The Reunion

The Reunion

Summary: A long time ago the three of you could never be apart. Tonight you will be closer than ever.

Prompt: 

My mind went straight to sharing a truck and sharing a lover.

Pairing: Syverson x Reader x Walter. (No ethnic or body type description)

Words: 1.6K (for fuck sake I don’t know how, it’s utter rubbish)

Warnings: 18+, sex, double penetration, threesome sex, anal, vaginal, mentions of alcohol, a very brief mention of high school bullying, biting, unprotected sex, love triangle, slight jealousy, creampie, anal creampie, slight anal play, femDom if you blink, somewhat size kink though the reader’s body type is not mentioned, they are just two huge men.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own.

A/N: So take my migraine, a panic attack and a tendency to write trashy smut and this is what you get. Not beta’d. Sorry if it’s terrible.

The Reunion

It was always the three of you; The Bull, The Bear and their benevolent queen. Decades past since the day you first met - and still, the memory sat sharply in your heart.

Keep reading

Sinful!Henry waking you up with an orgasm.

Summary: Ever so in love with you, he can’t hold back and decides to please you even in your sleep.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (2nd person POV)

Words: 650

Warnings: 18+, RPF, smut, somnophilia, fingering, female orgasm, male erection, hinted sexual intercourse, savouring on bodily fluids, body worship, male POV, Freya’s use of poetic sex metaphors.  

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

N/A: Decided to try something different, told from a male pov while it’s still reader inserted. Not beta’d; we die with our typos like August getting hit with a hook, falling off a cliff and crashing into an explosion. Divider by @firefly-graphics 

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

Midnight Glow.

The shades of a midnight glow veiled you, slumber an unjust kiss that kept you away from my bewildered gaze. Leaning on my forearm to watch you sleep, I was in awe, but of course, forever will I be taken by your deity.  

My dear love. My definition of beauty. 

Not wishing to wake you from your sleep, I carefully reached a knuckle to brush upon your cheek - the surface of your skin so supple it felt like silk. The faintest flutter waved through your lashes, and a dark crease parted your lips though you did not wake.

"Are you dreaming?" I whispered while carefully, my hand glided below the blanket shielding your perfect body. God, your flesh simmered below my palm as if my trail left a path of blazing flames behind it. I took your left breast and gave it a light squeeze, my thumb massaging your hardening nipple, making the beat of your heart quicken, and a shudder of breath left your quivering lips.

"Are you dreaming about us?"

A part of me wanted to wake you, to sink between your parted legs and make slow love to you, but I couldn't resist the temptation of bringing you to ecstasy within the tendrils of a delirium. 

My hand continued to survey down the valley of your torso, following the warmth calling me from between your thighs. I leaned closer with my upper body, almost hovering from above while two long fingers parted your soft petals, and my thumb found the jewel hidden at your apex. I wanted to breathe in the silent moans that escaped your lips as slowly my thumb began to draw languid circles over your clit. 

The moan that cracked from your throat thrummed through my lungs, and just then, I felt dew pooling at the honeyed crease that longed for my penetration. 

"I love you," I uttered and kissed below your eyes. The pillowy pads of my digits traced the seams of your dripping slit, raking the smooth wetness on and on before entering your succulent cove.

Little wrinkles formed in your brow. You moaned even harder, your entire body writhing and coiling, spine rising from the matters with the invasion of my fingers into your heavenly cunt. It almost seemed as if you would levitate, possessed by the spirits of pleasure I provoked within you. In and out, I continued to tease your clit by my thumb and pumped in you, my cock stirring in unfulfilled desire to conquer while your hot canal milked around my fingers.     

Hanging between fantasy and consciousness, you bucked your hips into my hand and called by my name. 

"Henry..."

Enamoured, I entered you knuckles-deep, pressing into the sensitive spot that made you quake with rapture. Finally, your beautiful eyes flared open, your mouth did too as your pussy clamped around me. I could feel you spasming against my hand, the tidal convulsion of your ecstasy spurring before you fell back to pillow gasping with astonishment. 

"Good morning...?" you panted, looking at me semi-amused and semi-stunned.

Leaning in, I drank the mead of your lips and brushed my nose over yours. 

"Actually, it's the middle of the night..." I retorted with a sheepish grin and then slowly slid my fingers out and brought your elixir to my mouth. 

Your sharp fangs grazed the pillow of your bottom lip as I savoured on your taste. Impressed by my devotion, you ran your hands down my abdomen, weaving through the hair of my body. 

"Then why did you wake me?" 

"Couldn't sleep again," I shrugged and groaned as I felt your nails scratching below my navel.

"Well, it seems like someone else is up. Should I... fuck you to sleep?"

I smiled groggily and flipped onto my back, letting you climb onto my body and take the reins.

The last thing we were going to do tonight was sleep. 

omg that's the stand in by @oh-for-fic-sake !!!

Hi! I’m looking for a Henry cavill series fic where YN is the makeup artist ( I think) on the set of the Witcher and they fall in love. Random part that I remember is that YN has a dachshund😂and YN has overprotective brothers. Anyone know the fic that I’m talking about?

Hello dearest anon!

I'm sorry it's taken me a while to get around to answering but I've been checking and looking and I can't find anything although it rings a bell!

Can anyone else help anon out?

💕

Hi rabbit could you write a story where Sy and Reader are sick of their friends always being on their backs because they’re both single in their friend group. So they come up with a plan to pretend they’re dating, only this unleashes feelings on both parts. It takes reader awhile to understand why Sy is so into it. Maybe fluffy smut?

Summary: You and Sy keep getting set up with random people and you are both sick of it. You hatch a plan to say you’re dating so your friends leave you alone. Things get awkward when you fall for him, because you know, he doesn’t feel the same way.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 10.4k

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, Fake relationship, Sy is a little soft in this one, I think that’s it.

Authors Note: Thanks Anon for the ask. I played around with the fake dating trope in Tropesville, but I like the trope, so I thought I’d do a full fic for it.

This has taken me ages to write!!! I struggled to write while I was sick, but I felt better and still struggled. But, eventually I got there. Thanks to my very supportive friends and Beta readers @amberangel112 and @henryobsessed. You have been a shining light for me in this hellscape.

Edited by me. There will be errors.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Always Real?

Your eyes scan the party as quickly as you can without making it obvious. You make eye contact with Colin briefly, nodding and smiling politely as he continues to ramble. You’re going to kill Anna.

“Oh, his backswing was phenomenal,” Colin drones. “Best in the game for a time…”

Smile and nod.

Grimacing, you see Anna giggling. You stare daggers at her, and she shrugs. ‘Sorry. I tried,’ she mouths. You’ll get her back for this somehow.

Colin keeps talking about golf. You hate golf, of all the sports in all the world, it had to be the one you like least. And he’s a golf pro. You suppose you can’t be too mad at Anna, she probably didn’t know you don’t like it, the two of you don’t exactly spend a lot of time talking about sport. But still, you asked her so many times to stop trying to set you up. You’re happy being single for now. Yeah, it had been nearly a year since you had a boyfriend, but you weren’t really looking.

That’s the problem when you’re one of the only single people in your friendship group, everyone keeps trying to set you up, well mostly Anna. She does the same to Sy. She tried to hook him up with a girl tonight, but he’s already escaped her. You can see the poor girl now, she looks pretty and friendly, you wonder if Sy didn’t like her or if he rejected her on principal. You look around for him, you haven’t seen him in ages. Did he go home?

“… It was amazing, I’ll have to show you the video…”

“Yeah, maybe…”

Smile and nod.

“It’s on my phone…”

You spot Sy. He grins at you as he walks past and you jerk your head, curling your hand in a ‘come here’ gesture. He tilts his head and looks at you with a shrug and raised eyebrows. ‘Save me!’ you mime, putting your hands together pleading. It isn’t easy hiding the gesture from Colin, but you do.

Instead of coming over, Sy smirks and crosses his arms over his chest, legs shoulder width apart, a relaxed pose, as if he’s settling in for a show. The bastard is going to have fun with this. You scratch your neck with your middle finger and Sy chuckles.

Colin moves in closer, shoving his phone under your nose. He puts it so close you can’t actually see it so have to take step back. He follows taking a step closer and you grab hold of his wrist to lower the phone so you can focus.

“Hey, Sugar,” Sy says. You look at him gratefully. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“Um, I don’t know…”

“Ugh, you hate golf,” Sy says looking over your shoulder at the phone.

“Colin here is a golf pro,” you say to Sy.

Sy looks at Colin as if only just noticing him and sticks his hand out. “Oh, hey man. Sy, nice to meetcha.” Colin takes his hand, and they shake. Colin isn’t a small guy, tall, athletic build, and seems pretty strong, but Sy is, well Sy, and you can see the way his arm tenses as he shakes Colin’s hand. Sy turns his attention back to you. “So anyway, Sugar, I gotta talk to you ‘bout somethin’.” He puts his arm around your shoulder and starts leading you away, then stops and turns back to Colin. “Oh, sorry man, was I interruptin’ somethin’?”

Colin looks at you. “Ah, no,” you say. “We were just chatting. I’ll catch you later Colin. It was nice to meet you,” you call as Sy leads you away. As soon as you’re out of earshot you say to Sy, “Thanks, I owe you one.”

“You coulda just walked away,” Sy says.

“I know, but I felt a little sorry for him. It’s not his fault Anna tried to throw us together without even asking.”

Sy hums and looks over his shoulder. “He’ll live,” Sy says dismissively. He keeps his hand on your shoulder as he leads you to the party’s makeshift bar, grabbing a couple of beers and premix drinks. “Wanna hang out in my truck a while? Give Mr Sandtrap some time to get the hint you ain’t comin’ back?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem, Darlin’,” Sy grins. He leads you away from the party and around the front of the house to where the cars are all parked on the lawn. Opening the tray of his truck, he unfurls the blanket he keeps back there and helps you up, your skirt is a little tight to be climbing into trucks unaided.

You both lean against the back window and stare out into the street. Your shoulders are touching, but it’s comfortable, you’ve known Sy for years as part of your extended friendship group. You two aren’t particularly close, you don’t hang out together outside of these kinds of get togethers, but you’ve always gotten along well, even spending a few nights drunkenly talking well into the early morning.

“So, why did you ditch your ‘date’?” you ask Sy.

Sy reaches into his pocket, pulls out a Leatherman and opens your drinks while he answers. “No reason really other than I want them to get the point I’m not interested in datin’. She seemed nice. I felt kind of bad, but I’m sick of that shit.”

“Yeah, me too,” you say. “I mean, if I wanted to date I would.”

“Why dontcha?”

“Why don’t I date?” Sy nods and takes a swig of his beer. “I don’t know. I guess I’m happy being single for now. I’ll date again when I’m ready.” You take a sip your overly sweet drink and ask Sy, “What about you?”

Sy is quiet and stares at his bottle of beer. Then he looks at you, sucking on his bottom lip. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to answer when he suddenly speaks. “Last deployment I got a Dear John letter.”

“Sy, I’m sorry. That’s shitty.”

“Yeah,” he says, bitterly, drawing the word out with his drawl. “And since I’m probably gonna be deployed again in three or four months, what’s the point, ya know?”

“So, you’ll wait until you retire?”

“Yeah, this will be my last one, I think.” Sy says. “Then I’ll start datin’ again. Maybe.”

“I think that is a good reason, but some people…”

“Anna,” Sy supplies with a grin.

“Yeah, Anna,” you laugh. “Won’t leave us be. Sometimes I think I should make up some internet boyfriend from Canada or something, so she’ll leave me alone.”

Sy chuckles. “Thought has crossed my mind too. Tell her I have a girlfriend still in Iraq or somethin’. But then you’d think…” Sy pauses and looks at you, staring hard, a strange look on his face.

“What?” you ask. Sy looks at you for so long you start to get paranoid and wipe at your mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”

Shaking his head, Sy grins. “Nah, you’re good. I just had a crazy idea.”

“Oh yeah,” you laugh. “Go on, I’m up for crazy.”

“Why don’t we say we’re datin’,” Sy says nonchalantly.

You raise your eyebrows. “That is crazy.”

“Oof! That hurt,” Sy says dramatically, clutching at his heart and leaning back against the window.

“No, I didn’t mean…” you say a little flustered. “Who’d believe it?”

“Why wouldn’t they? We’ve always gotten along.”

“Yeah, but why now? We’ve known each other for ages and never done anything.”

“Maybe I finally got the balls to make a move tonight,” Sy says turning back to you. He leans closer, and you think you’re imagining it, but his voice seems to get low and rough. A ripple of heat washes over you as his flashing blue eyes seem to bore into you. “Maybe seeing that asshole move in on you made me act for once.” Sy sniffs and sits back, the intense moment passes, almost like it never happened. “They’ll buy it.”

They would buy that, you think, it makes sense in a way. You shake your head, are you really considering going along with this stupid idea?

“Ok, say they buy it. How long would we date for?”

Sy thinks a moment. “A month or so, long enough that breakin’ up will hurt and that should make ‘em leave us alone for a while.”

“Who breaks up with who?”

“Hmm, amicable break up, in case we need to date again to keep ‘em off our backs.”

Yeah, it could work. Except… “Wait, but would they believe us if they never see us even hug or kiss?”

Sy grins, wolfishly. “We hug already sometimes, so that won’t be weird. And kissin’ yeah I suppose we should sometimes.”

You give Sy a look and cross your arms.

“What? Would kissin’ me be so bad?” Sy asks.

Would it? No, probably not, you concede. He’s an attractive guy, you like him, as a friend of course. “I suppose we wouldn’t have to make out or anything.” Wait, am I really considering this?

Sy grunts. “No, but it’s got to be a convincing kiss. Ya can’t kiss me like I’m your brother, they’ll never believe that.”

“Maybe I’m not big on public displays of affection,” you argue.

“I am though,” Sy grins. “If I liked you, I’d kiss ya all the time. Wouldn’t matter where I was.”

“So, what, tongue and everything?” you ask Sy. He nods, still smirking. He’s enjoying this. “Ok. But no groping. You can’t touch my breasts or my ass.” Sy pointedly looks at your lap. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you squirm a little. “Or there. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Sy chuckles. “What about being seen together? I suppose we should actually go on a date or two. Everyone will ask about it.”

“I suppose we should,” you sigh.

“Jesus,” Sy groans.

“What?”

“Ya don’t wanna kiss me and ya don’t want to be seen with me. I thought we were friends,” Sy teases.

“It’s not that, it’s… Well effort. Dating means new clothes, doing your hair and makeup and stuff.”

“You’re wearing makeup now and your hair’s done,” Sy points out. “Ya don’t need new clothes. You look nice and I’ve seen ya wear that outfit before.” You pause, Sy noticed that you wore this outfit before. That’s weird. He must have seen the look on your face because for a moment he seems a little uncomfortable. “All I’m sayin’ is ya don’t have to go to too much effort, we already know each other, and I like the way ya look.” You raise an eyebrow. “I mean, if I were datin’ you for real and you suddenly changed how ya normally looked, it’d be weird cause I like you the way you are.”

You sip your drink a little more, the idea is growing on you. “If we’re going to do this, we need rules.”

“Sure,” Sy agrees.

“Ok. Rule one: Kissing is allowed but not groping.”

Sy nods. “Fair. Rule Two: We’ll go out Friday nights and see each other one night during the week for appearances sake.”

“We’ll take pics to prove it,” you agree. “Rule Three: No talking about the relationship to our frinds, other than superficial stuff. I don’t want you making stuff up about me or telling everyone I’m shit in bed.”

“Ok now I’m offended,” Sy says. “I’m a gentleman and would never kiss and tell.”

“Bullshit Sy!” you laugh, “We’ve all heard the story about what that girl in Vegas wanted you to do to her.”

“Hey, wait now,” Sy says smirking, tying to hold in his laughter. “That was funny, and she wasn’t my girlfriend. I never talk about my girlfriends.”

“Still, I’m making it a rule,” you say firmly.

“Fine. Rule Four: No bad mouthin’ after we break up.”

“I would never!” you protest.

“Bullshit,” Sy says. “We all know about what the ex from Boston wanted you to do to him.”

“Ok, yes,” you say giggling, embarrassed as you remember that story. “But it was very funny.”

“Yeah, it was. So, any other rules?” Sy asks.

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

“So, we’re agreed, for the next four weeks, you and I are datin’?”

“Fake dating,” you correct.

“That’s what I said,” Sy grins.

“Sure, it was. Starting now?”

“Starting now.” Sy holds up his drink and you hit it with yours.

You and Sy sit awkwardly quiet for a few moments. What are you supposed to do now? “So, how do we let them know we got together?”

“I don’t know.” He looks over his shoulder at the house. “I suppose we could go back, to the party, holdin’ hands or somethin’.”

“And gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes?” you tease and Sy chuckles. “Hmm could work, we really just need Anna to see, then everyone will know.”

“We could dance,” Sy suggests. “Then maybe kiss?”

“You really want to kiss me, don’t you?”

Sy doesn’t deny it. “It is one of the perks of havin’ a girlfriend.”

“Fake girlfriend,” you remind him and yourself, but it doesn’t stop your heart fluttering at the thought of Sy kissing you.

“That’s what I said,” Sy grins. “Finish your drink and we’ll go back.”

Sy helps you out of the truck and closes the tailgate. Still grinning, he puts his arm around you and walks you back to the party. He takes you over to wear a few people are dancing and wraps your arms around his waist. His spicey, leathery smell fills your nose, the fragrance is subtle but masculine and suits him perfectly. Still smiling he moves slowly, too slowly for the music really, but you don’t think he dances too often and is probably the best he can do. He holds you close to him, not too close but near enough that your bodies meet as you gently sway. He looks into your eyes as you move together, he’s a good actor, you can almost believe that he does want to kiss you, for real.

“You sure ya wanna do this?” he asks. He puts his hands on your cheeks as he bends his knees a little so you’re closer in height. Biting your lip you nod, and Sy sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. “I’m gonna kiss you now. That ok?”

“Umm,” you quickly scan the room looking for Anna. She’s watching the two of you intently, eyes wide, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. She’s smiling though, and she’s not the only one. There’s a few of your friends watching you, Colin too, but he’s got a scowl on his face. Maybe they will believe it, maybe this crazy idea will work. You lick your lips. “Okay,” you say softly. But as soon as you agree, your heart starts to thunder in your chest.

“You’re nervous,” Sy observes. You nod. “Don’t be, it’s just me, it’s just a kiss.” Licking his lips he waits, but you feel frozen. “Close your eyes, baby,” he murmurs. Your hands tighten, grabbing hold of his shirt, gripping it tight as you close your eyes.

Sy’s lips press gently against yours. For a moment you can’t believe he actually did it, he actually kissed you, then his lips move, softly gliding over your top lip then your bottom lip. You feel it in your knees, and if you weren’t already holding on, you think you would fall. You think Sy must have noticed because one of his hands leaves your neck and snakes around your waist and lays against your back. He draws you closer, your bodies press against each other, as he tries to deepen his kiss and his tongue flicks against your lips. You part them slightly, his arm tightens, and you swear you hear a soft hum.

This is too much, it’s enough, surely, they’ve seen enough. You pull away from Sy and you think he isn’t going to stop, but he does and you’re briefly disappointed. You’re both breathless as you open your eyes and Sy’s thumb rubs over your cheek. God, he has such beautiful eyes, the blue brilliant against the large black pupils and the darker brown part in his left one catches your attention for the first time.

“You ok?” Sy asks, his deep voice is strained as he talks.

“You’re a good kisser,” you breathe.

Sy chuckles. You feel a tension leave his body and he stands up a little straighter, but doesn’t let you go. “Want a drink?” he asks. You nod and your eyes grow wide as he kisses your forehead and says, “Why dontcha grab a seat and I’ll bring you one.”

As Sy walks away your fingers go to your lips, they’re tingling, still feeling warm from his kiss. You don’t want the feeling to fade. If that’s how he fakes a kiss, you wonder what it would feel like if he truly meant to kiss you. As if in a daze you find a pair of empty plastic chairs to sit on while you wait for Sy.

“Holy shit!” Anna comes bounding over to you. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked Sy? I would have set you two up ages ago.”

You swallow hard and try to order your thoughts. What was the line again? “I didn’t, apparently he did, and he…” you trail off, you can’t remember what you’re supposed to say.

“Oh girl,” Anna gushes. “That must have been a hell of a kiss.” She grabs your shoulder shaking you with excitement. Anyone would think she was the one who just got kissed. “What happened?”

“Uh, we sat in his truck and talked, and then he wanted to dance with me, then he kissed me.” All essentially true, except for the part that it didn’t mean anything.

“Whoa, so he kissed you, huh? Interesting…” Anna muses. You want to ask why it’s interesting, but Sy is coming back. “I’m gonna go, keep me updated!” Then she is gone.

Sy grins as he sits, bringing his chair as close to yours as possible. “Worked huh?” Sy jerks his head in Anna’s direction.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you say, still feeling a little shook up by the kiss.

Sy on the other hand, seems perfectly fine, chilled, and relaxed. You can’t seem to think of anything other than his lips. He makes a bit of small talk for a while, telling you about a book he read and all you can do is stare at him.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks eventually.

“Yeah.” You’re not though, you’re really not. You stand up. “I think I want to go home.”

“I’ll drive you,” Sy says, standing. “I’ve only had a couple of beers, I ain’t over the limit.”

“No,” you tell Sy a little too quickly. “You stay and have fun.”

“Can’t do that if ya want this dating thing to work out.”

“Fake dating,” you say automatically. Sy has a point though, but you still want to go home.

“You sure you’re ok?” Sy asks again.

You shrug, then shake your head. “I’m fine, I just…” Never expected to actually feel something when we kissed.

“It’s ok,” Sy says. “I’ll take ya home. You wanna say goodbye?”

“Can we sneak out?”

“Sure thing, Sugar.” Sy smiles and you think he going to kiss you, but instead he puts his arm around your shoulders and leads you to his truck.

You were quiet on the way home at first, but eventually Sy gets you out of your head, talking like normal and you start to think that maybe you overreacted. He’s just a good kisser, the kiss didn’t mean anything more than what it was, a stage kiss, you were acting, pretending, going along with your ruse.

When Sy pulls up at your house, he gets out with you and walks you to your door. “When do you want to see each other again?”

“I thought we said Friday night.”

“We also said midweek,” Sy reminds you. “How does Tuesday work for ya?”

“Well, it’ll be our first date so, we should do something nice.”

“I could take ya to dinner or to a movie?”

“Predictable, but I guess a movie works.”

Sy grins. “I’m not really a grand gesture kind a guy anyway.”

“Me either, I don’t like a big fuss. I always cringe when I see those proposals at a baseball game or something like that. I’d say no on principle alone.”

“Noted.” Sy sighs, “Well, I guess I’ll get.”

“Yeah,” you agree. Neither of you move, and you stand there a moment, looking at your feet. “I’m sorry I freaked out earlier.”

“’S alright,” Sy says. He takes a small step closer to you and tucks a finger under your chin, gently lifting it so you look at him. “You know you can call this off at any time, I won’t get angry or nothin’.”

“I know.”

“Ok.” Sy wraps his arms around you giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Night, Sweet Pea.”

“Sweet Pea?” You giggle at the pet name.

“Ah, you like that one huh? Ok, Sweet Pea it is.” Sy lets you go, waving as he goes back to his truck.

You’re nervous about seeing Sy again. You haven’t been able to get that kiss out of your head; you even find yourself daydreaming about it. The way he held you, the way he took control, left you breathless and confused. It’s strange that you never saw Sy as anything other than a friend, not even a close friend and now, you can’t stop thinking about him. You don’t know how you never thought about what it would be like to be with him, but since that kiss, it’s all you can think about.

Thinking back on the years you’ve known him you realise he’s always been sweet to you. Yeah, he teases you occasionally, but he’s always looked out for you, which is why you wanted him to save you from Colin rather than anyone else. You trust him, you like him, you find him attractive, and after that kiss, you realise you want him.

The realisation makes you uncomfortable. You’re not sure this whole fake dating thing is a good idea anymore. You start to think you may develop real feelings for him which will only hurt you when you realise Sy doesn’t feel the same way. Because he mustn’t feel the same, otherwise he would have just asked you out, right?

That’s it then, no more kisses. You shouldn’t have agreed to that, that was crossing a line you weren’t prepared for. You tell yourself that you will talk to Sy tonight about it. No more kissing. Everyone saw you kiss, they don’t need to see it again.

After work on Tuesday, you rush to get ready, not wanting to be late. You try on several dresses, not really satisfied with any of them. Some are too revealing, some are too dressed up and others are too casual. You decide to go for one that’s a little too casual, you don’t want Sy to think that you were trying too hard. You held back with your makeup too, less than what you wore to the party and your hair was already done from work, so you just have tidy it up.

You’re ready with plenty of time to spare, so you find yourself pacing the room. You try to calm yourself by scrolling through social media, but you keep staring at the time, willing the minutes to tick by with increasing anxiety.

The doorbell rings and before you open the door, you take the time to take calming breath. You’re ok, you remind yourself, it’s just Sy. Forget that you haven’t been able to think of anything but him for the past few days. Never mind that you’ve fantasised about more than just kissing him. Disregard all that, you’re just friends pretending to date that’s it. You won’t kiss him. Not again.

Opening the door, you forget all your pep talk as soon you see the growing smile on Sy’s face. Your stomach flips as he snakes his arm around your waist and kisses your cheek. His now familiar scent mixes with the smell of his freshly laundered t-shirt and you press your face into his neck, breathing in his wonderful fragrance.

“You look real nice, Sweet Pea,” Sy drawls sweetly in your ear.

You grin and step back, looking at the ground, avoiding eye contact so Sy won’t see in your eyes how nervous he makes you feel. You shake your head, feeling embarrassed. “Shall we go?” you deflect as you close your door.

“Sure.” Sy puts his arm around your shoulders and walks you to his truck, even opening your door for you. He waits until you’re inside before closing it. You watch him as he walks to the driver’s side and see the big grin on his face, the slight jump in his step. He’s a really good actor you think, anyone would think he’s really your boyfriend and actually looking forward to taking you out.

“So, how’s work?” Sy asks.

You hesitate before you answer. Does Sy really want to know or is he asking to avoid awkward silence while he drives. “It’s ok. How about you?”

“Good. Real good.” Sy glances at you. “How’s work really?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yeah, I do,” Sy smiles reassuringly.

“You don’t have to pretend to be interested.”

“Who says I’m pretendin’?”

“It’s nothing really. There’s been some downsizing and I have a bad feeling about it,” you admit. Sy nods but doesn’t say anything, so you keep talking. “I shouldn’t have a problem getting a new job, it’s just the stress of the interviews and stuff like that. I hate the whole process.”

“Well it ain’t happened so don’t worry ‘bout it. Focus on what you can control and accept whatcha can’t.”

“Good advice, but easier said than done.”

“I know, baby.” Sy puts his hand on your knee and gives you a gentle squeeze before he puts his hand back on the wheel. “I know.”

After a quick discussion on what movie to see, you agree on seeing a comedy. When you get to the box office to buy your tickets you realise you forgot to make a rule about who pays for your dates. Sy immediately pulls his wallet out and purchases both tickets. You scowl but don’t make a fuss until he hands you the ticket.

“You don’t have to pay for me. Even if this were a real date, I don’t expect you to pay.”

Sy shrugs. “Habit, I guess. I’m takin’ you out so I pay. ‘Sides, I like doin’ it.”

“You like wasting your money?”

“I like spendin’ time with you. This is me thankin’ you for hangin’ out.” He looks directly into your eyes, and you see sincerity there. Sy grins then asks, “Now what can I getcha to eat?”

The rest of the date goes well. The movie is good, both you and Sy laugh a lot. He keeps his hands to himself, and although you know it’s for the best, you’re a little disappointed. You try not to let it show, it is what you want after all.

After the movie, you and Sy take a couple of selfies for you to put on social media to keep up the subterfuge. Sy surprises you though when you take a photo and feel his beard on your cheek, followed by his lips.

“Sy!” you gasp and your hand flies to your cheek.

“What?” he says acting innocent. “Gotta be convincing, right?”

“Yeah. I just wasn’t ready.” Your cheek tingles and you bite your lip as you look at the picture. The picture is good, candid, Sy looks happy and the surprised expression on your face works well.

“We look good together,” Sy says peering over you. He puts his hands on your hips and leans his chin on your shoulder. “You should post that one. Send it to me too.”

“I’ll post it later.” You don’t want him to see how badly your hands are trembling because he’s so close to you. You take a step away, and Sy’s hands fall off your hips. “Should we go?”

You look at Sy and you could have sworn he looks disappointed. But it’s fleeting and he raises his head with a grin. “Let’s go, Sweet Pea.”

Both of you are a little quiet on the way home. You talk a bit about the movie, but both of you seem to have your mind on other things. You keep replaying the night in your head, the subtle looks Sy gave you, the little remarks that could be seen as flirtatious, the stolen kiss and of course, the kiss that started this mess.

When you get home, Sy walks you to your door despite you telling him not to worry. Once again you feel the awkwardness as you stand on your porch. His eyes meet yours, they’re so blue, deep, and open, you feel a little lost. Smiling shyly at Sy, you fish in your bag for your keys. You have to get inside, get away from him, before he sees through your façade.

“I had a good time with you tonight, Sugar,” Sy says lowly as he takes a small step closer to you. You bite your lip as your hand wraps around your keys, and he licks his. He seems to loom over you, he’s so big, you feel like he’s getting closer and closer. He’s just being polite, you tell yourself, stop reading too much into everything.

“I did too, Sy,” you say quickly, turning to the door and putting your key in the lock just as you notice movement from Sy. You turn back to see Sy straightening and running a hand over his short hair. He looks a little on edge, embarrassed almost, and he takes a few steps back. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” he says and gives you a smile that doesn’t seem to be genuine. “So, uh, I’ll pick you up here Friday night?”

“Yeah,” you reply as you open the door.

“Great,” Sy says, and his smile appears real again. Then he nods and steps off the porch as you go inside. You almost shut the door, when you hear him call your name.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget to send me that picture, alright?” You nod and wave. “Night Sweet Pea,” Sy waves back and you close the door.

You stand in your hallway a moment, confused. If you didn’t know better, you would think Sy had tried to kiss you, but he wouldn’t do that. Not when no one is around to see him. Would he?

The next few days pass slowly. Although you don’t speak to Sy, he messages you regularly. He’s sweet, at first thanking you for sending him the photos you took together, then asking you what you want to do on Friday. Then his messages are cutely mundane, telling you a joke he heard at work, asking you for a book recommendation, and telling you about a movie he watched that he thinks you would like.

It is frustrating because you still can’t tell if he’s interested in you. Normally, you would talk to Anna about it, but because of the fake dating, you can’t. It doesn’t help that she keeps asking you for details and you keep having to embellish the truth, while trying to remind yourself that Sy isn’t interested in you. You can’t let yourself get carried away, you can’t allow yourself to develop real feelings for him when in three weeks it will be over.

Work was also not helping your situation. Rumours of upcoming layoffs persisted throughout the week. On Thursday, three people were let go and there was talk of more to come. So, when you were called to your managers office on Friday afternoon, you knew what was going to happen.

Devastated, you bought a bottle of wine on the way home, showered, put on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt and curled up in front of the television before calling Sy.

“Hey Sweet Pea,” Sy says. His drawling voice sounds happy and upbeat, and you’re surprised by how comforting it is. You miss him. “I’m hoppin’ in the truck now.”

“You’re early,” you say softly.

“I know, I…” Sy stops. “What’s wrong?” You raise your eyebrows, you didn’t expect him to be able to sense something had happened.

“I don’t really feel like goin’ out tonight.” You take a deep shuddering breath, not wanting to cry on the phone. “I uh… I got fired today.”

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Sy says, sympathetically. He pauses, as if waiting for you to say something, but you don’t. After a few beats he says, “Do ya want me to come round and we’ll watch a movie or somethin’? Order take out, getcha mind off it?”

“You don’t have to,” you say. “This isn’t a crisis for a fake boyfriend to deal with.”

Sy doesn’t say anything for a moment. He waits for such a long time you ask if he’s still there. “Yeah, I’m here. I uh, still wanna come round though.”

“I suppose Anna will smell a rat if you didn’t come around when she finds out I got fired,” you rationalise.

“Yeah,” Sy says letting out a long sigh. “I’ll see ya soon.”

“Bye,” you say and hang up.

When Sy arrives, he greets you with a big grin and his hands are behind his back, hiding something. He wraps an arm around you and draws you in for a hug. His now familiar scent puts you at ease, as does the sensation of his soft whiskers on your cheek.

“I come bearin’ gifts,” he says a little proudly. His enthusiasm makes you chuff, and he presents you with a bag full of ice-cream. Your eyes widen, there has to be $50 worth of Ben & Jerry’s in there.

“Sy!” you say feeling a little overwhelmed. “Why did you buy so much?” You look at him shaking your head. “Thank you, but wow, it’ll take me months to eat all that.”

Sy just keeps grinning and shrugs, “Not if I help ya. ‘Sides, I wasn’t sure what flavour you liked, so I got picked a few of my favourites.”

“You could have called me and asked me.”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it?”

Forgetting that you need to keep your feelings hidden, you hug Sy and kiss his cheek. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you.” Sy hugs you back, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go. You admonish yourself and try to remember that he’s just being nice to you because you’re upset, he’d do that for anyone.

“Anytime, Baby,” Sy murmurs in your ear, his voice makes a heat bloom deep in your gut. His body is pressed tightly against yours, he feels so solid, so firm, but soft, and warm at the same time. You don’t want to let go, but you have to, you have to, or he’ll know.

Clearing your throat, you step away from Sy. “I better put these in the freezer for later.” You go to the kitchen, and he follows. “What do you want for dinner?”

“I figured it might be fun just to eat ice-cream.”

“Oh my God, should we?” you laugh. Sy nods eagerly and licks his lips. “I haven’t done that since I was a kid.”

“Pick one and we’ll get started, where are your spoons?”

You and Sy eat nearly three tubs of ice-cream before you tap out and let him finish the rest of the last one. You sit together on your couch watching your comfort movie. You think Sy would hate it, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When your movie finishes, you let him pick the next one and he surprises you by picking Princess Bride.

You glance at Sy with raised eyebrows. He narrows his eyes. “Don’t tell me ya don’t like this movie. I’ll get up and walk out the door right now.”

“No, I love this movie, it’s just that, I’m surprised you do.”

“It’s a classic. You could call it my comfort movie. I used to watch it all the damn time growin’ up. Wore out the VCR and everythin’.”

“The VCR?” you grin. “Damn, you’re old.”

“Hey c’mon now,” Sy frowns pointing his finger at you. Then he laughs putting his arms out wide, gesturing with his hands. “Come ‘ere and watch the damn movie.”

Ignoring the part of you that tells you it’s a bad idea, you let Sy enclose you in his arms and lay your head on his chest. You grab the blanket you keep over your couch and lay it over both of you before you settle in for the movie. You don’t know how far you make it before you fall asleep. The last thing you remember is the Fire Swamp and the next thing you know, Sy is stirring, and you wake up.

“Sorry,” you say a little disorientated. You sit up, rubbing at your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“’S alright,” Sy says standing up. “I woulda let ya sleep but I have to go to the bathroom.”

You tell Sy where it is and while he’s gone you fold the blanket over the couch and put away the empty ice-cream tubs and spoons. Sy meets you in the kitchen.

“I suppose I better get goin’,” Sy says.

“Yeah, I guess,” you say with a smile. You don’t want him to go. You want him to hold you all night, you imagine you’d sleep a whole lot better tonight with Sy’s heavy arms around you. “Thanks for tonight. I feel a lot better.” You laugh and add, “Other than feeling sick in the tummy from all that ice-cream.”

Sy laughs and closes the distance between you. “It was fun though.”

“Sorry I fell asleep.”

“Nah,” Sy says. “You must have needed it.”

You walk Sy to the door and he pulls you into a hug. He looks at you, catching your gaze and asks, “When can I see you again?” His voice is low and serious. If you didn’t know better, you would swear he was really asking because he wants to see you, not because of the ruse.

“You busy tomorrow night?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You hold your breath, you shouldn’t have done that. You sound too keen.

But Sy just smiles. “I am now. What do ya want to do?”

“You could come over again and hang out. Maybe eat some more ice-cream, watch some more movies?” You shrug and Sy hums.

“As you wish, Baby.” Sy says and your breath catches. Was he quoting the movie on purpose? He must have seen the confusion on your face because then he winks at you. You burst out laughing because he can’t wink properly, it just looks like an exaggerated blink. He chuckles too and holds you tighter, kissing your forehead before he says goodbye.

You and Sy fall into a routine for the next three weeks. On Tuesday’s he comes to your house, or you go to his house. You met Aika, sweet thing that she is, although she did get a little jealous when you took her spot on the couch. You eat real food but always split a tub of ice-cream for dessert together. Then you watch a movie or two, snuggling together on the couch.

On Friday’s you go on a proper date, dinner & a movie or bowling, and Saturday night you usually go out with friends. You don’t kiss again like you did that first night, but Sy kisses you often, on your cheek, or forehead. Saturdays are the most difficult for you. Because you’re with friends, Sy is particularly handsy, always with an arm possessively around you, either your waist or shoulders and he kisses you frequently.

Being with Sy is so comfortable now, you often forget that it’s make believe. But you are quick to remind yourself it’s not real, remind yourself not to get too attached, all too soon this thing between you and Sy will be over. At least you won’t have to pretend to be upset about the breakup. You wish you had the guts to tell Sy how you feel, but you know Sy now, you know how direct he can be. If he wanted more, wanted to date you for real, you are sure he would tell you. Despite trying desperately to hide it, you couldn’t have kept how you feel from him all these weeks. He must know.

It's not just that you feel more comfortable around Sy now, it’s also that you appreciate him being around. He was amazing while you were looking for a new job. He proofread your resume, suggested some tips for cover letters, and gave you the confidence to apply for jobs you never would have thought you’d be qualified for. He even ran you through interview questions. He didn’t have to do that. You would miss his friendship more than anything. Even if you never made the step from friends to something more, you would be happy just having him in your life.

When the day comes for your final date, you are heartbroken. You and Sy had already sorted out the plan for Friday night; he will take you out, snap some more pics for social media, then finalise the story for your breakup. But it doesn’t work out that way. Sy calls you early Friday morning on his way to work.

“Hey Sweet Pea,” Sy says. You can tell something is off by the tone of his voice.

“You ok Sy?”

“Yeah, Baby. I wanted to wish you luck with your interview.”

You bite your lip, feeling a little gooey inside that he remembered. He’s remembered every interview you’ve had, but he usually just sends you a text. “Thanks, Sy.”

“I know you’ll do great, Sweet Pea.” Sy is quiet for a bit, and when he does talk, he sounds a little hesitant, he hasn’t been like this since that night you watched Princess Bride together. “I was thinkin’ maybe I could come to your place tonight, instead of goin’ out.”

“Yeah, sure.” You smile even as you feel a lump form in your throat. You and Sy really are homebodies, you could be so good together if only he liked you as more than a friend. “That’d be nice.”

“Good,” Sy says, but his voice sounds rougher than usual. “That’s good. I’ll see you tonight then, Sugar.”

“You sure you’re ok, Sy?”

“Yeah, Baby. I… never mind, I’m good. Lookin’ forward to seein’ you that’s all.”

“Me too,” you say, smiling for real despite the tears welling in your eyes. You don’t know how you’re going to get through the night without crying.

“Yeah?” Sy asks. It’s odd that he’d need that reassurance.

“Yeah, of course.”

“That’s good. I’ll get goin’ then. See ya later and good luck.”

You hang up, still a little worried about Sy, he doesn’t seem himself. You almost call him back, but you think maybe something is going on that he doesn’t want to share with you. You aren’t his girlfriend, he’s under no obligation to tell you anything that’s happening in his personal life. The thought that he’s worried about something and not telling you does sting though. You may not be dating, but you had thought the two of you were closer now. You had hoped he at least saw you as a friend. You try and push Sy out of your mind, but he just won’t budge. You can’t talk to him now anyway, he will be at work soon and you have no time to dwell on it, you have another interview to get ready for.

That afternoon you can barely sit still. You try a million things to keep calm. You watch tv, read a book, go for a walk, you even pick up the knitting project you had put away in frustration a few weeks ago. Nothing works. You pour a glass of wine and that helps a little, but your leg still bounces with impatience and your mind won’t slow down.

This is it; this will be the last time you two have an excuse to be together. After this, Sy won’t call you, he won’t come over, he won’t hold you and kiss your cheek. Tears come unbidden and without warning, you aren’t even crying really, they just roll down your cheeks. You can’t be crying when Sy arrives, he can’t see you like this. You wash your face and with it comes your make up. You think about reapplying, but what’s the point? You don’t need to impress Sy anymore. You don’t even bother changing out of the skirt and shirt you wore to your interview.

When Sy finally arrives, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, you can deal with this. You’ll take the heartache and cry when he’s gone, maybe even finish that bottle of wine. Readying your smile, you open the door.

“Hey Sy,” you say in a voice that’s much stronger than you thought it would be.

Sy looks at you strangely, his eyes are dark, his brows are drawn low, and his breath is heavy. Something is wrong, you knew it.

“Sy, what…”

Walking through the door without dropping his gaze, he advances on you, closing the door without looking. You take a step back, why is he looking at you like that?

“Sy are you…”

With a speed you aren’t ready for, you find yourself pressed against Sy, one arm holds you firmly around your waist, the other cups your neck. You gasp, he hasn’t held you like this since that first night.

“Shh,” Sy says, his voice is gravelly, hoarse, like he’s out of breath. “I need to say somethin’, Baby. I need to know…” His eyes roam your face, taking in everything, like he’s searching for answers while you stare at him speechless and confused. “Ah fuck it.”

Sy’s lips meet yours with a crushing force. For a moment you’re too stunned to move. Your mind is reeling. This can’t be real, he’s kissing you like he wants to kiss you. Tentatively, you put your hands on his shoulders, God, they’re so firm, and slide them up to his neck. He moans softly, his hips press against you, and when you kiss him back, you begin to believe this is really happening.

But it’s over too quickly, Sy pulls back and looks ashamed. The tears you held back threaten to flow again. You knew it was too good to be true, Sy made a mistake is all.

“I shouldnta done that. It ain’t fair, I know…” Sy says as he lets you go. He looks at you with hopelessness in his eyes and sighs. “I know we don’t feel the same way about each other.”

“Sy,” you whisper because your voice won’t come out any louder. You feel like you’re drowning, like you can’t get enough air to fill your lungs, your breath is too shallow.

“Fuck,” Sy says, putting an arm out to you, then pulling back quickly. “Look, that never happened, ok? I’m sorry I did that.” He shakes his head and you reach for him, but he steps back. “I’ll just go, ok?”

“You don’t have to,” you say softly. Fuck, this was going worse than you thought it would. “We’ll forget that happened.”

“Baby, I can’t,” Sy says. “I can’t, I…” His jaw tightens and he looks down the hall.

“We don’t have to kiss.” Summoning every bit of your courage, you put your hand to his bearded cheek and turn his face back to yours. “We can just be friends.”

“I can’t...” Sy’s face looks like he’s in pain. You wish you knew how to help him. His hand covers yours and he turns his head and kisses your palm with such tenderness it takes your breath away. Then he lowers your joined hands and sighs. “It ain’t enough for me.”

What’s not enough? Wait, does he? And he thinks you don’t? How could he be so blind? How could you both be so blind?

“I want more,” Sy says. He puts on a fake smile, and you feel sick in the stomach. You need to tell him, you need to or he’ll walk out that door thinking you don’t feel the same way he does. “I know you don’t feel the same, and that’s ok…”

You wrap your arms around Sy’s neck and kiss him firmly. You pull back and see the confused look on his face. Smiling, you kiss him again, softer this time and when you pull again, Sy is smiling too.

“I want more too, Sy.”

“You do?” Sy chuffs, expelling his breath with a chuckle. He leans his head against yours, foreheads and noses touching. “Ya coulda fooled me. You shut me down at every turn.”

“I didn’t know.”

“It don’t matter now,” Sy says. His hand goes to your neck and his thumb traces your jaw. “I wanna kiss ya some more.”

You close your eyes, and you feel Sy’s soft lips on yours. His mouth is open and you part yours too, matching his kisses with your own. His tongue teases your lips, and you open wider for him. He moans as your tongue meets his with a playful flick and he hold you tighter.

Sy overtakes your senses, all you hear are his moans and the sounds of your kisses, all you can feel is his lips and his wandering hands.

“You smell really good,” you murmur.

“Fuck, baby, you smell amazing,” Sy nuzzles into your neck, his beard scratching at your skin as he breaths deeply. “Christ,” he groans, before he lays big, wet kisses on you, sucking on you, his teeth nipping softly. Your hands tighten around his brawny arms before you slip them under his shirt.

Sy steps back, reaching behind his head and pulling his shirt off before dropping it to the floor. Your eyes widen as his wide chest is revealed, and you close the distance between you. You look at him while you run your hands over his taut belly, your fingers tracing the soft outline of his muscles. Leaning in you kiss him gently, the soft brown hair on his chest tickles your lips, and you smile as his fingers slip into your hair.

Then Sy takes your hand, “C’mon,” he says. “Unless ya wanna keep makin’ out in the hallway.” Shaking your head, you giggle a little and he leads you to the couch.

Biting your lip and deciding to continue being a little bold, you pull him in a different direction. “My bedroom is this way,” you whisper shyly.

Sy’s eyes widen a moment, then he makes a noise in the back of his throat, and he grins. “Lead the way,” he says.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take Sy to your room. You don’t know what to do when you get there so you stand awkwardly looking at your feet. Sy sits on the edge of the bed to take his boots off, and you feel his eyes on you.

“Come ‘ere, Sweet Pea,” he says and you can hear the eagerness in his voice. It makes you smile, and you glance at him. You can’t believe it he’s here, on your bed, shirtless, beckoning you and grinning as you take the few steps to him.

Sy puts his hands on your hips and brings you between his legs. He hums while he runs his hands over your sides, feeling your every curve. He doesn’t stop smiling. You nibble on your bottom lip as he looks up at you and your eyes meet.

“You’re nervous,” he observes. You remember how he said the same thing the first night you kissed, and you nod. “You’re ok, Baby, I’ve got you. We’re gonna do as little or as much as you want, ok?”

“What do you want, Sy?”

“Me?” he chuckles. “Me, I could just kiss ya forever.” He lifts your shirt just a little, revealing the tiniest bit of your belly and he kisses you there. “I wanna kiss ya everywhere.”

Sy lifts your shirt higher, watching your eyes, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t, you lift your arms above your head, giving him your silent consent to take your shirt off. You reach behind your back and undo your bra as Sy trails his kisses higher, his beard a pleasing juxtaposition to his soft lips. He grins as your bra falls away and his hands cover your breasts, his fingers gently kneading as his lips enclose your tightened bud. Your head lulls as you let a weak moan escape your lips. Sy looks at you as he swaps sides, sucking softly, his eyes are dark, lust filled as his arms wrap around you.

With a playful growl, Sy spins you around and throws you on your bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, crawling up your body with the look of a predator who found wounded prey. His mouth is on your breasts again, climbing higher until his hot breath is on your ear. His hands move over your body, touching you everywhere he can, squeezing, caressing, his short nails gently scraping down your bare thighs.

Your body surges, tingling with excitement as your fingers dig into his back. Sy grinds against you and you feel the rigid length of his cock straining against his pants as his fingers dance over the skin just above your skirt.

Sy’s kisses move down your body, over your breast, over your belly, his teeth scrape over your hip bone. You watch him over your heaving chest and his eyes meet yours as he raises your skirt up your thighs. He kisses your thighs, his beard scratching you softly while his warm tongue laps at your skin. You start to tremble, nerves and anticipation combining to release a rush of adrenaline, and your panting increases.

“Will ya open your legs for me, Baby?” Sy asks, his gravelly voice only heightens your lust.

Reminding yourself to breathe, you tentatively bend your knees and open your legs. Sy’s hands feel rough as they slide down the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His thumbs trace the edges of your panties as your legs hit the mattress. Your body is throbbing, burning with need as Sy curses under his breath.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, roughly.

“I want you, Sy,” you murmur.

“Not good enough, Sweet Pea.” Sy’s chest is heaving almost as fast as yours. “Tell me how you want me, where you want me.”

Swallowing hard, you search for the courage you had earlier. “I… I want your mouth on me,” you stammer.

Sy smirks, but its not mocking, its shameless in his desire, dirty even, and so damn hot. “Tell me where.” You can’t say the words, you try, but you can’t. “Show me then,” he urges as he takes your hand and puts it behind his head. His eyes are hooded, dark, trapping your gaze, as you guide him towards your throbbing core. At the last moment he closes his eyes, and you feel the heat of his mouth on your mound through the thin cotton of your panties.

You both groan and your head falls back onto the mattress. Already wet and needy, your core tightens as it’s emptiness has become unbearable. Sy’s arms wrap around your thighs as he presses his tongue against your panties, and you feel them getting wetter as they stick to your lips and folds. Then he sucks on them pulling you and your panties into his mouth and your back arches as your muscles begin to tighten and shake.

It feels so good, but you want more, need more. “Take them off,” you tell Sy, the urgency in your voice makes his eyes flash with hunger and he instantly grips your panties in his hand, roughly pulling them down your legs. He pushes your thighs apart again then stops, his gaze firmly on your wide-open pussy.

In a moment of panic, you try and close your legs, but his hands hold you firmly open. He growls, his voice is guttural, coming from a place deep within him. Then you feel him, his tongue is rough against your engorged skin, lips soft as he sucks, his beard while coarse, feels surprisingly good, its texture only heightening the overwhelming sensations.

You lean on your elbows to see him, your bunched up skirt blocks your view. His eyes are on you, and you gasp as you see the erotic display. His mouth is covering you, his bearded cheeks hollowing as he works his mouth. He hums and you gasp, you’re so close, you nod frantically at him, silently begging him not to stop. His hand reaches for yours and you lace your fingers between his as you sink to the bed again.

Muscles tightening, core quivering, you feel waves of heat start to wash over your climax overtakes you. You cry out his name over and over as your hips roll, grinding against him, desperate and needy. As your orgasm recedes, Sy doesn’t stop, he groans as he draws it out for as long as he can, until you have to push him away.

“Fuck,” you barely whisper, you’re too breathless.

Sy grins smugly. “Good, huh?”

Any other time, any other man, you’d want to smack that smile off his face, but after how he made you feel, you figure he deserves to be a little proud. You nod stupidly, still too euphoric to speak.

Sy pulls your skirt off then lays behind you, rolling you on your side and lifting your leg over his. Sliding his cock over your wet folds he growls in your ear, “I want you bad, Baby. You want me too?”

“Yes,” you mumble. The feeling of the silky head of his cock against your sensitive skin already starts your climb to another peak.

Taking your hand Sy guides you to his cock, you feel him shudder as you touch him. “Put me inside you.”

You moan at his words, but you waste no time and take him into your aching core. You both sigh with relief as he fills you, your soft walls yield to him, holding him tight. He feels so good, he fits so well, you almost don’t want him to move. He closes your legs, and you hear his ragged breath in your ear as he puts his arm over you. He puts his hand on your cheek, turning your face to his.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Sy says, almost to himself and then his lips are on yours. His kiss is firm, his tongue demanding entry immediately and you don’t deny him. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, reminding you of the pleasure he gave you before he took for himself. He moves, lazily retreating before pushing in with force. He builds slowly, consistently, he groans and grunts into your mouth until he has to pull away, panting, but his eyes stay on your face.

Your body starts to tighten, the pressure builds inside you, and you rock your hips, meeting his every thrust with your own. Gripping the sheets in one hand and Sy’s forearm in the other, you start to moan as you feel yourself pulse around his cock.

Sy jaw is tight as he takes heavy breaths through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna come aintcha?” he puffs out.

“Yeah,” you nod, barely making the word come out as a moan overtakes you and your body shakes with white hot ripples of pleasure. Just before your eyes close you see Sy grin.

“Fuck yeah,” Sy growls, fucking you through your orgasm, harder and faster than before.

As your orgasm fades, you feel Sy’s lips on your back and shoulders as he kisses you down from your high. His rhythm has slowed to a languid speed, long and almost gentle.

“God damn, baby,” Sy mumbles into your mouth between kisses. “Why didn’t we do this sooner? You’re fuckin’ amazin’. You feel so God damn good.”

“I don’t know.” You chuckle faintly. You can’t help it, you feel so blissful.

Sy rolls you on your back and lays over you, his body hovering above you and he rests his weight on one hand while he slides his cock over you. His eyes close as he enters you, humming deeply, his lip curling into a snarl.

“Fuck your pussy is so fuckin’ warm.”

Sy slips his hand under your head and draws you close. You wrap your arms under his, holding onto his thick, corded shoulders and lean into his neck. He doesn’t build up this time, he fucks you hard straight away, your bodies smacking against each other with each thrust.

Sy moves so his head rests on yours. “I wanna look atcha,” he pants. His breathing gets harder, sweat breaks on his forehead. He tries to wipe it off, but you don’t let him, you don’t want to let him go. His movements quicken and then become erratic. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah.” You hold him tighter, and he pushes his head against you so hard it almost hurts. “I want you to.”

“Fuck,” Sy groans. He kisses you, he doesn’t move his lips, he just hold them against yours as he throat rumbles. You feel him thicken inside you and he holds himself deep within you, until his orgasm wanes.

Chuckling throatily Sy kisses the top of your head. “I can’t believe we almost didn’t do this,” he says. “I can’t believe I almost letcha go.”

“But you didn’t,” you say smiling back at him. “And now, we’re together. For real now, right?” you ask.

“Baby, it was always real for me.”

Talk about worth the wait 😥😥😥😥😥😥😥😥😥 JUST ABSOLUTELY AMAZING RABBIT 💙💙💯💯💯 cant even begin to put into words how awesome this is.

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.

The Poker Game

Summary: Now engaged to Humphrey, you’re living a life of luxury, so when your darling fiance invites some friends from work over for a game of poker and he promptly looses, there’s only one bargaining chip left… you. Sequel to Beast and The Beauty

Pairing: Gangbang x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Characters/Fandoms: Humphrey (Stardust), Captain ‘Lucas’ Syverson (Sand Castle), August Walker (Mission Impossible Fallout), Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Wordcount: 3834

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Reverse Harem, Gangbang, Group Sex, Unprotected Sex, Risky Creampies, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Triple Penetration, Oral Sex, Creampies, Sloppy Seconds, Dubious Consent, Breeding, Breeding Party, Degrading Names/Talk, Reader used as a fuck toy/object, Cumdump, Cuckolding, Knife Play, Public Nudity, Airplay, Choking, Alcohol, Impaired consent, creampies in every hole possible, more than one dick in a single hole, cum eating. Do Not Do This In Real Life. This story was 100% inspired by a video on pornhub. If you don’t know what any of the above warnings mean, feel free to message me privately so i can explain.

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. Henry Cavill Masterlist

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