Even If You Don't Mean It - Part Three

Even If You Don't Mean It - Part Three

Summary: Your reunion with Sy is just as passionate you hoped it would be, but things start to become strained when you suspect he isn't being honest with you.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 10.5k

Warnings:

Series Warnings:

Smut including oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, dirty talking, implied masturbation (m and f), showering together, slight praise kink, anal play (f receiving), mentions of PTSD, descriptions of PTSD, mentions of war, angst, fluff.

Part Three Warnings:

Smut including fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, intimate touching, showering together, dirty talk, slight praise kink, discussion of PTSD, insomnia, illusions to war, angst, fluff.

Authors Note:

Thanks once again to my wonderful friends and beta readers @amberangel112 and @henryobsessed . Your constant support and friendship means the world to me.

A massive thank you to @radiantheartbeat for editing you have truely lifted my writing and inspired me to be better. It has meant the world to me and I have enjoyed getting to know you through the process as well. Everyone, if you want some more great Henry content, please check out her blog here . You won’t be disappointed.

Divider made by me.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part 2 Part 4 (Coming Soon)

Sighing contentedly, you put your hand on his still panting chest and run your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. It curls slightly around your fingers, and you like the way your feminine hand looks against his masculine chest. Slowly, his breathing evens out and he takes long, deep breaths.

“I could stay like this all day,” Sy says, wistfully, and you hum to let him know you agree, “But, I should take a shower.”

“I don’t mind if you’re a little sweaty,” You kiss the still humid skin on his neck to prove it, “Your cuddles are nice.”

Sy’s head is tucked deep into your neck, his breath is hot and harsh against your cooling skin. He’s mostly still, but occasionally his lips sweep over your skin so lightly that it could barely be called a kiss. When you hear him exhale with a moan, you quickly realise that he’s not actually kissing you; he’s yawning.

Sitting up straight, you catch him in the act, with his bearded mouth wide and his nose all scrunched up, looking as tired as a Grizzly bear ready to hibernate.

“You’re tired!” you utter, as your fingers dive into his beard. You still can’t tell if you like his facial hair. His ruggedness, an obvious display of machismo, is definitely a turn on and it feels so much better than you thought it would. On the other hand, you miss seeing his perfectly sculpted jaw and his dimpled chin. The beard makes him look older too, and no one except old men wear beards anymore. Maybe he’d look good with a goatee, lots of guys were wearing those recently.

“No, just getting used to the time zones again, that’s all.”

“What time did you get to bed last night?”

“Baby, I’m fine,” Sy insists.

You consider arguing the point. You know how little sleep you got last night, and you assume Sy would have experienced something similar, not to mention the travelling he’d done all day. His eyes are a little red around the edges and he’s blinking a lot. He reminds you of a kid who’s trying to stay up to see Santa Clause, barely able to keep their eyes open, but insistent on not missing out.

“You want to take that shower now, Chewbacca?” you ask, giving Sy’s beard a little tug. You climb off his tree trunk like thighs and collect your discarded clothes.

Sy stands, following you, and grabs hold of your hand with a raised eyebrow, “You don’t like it?” he asks, bringing your hand to his chin and rubbing his whiskers on your palm. It tickles and you squirm. Smirking, he adds, “I didn’t hear any complaints earlier.”

Playfully you jerk your hand away with a giggle, “I’m not used to it is all. Never even kissed a guy with a beard before, let alone…” your face feels like it's on fire and your ears burn, “the other thing.” Now that your blood has cooled, so has your confidence.

Sy keeps smirking as he gives you an amused look and bends to pick up his clothes, “Never been eaten out by a guy with a beard?”

Oh God! A jolt of energy tingles your spine and your core clenches. Shit, just hearing him say those words gets you worked up again.

You shake your head, “Never,” you say softly.

“You liked it though, didn't ya?” Sy’s smirk turns to a full grin, and his cheeks crease into dimples just above his beard. His eyes no longer seem tired, instead they shine with roguish intent, “It’s alright, baby, you can tell me. It’ll be our li’l secret.”

You bite your lip. He is such a flirt, how had he hidden this side of himself all this time? Turning away from him you make your way down the short hallway.

“Of course I liked it,” you say a little shyly, glancing behind you to make sure Sy is following, “You know I did! You just want to hear me say it, don’t you?”

“I ain’t gonna deny that, I like hearin’ you say you enjoyed it. ‘Specially in that voice of yours,” Sy’s voice grows raspy, and his register lowers as he speaks. You feel his body behind yours as he wraps an arm around your belly and growls into your ear, “Listenin’ to you moan my name— shit, you could make a man lose his damn mind, ya know that Sugar?”

Lose his mind? If that’s the case, you aren’t going to be far behind. One turn of phrase and he can melt you. It’s been a long time since a man has had that effect on you and the only thing that stops you from being embarrassed is that it’s obvious you have a similar effect on him.

“Give me your clothes,” you say with a warble in your voice.

Sy passes you his bundle and taking his bag from the hallway, you open the door to your room.

“My bedroom,” you tell Sy. His lips seem to grow tight into a line as he sticks his head through the door while you drop his clothes and his bag on the bed.

“You ok?” you ask him as you reenter the hall.

Sy eyes you up and down as he draws his lower lip into his mouth. Whatever the look he had on his face a few seconds ago was gone, replaced by a lusty grin.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he says lewdly.

Fuck. It didn't cross your mind that without the bundle of clothes to hide behind you are completely naked. You have a sudden urge to cover up despite it being completely ridiculous, he’s already seen you naked and is about to get into the shower with you. But context is everything, and casually standing naked in the hallway feels different and so much more bold.

Fighting the urge to run and hide, you try to draw out the confidence you had not fifteen minutes earlier, and you stand still for a moment to let him look. He looks at you for a long time, his eyes slowly sliding down your body, as he takes a small step closer to you. For the first time you take in his whole naked form; he is magnificent. To you, he is masculinity manifest; the powerful muscular frame, the sheer size of him, and the hair covering his body that seems to be so perfectly manicured. You can’t stop your gaze from going lower to the thicket of curly hair and the leviathan that lay there, unhidden.

Imitating Sy’s reaction, you bite your lip at the sight of him. He’s not soft, but not entirely hard and he points to the floor. His length isn't much different from when he is hard, but he gets so much thicker. You know, when that moment arrives, he’s going to fill you up and stretch you wide. You think about grabbing his hand and taking him to your bedroom instead of the bathroom, but Sy takes another step closer and rests his hand on your cheek.

“I thought you were shy or something,” Sy says, moving his thumb slowly over the apple of your cheek. You must have looked confused because he continues, “You were reluctant that one time we talked about sex on the phone. I thought you were nervous about it, or really inexperienced.”

“Are you… disappointed?”

“Are you crazy?” Sy says quickly, and you can’t help but laugh. “Don’t you know…”

Sy stops mid sentence, his brows draw low, and his tongue works over his teeth as he begins to feel you. His palms rub over your body, occasionally stopping at random spots, squeezing you there, sometimes getting a handful of flesh, sometimes bone. His eyes follow the path of his hands until he sighs with a smile and looks at you.

“You are so fuckin’ gorgeous,” Sy shakes his head, “Remember the night we met?”

You nod, “At The Baron.”

“Yeah. The second you walked in, the whole bar got quiet. It made me—”

Sy’s jaw juts out, and he holds it there a moment as he seems to stare at nothing over your shoulder. You cover his hand with yours and his face relaxes a little as you slide your hand over his forearm. He smiles a little at you, but his eyes still seem distant.

“I remember turnin’ in my chair and watchin’ you, tryin’ to get it straight in my mind what a girl like you would be doin’ in a place like The Baron.”

You laugh and go to the small closet next to the bathroom to pull out a couple of washcloths and a spare towel for Sy.

“Pre-gaming,” you tell him with a grin. He looks surprised and you shrug, “One of my friends is dating the manager, he gives us cheap drinks.”

Sy narrows his eyes, “You ain’t still goin’ there, are you?”

“Sometimes.”

Sy gives you a long, hard look with raised eyebrows, then shakes his head.

“What?”

“It’s a rough bar,” he says, “It ain’t safe.”

You wait for him to tell you not to go there anymore, but he doesn’t, and even though you can tell he wants to, he bites his tongue. There is something reassuring about the way he suggests his displeasure at the thought of you going to that bar, but restrains himself from forbidding your actions. He seems to respect your autonomy and trusts in your ability to make decisions for yourself. These little parts of him that you’re discovering are only serving to increase your attraction to him. You pull on his neck, and give him a quick kiss to let him know you approve.

“Bathroom,” you say, indicating the next door in the hall. Sy points at it and you nod, waiting for him to go in before you follow, using the towels to hide behind, “I met you at The Baron,” you point out, bringing the conversation back to the first night you met as you pass him a washcloth.

Sy grins, his cheeks crease into dimples that peek out from just above his beard. He takes the cloth and draws you into his arms, “And look where we’ve ended up.”

“As if this isn’t where you wanted to be that night.”

“Course it is,” Sy’s voice drops low again, becoming softer and deeper, “Same with every other man there that night. You were otherworldly in that bar, Sugar. As out of place as a thoroughbred ploughin’ a field,'' Sy breathes in a little shakily, as if he’s reliving the moment. His voice is husky when he speaks again, “Then you smiled in my direction… and it was like a punch that knocked the wind out of me. You were so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t breathe.”

Goosebumps break over you as your body warms and your skin stays cool. Had he really thought that? He had never indicated he felt that way before. You think back to your date. He hadn’t been anything like he was today. Yeah, his kisses had been amazing, full of passion and desire but he’d also been very respectful. He barely touched you anywhere below your shoulders, his hands only occasionally wandering to your hip.

“So,” you lick your lips, unsure if you should ask the question that’s plagued you for over a year, “Why didn’t you ask me out again?”

Sy doesn’t answer for a while, not because he’s ignoring you or trying to come up with a lie, he just seems to be thinking, wanting to make sure his words are appropriate. It strikes you suddenly that this must be how he looked when he was quiet on the phone.

“I was given my orders a couple of days after I took you out.”

That isn’t a surprise. You thought he would have been given more notice than the week before, which is when he told you he was leaving.

“I thought,” he smiles briefly, “incorrectly, that if I didn’t see you again, it’d be easier on me. I couldn’t ask ya to wait for me, not after just one date. And a girl like you wasn't gonna be single for long. I figured by the time I got back, you’d be seein’ someone else. Thought if I kept my distance and didn’t start anythin’…”

Sy steps back and runs a hand over his short hair, as if he is signalling he was done speaking. You wait a while to make sure before you speak.

“I thought you weren’t interested,” you say.

Sy looks at you shaking his head, “How on God’s green earth did ya get that idea?”

You shrug, “Look at it from my perspective. You hit on me at the bar. You get my number. You call me the next day, and take me out the following weekend. We had a great time, then we came back here and…well…”

Sy grins, “I thought that was makin’ it clear I was interested.”

“It was,” you say slowly before sighing heavily, “Then you didn't ask me out again, and that pretty much told me I wasn't going to hear from you anymore.”

Sy takes your hand in his, lifting it palm up and kissing it. His nose hovers above your wrist and he inhales deeply through his nose. He growls playfully and nips at your fingers, “God dammit, woman. This perfume of yours, what’s it called? I’m gonna buy you a lifetime supply so you never stop wearin’ it.”

Though he’s obviously trying to distract you, he’s so skillfully charming you can’t help but giggle. “Quit it, Sy!”

Sy gives your finger one more bite before he stops, but he keeps hold of your hand. He’s smiling widely, as broadly and mischievously as a school boy. He’s so attractive, but when he smiles like that, he’s dazzling; it's so stunning you forget what you were talking about before he became playful. Dazed, you turn on the shower one handed, unwilling to let him go and unsure if he would release you anyway.

Despite your small apartment, your shower is spacious, obviously designed for couples and it accommodates you both with ease. However, it turns out you don’t need much space; Sy locks his arms around you, guiding your bodies so each of you has a shoulder under the spray. You lay your heads against each other and for a while that's how you stay, wrapped in each other’s arms, the embrace as warm as the sultry, soothing water.

When you lift your head, Sy has a small smile on his lips and he leans into you, nudging his nose against yours as his beard caresses your skin. Then his lips stroke yours softly and your eyes slide closed as the sensation of his kiss makes you float away.

“I fucked up, baby. I never meant for you to feel like I'd lost interest in you,” he says. It takes you a minute to remember what he is apologising for, “I thought walkin’ away early would keep you from gettin’ hurt too.”

“So why did you call a couple of months later then?”

Sy laughed ruefully, “’Cause I’m an asshole.”

You shake your head at him with a soft chuckle.

“It’s true. I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. I thought about ya so much that I couldn’t remember what I used to think about before I met you.”

If that wasn't one of the most romantic things you had ever heard, and he just said it like it was no big deal. There wasn't any emphasis or stressing the point that he was trying to be romantic. He said it like it was a fact, which only increased its impact. You’re stunned into silence, not quite understanding how Sy can be so nonchalant when he makes these little declarations of his affection for you.

Sy doesn’t seem to be expecting a reply and he guides your head to his shoulder again. With a deep, satisfied sigh, you lean into him and wrap your arms around his waist. Slowly he sways with you, a gentle rock back and forth that is just shy of dancing.

“This is nice,” you whisper, making your voice just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the spray echoing through the room. Sy hums in agreement.

“Can I wash you, Sy?” you boldly ask.

Sy has said that you’re responsive, but he really should see himself right now. His lips part as he breathes harder, and a soft flush blooms over his cheeks. Most telling though, is the feel of his cock as it jerks against your belly. He nods slowly in response.

Lathering the washcloth, you start with Sy’s chest, the dark, coarse hair suds up quickly as you sweep the cloth over his body. You wash his neck, his wide, sloped shoulders, and his thick, brawny arms, and then his taut stomach. At first, he is stiff and still, moving only his eyes as he tracks the path of your hand. Then he starts to breathe, deeper and longer, and moves his body beneath your touch, helping you by turning slightly and lifting his arms.

You gesture for him to face the other way and you wash his back, laying a chaste kiss against his spine. He’s smooth to touch and warm against your lips as you kiss between his shoulder blades. He leans into the cloth as you scrub a little harder, and makes a growl of pleasure. His skin is pale on his chest and back while his neck and arms are deeply tanned. You inventory the small scars and his perfect imperfections, trying to commit them to memory. Once again, you’re struck by how phenomenal his body is, how hulking and bullish. He looks so powerful, strong, raw, and so fucking masculine. Though you love the tender way he touches you, part of you wants to know what it would be like to feel his strength, to feel helpless in his arms, to be completely and utterly overpowered by him.

“Hmm, that's good,” Sy hums.

“Yeah?” Pressing your body against his back, you bring the soapy cloth over his ass and thighs.

“Yeah,” Sy confirms throatily.

Wrapping your arms around him, you reach between his legs, “And this?”

“Fuck!” Throwing an arm out against the tiled wall, his hips roll as your cloth covered hand moves over his now fully erect cock. You feel his hand cover yours and he guides your movements over his sex in quick, gestures.

Sy turns around swiftly and takes the cloth from your hand. You don’t understand, he seemed to be enjoying your touch and he was as hard as steel in your hand, but he pulled himself away.

Your confusion is short lived as he lathers the other washcloth and grins at you wolfishly, “My turn.”

Sy waits for you to nod before he turns you, laying his hand flat over your belly he gathers you close as he starts to wash. He leans his chin on your shoulder and watches as his hand moves over your breasts, slippery, but pleasantly rough, and your nipples harden in seconds under his languidly sensual touch.

He kisses your neck, softly and gently, dulcetly humming into your skin. Sy is so hard where he presses into you, just the feel of him makes your core throb maddingly. You ache to move and a near desperation fills you to do so, and soon you find yourself rubbing your body against his cock trying to entice him for more.

“Shh, baby. Easy,” Sy drawls in your ear.

Holy fuck. His voice is so gravelly, so coarse; and the commanding way he stills your movements by placing a firm hand on your hip, it makes you feel boneless, and your knees almost give way. Your fingers clutch at his forearm, gripping tight to hold yourself upright.

“I’m not fuckin’ you in here,” Sy tells you, then chuckles softly as you whine, “We’re just gonna wash.”

At first he is true to his word as he moves the cloth over your arms, shoulders and breasts again. Then he drops all pretence and the washcloth, which makes a splash as it falls to the tiles. His soapy hands are all over you, gliding over your skin as he teases your neck with soft brushes of his lips, his warm breath, and the constant rumble in his throat. Using his foot, he edges your feet apart and washes you gently between your legs. It’s arousing and erotic. Your body burns, but strangely your eyelids grow heavy and you lay your head against Sy’s shoulder. He hums and presses a tender kiss against your temple.

“Good girl,” Sy murmurs into your ear, “Hmm, you’re so soft.”

“You keep saying that.”

“‘Cause I keep thinkin’ it,” Sy says, “Your skin is soft, your lips are soft, your mouth is soft, and dear God your pussy,” he groans, pressing his swollen cock against you, “It's like smooth, wet, hot silk.”

You close your eyes and let your arms fall lazily at your sides, opening your body up completely for Sy, silently inviting him to take his fill. You’re well and truly clean, there’s no soap left but Sy keeps touching you, his hands moving over you with the same easy confidence he’d had earlier. You think he’s going to forget what he said about fucking you as his fingers graze teasingly over your now slick and swollen pussy.

Instead he sighs and wraps his arms around yours, effectively trapping you beneath his arms as his hands cover your breasts. He doesn’t caress you or squeeze you, he just seems content in holding you. Slowly the blazing heat he built up in you reduces to a manageable smoulder. He kisses your neck a few more times, short chaste brushes of his lips before he sighs again.

“We should get out,” Sy grumbles with obvious regret.

You don’t want to get out either, but you don’t stop him as he leaves the shower while you shut off the water. When you turn around he's holding your towel and as you step out of the cubicle he lifts it over your head and places it around your shoulders. He hums and kisses your forehead before wrapping his own towel around his waist.

“Thank you,” you say.

Sy smiles in acknowledgement and follows you to the bedroom. He ogles you as you dry off, his cock is still stiff and you pretend not to notice. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him too. More than seeing him naked, watching him towel off is strangely erotic and intimate.

A sudden longing fills you as you realise that this piece of domesticity could become normal if this thing between you and Sy can last. This yearning, for him to be with you day and night, and for him to be at home with you, it feels like he’s holding your heart on a string and each moment you’re together he tugs you closer and closer.

“Which side do you want to sleep on?” you ask, pulling on your robe. You don’t bother with underwear because you hope you won’t stay dressed long enough to need them. Sy has put on a pair of track pants with a wife beater and he looks at your bed irritably as he gnaws on his bottom lip.

“Huh?” Sy looks at you, his eyes a little wild as they dart around the room then back to the bed. He rubs a hand over his short hair, “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

Your heart sinks. What the hell happened in the space of a few minutes? “Why not?” you ask tersely.

“Bed’s too small.” His voice is cold and distant.

Scrunching your face up, you look at your bed. It doesn’t look too small to you. Sure, Sy is a big guy, but you had also figured there would be quite a bit of snuggling, and you certainly don’t need a lot of room for that. Besides, aren’t army beds small?

“It’s a queen,” you tell Sy, trying to refute his argument.

He grunts as you come closer, “It’s too soft,” he mumbles and you can barely hear him.

“Sy, if you don't want to spend the night with me, you don't have to make up excuses,” Although you try to bite back your agitation, it carries in your voice and Sy picks it up easily.

“That’s fucking bullshit, Sugar, and you know it,” Sy barks, his harsh tone reflecting your annoyance. He’s never spoken to you like that before and it makes you take a step back. His eyes widen as he realises how he sounded and he tempers his expression, “Fuck, baby, I’m sorry. I…” he cuts himself off, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Something is wrong. He was allusive earlier when you had asked if he was spending the night, and you recalled that he had a similar attitude on the phone when you talked about sleeping together. At the time, you had thought it was because he wasn’t sure how far you were willing to go with him and he hadn’t wanted to pressure you, but now it all seemed suspect. Surely, he knew that you wanted to have sex at some point tonight, especially if you slept in the same bed; there was far too much sexual tension between you for it not to happen.

“I do wanna stay with you,” Sy says, drawing you into an embrace, “You gotta know I want nothing more in this world than to wake up with you in my arms.”

“Then why are you making such a big issue out of it?”

“It’s nothin’, baby… I’m just…” Sy grins at you, “I’m hungry.”

You aren't sure if you believe him. The smile on his face doesn't quite reach his eyes and it leaves you feeling on edge. There's something he’s not telling you, and the fact that he isn’t being open with you makes you wonder if he’s ever been honest with you at all. You return his smile with a disingenuous one of your own while your mind furiously tries to decide if you should call him out on the suspected insincerity.

You let it go, hoping that you’re just reading too much into things, “Come on then. I’ll cook you dinner.”

In the kitchen, you give Sy a beer and tell him to have a seat while you prepare dinner. He seems more relaxed now as he sits at the island bench watching you with a more genuine half-smile as you gather your utensils. Maybe he really isn't hiding anything. Shaking off your doubts, you concentrate on preparing the meal.

“We could order in if ya want,” Sy says, “I do owe you a few dinners.”

“When was the last time you had a home cooked meal with fresh food?”

“It’s been a while,” Sy admits.

“So, let me cook for you. I cook for myself, it’s not that much more to cook for you too.”

“Okay,” Sy agrees, “The offer is there though, maybe tomorrow night?”

His words make you pause momentarily as you reach for a head of lettuce in the crisper drawer. After the conversation you just had in the bedroom, his plan to see you again tomorrow seems odd. If he doesn’t want to spend the night, but still wants to see you tomorrow, why not just stay?

You continue gathering the ingredients, trying to push away the nagging uncertainties. It isn't much, just a couple of steaks and a salad but Sy’s eyes grow wide at the sight of the two beef ribeyes on the plate. You silently congratulate yourself as he stares at the food and licks his lips. Then you stifle a giggle as you realise that, sometimes, he really does look at you like you’re something to eat. Maybe that should upset you, but it doesn’t. Maybe there isn’t anything to worry about, maybe he just likes sleeping alone.

There are so many unanswered questions in your mind, you’re relieved when they dissipate as you immerse yourself in the meal prep. Sy seems content to watch you, barely making any conversation until you ask him how he likes his steak cooked.

“Medium rare,” he says, “Cooked on the outside, a little bloody in the centre.”

“You’re a man after my own heart,” you agree.

“Yes ma’am,” Sy says with a roguish grin, “Among other things,” He winks at you, well he tries to, but it’s more of an exaggerated blink.

Pressing your lips together, you hold in your laugh, feeling your face heat with the effort.

“You laughin’ at me, darlin’?” Sy asks, playfully.

You shake your head still avoiding looking at him, but he moves his head into your line of sight still wearing the same puckish smirk and you release your laughter with an embarrassing bark.

The moment of light-heartedness breaks the tension between you and you both begin to talk about what foods you like, the conversation flowing as easily as it had on the phone. You feel relieved, in the back of your mind there has always been the worry that perhaps your relationship wouldn’t be the same in person; or worse, that once sex was introduced, the friendly ease you had with each other would disappear. Of course, you are attracted to Sy and it's what made you agree to a date with him all those months ago, but it was your conversations that convinced you there was the potential for more.

Watching Sy eat was a joy unto itself. You had only ever cooked for a couple of men and none of them seemed to eat with the level of gusto he was exhibiting now. You marvel at how he could be so quick but also maintain his manners. It was like he inhaled the food rather than chewed it and he sat back nursing a second beer while you finished eating.

“Want to watch the movie?’ you ask when you are done. You look at Sy and see him staring at you, or rather through you, “Sy?”

“Sorry,” Sy says with a start. He sniffs and seems to give himself a shake, “I was… somewhere else there for a minute.”

“You alright?” you ask and it suddenly dawns on you what his problem could be. The phone calls when he was too quiet, the worry about sleeping, how distracted and far away he looked sometimes, he reminded you a little of your father, “We don't have to, we could watch something else, or we could just talk?” Please talk to me Sy, you want to add, but bite your tongue. If his problem is what you think it is, he’s probably not going to discuss it easily.

“We’ve talked a lot,” Sy says, “About everythin’, and nothin’,” he puts a hand on your face and his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek, “How is it we still find things to say?”

You shrug, “There’s still so much that I don't know about you.”

“You know me, Sugar. You may not know all the details, but you know me.”

“Details are important, Sy.”

He grunts and drops his hand. He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs, resting an ankle on his knee, “What kind of details are you lookin’ for?”

“I don’t know,” you say slowly. His guard has gone up again, even his eyes are narrowed and full of suspicion.

He nods and frowns slightly, looking at you with raised brows, “Are you talkin’ about my tour?”

Jesus, he’s blunt. You try not to shift uncomfortably under the weight of his stare. He does not look impressed, “I mean if something’s weighing on your mind… if something’s bothering you…” You trail off as his eyes darken.

“You don’t wanna know about that shit,” He shakes his head and folds his arms across his broad chest, “I thought you’d understand that… you more than most.”

“Because of my Dad and brother?”

“Yeah. How much do you know about what goes on over there?”

Your throat feels dry and you reach for your wine, gulping it down hard and filling the glass again, “More than you’d think.”

Sy looks surprised, “Your Dad told you stories?”

“He didn’t have to tell us. He used to scream during the night,” you say, keeping your tone low, “One time he actually got me and my brother out of bed and had us in the car before Mom found us and redirected him back to bed. He was asleep with his eyes open. He’d even responded to questions.”

Sy grunts but makes no comment.

“I didn’t know at the time what was going on, but… I know now,” You inhale sharply; just revisiting that night in your mind feels like reliving the trauma, and you can’t imagine how the men in your life lived through the real thing, night after night, “I’m not telling you about my father because I understand what you might be going through, because I don’t, and I know that. I only know that he had to talk about it.”

Sy’s chest starts to heave, and he looks away from you, his jaw juts forward as he runs his tongue over his teeth. His arms drop by his side, and his ankle falls off his knee. You bring your chair closer to his, your knees almost touching. You lay your hand out palm up on his thigh. He stares at it so long that you think about taking it back, but then he sighs and takes it in his.

“What do ya want me to say, Sugar?” He asks, folding both of his hands around yours. They’re so big that just the tips of your fingers peek through.

You move to the edge of the chair to be closer to him. You want to take him in your arms, to hold him and console him. Not just for this moment, but for all of the other times you had heard the need for comfort in his voice and you were unable to provide it.

“Whatever you want to. Just know that you don’t have to hide from me Sy, I don’t scare easily.”

“Come here, baby,” Sy tugs on your hand and you stand, intending to sit on his lap like he seems to like. Instead he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his face into your belly. Immediately, that deep feminine instinct to soothe kicks in and you run your fingers over his soft, short hair.

“Shhh,” the gentle shushing noises seem to also come from that same primal urge. As you stroke his head and tenderly scratch at his neck and back, you wonder if this is another thing Sy thought about: how it would feel to have his woman hold him like this. His woman. Even if you think of yourself with that title, it's never been addressed. Like so much with Sy, you talk and talk, but so much gets left unsaid.

“I can’t sleep,” Sy says, his voice muffled, and you stop breathing, not wanting to do anything to stop his admission, “I haven't slept more than a couple of hours a night for a few weeks now,” He’s quiet for a second or two and you lean back trying to get a look at his face, but he stops you, “I can’t… please… just stay like this for me, baby.”

“Ok, Noah,” you lull.

Sy squeezes you gently, “You’ve never said my name before,” he murmurs.

“You don’t like it?”

“I do like it,” he says, his voice still a little smothered by your robe. Then he takes a deep breath and speaks clearly, “Sometimes I wake in a sweat, kicking at the blankets cause I feel… trapped, I guess.”

“That's why you don’t want to spend the night with me?”

“I haven’t slept with a woman for a long time,” he confesses, and you feel him tense before adding, “I mean I’ve had—”

“I know what you mean,” you interrupt, surprising yourself at how quickly the seed of jealousy bore fruit in your mind.

“I don’t know if I’d lash out at ya, if I’d— I don’t want to hurt you,” Sy finally raises his head and meets your eyes. Your heart skips and you’re barely able to suppress a gasp. He looks awful, and so tired; his eyes are bleary and wild and rimmed with red, “I want to spend the night with you,” he says as he stands up, keeping his arms firmly around you, “God damn, I want to so badly,” He drops his head until your noses meet, “I wanna go to bed with you every night and wake up with your pretty li’l head on my chest every mornin’.”

You smile at the thought, “I want that too, Noah.”

“I just don’t know if I can,” Sy says in a pained voice.

“Has this happened before? The nightmares, I mean?”

“Occasionally,” Sy admits, “But not like this.” He looks above your head and you worry that you’re going to lose his focus, so you hold his face between your hands and direct his gaze back to yours.

“Can we try?” you ask.

Sy frowns, and it seems like time slows as he assesses you before letting out a long breath, “Are you sure?”

“I told you Sy,” you smile a little, “You’re gonna have to do better than that to scare me off.”

Sy chuffs, a small smile appears on his face too, “Ok baby.”

His eyes drop and you sense a swift change in his mood as he sucks in a breath through his teeth. Puzzled, you follow his gaze and notice that your robe has fallen open, revealing the centre of your chest and inner curve of your breasts, down to your navel.

“Sorry,” you mumble, as you take a couple of steps back and fumbling to close the garment.

“Stop.” His words are a command and you drop your hands almost immediately.

Sy closes the short distance between you, stopping before your bodies can meet. His chest starts to expand a little faster, the air whistles through his teeth with each panting breath. With slightly shaky hands, he pulls at the belt and the knot falls apart. He looks at you briefly with narrowed eyes and a slightly open mouth before he looks down at his hands. He grips the lapels and parts the robe at your waist, opening it wide.

The tension slowly leaves his face as he takes you in and his tongue glides over his bottom lip before he draws it into his mouth and bites it. His eyes are everywhere, staring at you greedily, as though he were seeing you for the first time. There’s an open yearning to his wide eyed gaze, a vulnerability he doesn’t try to disguise. He raises his hand to your waist but stops and meets your eyes before he makes contact with you. You don’t dare move, because you fear if he keeps looking at you like he is, your legs won’t be able to hold you.

Heat.

That’s the only word you can think of as his eyes seem to want to burn through yours, and all you want in the world is to go up in flames. He doesn’t drop his gaze as he puts his hands on your waist. He’s gentle, the pads of his fingers making contact first, leading with a tender caress.

Sy hums softly as he slides the robe off of your shoulders before wrapping an arm around you. The energy between you feels like electricity arcing; he draws you in closer until your chest meets his and a jolting spark shoots down your spine, straight to your clit.

Barely suppressing a moan, you put your arms around his shoulders and bring his head into your neck. You can hear and feel his muffled groan as he nuzzles into you and tightens his arms.

“I’m gonna take you to bed,” he rasps as his lips move gently over your skin, “God, I want you. I want all of you.”

“Then take me, Sy,” you whisper because you couldn’t speak any louder if you wanted to, you’re so breathless.

Sy doesn’t wait for a second invitation, keeping an arm around you he walks you to your room. He shepherds you backwards until your legs hit the bed and you let yourself fall onto the mattress with a giggle. Sy pulls his tank off as he climbs onto the bed, smiling as he sits with his back against the headboard and pulls you over him, your legs on either side of his.

The sun is starting to set and brilliant red and orange light seeps through your curtains and hits Sy’s face just right. You stare at him, struck by how handsome he is. His cheekbones are so perfectly highlighted by his beard, and although his skin is marred by scars, it only adds to his rugged perfection.

“What are you lookin’ at, baby?” he asks slowly, drawing your attention to his lips that are stretched into a gentle smile. Now they are perfect. Big enough to suit his face, and so surprisingly soft. Without conscious thought, your thumb sweeps gently over them and he chases it with his teeth, giving you a delicate nip and a kiss.

“Just you,” You keep your voice low too, like any loud noise would break the spell of this moment, “You’re so good looking.”

Sy holds your hand to his lips and kisses your palm, “I could say the same about you, but it wouldn’t do you justice… you’re so much more than ‘good looking’.”

“Sy,” you shake your head, you can feel your cheeks heating, “I–”

He shuts you up with a kiss, lips firm against your mouth. His arms tighten around you and he rolls you over onto your back, “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs emphatically as his hand moves down the side of your body with a tender touch. His hand is hesitant as he sweeps it over your belly, and his voice shakes ever so slightly, “I told you, I’ve never wanted a woman like I want you.”

His fingers trace the curve of your breast, and your nipples tighten as his touch sends a pleasurable shiver down your spine. Sy bites his lip as he watches your reactions.

“I wanna know all the ways I can make you tremble like that. I’m gonna take you every way I know how. I’m gonna make love to you, and I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t breathe. I want you on top of me and under me. I want you on your fuckin’ knees,” he growls, and for a moment you think that’s exactly what he’s going to do. His eyes are wild and hungry, like he’s doing everything he can not to flip you onto your stomach and take you from behind.

Instead he lowers his head to your breasts, taking you into his soft, warm mouth. He peers at you from beneath his brows as he moves to your other breast and his tongue comes out to circle your nipple slowly, his breath cooling the wetness he leaves behind. With a faint moan he draws the tight bud into his mouth, and you gasp as you feel his fingers caressing higher on your inner thigh.

“Open for me baby, let me touch you.”

Your legs part without any thought, it's nearly embarrassing how quickly you obey. But you’re ready for him, so ready, and you want him to know it.

“A little more,” he shifts his weight, giving your legs more room, “That’s it. That’s what I want.”

His fingers keep moving higher, and your thighs quake in anticipation. You drop your head back to the pillow, closing your eyes. God he’s so much, how does he know just what to say, just how to touch you to make you so malleable?

Then he’s on you, his hand is between your legs and the heat of his skin burns your already hot centre.

“Oh God, you’re so wet! So soft and warm,” he moans, burying his head into your chest. Your body surges and your hips move against his palm, “Oh fuck, you’re killin’ me here, baby.”

His teeth sink softly into the flesh of your breast as his finger slips inside you followed swiftly by a second. You hold on to him, gripping his forearm tight, holding him inside you as you rock against his palm, and his mouth moves over your body.

Sy moves behind you, tucking your body in close. Lifting your leg over his and wrapping an arm around your waist, he presses his hardness against your undulating body, grinding and rocking with you. He crushes his mouth against your ear, his beard and lips scratching at your sensitive skin.

“Baby, look at you move, you’re so close ain’t ya? I can feel ya squeezing my fingers. You’re makin’ me so fuckin’ hard.”

You moan, reaching behind you to pull his hips closer to yours. You close your eyes, focussing on the feeling of his fingers, his hot breath on your neck, and his cock rubbing against your ass.

Sy hums, “You like the way my cock feels, don't ya?” Even though you know it's a rhetorical question, you nod emphatically, “Soon as you come, baby, I’m gonna be inside you. God, you’re gonna feel amazing, I’m gonna make it feel so good for you.”

His fingers slide out of your core and press against your clit and your hips buck as you cry out. He growls, the arm around your waist tightens and his teeth sink into your ear. He’s suddenly rough with you, his kiss is full of harsh need, all sucking and biting, and he holds you so tight you can barely breathe. His raw power is so potent, but his touch between your legs is still so gentle where he moves over your clit.

“Sy, I…” you stutter, panting so hard you can’t make the words form.

His arm leaves your waist, fingers sliding up to your cheek to turn your face to his, “Call me Noah, baby,” he kisses you and keeps your face close to his, his voice just a whisper, “I want you to call me Noah.”

You bring your hand to his bearded cheek as you teeter on the edge of your release, “You’re going to make me come, Noah.”

“Good girl. That’s all I want, baby. Do it, come, I want it.”

You close your eyes, so, so close.

“Look at me, I wanna see, I…”

You open your eyes, but barely. You feel intoxicated, so high you could touch the ceiling. Then whatever was holding you up falls away and your body explodes as warmth floods you. Your eyes slide shut again and you can barely hear Sy’s whispered praise.

“That's good, baby. You're so good for me…so beautiful…so fucking perfect,” His kisses move down your neck and across your shoulders as you come back into your body. Still tingling with warmth, your skin feels so sensitive, each brush of his lips stokes the heat in you and you know you must have more of him.

You roll over in his arms and kiss him, letting your hand slide over his head and neck like he enjoys. You thought he’d already be pushing himself into you; he feels so hard and ready. Instead, he moves under your hand like a puppy who wants pats, guiding your touch to where he wants it as he presses his face between your breasts with a groan.

Then, quite suddenly, he pushes you onto your back, rising between your legs until you feel the hardness between his, pressing against your hot center. He’s so heavy above you, but you like it; you want to feel his weight, feel how open you are beneath him as he spreads your legs wide to accommodate his body. He kisses his way back up to your neck, trailing his lips over your throat and jaw.

“Noah,” you murmur, and you squirm beneath him, feeling the length of him slide easily between your slick and swollen slit.

Sy hisses in your ear, then pulls his hips away with a curse.

“Shit, I… do I need a condom?” he asks.

“You’ve been tested, right?” you ask, knowing your brother is tested after every deployment, “And I’m on birth control.”

“Yeah, I have, but I’ll wear one if you want me to.”

“I trust you, Noah,” you tell him sweetly and matter-of-factly.

His brows come together and he looks away, his jaw is hard and you can see the muscles clenching. His chest pumps harder and you feel his already rock-hard cock pulsing against your thigh. He looks at you and lowers himself back down until his weight is on you again, holding his head above yours. His eyes glisten, and you wonder if he is going to cry.

“Are you…”

“Baby, I…” he sighs and leans on his elbows while his fingers stroke your hair, “I’m in so deep with you. You know that right?” Your furrowed brows must have been an answer because he continued, “I’m in so fuckin’ deep, I can barely see the surface.”

Your eyes widen, you’re not stupid, you know what he’s trying to say. Suddenly, your chest becomes tight and tears sting your eyes, “Noah–”

His mouth covers yours, “Don’t say anythin’,” he says into your mouth, “you don't need to, just kiss me.”

And that’s what you do, letting your need for him speak through the hard collision of your lips and the soft insistence of your tongue. Your desire for him is as strong as his is for you. You’re in just as deep as he is and you don’t even try to hide it.

As if of one mind, you each reach a hand between your bodies for his cock. You both let out a short laugh, and instantly you’re nervous again.

“Sorry,” you apologise shily.

Sy shakes his head, “It’s okay. Here,” he takes your hand in his and places it around his length. He moves your hand over him and whispers, “Together.”

You nod and suddenly you’re both serious, eyes locked onto the one another, your breaths coming hard and fast. The silky, soft skin of Sy’s dick slides over your slick folds and your eyes flutter closed with a gasp as his head brushes your clit.

“Look at me baby,” Sy urges and you open your eyes, “Keep lookin’ at me. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

His hand tightens around yours as he guides himself into your core, and you inhale sharply as he slides in, inch by blissful inch. Your eyes widen as you feel the pressure of him sinking into you, and you squeeze his hand as your pussy stretches to welcomely accommodate his girth.

“Oh, fuck,” Sy groans as your bodies meet, lifting your hand off of him and lacing his fingers in yours as he pins your hand against the mattress above your head. He swells within you, filling you, owning you so completely that you don’t know how you ever felt satisfied before him. He kisses your mouth and chin, cheeks and neck, but he still hasn’t moved, his hardness bound within you.

His free hand clutches at your hip like he wants to be deeper than he already is, and his face tightens as he huffs his breaths like a bull, nearly snorting through his flaring nose. Holding his weight on his elbows he moves his free hand to caress your face, he’s so gentle, despite how much he wants you. You feel like he’s holding back, he seems so tense, and you want to tell him to let go and be wild, but— God you want him like this too! His tender touches make your heart skip like the needle jumping on a record. You run your hand up his arm and shoulder and lay it against his fur, watching the billowing of his chest with each panting breath.

“You’re so…” Sy says before slamming his mouth shut and with a low growl, and pressing his lips to yours. His kiss is intense, urgent and needful, with no finesse at all. His lips move roughly over yours, opening them, licking and sinking his teeth into the flesh of your lower lip. Then he moves and it feels like satin gliding over your silken walls. You feel him everywhere, like he’s invaded every cell of your being as his body rolls above yours in a powerful, yet gentle rhythm, so different to the way his lips are moving.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, so… so… fuck! You’re everything, Sugar. You’re everything.”

You kiss him with an intensity to match his, neither of you are holding back now, you need him so desperately.You tug your hand out from beneath his, grabbing at his back, feeling the way his spine rolls and his muscles ripple as he undulates above you. His skin is searingly hot and you pull on his shoulders, wrapping your legs around him, craving a closer proximity to all of that heat, all of that muscle, and all of that raw power.

“More,” you implore, fingers digging into the hard muscle of his ass, “I need more.”

“Like this,” he growls, his voice rumbling like an engine, deep and throaty. He keeps the same easy flow but pushes into you with a hard grunt.

“God, yes,” you moan as your back arches.

Your body catches his new rhythm and you move together, eyes firmly locked on each other, neither of you can look away. How can it be like this? How can it feel this good when it’s never been like this with anyone else. Suddenly, all of those months of waiting, all of the worry and build up, come crashing down over you. Your vision blurs and you can’t blink fast enough to stop the tears from falling.

“Sugar, I…”

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, pulling on his neck until his whole body rests on yours. “Please— please don't stop,” You kiss him hard, begging him with your mouth, demanding more with your hips.

“Shit, baby, I don’t know if I should…” You close your eyes with a shuddering moan, and feel the rough pads of his thumbs wipe at the tears that spill over your temples. Sy groans, and drops his head into your neck, his arms wrap around your back, “It’s okay, you’re good. I'm here, I’ve got you,” he mumbles as his lips gently kiss along the side of your neck.

Sy slides an arm further up your back and cradles the back of your head, while the other lifts your leg, holding it under his arm. Oh God! He moves, pushing so much deeper, and he’s hitting that spot that makes you go wild. Your fingers dig into his neck and back, his skin is slick with sweat and he wipes his face against his arm before he leans over you, pressing his forehead against yours.

You feel the soft pillows of his lips skim over your face, gliding over the planes of your skin as he mumbles your name, so softly you’re not even sure he said it. You open your eyes and you feel him as you’re held by his gaze, you feel his love, his passion, his need. And as he whispers your name again, you feel him so profoundly that it seems as though he has seeped into the marrow of your bones.

You’re close to your peak, and you cry out wordlessly as your body pulls tighter and tighter, “Noah, I’m…” you're so breathless, panting, you can't even say it.

“It's okay baby, let it happen, I want it. Give yourself to me, come on my cock. I wanna feel you, I fuckin’ want it all, give it to me, Sugar,” Sy grunts out his encouragement through hard gritted teeth. His head pushes so hard against yours it almost hurts, but his thumb strokes your cheek softly and his fingers move over your neck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as that welcome and familiar tightening grows in your gut. You know you must be close to shouting, but all you can hear is Sy’s muttered urgings, the slap of your bodies colliding with one another, and the rustle of the pillow beneath your head as Sy pushes you further up the bed with each thrust.

“Christ, look at you, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, so fuckin’ hot,” Sy whispers before his tongue slides over your parted lips, “Come for me, baby. God, I wanna feel you.”

You kiss him, clumsy and desperate, clutching him closer and tighter, not letting go until you crest your peak and fall into your orgasm. Waves of pleasure make your whole body contract and release, you can feel your core tighten around him, feel him as he keeps fucking you through your climax and the little, shivering aftershocks that ripple through you as he hits that spot again and again.

He doesn't stop, doesn’t slow down, if anything, he’s going harder than before. His arms slide under yours and he grabs your shoulders in his hands using them for leverage. His eyes stay on yours until he can’t hold back anymore and he swears, his lip rising into a snarl before he throws his head back with a deep primal growl. You’re awestruck as his neck fills with tension, rivulets of sweat run down his reddening skin and the muscles tighten, tendons and veins popping as he strains with effort. Your already stretched core is spread wide again and you cry out as you feel him thicken and release into you.

Then he stills, his head drops back to your neck and his hot, panting breath roars in your ear. For a moment, you feel all his weight as he pulls an arm out from behind your back and searches until he finds your hand, slipping his fingers between yours. With a hum you squeeze his hand and using your free arm and both legs you hug him, and Sy chuckles softly.

His laugh makes you grin and his kiss on your neck makes you want to melt for him all over again. “God damn,” he murmurs. You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed and a Cheshire grin has spread across his face. You kiss his lips, and his eyes open, his smile widening until a dimple creases his cheek.

“Yeah,” you say, “God damn.”

For a while you both lay there looking at each other while you catch your breath. Sy’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, and you bring it to your lips giving it a lingering kiss.

Sy closes his eyes and kisses your cheek. His slowly softening cock falls from your core as he rolls onto his back and you protest with a whine.

“Don't worry, I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he says, pulling you into the crook of his arm. You smile and rest your head on his shoulder, your fingers are drawn to his chest hair like there's a magnetic pull. Although wet and matted by sweat and friction, it’s still comforting as your fingers comb through the coarse curls and you close your eyes. Sy yawns, and you imagine his eyes have closed too as his fingers lazily dance up and down over your arm.

Not wanting to imagine it, you lift your head and rest your chin on his chest. Sure enough, his eyes are closed, the muscles in his face seem to be at rest and you stay there, transfixed, watching as he seems to flirt with the edge of consciousness. Soon his fingers stop their caress and his hand falls limply over your arm, presumably asleep.

There’s a part of you that is still disbelieving of his presence here, that you’d actually just had sex. You felt like if you fell asleep now, you would awake to find it had all been a dream. You fight the urge to trace the lines of his features: the straight, but bumpy nose, the strong, prominent brows, the high, chiseled cheekbones, and those soft, plush lips. Instead you rest your head back onto his shoulder and watch him slumber peacefully, enjoying your uninterrupted study of him.

With a rumble in the back of his throat, Sy opens his eyes with a start, eyes wild and rolling in his head before they quickly settle on you. He sniffs as he takes a second to get his bearings then rolls onto his side, pulling you in close with an exaggerated grunt and a squeeze.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to doze off,” his voice is husky and deep with the remnants of sex and sleep.

“Would you just admit that you’re tired, Sy?” you say teasingly.

He chuckles. He’s got you so close to him, tucked in so tight, that his chin hits the top of your head when he speaks, “I am tired, baby.”

“C’mon, get under the blankets with me.”

You can feel him swallow against your forehead, “I’d like to shower first,” he says.

You kiss his still damp chest. “I told you, I don’t mind you being a little sweaty.”

“Darlin’, I’ve spent about 12 months without a proper shower. I’m gonna take one every chance I get,” he reveals and you can hear a grin in his voice.

“That's fair. Want me to come too?”

“It's ok, I’ll be quick.”

“What I should have said is, I want to come too.”

The shower is much quicker this time, Sy washes himself so fast that he was almost done by the time you finished fussing and got in. Through the frosted door, you see him wrap a towel around his waist and leave the bathroom, coming back with a toothbrush. Finishing just as he returns, you towel off and join him at the sink, the two of you brushing your teeth together.

You both keep looking at one another through the mirror, smiling at each other. Sy grins and gently bumps your shoulder with his, you shake your head with a silent chuckle then lean over the sink to spit out your excess paste.

As you straighten and lift your gaze, it's as if you’ve had a vision, deja vu. In that moment, it was as if the two of you had done this a million times before. Standing here together, preparing for bed at the end of the day, like it was your normal, natural, routine. With a sudden clarity, you could see it, your future with him became crystalised, set in stone, and you wanted this to be your life forever.

oof we've seen lee reacting to reader trying to wear a skimpy outfit and her receiving flowers from a mysterious stranger what about reader on her "woman times" and he notices that she has period stain on her dress while their out in public while maybe having a date or while they're having a stroll around town in broad daylight? 🤨 (this is now officially my new fave emoji)

Evening Walks

+18 ONLY

Pairing : Lee Bodecker x reader (Give In)

Warning : public bleeding, angst, fluff

Word Count : 692

Notes : Sorry it took me so long to write this!! I was waiting for the moment for it to come to me, and today was the day! Also based on this ask by @stonerosedheart !

________________

“Ready, honey?” Lee slipped on a casual, lightweight jacket as he turned around to face her.

Y/N was finishing putting on her shoes. She stood to her full height and nodded, “M’ready.”

Lee linked his arm with hers and kissed her temple before leading them out of the house. Once they got to the sidewalk, Y/N linked her fingers with his and let their hands swing in between them.

Their evening walks were becoming a daily occurrence. After their dinner had settled and they cleaned up the dirty dishes, they put on a comfortable outfit and went walking through the neighborhood. The more often they went, the farther they walked. Now they were walking up to three miles a day. Sometimes they did laps around the main roads. Sometimes they went off to side streets and took the “scenic route” where there were less houses and more trees.

They never planned on where they were going before hand. They just let their feet carry them wherever they may. This evening they stayed in the main neighborhood and ran into several neighbors either working in the yard or grilling out for dinner. Kids were out playing, dogs were barking at cars the drove by. Birds were singing in the temperate wind. It was a beautiful evening and they were glad to have these moments together. They built their image as the pleasant, happy couple without even trying.

They chatted with the older Howard couple several blocks away from their house. They caught up on what they had missed in the past couple weeks. Lee noticed his shoe was untied and knelt down. As he stood back up, his eyes caught a red spot on Y/N’s dress. His brows furrowed before his eyes widened in realization. He swallowed hard as he slowly slipped off his jacket and wrapped it lowly around her shoulders.

“You seem cold, honey,” he pressed a knowing smile to her, a smile she knew well.

She blinked before composing herself and smiled back easily, “Thank you,” and snuggled into his jacket.

He glanced down and the stain was covered by the length of his jacket. He sighed quietly in relief.

As the conversation wrapped up, Lee turned her back towards the house, instead of continuing on their route. Y/N frowned in confusion.

“What was that about, Lee?” She asked softly.

“I don’t mean to alarm ya, darlin’,” he spoke cooly, as not to raise any anxieties, “But you started your period.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she halted, “What do you—?” She looked down at the jacket and her face contorted with embarrassment, “Oh, my god…”

Lee wrapped his arm around her, forcing her to walk, “It’s alright, baby. You can’t see it with my jacket on.”

“But what if they saw before—?” She placed her hand on her forehead, feeling herself panic. Had she been parading around with a blood stain this entire time, or was it just before Lee noticed? Thank god Lee noticed.

Lee pressed her lips to her temple and whispered in her ear, “It’s okay. Don’t worry. No one saw a thing.”

“I’m so humiliated,” she whispered back as they slowly walked home.

“Don’t be,” he kissed her temple again, “It happens. Not your fault. I promise, it’s okay.”

While his words didn’t completely rid of her yucky feelings, they helped soothe them. She nodded and held his hand. They took their time walking back as Lee talked to her about a funny thing he saw Frank do that morning before work, in hopes to distract her. He led her into the house and led her straight to the bathroom. He started the shower and continued to talk about Frank, memories he had of him that he cherished the most, that his loved his distinguished characteristics.

Y/N knew what he was doing, but it helped. She didn’t really have a moment to think of the blood stain while he talked nonstop. He talked as he got her into the shower and slowly suds up the loofah and washed her body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, “My beautiful girl.”

And everything would be okay.

Bad Day

+18 ONLY

@/kareybear asked : Could you possibly do something for Lee when he had a bad day at work and he comes home all stressed. He takes it out on his girl and makes her cry and go to bed all sad. Would he apologize🥲?

Word Count : 1.4k

Warnings : verbal abuse, alcohol consumption, explicit language, angst but also fluff

Notes : Repost from old blog

———

When Lee drove home from work, all he couldn’t think about was all the bullshit he had endured in the past 10 hours. One thing after another, nothing was working out in his favor. He couldn’t seem to catch a break. Deputies making mistakes he had to fix. There was a fight in the jail, which involved a ridiculous amount of paperwork. The stress of the upcoming election had yet to cease. All he could think about was a strong glass of whiskey to settle his nerves.

When he pulled up to his house, he saw red. His girl was standing outside by the mailbox chatting and laughing with the neighbor. The middle aged man was fit from his landscaping business and had the woman fawning over his charming smile. All the housewives wanted their garden refurbished by Lee’s neighbor. Nothing bad was ever said about the man. And right now, that only pissed him off further.

The fucker was making his girl laugh. He watched the rear view mirror in a rage as she placed a hand on his arm as they joked. Lee’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. Unable to watch anymore, he climbed out of the cruiser and slammed the door loudly behind him. This got their attention.

She whipped around and saw Lee, immediately smiling and waving at him. Lee glared as he watched her turn back to their neighbor and continue the conversation. Steam shot from his ears. The audacity this woman had. She was supposed to be waiting for him, greeting him with a kiss and hug after his long day. Instead she was fucking around the goddamn neighbor.

Seething, Lee stormed into their house and slammed the door shut, making the window panels rattle. He went straight to his stash in the kitchen and poured himself a nice helping of the amber liquid. His gulped it down, ignoring the searing burn it left in his throat. It was a satisfying feeling when it was paired with his anger.

Pouring himself another glass, he realized that the smell of dinner was absent from the room. With narrowed eyes, he scanned the counter tops, the oven and even the microwave for any sign that dinner was almost ready. With a huff, Lee opened the fridge. Nothing looked different from this morning. He growled under his breath as he shut the fridge and stalked back to the liquor. After finishing the shot, the front door opened and closed.

“Honey,” came his girl’s sweet voice, followed by her footsteps.

Y/N appeared in the doorway with a smile, “There you are. I thought you were gonna come say hi to Jay. How was work?”

Lee scoffed and muttered under his breath, “Got nothin’ to say to that fucker.” He poured himself another glass.

A frown tugged at her lips, her gaze flickering to the glass of whiskey. Shit.

“Is somethin’ wrong, honey?” Y/N tried to keep her voice light.

“Why the fuck dinner ain’t ready, huh?” He whipped his head around to glare at her.

Y/N blinked in surprise, “Um, I- I thought—“

“I bust my ass to bring money home, to make sure there’s food on the table. And you can’t even do that. Instead you’re just fuckin’ around while I work to support us,” Lee’s voice grew louder with each sentence. He took a gulp of his drink, but didn’t finish it this time. He hissed at the burn, but wished it burned more.

“Lee, did something happen?” Y/N’s voice wavered, trying not to take his words personally, “Why are you upset?”

“Because I come home after riskin’ my life to keep you and this goddamn town safe, to see you humpin’ the neighbor’s leg! And you can’t even get dinner on the fuckin’ table on time! For all the fuckin’ bullshit I have to deal with, that’s the least you could fuckin’ do!”

Tears welled in her eyes as her bottom quivered, “I made us reservations at that new restaurant in Meade. I- I thought we could get dressed up and... have a date night.”

Her voice was small, thick with emotion. Lee’s chest suddenly felt tight and he closed his eyes. The rage from work, the jealous fit and frustration after getting home, and now the humiliation on his part... it was overwhelming and his rage now directed at himself. On impulse, Lee chucked his glass against the wall, shards shattering across the titled floor.

Y/N gasped, nearly jumping out of her skin. Her eyes flashed to him. His fists at his sides were shaking, his shoulders tense as he glared at the mess he made. She didn’t realize the tears now flowed freely down her cheeks. She didn’t know what to do. So she fled to their bedroom and locked the door behind her.

Lee her footsteps and looked back, only to see that he was alone in the kitchen. His jaw clenched as he tried to blink the tears away. Don’t cry. Don’t fuckin’ cry.

He let out a shaky breath and braced his hands on the countertop. He fucked up. He let his anger get the best of him. Now, the alcohol was beginning to coarse through his veins. He really fucked up.

He smoked several cigarettes and ate couple pieces of deli meat until he had simmered his anger. He was embarrassed, if anything. Y/N had done something nice for them, for him. If he had waited and not gotten in a tizzy, their date night would have fixed his entire day. It would have made everything worth it. Instead, he ruined it with anger issues.

Lee sniffled as he nursed on a cup of coffee that was leftover in the pot from this morning. He was drunk, but the coffee was mellowing it out, along with the deli meat. He stumbled on his feet but made sure he cleaned up all of the glass, even crawling on hands and knees to make sure his girl’s delicate feet wouldn’t get cut.

It was almost their bedtime by the time Lee got the courage to confront her. Y/N heard his drunken steps down the hall before he knocked on the door.

“Y/N,” his slurred voice was muffled behind the wood. The doorknob jiggled as he attempted to open it, “Y/N, baby. Let me in.”

Y/N rolled over on their bed to look at his shadow under the small crack under the door. Her eyes and nose were puffy from crying. She nibbled on the inside of her check nervously.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he voice came again and her heart flipped.

Lee rested his head on the door, “I fucked up.” He hiccuped, “I ruined your surprise. I ruined your dinner plans. ‘Cause Im’a dick. M’sorry, baby. Please...”

Suddenly the door opened and he almost fell before catching himself on the doorframe. He frowned when he saw her pink eyes and felt another wave a guilt wash over him.

“Baby,” he breathed, immediately reaching for her.

Her bottom lip quivered as he cusped her face with both hands, taking an unsteady step forward. He had been crying too. She placed her hand over his and tried to keep herself from crying again.

“M’ so sorry,” he said again, resting his forehead against hers, “‘M so sorry. I didn’t mean it. ‘M sorry, baby.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around around him and buried her face in his chest. His arms swallowed her frame and let his tears run down his face.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said against her hair, “So sweet to me. Always my good girl. I’m so sorry.”

“Just wanted to do somethin’ for us,” Y/N whimpered against his shirt, now wrinkled.

“I know, and I ruined it. ‘M gonna make it up to you, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, feeling relief wash over her, “Let’s go to bed, okay?”

He shook his head, “I ordered pizza. You- You haven’t eaten. And I really want pizza.”

A giggle escaped her lips and pulled away from him, “That sounds good.”

“I’ll feed you in bed, okay?” His lopsided smile made her heart swell.

“In bed?” She giggled again, “You don’t care about the crumbs?”

“Hm, too drunk to care tonight,” he smiled and kissed her, tender and slow, “‘M gonna take you out. Gonna get dressed up, show off my beautiful girl. I’ll make it right.”

Y/N smiled and kissed him again, “I love you, Lee.”

“I love you, baby.”

Omg omg I hope you had a nice shift!!! Im feeling soft, so could I request reader comforting a jealous Lee (give in au). Maybe she was ogling a magazine about her favorite celebrities and it got under lees skin a little more than he’d like to admit?

Simple Jealousy

+18 ONLY

Word Count : 612

Warnings : slight angst, jealousness, fluff

Notes : I had a fun time with this one! I hope you enjoy! Much love ❤️

_______________

“What’re you readin’, girl?” Lee sat his coffee mug on the table as he sat down beside her.

She had her nose stuck between the pages of a magazine all morning. She had yet to make them breakfast because of it. His stomach growled as he waited for her to get up and start making them something to eat. He wasn’t in the mood to cook today. He wanted his pretty girl to do it for him.

“Nothin’ important,” she mused as her eyes continued to scan the page.

His eyes narrowed as he took a sip of his coffee, “You hungry?”

“Yeah. What’re you makin’?”

Lee frowned. So much for not cooking. He jutted his jaw as his eyes flashed down to the magazine in her delicate grip. The front page read ‘MOVIE MIRROR’ with a picture of Frank Sinatra and Gail Martin.

He pushed up from his seat and walked to the fridge. He opened the door and peered inside. “I don’t know… Eggs?”

“Sure,” she answered listlessly.

Lee tried not to frown. The whole time he cooked for them, she flipped through the magazine. No chatting, nothing. He wanted her attention on him. When he finished cooking her eggs, just the way she likes, he placed her plate in front of her. His eyes glanced at the magazine and saw a two page spread on the actor, director Warren Beatty.

“You like that stuff?” He couldn’t help but ask. He’d never saw her with a celebrity magazine before.

“Not really. I just think he’s pretty,” Y/N cooed as she ogled at the man’s image.

A frown creased in Lee’s features. He huffed and returned to the stove, making his food next. Once finished, he sat across from her at the table rather than next to her. She didn’t even notice. He frown deepened. He ate his eggs in silence while Y/N ignored her plate, staring at the same two pages.

“You’re food’s gettin’ cold,” Lee grumbled.

Y/N’a eyes ripped from the magazine, brows perked in realization, “Oh, sorry.”

She took a couple bites and then went back to reading. Lee’s tongue swiped over his teeth as he placed he fork down on the table a little too hard. The sound of the metal clacking against the table’s surface made Y/N’s eyes flash up to Lee’s face. Her eyes were wide, now realizing Lee was upset. Irritation radiated off of him as he glared at her.

“What?” She asked.

“You’d rather pay attention to a man who doesn’t even know you exist than me, the man who’s sitting right across from you?”

Y/N stared at him for a moment before she slowly closed the magazine and pushed it away from her. She swallowed the lump in her throat as her gaze fell downcast, “Sorry.”

Lee sighed and instantly felt guilt tug at his insides. He wiped his hand over his mouth as he shifted in his seat, “No, I’m…” The apology was stuck in the back of his throat. Instead of apologizing for what he said, he apologized for how he said it. “M’sorry for yellin’,” his tone rumbled in his chest.

Y/N pursed her lips as she slowly forked at her eggs, “Thank you for breakfast.”

“You’re welcome,” his voice now thick.

She bit her lip as she glanced at her magazine, “I think they should have a magazine spread of the sexiest Sheriffs in the country.”

Lee’s eyes flashed to her face, his brows puckered.

“You’d be number one,” a smile teased her lips.

Lee couldn’t help but chuckle, “Alright.”

“It’s true,” she pressed on, “I’d much rather read that.”

A smile spread across his face, “I’d probably read that.”

Modern Lee Bodecker! Reader Valentine’s Day date!

Valentine’s Day

+18 ONLY

Pairing : modern!Lee Bodecker x reader

Word Count : 506

Warnings : explicit language, fluff, public groping

Notes : Thank you for sending this in! I had a lot of fun with it! Much love ❤️

________________

“I’m gonna beat your ass.”

“Oh, really?” Lee smirked, “‘Cause it looks like you’re strugglin’.”

“Better save room for dinner for the words you’ll be eating,” she quipped.

Sirens rang and the game announced the winner.

“Goddamnit,” Y/N slammed the plastic gun down, “I was so close!”

Lee threw his head back with a hearty laugh, “I warned ya, darlin’. No one can beat me at shootin’.”

Y/N grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him close, “And I warned you. I’m gonna beat your ass one of these days.”

Lee gripped her chin with his fingers as he tried to bite back a smile, “Over my dead body.”

“Sheriff, food’s ready,” the bartender called out over the loud noises of the game sound effects and children laughing.

Y/N patted his chest, “After I fuel myself with sustenance, we’re playin’ again. And I’m gonna win.”

“I’m paralyzed by a combination of fear and awe,” Lee said sarcastically.

As she turned away from him and headed back to their booth, Lee slapped her ass. She smacked his hand away as she tried not to grin, “Lee, children are present.”

Lee’s hands returned to the globes of her ass, “Don’t give a shit. This is an adult arcade.”

His hands remained low on her hips as they reached their booth and sat down. Their food was steaming hot and waiting for them. They cuddled in the seat as they ate their appetizer before moving onto their meals. Once their bellies were full, Y/N leaned back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder.

“M’stuffed,” she grumbled.

Lee hummed as he kissed the crown of her head, “Still ready to beat my ass?”

She let out a deep sigh, “Yeah, I think so. Better prepare yourself.”

“Shootin’ or air hockey?”

Y/N pursed her lips, “I’m totally gonna beat your ass at air hockey.”

Lee chuckled, “Alright, let’s go. If I stay sittin’ any longer, I won’t wanna get up.”

Her hand rubbed over his belly as she batted her long lashes at him, “My sexy old man.”

“Alright,” he grumbled, sliding out of the booth, “Lemme get a beer first.”

“Get me one, too,” she stretched once she stood back up.

“There wine is half off,” he said, “Valentine’s Day special.”

“Oh, okay,” she beamed.

Lee went to the bar and added the drinks to their tab, returning with an amber bottle of beer and a clear glass of wine.

Y/N took a large gulp and smiled at him, “This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Lee smirked. He had surprised her by bringing her here to the adult arcade for a special night.

“I’m actually having fun,” she continued, “So much better than sitting at a quiet dinner and pretend that we’re boring adults.”

“We’re certainly not boring,” he agreed, leading her over to the air hockey table, “Now, prepare to lose. If I win, we’re doin’ that thing I like.”

“And if I win, we’re doin’ the thing I like,” she smirked.

“Deal.”

Even If You Don't Mean It - Part Four

Summary: Sy takes you out for the day and you find out what you really mean to him.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 9k

Warnings:

Series Warnings:

Smut including oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, dirty talking, implied masturbation (m and f), showering together, slight praise kink, anal play (f receiving), mentions of PTSD, descriptions of PTSD, mentions of war, angst, fluff.

Part Four Warnings:

Smut including fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving & discussion of male receiving), anal play (f receiving), p in v sex, playful biting, mild choking, intimate touching, showering together, dirty talk including discussions of masturbation and sex toys, discussion of somnophilia, praise kink, angst, fluff.

Authors Note:

This is the final part to the story. Thank you to everyone who has been supportive of the story, your comments and reblogs have meant so much to me and have been really encouraging.

Thanks once again to my wonderful friends and beta readers @amberangel112 and @henryobsessed . Your constant support and friendship means the world to me.

A massive thank you to @radiantheartbeat for editing you have truely lifted my writing and inspired me to be better. It has meant the world to me and I have enjoyed getting to know you through the process as well. Everyone, if you want some more great Henry content, please check out her blog here . You won’t be disappointed.

Dividers made by me.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part 3

The bed dips and you open your sleep-hazed eyes to see Sy climbing into bed. It’s still more dark than light within the room, but you can hear the birds outside and know it must be near dawn.

“Sy? What time is it?” you mumble as he reaches for you.

“Roll over,” he murmurs back. You can smell coffee on his breath and wonder how long he’s been up. “Still early,” he adds, “go back to sleep, Sugar.”

You look at him a moment, clearly seeing his face in the slowly building light. His eyes are bright without any sign of sleepiness; he must have been awake for some time.

“Roll over,” he repeats and a grin crosses his lips, “I like bein’ the big spoon.”

“Okay,” you oblige, rolling your eyes playfully, but truthfully, you like it too.

He held you like that when you went to bed last night, his arm rested under your pillow, the other cradled you firmly against him while he cupped your breast in his hand. The sound of his long, steady breaths in your ear had been better than any lullaby you had ever heard, and you had fallen asleep almost instantly. 

He holds you now that same way, keeping his whole body flush with yours; even his legs follow the same angle. The only difference now is that his arm is around your waist and his fingers are tucked between your body and the mattress. He’s effectively trapped you, which you don’t mind one bit.

“Did you sleep okay?” you ask.

Sy hums softly, he’s so close to you that the rumble in his throat reminds you of a jet engine, “Better than I have been.”

“How long have you been up?”

After a brief hesitation he admits, “A couple of hours.” 

You slip your fingers between his and the mattress as you wriggle into him, the warmth of his chest feeling cozy. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“Me too,” he says as he kisses your shoulder, “now, go back to sleep, baby.”

“I can’t, I’m awake now.”

Sy hums again. This time the sound seems to come from a deeper place and he kisses the back of your neck, just below your hairline. You sigh as his hand goes to your breast, cupping it tenderly and letting his thumb slide over your nipple. His lips follow your spine before moving across your shoulder, his hands dancing over you; his fingertips brushing your skin as gently as butterfly wings. His lips are just as soft and his whiskers are like feathers on your back.

“Sy…” you moan wistfully. 

“Shh,” he murmurs, “go back to sleep.”

You close your eyes and try to sleep but Sy won't stop touching you. You suppose he’s trying to be sweet by stroking, petting, and kissing you, but his caress is like a blowtorch, searing through your skin and delving deep into your bones. You don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose; his touch is so gentle, tender and soothing, yet it feels so seductive, sensual and full of desire. He wants you again, you know this instinctively despite his urgings for you to sleep. His hands move lower, gliding agonisingly slow over the curve of your ass. Rolling onto your stomach and nuzzling into his warmth, you widen your legs in a silent invitation. Blood rushes through your veins and your core feels maddeningly empty, sleep is the last thing you want to do right now.

“Noah…” you sigh, turning your head to kiss his chest, brushing your lips across his hard pectorals. 

His warm layer of fur tickles your nose but you like the feeling and the smell of fresh soap on his skin. Your tongue flicks teasingly over his nipple and he groans while pressing his cock into your side. He’s hard, just like you suspected, and you hide your smile of triumph. His fingers move across your back and his nails graze over your spine from nape to buttocks. You shiver with pleasure and Sy makes a noise deep in his throat as he kisses your shoulder. His hand moves over your ass again, sliding lower and lower down your leg, until he switches direction to scratch softly up the inside of your thigh. 

“Touch me, Noah,” you beg unashamedly.

At your words, he releases an approving vocal rumble that echoes in his chest as he raises his fingers to your lips, “Get ‘em wet for me, baby.”

You take him in your mouth, looking into his eyes as you do. His eyes are firmly fixed on your lips, and you recognise the carnal appetite in his gaze. You feel a jolt in your chest and you moan as your own aching hunger becomes increasingly unbearable.

“Good girl,” he says softly, “you're so good to me, baby.”

You whine, pleading pathetically around his fingers, lifting your ass higher until you're almost on your knees. He removes his dripping fingers from your mouth and you bite your lip, he growls in response and plants his lips on yours. His spit lubricated fingers part your slit, and you gasp into his kiss as he opens you to find your rapidly dampening core.

“Fuck,” he drawls into your mouth, the curse elongating with his long exhale.

Sy’s demeanour changes like the wind and his chest presses firmly onto your back, using his weight to flatten you into the mattress. His arm snakes between your shoulders and the mattress, his knees pushing your legs further apart as he settles between them.

“I don’t know if I can be gentle,” he growls into your ear, dipping another finger into you, and you moan as he turns them inside you.

“I don’t want you to be,” you say as you twist your head to capture his bottom lip between your teeth and suck provocatively on his soft flesh. 

His fingers withdraw as he springs to his knees, grabbing your hips, tilting them and nudging your thighs still further apart. His breathing is hard, each one reverberating in his throat and whistling through his nose. His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and he spreads you wide with a soft curse. You bury your head into the mattress, knowing how on display you are for him and the rush of desire you feel becomes intermingled with self consciousness. 

“Jesus,” he groans, “you look so fuckin’ gorgeous…” He runs his hand over your slit, spreading your slick all over, “Un-fucking-believable!” His touch is confident and firm, your whole body buzzing as his rough, calloused skin rubs against you.

“Sy…”

You feel his whiskers on your ass cheek, and his teeth sink playfully into your flesh. You jump with a yelp and giggle, shocked that he bit you, but you can practically feel your wetness seeping from your core. 

“Shit, Sugar—you’re so fuckin’ ready for me. ”

“Noah, please…” 

His fist hits the mattress to support his weight as he leans over you and growls in your ear, “Tell me what ya want, baby,” he slides his cock over you, teasing you, “tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

Oh shit. 

“I… I don’t know,” you stammer. Who asks these things?

“Yeah you do, baby, you told me yesterday,” Sy says eagerly, “tell me again.”

What did you say yesterday? Right now you can barely remember your name.

“What? I— I don’t remember,” you ask stupidly.

“You want me gentle at first,” he prompts, “then…”

Oh fuck. 

“Harder, rougher…” you mumble into the pillows.

“That’s my girl,” Sy says proudly. He pushes inside you with a low groan, and you lift your hips up to meet him with a short cry. “Fuck,” he breathes into your ear with a drawn out exhale, “I wanted this all night— needed to be inside you again. It took everythin’ I had not to touch ya while you slept.”

“You should have,” you say in desperation, “touch me while I’m asleep, touch me whenever you want, Noah.”

He moves his legs to the outside of yours and you press your thighs together instinctively. God, you can feel how snuggly you’re gripping him and how completely he fills you. 

“Holy shit, baby…” he slowly drags his cock out of your core, then grunts before filling you again, “I wanna wake ya up with my mouth on your cunt…” he pulls back at a painstaking pace making you whine and cry out as he brutishly buries himself deep within you, “or fill you with my cock, just like this.”

His chest presses into your back as he snakes his arm around your neck; his thick bulging muscles squeeze your cheek and you nuzzle into it. His beard scratches at your skin and his heavy breath echoes in your ear. His lips suck, his teeth nip and his tongue teases your neck and shoulders. His body rolls, his rhythm increasing in force and desire with every retreat and invasion.

“Dammit, baby. I ain’t ever gonna get enough of you. Ever!” His hand slips between your body and the mattress and his fingers glide over your folds until he feels himself disappearing into you. “God damn, baby. I can feel your pussy stretching around me. It feels so fuckin’ good.”

His teeth sink into your shoulder as the arm around your neck tightens. His muscles swell, the coarse hair of his forearm tickles your chin while his fingers sweep over your clit, drawing little circles. Your thighs involuntarily squeeze tighter together as his touch becomes more insistent, driving you mercilessly to your edge. He attends to the bite he’s marked you with, soothing it with his lips and tongue as he keeps up his brutal, primal pace.

You want to tell him how good he feels, to not stop, but your words only turn to moans in your throat. You grab hold of his arm, fingers digging into the dense, tight muscle beneath his sweltering skin. God, being under him like this— his body covering you completely, grunting and growling out his indecent desires— it's amazing. 

Even though he’s everywhere, in you and enfolding you like a blanket, you want more of him. Greedy and lustful, you reach behind your head and wrap your arm around the nape of his neck to tug him close seeking his silky lips and velvety tongue. And as if he knew you needed his kiss, his mouth is waiting to meet yours.

Your breath quickens and you break away, gasping for air as your legs quiver, your orgasm approaching at lightning speed. He holds your jaw in his hand, forcing your gaze to remain on his feverish eyes, while his commanding, emphatic voice urges you to your peak. Blazing hot euphoria tears through your body as you soar into bliss and your senses briefly leave you before Sy draws you back into your skin with his whispered words. 

“My baby,” he murmurs, “my woman. God, look at you.” 

He’s still inside of you, sinfully hard, yet unmoving. He kisses you tenderly, reverently, like he thinks you’ll break and you open your eyes to look straight into his soft— though still carnal and demanding— azure gaze. You feel so desired when he looks at you like this. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Sy says incontrovertibly, as if he heard your thought. 

You don’t know what to say, there are so many things, but you don’t know where to start. So, you kiss him. He whimpers as he returns your kiss and begins to move inside you, smooth, slow, and shallow, waiting for you to be ready to take his savage pace again.

He utters a low curse and with a grunt he pulls out, manhandling you easily onto your back. He grins as he bends your legs, curling you into a ball, lifting one onto his shoulder. He makes that familiar guttural burr in his throat as he runs a hand down your raised leg and holds your hip with the other. You gasp, amazed at how quickly and effortlessly he throws you around, but the sound makes him stop and furrow his brow.

“No good?” he asks, lowering your leg.

You lift your leg back onto his shoulder. “No! It’s good,” you say, a little shaken, though immensely aroused, “You’re just— so strong.” 

Sy chuckles while grabbing your hips and tugging you closer. You bite your lip as he tucks your other leg under his arm and leans over you. “You like that? Bein’ thrown around some?”

“Apparently I do, yeah,” you force out as your stomach tightens and your core clenches with ardent need.

“Fuck, Sugar,” Sy kisses you roughly as he slides his hand under your neck and presses his forehead against yours so hard it actually hurts. “You make me so fuckin’ horny, you know that? Hotter than hell, that’s what you are.”

You pull on his neck as well, lifting your lips to his. Your eyes briefly meet before he closes his and moves his mouth against yours. You let your eyes slide shut as well, succumbing to his kiss with total submission. His gravelly voice saws in his throat and his kisses become rougher, his tongue demanding and domineering as it pushes past your lips and into your mouth. His gentle grip on your neck becomes firm, tightening as his passion increases. You become lost in the moment, grasping Sy tight, unwilling to let him go as your passion rises to match his.

“Please fuck me, Noah?” you ask, the words spilling out before the thought even had time to fully form in your mind. You grope for his ass, pulling him closer, “Just fuck me,” you repeat, not a question this time, now you’re demanding.

“Damn, woman,” Sy snarls, grabbing at his cock and guiding himself into your core. In an instant he becomes the image of an animal, his lip curling back over his teeth revealing a wolfish grin. “You fuckin’ kill me,” he spits out, “you make me Goddamn crazy.”

His eyes slide over your curled body until he sees where you’re joined and his face tenses as he mumbles a curse. He grabs your waist to hold you still while he watches himself pumping in and out of you, your bodies slamming together with a loud clap.

“You feel so fuckin’ good… your pussy… shit, that’s so fuckin’...” He doesn’t finish his sentence because his lips are on your neck, sucking your skin deep into his mouth and he bites into the tendon, just shy of pain. He is driving you wild, feral, all coherent thought is lost as you move your body beneath him, countering him, finding your own rhythm.

“I… I’m gonna come…” Sy pants, “I can’t…” 

“Don’t stop, Noah, I want you to come,” you spur him on.

“Fuck,” he roars as he rises to his knees, his hands gipping your hips as he lifts your ass off the mattress. 

He surges forward, holding himself deep within you as his eyes roll shut and his head lulls back. He clutches your hips with desperate fingers, his huge body shuddering as he releases, grunting through bared teeth. He pulls out slightly, then slams back into you before he stills and your leg falls from his shoulder as he collapses half onto you, half onto the bed.

“You ok?” he heaves breathlessly. He attempts to roll off you, but you wrap your legs around him, still wanting to keep him close.

“Yeah,” you reply with a contented sigh.

“I uh… went a little hard there. I wasn’t sure…”

You kiss him softly to silence him. “I’m good,” you assure him, “really, really good.”

Good doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel; you’re elated, sated and feel an overwhelming sense of intimacy. And that thought doesn’t immediately make sense to you. Being together last night— making love— it was understandable that you felt vulnerably close to Sy. But what you had just done— fucking— also brought about that same surge of affection, and it seems surprisingly strange to experience it in two very different encounters. 

However, you decide not to question it. Instead you go with it, covering his cheek with your hand, not wanting this feeling to end. He grins as he grabs your wrist and kisses your palm with a groan.

“Gimme a minute, Sugar,” he says, “Jesus Christ…” his eyes shine brightly with a boyish delight, “you’re…” he laughs and shakes his head, “that was not what I was expecting at all.”

You frown, a little unsure of his meaning and feeling suddenly insecure you slide out from under him, grabbing the sheet and pulling it up to cover yourself. Perhaps the sense of intimacy you feel is one sided; maybe he isn’t feeling the same way. Shame rises within you, making you feel queasy as you try to move away from him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sy cups your cheeks, halting your retreat, and turns your head so you’re looking at him. “It’s not a bad thing, Sugar. I—” his eyes roam your face then he kisses you forcefully, no tongue, just rough lips and passion. “I’m still gettin’ used to the fact that you ain’t shy, and then…” he shrugs, “then we fuck like that. I knew it would be good, baby, but that was fuckin’ amazin’. You’re fuckin’ amazing.”

You smile a little coyly. When you’re aroused, your inhibitions fall away and you don’t tend to get embarrassed or shy, but now, in moments like these, you still do. Your cheeks heat as you try to gather the courage to say what you want to say. Then you look into Sy’s eyes and you see the earnestness in them, how he’s truly listening to you, that he wants to know what you’re feeling, and all your embarrassment melts away.

“It’s never been like this for me before,” you admit. “With you, it’s different. I feel different. I feel… safe.”

Sy’s brows pull together and he looks away, then he drops his head with a grin and looks back at you. You can see that he’s processing, trying to work out how best to say what he's thinking, and you return his smile while you wait for him to speak. His silence is different now that you can see him and you no longer feel the need to fill the empty space with chatter.

Sy kisses your forehead, then bending his elbow, rests his head on his upturned hand. He uses his free hand to pull back the sheet a little and caresses the curves of your body. You continue to wait patiently for him to speak, and eventually he does, licking his lips a few times before he begins.

“You make me feel nervous,” he confesses with a chuckle. His fingers trace the curve of your breasts almost absentmindedly. “I haven’t felt this way with a woman since I was a teenager.”

You frown, “I don’t want to make you nervous,”

“I make you nervous too,” he points out and his smirk turns cocky.

“Only when you look at me like that,” you say as your heart skips a beat.

“Do ya want me to stop?” You shake your head, you never want him to stop looking at you like that. He bites his lower lip and his face loses its mirth. “But you make me feel calm too,” he says, “I don’t know how you can make me feel both, but ya do.”

“I don’t know how it's possible either, but that's how I feel too. I guess…” you swallow, unsure if he wants to hear what you’re thinking, “I guess it’s because I want this so much. I want this to work between us.”

Sy looks at you for a few moments before saying, “I can’t see how it won’t. It already is.”

You smile and bring his head to your chest and eventually you both fall back to sleep.

You awake in the same position that you fell asleep in, Sy’s head is still on your chest with one of his hands wrapped around your breast. It makes you chuckle and he stirs, his hand squeezing before sliding down your side and tucking under your waist.

“You awake?” he asks softly.

“Yeah,” You raise your arms over your head to stretch, your breasts lifting and Sy kisses them softly. You brush your hand over his head, and close your eyes, relaxing into the feeling of his pelty hair on your palm while his plush lips and warm mouth caress your chest.

“I can’t stop touching you,” he murmurs, so quietly you barely hear him.

You smile and hum, “You don’t have to stop.”

“We gonna stay here all day?” he asks with a smirk.

“If you want to,” you say, “I didn’t plan anything for today, I wanted to wait and see what you want to do.”

Sy is quiet for a while, as he sweeps his fingers over your belly. Then he says, “I wanna take ya out.”

“Yeah?” you say, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. 

“Yeah?” he imitates your tone with a teasing grin, “I wanna take ya for a ride on my Harley. I took her out first thing yesterday and she’s workin’ fine. I know about this place where we could eat, it's got a real nice view.”

“Sure,” you say excitedly. Going for a ride on his bike was one of the very first activities he told you he wanted to do with you all those months ago. “I still don't have a helmet or anything.”

“I borrowed a helmet for ya. Just put some thick jeans on and you can wear one of my jackets ‘til I getcha one of your own.”

“You wanna buy me a jacket?”

“If you like riding with me, yeah,” Sy says, “I’ll take ya on weekend rides. Maybe when… I’m sleepin’ better, we can spend some nights out at a cabin or one of those little hotel things, you know, those houses, what are they called?”

“A Bed and Breakfast?” you guess.

“Yeah, that's it,” Sy grins.

“You don’t seem like a B & B kind of guy,” you tease.

Sy shrugs and you think he might be a little embarrassed. “Maybe not, but I thought you might like it,” he explains. “Fuck! I’m not really good at this whole datin’ and romance thing, am I?”

“No, don’t say that.” You rest a hand on his cheek, “You’re honest and you trust me enough to tell me how you feel. That’s one of the most romantic things anyone can do.” 

Sy’s brows pinch together and raise in the middle, his jaw jutting forward. He looks at you so long you begin to think you’ve said something that upset him. Then he kisses you, faintly brushing his lips over yours.

“I hope you like ridin’ with me,” he whispers.

“Why do you like it so much?”

“It clears my head. Calms me down.”

It strikes you as funny that not long ago he said something similar about you. “Then what do you need me for?” you ask with a cheeky grin.

“My bike doesn't kiss me back. I've tried…” he sighs dramatically, “but she just won’t give it up.”

You laugh, “Come on. Let's go then.”

Sy follows you into the shower, grinning as he washes, his eyes roaming shamelessly over your body, watching as you soap yourself up. He gets hard again, not fully erect, but he’s well on his way, and he doesn’t exhibit any need to hide it.

As much as you enjoy watching his eyes take you in, your mind is on other things. My woman, he had said, and it wasn’t the first time. There's a presumption that you and Sy are officially a couple, but you still haven't spoken about openly. You suppose part of the fault lies with you since you were reluctant to make promises while he was deployed, but now you need to know where this stands. He speaks as though you are his girlfriend, that must mean something, however since that flash of déjá vu last night, you want explicit confirmation about his feelings towards you.

As you finish rinsing the soap from your body, Sy speaks, “What's on your mind? I can tell you're thinkin’ hard on somethin’.”

“It's…” you want to tell him it’s nothing but you don't want to lie.

“I went too hard didn't I?” Sy interprets your evasion with a look of regret on his face, “I hurt ya.”

“No, it was good,” you assure him, “I liked it. A lot.”

“Then what is it, Sugar? What’s goin’ on?”

You nibble on your lip as his brows draw together. You can see his jaw tightening beneath his beard and he seems to stop breathing. You can barely breathe yourself as you quickly force out the words, “Sy, are we dating?”

He exhales with an amused bark, “Jesus, I thought…” You look away embarrassed as he laughs at you, but he tucks his fingers under your chin and guides your face to his, “We are well beyond dating in my mind.”

“Okay, but what does that mean?” you ask in frustration, “For God’s sake, Sy. You’re so blunt about everything, but you keep dancing around this. What do you mean?”

As quick as a snake, his arm wraps around your waist and he holds you close, his furry, muscled chest presses against your smooth, soft one, knees bending until he looks you in the eyes. 

“It means whatever you want it to mean, darlin’. If you want me to be your boyfriend, then that’s what I’ll be.”

If you want? That is hardly reassuring. You look into his eyes and though he appears earnest, his words don’t seem to match his intent. Frustration simmers within you, and you can feel your brows drawing tightly together.You know you must look furious, but you can’t help it.

“But what do you want, Sy?” you try to push away from him, but he draws your naked body closer to his and doesn’t let go. 

“I want you,” he says roughly and emphatically. His eyes scan your face and he raises his hand to your cheek as he smiles, “I’m yours, anyway you want me, Sugar. I don't want anybody else but I ain’t gonna rush ya. Not after that night I asked you…” His grin falters a little and he licks his lips, “We go at your pace. I don’t want to scare you off by puttin’ labels on us.”

“I told you I don’t scare easily, Noah,” you respond, with a small smile.

“Hmm. I think ya do get scared, you just don’t let it stop you,” he says seriously as he runs his thumb over your jaw.

“Maybe,” you concede.

Sy grins briefly then his face becomes serious and his tone descends, “Does it scare you? How serious I am about you?”

“No,” you say softly, leaning forward to place a light kiss on his lips, “because I’m right there with you.” He raises his eyebrows as you kiss him again. “I don't want anyone else either.”

Sy hums as he kisses you back with soft, relaxed lips. For a while, he lets you take the lead, squeezing you tightly as you trail your kisses down his neck. 

He turns you in his arms. His hands slide over your body and he makes that now familiar noise in his throat as he kisses your neck. You close your eyes as his lips move over you and his fingers slip between your legs.

“I’m gonna make you come again,” he growls. Making a low moan, you reach for his cock but he pulls away, “No, Sugar. Just you.”

“Why?” you ask petulantly.

“I can't explain how good you feel to me, how much I just like touchin’ ya. Especially when there were times I thought I'd never get to be with you like this. When I thought ya didn't want me.” 

He curses in your ear as his fingers part your centre. You bite your lip and whimper as blood rushes to your core, and you feel how puffy and slick you are beneath his touch. 

“Jesus,” he groans, as his thick finger slides easily into you. “Your pussy is fucking perfect.” 

His hardness presses into the cleft of your ass as he curls his finger and your thighs close around his hand. 

“I keep thinkin’ about something you said yesterday,” Sy drawls into your ear as he dips another finger into you.

“Yeah?” you ask. You mewl as he fills you, then drags his fingers slowly from your heat before easing them back inside in a sleepy rhythm.

“You said that you touched yourself while you were thinkin’ of me.” You hear the smile in his voice as he says it. You groan as embarrassment floods your face with warmth. Sy cups your cheek and brings your face to his. “Don’t do that. I can’t stop thinkin’ about it cause it’s so fuckin’ hot. I used to wonder what you’d look like, how you would do it, if you used toys.”

You bite your lip and he drags his thumb over it until you release it. He kisses you softly, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his fingers, subtly building your desire to near breaking point.

“Tell me,” he urges. “I wanna know.”

“I have a vibrator,” you admit.

Sy’s eyes roll shut as he inhales deeply and you feel his cock jerk. “That’s a good girl.” He eyes are dark and narrowed when he opens them, his voice thick with lust as he asks, “Do you fuck yourself with it?”

He really wants to know, you realise, it really does turn him on. “Sometimes, but I usually only use it on my clit.” you say breathlessly. He wants you to talk to him, but he doesn’t stop fucking you with his finger; once again he has made you feel stupid and brain dead in the best possible way.

“I wanna watch you do that. Fuck. I want you to use it while I fuck you,” he squeezes your ass, and your eyes go wide as one of his fingers brushes slowly over your ass hole. “Jesus… the things I wanna do to you…” 

His finger passes over your sensitive hole again and this time he presses softly against the tight rim while he pumps his fingers into your core. You bite back a moan as a shiver runs up your spine and all of sudden you feel yourself approaching the edge.

“Fuck, baby,” Sy practically moans, “you like that.”

Abruptly he removes his fingers and pushes you against the tiles as he drops to his knees. He lifts your leg over his back and your thigh rests on his shoulder as his tongue dips into your core. He hungrily presses his face against you, lapping and curling his tongue deep within you. There’s an urgent ferocity in his eyes as he looks up at you. God, when he looks at you like that, it’s like he wants nothing more than to crawl up inside you.

He is unrelenting as he moves to your clit, holding your body against the tiles with a firm forearm against your belly. His eyes don’t leave yours, they’re so dark with primal lust that you barely see the blue of his irises. He hums against you, shifting his arm to capture your breast in his hand, squeezing, watching how your hips buck and how you move above him as you seek your release. Your knee shakes, your clenching muscles tremble as you ride the edge of the cliff, so close to falling over. Then his finger presses rhythmically against your ass and your body surges forward nearly forcing him off of you. He determinedly clutches you tight, working you until you hit your high and your eyes slam closed as you cry out his name.

Unable to stand, you begin to sink and Sy scoops you into his arms. You’re legitimately dazed and your muscles feel as weak as a newborn foal’s. He strokes you affectionately, kissing you gently until he thinks you’ve regained enough strength to stand with him.

Although he’s holding you, you still wobble. “Lean on me, baby, put your arms around my neck,” he says, adding, “Good girl,” when you do. 

He wraps an arm around you holding you close as he turns off the shower and walks you out of the cubicle. He grabs your towel, covering your shoulders while he kisses you some more.

“I love making you come,” Sy grins. “You look so fuckin’ good… The way your voice quivers when you’re close is so fuckin’ hot. And the way you move when you come— God damn. ”

You smile shyly, your cheeks heating as he rolls his hips against you, his cock still rock hard. You lick your lips and look down, watching as he rubs against you. You reach for him and he lets your fingers slide over his length. He shivers with a curse before he grabs your wrist.

“I want to,” you say with an unintentional whine to your voice.

Sy chuckles and moves the arm he’s holding behind your back. “I know you do,” he says, “And I want you to, but I also want to take you out and at this rate we ain’t ever gonna leave.”

“When we get back, then…?” you let the unasked question hang in the air.

“When we get back,” he agrees and runs his thumb over your lips, “Will ya put me in your mouth again? Get me real close, then climb on top of me and ride me? God, I wanna see that! I wanna see ya come on me like that.”

“If that’s what you want, Noah,” you mumble softly. 

“There’s a million things I want,” he smirks, “but let’s start with that.”

A couple of hours later you’re clinging to Sy, your front pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his middle, and your thighs cradling his ass. You feel a bit like Charlie in Top Gun and even though Tom Cruise couldn’t hold a candle to Sy, the thought does make you giggle. You squeal in delight as he opens the throttle on his Harley, peeling the tires as you ride out of the military base.

It’s not the first time you’ve been on a bike; your brother has a Kawasaki, but it's the first time you’ve been on a cruiser and it's a much more comfortable ride. Though it's still fast, it takes the corners smoother and slower than when riding with your brother, and it gives you a nice opportunity to just relax in the moment.

As the distance stretches between town and the mountains you feel a weighty peace descend upon you. Just being near to Sy, feeling him breathe beneath your hands, feeling the strength of his back as you press into him, and knowing that he’s here with you, is more than enough. When the road straightens out you realise that you’re not alone in your feelings. Sy covers your hands with one of his, like he’s touching you just to confirm that you’re real and present, as though if doesn’t hold onto you, you might disappear. Although you can’t speak, you don’t feel like it’s necessary; you feel him so deeply in this moment that all you can do is melt into it, into him, and let the feeling of utter contentment seep into your bones.

For the next hour you sit with your thoughts, letting them wash over you and run wild; you fantasise about how much you desire the man in front of you, and about all of the potential the future holds with him in your life. It becomes striking how quickly your doubts seemed to have vanished.

When you arrive at your destination, you are pleasantly surprised. On the high side of the street stands a small diner with outdoor picnic tables, and across the road is a scenic overview showcasing the lush green mountains that takes your breath away.

You get off the bike on stiff and shaky legs. Wanting to stretch them out after so long without moving, you walk to the edge of the carpark and look over the vista, pulling your helmet off as you go.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Sy asks as he comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I’ve lived here for three years and I never knew this place existed,” you say a little breathlessly. 

Sy rests his chin on your shoulder, so your view is the same. “One of the guys on the team told me about it a few years ago and I’ve been coming here ever since. Sometimes me and a few of the guys who ride will come up here on the weekend. When I told them about ya, they uh…” you can hear a grin in his voice, like he’s remembering a joke or something, “they said it was a good place to bring you.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t told them anything about me,” you accuse with a smile, glad that you mean enough to him to tell his buddies about you.

“I hadn’t, but since I want you to meet them in a couple of weeks, I thought I’d better warn ‘em so they don’t have a heart attack.” You chuckle and Sy gives you a squeeze before he adds with a whisper, “I ain’t ever brought a girl to meet ‘em before.”

Turning in Sy’s embrace you put your arms around his neck. “Why not?”

Sy lowers his head rubbing his nose against yours, encouraging you to lift your chin higher. “Wasn’t ever serious before,” he says before his lips meet yours. When he pulls away, he stares at you longingly with heated eyes as he licks his lips. He opens his mouth to take a breath as if he’s going to speak, but instead he just grins, and cupping the back of your head, he guides you to his chest. You turn your head so you can rest your ear between his large pecs, and you close your eyes to listen intently to the low thumping beat of his heart, while his fingers stroke your hair.

“You hungry?” he asks, his voice resonating deep in his chest.

Sighing, you lift your head and find his gaze already waiting for you. You smile and nod. “Can we sit outside to look at the view?”

“Anythin’ you want, baby. C’mon,” Sy grins, giving your ass a gentle pat and placing his hand on your lower back to guide you into the diner. 

Only a few tables are occupied and you mentally try to match the vehicles outside to their owners. An older greying couple who are sipping coffee look like they’re travelling on the brand new BMW road bike. A younger guy who’s eating bacon and eggs seems the sort to ride the Yamaha. And another biker around Sy’s age, who sits reading the newspaper as he sips from a mug and smokes a cigarette, probably rode in on the other Harley. There are plenty of spare tables, so you don’t grab one immediately and instead walk inside the shop to order your food. Sy pays without a word, which you expected considering he told you to leave your purse at home, saying that you wouldn’t need it because it would only be a hassle on the bike.

You choose the picnic tables furthest from the building and closest to the uninterrupted view. Sy sits next to you instead of across like you would expect, perching astride the bench and drawing you between his legs, making you smile. When he says he can’t stop touching you, he really means it, unable to even eat without wanting you in his arms. You lay your head against his chest and he rests his chin on your crown and for a while you just sit and take in the view.

“Whatcha thinkin’, Sugar?”

You blink, a little caught off guard. “Nothing actually. For the first time in ages, I’m really not thinking about anything,” you shrug, “I’m just happy being here with you.”

He kisses the top of your head, “I can't tell you how good that makes me feel,” he says, “I want you to be happy. I want to be the one who makes you happy.”

“You do, Sy,” you reassure him. 

“Sugar, I–”

He’s interrupted by the friendly face of one of the wait staff placing your coffees and meals on the table. You return the teenager’s grin and detangle yourself from Sy.

“Thanks man,’ Sy tells him and the waiter barely has his back turned before he starts digging into his pancakes. 

“Hungry much?” you ask teasing.

“Starving,” Sy says around a mouthful of food, “all I had this mornin’ was coffee. I didn’t sit right with me to be digging through your kitchen lookin’ for food.”

“Well, tomorrow, feel free to help yourself to anything that's there.”

Sy slows down eating and asks slowly, “You want me to stay the night again?”

“Yeah,” you say somberly, “If you want to.”

“How long do you want me to stay?” His tone shifts, becoming stern and authoritative.

“As long as you want to,” you shrug and try to keep your voice casual, “you could stay the week if you want.”

“But what do you want?” Sy asks tersely.

You shove a fork full of waffle into your mouth, giving yourself some time to think. You know what you want, but you’re afraid it will be too much for him. He’s glaring at you, fork poised in the air as he waits for your reply. 

Fuck it, be honest.

“I want you to stay the week,” you say firmly.

Sy grins like the cat who ate the canary, “Come ‘ere,” he jerks his chin a little, before leaning in to meet you halfway. His lips taste sweet from the maple syrup and you both lick your lips when he pulls away.

You giggle a little and grab the front of his t-shirt to draw him back in for another kiss. Running your tongue over his lips you slide your hand over his thigh, your fingers skimming over his fly, and he moans into your mouth. You let him go and Sy just stares at you a moment, before blinking rapidly and shaking his head.

“God dammit, woman,” he growls under his breath. You grin wickedly as you keep eating and Sy chuckles. “You’re really are tryin’ to kill a man, ain’t ya?”

“So, you’ll stay the week?” you ask innocently.

Sy clears his throat, “Hell yeah I will. And then?”

“Then, I'll go back to work and you’ll go visit your family.”

He nods, becoming quiet while he finishes his short-stack, even the lustful glint in his eyes fades as the silence stretches between you. You believe that he has something more to say, but you follow his lead and keep eating. Eventually, he pushes away his empty plate with a satisfied groan and reaches for his coffee. You glance at him as he licks his lips and clears his throat.

“Have you given any thought about comin’ with me to meet my folks?” Sy asks. There’s a strange tone to his voice that you can’t quite place.

“I have to go back to work Sy,” you say gently, “it was tough enough getting this week off, I couldn’t ask for two.”

“I know baby, it’s just,” he pauses and takes your hand in his, “I don’t wanna leave you so soon. I wish ya could come with me for the whole week.”

“Yeah, me too” you sigh sadly.

“When will I get to meet your parents?” Sy asks eagerly.

“You really want to?”

“Yeah, I really do,” he notices your look and smiles, “What are you thinkin’, baby?”

You grin, “That you’re the first guy who actually wants to meet my father,” Sy chuckles and you continue, “You're probably the first one that isn’t scared too.”

He keeps smiling but doesn’t say anything as he takes a big gulp of his coffee. You mimic his movements, taking a few sips of the still warm brew in your mug while you think. 

Your family knows about Sy, they knew he was coming home and promised they’d leave you alone this week. Your mom had hinted that she’d like to meet him, while your Dad remained stoic about it, but your brother was adamant that he meet Sy sooner rather than later. 

Your brother's service had ended and he was home for good now, studying at the local college making the most of his tuition money. You lived about two hours away from both your parents and brother so it would only take a quick phone call to arrange for them to meet Sy.

“My parents have a Sunday lunch most weeks. I could see if my brother is free in a couple of weeks and we could have lunch together.”

“What about this Sunday?” Sy asks and you raise your eyebrows.

“I can ask,” you say and he grins. “You really do wanna meet them, don’t you?”

Sy hums and nods. He looks at your coffee and asks, “You finished?” You nod, and he sits up straight, stretching his back. “Walk with me?”

“Where?”

Sy points his chin across the road, “There’s a path down there that takes you to the proper lookout. Might be nice to have a looksee.”

Sy gets up and takes your hand, slipping his thick fingers between yours and curling them. He walks you across the road and you see the trail he’s talking about. The path is narrow but well travelled and when you approach the railing Sy comes to stand behind you, trapping you between the metal fencing and his hard body.

For a while you just stand there enjoying the view with Sy resting his chin on your shoulder. It's surprisingly quiet and even the noise of the road seems to have disappeared. 

“This is beautiful, Noah,” you say, softly. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“Thank you for comin’,” he replies, then adds with a slightly sheepish tone, “I do have a confession to make.”

“Go on,” you say, smiling.

“It wasn’t just the guy's suggestion that made me want to bring ya out here. I thought about it a few times while I was on tour,” he chuckles, “not all of those thoughts were family friendly either.”

You giggle a little, then get serious, “Why here? What's so special about this place?”

“I don’t know,” Sy says, “I thought about so many places I want to take you, dates and stuff, but this one kept comin’ back to me.” He chuffs, “Sometimes when we’d talk on the phone, I’d close my eyes and imagine us standing here like this, havin’ that same conversation,” he moves closer, pressing his whole body against yours, “I’d imagine what your face would look like when you’d speak, looking so beautiful while looking at something so beautiful.”

Sy insists that he isn’t romantic, but he truly is, it’s there in his soul, and you can feel it.

“I thought about all the things I wanted to say to you, and all the things I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me,” he continues, and you feel his eyes burning into you. “When I couldn’t sleep, I’d think about what you’d look like standing here with me and I’d think about all those things I wanted you to know.”

You turn your head towards his voice, and you were right, he is staring at you with those bright azure eyes. You concentrate on the slash of umber in his left while you swallow, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Will you tell me now?” you ask softly.

“Don’t need to, I've already said it all. I couldn’t keep it in,” he says in a low hoarse tone. He rubs his hand over the top of your arm, “You’re my everything. From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. And every moment since then, I’ve only fallen deeper.”

“How are you so sure?”

“‘Cause with you, I want things I ain’t ever wanted before,” his hand slides over your belly, “I think about things I’ve never thought before. You make me feel things I never thought I’d feel.”

“Do you ever worry that it won’t work?”

“I used to, but not anymore, not since…” Sy stops and dips his head into your neck, “not for months.” He kisses your neck softly, and his next words are a little muffled, “Sugar, we got through the hardest part. We weren’t even together when I left, but we made it work, through all of that.”

“It’ll be harder when you leave again, and—”

“Baby, I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Your brows raise in surprise. “I mean, I may get transferred, but my time in group is over, I’m getting a staff position.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, you only get about three years leading a team, then you’re promoted, or moved to staff or teaching. I had thought about droppin’ my commission and stayin’ in group— but not anymore.”

“I’m confused.”

“I'm sorry, I keep forgetting that you don’t know about these things, cause it's different than what you’re used to with your dad and brother. I’m going to be on staff, I’ll work with command, mostly on base, which should keep me stateside. I am up for promotion soon and I think I’m likely to get it despite all the shit— well, I should get it.”

“And what if they transfer you to a new base?”

“It's probable, and we can talk about that during the transfer period. But let me put it this way, baby— I want you with me, wherever I go.” His brows draw together as he looks at you, and seeing your blank focus he sighs, “You still don't get it do you?”

You shrug a little and shake your head. You think you know how he feels, but part of you still doesn’t believe how things have changed so much between you in the last 24 hours. Yesterday you were just so relieved to have him back safe and to touch him again, that you've barely thought beyond the here and now. And despite the things he’s said to you, you know that you haven't been able to fully process his words.

Sy lifts eyes and looks out over the valley, stoically thinking through what he wants to say before he speaks. Eventually he swallows hard and asks, “You know how you hear those stories where the first time a guy sees a woman he immediately thinks to himself, ‘I’m gonna marry her some day’?”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of where this is going. Sy drops his gaze to yours, his eyebrows lifting infinitesimally, and you suddenly realise what he's trying to convey. “Holy shit,” you exclaim, covering your mouth.

“Yeah,” Sy chuckles, “That’s exactly what I thought the first time you smiled at me, Sugar. Surprised the fuck outta me too.”

He keeps a small grin on his lips, but he licks them anxiously, and his eyes won’t stay on yours as he runs a hand over his short hair. He’s nervous, you realise, so you lift your hand to his cheek and smile reassuringly at him. 

Sy lets out a long breath and he forces himself to keep his eyes on yours as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a set of dog tags. “I’ve thought of about a million different ways to show ya how much you mean to me. I even went—” Sy shakes his head and his Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, “In the end… these are what I wanted to give you.”

You look at the tags as he places them in your hand and bite your lip. You know what this gesture could mean. These aren't just a token that he carried with him on tour, it's all of his personal information; his full name, social security number, blood type, and his religion. You run your thumb over the stamped letters: Syverson, Noah H., O positive, No Preference. 

“I don’t mean for you to wear ‘em or anythin’,” Sy says, “I just want you to have them. I wanted to give ya somethin’ that I had with me out there, cause… I won’t ever forget what ya did for me while I was gone.”

You look at him as you blink back tears, your throat is so tight you can barely speak, “Sy, I don’t know what to say.”

He chuckles, “Baby, you always know what to say.”

There is something you want to say, but you're afraid it’ll be too much, too fast. Sy’s eyes bore into yours, like he can see into the deepest parts of your soul, and it surprises you that you don't mind this intrusion.

“Say it,” he urges softly. His hand cupping your neck while he wraps an arm around your waist. His brows draw together and raise, his forehead wrinkles like he’s pleading with you. 

“I love you, Noah.” 

Sy curses, murmuring your name as his head drops. You think maybe you’ve fucked up, misread this whole thing, but then his mouth is on yours. His kiss is voracious, ferocious, and he crushes you so firmly against his body that you feel as though he’s trying to consume you, trying to meld the two of you together so you’ll never come apart.

Then he stops as suddenly as he started. His hands cup your cheeks again and he makes you look at him. “You really mean it don’t you? You wouldn’t say it if ya didn’t mean it, right?”

You smile and pull his head down until it rests on yours. “I love you,” you reiterate, “I wouldn’t say it if I didn't mean it.”