Summary: You’re struggling to care for your goddaughter when the Captain pays you a visit.
Word Count: 1.9 K
Warning: Soft!Syverson, pure Sy with a baby fluff coming your way! SFW!!!! <3
I didn’t get to do my usual SyverSUNday, so this is a lil Sy for your Thursday my loves.
Please don’t repost my writing anywhere, but do feel free to like, comment and re-blog, I am a fragile bean who needs love and support. <3 If you would like to be added to my tag list send me a message.
Tag List: @littlebirdofrivia @smile-sugar @ughdontbeboring @peachatori @daddys-littlewhitegirl @wheretheriversrunintothesea @omgkatinka
Just because you’re a woman doesn’t mean that you know the first thing about taking care of a baby, but Michelle was your best friend and little Beth is your goddaughter. If they need you, you’re there.
When Michelle called you crying hysterically that her mother was in a car accident and wanted to know if you could come spend the weekend at her house, looking after Beth while she and her husband Michael went out of town to see her mother in the hospital.
You told her you were on your way.
Grabbing an old shopping bag from under the kitchen sink, you packed the essentials and didn’t bother getting out of your PJ’s. It would take about an hour and a half to get to Michelle and Michael’s house and you wanted to be comfortable on the drive over.
—
“Mesh, stay calm, okay. You talked to your sister, right?”
You were leaning against the passenger side window of the car looking in at Michelle and Michael as they got ready to back out of the driveway to prepare for the six-hour car ride to Mobile, Alabama, to see Michelle’s mother.
“Yeah, yeah, I talked to her. As much as I could. You know how Christine is, everything is always about her.”
You remembered Michelle’s older sister and could concur that Christine thought the world revolved around her. You take Michelle’s hand and give it a squeeze.
“Everything is going to be okay. I’ll take care of Munchkin, ya’ll be careful and call me when you stop to get gas and when you get there so I know ya’ll are alright.”
“Uh, hey YN, I called my old army Captain–he’s a good friend and Beth adores him, I let him know what was up and he said he might swing by to check on you two.”
Michael leaned over in the driver’s seat to talk out of the passenger window.
Great, so they’d called in reinforcements? Instead of feeling salty about that, you nodded.
“Thanks, Mike. I’m sure we’ll be okay but I appreciate it.”
—
Any other time, Beth was a joy to be around. The sweet little six-month-old was a happy baby. She loved bouncing on your belly, taking long walks around the house and sucking her binkie, but something about today had the baby girl in a rare state.
Maybe she could since your anxiety? Maybe she missed her mommy and daddy, or maybe she was just having a bad day, but from ten o’clock that morning when she woke up from her morning nap with a wet diaper, she couldn’t be pleased.
You walked her, rocked her, read to her, gave her a bottle. Checked her diaper again to see if she was wet.
All the usual things you did to help soothe her were not working. You even tried a warm bath in the sink with some of that lavender sleepy time bath soak, but she would whimper and grunt and cry all the same. She turned down food, which was not normal.
Instead, Beth’s big eyes kept looking at you, pleading for something as she gnawed on her fist and slobbered all over herself.
“Oh, honey, I wish you could just tell me what’s wrong. Mama and Daddy will be back, I promise. You don’t have to be sad.”
You cooed and coddled her before sighing and falling onto the couch, flipping the tv on. Beth loved Nascar she could watch those cars make left turns for hours on end. Not today. Sighing, you laid her on your belly, stroking her back, patting her bottom, thinking maybe she had gas and that was making her miserable and fussy when the doorbell rang and she let out another piercing wail of discontent.
With a small grunt, you got up from the couch, hugging Beth to your side, getting batted in the face by a baby fist that knocked your glasses accuse you turned the deadbolt and opened the door.
At first, you weren’t sure what you were looking at. It was just big blurry red shape and instantly for a second, your frazzled mind asked if someone summoned the Kool-aid man.
“Well, hey sugar. What’s going on here?”
A deep timber asked and you felt Beth reaching for whom ever was at the door while you tried to straighten your glasses.
Blinking into focus behind the lenses of your glasses, you took him in.
“A-are you the Army captain?”
The big, burly, bearded man took Beth out of your arms and tucked her up to his chest like a football as her tiny fingers grabbed his beard and pulled.
“At’s me darlin’, Dwight Syverson, everyone just calls me Sy.”
Now wasn’t the time to swoon, that accent and a baby in his arms that was now cooing and chewing on his chin and he didn’t seem at all bothered as drool dripped on his red shirt.
Syverson stomped his boots off, stepped inside, and kicked the door close with the heel of his boot. “What’s all this fussin’ I could hear her from the truck.”
For a brief second, you wilt under his cold cobalt stare and gulp a little bit imagining what he must have been like when he was in the Army, bossing around the other officers. Right now, it feels like the bull of a man is accusing you of something.
“I do not know what to do… Beth’s been upset since she woke up. I’ve rocked her, walked her, I sang to her, and I even put on her favorite show. Nothing’s working. I don’t know, maybe she misses Michelle or she can tell something’s wrong…”
As you ramble, you drift off, shrinking as Dwight stares at you. Beth seems fine now that he’s here.
The little traitor.
Syverson assesses Beth for a second, holding her aloft and wiggling her in the air, which makes her giggle as a long thin line of drool breaks from her chin and drops on his shirt again.
Between feeling completely betrayed by your goddaughter, your child-rearing skills under heavy scrutiny, you can’t help looking up at his chest. Yes, you had to look up to meet his chest; you wonder what he’d look like in a wet t-shirt contest.
“Seems fine to me, ain’t’cha bug? Hnn? She just doesn’t know how to sweet talk the ladies.”
With a grunt, Syverson’s heavy boots thumped on the floor as he sat down on the couch, still holding Beth, who was latched onto his chin again.
“Do you think you could get some food down her while you’re here, Sy? I’ve been trying with her all day and she’s even turning down her bottle… I’ve never seen her do that.”
Maybe feeling upset that Mike called in reinforcements wasn’t such a bad thing. Beth was normally such a happy baby you weren’t that worried, but after today you questioned maybe you weren’t around her nearly enough even though you came down almost every weekend to spend time with your best friend and goddaughter and other family, though you’d never met Sy before. You had heard plenty about him; they were some pretty wild stories, but you’d never come face to face with the famous Texan.
“Turnin’ down a bah-bah? At ain’t like you, bitty bitty.” Syverson spoke to the infant.
You immediately grab her bottle and hold it out. You are a mess. Your hair is a rat’s nest from sleep, there’s drool all over your t-shirt. You didn’t even put a bra on before hopping in your car to get here.
You nervously take a seat in the recliner. Sy tries to get Beth to take the bottle, but at least she proves you right, she won’t take it. Keeps, pushing it out with her tongue and whimpering every time it comes near her mouth.
Sy sets the bottle between his legs and looks at Beth. He sniffs her all the usual checks you’ve done countless times before; he sets the little bundle on his leg and sticks his finger in her mouth.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
Sy doesn’t answer. His brows are drawn with concentration as his finger feels around inside Beth’s mouth. She welcomes it because it’s something new for her to gnaw on.
Sy looks up, and he hits you with the full force of a grin that makes your ovaries ache.
Holy Fuck.
“Little Booger’s cuttin’ a tooth.”
It takes a second for what he said to hit you before you move from the recliner to the seat of the couch next to him, nearly falling into his weight. Sy moves his finger and Beth gives out a disgruntled bark, wiping the slobber covered digit on his leg as you stick your finger in Beth’s mouth and check it out. Sure enough, there’s a little bump on the right side that’s holding a little heat.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Look at you sweetie… you’re getting your first little tooth.”
At least this, you know how to deal with. You jump up from the couch, marching into the kitchen. You’re a woman on a mission as you check the cabinets and find the baby Tylenol.
Measuring out a small dropper, you come back and carefully pop it into Beth’s mouth, making sure it gets swallowed instead of drooling it back out.
“There we go, honey, that should help. Hang on, Auntie has one other thing that might help and then… we’re gonna see if we can get that bottle in you. I know you gotta be hungry.”
You hurry back to the kitchen, putting away the medicine before looking around in the freezer. At the very back you find what you’re looking for.
“Look what I got, sweet girl.”
You smile, waving a frozen waffle. Beth’s eyes are following you as you bring it to her mouth and her tiny hands grab it and she gnaws on the cool ridges.
Within ten minutes, Beth is the calmest she’s been all day and Sy is feeding her.
“Will you be okay with her for a minute while I use the powder room?”
Sy glances up, giving you that grin again.
“Sure, sugar. I think we got this handled… go on and take care of yourself.”
You hurry into the bathroom and get a good hard look at yourself. Just as you thought you look horrendous and quickly brush your hair out before using the bathroom and coming back out to find Sy putting Beth down for a nap in her playpen. She’s down for the count.
“I could hang out for a while… tag team this.”
Sy looks at you. He seems a little bashful now that he doesn’t have Beth to distract him. It’s absolutely adorable.
“That would be great. If you’re hungry, I could whip something up in the kitchen, I have a feeling Beth might be asleep for a little while… Michael and Michelle have always talked about you, it would be nice to… get to know you for myself.”
That sounded like it was loaded with some kind of hidden meaning and you’d go to hell with gasoline drawers on if you said you didn’t want to get to know Sy a LOT better but you’re surprised by how bold you feel.
“I’d like that, darlin’. Michelle’s always talking about you… I’ve been curious myself.”
Curious. Syverson had been curious about you?
Maybe nursing Beth through her first tooth wouldn’t be so bad… as long as Captain Syverson wanted to help.
From the latest Italian interview (this is translated back to English, there may be errors)
Interviewer: We have just found out that during his stay in Rome he married his fiance Caitlin. What is the most important ingredient in a relationship?
Aidan: There are two. Kindness first. If you do not listen to the other, also accepting that they are in disagreement with you, and on the contrary you prefer to stick to winning it, as if it were a competition, you lose sight of compassion and respect.
Interviewer: And the other ingredient?
Aidan: Passion, which is the opposite of caution.
And if you listen closely, you can now hear ovaries exploding all over the world...
Following the Crossfit competition, Henry spent his night out in one of the local bars in Detroit, MI, and took a few pictures with fans. One of those photos is definitely the most adorable photo of Henry we've ever seen!
Pictures via henrycavill.org; @jaclyn_garofalo and @MrsAGilmore.
