gonna be. Iâm tryinâ a new recipe, and you know what they say about that.â
Briefly, you look to the side. âWhat do they say?â
âNot to try a new recipe when youâre feedinâ people,â she answers like itâs obvious.Â
âOh, just try it out when youâre alone,â you tease, and she nods.
âIâve gotta check on the chicken real quick,â she says, and she starts walking towards the kitchen. âExcuse me just a second, please. Yâall just make yourselves right at home.â
Sy looks at you. âSheâs cute.â
âSheâs a mess,â you murmur back, smiling.Â
The house is pretty small, just a regular little ranch-style home. Down the hallway leading left, there are a few small bedrooms and one sole bathroom. The living area, dining area, and kitchen are all in one big rectangle shape with a little L-shaped wall separating the kitchen from the main space. Sy is instantly a huge presence in this space.
A console table is to your immediate left, and on the TV, your mom has the Pandora app open playing a Traditional Christmas channel. You smile to yourself as you carry her presents to the little artificial tree sheâs kept up beside the dining room table.
âWould yâall like anything to drink?â your mom asks from the kitchenâs doorway. âWhat can I get yâall? Thereâre waters in the fridge in here, and I made a pot of coffee earlier, too, if youâd like that.â
âSure,â you answer, knowing that, despite your lack of thirst, if you were to decline, itâd hurt her feelings. âCoffeeâs fine. I can pour it.â
âNoâsit, sit,â she says, and then she looks at Sy. âAre you a coffee drinker?â
âYesâprobâly too much,â he answers, and you can tell by the little quirk of his mouth that heâs trying to remember not to say maâam.Â
âOh, tell me about it,â she replies while walking through the living room. âDoesnât matter the time of day, Iâve got coffee at the ready.â
Your mom starts brushing invisible fibers off the couchâs seats and then again on the perpendicular loveseat. You can tell sheâs happy when Sy sits down on the couch, and you take the spot directly beside him.Â
âThese new pillows look good,â you comment.
âOh, theyâre kinda raggedy now,â she says. âI got them the other year at the after-Christmas sale down the road. You know they still have wrappinâ paper and all types of stuff for less than a dollar? And all sortsa cute decorations, too. Oh, I just miss when you were little. There were all types of crafts for kids at the store the last time I went, like those ornaments you made from clay in second grade. You remember?âÂ
She walks to the Christmas tree and takes an ornament off, holding it up with a grin. âIsnât that so cute?â She turns it around. âWith the year on the back, look. You had your numbers backwards, but itâs still just so adorable.â
âTalented second-grader,â Sy remarks, and you gently elbow him.
âI can't believe you still have that.â
ââCourse I do,â your mom replies. âI've got totes in the basement full of stuff. Art projects, report cards, all that. Plus about twenty photo albums in the closet over there. You just might catch me gettinâ âem out to show Sy.â
You groan. âOh, please don't.â
As your mom walks off to the kitchen laughing, you lean in closer to Sy and lower your voice. âShe seriously drinks about a pot or more to herself every day,â you whisper, trying to explain that her energy right now is a mixture of caffeine and pure anxiety. Not that sheâs anxious that youâre here or anything, but anxious that sheâs the one whoâs hosting. She wants everything to be perfect.
She calls out your nickname, and you look up. âI can never remember what you can and canât have,â she sticks her head around the corner and says. âNo milk, right?â
âRight,â you remind her.Â
âI picked up lactose-free milk at the store if you want that?â
You make a guilty face. âAw, Momma, you didnât have to go out of your way to buy that,â you tell her. âBut itâs not the lactose that Iâthereâs an actual protein in the milk that I canâtâŠAnyway, Iâm so sorry, but I canât have that, either.â
âOh, okay,â she says. âSy? Is it okay that I keep callinâ you that?â
âYes,â he answers, his lips pulling together after the word as if heâs about to make the âmâ sound. âSyâs just fine.â
âHow do you like your coffee?â
âBlack, please.â
âYuck,â she says good-naturedly. She smiles widely, making you and Sy smile in return. Youâve missed her.
Your mom brings out two cups of coffee at once, and before setting them down, you reach over Sy to get coasters from the side table before she says something. You and Sy thank her at the same time, and though the coffee is still pretty hot, you take a small sip because you know your mom wonât settle down unless you confirm that what sheâd prepared for you isnât outright garbage.
âToo sweet?â she asks.Â
âNo, itâs great,â you reply honestly, and then she mutters something to herself and goes back into the kitchen.Â
When she returns, itâs with a platter of chips, peanuts, crackers, and cheese, all divided into little sections. She sets it out on the coffee table in front of you and then returns with a second platter a few moments later thatâs full of fruit. Youâre excitedly popping a pineapple chunk in your mouth when you hear some sort of alarm go off in the kitchen.Â
Your mom holds up a finger before stepping away. âOpe, one sec.â
She misses the way you heavily sigh. âIâm gonna be right back,â you tell Sy before standing up and walking into the kitchen.Â
âWhat can I help with?â you stand in front of the stove and ask, starting to stir a pot of greens.
âOh, please, Y/N/N,â she says in a low voice, âI just want yâall to enjoy yourselves.â
âUh, no,â you instantly reply. âYouâve got, like, five different things goinâ on at once. Did you plan to send us home with leftovers or somethinâ?â
âYour boyfriendâs out there alone,â she deflects.
âI think heâll manage my absence for a few minutes.â You pop your head around the wall and call out to Sy, âYou wonât die of loneliness if I help Momma finish up in here for a little bit, will you?â
He smirks, and you smirk back.Â
You walk back to the stove. âHe said just five minutes âcause then heâll start witherinâ away.â
âOh, Y/N/N, stop pickinâ on me.â
Youâre taller than your mother is, so you step behind her and give her a hug, then a kiss on the cheek. âStop carryinâ the world on your shoulders,â you let go of her and say, almost bullying your way to be in front of the stove alongside her.
Quietly and efficiently, you both move around each other in the kitchenâopening cabinets to get last-minute add-on spices, pulling stuff out the fridge, draining pots at the sink. When youâre done, you put your hands on your momâs shoulders and lead her into the living room.Â
âTake a seat,â you tell her. âRelax.â
She laughs at your command. âThis is my house, Y/N.â
âSo, sit down.â
She moves as if about to go back into the kitchen. âWhy donât you give Sy a tour and Iâll get this stuff ready to present at the table?â
âReady to present?â you ask. âWeâll just stand in front of the stove and pile our plates with whatever we want, itâs fine.â
Stubbornly, she says on her way to the kitchen, âIâll set the table in a bit.â
You roll your eyes then look at Sy. âWanna grand tour?â
He stands up with a grunt. âLead the way, babe.â
On your way down the humble and short hall, you point at the doorways you see and label each room while slowly walking. âThis is a small bedroom used as an officeâŠ. the bathroomâs here⊠Another bedroom actually used as a bedroomâŠand then thisââ You open the last door on your right and step insideâ âis me.â
Sy enters behind you and starts looking all around, eyes mainly lifted upwards at all the random stuff covering the walls. Mainly, there are posters of various rock bands, and while examining them, heâs quiet, but heâs smiling.Â
âWere you expectinâ sparkles and pink?â
His smile turns into a grin. âI know you better than that,â he mutters as he starts walking towards your dresser. Stopping just before the mirror there, he takes in all of the small photos, movie stubs, and random notes you have displayed around its perimeter.
You chuckle. âOh yeah?â
âMmhm.â
âThis room hasnât changed since I was in high school,â you tell him before sitting on your bed, âso itâs basically a time-capsule. Donât judge.â
Sy sits beside you a moment later, making the mattress dip with his weight, and next, he begins thoroughly observing your blanket and pillows. âI wouldnât even be able to fit on this thing without my feet hanginâ off the end.â
âYeah.â You smile. âIf weâdâa stayed here instead of the hotel, it wouldâve been a tight squeeze at night, huh?â
Sy lewdly wags his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes through a poorly hidden smile. Before going into some crass joke that you know is on the tip of his tongue, Sy reaches out for a thick yearbook on your bookshelf instead.
âOh, câmon,â you mumble once he starts thumbing through it.
âI showed you old pictures of me,â he reminds you.Â
You huff. âFine.â
As your school was relatively small, Sy finds your photo fairly easily. âWhatâs wrong with this?â he turns the book around and says.Â
âOh, God. The hair, the over-plucked eyebrows, the shirt choice?â you say. âAll of it combined?â
He grins. âI woulda hit on you so hard.â
âOh, please. Yeah, right.â
âSay what I mean,â he almost sing-songs.Â
Letting Sy into this space feels intimate, almost as intimate as it had when first letting him in your bedroom back in Georgia. It feels like you could reach for an invisible zipper at your throat and start unpeeling your skin to bare your blood and your veins and your organs and bones, with your biggest vulnerability right there front and center: your heart.Â
Maybe thatâs why you were a little anxious earlier today after parting ways with your grandparents. Maybe youâre so used to boyfriends judging or rejecting your family that it has your nervous system anticipating the pattern to continue or something.
 âŠAnd having Sy in your hometownâyour place with your people and all your history, embarrassing or notâthatâs probably a factor, too. Like maybe, somehow, Virginia Y/N is different than Georgia Y/N, and your subconscious mind is sounding out, He wonât want you when he sees your roots! He wonât love you anymore!
Logically, you talk yourself through those intrusive thoughts like youâve begun practicing with all the rest. Sy would never do that. Thereâd be no reason.Â
There was a reason Michael rejected your family; youâd just figured it out way too late. He was jealous of them and the time they got with you, and pushing them out of your life by saying they âdidnât deserve youâ was a way to manipulate you so he could continue to keep you reliant on just him.Â
Now, you almost laugh at that thought. You werenât reliant on him for anythingâfinancial, emotional, or otherwiseâand looking back at how you were back then compared to how you are now⊠Youâre kind of proud of yourself.Â
Youâve just got to get your nervous system on track.Â
You deeply inhale and then exhale, formally breathing out the bullshit, and by that time, Syâs already going through an entirely different yearbook. When he stops at a page full of formal-looking photographs, you realize he must be looking at your senior pictures. Wordlessly, you both glance down to find your photo.Â
Once you both spot your teenage self, it gets so quiet that it actually becomes loud, and you want Sy to say something. Instead, he keeps looking at your picture. In the distance, your mother calls out, âCome on and get it!âÂ
Sy closes the heavy book on his lap, and you glance at him almost expressionless. Heâs gigantic on this bed of yours, his widely-spread muscular legs only adding to his broadness. After sliding your yearbook back on the bookshelf, Syâtall and beefy Sy, military-hair and big-bearded Syâturns to you with soft eyes. He reaches out and brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek. âYouâre pretty.â
Your face does something odd in response, but mostly it just heats up. âThanks,â you murmur.Â
Slowly, you both stand up. Sy places an unnecessary yet appreciated hand on your lower back while you step back out into the hallway, and then in about ten more strides, you get to the dining table.Â
Your mom has it set up like Thanksgiving. Sheâs put the leaf in the middle to elongate it, and sheâs covered it with a dark tablecloth. In between the three plates that are set out with silverware carefully placed on cloth napkins, there are several bowls of food with large spoons stuck inside. In the middle of the table is the roasted chicken on a large serving dish.
Thereâs a little ooh-and-ahhing from you at the presentation of all the delicious-looking food, and you excitedly sit down, almost wiggling in your chair like an excited child. Your momâs done good; you can eat almost everything sheâs cooked. You thank her profusely, and Sy politely does, as well. When you glance at him and notice him practically salivating at the mouth, you soundlessly laugh at him.
Sy slices the chicken and places pieces on your mom's plate, then yours, and lastly his own. Covering your plates with the rest of the food takes some time, but when everything's been salted and peppered and everyone's finally digging in, your mom starts making conversation in between bites.Â
She looks at Sy and asks, âSo, are you originally from Georgia?â
Sy nods. âBorn and raised,â he answers, and if this were you meeting Syâs mother, youâd probably be so nervous that youâd leave it at that, but Syâs Sy, so of course he goes on.Â
âMy entire familyâs from Georgia, actuallyâmy mommaâs side and my dadâs side. My grandma actually got into genealogy a few years back and traced back our ancestors to modern-day Germany and Denmark, then some Wales, southern England, Scottland.â
âOh, thatâs so fascinating,â she replies. âI've always wanted to get that done. All I know is my side is Scots-Irish, but itâd be neat to really delve into all that, you know? To get the stories these people had.â
You slyly glance underneath the Christmas tree where you have a 23-And-Me kit wrapped up for her, and you smile to yourself.Â
âYes, maâam,â he agrees, almost mindlessly.
âOh, you stop,â your mom says through a smile. âSo, I imagine youâve had to move around a lot with the military, right?â
âRight,â he answers. âEspecially on active duty, but even then, it was pretty steady, at least. A move maybe once every two years or so. I got lucky to be stationed in Georgia towards the end of my time, then I just headed back to my hometown after that.â
âI really need to go down there and see it for myself,â your mom says. âAll this time and I still havenât gone. Maybe Iâve been waitinâ on Y/N to move back, but I guess that wonât happen now, huh?â
She laughs while Sy smiles, and meanwhile you push down niggling thoughts about how sheâs had tons of opportunities to visit you in the past two years if only sheâd wanted to. But itâs really not a big deal. Sheâs being good-natured about it.Â
âThink Iâll be stayinâ there for good, Momma,â you confirm. She looks between you and Sy with a soft smile on her face while yours heats up. Under the table, you feel Sy's boot touch your shoe.Â
Conversation flows as you continue eating. Your mom is sincerely interested in Sy, and you watch her facial expressions while they talk to guess what sheâs thinking of him. Once he makes her laughâreally laugh, her loud and expressive oneâthen you know heâs in. She loves him already. Sheâs probably gonna tell him that when you have to leave.
After eating, Sy puts his hands on his stomach and thanks your mom once again. âThat was the best meal Iâve had in a long time,â he looks at her and compliments. âThanks for allâa this. Youâre a great cook.â
You glance at him, and you know heâs not bullshitting. âNever wondered where I got it from?â you ask him, and though itâs obviously meant to be funny, your mom instantly starts chiding herself for not teaching you to cook the way her mom had taught her.Â
Itâs nothing you havenât heard before; she likes to take blame for your disinterest in cooking. âSy likes cookinâ, and heâs really good at it,â you explain. âI clean up after. Itâs a good arrangement.â
âBut still, Y/N/Nââ
You interrupt her with a sigh. âI can cook just fine, Mom.â
âWeâve actually been makinâ supper together most nights, here lately,â Sy speaks up. âBreakfast, too.â
Softly smiling at him, you joke, âJust gotta work on my mid-day meals, huh.â
After that, your mom offers dessert and another cup of coffee for each of you. While Sy eats a giant heap of cobbler, you drink some more coffee, and your mother graciously only shares a few stories from your childhood. At some point, you stand up to stretch, and you end up clearing some plates off the table to help your mom out. That causes Sy to quickly finish his food and mirror your actions, and together, you both work efficiently enough that your mom doesnât have to carry anything to the kitchen.
She still starts washing all the dirty dishes, of course, and you try to butt in the best you can to make her stop. Itâs futile, though, so you just grab a dishtowel and dry off what she washes. Meanwhile, Sy scoops leftovers into Tupperware bowls, and you catch his eye and mouth âearning those Mom pointsâ at him.Â
Later on, you all open presents in the living room while Christmas music still plays in the background. With every present that is distributed, your mom has some sort of explanation before itâs unwrapped. For Sy, the Amazon gift card is only because she didnât know what else heâd like, and sheâs so sorry that thereâs nothing else for him to open.
âI wasnât even expectinâ anything at all,â Sy graciously deflects. âIâll definitely be able to use this. Thank you.â
For your first present, your mom has to mention before you open it that sheâs still got the receipt in case you want to return it.
âIâm not gonna return it, Momma,â you chuckle without even knowing whatâs inside the box. âIâve literally never returned any gift youâve ever gotten me my entire life.â
âWell, you never knowââ
You interrupt her by tearing the wrapping paper and then carefully opening the box. You look down at a gorgeous shirt and instantly smile. âAw. This is really nice.â
ââCause you said your job has you goinâ to court sometimes.â
âYeah,â you murmur. âYou remembered.â
You and your mom take turns opening gifts, but youâd gotten her a lot of little things this year, so she has more to go through. âWell, I feel awful that yâall are just sittinâ here watchinâ me open these all alone.â
âNah, you deserve it,â you tell her, and youâre happy to see her excited expression when opening the DNA ancestry kit and the other little sentimental items youâd gotten her.
Only after cleaning up the wrapping paper on the floor is your mom able to truly relax. Now that she doesnât feel like she has to wear her Host hat, she finally leans back on the loveseat and starts browsing through different channels. You and Sy take spots at the couch again, and you feel like you could take a nap.
âYou're goinâ to see your father after this?â your mom asks.Â
âYeah,â you say with no hint of excitement. âGonna leave here in, like, thirty, forty minutes. Texted him earlier so we could meet up for dinner.â
âYou're goinâ out?â
âHe didn't want to,â you reply, and your mom makes a face that says âwhat's new?âÂ
You strategically comment on whatever your mom has gotten interested in on TV, and that easily leads to a brand new topic of conversation. She talks, and she talks, and you just watch her.
It's nice to be with her in person to hear her talk instead of just listening through a phone.
-O-
After a prolonged goodbye at your momâs house thatâs full of half-a-dozen hugs and an almost endless amount of thanking one another back and forth, you find yourself behind the wheel of the car. You're the one driving now because going up the mountain your dad lives off makes you a little nauseous if youâre a passenger. Sy says he'll take one for the team this time and just throw up out the window if it happens to him, too.
You donât talk much on the drive to your dadâs house; your mind is loud enough for both of you. Sy glances at you from time to time, but you donât give much away. Heâs about to meet the most difficult person in your life.
Why did you plan this visit as your last one of the day? Why hadnât you done it earlier, gotten it out the way first?
You try not to let any negativity consume you as you take winding turn after turn. After the road changes to gravel and finally straightens out a little, you take your last turnâthe turn to his long lane. Going down the long, inclined path, you realize there are ruts everywhere, making the car bounce. You cuss under your breath about popping a tire.
âFeel right at home on this road here,â Sy jokes.
âI hate this road,â you grumble. Underneath the trees lay patches of snow that the sun has never touched, and theyâre gonna get iced over when the sun goes down.
Sy gives you a little more quiet time before checking in. âYou donât seem too thrilled to be goinâ here.â
Understatement. âYeah, well. My dad isâŠcomplicated.â
â...Meaning?â
You sigh. You havenât really talked much about your dad with Sy, only that he and your mother divorced after he left her for this woman he dated in high school. Now theyâre split up, too, and he lives alone like a hermit on the top of the mountain.
âHeâs just not a really welcoming person,â you explain. âNot to me, not to anyone, hardly. Heâs antisocial. So, uh. Just please donât get offended or anything if he kinda comes across like a dick. I really donât want you to be scared off.â
âAinât possible.â
You side-eye him. âI wasnât jokinâ when I said heâs antisocial,â you comment. âThis is about as far out as you can even get in the county. He has no neighbors. Heâs happy to just be up here all alone.â
âNo pets?â
You shake your head. âNot anymore.â
By the time you get to your dadâs property, the sun has dropped low, filtering through all the trees. You turn off the car and look outside the window. With green moss coating the outside paneling, your fatherâs trailer appears dirtier than the last time you saw it. You make no move to step out.
âWell, this is it,â you quietly mutter.
Sy puts a hand on your shoulder. âYou okay?â
With a frown, you shrug. After glancing away from the trailer, you can barely look up from the steering wheel.
âYou know I ainât judginâ.â
âItâs okay to, though,â you murmur. âToâjudge. Youâd be right.â
âRight about what?â
âI donât know.â
Your dad isnât a dirty person or anything, but thatâs not to say heâs neat. Heâs messy, and he says thereâs a distinction. Three cars are off to the side, all in random states of disrepair. In front of them is a rusty burn barrel. Your father seems to have no issues living out in the woods alone in what could practically be considered a camper.
After stepping up onto his little stoop, you knock on the thin door and wait for it to open. When it doesnât, you jiggle the handle and, finding it unlocked, push it open.
âDad?â you loudly call out, waiting for any type of movement inside. âItâs Y/N!â
You briefly look back at Sy and then take a step forward into the living room.
âHey, you in here?â you call out again. âDad!â
Your dad rounds the corner while wiping off his hands on his jeans. âOh, there you are,â he says.
You slightly smile. âYeah, we made it.â
Without hugging, you both just look at one another. You step fully inside to get out of the cold, shifting to allow Sy to enter behind you, and once he closes the door, the three of you stand around for a few moments, silent. Your father scratches his arm.
Youâre about to introduce Sy when you hesitate, not knowing how heâll want to be introducedâhis first name or just simply âSyâ--but he thankfully takes initiative to handle that on his own.
After reaching out his hand, Sy says his name, and your dad remains still for a moment. âSo. Youâre with my daughter,â your dad comments.
âYes, sir. Nice to meetcha,â he replies while dropping his hand to his side, and you almost snicker out loud. Of course Syâs showing his manners. And your dad is just hereâŠexisting. As tall as Sy is yet with none of the muscle mass, they both remain eye-level with each other.Â
Well, the moment couldnât get more awkward, so you begin absentmindedly looking around. In the nearby kitchen, fly-tape hangs from the ceiling above the sink. Lingering in the air is a strange stench, the kind of smell when things havenât been moved around or aired out enough. The odor of stagnation.
You grit your teeth. Syâs quiet, probably waiting on a cue from you. You both slide your jackets off and drape them over the nearest piece of furniture you can find, a small table near the door covered already with a bunch of envelopes and pieces of paper.Â
âSo,â you look at your dad and speak up, âhowâs it been goinâ?â
âNot bad,â he answers with a shrug. âNot much ever goinâ on âround here.â
âHavenât gotten any work lately or anything?â you ask since he mainly makes his living doing under-the-table odd jobs.
âNah, not in the winter, no.â
âAh.â
Your dad wonât keep the conversation going by reflecting any questions back to you, you know. No âHowâs work been goinâ for you?â or anything like that. Maybe later on heâll ask a thing or two about what youâve been up to in general, but right now heâs clearly being the same antisocial man as he always is. And even though youâd internally hoped that heâd be different upon first meeting your boyfriend, you knew somewhere deep down he wouldnât be. Your decision to not talk him up to Sy was for the best, you guess. Youâll let Sy make his own opinions.
Thereâs a couch and a recliner in the corner of the living room area that youâre already standing in, but you donât make your way there to sit. Itâd just be a continuation of awkward silences with only the drone of the television to fill.
âSo, uh, what do you think we should do for supper?â you ask. Having something to actually do while being around each other would probably make this whole thing more bearable.Â
Your dad goes to the refrigerator and pulls out a tray of raw, seasoned chunks of meat. âI was just gonna throw some steaks on the grill.â
Thereâs a small pause, and Sy sharply glances at you. You minutely shake your head, telling him not to say anything.
âNeed any help?â Sy asks right as youâre interrupting with, âYou sure you donât wanna go out somewhere in town?â
âWell, you already went anâ drove up the mountain,â your dad says.
âYeah, âcauseââ You cut yourself off, looking around the kitchen. Thereâs nothing in the oven or on the stove-top. âWhat else did you wanna have? With the steak?â
He shrugs and begins heading for the door thatâs in the middle of the hallway, the one that opens up to the back side of his property. His little grill is out there. âIâll see what I got in a minute.â
The second heâs outside, you swear under your breath. âJesus Christ.â
Sy looks at you. âThink thereâs anything in here you can actually eat?â
âItâs fine,â you deflect, and beside you, Sy heavily inhales through his nostrils.
Knowing Syâs body language very well by now, you get the silent impression that heâs starting to feel over-protective over you, and you hope this night isnât a fucking disaster because of your fatherâs bad attitude and apathy. You donât want it to be a thing. Your dad is just like this. You remember being younger and not having solid plans on what meals youâd be eating on a day-to-day basis, too. Itâs fine.
You take a few steps into the kitchen and open some cabinets. There, you find random canned items and a bunch of packets of instant meals. Out of everything, you determine that you can eat corn, baked beans, and oatmeal. You look in the fridge next. Itâs sparse in there, as well, mainly full of condiments and beer, but you spot a container of eggs that may look promising.Â
âIf I make eggs,â you start, âthat wouldnât be the worst thing in the world to have with steak, right?â
âIâd eat it,â Sy says, and you roll your eyes.Â
âYouâd eat it, or would it taste okay together?â
âSteak and eggs go together, sure,â he reassures, even putting a light hand on the small of your back.
âOkay, and baked beans, too?â
You feel Syâs thumb begin to gently rub circles on your back. âThink we can rustle up somethinâ edible with that.â
So. Beans and eggs for you; steak, beans, and eggs for the boys.Â
You walk to the hallway and open the door to see your dadâs hunched figure barely visible in the weak light of the porch bulb. The sun has entirely set by now, and the sky is a dark blue that you know will quickly turn black. âHey.â
The grill sharply pops right as your dad straightens up and looks back at you. âWhile youâre finishinâ that up, Iâm gonna heat up some beans and make some fried eggs. That okay with you?â
âYeah, sure.â
Thatâs all you need before youâre heading back into the kitchen to grab a skillet and a pot. You know the steaks won't take hardly any time on the grill since your dad likes them pinkââHe didnât even ask how you take your steak,â you mutter to Syâso you try to cook in a rush so the rest of the food will be ready at the same time.Â
After adding seasoning to the beans, Sy helps taste-test, and he holds out a plate for you to lay the finished eggs on, as well. Theyâre all over-easy, and you put the one whose yolk accidentally spills open onto a separate plate for yourself. By the time everything's ready, your dadâs already at the table with a beer, a knife, and a fork, cutting his steak. Sy takes the seat in front of him.Â
In the middle of the table is a large plate with three other steaks piled on top. You put the pot of beans and the plate of fried eggs beside it, take a seat beside Sy, and refrain from immediately standing up to add food to your dadâs plate for him. You arenât able to refrain from immediately standing up to get something for you and Sy to drink, however, and deciding to not even ask your dad because you know heâll just answer with a grunt, you grab two unrefrigerated bottles of water from the twelve-pack on the kitchen floor and hand one to Sy before sitting back down.Â
âThanks for grillinâ the steak,â Sy says while stabbing the one on top with a fork and settling it on his plate. Your dad nods his head. âLooks great. Medium rareâs how I cook mine, too.â
Sy puts the other items on his plate only after youâve served yourself first. On your plate are two over-easy eggsâone flat with spilled yolkâand a small spoonful of baked beans because youâre not about to spend the entire ride back to the hotel filling the car with gas. You start to slowly, slowly eat.
âSyâs retired from the Army, Dad,â you eventually speak up, fishing for a topic that heâll cling to.Â
âOh?â he asks. âYeah, looks the type.â
That gets him and Sy talking for at least a little bit, but your dad unfortunately doesnât ask many questions, so itâs up to Sy to navigate the conversation by supplying bits of information here and there and asking your dad questions. Man talk comes easy, though, just like it always does. Sports. Hunting. Fishing.Â
All-in-all, itâs not the worst dinner conversation, but thereâs an underlying awkwardness to it, some sort of simmering tension. The long stretches of silence caused by your dadâs four- or five-worded sentences doesnât help, nor does the fact that he asks you nothing at all. Even after supplying him with great conversation fodderâyour upcoming graduationâthereâs nothing more from him than a little noise of interest, another little, âOh?â and thatâs it. No further questions about what date itâll be so he can plan to come down for it, no inquiries about your dissertation, no nothing. You try not to take anything personally.
Sy eventually catches your eye. Just a tiny, imperceptible lift of his browâYou good?
You give a subtle nodâIâm fineâthen you lift an eyebrow, tooâare you?Â
Thereâs barely any change in Syâs face. You imagine that thereâs some small bit of movement, though. You hope so, at least. You hope he's not downright suffering right now.Â
You hate that this is how the day is going to be ending. If only you'd started with an actual breakfast steak and eggs meal with your father and ended the day at your mom's house⊠If only you hadnât been idiotic enough to fill the day with so muchâŠÂ
You share another private look with Sy and then go back to pushing your food around your plate. While you stab a singular bean on your fork, the air is weird for a second. You look up and catch your father blatantly staring at you and Sy while he's chewing a bite of food, and you reach up to itch your neck.Â
âSo. Whatâre yâallâs intentions here, anyway?â he finally asks, and your mouth parts at the tone of his voice. It's not quite disapproving, butâŠit is. âConsiderinâ y'all's ages.â
This is where the pot boils over. You knew the weird tension would reach a head eventually, and for good reason: you know your dad very well. More than being just antisocial, he can be a downright asshole. You warned Sy, at least.Â
Still, it doesnât change anything. Doesnât make the upcoming criticism from your dad any easier to hear.Â
He'd asked about ây'all'sâ intentions as if addressing you both together, but he's only looking at Sy. With a tone of incredulity, you warn, âThis is your very first time meeting him, Dad.â
âIntentions?â Sy speaks up.
Your dad chews again, then swallows, then belches in a gross way that doesn't make noise and seems to be swallowed. âMm.â
âIâm not sure I understand,â Sy is slow to say. He lifts his eyebrows and continues to speak carefully. âDâyou mean why weâre here visitinâ?â
Even though Syâs probably either trying to be cordial or trying to at least fake being cordial, youâre outwardly frustrated. You look at him with thin lips. âHeâs just tryinâ toââ
âWhy youâre together,â your dad interrupts, and you forcefully stop yourself from rolling your eyes for fear they'll get stuck that way. Sy isnât even that much older than you are, but you know thatâs where your dadâs going with this. That and probably a dozen other things.Â
Sy looks towards you right as youâre looking away, but you catch his expression from your peripheral vision, anyway. His jaw is tense. Â
Your eyes turn blank before staring at your plate because you know whatâs about to happen with this much testosterone in the room. Your dadâs not being respectful; Sy won't accept you being disrespected. Your dadâs not the best parental figure; Sy wants you to be taken care of.Â
From your fatherâs side of it, though, yâall are on his property, and even though the trailer isn't much, it's his. Heâs basically daring Sy to say something. He's challenging him.
You close your eyes for a moment. You know that, if it really were to come down to it, Sy will definitely not back down from a challenge. Even if itâs your fucking father.Â
âWhy weâre togetherâŠâ Sy puts his arm around the back of your chair before pointedly looking at your dad. âWell, I reckon Iâm just lucky.â
Your father outrightly chuckles.Â
âGee, thanks, Dad,â you say, peering up and frowning. Sy discreetly rubs his thumb over your shoulder.
âOh, hell, Y/N,â he answers before taking another bite of steak. âYâknow I didnât mean it like that.â
âYeah, okay. You were only laughing when he called himself lucky,â you mutter.Â
He mumbles something back that you donât make out, but you know itâs something defensive.
âWhatever, Dad. It justâIt just sounded disrespectful,â you quietly say, sighing lightly. âThatâs all.â
âWhatchu know about respect, Y/N?â he asks, and it doesnât sound mean, not even condescending. Maybe thatâs what makes you angrierâthe forced calm. The conversational tone all of a sudden.
Youâre almost positive that heâs referring to you and Syâs silent discussion he witnessed you having just a few seconds ago with just your eyes. Heâs being a dick because heâs probably feeling like you and Sy are judging him, and again, you want to roll your eyes like a teenager. Instead, you huff. âA lot of things.â
âLike?â
Sy moves his hand from the back of your chair and straightens up in his own seat. âLike that respect is somethinâ thatâs earned and not given, for one,â he answers on your behalf, leaning a bit forward.
Oh, Jesus. Here we go.Â
Your father takes a sip of his beer. âMore like that respect for flesh and blood should trump anything else,â he comes back with, looking right at Sy. âThatâs biblical.â
Your dad doesnât even go to church, so what the fuck is his deal right now? Whyâs he trying to instigate shit? To establish that he's the dominant one for knowing you longer or something? To show the worst parts of himself from the very start as a way to test him, to try to run him off? To keep just challenging him in some way for fun? What the actual fuck?
Sy smiles down at his plate, and itâs a shit-eating grin, not his genuine one. âAh, at the end of the day, flesh and blood just means youâre related to someone.â
Your dad wipes the side of his mouth where you see a smirk forming.Â
Is this seriously happening right now? What is happening right now?
âFlesh and blood equals family,â is your dadâs retort, âand, makes sense that that's where respect should start.â
âExcept flesh and blood ainât really the same as family,â Sy argues back lightly. âJust the same as respect, I think familyâs a word that's gotta be earned.â
Sy doesnât break eye-contact with your father after speaking, and at that, you slightly drop your mouth. Without saying as much, Syâs essentially calling your dad a bad parent, not worthy to hold the title of being called family. And while he may not be entirely wrong⊠This canât go on. Itâll end horribly. Theyâre both being ridiculous.
Your dadâs about to respond right when Syâs about to keep talking, too, and you let out some sort of exasperated groan.Â
âOh, my God, would yâall please just stop?â you forcefully drop your silverware on your plate and pleadingly ask. âStop. Please. Both of you."
Both Sy and your father look at you with some sort of quiet shock at your out-of-character outburst.Â
"Justâstop. You're here havin' some sorta pissin' contest over--over what? Over what?â You look at Sy and then back to your father. âThis is so stupid. I love both of you, you're both important to me, and you both don't have to sit here competing with each other about absolute bullshit, okay?â
The men continue to stare at you in surprise as you go on, your voice clear and firm in a way it usually isnât.
âWhatever the hell problems yâall came up with in your heads about one another, get over it and get over it quick, or else I'm gonna get up and walk right out this dirty ass trailer."Â
Frowning, you look between Sy and your dad again.Â
âIâm a grown woman, and yâall are both grown adults. So you should put aside your egos and act like it.â
As both Sy and your father continue to look at you unblinkingly, you put your hands on the table. âIâm right hereâliterally right in front of you bothâand I can speak for myself. If you have any questions, Dad, ask me. Ask me instead of murmurinâ all this stuff under your breath like you just did after you disrespectfully laughed when Sy said heâs lucky to be with me.â
Your father takes his time sipping his beer. âJust was wonderinâ why youâre with him, thatâs all.â
Unbelievable. Yet another person who can't just be happy for you.
âWell, mostly just the sex, Dad,â you answer straightaway, âbut Iâm also usinâ him for his military pension.â
Sy makes a half-choking, half-laughing noise in the back of his throat, and you donât even look at him. âIâm with him because I love him,â you firmly tell your father, never breaking eye-contact with him. âNot that I need to explain my choices to you, anyway, âcause you've never given a damn about any of them before. And you definitely haven't cared about who I've dated before. But if you really wanna know, Syâs a good person, and I love him, and Iâm happy. And he's not even that much older than I am! Now, if you could just pretend to be happy for me for the rest of this dinner, thatâd be great. Otherwise, like I said, Iâm just gonna leave.â
Your dad stares at you until you're done, then he gives you a singular nod, slightly lifting one hand from off the table like heâs accepting what youâve said.
"And you," you turn to Sy and address. "You donât have toâThank youâ" you pointedly look at him with soft, grateful eyesâ "but you seriously donât have to stick up for my honor or anything right now. It'sâŠIt's just my dad bein' my dad. Please just chill, okay?"
Like your father, Sy curtly nods at you, and under the table, he puts a hand on your leg. His and your fatherâs eyes donât move from your face for quite some time, but after they finally glance at one another again, itâs mere moments before they look back down at their plates and begin to silently eat again.
Utensils lightly clank against porcelain for a few moments. Sy makes a deep noise in the back of his throat while heâs chewing to politely indicate he likes the food, but internally, he's probably angry as shit that youâd just embarrassed him like that.Â
âHowâs your grandma doinâ?â your dad breaks the silence.
âSheâs okay,â you answer, and then you pick up your fork and begin to eat once more. Your stomach is suddenly hurting, thoughâSy's gotta be quietly stewing internally, and you know that when you're alone together after this, you're gonna have an argument regardless of how patient a man he is.
âHowâs your mom?â he asks next.
"You live here, Dad, not me," you answer without any bite, happy that most of his alpha machismo has settled and that heâs actually begun to ask you questions now. "You see her more than I do, I'm sure."
Your dad grunts like Sy would. âOne thing about this town is everyone knows everyone's business."
"Mm. Momma said she got a phone call the other night from one of her neighbors that saw me cominâ into town."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. She told on me for buyin' alcohol at the Citgo."
Your dad laughs.
"It's not funny,â you say through a smile, though honestly, youâre still frustrated with him. And nervous about your upcoming argument with Sy. âItâs nosy as hell. I'm an adult."
âAs you have reminded us twice in the past five minutes.â
âMm,â you just say. You finish the tiny bit of food left on your plate. âWhatâs with all the cars outside, anyway? I meant to ask.â
âThey donât run,â he answers before taking a sip of beer. âThe Honda needs a carburetor. The Ford had the catalytic converter stoleât out it. The other two just got a bunch'a stuff to work on.â
Sy perks up a bit but doesnât say anything.
âYou're just leavinâ âem out there to rust?â
Your dad pushes his plate forward. âEh, I'll get to âem eventually.â
âSo what are you drivinâ, then?â
âThe truck.â
You nod but don't say anything else. Your dad's been driving âthe truckâ since you were young, a blue Toyota that looked nice at one time, but definitely not anymore. The driverâs seat no longer has upholstery; there's just a tattered yellow cushion your dad sits on while driving. The color of one of the doors doesn't match the rest of the vehicleâs paint. Somehow you're not surprised that the truck is still his preferred method of transportation.
After everyoneâs done eating, your dad goes outside to smoke a cigarette, and you clean off the table. Sy quietly helps you wash the dishes youâd just dirtied along with whatever else is already in the sink, but when that turns into you scrubbing the counters and then cleaning your dadâs greasy microwave, Sy quietly steps aside.Â
And you get it. You know how upset he's gotta be with you. You'd humiliated him in front of your fatherâŠthe very first time theyâd met.Â
Well. Your first real argument as a couple was bound to happen sometime. Of course it would happen now, outside your grumpy-ass dadâs trailer.
Sy puts on his jacket and leaves the front part unzipped, and then he takes a few large strides back to you. Standing behind you, he kisses the top of your head for some reason, then he murmurs, âBe right back.â
You donât get why heâs still acting affectionate. If you stiffen a little bit, you try to hide it.
You take the time to dry the dishes the best you can with the paper towels you see laying out, then you put everything away without much care to where it goes since thereâs no organizational system in place that you notice. After that, you find a broom and quickly start sweeping the kitchen floor, then the living room floor, then the floor underneath the kitchen table.Â
Itâs not much different when youâre done, but itâs somewhat better. If your dad owned any cleaning products whatsoever, itâd even smell nice. Still, using only water and soap is an improvement. After that, you stay busy with throwing away pieces of blatant trash you find laying around until the front door opens again.
When your dad steps inside, he makes a bee-line for the fridge. Sy enters next and shuts the door behind him, then you hear the click and hiss of a can opening.
"You could probably do well with cuttin' back, Dad,â you uselessly say while approaching Sy. You quietly point outside to gesture to Sy that you want to leave soon. After that, you keep your eyes diverted from his.
Sy holds up your coat as you push your arms through the thick sleeves, and you quickly and briefly look up at him in thanks, trying to hide your nerves. âYouâŠhave a good chat?â you ask.
Instead of answering, Syâs lip curves upwards at one side. He'smadatyouhe'smadatyou. In the next instant, your father steps closer to you.
"What for?"
You turn your attention to your father again and do some mental tricks to remember what heâs even referring to. Ohâalcohol. âI dunno, Dad,â you say with a shrug. "Your general health."
âEh, my liverâs fine.â
Leaving you to talk with your dad alone, Sy points to where the bathroom would be down the hall before heading in that direction. You watch him until he's out of sight.Â
âI highly doubt that,â you respond while zipping up your coat.
Your dad moves until heâs standing right beside you. âEven if it ainât, when I go, itâll be my time to go.â
âWell,â you look up and comment, âother people might want you around for longer, then, have you ever thoughtâa that?â
âWho?â
âMaybe me.â You shrug. âNeed someone to walk me down the aisle eventually.â
Your dad reaches out to touch your elbow, and he leaves his hand there for a few seconds before dropping it. His way of showing affection is so weird, but you've accepted it. Maybe this is even his approval of Sy. You can only hope.Â
In the background, you hear a toilet flush. If the main spaces of the trailer have been this uncared for, you can only imagine the state of the bathroom that Syâs currently exiting, and you frown. How freaking embarrassing. Justâall of this.Â
âYouâve got to get this place cleaned up better, Dad,â you turn back and softly plead, piling on more stuff to parent him over. âThisâŠIt just canât be good for your health.â
Your father clearly hears what you say and chooses not to respond.
After Sy walks back into the room, he stands in front of your father and holds out his hand. âThanks again for havinâ us,â he says while they briefly yet firmly shake hands. âIt was nice meetinâ you.â
âYou, too, son,â your dad replies, and you turn towards the door and make some sort of hidden, shocked face. Son?
âAlright, well.â You briefly look behind you before opening the door and letting in the cold. âIâll let you know when Iâm in town again. Probably not âtil spring break.â
Your dad nods. âDrive safe.â
Thatâll be the only other outward display of care that youâll get from your father, so you slightly smile. âYeah. We will. Bye, Dad. Was good seeinâ you.â
He uses your nickname when he returns the sentiment.
Outside, itâs now entirely dark, and you hurry down the small set of stairs until youâre back on flat dirt again. You canât help wrapping your arms around yourself. Fuck. This is gonna be you and Syâs first fightâreal fight. You absolutely dread it. You could cry.
The way youâve acted tonight, the way youâve talked⊠You knew that being around your dad would bring out a different side of you, and you wish youâd exercised way more control over your behavior and word choices. You shouldnâtâve even come here.Â
Maybe that's being dramatic, but you don't care.Â
By the car, you stall with the keys in your hand. You accidentally drop them and have to bend over to pick them up, and when you stand upright again, you notice Sy tossing a tiny piece of gum in his mouth. As he starts chewing it, you just know heâs just continuing exercising his self-control.Â
The trip back to the hotel is going to be tense as shit unless you apologize now. You clench your teeth together and turn to face Sy head-on. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.
âWell, that wasââ Sy stops in his tracks once you look at him. âWhoa, whoaâhey, hey, whatâs wrong?â
"Iâm so sorry, Sy," you tell him, touching your temples and sighing like youâve just spent an entire day at work. "I really, really am.â
Genuine concern paints his handsome face. âWhatâre you sorry for, baby?â
âFor everything I said to youâŠand for my dad beingâŠmy dad. Sorry for this whole entire freaking dinner.â You throw your hands in the air in exasperation. âThis entire trip. It's justâBeing around him just, like, really triggers me, and IâI'm sorry forâ"
Youâre interrupted by fingers on your chin gently tilting your face upwards. With minty breath, Syâs mouth covers yours quicker than you can even anticipate it, and obviously you kiss him back, but you mumble against his lips until he stands upright again.
You touch your lips with two fingers. âWhâwhat was that for?â
Crouching down to kiss your forehead next, Sy slides down to your nose and your mouth again, then down to your chin and your neck, even pushing your coat to the side to get more access. He drags his mouth around so much that his beard tickles your skin. The noises he makes are contentâlittle mm, mm, mhmm soundsâand you just stay frozen.
âI don't get why you're doing this,â is the only thing your brain can put together.Â
With hot lips, he speaks against your neck, and out of pure instinct, you tilt your head to the side to allow him room to work with. Still, your mouth remains open in confusion. Your arms hang limply by your sides.
âWhâ? Howâ?â You have to take an actual step back because you donât understand what the hell's going on. Youâre wearing a winter coat, and here he is trying to devour your neck. Outside your dadâs trailer. When he's mad at you.
When you straighten out again, prompting Sy to follow suit, you sniff before asking, âWhatâre you doinâ, Sy?â
Instead of an argument like you were expecting, this isâŠentirely differently. You were expecting anger, you were expecting embarrassment, some sort of shock at the nerve of you to dare talk to him that way, but thisâthis isâthis is the exact opposite. Syâs grinning in your face, downright happy.Â
His grin gently softens as he moves his hands to your hips. In the glow of the front porch light, his eyes are just as gentle.
âI am so fuckinâ proudâa you, Y/N,â he says, then he literally hefts you up and spins you in a circle.Â
You let out a high-pitched noise. "OhâGood lord, Sy, what?â you squeak, dizzy when youâre back on flat ground again.
âIâm so proud of you,â he repeats.
Leaning backwards against the driverâs side door to get your balance, you ask, âAnd this is you showinâ your pride?â
Sy just nods through a roguish smile and leans in to deeply kiss you again, muffling your âFor what?âÂ
It's impossible not to give in, but you're confused and you're getting cold, and leaning on this car isn't comfortable at all. âSy,â you chide, âweâre still at my dadâs.â
When he kisses you again, you indulge in it for a few more moments before lifting your hands to his thick jacket. "Ugh, no, Iâm beinâ seriousâŠI need a shower. After how gross it was in thereâ"
"Aw, was like the barracks I'm used to,â Sy says with a shrug. âFelt like home."
You burst out laughing. Itâs quiet shortly after that, though, and you divert your eyes away from Sy and also from the eyesore of your dadâs trailer. âYouâre seriously not mad at me?â
In response, you see Sy just shake his head, simple as anything. Happiness bordering on glee covers his face. âNo.â
âI meanâbut I saidâŠSy, when I was sayinâ that stuff, I wasâŠI was actually talkinâ to you, too, you know. Earlier. In there. You and my dad.â
âOh,â Sy instantly says, âI know you were.â
You finally meet his eyes. âAnd that got youâŠWhat, thatâs what youâre proud of?â
âSeeinâ you stand up for yourself?â he asks. âKnowinâ youâll put me in my place if I need it? Fuck, yeah, that's what I'm proud of. It means you ain't afraid to speak your mind.â
Sy takes your face in both hands. âYou trust me enough to tell me off, to tell me to stop. IâŠI couldn't be any fuckinâ happier right now.â
You blink a few times. You hadnât considered it like that before. When you think of it like that, itâs not so bad after all.
Still, it was rude, and you say as much. Sy brushes your apology aside again.Â
Guilt is slow to evaporate, but Syâs kisses help. Thereâs nothing but eager hunger when he slides one of his hands to the back of your head and starts earnestly making out with youâjaw working, tongue working, face moving from the left to the right to change the angle of the kiss and explore more.Â
Feeling small and enveloped, you get carried away at being literally ravished like this, and the inadvertent noises that escape your mouth only spur Sy on. When his hands travel up and down the length of your sides and then down to your ass, however, you have to protest.
Everything feels good, but too good. You have no other option but to stop like you're ripping a bandaid offâfast and all at once. Roughly, you tear your mouth from Sy's, leaving you both panting out condensation into each other's faces.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. âSy. I really donât wanna do this here,â you tell him, yearning for a hot shower and a clean living space and maybe some more clarification on exactly what the fuck is going through Sy's head right now.
âAlright, baby. Alright.â His hands loosen up instantly. âThen câmon,â he says, reaching to open the car door behind you.
Before Sy is able to, you sit down in the driverâs seat, and he stands outside, protesting. âHey, Iâll drive. I donât mind.â
âNeither do I,â you tell him with a smirk before shutting the door on him.Â
When heâs in the passenger seat, you start the car and flick on the headlights. Next, you switch the heat to full-blast and just sit there, trying to simultaneously catch your breath and warm your hands. Almost shyly, you look over at Sy. Unabashedly, he grins.Â
âSo, uh. The woods sorta freak me out at night,â you admit, trying to slow your breathing down to a normal rhythm, âand if Iâm not the one drivinâ, then Iâll worry way more.â
âAh.â
âDrivinâ at least keeps my brain occupied so there's less, like, room in there to worry.â You let out a small chuckle, and Sy makes a little noise in return.Â
âThatâs smart.â
âKnown to happen from time to time,â you murmur, trying to joke to make light of the fact that you sound like a broken record all the time, worrying about everything. âPlus, your focus, uh, seems to be on just one thing right now, anyway.â
âCanât fault me for that,â Sy replies, eyes fully focused on you. You glance at him again, and instead of seeing a cocky grin, thereâs a genuine contented smile thereâone that tells you that despite his obvious enthusiasm, heâs truly in no rush. Heâs just happy.
You donât know if youâll ever fully wrap your head around the fact thatâentirely soberâhe looks at you like youâre the fucking sun and treats you like youâre something both precious and desirable. A momentary smugness of your own washes through you as you remember that youâre the only one he shows this side of himself toâthis romantic and sort of soft side. The inside of the car is dark, but you make sure Sy sees you smiling back at him.
Taking a deep breath, you put the car into drive and start slowly crunching along the bumpy dirt lane. Bordering the long path are endless trees, and in them you suddenly see a bunch of raccoons, some sitting and some hanging, all with their huge beady eyes reflecting off your headlights.
âI fucking hate raccoons,â you grumble, evoking an actual laugh from Sy. Normally he just grins and chuckles.
âWell, alright then,â he says, clearly amused.
You look over and smile at him. âWhat? Theyâre horrible. When I was little, they used to break into the trash cans and get crap everywhere. And guess who had to clean it up.â
âYou poor thing,â he tuts and says with a deep tone, and instantly, like his very voice is being injected straight into your bloodstream, your heart begins to thump.
All his words are a lot. He's a lot.Â
Driving with just one hand, you chew on the nails of your free hand. Despite your desire to just have one fucking night without worrying for once, youâre still unable to stop ruminating on the events of the night. Mainly you focus on supper, obviously, but then you start over-analyzing what Sy had said and done just moments ago in the yard, too.
He said he was proud of you. He said he was proud of you for âputting him in his place.â Proud of you. Like, excessively proud. Spin-you-in-the-air proud.
Not having anything to compare this situation to, your mind is reeling. What does that mean? You simultaneously love yet canât accept praise, and thatâs something that you just canâtâŠwhat does that even mean?
âYouâre thinkinâ real loud over there,â Sy notices.
Quietly, you let out a little puff of air through your nostrils. âWhen am I not?âÂ
âIâll protectchu from those raccoons, baby, donâtchu worry.â
In response to his joke, you only offer a tight-mouthed smile, and you see how Sy tries to tilt his body more towards you. In the small car, it doesnât make much of a difference, but you feel his heavy attention on you nonetheless.
âHey,â he says, changing tones. âWhatâs up?â
You put your right hand on the steering wheel to join your left while you think of how to phrase what youâre thinking. âOkay. So, a few minutes ago.â
Briefly, you glance at Sy and notice his face is focused, eyes serious.
âYou said you wereâŠlike.â Whyâs it hard to even say? âProud of me.â
âSo fuckinâ proud,â Sy corrects.
Your face gets hot just from continuously hearing that word. âBut...for what? For putting you in your place?â
âMmhm.â
âLike. Could you maybe define what exactly that means?â
âI said somethinâ outta line,â he easily answers, âand you stood your ground and told me to stop.â
Your eyes dart around the road to make sure you donât see any deer in the distance. Sy reads your silence as confusion.
âTryna buck up onâ your dad within an hour of meetinâ himâŠNot my best move,â he admits.
âHe was tryinâ to buck up on you.â
âAt any rate, I made up for it.â
You briefly look at him. âHow?â
âWe talked outside. Weâre good.â
You lower your speed as your dadâs lane finally ends, spilling out onto a public road. It's still just dirt and gravel for now, but itâll change to asphalt soon. You take the turn carefully; there are patches of snow everywhere, and thereâs something like twenty back-to-back curves up ahead that youâve got to navigate on the rest of the way down the mountain.Â
âIâm sure it was riveting,â you comment with a twinge of curiosity. âHeâs an excellent conversationalist.â
Sy chuckles. âStill havenât told me whatâs wrong,â he supplies, slipping a hand on your leg for a second.Â
âI mean, nothingâs wrong,â you try to explain.
âDo you not believe that Iâm proudâa you?â he guesses.
âNo, I believe you,â you instantly reply just as heâs finishing with, ââCause I donât throw that word around for nothinâ.â
You glance over at Sy to see him still watching you attentively. âI knowâIâm just, I dunnoâŠIâm confused, I guess.â
The heater is humming, the tires are crunching along the road, and the radio is almost imperceptibly dull. Sy patiently waits in silence for you to get your words together.
âSo, uh. Okay. You donât have, likeâŠa thing with âbeing put in your placeâ or something, do you?âÂ
You carefully step on the brakes while you take a hair-pin turn, grateful that this road is so curvy you have to really pay attention to it. Youâre so embarrassed at this topic that you couldnât bear to look at Syâs face right now.
Still, you feel Syâs eyes on you. âWhatchu mean by that?â
âLikeâŠI dunno, thatâs just aâŠYou donât like toâI mean, itâs totally okay and all, âcause, like, we always have good sex, butâYou donât want me toââ you lower your voiceâ âboss you around or anything, do you? Itâs just âcause Iâm not really sure ifââ
Loudly, Sy lets out a laugh. âOh, now, you know damn well what the answer to that is.â
Relieved, you smile, but then just a second later, youâre rolling your eyes again. He looks and sounds like such a fuckboy right now, laughing like that. You honestly think youâve rolled your eyes enough times tonight for them to be stuck.
âAnd you like it, too,â he adds deeply. âMe beinâ in charge.âÂ
You keep your eyes on the road. Maybe.
âDonâtchu?â
Though you try fighting it back, a smile breaks out across your face. âI donâtââ
âYes, you do,â Sy supplies confidently.Â
You chuckle. âNo, thatâs not what I was gonna say. I was gonna say that I donât like to make a whole lotta extra decisions. âCause, likeâŠI do that all the time at work and on campus as it is. So it's nice. ToâŠnot have to do that."
âThatâs where you can leave the worryinâ to me, darlinâ.â
âYeah,â you murmur, and you canât help squirming in your seat. Though you still canât entirely understand why heâs proud, you take his words at face-value. He'd said it, and he only says what he means.Â
âLooks like ice up ahead, babe,â Sy points out, conversation continuing along as if you hadnât made everything awkward as shit.Â
âOh, gosh,â you mutter before you carefully swerve around a large patch of ice on the road.Â
âShoulda got some chains for these tires,â he mutters to himself.
âOh, it's not so bad,â you speak up. âI got this.â
Sy glances at you. âYes, you do.â
The air in the cabin is heavy during the rest of the drive, but itâs not unpleasant. Itâs charged heavinessâanticipatory like the moment between thunder and lightning, comforting like sleeping under your new weighted blanket, molten like trying to breathe at the humid forest floor of a jungle. It goes unsaid whatâs going to happen later.
Syâs eyes have lost their earlier wildness and have steadily changed into something more calm. Still, when you pull up to the hotel, you turn off the car and look at him pointedly. âIâm seriously gonna take a shower in, like, two minutes exactly,â you tell him, âso donât jump me the second we walk in the room.â
All of Syâs teeth show from the grin he gives you, the crooked one on the side getting your attention immediately. âNow, that ainât fair.âÂ
You stick your tongue out at him.
On the way to your hotel room, you and Sy kiss in the corner of the elevator, taking advantage of being alone. Unable to stop smiling, you laugh against his lips at first, but you end up with your face and mouth going entirely lax within a few seconds, your tongues sliding together hungrily. With one of Syâs hands on your waist and the other leaning on the elevator wall above your head, you feel small and owned and encapsulatedâwith his mouth, with his scent, with his entire body.Â
After stepping out onto your floor, Sy looks both ways to ensure youâre still alone, then goes back to kissing you while you attempt to reach your room. You break away from his lips to get your key-card, and while still steadily continuing to walk, albeit sideways, you accept even more kisses.
âMilitary self-discipline, my ass,â you mutter under your breath once you arrive at the correct door, and you shriek out a laugh when Sy outrightly smacks your backside.
âDamn, so loud,â Sy mumbles. âGonna get management called on us.â
You squint your eyes at him. âAnd whose fault would that be?âÂ
Sy innocently lifts his hands. You bite your bottom lip through a smile and let yourself in the room.
Inside, you drop your things on a nearby table and go straight to the bathroom to switch on the lights. You keep the door open while you strip out of your coat and the rest of your clothes, and Sy leans against the door-frame and calmly watches you.Â
âYou werenât jokinâ about takinâ a shower right away, huh.â
You bend down to turn on the faucet, flipping up the diverter to switch the water to the showerhead next. Feeling somewhat bold, or as bold as possible while nervously playing with your thumbs behind your back, you turn to look directly at Sy.Â
Giving him a full-frontal view and an almost-shy expression, you quietly ask, âYou gonna join me or what?â
With tenacity, Sy drops his jacket to the floor. âYou ainât gotta ask me twice.â
He reaches over his shoulder for the middle of his sweater and tugs it over his back and head in one motion. Next, he kicks off his boots and undoes his belt, looking ahead at you instead of paying attention to what heâs doing. You take him in, too, eyes flitting over his wide torso and chest the very moment theyâre bared. Youâll never get over the sheer breadth of this man.
As Sy pushes his jeans and boxers down together, the metal of his belt clinks in a sound you entirely associate with sex. Immediately, you glance downwards and stare at how filled out his dickâs beginning to get. When he walks into the bathroom, he catches you, and you look up at him through your lashes.
Slowly, Sy approaches you, and he drops a barely-there kiss to your forehead. He takes your hand a few seconds later to unnecessarily help you step into the tub.Â
After both of you are inside, you close the curtain and get under the warm water as quickly as you can, avoiding your hair. Sy continues to just watch you. Thereâs just thisâthis look heâs got on his face. This subtle smile. The smile heâs been donning since leaving your fatherâs place that just wonât fully leave, like heâs quietly self-satisfied, but satisfied with youâlike heâs truly and sincerely radiating pride. Â
âThisâs gone entirely to your head,â you try to joke. Thereâs no preamble prior to saying it, and thereâs no explanation afterwards, either. You both know what youâre talking about.Â
Sy reaches outside of the shower for a washrag. He hands it to you before securing the curtain again. âItâs no small thing, Y/N,â he says seriously. âYou know that, right?â
You look up at him, and the somewhat-smug smile has dropped. He reaches out and finds your forearm, and he lightly wraps his fingers there. âIt means you feel safe enough to really speak up, maybe push boundaries some. It means you trust me.â
Just then, a scene pops into your mind from not too long ago: you and Sy on your bed. You, crying yourself dehydrated. Him, holding you while you got it all out. The night youâd both said âI love youâ for the first time. The night he'd gotten you roses and cooked dinner for you only for you to have a complete emotional breakdown in front of him.Â
He'd said the same stuff back then, too. He'd said he only ever wanted you to just drop your shields around him, to fully trust him. To trust that he wasn't just with you for all the good times, but the bad times, too. And heâd said that communicating with each other was the only way that that kind of trust would come about. Your emotional breakdown was rough, but youâd talked everything out that night. Now look at you.
It had been so hard for you to comprehend at that time that someone would willingly want to go through challenging times with their partner. Since then, though, youâve held up to your promise to voice not just pleasant things but the unpleasant things, as well, and since then, Syâs proven time and time again that he wonât overreact, wonât use anything against you. He's shown that he just wants you to feel comfortable enough to share everythingâthatâs all. No hidden motives.Â
âI do trust you,â you say, almost whispering it because it feels sacred. âI really, really do.âÂ
Still blinking up at him, you watch as obvious adoration and pride returns full-force to his face. His hand moves down your forearm to your hand, and he gently squeezes it before letting it go.Â
You zone out for a second while holding the washrag in the direct path of the falling water. âGod, I really thought you were gonna be so mad at me. I was expectinâ us to argue. NotâŠthis.â
âYou thought I was gonna argue with you?â
You nod before putting a superfluous amount of body wash on the washrag. Youâre determined to wash yourself resplendent. âI thought you were just holdinâ it together âtil we were alone,â you mumble while running the washrag all over your arms, then your chest, then your stomach.
Syâs eyes lose their earlier mirth, turning downwards at the side. âY/NâŠNo.â
âI mean, I know I have a lot of deprogramming I still have to work on,â you admit as you reach behind you to wash your neck and back, âbutâI just didnât know what to think. I said out-of-line stuff.â
Sy nods with a frown, a weird mixture of emotions washed over his face. âYour dad said outta line stuff,â he corrects. âYou just stood up for yourselfâand for me. And I canât tell you how fuckinâ proud I am.â
Youâre so unaccustomed to hearing anybody tell you that theyâre proud of youâand so damn repeatedlyâthat it still sounds foreign to your ears. When your eyes search Syâs face, again, his happiness is evident.Â
The expressions on his face have been all over the place tonight. You love this one the best, the one right now. The smile that makes his eyes crinkle and his mouth widen and his eyes soft.
âYou really are proud of me tonight, huh?â you whisper.Â
âThis whole weekend, actually,â Sy answers with an accent like butter. Akchalee. His voice only turns more seductive when he adds, âSo proud of my girl.â
You glance aside. In reaction to hearing him say these things in that deep voice of his, your breathing stutters, and as usual, your heart minutely quickens. You briefly turn around with the guise of washing between your legs, wondering if Sy truly knows the full extent of the impact these simple words have on you.Â
âI donât want you ever to be afraidâa me,â he tells you when you turn around. âEver. Iâm dead serious about that.â
âI know, Sy,â you reply. âIâm not.â
Things have gotten a little intense, so you bend down to wash all the lower parts of your body. When you stand up, you give the washrag to Sy andâwith difficultyâswitch places in the shower so you can rinse off.
â...But that doesnât mean that you canât be mad, you know?â you go on. âI mean, realistically, thereâs gonna be some time that youâll get angry with me. Iâm not perfect. Weâre...I mean, it sucks, and I really donât want to, but at some point, eventually weâre actually gonna argue.â
Itâs quiet after that, and youâre fully aware youâre starting to ruin the moment Syâs been building up. Because of course you are.
Sy doesnât speak until you look at him again, almost like heâs been waiting for you to. âAnd thatâs the entire point Iâm tryna make,â he says, smiling. âEven if I am mad about somethinâ, or if youâre mad about somethinâ, neither of us should have to hold our tongues âcauseâa some reaction weâre afraid of. The only way to work shit out is through communication. And real communication wonât happen without believinâ youâre gonna feel safe even sayinâ whatâs on your mind.â
You take the time to absorb all of that. âRight,â you agree.Â
âSo you get now why Iâm a little fuckinâ happy?â he asks. âThatchu felt you could say whatchu did?â
You nod. âYeah.â
Sy doesnât buy it yet. â...But?â
You chuckle. âBut I justâŠI donât want to ever say wrong things, though,â you look down and mutter. âLike, what if what I said tonight really did make you mad? âCause it was disrespectful?â
Sy lifts your face softly with a finger on your chin. âThen weâd talk,â he replies.
Like the words donât compute, you stare at him blankly.Â
âBaby, itâs me,â he reminds you, and his eyes shadow with something pained, a phantom ache that youâve picked up on from time to time when you say certain things.Â
âI know,â you try to placate, looking away for a second. Of course. âI know, I know, Iâm sorry.â
Sy steps in to hug you, and even though youâre skin-on-skin and can literally feel every part of him, thereâs nothing sexual about it. You put your hands on his love-handles before wrapping them around his slick back, and while you keep your hands there, you rest your cheek on his chest.Â
âSorry you always have to deal with the same stuff from me all the time.â
âYouâre my favorite thing to deal with,â is his reply, and you huff in amusement against his wet skin.Â
You place a kiss on his chest, and it smacks when you back away. âBut really. Thanks for always beinâ so patient with me, Sy.â
While you squeeze Syâs back, you feel a kiss at the top of your head. âI love you,â he murmurs, and in the words, you hear a background of other meanings. You hear loving you ainât a hardship. You hear well, it ainât necessarily an effort I have to make. It just is.
And thereâs nothing in your mind thatâs trying to dispute that anymore.Â
Summary: After the housesitting situation...things start to get a little complicated
Content Warnings: I'm putting the slow in slow burn guys... (a little smutty, M masturbation, mentions of boners hehe)
Word count: 2750
A/N: after 4 billions years, here's the next part to the story...this is kinda short and I KNOW its a very slow burn...but im getting there guys I promise, even tho this chapter doesn't quite feel finished, I wanted to post it and get some feedback idk, the next part will probably be more of a holiday fic so I will continue with december.
December 1st 11:34AM
âI canât believe it's December alreadyâ, you exclaimed as you pulled "November 31st" off the calendar that hung in your kitchen.
It was the definition of a slow Sunday. It was almost noon. You had just shoved your first batch of Christmas cookies in the oven. Sy was on the couch with a bowl of Cereal, pretending to read the paper but secretly eyeing the awful Hallmark Christmas movie you put on.
"Scootch", you gently barked at him, as if you weren't gonna end up half in his lap anyway. Sy grumbled but obliged and you indeed ended up with your legs sprawled across his lap and his paper sprawled across your legs. Aika was lying on the ground next to the couch, her usual spot.
"Want a sip?", you asked, holding up your cup of hot cocoa. "Nah, I don't drink any of that sugary stuff, way too sweet."
"Maybe you should, you could use it, Grumpy"
"Are you saying I'm not sweet, Sugar?", he drew up his eyebrow again and you giggled. "Well, a little extra wouldn't hurt, now would it?"
"I got you, don't I? More than enough sweetness for one grumpy old man."
You smiled at that. His eyes had gone back to his paper as he flipped a page. God, he was gorgeous.
"You're not old, Sy." you spoke gently, barely loud enough for him to hear it over the movie playing.
"Just watch the movie, sweetheart", his warm hand slid over your lower leg. It was ridiculous how the smallest, most innocent touch from him could make your entire body feel hot.
You took a sip from your Santa themed mug and you felt...at peace. Something that could only be described as domestic bliss hung in the air. You had a hard time keeping your eyes away from the rugged man sitting next to you. For a second you could picture Sy sitting at the holiday table with your family. You could see him talking about cars with your dad, or carrying your older sister's little girl on his arm...maybe one day even some little ones of your own...Oh, you bet he'd be an amazing father...son in law...husband..
"Sugar? Hey, Sugar?" Sy's voice accompanied with some leg squeezes snapped you out of your thoughts, "Huh?"
"The oven is beeping, Sugar. I think your cookies are done."
"Oh shit, right", you hopped up and made your way to the kitchen, mentally cursing yourself for even daring to think about your roommate like that.
Things with Sy had been.. peculiar. It felt wrong to say weird, cause that sounded negative, and in no way, shape or form would you describe living with him negatively.
When you told Liz about the night at the Kent mansion, she was absolutely ecstatic, until you clarified that nothing had actually happened...
Well...
November 23rd, 8:47 AM
When you first stirred awake, you had difficulty orienting yourself. Until you realised there was a pair of warm, large arms wrapped around you, pressing you against a warm hairy chest, and a hard..OH MY GOD-
Your eyes flew open immediately and you froze. It was wild how the body could go from a state of absolute relaxation and comfort to full high alert in a split second.
You tried your hardest not to move as your mind updated you on where you were and how you got here.
You were at your boss's mansion, house-sitting with your ridiculously attractive roommate for whom you may or may not harbour a massive crush, with whom you may or may not hoped to finally hook up last night.
When you had walked in on Sy fast asleep, part of you was relieved. Nothing had to change, you could just sleep next to him and you'd still be just roommates, maybe at most this would be an official upgrade to "friends", but that was it.
Yet here you were, the morning after your juvenile sleepover, snuggled in his arms with his massive, rock hard cock pressed against your ass.
Sneaking out wasn't an option. He was a military man. The slightest movement would alert him. You weren't ready for the confrontation, nor did you want to embarrass him. Your thoughts raced along with your heartbeat, and before you could come up with your next move, Sy woke up.
You felt his muscles tense and his breath hitch against your neck, your eyes closed instinctively, you tried to relax your body and slow down your breathing.
"Sugar?..." he whispered unsurely, you stayed quiet.
"Fuck...fuck fuck fuck...oh fuck not now...shit", he mumbled curses under his breath, clearly aimed at himself, or at least...a part of himself.
You felt him gently move back, and you had to use all your willpower not to stop him or chase his warmth. Maybe you should have, maybe you should have turned around and grabbed him, kissed him, finally told him how you felt...but you were too scared. Even tho he literally had a sign of his affection pressed against you, you were terrified of getting rejected by him. So you kept still and quiet.
Sy got up from the bed, slowly and silently. Your eyes stayed shut, but you heard him open the door to the bathroom. After that, all you could hear was the sound of the shower, you assumed it was cold.
You set up on the bed, and only a couple minutes later Sy emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel.
"Hi", you greeted him, looking at your phone to avoid having to look him in the eyes (or stare at his chest)
"Hey...did I wake you?", he replied, it was hardly noticeable, but still you could tell he was nervous.
"No, I uh...I just woke up, just now...", you stammered
He suggested you get some breakfast, you asked if he left you any hot water, he replied he only used cold.
November 28th, 09:56 AM - Thanksgiving Day
"Alright, I'm heading out! I'll be back tomorrow night, there's food in the fridge okay?
"Aye aye, captain", Sy replied from the couch, not bothering to look back at you, simply raising his beer.
You sighed, you knew Thanksgiving was a hard time for him. Bad memories. He had been in a foul mood since yesterday.
"Are you sure you don't wanna come? My mom always has too much food anyway"
"Sugar, I don't wanna ruin my own family's Thanksgiving with my brooding, why would I wanna ruin yours? Besides, someone needs to stay with Aika."
"You wouldn't ruin anything Sy, you and Aika would be more than welcome t-"
"I watched my men die last Thanksgiving. I have nothing to add to your celebration."
"Sy I'm-"
"Besides, I have nothing to be thankful for anyway," he cut you off again, his voice dripped with bitterness.
oh
alright.
The place was quiet for just a second before you replied "Got it", and moved to pick up your bag from the ground.
"Sugar..." he wanted to apologise, he didn't mean it how it came out.
You slammed the door shut before he even had the chance to say anything.
The drive to your motherâs place was only 45minutes but it felt like forever, tears prickled in your eyes as your mind went into full overthinking mode. The fact that you had just started your period this morning didnât help eitherâŠ
You ended up staying at your motherâs place for two nights instead of one. The next morning you woke up to a text from Sy;
âHey, Im sorry about yesterday. I didnât mean for that to come out the way it didâŠcan you just let me know youâre okay? Sy.
Sent at 01:09AMâ
You replied that you were fine and blamed your delay on the weather and having had too much to drink before finally getting in your car and driving home.
You got back to the apartment a little before noon, Sy was in his room, you could hear his PlayStation playing.
There was a box with a bow on it in the middle of the kitchen counter. Inside was a Polaroid camera with a note; âI'm thankful for you"
Great, now youâre tearing up againâŠ
His door was half open, you knocked before pushing it open completely, polaroid in your hand.
âHiâ
âHey, youâre homeâŠâ he looked up at you, all puppy eyed, immediately taking off his headphones, not caring that his character was getting shot to pieces.
âYeahâŠâ
âLookâŠSugarâŠI really didnât meanâ
âWhere did you get this?â, you asked curiously, holding up the camera.
âUhâŠI bought it a couple weeks ago, it was supposed to be your Christmas giftâŠbut I figured I should pull out all the stopsâ, he chuckled awkwardly.
You smiled at him, unable to help yourself you went up to hug him, and due to his position you found yourself sitting sideways on his lap as you pressed a kiss on his bearded cheek. âThanks Sy, I love itâ you said before wrapping your arms around his neck again and pulling him close. âand Iâm thankful for you tooâ you whispered.
A chill went down his spine and he cleared his throat, âwell uhâŠthanks Sugarâ, just as you felt something starting to stir up under your thighs, he swiftly urged you off of him and placed his headphones and controller on his lap.
âRight, uhm, do you need any laundry doneâŠI was just about to do mineâ you pointed at his laundry basket
âIm a grown man sug, I can do my own laundryâ
âI know that, but if Im doing it anywayâŠyou can do the next load, big guy.â
You grabbed his basket and your camera and darted out the room, making a mental note to throw the panties you currently had on in the laundry tooâŠ
December 1st 15:47
âCome on, smile!â, *SNAP*, the camera flashed. After another batch of cookies, hot coco and an awfully good holiday romcom, you decided some fresh air was due. Besides, Sy needed the exercise for his leg and Aika needed to get outside.
âSy, just one little smile thatâs all I ask forâ , *SNAP* ofcourse you had to take your brand new Polaroid camera with you. *SNAP*
Sy threw you the most forced smile ever. *SNAP*
"Perfect," you smiled. Aika barked happily, as if she were agreeing with you.
"Calm down, girl, daddy can't walk that fast," you said as she pulled on the leash.
"You can take the leash off, she'll come back when I call. There's no one around anyway," Sy added and took the leash from your hand, unhooking it from her collar. "Go on, girl, let's show mommy our party trick," he winked at you. Only then did it dawn on you that you had not only full-on called Sy "Daddy" out loud, but he referred to you as Aika's Mom...okay, surely it wasn't that deep, but still...you were her owners, both, equally.
Sy picked up a stick and threw it as hard as he could, "Go on Aika fetch!" he yelled out, "My leg might be busted, but I can still throw a stick", he added. "I can see that..." you replied. It seemed like you were referring to how fast and hard he threw the stick, but it was more the way you could see his bicep bulging through his sweater that made you...impressed...
Aika came back in no time, offering Sy the stick back.
"Good girl," he praised and scratched behind her ears.
Yup...your panties were ruined again...
December 6th 17:28
The pictures you took of Sy hung on the fridge. They made you giggle a bit every time you saw them. He looked so cute in his beanie, rough cheeks just a little rosy from the cold, looking all grumpy before finally complying and looking all adorable with his little smile, it made you giggle again.
"What's so funny?" Sy asked, putting his hand on your waist as he squeezed next to you, getting a mug off the shelf.
The proximity made you flustered, ofcourse it did. Even after months of living together, his presence made you nervous. Sometimes it felt like it got worse as time went by, especially after feeling his hard dick against you...twice.
You cleared your throat and moved away from him slightly. "Nothing, just happy with that Polaroid camera," you smiled, "Chinese tonight? I don't feel like cooking," you said, grabbing your keys off the bowl on the kitchen table.
"I could always cook. What are you craving?" he turned to you, holding his steaming cup of coffee, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, that slutty little shirt riding up enough to show that damn happy trail and those arms...god, he could choke you with those arms and you'd say thanks...you Sy, I'm craving you...right here, right now, on the kitchen table...heck, on the floor...I crave you...
"Sugar?"
"Chinese!" you blurred out. "I just really want some...uh...Chinese...you can cook tomorrow."
"Alright, love. Have a good day at work."
You were out the door before you could say anything else stupid...
Work was long and boring, the most interesting part was probably Liz still raving about her Paris trip with Clark, although that was starting to get a little old, and the fact that the concept of TMI doesn't exist to Liz didn't help get your mind out of the gutter...
After work, you rushed home with a steaming bag of delicious Chinese food in your hands. You swung the front door open and called out, "Honey, I'm home!", a little jokey thing you and Sy started doing a while ago. Usually, he responded quite quickly, asking you about your day as the two of you got settled on the couch. Only today, there was no answer. You'd think he was out for a walk, but Aika was circling around you silently begging for head pets, and he rarely went anywhere without Aika.
You took off your shoes, put down the bag of food on the table, and gave Aika a stern look. "Don't touch that, okay, darling?" you said, scratching her head. You made your way down the hall, assuming Sy was in his room playing video games or something.
Well, he was definitely in his room...and definitely playing with something...
The sounds of his deep groans filled your ears with every step you took closer to his door. Heat crept up your cheeks, as if it were following the sound all the way to the tips of your ears. Your mouth fell open a little bit, you socked feet slowly shuffling closer, curious.
"GHhrah, fuck..." he sounded almost in pain, "fuck, just like that, baby"
You stopped dead in your tracks, and all the colour drained from your face. Baby? Oh my god, did he have someone in there? Is this what he got up to when you were at work? Bringing over women? Into the home you shared together?
You knew it wasn't fully justified; you weren't a couple, you were roommates. Just roommates. Just as you started to spiral, his voice cut through the silence in the hallway once more, only this time his groans were followed by a name, YOUR name.
He moaned out your name, sounding desperate and utterly consumed. It sounded so good coming from his lips. He cursed again, calling for no one but you and God.
A deep, guttural sound rumbled from his chest, and then it was quiet. So quiet you could hear his heavy breaths through the wall. Or was that you?
The realization struck that you were now standing right in front of his door. You had listened to him, doing something very private and very intimate. It was wrong, so wrong. You remembered how embarrassed he looked when he got hard against you, you can't imagine how mortified he would be if you knew you had not only heard him jerk off, you heard him moaning your name while doing it.
You got dragged from your thoughts when you heard him shuffle around behind the door.
shit shit shit you had to get out of here...you tried your best to make your steps as big yet quiet as possible and made your way back to the front door. His bedroom door opened, and you heard the tap run in the bathroom as he washed his hands. You opened the front door again and slammed it shut, as though you had only just walked in.
Iâm so excited for the next few parts of ETS! You said part 28 will be lots of smut - I donât want to get greedy and ask for a sneak peak but likeâŠmaybe you could share the warnings for the chapter? Like what will we be dealing with here? đ€đ Just so my imagination can run wild while you finish up the next chapter
hey! part 27 is something I've been enjoying writing, but definitely part 28, too. No huge warnings, actually. It'll be oral (f/m) and p-in-v sex, cowgirl position---> which is a huge deal for Y/N!
It's around 10k or so right now, so in typical JC style, expect all the regular long-winded detailed writing as usual. Snippet:
Sy can always control himself right up until the second heâs about to come. Youâve learned that heâll only thrust his hips upwards when heâs right on the edge. Heâs too considerate otherwise, even going so far as to entirely back out of your mouth if he hears you choking even a little.
You encourage it, reaching over his hip to grip his asscheek, but with tightly-coiled legs and firm grip on your hair from out of nowhere, everything suddenly stills. Though you try to resist, Syâs strong when he pulls you off his dick with a loud popping sound, and a long string of saliva trails from your mouth as you look up at him. He swears under his breath, but you canât hear what he says. You just keep looking at him.
"Câmere, baby,â he mutters, nudging your hair. âCâmere.â
You climb back up to straddle his waist, feeling his hands instantly settle on your hips. Heavily breathing, your lips are parted when you wipe your hand across them. âYou good?â you shyly ask.
Again, Syâs hands begin to move everywhere, and they wonât stop. They run up and down your sides, around to your back and then to your ass, then back up your back again only to slide around to your breasts.
Just feeling around your skin, he groans, slow and deep. âYouâre so perfect.â
You want to say No, Iâm not, but you remind yourself that to Sy, you are, so you just offer a small smile and lean in to kiss him. With pillows behind his back, heâs somewhat propped up, and you move until youâre entirely smushed against his chest.
Wrapping your hands around his thick neck, you tilt your head to the side and deepen the kiss. Minutely, you begin moving your hips in little circles against Syâs skin again, just something to ease the ache, and then he starts talking into your mouth every time he inhales a small breath.
"Fuck.â Syâs hands come to rest on your ass, and he squeezes each cheek generously. âYouâre so fuckinâ hot. So pretty.â
With a whine, your eyes close instantly. Youâre rubbing your bare cunt across his stomach and you both have the taste of his dick in your mouths, and heâs calling you pretty.
Behind you, Sy reaches downwards and takes hold of himself. You feel a smear of liquid against your ass-cheek then the slow tell-tale movements of his hand pulling up and down, and it gives you the brief burst of confidence you need to brace a hand on his chest to lift your upper body up. While Syâs lazily stroking himself behind you, you start grinding your hips again, a little more evidently this time. It feels like it should be dirty, but with your eyes trained intently on one anotherâs, all it feels is right.
A few moments of pleasure later, you scoot downwards over his thighs and beckon Sy to move his hand from himself. You move further down onto his thighs until you look down and see his cock pointing at his belly button, and carefully, carefully, you cover it with your pussy and start to slide your wetness upwards from root to tip.
Sy stares between your bodies the best he can while breathing through his mouth, then his eyes flicker up to your face like he canât believe what heâs seeing. âFuck, Y/N,â he lets out, all in one hotly exhaled breath.
September had come and gone in what felt like the blink of an eye. The days blurred together as Ethan and the ranch hands threw themselves into preparations for the upcoming rodeo. It was the biggest event of the season, and the energy on the ranch was electric with anticipation. Now that Sy was back for good, heâd made the decision to join his brother at the rodeo. Partly because he loved the thrill of it just as much as anyone else, but more importantlyâto keep an eye on Ethan. Someone had to. Ethan had built quite a reputation for himself, both in the arena and out of it.
The rodeo scene was full of admirers, and Ethan had no trouble attracting attention. The âbuckle bunniesâ flocked to him, and he was more than happy to entertain their interest. While that wasnât necessarily a problem in itself, Ethan just had a knack for getting tangled up in complicated situations. He wasnât exactly known for his good judgment when it came to women, and more than once heâd found himself involved with someone who was already spoken for. In truth, Ethan seemed to enjoy the challenge. He didnât shy away from trouble and often went looking for it. That was exactly why Sy felt the need to tag along. Someone had to make sure Ethan didnât let his egoâor his impulsivenessâget the better of him.
The morning Sy and Ethan were set to leave for the rodeo, the ranch buzzed with energy and movement. The yard had turned into a whirlwind of organized chaos. Tack and feed were piled high in every direction, waiting to be sorted and loaded onto the trucks. Ranch hands moved swiftly, their routines practiced and efficient, as they prepared Echo and a couple of other seasoned horses for the journey. Saddles were checked and rechecked, bridles polished, and feed bags secured with care.
As Sy sifted through the paperwork and itinerary for the next few days, his brow furrowed. Something was missing. He flipped through the folder again, slower this time, and then it hit him. Ethanâs membership card wasnât there. He was just about to call out to his brother to ask where it had gone when someone caught his eye. Riley had just stepped out of the ranch house, the screen door creaking behind her as it swung shut. Sy paused, momentarily distracted. A warmth spread through his chest at the sight of her. There was something so natural about Riley coming and going from his home, like she belonged there. It wasnât forced or awkward, it just felt right.
She jogged down the last few steps of the veranda, her ponytail bouncing behind her, and Sy called out to her. Riley nearly jumped out of her skin, startled by the sudden sound.
âWhoa!â He said quickly, raising his hands in a calming gesture as she startled.
âYou alright?â he asked, his voice gentle but curious.
Riley blinked, clearly caught off guard.
âOh, erâyeah. I was just visiting Charlotte,â she replied, her tone a little too casual, a little too quick.
Sy narrowed his eyes slightly. She was stammering, like she was trying to cover something up.
âOh yeah?â he said, tilting his head.
âHowâs is she? Still barkinâ orders from her âthroneâ?â
His voice carried a teasing edge. He knew Charlotte was miserable being confined to her bedroom. Bossing people around was the last shred of control she had left, and she clung to it like a lifeline.
âBe nice,â Riley scolded playfully, giving him a look.
âYouâd be the same way if you were stuck in her shoes.â
Sy paused, considering that. Not the idea of being pregnant, but the thought of being forced into bed rest for weeks.
âNope,â he said finally, shaking his head.
âFour weeks in bed? Where do I sign up!â
Riley laughed, the tension easing slightly.
âSo what did the olâ girl want?â He asked, curiosity creeping back in.
âOh, just goinâ over plans for next seasonâs holiday drives,â she replied, her voice light.
It wasnât a lie. Charlotte and her had been talking about the holiday plans, but Sy could tell Riley was being deliberately vague. Her eyes flicked away for a moment too long, and her smile didnât quite reach her eyes. She was hiding something, and Sy knew it. He didnât press, not yet. But he filed it away, knowing heâd circle back to it eventually.
âWell, Iâm glad I found you, weâre all just about ready to leave. I wanted to say goodbye.â
Sy wrapped his arms around Riley, pulling her close until her body was pressed against his. His hands settled instinctively in the curve of her back like they belonged there. Riley felt a flicker of self-consciousness. The yard was bustling with activity: ranch hands and stable boys were everywhere, not to mention Syâs family were going to and fro from the house. It wasnât exactly a private moment.
Everyone knew about her and Sy by now and no one had batted an eye. If anything, it felt like theyâd all been waiting for it to happen. Still, Riley hadnât quite adjusted to how openly Sy showed his affection. He didnât hold back, not even in front of others. And while she didnât mind itâin fact, she loved that about himâit was unfamiliar territory. She wasnât used to being loved out loud.
âYou gonnaâ miss me when Iâm gone?â He asked huskily as if they were the only two people there.
Riley tilted her head, a playful glint in her eye. She twisted her mouth in mock contemplation, drawing out the moment.
âWell that depends.â
Sy let out a bark of laughter, loud and unfiltered, until Riley quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, her eyes darting toward the nearby ranch hands. He grinned beneath her palm, eyes sparkling with mischief.
âOkay, alright,â he said, pulling her hand away gently.
âDepends on what?â
He planted a chaste kiss to her knuckles before dropping her hand onto his chest.
âDid you leave that shirt I liked?â Her voice was almost a whisper.
Sy knew exactly what Riley was talking about. Since he got home, many of the t-shirts he used to wear in the army had gradually made their way into his everyday ranch wardrobe. There was nothing wrong with them. They were comfortable, durable, and carried memories he wasnât quite ready to let go of. Riley had commented on one shirt in particular just the other day. It was a red t-shirt his squad had gifted him one Christmas. On the front was a sniper skull graphic, and on the back was the acronym âDILLIGAF.â Sy had burst out laughing when he first got it. His squad had teased him for months, claiming the phrase summed up his attitude perfectly. And honestly, they werenât wrong.
âI might have.â He purred back.
Of course he had. The moment Riley had mentioned she liked that shirt, despite its frayed edges and the stubborn stains that refused to wash out, Sy had made sure to leave it behind.
âWell,â She pressed, her voice soft but teasing,
âI might just wear that to bed while youâre gone.â
Sy raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the suggestion. âOh yeah? Whyâs that?â
She stepped a little closer- if that were possible- her eyes locking with his. âIt smells like you,â she murmured. âI can keep you close while youâre away.â
Sy's smile grew broader, the glimmer of mischief now shining brightly in his eyes.. âYou gonna wear that for me?â
Rileyâs smile turned sly, âNuh uh,â she whispered, leaning in just enough to make his pulse race.
âIâm gonna wear just that while Iâm thinkinâ about ya.â
Sy groaned at the wanton image he pictured of Riley in their bed, touching herself. A rush of desire shot straight to his groin and he cursed quietly before pressing his lips against hers. He kissed her passionately and almost dominantly in front of everyone. The ranch hands and stable boys wandering around the yard began whistling and hollering at their little display. Riley could feel her ears tinge pink at the commotion and slipped out of Syâs grasp, biting her lip suggestively as she walked away.
Sy shook his head in disbelief as she climbed onto one of the ranchâs ATVâs. She turned the engine over and pulled the vehicle around before she passed him.
âYouâre in trouble when I get back.â He shouted over the noise of the engine.
âIâm countinâ on it.â She threw back before driving away.
He laughed softly to himself, the sound barely audible over the hum of the evening. Riley Coleman was a little minx. She was clever, unpredictable, and utterly captivating.
Sy was broken from his thoughts by the sound of Ethan shouting his name.
âYeah, yeah Iâm cominâ. But you arenât, little brother!â He scolded lightly.
âWhat dâya mean?â Ethan replied with an edge.
âYour PRCA membership is missinâ.â
Ethanâs face broke into panic for a second. That membership card was vital for him registering at the rodeo. He began shaking out his pockets and made a quick fumble around the cab of the truck, before a thought struck him.
âCheck in the office, I was in there last printinâ out the itinerary. It could be on the desk.â
Sy rolled his eyes and begrudgingly set off in search of Ethanâs missing membership card. He walked through the office towards the desk at the far end, groaning as he took in the mess Ethan had left behind. Papers were scattered everywhere, some crumpled, others half-printed and abandoned mid-task. It was chaos. Riley ran the office like a well-oiled machine. Everything had its place, and everything stayed in its place. Ethanâs approach was⊠less structured. His version of âfilingâ looked more like a paper explosion.
Sy began sifting through the clutter, lifting sheets and flipping through half-folded documents. He was trying to be careful, but in the process, he knocked over a short stack of paperwork. Cursing under his breath, he crouched to gather the fallen pages. Thatâs when he saw it. Peeking out from beneath the pile was a glossy magazine, its cover half-hidden but unmistakably out of place. Sy paused, frowning. It wasnât the kind of thing youâd expect to find in a ranch office. Feed catalogues or equipment supplies, sure they wouldn't have been out of place in the office. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, curiosity piqued. He wasnât one to snoop but something about the magazine tugged at his attention. He narrowed his eyes, flipping it open slowly.
Searching for Ethanâs lost membership card was no longer Syâs priority. His focus had shifted the moment he started flipping through the glossy pages of the magazine. By the fourth page, it was clear it wasnât just any magazine. It was a professionally designed holiday brochure.
And not just any holiday brochure.
It was for the Coleman Creek Ranch - Montana.
Syâs eyes narrowed as he scanned the sleek, polished images of a modern-day working ranch. The layout was clean, the photography professional and the descriptions were clearly crafted by a PR team, full of buzzwords like authentic, immersive, and luxurious. It promised visitors a taste of ranch life without sacrificing comfort, a curated experience of the wild wrapped in five-star hospitality.
Syâs stomach turned as he saw the last page. A full-color photo of Riley, smiling proudly on top of a horse he didnât recognise. Beneath it was a short blurb:
âRiley Coleman, the eldest daughter of the Coleman clan, envisioned a way to share the Montana life she and her family love with guests from across the country. Her passion for ranching and hospitality led to the creation of the Coleman Creek Ranch Experience.â
Syâs heart sank as he read the final line. This couldnât be true. Riley had moved all the way down here and had set herself up as a successful foreman. She wonât be leaving! Sy then replayed the last conversation they had here in this office. She had asked him if he was ready to take over. Now, the truth hit him like a punch to the chest. She hadnât been worried about competition, sheâd been preparing to say goodbye. She was making sure someone would be there to carry on when she left. Sy suddenly felt foolish. He hadnât seen it coming, hadnât read between the lines. And now, staring at her smiling face in the brochure, he realized sheâd already begun to move on.
It was a ranch hand that brought Sy back to reality when he appeared at the door. He explained Ethan had found the membership they were looking for in his wallet and that the team were ready to leave. Sy nodded, his movements slow, almost reluctant. He gathered the scattered papers and placed them back on the desk, his fingers lingering on the brochure. With a quiet sigh, he slid it back beneath the pile, hiding it where it had clearly been meant to stay out of sight.
Life on the ranch carried on as normal for the next few weeks. As the last of the guests waved goodbye to Heartland, the family and ranch hands slipped seamlessly back into their routines. The hum of daily chores returnedâhorses to be fed, fences to be checked, and fields to be tended. Well, almost everyone got stuck in. Charlotteâs pregnancy had finally caught up with her, and each day seemed to sap a little more of her energy. Her usual determination gave way to the quiet reality that her body needed rest. Eventually, she admitted defeat and put herself on bed rest, reluctantly handing over her duties. With the girls back at school, the house was quieter during the day, which helped. Noah and Emma took turns doting on Charlotte, making sure she had everything she needed as she prepared for the birth.
Ethan, meanwhile, was almost back to âfighting fitâ. His cast had come off, and he wasted no time getting back in the saddle. Echo responded eagerly, as if the horse had missed their rides just as much. Despite Bryan and Emmaâs repeated pleas for him to take it easy, Ethan was determined to push himself. It wasnât surprising, reallyâheâd never been one to sit still for long, none of the Syversonâs could.
Now that Sy was permanently back on the ranch, he was proving to be a reliable pair of hands. He mucked out stables without complaint, hauled feed down to the bottom paddock, and tackled any odd job that came his way. Riley couldnât help but admit that having him around was a godsend. His quiet strength and willingness to help made the days smoother. And having him around at night? That was even better.
Sy and Riley spent every evening together in her cozy cottage at the far end of the estate. Once the original ownersâ home when the ranch was first purchased, the cottage had a rustic charm. It was modest compared to the main ranch house, but perfect for oneâand now, perfect for two. Sy had practically moved in and he and Riley were making the most of getting to know one another - it was lots of fun!
As the dry, hot days of summer slowly gave way to the crisp air of fall, the ranch began its seasonal shift. The mornings grew cooler and the sun dipped earlier behind the hills. It was a time of transition, and the ranch hands and cowboys knew the rhythm well. They set to work weaning the calves, a task that was always noisy and a little heartbreaking. The bawling of separated mothers and babies echoed across the fields as the bulls were moved away from the sows, and the cattle were gradually herded toward the lower winter pasture. It was hard, physical workâdust kicked up under boots, muscles strained under the weight of feed sacks and fencing gearâbut then, life on the ranch was never easy, no matter the season.
For Riley, fall brought a different kind of challenge. She spent most of her days tucked away in her office, surrounded by paperwork, spreadsheets, and supply lists. Preparing the ranch for winter was no small feat. There was winter wheat to be ordered, heartier feed to be sourced for the cattle, and equipment to be checked and repaired before the first frost. Every decision carried weight, and every purchase chipped away at the budget. The fall was always an expensive time of year. The profits from the summerâs holiday cattle drives helped ease the burden, but even so, Riley couldnât ignore the rising costs. She ran the numbers again and again, trying to stretch every dollar just a little further.
One afternoon as she scratched her head and willed her brain to make sense of the numbers dancing on the screen, her eye spotted the brochure Chris gave her almost two months ago. She pulled it out of the intray and thumbed through the glossy pages slowly, the vibrant images and polished promises striking a chord. She had remarked when she first saw it, that the idea Chris was trying to pitch was everything she and Charlotte were trying to achieve at Heartland. Her heart gave a sad pull as she remembered what her little brother had told her. He wanted her to come âhomeâ. Back then home was an idea that was only half formed in her mind. Now? Home at heartland meant something infinitely different.
Riley pushed the idea from her mind as Sy knocked on her office door and strode inside.
âThought you could use a pick-me-up,â Sy said warmly, his voice rich with quiet affection as he placed a steaming cup of coffee on Rileyâs desk.
Before he could notice the flicker of emotion crossing her face, she slid the brochure back beneath the pile of invoices in her tray, hiding it like a secret she wasnât ready to share.
âYou need to take a break from the screen, boss. Donât want you gettinâ square-eyed,â Sy teased, his voice low and playful, laced with just enough warmth to make her heart skip.
He leant casually against the corner of Rileyâs desk and dipped his head, closing the space between them with quiet confidence. His lips brushed hers gently, the kiss was both grounding and electric, like a pause in the chaos of her day.
Riley huffed out a soft laugh, amused by the blatant way Sy was trying to pull her away from her work. His charm was never subtle, and today was no exception. As he leaned back to perch on the edge of her desk, she reached out instinctively, curling her fingers into the front of his shirt. With a gentle tug, she pulled him back toward her, their faces close enough for her breath to mingle with his. This time, the kiss deepenedâno longer just a playful distraction. Their lips met with quiet urgency, and as their tongues danced together, something shifted. Sy could feel it. Beneath the warmth of her touch and the softness of her sighs, there was something elseâsomething unspoken. It was uncanny how quickly he could read her.
âWhatâs goinâ on, boss.â He said affectionately against her lips, his hand coming to rest lightly against her cheek, anchoring her.
âNow that youâre back here for goodâŠâ Riley began, her voice tinged with nervous uncertainty. She hesitated, eyes flicking up to meet Syâs. âShouldnât it be you?â
Sy frowned slightly, leaning back on the desk. âWhat dâya mean?â he asked, genuinely puzzled.
She took a breath, then gestured vaguely around the office. âBoss. Shouldnât that be you now that youâre back on the ranch full-time?â
The question hung in the air between them, heavier than sheâd intended. Sy looked at her, surprisedânot just by the suggestion, but by the vulnerability behind it. He mulled over his answer for a beat, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. He didnât have to think for too long. He knew what his answer was.
âNot a chance,â Sy said, his voice firm but gentle, the kind of tone that left no room for doubt.
âIâm sure thatâs what my Pop mightâve wanted once. Me stepping up, taking the reins. But things have changed.â
He looked at Riley, his gaze steady and full of quiet admiration.
âNow heâs got you. This is your ranch, Riley. People look to you, not because they have to, but because they trust you.â
Riley blinked, caught off guard by the conviction in his words. Sheâd expected hesitation, maybe even a little resistance. But instead, Sy was handing her the truth she hadnât quite let herself believe.
âThis place runs because of you,â he added, softer now. âIâm here to help, always. But youâre the heart of it.â
âBesidesââ Sy continued, a playful glint in his eye and a teasing edge to his voice. The corner of his mouth curled into that familiar half-smile that always made Rileyâs stomach flip.
He reached out and gently pulled her up from her office chair, guiding her between his spread thighs. His hands settled on her hips, thumbs tracing slow, lazy circles through the denim of her jeans as he looked up at her with a mix of affection and mischief.
âI kinda like you bossinâ me around,â he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to make her pulse quicken. âItâs kinda sexy.â
Riley rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.
âOh yeah?â Rileyâs tone matched his; playful and edged with curiosity.
She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion.
âIâd have thought you army guys would be sick of takinâ orders.â
Her voice dipped lower, adopting a husky drawl that noticeably changed the air between them.
Sy chuckled, the sound low and warm.
âWell, I was a Captain,â he said, his hands sliding around her hips to cover the swell of her backside, pulling her closer.
âI was usually the one givinâ the orders. Itâs kinda nice⊠relinquishing control for once.â
Rileyâs eyebrows shot up, nearly disappearing into her hairline. She gave him a look that was half amused, half incredulous.
âYou couldâve fooled me, cowboy!â Her voice was teasing but laced with challenge.
âThatâs not what you were doinâ last night.â
Sy grinned, unabashed.
âLast night was a tactical maneuver,â he said, leaning in just enough to brush his nose against hers.
âAnd Iâd say it was pretty successful.â
They kissed a final time, this time just a quick chaste peck. When Sy tapped Riley on the backside, signalling he was getting up, she yipped in surprise.
Sy gave her a seductive wink in return as he walked back towards the office door.
âSee you later, beautiful. Don't let that get cold.â
He pointed towards the coffee he brought, his voice light but serious.
Riley nodded in response and smiled softly at his concern for her wellbeing. As he left the office she sat back down at her desk and rolled her tongue around her mouth, contemplating her next move. She slid Chris's brochure back out from its hiding spot and looked at it with a hard gaze. She grabbed a post it note from the block on her desk and quickly scribbled a number and message on top.
Eyes That See Summary: Your life has consisted of caring for others. This is a story of you learning to care for yourself.
Eyes That See Part 26 Summary: You meet up with some friends at âThe Restaurantâ, but your friends arenât the only ones you end up having conversations with; your ex is also there. Syâs serious about Michael leaving you alone, for good.
Words: 7k
TW: some tense macho stuff between Sy and MichaelâŠsome covert narcissism from MichaelâŠ.thatâs about it. Alcohol consumption.
A/N: I know everyone's dying for a full-on brawl, but maybe that'll happen sometime in the future. đ This part actually gets really sentimental at the very end.
After exiting the library, Sy drives you back to the hotel where you both immediately close the curtains and get in bed. Under the blankets, you cuddle, and itâs both for your sake and for his; you know his instincts must be screaming to take care of you right now. After hearing the not-so-great memories of your time with Michael, Syâs acting like he wants to personally make up for your past neglect.
Youâll take it.Â
You and Sy share the same pillow as he spoons you from behind, and with his arms wrapped entirely around you, youâre in a fortress. Nothing can be wrong or go wrong because youâre protected, and Syâs protection is pure safety. Far from controlling, itâs for no other reason but to simply take care of you.
Eventually, your breathing starts to sync. As you both feel the physical effects from the drive this morning and the emotional effects from the conversation held recently, itâs easy to drift unconscious together. You both end up napping for over two hours.
When you wake up, you find yourself on your stomach with Sy practically covering your entire right side. It makes you briefly fantasize about what itâd be like if he were really, really covering you as close as he could get, you laying prone and him entirely on top of you. In the past, that always made you feel claustrophobicâsometimes you couldnât actually breathe very well which you hatedâbut now, you know youâd like it. Even if Sy gave you every single pound of his body weight, you know youâd enjoy it.Â
You then begin to fantasize about what itâd feel like to be in that position without any layers of clothing separating you, and for a while, as Sy snores quietly behind you, your mind just drifts.Â
Youâre bad at proposing new stuff and even worse at initiating, so maybe youâll just have to drop a hint one of these days or something. If you really wanted to, you could back your ass up suggestively until Sy woke up, but despite your vivid daydreams, you actually donât even feel like messing around right now. Last night was enough to satiate you for a long, long time.Â
Last night, Sy held your hands together above your head for the first time while he fucked you deep and slow, yet with a force that drove you up his bed on every thrust. He didnât whisper many dirty things down to you like usual, but his intensity alone was deafeningly loud.Â
He kept almost unbreaking eye-contact like reverence, and the normal smug satisfied expression thatâd typically show on his face while giving you pleasure was replaced by something fervent instead, something dominant. Like he was consuming you.Â
And with your wrists held together in just one of his hands the whole time, it practically was like he was consuming you. That you were his. That you are his. And youâd never felt so helpless while being so entirely okay with that.Â
You havenât spoken today about that moment because you spoke about it enough in the tender afterglow last night. âIâve never had anything like this,â Sy admitted, and you just looked up at him and whispered, âMe, either.â âI want this forever,â he said next, and you detected nothing but sincerity. âI do, too. I really, really do, too.â
You get that the intensity and sentimentality from last night was most likely a factor with how the run-in with Michael went earlier today, and definitely a factor with how many big feelings Syâs expressed since hearing about your experiences with him. Syâd made you fall apart under him just last night, and then the very next day, heâs finding out about all the times your ex-boyfriendâŠmistreated you in bed.Â
Maybe you shouldâve waited âtil another day to disclose so much, but you just felt like it was time. Raw as everything was, youâre glad youâre not carrying it alone anymore. Syâs told you before that you donât have to shoulder heavy things by yourself all the time. Now, you arenât. Now, youâre lighter.
Sy wakes up when you shift around underneath him to go use the bathroom, and the time after that is lazy in the room as you both lay in bed and fully wake up. While Sy watches the news on TVâjust itching to actually do something besides lay around, you can tellâyou start getting ready for tonightâs hangout with your friends. You even do something extra with your hair.Â
You're just so excited to reunite with people you haven't seen in years and to introduce them to Sy. You put on a little more makeup than you usually do, and afterwards, you and Sy get dressed together and both choose simple things to change into since this is your hometown youâre in, after all: long-sleeved shirts, jeans without holes, and bootsâyours high up your calves over your jeans, Syâs just regular work-boots scrubbed clean.Â
Your shirt dips down just below your collarbone so that your new necklace rests directly on your skin and shines resplendently. It really is beautiful. You imagine wearing an actual nice dress with it on and how cool thatâd feel to be so dressed up. Still, you look in the mirror and feel pretty. Sy kisses your forehead and says out loud you do.
Sy offers to drive, and with the hotel being a small distance from the restaurant youâre meeting your friends at, you have time to look out the windows and point out all the stuff you see while he follows your directions.
âThereâs my old elementary school.â
âOoh, that was my first job over there. I served snow cones.â
âMy grandparents live way back behind those trees. Weâll see them sometime soon, just don't know when. Maybe tomorrow.â
âJustine grew up in that house there.â
At your destination, you text your friend Deseree right as Sy is opening the passenger-side door for you. Inside the restaurantâand you donât even know if thatâs the right word to call this place because itâs a part-bar, part-poolhall, and part restaurantâyou try to find her. It takes a few seconds, but eventually you notice Deseree waving at you from a table by the far wall, and you break out into a grin.Â
âThis way,â you tell Sy.
At the table with Des are a bunch of other old friends from schoolâKiesha, Jasmine, and Natalieâand their dates. Theyâve pushed two tables together to all sit with one another, and the air is quickly filled with introductions and reunion hugs and chatter. Most of the guys you either know or at least recognize from school.Â
As Sy goes around and introduces himself and even shakes everyoneâs hands, you find yourself smiling, but itâs dialed down, more like ninety-percent. In the back of your mind, thereâs the incessant reminder that Michaelâs here, some small anxiety that heâs somehow gonna ruin your night.Â
You try to block out that thought and remain mentally strong. You know heâll be here since he said he would be, and because of that, you know heâs bound to try talking to you, too. Realizing that as an inevitable fact actually helps you relax.Â
Itâll be fine, anyway. Youâve got Sy and all of your friends here.Â
After hanging your jackets on the backs of two chairs, you and Sy go to the bar to get drinks. Sy opens a tab and orders a beer for himself and something fruity for you, and while waiting, you notice a little bit of lint at the top of Syâs shirt. You brush it off and briefly look up to notice him looking around scoping out the entire room.
âThat him?â Sy quietly asks once heâs people-watched enough to spot your ex.
You follow his line-of-sight and give a little nod. You purposefully donât look at Michael for more than a split-second, but itâs enough for you to feel his eyes on you, anyway. Ugh. The bartender passes you your drink over the bar the next instant, and you find a napkin to cover the top of the glass before turning around to head back to your friends.
You briefly consider tossing back your drink and asking everyone to go somewhere else even though youâd just arrived, but this is your hometown youâre talking about here; the choices are slim. Each little hole-in-the-wall place has its own reputation, and even in a town this small, itâs not easy for a group of non-regulars to just show up without drawing attention, unfortunately. At least here you comfortably fit in.Â
You shift your focus on walking back to the table where everyone is having lively conversation. Your smile becomes more genuine after that, at least. Thereâs something satisfying to know that Sy and your ex are in the same room and that Syâs the one with his arm around you. That Syâs the one that gets to have you in a way that he could never ever come close to.
Taking a seat at the table, you finally take a look at Syâs face and see that he is most definitely not smiling. You shake your head, almost laughing. âDamn, Sy, if looks could kill right nowââ
âThen heâd be dead.â
You frown a little. âHey,â you lightly say. âForget about it for now. Letâs just try to have fun.â
He nods as if itâs taking every instinct he has to restrain himself. "I wonât make a scene.â
âOkay.â
âBut if he does one fuckinâ thing while weâre here,â he mutters menacingly, âIâm not lettinâ it go. He needs to be held accountable. And Iâve got no problem at all being the one to do it.â
And okayâŠmaybe that excites you a little. You may discretely squirm in your chair.
You have a lot of fun catching up with everyone and you're thrilled when Sy hits it off with one of your friend's husbands, connecting immediately over sports the way that men easily can do.Â
âŠBut you still canât entirely relax. Not even when Sy senses your anxiety and begins kneading the muscle of your shoulder a few times before securely setting his hand there.
Itâs justâyou know thereâs gonna have to be some sort of interaction with Michael tonight. Something. Itâs inevitable. To avoid it as much as possible, though, you stick to your table, you go to the bathroom in pairs, you stay aware of your surroundings. Youâre able to let loose a little in the warm cocoon of alcohol.
Sy knows an altercation is bound to happen, too, and when everyone moves to circle around a pool table on the other side of the restaurant instead of eating dinner right away, he checks in with you a little more than usual. You can tell he wants to be your guard-dog now considering the occupants in the room, but you want him to have a good time tonight, too.
âIf he ends up saying something to me tonight, which he will, I'll be fine,â you tell Sy. âI'll look at you if I need you to step in or whatever.â
Sy nods. You canât help but internally laugh at how his face looks like heâs preparing for combat.
After two drinks imbibed pretty quickly, your back-to-back bathroom trips canât continue to be with someone else; you have to pee so frequently that you know it'll get annoying asking someone to go with you every time. Youâll slow it down after this and just let the alcohol youâve already drank run its course.
Three women are ahead of you in the line that leads to the womenâs bathroom, so you lean on the wall as you wait. Immediately next to you is the wall leading to the menâs room, and thereâs no one in line. Not one person.Â
You sigh, and then you gasp. There next to you suddenly, like a real life whack-a-mole youâd love to smash, appears the shape of Michael.
Of course youâre surprised, but you shouldnât be. You knew heâd find the opportunity somehow. Knew it. Youâre very aware of Syâs eyes on you, however, so you donât freak out. Plusâthose drinks from earlier. Youâre fine. Youâre fine. Heâs just some person.
Michael opens his arms as if heâs expecting a hug, and you scowl at him. âYou come alone?â he asks.Â
You scowl even deeper and donât even give him the benefit of hearing your voice. You cross your arms and remain silent. You fucking know he knows who you came here with. You know he saw you earlier with Sy.Â
âAh, donât be like that,â he lowers his arms and says, going so far as to pull a pouting face. âCâmon.â
You take a step ahead in line and literally give him the cold shoulder. When youâre finally able to enter the bathroom a few moments after that, youâre grateful for the escape. You take an extra long time washing your hands, and by the time youâre done, youâre in a better mood. You hold open the door to let the next woman waiting in line inside and even cheerfully smile at her.
On your walk back to the pool table, a hand pulls at the crease of your arm. âActinâ like you donât even know me.â
You whip around and take a step backwards. âWhat the fuck is your problem?â you bite. âDonât touch me.â
âOoh, there she is,â Michael laughs. âKnew it would come out eventually.â
âBecause youââ You ball up your fists and take a deep breath. Youâre not going to react. Youâre not going to react. Heâs testing you. This is what he does.Â
Reacting to his bullshit is one of the reasons you got in so many fights in the past. He knows exactly what to say and do to push your buttons. He justâhe knows you too well. All because you stupidly opened up to him about every single vulnerable thing there was to possibly open up about. Back when you trusted him. Back when you stood up for him when your friends and family noticed changes in you and urged you to leave him.
"I'd tell you it was good seein' you, but I'd hate to lie," you mutter. "Bye."
As you walk away, you hear, âBitch.â
You frown, and instantly, itâs like youâre reliving the past. The bad feelings he'd leave you with after every single conversation. The yearning inside to do whatever was necessary to just make it right again, to make him love you again, to apologize so you were forgiven.Â
Youâre past that, though. You donât need his approval anymore. Heâs nothing.
You walk past the bar and make it back to the pool table in a less chipper mood than youâd left it. Sy's jaw is stiff when you walk up to him.
âDid he grab you just now?â
âIgnored him all I could until he touched me, yeah,â you mumble. âTold him not to, got called a bitch. Pretty on par for him.â
âHe has no right to touch you,â Sy says, then as an afterthought, adds, âor call you that.â
You chuckle. âIf thatâs all it was, then Iâll count myself lucky.â
Sy looks almost pained when he turns to face you again, then his face hardens. âIâm gonna go talk to him.â
Your mouth gets dry. âYouâre in the middle of a game right now,â you point out.
Sy rests his cue stick against the wall. âIt can wait.â
You lower your voice. âPlease donât. Not now,â you almost plead. âMaybe later, butâbut not now.â
You just want to have a normal fucking time with him without ruining it yet again with bullshit from your past. Syâs eyes search your face and soften a little at whatever they see. Reminding you of a dog being pulled back on a leash, he unwillingly relents. He takes a sip of the beer heâs been nursing all night and places it on the ledge behind him.
âHey,â you say to break the tension, âdâyou want another beer or are you waitinâ âtil we eat?â
He shrugs. âI could do with one more, I guess.â
âCool, Iâll go get it,â you offer, and you give him a look that says, the bar is, like, ten steps away, and he just bothered me a second ago so heâs not gonna bother me again so soon after.Â
Syâs fingers graze your waist as you step away.
You walk up to the center of the bar. Two women who have been sitting on bar-stools all night are to your right, and after they order more drinks for themselves, you order water for yourself and a bottle of beer for Sy. After that, an older gentleman approaches your left side and requests an old fashioned.
While patiently waiting your turn to order, you see blankness on the young bartenderâs face immediately. He actually looks nervous.Â
âI, uhâIâm not sure IâŠI think I'll have to look up how to make that.â
This bartender is clearly overwhelmed with three different sets of customers. You lean forward. "It's just two ounces of bourbon, a quarter ounce bitters, some simple syrup, and an orange peel,â you tell him before pointing to the glasses behind him. âServed in that little glass right there. Put ice in it first, then mix it all up and stir.â
"Damn," he laughs. "Wanna step behind here and show us how itâs done?â
You nervously take a step back. If Sy sees you talking too much to a male bartender like this, it'll look like you're flirting.
No, it won't. It's Sy. Sy's secure. You offer the guy a smile and mutter something about how you used to be a bartender.Â
The guy makes drinks in the order they were placed, starting with the womenâs cocktails on your right. Unfortunately, even though theyâve clearly ordered the same drink, the bartender doesnât know how to make multiple drinks at the same time, so he does them individually. It takes quite a long time, and itâs not helped by the fact that he must be new. The poor guy has to remake almost every drink twice before theyâre right.Â
You know how it goes, so youâre definitely not going to complain. You just glance up at the televisions behind the bar and start watching an NFL divisional game between the Steelers and the Ravens while sort of whistling in your head. You continue minding your own business until the women's conversation beside you grabs your attention.
"That man is fuckin' fiiine," the one on the left quietly murmurs right before lifting her finally-finished drink to her mouth.Â
The woman beside her makes a short, moaning noise. "He's a whole damn snack is what he is," she comments, and you canât help but side-eye them to see who theyâre talking about.Â
Just then, the bartender places two napkins on the bar in front of you and sets down a glass of ice water and a longneck bottle of beer. You pick up both drinks before discretely peeking in the direction that both of the women are shamelessly ogling. Thatâs when you notice Sy, the only man in their line-of-sight, bending over the pool table to take his shot. Not being able to help it, you chuckle.Â
"He really is, isn't he?" you turn your head and ask, flashing a bright smile to both of the women.Â
Carrying your drinks away from the bar, you walk directly towards Sy, and when you give him his beer, he leans down to kiss you. You donât over-exaggerate the kiss or anything. You donât.Â
Sy lifts his eyebrows and one of his arms, and you step in close to his side. "You feelin' alright?" he asks in a low voice.Â
âFine as wine,â you answer.
He laughs and winks at you before motioning his head to the bar. "Tryna get another part-time job?"
"Oh, you heard that?â you ask with a grin. âYeah, Iâm just the best trainer ever, what can I say? Training country-wide.â
âThat actually ainât a bad idea.â
You grin and take a sip of your water. Another game of pool starts up, and Deseree decides that itâs a good idea for everyone to place food orders now so thingsâll be ready for all eight of you after the game ends. That takes a little time, but when the guys are occupied again with the new pool game, you and your friends stand by the wall and fall into your usual rhythmâtaking pictures, laughing at inside jokes, and catching up.
Back at your table, everyone enjoys dinner while still happily chatting with one another. As they all drink more, they get louder and more outgoing, and eventually the conversation turns to wild stories from years past. There are a few things that you arenât too proud of that Sy hears about, but he laughs so hard his shoulders shake, so thereâs that.Â
After youâre done with your sophisticated dinner of chicken and french fries, you get one more drink for yourself--nowhere near your friendsâ level of intoxication yet no desire to catch upâto sip on for the rest of your time here. The rest of the evening passes just sitting at the table and easily talking together. Sy continues to shoot the shit with some of your friends, you keep catching up with others, and the mood isâŠhappy.Â
Eventually, once everyoneâs plates have long since been cleared from the table, your buzz tapers off into more of a relaxed state of mind. As the night drags on, though, you find yourself actually getting too mellow. Even though youâd taken a nap earlier on, you yawn so largely you have to cover your mouth with your hand.
Sy looks over you and doesnât say a word. You simply nod at him. Youâve been here almost four hours.
âWell, think weâre gonna get, yâall,â Sy says before he stands up and puts on his jacket. Afterward, he shakes everyoneâs hands again, the perfect asshole, and you offer everyone hugs.Â
Deseree actually reaches out to hold your hands after you hug. She may be drunk, but she seems genuine when she says, âItâs so nice to have you home again. I miss you. We all miss you. You look so good. Your boyfriend is so hot. You look so good together.â
âWow, like, six compliments at once,â you respond with a grin. âYouâre gonna make my head so big.â
She giggles and squeezes your hands before letting them go. âNot, like, in a bitchy way, but you look so much better than the last time I saw you. Like, healthier. You look really happy.â
You divert your eyes for a second.
âI didnât say that stuff in a bad way!â sheâs sure to point out. âIt wasnât like I was sayinâ you looked like shit before or anything.â
âOh, I know,â you reassure with a little smile. âThanks. Really. SoâŠIâll be in touch whenever Iâm back in town?â
âYes, of course!â she replies enthusiastically, and your smile widens to take up half your face. âAnd if Iâm ever in the A-T-L, Iâll hit you up, too.â
âJeez, youâre drunk,â you murmur, and she cackles. She tries to do some hand-symbol with both of her hands, but she fails. You grin at her attempts, anyway.
Youâre still smiling when you gesture to Sy that youâre making one last restroom trip, and youâre still smiling on your way to theâugh, ridiculously longâbathroom line.
âY/N, hey,â a voice says not even five seconds later, and itâs twinged with something that sounds like gentleness. After experiencing what true gentleness is, it sounds all wrong. Â
You had honestly forgotten all about Michael until now.Â
âUggggggghhhh,â you dramatically groan. âWhyyyy.â
âIt ainât too late, you know,â he comments, and the moment he takes a step forward, you take a step backwards, pulling your jacket around your body closer. Gross.Â
âIâm aware,â you curtly say, looking up at the clock between the bathroom doors. âDonât make fun of me for leaving early.â
âNo, I mean, it ainât too late for us.â
You squint your eyes at him. âWhatâre you even sayinâ?â
Looking to the side for a moment, Michael shrugs. When he looks back at you, his eyes pull downwards like a wounded animal. âIâve missed you. Iâve really fucking missed you. I was thinkinâ, you could move back. We couldâŠpick things back up where we left âem. You know. Try again.â He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs, coming across almost sheepish. âIâve been studying to get my insurance license for a while now, and Iâm gonna take the test soon. When I pass, Iâll be good to go out there and sell to anyone. Iâll have all my own clients.â
He looks soâŠinnocent. So charming. A perfect mixture of flirtatiousness and persuasive eyes and heavy cologne. A salesman. Now a prospective insurance salesman.
You scowl. âI should slap you,â you say, and Michaelâs expression turns into utter shock.Â
"Look, Y/N, I know I fucked up, but if you hadn't blocked my number and moved to fuckin' bum-fuck I-donât-fuckinâ-know-whereââÂ
âI didnât block your number, dumbass, I had to get an entirely new phone because you could track my old one since it was on your plan. Like you used to do when we lived together. And donât turn this around and say âif you hadnt done this, if youâd only done that,â" you seethe. âNot when youâve done so much fucking damage to me that I need professional fucking help.â
âWhat the hell are you talkinâ about?â he asks, his voice lilting in offended confusion. âI didnâtâDamage, Y/N? Really?â
âYes.â
âDamage,â he repeats condescendingly. âThe hell kinda damage?â
You wonât interact anymore, not when youâve already said more than you wanted to. You wonât re-live this. You wonât. You turn to walk away from the bathrooms. Youâll go piss on the side of the road on the way to the hotel if you have to.
Michael instantly reaches out. Wrapping his entire hand around your arm and squeezing, itâs like you can feel his bare fingers on your skin even through your jacket.Â
âWhat kinda damage?â he repeats, shaking you. âI never laid my hands on you.â
You fight fruitlessly to get out of his grip. âYou are right now, you dick.â You slap Michaelâs knuckles as hard as you can. âLet me go.â
Syâs gonna come. Heâs gotta come. He knows that Michaelâs here, of course, so heâs already on high-alert, and you know heâs bound to be watching. âŠFrom somewhere. You turn and look around and just canât locate him right off the bat.
Michael sighs and drops his hand. âIâm not hittinâ you, Jesus,â he mutters. âYou canât just say somethinâ like that and then not say anything else.â
You told yourself you wouldnât interact, but that has you whipping around in anger. âI can do whatever the fuck I want, Mike. You left me,â you hiss, moving away from the bathroom queue entirely. âDo I need to remind you? You left me.â
âAnd I tried cominâ backâI texted you a thousand timesâonly to find that you werenât even in the same fuckinâ state anymore,â he retaliates, and then his voice gets quieter and almost tender. âI had so much goinâ on back then, Y/N, and I had to take some time--I just needed some time to just be by myself, and I went to a doctor and everything. But then you justâweren't around anymore. You didnât text me back. You deleted all your socials. Changed the locks on the apartment.â
You take another step back from him and blink. âOkay, this is guilt-tripping,â you mutter to yourself. This is why you used to feel blameworthy all the time. This is him making you feel like you need to apologize for something.Â
But youâve done nothing wrong.Â
Yet again, you take another step away--only to freeze when you hear a familiar voice so unfamiliarly caustic and so not-Sy that you momentarily blanch.
âWhyâd I have a feelinâ this is where Iâd fuckinâ find you?â Sy asks with a voice you can only describe as venomous. âLike a leech, I swear. The fuckinâ balls.â
âI do have fuckinâ balls,â Michael says while straightening himself and practically puffing out his chest.Â
Sy huffs in disinterest. âGood for you. Want a medal or just some measurinâ tape?â
Michaelâs quiet for a minute as he stares at Sy. You recognize from the expression on his face that heâs holding a grudge about Sy accusing him of having no balls on two separate occasions now. âFuck you, man, I'm just talkinâ here. You donât even know me.â
âI know enough,â Sy mutters out his reply. âAnd thatâs more than you deserve.â
Michaelâs face turns cocky with sarcasm. âOkay, âcause that makes sense.â He levels you with a look. âMight be big and buff, but he's just a stupid jock, huh?â
Sy steps closer to Michael. âFuckinâ try me.â
From behind Sy you frown, and though youâve been steadily backing away from this hyper-masculine showdown that's gone from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds, now you take several steps forward to stick up for Sy.Â
Blatantly, your arm brushes against Syâs as you make eye contact with Michael. âDonâtchu ever talk about him like that,â you threaten. âEver.â
âI was just talking to you, Y/N,â Michael says. The tone heâs using alludes to innocence, alludes to you blowing this situation out of proportion. âI just wanted to talk.â
âOkay,â you look away and mumble to yourself. âAnd thatâs gaslighting. Thatâsâthatâs when he would make me question my version of reality. âCauseâŠhe wasnât just trying to talk.â
You slowly look up at Sy, and thereâs pride on his face when he looks down at you. âGood job,â he mouths.
Due to how quietly youâre speaking compared to the liveliness of the restaurant around you, Michael misses your exchange with Sy. He repeats himself.
âYou donât need your huge military-lookinâ boyfriend to come in and protect you from me or something,â he says, wiggling his fingers in the air as if saying âoooh, Iâm so scaryâ. âAll I was doinâ was talking to you.â
You tilt your head to the side. âYou were literally tryinâ to convince me to give you a second chance.â
âDo what now?â Sy sharply asks.Â
In front of you, Michael rolls his eyes. âThose werenât even my words.â
âAfter you called her a bitch earlier? Got it.â Syâs voice hardens. âGuess you really do think that everyone around you is stupider than you.âÂ
Sy takes another step forward, just enough to be considered invasive. âNow fuck off and leave her the fuck alone. Not just tonight. For good.â
Sy doesnât need to spell out the âor elseâ part. The delivery of his words alone speak to how serious heâs being.Â
GodâŠNext to Sy, Michaelâs size, his looksâhell, even his voiceâŠHeâs nothing close to intimidating. Yet you remember when, to you, he was. You remember feeling insignificant next to him.Â
âFine. You know what, manâyou win,â Michael says, raising both of his hands and moving a slight bit backwards. âHope youâre real fuckinâ happy with her. Hope you have fun listeninâ to her freak-outs and puttinâ up with her mood swings, playinâ therapist twenty-four sevenâhope itâs real nice for you.â
Audibly, Sy inhales, and heâs as tense as youâve ever seen him. Not even that time when Lianaâs ex-husband made a surprise unwanted visit to MawMawâs. Not even when you were dealing with all that bullshit with Cole.
âWell, I hope a lotta things, too,â Sy very slowly and very carefully replies. He takes another step forward to invade Michaelâs space again.Â
In order to try to dry up your suddenly burning eyes, you swallow and focus very intently on the dinged-up hardwood floor under your boots. How is it that those kinds of words still hurt so badly?
âLike what?â Michael challenges.Â
âThat youâd get shot and fuckinâ die, for one,â Sy darkly answers, âbut for your sake, that you know how to face someone who can see right through all your fuckinâ bullshit.â His voice changes entirely when he turns his head around to look at you. âGo anâ wait out in the car, baby.â
Looking up, you take a terse breath. âMaybe we should just go, Sy.â
His eyes are dead-serious. âWait in the car,â he repeats.Â
Your eyes briefly flicker to Michael and then back to Sy. You know Sy wonât do anything stupid⊠You also know thereâs no way heâd get injured himself⊠Still, your worry is evident.
Sy steps closer to you, then directly next to you so you can take in his familiar and comforting scent. âJust for a minute,â he says into the shell of your ear. âSwear I wonât make a scene.â
You feel the tickle of his beard on your ear even as he backs away. He reaches into his coat pocket and places the key to the car into the palm of your hand.
You stare at one another for a few moments, then you nod, turn around, and begin walking away.
At the restaurantâs entrance, Kiesha and Jasmine are standing waiting for you. Gratefully, you make your way to them, and together you step out into the cold air. They take seats on concrete parking blocks and light up cigarettes while you start Syâs car and turn the heat up full-blast. Shutting the door to let it warm up, you lean against the vehicle and begin biting your fingernails. Â
Your friends are silent, but they keep glancing up at you. Theyâre being great support to you right now by not leaving you alone, even if itâs with the added bonus of getting their nicotine fix, but you know theyâre curious. Itâs not often that this sort of drama happens. And itâs not often that drama follows you.
You just hope everythingâs okay. You hope Sy just wanted some man-to-man words with Michael when youâd be out of earshot. You can only imagine how much turmoil heâs got inside him all twisting around at onceâanger, disgust, loathing. God, you just hope Michael doesnât provoke Sy into actually throwing punches, though, because thatâs something Michael totally would do. You know from experience that thereâs only so much a person can take before retaliating.
âIâm texting Des to give me a play-by-play,â Kiesha says while looking down at her cell phone. âSo far theyâre just havinâ a stare-down.â
âOh, lord,â you mutter. When your fingernails canât be bitten anymore, you gnaw at the skin on the sides of your fingers.
âOkay, she says now their noses are almost touchinâ,â Kiesha says next before placing her cigarette between her lips and pecking at her phone with her thumbs.
Fuuuck. Sy doesnât know anyone here. No one would be able to stand up for his integrity if the law got called over some stupid bar fight. And knowing Michael, heâd be able to skew things in his favor by being a local. And by being a kiss-ass.Â
âOkay, Des moved closer to the bathroom line to try to listen. All she heard was your boyfriend saying âone fuckinâ timeâ to Michael.â
You focus on your breathing and the front door of the restaurant. It's fucking freezing, but you don't want to go inside the car yet. You just want everything to be alright. Itâs hard to calmly breathe with your teeth chattering, though, and thatâs when you realize youâve gotten spoiled to shit with Georgia weather. Even while sharing the same mountain-chain, the air in Georgia just doesnât seem to get to this level of frigidness.
Stomping your boots on the ground to try to warm up your legs, you look over at your friends. Theyâre almost done smoking.Â
âNothinâ else yet,â Kiesha updates. âDes says your boyfriendâs talkinâ so low she canât hear anything, and she canât read his lips, either.â
That means Syâs lips are tightly pressed together. That means his jaw is tense.Â
âHeâs still real close to MichaelâŠgot his finger in his faceâŠâ Kiesha puts out her cigarette and then laughs while looking at the next text that comes through. She stands up. âOkay, so your boyfriend may or may not have threatened to have Michael blown up.â
âBlown up?â Jasmine laughs beside her while accepting help from Kiesha to stand up.Â
You start running your hands up and down your arms. âBetter thanâŠalternative methods of dying, I guess,â you mutter, then you get close to Kiesha and Jasmine and lift up your arms to give them last hugs. âGo on inside, yâall, itâs freezinâ out here.â
âYou go inside,â Kiesha gestures to the car youâre learning on with a plume of smoke coming out its exhaust.Â
âYeah, yeah,â you reply. âI just wanna see him when he comes out.â
âWeâll text you if anything crazy happens,â Kiesha promises before going back inside.
You stand there alone, continuing to stomp on the ground for warmth, worrying about everything, feeling guilty about everything. Sy would never be in this position if you just hadnât gotten involved with Michael in the first place. Or if youâd just left him when his true colors started coming out.Â
It wasnât that easy then, though, and you try to internally talk to yourself like Sy would. Some people are just shitty. It wasnât your fault. I want to take care of you. The phrases become a little mantra in your head. You arenât an imposition. You arenât a burden. I mean what I say and I say what I mean.
When the door to the restaurant opens, your head instantly darts upwards. Sy steps outside a second later, and though he does look murderous, he doesnât look outwardly different. There isnât, like, any blood on his hands or face. His nose is straight and normal. You let out a shaky breath and realize your hands are fucking shaking.
When Sy recognizes you waiting for him, his eyes lose their tightness, and he approaches you with an urgency, face scrunching together in open worry.
âHey, itâs okay, baby,â he instantly soothes you, and thatâs when you realize youâre full-on shivering. âItâs okay. Youâre safe.â
You nod. Your lips currently won't open for you to speak.Â
âEverything's okay,â he lowers his voice and tells you, staying close but not touching. âYou're with me. You're safe. Youâre always safe with me.â
Again, you nod. âIâm not having an anxiety attack,â you promise. âIâm just c-cold.â
Sy takes a hold of one of your icy hands and immediately walks you to the passenger door. Sitting down inside the car is like entering a sauna; itâs almost on the verge of actually being too hot. You take off your jacket before buckling your seatbelt, and then you reach out and hold your hands in front of a heat vent.Â
âWhy didnât you wait in here?â Sy asks from the driverâs seat with no judgment, just concern.
âIâI just wanted to see your face as fast as possible, I guess,â you answer. âTo k-know youâre okay.â
Sy puts his seatbelt on. âIâm okay,â he says.
Continuing to thaw out in front of the heater, you chance asking, âSo, uh. What happened?â
âWe had some words. Then I left.â
You swallow. âThatâs all?â
âToldju I wasnât gonna make a scene,â he reminds you as he begins reversing the car, and you let out a giant breath.Â
âYou did,â you say. âButâŠyouâre angry.â
âI am.â Sy smoothly moves the gear stick to âDâ. âAnd I can control my emotions because Iâm a man.â
With a small smile, you begin to relax. âSo, like, howâd it go? Iâm dyinâ to know what you actually said, but I know you wonât tell me.â
âNot word-for-word, no,â Sy agrees, âbut a good summary would beâŠIf he ever touches you, talks to you, or tries to contact you in any way either directly or through someone else, that itâs in his best interest to learn how to fight âcause Iâll rip him a new fucking asshole.â
âOooh,â you let out. Youâre not one for violence, but that sounded so confidently threatening that youâre internally giddy with how Michael mustâve looked after hearing that. Maybe thatâs when Sy put his finger in his face and said âone fuckinâ timeâ--maybe Sy was saying that to drive home his point about not contating you ever. You hope Michael peed his pants.
Sy turns onto the main road. âAnd I mightâve mentioned some guys I know who handle high-grade military explosives across the country, and that he should never be too careful about the people he meets while âselling insuranceâ.â
You look over at Sy with admiration and deference. You reckon heâd put a hit out on Michael if you only said the word.Â
âThanks, babe.â
His eyes dart over to you when you say that, then he reaches across the center console for your hand and lifts it up to his mouth to kiss.Â
God, he never stops being so fucking sweet. Heâs such a man, and heâs always so fucking sweet to you. And to think, without Michael in your past, you wouldnât be bringing so much luggage into his life. It could've been easy like this from the beginning.
âI justâI hate him so much,â you mumble.
âI know,â he mumbles back.
Quickly, to keep tears at bay, you nod. Two minutes later, Sy pulls up to a gas station so you can go inside and use the bathroom.
In bed later that night after faces are washed and teeth are brushed, you and Sy lay facing one anotherâboth of you with one arm tucked underneath the pillow youâre each laying on and the other arm on the sheets between each other. You have a brief run-down of the nightâs events and how both of you thought everything went, but you know youâll talk more about that kind of stuff tomorrow. The main thing in the forefront of your minds right now is theâŠother situation.Â
âThanks for everything,â you whisper into the air between your faces.Â
Syâs tracing the skin around your hairline, just little soft brushes of his finger. âDonât gotta thank me.â
âI want to,â you reply. âYou didnât have to do all that just for me.â
A little puff of air leaves Syâs nostrils, and he pulls his hand back. âThere is no just, Y/N. Youâre everything. And I'd do anything for you, you know that."
You canât look at him anymore, but you scoot a little bit closer to him and find his hand under the blanket. Holding it, you remain quiet. Hearing things like that are still so hard for you, but your heart feels full to bursting.
Sy checks in after your silence goes on. âYou good?â
You nod, and soon, youâre able to look back at his face. âIâm just so fucking in love with you,â you whisper, chuckling afterwards.Â
His eyes search your face. It almost looks like admiring.
âItâs crazy, ainât it?â he asks, and the expression on his face alone shows you that heâs reciprocating everything youâre saying. His eyes only look this specific way when theyâre looking at you. Eyes that don't just look at you, but see you.
âWeâre, likeâŠWeâre each otherâs person,â you comment with a little smile. Youâre my person.â
âYouâre my girl,â he says.
You blink when he just keeps staring at you. âWhat, youâre gonna make me say somethin' different?â you ask, and he cockily nods. âYou canât just be my person?â
Sy reaches out and places his hand on your hip. âI donât wanna just be your person.â
It gets quiet again, and the two of you just watch each otherâs faces for a bit, touching under the sheets.
Eventually, Sy breaks the silence. âYouâre my girl,â he whispers.
You briefly look away, and your face gets hot while you make yourself look right back at him. âAnd youâre my man,â you reply, cheesy enough that you almost want to groan afterwards, but Sy grins in the adoringly handsome way that shows all his teeth, so itâs worth it.
âFuckinâ right I am. And you just let me worry about that stuff that happened earlier from now on,â he says, pulling you in close. ââCause you donât got to anymore.â
Synopsis: Allie Hilton is on the run. For the first time in her privileged life, she can only rely on her own wits to escape a life she was destined for, but also one that she never wanted. What happens when Allie flees as far as she can before running into a small town that just happened to be governed by a large male motorcycle fleet? Well Allie, meet the War Horse Rebellion. Put on your riding boots, it's going to be a rough ride.
Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Allison âAllieâ HiltonÂ
Warnings: Spencer, mentions of k!lling, threats, physical fight, mention of suicid3, someone being drugg3d, curse words, resuscitation, yelling, arguing, drama, hospital, injuries, August, Walter
MINORS DNI! Must be 18+
I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.Â
This story is not betaâd. All mistakes are my own.
A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!
Chapter 15
Walter POV:
I successfully managed to revive the son of a bitch lying in front of me on the stretcher even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I could feel the pure rage of Augustâs eyes on me the entire time I was performing CPR. I understood Syversonâs need to drain the life from his eyes, but August just wants cause to kill anyone or anything. That is a bit concerning to me as he is a CIA member with clearance to do certain questionable things.
I had to be the bad guy in this situation and think logically if I wanted August and Austin to avoid lengthy jail time. Spencerâs incredibly rich and powerful family will stop at nothing for justice, and this isnât going to be one of those things that just goes away. Self-defense trials are tricky and because it was two much larger men against one, I canât guarantee it would go their way. I couldnât let that happen to either of my unofficial brothers. Hopefully theyâll forgive me when clearer heads prevail.Â
I watch as the nurses and doctors work on treating Spencerâs injuries through the window of the triage room. Thatâs one thing that being a detective helps with. Hospital staff see the badge on my neck that I had exposed earlier with the Outlaws as a silent reminder to behave, and never question my presence or ask me to leave. I look around and search for Allie or Sy, but donât see them in this part of the hospital.
I listen as well as I can to the medical chatter on the other side of the glass as they search for abdominal bleeding, confirming that a CT scan will be the best route to go. They are certain that he, at minimum, has a concussion as well as they suspect several broken ribs and a broken jaw that they think plan to confirm with imaging. There's also mention of an obvious orbital fracture to his eye. From this distance, I think I see Spencerâs one good eye blink a few times but itâs hard to be sure with the medical collar around his neck and nurses bustling around.
Once they whisk him off to the CT scan, I go in search of Allie and Syverson. Initially, I had no idea anything was wrong with her, as I was so focused on reviving Spencer to avoid murder charges. It wasnât until August started screaming about poison that I really doubled my effort to bring the suspect back to life. I have every intention of making sure that when he heals, he goes straight to prison.
After asking a nurse and showing my badge, I was directed to the room where they had Allie. I went to walk in but saw August standing there with his hand on Austinâs shoulder and slowly backed away. I know Iâm the bad guy right now and August blowing a gasket at me would only get us both kicked out especially since we are not related to Allie. Finding a random chair in the hallway, I sit and bury my face in my hands. What a nightmare. Things were going so well and now everything is broken. Hearing heavy footsteps, I glance up and see August walk out of the room. He glances at me and sneers with disdain making me feel even worse.
âHow is she?â I ask.
âLike you even give a shit.â He spits and I roll my eyes. Always so dramatic.
âI do. I care about her just like I care for you and Austin.â I remind him.
âIs that why you were so concerned about keeping that asshole alive? We really couldâve used your help for Allie instead.âÂ
âI told you, Iâm looking at the bigger picture and trying to avoid murder charges for both of you. Self-defense charges arenât going to work when you both are bigger than him and clearly had the advantage.â
âHello, see this badge? It says CIA. I get out of this shit all the time.â He boasts.
âOh my god! Enough with the CIA bullshit! That wonât get you out of everything, and youâd be an idiot to continue thinking itâs your get out of jail free card. This isnât some dark web arms dealer, August! This is someone with tons of money and publicity with no criminal record. He will have swarms of people searching for him. This could get you kicked out of the CIA for abuse of power. Syverson could get in serious trouble with the military. How is he going to love her from prison the rest of his life, huh? Câmon August, I know that when you cool down youâll understand why I made the decision that I did.â I can't help but raise my voice at him.
âYouâre supposed to be our brother. You were working against us tonight.â Heâs no longer shaking with rage at me, but still mad.
âNo, I wasnât! The more you think about it, the more you will see my perspective⊠Are you really willing to risk spending the rest of your life in jail for revenge over a woman that isnât even yours?â
âYes!â August spits instantly. Realization dawns on me and I wear it clearly across my features.
âOh no. August, tell me you havenât.â I beg for him to tell me he hasnât crossed the line.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â August sneers, defensive as usual.
âYouâre falling for her.â I whisper and he avoids eye contact.
âNo, I am not. I donât do the love or relationship thing. You know that.â He tries to convince me but I see through it.Â
âI get it.â I mutter and he finally locks eyes with me again. I continue.
âSheâs pretty damn easy to fall for. Iâve been doing my best to keep her at a distance all week because she is with Austin. If she wasnât, I know for a fact Iâd be willing to do whatever was needed to give her the world.â I confess shamefully.
August inhales deeply and lets out a sigh.Â
âFuck. At first, I just flirted with her to piss Austin off, but at some point, something started to feel different about her.â He runs his hand through his normally polished hair.Â
âWhat the fuck is happening to me? Iâm going soft or something.â He mutters with fists balled tightly and I canât help but smirk.
âI think all of the doctors working on oleâ Spencer disagree. You beat him to a pulp. They were discussing if he would ever regain sight out of his left eye again and were taking him to CT to see how bad the internal damage was since the external damage was so severe.â
He huffs a small chuckle and I have to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing at the brutal injuries to another human. Maybe I am a bad person, but if so, Spencer is worse.
âIf you ever breathe a word of any of this, Iâll kill you.â He threatens and I smile.
 âDeal. This will all get better once we return to our normal lives. She is Austinâs and will eventually be like a sister to us. Just keep focusing on that.Â
August grunts at being told he canât have something he wants but doesnât disagree.Â
âDid they figure out what he spiked her drink with?â I ask and he shakes his head, balling his fists again.
âTheyâre testing her blood, and the wine bottle directly. Said they would let me know immediately what answers they could find.â He grimaces.
âSy said anything yet?â He shakes his head no as we stand apart from each other in the clinical white hallway.
âIâm still pissed at you, so Iâm sure he is too.â August says without any real malice in his voice and I nod in understanding.
âWill you let me know what you find out?â I ask.
âMaybe.â He grunts before stalking down the hall and through a set of double doors that are for employees only. I roll my eyes at his drama and lack of boundaries but thatâs how heâs always been. Heâs always called me a boy scout for following rules and respecting authority. Itâs natural that we butt heads about things throughout our lives, but this is the biggest fight weâve had since we were kids. Deciding to let Sy have some alone time with Allie, I take my seat back in the hallway and wait for any update on Allie or on Spencer.
Syverson POV:
Please wake up, Sugar. Please wake up. Iâll do anything, darlinâ. Just show me those beautiful eyes. Please, baby girl.
I keep repeating this plea silently in my head as I sit in the worldâs most uncomfortable plastic chair, holding Allieâs hand. My calloused palms somehow feel softer from just the touch of her smooth skin. Shortly after being examined in the triage area, the hospital staff moved Allie to a private hospital room. Allieâs laid in a hospital bed thatâs somewhat inclined, and they let me stay here with her while they were waiting on labs to return. She has an oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth and an IV with fluids dripping slowly into the tube that runs under her skin. Her color had already gone back to her usual peachy/pink hue which calmed me immensely, but I was still disturbed that she hadnât woken up.
The smell of chemical disinfectant almost burns my nose from the excessive use of it here in this small room, but I might be more sensitive to it since my nose is running. Iâm sure that Iâm a complete mess as my clothes are rumpled and my face swollen from tears leaking out against my will. I havenât cried since a month or two after my motherâs funeral, but tonight I didnât even recognize myself. My head is pounding now that the adrenaline has exited my body and I lean over to kiss her hand once more. Pressing her palm against my beard, just like she likes to do, I rest my chin on the mattress and close my eyes to block out the harsh fluorescent bulbs. I havenât seen Walter since the apartment, but August did come into the room with a nurse. I donât remember what exactly they were doing but I trust that August has it under control. For once, Iâm not trying to boss people around or make decisions. I just want to be with Allie and promise to never let her get hurt again. The migraine pulsing behind my eyes convinces me to close them, and rest my face in such an uncomfortable position over Allieâs hospital bed while focusing on the warmth of her hand against my cheek.Â
Gentle nails scratching against my beard lulls me to a state of semi-consciousness that has me recognizing the constant beep, beep, beep, of Allieâs heart on the monitor. Crunched over the edge of the bed, my jeans are digging almost painfully into my belly. I consider sitting up to adjust them when I feel the sensation again. Soft nails wiggling slowly against the coarse hairs along my jaw. I stiffen as my eyes blink against the harsh light before quickly looking at Allieâs face. Crystal blue eyes stare back at my own as she smiles groggily beneath the oxygen mask. Jolting upright, I squeeze her hand against my face and feel my breath quicken.
âSugar.â I whisper hoarsely with sleep in my voice and watch as she uses her other hand to clumsily pull the oxygen mask away from her face.
âSy.â She smiles and I lean over and press a gentle kiss to her lips. Remembering how gaunt and pale they looked earlier, I pay close attention to her lips now and feel relief at their pink tint.
âYou okay? Anything hurt?â I ask.
âMâokay. My head hurts a little⊠and my ribs? Like if I try to take a big breath it hurts a lot.âÂ
Grimacing, I respond. âThatâs probably my fault, Darlinâ. I uh, did CPR on you when you lost consciousness and the compressions can be hard on the sternum and ribs. I'm sorry. Letâs put this mask back on.â I reach for the oxygen mask and she shakes her head at me.Â
âPlease, sugar. I want to make sure youâre getting plenty of oxygen.â I nearly beg.
âI will in a minute. I want you to kiss me again.â Smiling more gently than ever before, I place a feather light kiss to her lips. Her other hand, taped and tubed with different cords, reaches up to the back of my head and pulls me in for another harder kiss when I try to retreat.
âSugar.â I playfully whisper as a warning when she finally releases me.Â
âThank you.â She whispers when I pull the oxygen mask back over her face, watching it fog with each exhale Allie releases.
âI gotta apologize to ya. I shouldnât have planned that meeting so far away from you. I just knew I didnât want you near the Outlaws but I shoulda been there with ya.â I stare at my fingers entwined with hers as I apologize and glance to her eyes.Â
âYou were there, Austin. Don't do this to yourself.â Her voice muffled from the mask.
âI shouldâve looked before opening the door but I thought it was Eliza with her hands full and was hurrying to help her.â So thatâs how he got in. Where the fuck was August?â
 âDo they know whatâs wrong with me?â She interrupts my thought and I shake my head no.Â
âLetâs call a nurse to check on ya and see if they found any answers.â Refusing to let go of her hand or leave her side, I press the nurse call button on the bed remote. Glancing to the blinds, I see that the sun is up. I check my watch and see that itâs 11:09 am.Â
I look in the doorway and see Walter pacing just outside of her hospital room, when a brunette nurse arrives to check on Allie. Moments later, August and a doctor join the room as well. Walter leans in the doorway silently but I ignore him. August is all business as he instructs the doctor to examine Allie as we watch.Â
âMs. Hilton, Iâm Dr. Norman. Iâm going to run a few quick vitals and response tests. Please squeeze my fingers. Alright, now please push your feet against my hands. Resist the pressure Iâm placing, please. Okay, now follow my finger with your eyes. Excellent. Let me check your pupil reactivity. Perfect. How are you feeling?â
âUm, a little sore and groggy. Do you know what happened?â
âYes maâam. We compared labs from your blood and the wine bottle that Mr. Walker brought in and determined that you were drugged with a high dose of Vicodin. However, this was a bit different than typical prescription drugs because we believe it was laced with fentanyl. There is a growing trend of this counterfeit drug being sold on the streets because fentanyl is a highly addictive substance and usually requires very little to feel the addictive effects. Drug dealers typically want to establish an addiction in their buyers to increase consistent sales and cash flow." He pauses momentarily to allow her to process before beginning again.Â
"The opioid in Vicodin typically makes people have a feeling of euphoria before becoming extremely drowsy. However, there was a very large amount of vicodin, along with smaller amounts of fentanyl found in your system as well as trace amounts of alcohol, likely from the wine it was combined with. Your baseline lack of drug use, caused you to feel the effects quicker than someone who has built up a tolerance. Itâs most likely the reason you lost consciousness so quickly after ingestion and then began to overdose. One of the side effects of this drug is respiratory distress and suppression of the urge to cough or clear your airway. You are very lucky that your partner noticed the color change in your skin and began CPR. Iâm not sure you would have been able to oxygenate your organs sufficiently without it until you made it to the hospital.â
I am seething as I listen to what Spencer did to my beautiful girl. I watch as a single tear drop falls from the corner of her eye, down her cheek near her ear before dropping on the scratchy pillow case. Clutching her hand to mine like a lifeline, I gently dry the tear trail with my thumb.
âWhen you were in the ambulance, the paramedic administered Narcan, which is typically a reversal agent for drug overdoses. They were able to get you on your side when it caused you to vomit, and I think that helped you avoid more of the drugs entering your system. Your blood oxygen and respiratory rate improved on the ride to the hospital, but dipped a bit when you were here which is normal as the hydrocodone in Vicodin is long lasting. We plan to keep you on low flow oxygen at least through the rest of the day and night tonight to ensure your blood oxygenates well, and then we can work on removing it tomorrow morning. If all goes well, thereâs a chance we could have you discharged by tomorrow evening. Lastly, the police are here, in the hallway, and would like a statement from you when youâre able. Would you be willing to speak with them now?"
Iâm about to protest, in order to give her time to process all of this new information, but she quickly agrees and the doctor steps out of the room to retrieve them.Â
Walter now enters the room but stands near the back, along with two local detectives who waste no time as they begin to question Allie.Â
âMs. Hilton, we are working to figure out exactly what took place tonight and we would appreciate any details you could offer us. Could you tell us what happened, starting before Mr. Elliott arrived?â
âI donât remember everything but Iâll tell you what I do remember. August, my boyfriendâs brother, was hanging out with me because Austin had to⊠work late. They didnât want me to be alone since I had just filed the restraining order at the beginning of the week against Spencer. We cooked dinner and then as we were cleaning up, I threw dishwater soap bubbles on Augustâs hair. He went to the bathroom and I thought my friend Eliza was faintly knocking at the door. She had planned to come over with movies, snacks, and wine. I hurried to get the door and forgot to look out the peephole. I opened it, and was shocked to see himâŠmy ex, who I have a restraining order against. I just, froze. He pushed his way past me and poured a glass of my favorite expensive wine that I used to drink in Charlotte. I shouldnât have taken it and I didnât initially. I told him to get out, but he ignored me. I wasnât thinking straight and he distracted me by informing me that my mom tried to kill herself after I last saw her, and my dad was missing. He said my dad apparently left town and nobody can find him. Spencer said my mother was in a mental health facility in Charlotte and was trying to encourage me to visit her. I guess I took a few sips of the wine as I was processing this news, and then August came out of the bathroom and started fighting him because he knew I was in danger. I saw August try and put him in a chokehold, and but he escaped and swung at August. I stopped watching because I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up, so I crawled to the kitchen floor to get away from the fight, and then I got incredibly sleepy. I remember not being able to focus my eyes. They felt so heavy and then my head felt even heavier. I remember resting my head on my legs.â
Turning toward me, she looks so sad as she continues to speak. âI remember you coming in, and there was loud yelling. You touched my face and thatâs the last thing I remember. You above me looking at me strangely. Iâm so sorry. I should have checked the peephole. I wasnât thinking. I was such an idiot and put myself and everyone else at risk.â She apologizes as tears fall freely and I immediately shake my head.Â
âNo, Sugar. You donât have a thing to apologize for. You couldnât have known, baby girl. None of this is on you.â
âHas Spencer ever hurt you before?â The detective questions and I flinch at the intrusion. Turning her tear filled eyes back to him, Allie answers.
âYes, a couple of times. I left Charlotte because he almost killed me when I refused his marriage proposal. I didnât call police or go to the hospital though. Heâs got powerful connections all over the United States, so I felt that it was best to justâŠdisappear. Thatâs when I moved to Gruene.â She explains. After answering several more detailed questions, and explaining everything that happened with the missing personâs case, the detectives thanked her for her statement.
âCan I press charges?â She asks before they leave and suddenly Walter speaks. I had forgotten he was back there as he was so stoic and silent.
âAlready done. The law doesnât require you to press charges in this case because he violated a court issued restraining order, as well as entered your dwelling without consent, and assaulted you with the drugs. We canât charge for attempted murder as we cannot prove what his actual motive was, but assault can be proved without question thanks to the evidence from the hospital. So, Spencer will be charged by the state for violating the restraining order, criminal trespassing, and assault with drugs. Those will result in a prison sentence when heâs convicted and Iâll personally be requesting no bond due to his unlimited resources and ability to run.â Walter explains and I see her smile behind her mask and visibly relax with a small nod.Â
âDetectives, Iâve already called a contact at New Braunfels and they have all of the files from Allieâs false missing personâs case ready for your review. Iâll see you both out.â He mutters before Allie speaks.
âWalter? Youâre coming back right?â She asks. Who could say no to her?
âDo you want me too?â He responds and she quickly nods. He responds with a single head nod before leading the detectives out of the room. I havenât said a word to Walter since the parking lot of Brandonâs pub, and canât really decide how I feel towards him at the moment.
August has been standing sullenly by the window before Allie summons him to her bedside.
âAuggie?â She whispers playfully, looking so tiny in this hospital bed. Her surprising teasing demeanor feels completely out of place with all of the heavy emotions in the room.
âDonât you dare.â August darkens as he crosses his arms and stares down at her while her smile widens beneath the oxygen mask.Â
âOh câmon!â She chides as she waves him over to her with the hand that Iâm not holding and he smirks just slightly.
âOnly because youâre in the hospital, Iâll let that slide just this once. But donât get any ideas. Iâve hit a woman before.â He replies and I canât help the small lift to the side of my mouth at her giggle.
âI donât need to know about all of the fifty shades of gray whipping you get up to in the bedroom.â She retorts and I grimace at the thought. Ew.
Walking to the other side of the bed, he stands beside her and glances at all the machines surrounding her at the head of the bed. The same machines I stared at last night for at least four hours straight while methodically rubbing her hand.
âDonât you want to hear about the spanking at least?â He whispers and my fist balls up involuntarily. Iâm too stressed to deal with him riling me up right now.
Allie giggles and wiggles her hand against my own that is now partially clenched and I relax my hand.Â
âI think Iâve seen and heard enough craziness for one night, August.â She says with a wink before getting a serious expression and reaching for his hand. I donât like it but force myself to sit still.Â
âI just wanted to say, thank you so much. I am so grateful that you were willing to fight him and protect me. Iâm so sorry that I opened the door. Iâll never forgive myself for being that careless and putting you in that position in the first place.â
âDonât apologize, Allie. To be honest, I wish I would have killed him.âÂ
âMe too.â I chime in and Allie sighs.Â
âI donât.â She says sternly. August and I both look at each other like, âSheâs crazyâ before looking at her and I can see the resolve in her face. She means it.Â
âIf either of you had killed him, his father would stop at nothing to make sure you paid for it. Heâs a dirty businessman who has blackmailed and threatened enough formidable people to cause either of you harm.â
August rolls his eyes as I shake my head. Neither of us are even slightly worried about Paul Elliott, but she continues.
âPaul Elliott would have made it his lifeâs mission to publicly murder either of you. Unfortunately, he has enough social clout and influence that all of the brainless morons with money would have jumped right in to help him vilify you. I would never ever want that. Even more so, if either of you went to jail for me, I wouldnât be able to handle it. So, Iâm glad you didnât. Iâm glad you stopped.â
âWe wanted to kill him. More than youâll ever know. One of us would have if Walter hadnât of stopped us. If he hadnât have stopped me. I was so close.â I admit as I picture Spencerâs neck under my clenched palm thatâs still holding her delicate hand.
âIâm glad Walter stopped you. He was thinking logically.â Allie twists her hand in mind and looks at me meaningfully.
âI think you each got a few good punches to him which is enough. I wish I had been brave enough to punch him. Just once at least. Instead, I stood there like an absolute fool as he walked into my apartment, my home, like it was his God given right to do so.â She sighs.
âYou were in shock, darlinâ. Donât let that get to ya.â I tell her.Â
âIf I could start tonight all over again, I would have kicked him right in the nuts as soon as that door opened, and then punched him in the face while he was doubled over in agony before slamming the door in his face. He would have never seen it coming from me.â She pictures it in her head and I canât help but find it so endearing. My god, she looks like an angry but determined little kitten as she imagines standing up for herself and I wish she could have.
âEasy there, Rocky. Iâll let you do that to August if he keeps holding onto my womanâs hand.â I quip and she laughs lightly as August makes a show of lifting her hand a placing a kiss on the back of it. I roll my eyes at him as he winks at my girlfriend.Â
Walter returns and August huffs quietly at his arrival. Allie waves him over, somewhat confused my Augustâs irritation, but nonetheless, he approaches her bedside. I take a deep breath and listen to what my girl is about to say.
âHi. You okay?â Of course, sheâs asking him if heâs okay while sheâs in a hospital bed.
The look of confusion washes over his features as he considers her question. âWhy are you asking me that when youâre the one who got drugged against her will and overdosed?â
She waves her hand in the air as if it was a common occurrence or not a big deal and he shakes his head at her dismissal.
âI wanted to thank you.â She says seriously while reaching for his hand. Iâm getting tired of her holding hands with men other than me but I donât say it. At least I still have her left one as I gently trace her ring finger that I plan on adding a ring to sooner rather than later.
âWhat?â Walter responds with confusion.
âI know it wasnât easy with these two brutes,â she gestures to me and August who huffs louder from across the room, âto think clearly and logically in that situation. They told me that you didnât let them kill him and Iâm so grateful. As much as I want justice against him, I donât want any of you to get locked up as a result. As vile as he is, Spencer is still someoneâs child and I donât relish anyone losing their life if it can be avoided. I also would never forgive myself if any one of you got in trouble for defending me. So, thank you from the bottom of my heart Walt.â Ever the awkward one with receiving compliments, he nods silently as he squeezes her hand gently.Â
âThe hardest thing to do and the right thing to do are often one in the same. I will not allow anyone to make you feel bad for making the right decision. I would have done the same thing.â
She adds on and August and I pout like two children sitting in the principalâs office after being scolded.
âTo be honest, I think the world would be better without that piece of shit wasting our shared oxygen, but Iâve charged enough people with homicide and sent them to prison in my career to refuse to let it happen to my brothers.â Walter says quietly.Â
Understanding his perspective, I stand for the first time since she was wheeled into this room. My back and knees ache and pop as I right myself, before I reach out and offer my hand to Walter. We exchange a meaningful nod, as I whisper a quiet âthank youâ for saving me from myself. I donât relish taking anyoneâs life. Iâve had to do it before in the army, and would not have hesitated to strangle Spencer to death, but I donât want to be that person again.Â
âAugust will come around.â Allie whispers to Walter who gives her a flat smile.
ALLIEâS POV:
I attempted to send everyone home but of course, Sy never left my side. I couldnât complain really, I felt so much better when he was with me but I know the plastic chair must be uncomfortable for him even though he hasnât complained once. My ribs and sternum absolutely throb but I wonât allow Austin to punish himself for doing whatever was necessary to save my life, so I try not to wince or mention it.
I finally convinced Sy to take off his belt, and at least recline the contraption this hospital considered to be a companion chair and within moments I heard his soft snoring. Poor thing must be absolutely exhausted. I slept on and off but the automatic blood pressure cuff woke me up more often than I would have liked. I know I was sleeping off the drugs in the beginning because when I did wake, I would be so disoriented and groggy.
At one point, I woke and was so uncomfortable with all of the monitor cords and tube across my face, so I attempted to shift my stiff body around in the hospital bed but was startled to see August brooding over the foot of my bed in the dim light. I jumped before clutching my painful chest in an attempt to keep my bones and muscles from moving anymore.
âHoly shit!â I whispered in an attempt to not wake up Sy who hadnât moved from his awkward position in the chair.
âSorry. I didnât mean to scare you.â
âAugust, youâre a giant hulking man standing at my hospital bed in the dark. It was a given.â I muttered and he looked at me sheepishly.
âWhy arenât you at Austinâs sleeping?âÂ
âDonât need much sleep.â He muttered and I rolled my eyes.Â
âI started looking up the things about your family. Everything he told you was a lie. Your father was in court yesterday conducting law proceedings on a merger of two small companies. Your mother was seen a few days ago at a Charlotte country club playing tennis and then having cocktails. I just wanted you to know that what he said wasnât true.â
What kind of monster lies about someoneâs mother attempting suicide? My god. The same type that drugs you to potentially kill you I guess. I bite my lip and shake my head. Iâm such an idiot for even listening to Spencerâs bullshit after knowing what he was capable of.Â
âDo you think he was really planning to kill me?â I ask, unsure of whether I wanted to know the answer.
âIâm not sure what his motive was. He was almost successful in killing you, but Iâm not sure he was bright enough to know that you would overdose. I canât help but wonder if he was attempting to kidnap you instead.â August whispers his reply.
âWhat makes you say that?â I ask.
âYou'd be unconscious and easy to lift without a fight. Call it a gut feeling.â Is all he responds with.
I ball my meager fist up in irritation with myself for not only opening the door, but for my gullibility in actually considering what he said to be true. Maybe I really am as dumb as he always said. He would know that I would feel guilty for my parentâs downfall, regardless of their coldness towards me.Â
âI wish I could go back in time to when that door opened and slap the shit out of him.â I mutter angrily. August just looks at me with a raised eyebrow.
âIâll be right back. Donât go back to sleep yet.â He demanded. Looking across the room at the old analog clock mounted on the wall, I noticed it was a little after 2 am. What is he doing?
I'm even more suspicious when he returns with a wheelchair and a mischievous mustached smile.
Chapter 17
A/N: I'm BACK! Thank you all for understanding the little break I took with my family! I hope this chapter was worth the wait and I love you all!
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