keanureevesisbae

[keanureevesisbae]

Yesterday a guy who was about 23 years old flirted with me and today I turned 26…

I feel like a cougar who just met her toyboy lol

[keanureevesisbae]

For someone who doesn’t want kids, I sure as hell have read a lot of breeding kink fics online and novels about it lol

[keanureevesisbae]

Same

[keanureevesisbae]

matthew gray gubler in newness

[keanureevesisbae]

Spencer Reid's hands + books

[keanureevesisbae]

uhhhhhhhhh there isn't any more of this fic??????? 😭😭😭😭

Part 26

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 25 🍂 Part 27

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Pregnancy things, some tension, some fluff...

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: After a short hiatus of *checks notes* nearly 2 months, HERE WE ARE AGAIN! I wasn't in the mood to write this for such a long time, but now... apparently I am. (Maybe it has something to do with @keanureevesisbae's unexpected return to Tumblr with a Spencer Reid fic I'm dying to find out more about...)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @beck07990 @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @livisss @sofiebstar @keanureevesisbae

“I’ve changed my mind,” you growled. Hugging toilet bowls had never been a hobby, and you were doing it a lot more now than ever before. You had tried to send Sy away exactly once, and failed miserably. Now, he was sitting behind you, holding your hair back while you still tried to hide what you were doing from his sight. You were going to have to become a lot more comfortable with a lot of things over the next few months…

“I wish I could do anything to help, Sugar,” Sy sighed. You could tell he felt powerless and useless. Sidelined. But as far as you were concerned, he wasn’t on the sidelines for this one. He was smack in the middle of all of it. In fact…

“This is your fault,” you snarled as you let your head hang. The echo inside the toilet made it sound extremely melodramatic, but who gave a damn? You had been throwing up almost non-stop for what felt like ages. In reality, it had been two weeks – and you hadn’t been throwing up non-stop, it just felt like it sometimes. Nevertheless, it had been two long, excruciating weeks that had made you really grateful for every day of your life you had spent… God, how to put it... Non-nauseated and happy?

“How is this my fault?” Oh no, poor man. You had definitely been taking out some extra frustration on him - which he didn’t deserve at all, by the way. He was nothing short of an absolutely ideal boyfriend.

“You knocked me up,” you said, pouting at him. A smirk took over his face. You knew that look.

“I did, didn’t I?” Good God. It had taken both of you a few days – and the confirmation by your doctor that you were really pregnant – to get used to the idea a bit, but ever since the news had settled in… The easiest way of putting it would be that Sy was just very proud of himself. And of you, that went without saying, but there was definitely a new level of swagger and attitude surrounding him in everything he did.

He took every bit as much care of you as before – which you occasionally struggled with, still – and now that you were working on a whole new human, he had doubled down on those efforts. And let’s be real; you deserved it. You were building a baby, dammit. At night, his hand had permanently relocated to your stomach. It was a good thing; over the past week or so your boobs had really been giving you hell. You had yet to break the news to Sy that there was a significant chance that particular playground would remain closed for the foreseeable future… He wasn’t going to like that, you were pretty sure of it.

The sound of running water was unexpected, but not nearly enough to actually make you look up. It was the nudge against your shoulder that finally did that, and you saw Sy holding out a glass of water for you. Rinsing wasn’t enough to get the taste out of your mouth, but it sure as hell wasn’t for lack of trying.

“You should drink some,” Sy pointed out. He was right, of course. “Can you get up?” He helped you off the floor and into the shower before announcing that he was going downstairs to make you a cup of tea. You sighed – what else could you do? – not because you didn’t appreciate the gesture, or even because you didn’t want the tea. Peppermint tea usually helped with the nausea, so that was a definite bonus. You were just sad that Sy’s arms wouldn’t be around you anymore, and also sad you couldn’t have coffee.

He returned a little while later. You hadn’t even gotten around to washing your hair yet. Instead, you’d just been standing around, warming up…  

“Do you mind if I join you?” Sy asked. He was already naked in front of you, what the hell did he expect you to say other than ‘ehm, hell yeah!’ Although the flat little hum you let out lacked his preferred enthusiasm, you were definitely still thinking it? Did that count? You decided it counted. Sy seemed to be of a slightly different opinion, raising an eyebrow at you as if to ask you a question. You knew which one, and of course you still loved him.

“Please come here and hug me?” You said, stretching your arms out to him. Sy stepped into the shower with you and held you for all of two seconds before he started kissing you. At first, you tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Sy! I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you said. It didn’t look like this man was going to take no for an answer.

“I’ll happily kiss you anywhere else, Sugar.” He lifted you as if you weighed nothing and kissed your neck. He had shown you time and time again that he could throw you around like it didn’t mean a thing, and you were always really happy about it.

“Sy, not today.” He put you down with a grunt of frustration. You’d been turning him down consistently for weeks now – even before the engagement/birthday party, there had been some time with plenty of reasons not to. Some hadn’t changed – tired, pain, not feeling well – some were new – baby, hormones. It’s not like you wanted to say no, it’s just that you were tired and feeling sick, and it was a hassle.

“Do you even remember how we got in this situation, Sugar?” Sy said through gritted teeth. His irritation rubbed you the wrong way. Yes, you did. As a matter of fact, the memories of your previously very active sex life haunted you in your unusually vivid dreams – and even those weren’t enough to get you to wake up in the mood for sex. And the fact that Sy was pushing for it, really didn’t help. “Sugar, I honest to God just miss you. But it’s fine. Just give me five minutes and I’ll come to bed.” Oh. It was nice to know that he wasn’t just asking because he wanted to get laid, that really helped settle the irritation that had started burning inside you. You got out of the shower and got ready for bed, already thinking about the peppermint tea that was waiting for you on your nightstand, and hoping vigorously that it would help settle the nausea as it always did.

You thought about what Sy said in the shower while you carefully sipped the hot beverage. He missed you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him, but why did it have to be that? Your thoughts were interrupted by the sounds emerging from the shower. You’d heard them plenty of times before, yet it somehow still felt like a massive violation of his privacy. He’d disagree; it was routine for him, he wouldn’t even stop when you walked into the bathroom before he was done. In fact, you suspected he liked that you took little peeks at him in the mirror, too shy to actually turn around and watch him – and you were pretty sure that if you did turn around to watch him, he’d love that, too.

Your thoughts went back to the issue of his intimacy cravings when the water shut off. He still had to take care of his beard – probably the one thing about his appearance he was a little vain about – which gave you a little time to think things over. There was no doubt in your mind – or anyone else’s – that Sy was a very physical guy when it came to loving you, and not always the best with words. He basically worshipped you, always taking care of you, always wanting to touch you… Why did you treat that like such a bad thing when it wasn’t? The things he did for you… You never got the idea that he was doing them just to get laid. In fact, you never got the idea he wanted anything in return. What if your big guy just wanted to love his woman the best way he knew how?

[keanureevesisbae]

the squeal i squeaked

Part 25

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 24 🍂 Part 26

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: I secretly hate having to fucking spoil this here Mentions of pregnancy, angst, fluff...

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: Well, well, well... I managed to drag this out for over 40k words. I'm proud of myself. @keanureevesisbae, are you proud of me too? (And are you finally happy, now that the whole buikgriep thing is over? XD)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @beck07990 @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @livisss @sofiebstar

You had done the math thirteen times in the shower. Then twice when you got out, then six more times while you waited the exact amount of time recommended by the not-to-be-missed blue numbers on the box you had hoped to keep stashed in the back of the bottom shelf of your medicine cabinet for at least another year. Maybe two. Or three. Or more. Now, tears were streaming down your face while you looked at the two life-changing pink lines. You had no idea how long you had been sitting there when you heard footsteps in the hall. They were way too light to belong to Pat, and they definitely weren’t Sy’s, so it had to be Jules. It honestly could have been a satanic easter bunny with a chainsaw; you wouldn’t have moved either way.

“Lara, we’re going h-” Jules shut her mouth mid-sentence and rushed over to you as soon as she saw you sitting on your bed. “What’s going on? Can you hear me?” She sounded really scared. There was nothing you could do other than hum softly at her question, all other functions of your body seemed to have been turned off. It was only a matter of time before she looked down at what you were holding in your hands.

“Oh.” That was all she said for a while, but when you still didn’t reply, she continued: “I don’t know what to say. If you’re happy, I’m happy for you. It’s just that you don’t look happy.” Probably because you weren’t feeling very happy, and though you were mostly shocked and definitely more than a little bit freaked out, you weren’t unhappy, either.

“I don’t know, Jules,” you said, now entirely unable to stop your crying. How was this even possible? You didn’t remember throwing up anywhere in the past weeks, there were no unexplained pills left in your strip, or the last one. No antibiotics, nothing. Of course, a one percent chance was still a chance… The footsteps on the stairs were clearly Sy’s – you’d recognize them from a mile away. Normally, the sound comforted you, because… Well, because it was Sy. That was plenty. Now, it just threatened to send you into hysterics.

“Lara, listen to me,” Jules said, “I’m going to leave. You two are gonna talk. It’s going to be fine. I promise.” You just hoped she was able to gauge Sy’s reaction better than you were, because your brain was cooking up doom scenario’s left and right.

“Talk about what?” Sy said as he opened the door. Jules didn’t leave in a gigantic hurry. You appreciated that, it calmed you down somewhat. It gave you some time to take a few deep breaths while she said goodnight to Sy before leaving him by the door in a state of bewilderment and suspicion.

When he walked over to you, you turned your head to look at him– which was the first time you moved in what you now guessed would have to be about fifteen minutes.

“Sugar, you’re scarin’ me,” Sy said with one raised eyebrow and a hesitant half-smile on his face. Without looking, he sat down on the bed in front of you, and put a hand on yours. “What’s that you’re holdin’?” There was no point in lying to him. Besides, he was already holding the test – and his initial reaction wasn’t that much different from yours.

“I’m pregnant,” you said. It was the first time you said it out loud – although ‘loud’ was a serious overstatement. Was a part of you banking on the off chance that this was a false positive? Probably. Sy’s reaction didn’t help. Why didn’t he look happy? He’d known he wanted kids for God knows how long! He should be ecstatic, right?

“I can see that,” he said softly. In his voice, you heard the tears you saw in his eyes, but he didn’t give you any indication of whether they were happy tears or… You didn’t even want to think about the alternative. The idea of Sy not being happy about this absolutely shattered your heart, which could really only mean one thing… You’d made up your mind. “What I really wanna know is… Sugar, are we havin’ a baby?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice remarkably strong as you did. The word was barely out of your mouth, or Sy’s lips were on yours. The kiss was fierce, gentle, caring, full of love, protective, intense, relentless, very thorough – and so much more. It was everything he was, everything he had to offer, and all of it was for you, and you alone.

Seeing him cry was something else: it broke your heart, even though you were absolutely convinced they were tears of joy. He didn’t speak. He just pulled you into his lap, and let you curl up into a ball.

“A week ago, we were fighting about whether or not I saw a future for us,” you murmured. You’d never been more certain of that future, but at the same time, you were terrified. Having a baby with the guy you’d only been dating for four months sounded crazy, everyone could see that. Even if that guy was Sy. The two of you got into bed, and you didn’t waste a second to crawl back into his arms.

“Sugar, we don’t have to do this. Whatever you decide, I’m right there with ya.” How could he even say that? Did that mean…

“You don’t want this…” It wasn’t a question. Why else would he even suggest not seeing this through?

“Whoa! Sugar, let me tell ya somethin’,” he said, “I was there when Wes was born. Actually, I’d just spent a day or two in jail for chasin’ Betty’s good for nothin’ son of a bitch ex, Joe Warren, down and punching his lights out, but that’s not important right now.”

“Jail?” That seemed excessive…

“Small town, Sheriff saw me, I gave him a li’l too much of an attitude. Parents weren’t too eager to come pick me up, figured it’d do me good to spend the night.” He was smiling, clearly it hadn’t left any kind of permanent trauma. Still seemed weird, though. “They were a few towns over for a funeral, anyway, so they weren’t even thinkin’bout picking my sorry ass up. Sheriff let me go when my sister called the office, said she needed me at the hospital.”

“Wait, if your parents weren’t home, how did she get to the hospital?”

“Georgie had driven her,” Sy said as he smiled at the memory. Somewhere, instinctively, the math didn’t work out there. “Fifteen years old. They let ‘em keep their learner’s permits, him and Ricky. Like I said, small town.” Sy shook his head while you silently jumped for joy: You’d been right, the math didn’t work out.

“Sheriff took ‘em back home. I stayed with Betty. I’ll tell ya, Sugar, I wanted to run, I was freaked out.” “But you didn’t.” That had to be the point, right?

“I didn’t. He’s Jonathan Wesley Syverson for a reason,” he said. Shortly after, his expression turned the slightest bit sour. “McGraw, nowadays.”

“Your sister’s husband adopted him?” you asked. Why did Sy seem upset about that? “I’m a little shaky on the names, still, sorry.”

“Bill,” Sy reminded you. “He did. I shouldn’t be mad about it, he’s a good man. Great father. But it pissed me off when he waltzed in and… What I’m tryin’ to say, Sugar: The moment I held my nephew, I knew I wanted kids of my own someday. I’ve been wantin’ this since I was seventeen years old. Ain’t gon’ change my mind about it now.” Somehow, that story helped a lot, and what’s more; you noticed Sy’s hand had moved – without you realizing it – to your stomach.

“I’m scared,” you whispered. Sy’s lips found your temple and kissed it softly.

“I’m right here.”

[keanureevesisbae]

in my old comments i already quoted it, but it's just too iconic not to put it here again

You surprised Sy’s family with a sudden outburst of Dutchness when you congratulated Sy’s parents with Sy’s birthday, and were then forced to explain that it was a thing the Dutch did, without being able to give any kind of even half-decent reason as to why.

A SUDDEN OUTBURST OF DUTCHNESS. ik ga stuk

Part 24

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 23 🍂 Part 25

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Sy's big-ass family.

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: @keanureevesisbae, as promised, I bring thee: Ch 24. I'm making y'all wait for 25 until I have 27 written. Sorry ❤️

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @beck07990 @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn

Jules started her little speech by thanking everyone for showing up at her engagement party, and thanking you – and Sy – for letting her use your house, which subjected you to the scorn of your mother-in-law again. Alright; subjected Sy to the scorn of his mother again. You were largely unaffected by the aforementioned scorn.

“As you may know,” Jules continued, “Pat hates being the center of attention for the whole night, and I’m a sucker for planning surprises for people.” You felt Sy tense up next to you as she said that.

“And it just so happens that someone very important to all of us…” Jules was laying the praise on thick, which Sy didn’t seem to appreciate. It took you far too long to realize where she was even going with this. “… turns thirty next week.”

Sy looked at Julie as if he wanted to shoot her straight to hell, and you sighed, as there was now officially no way you could make yourself scarce. There was singing, then another round of singing, specifically because Sy had begged everyone to stop singing, and following that had to be an attempt at the World Record for ‘most consecutive times a single person could hear the word ‘congratulations’ before going batshit crazy.’

You surprised Sy’s family with a sudden outburst of Dutchness when you congratulated Sy’s parents with Sy’s birthday, and were then forced to explain that it was a thing the Dutch did, without being able to give any kind of even half-decent reason as to why. Finding out you were Dutch also meant that a small army of kids now forced you to teach them some Dutch words, which started out cute, but soon turned into the inevitable ‘translate this swearword for me’-fiasco anyone with any braincells would have seen coming from the beginning. All in all, it took a while for things to settle down a bit again, and you were glad when the kids had disappeared back into the crowd.

“Love kids, but thirteen of them is a lot.” You said to Sy when he helped you find a place to sit down for a minute.

“I’d ask if you’re feeling any better yet, but I don’t think that whole circus really helped,” he said as he stroked a few curls out of your face and tucked them behind your ear, where they immediately escaped again, making Sy laugh. “Let me get you a drink.”

“Thanks, Sy,” you said, grabbing his hand as he got up to head to the kitchen.

While Sy was gone, you closed your eyes, and tried to ignore everyone around you, which became impossible when Mary Beth joined you on the couch.

“Lara, sweetheart, would I be a whole lot of trouble if I asked you to hold Lainey for a minute?”

“No, of course not!” You hadn’t even finished your sentence, or the little girl was in your arms.

“Thanks, honey,” Mary Beth said softly, “I love her to bits, but my arms are gettin’ sore.”

“I can imagine,” you said. Lainey was adorable. Nine months old with enormous blue eyes, and little hands and feet and… Her mom was gone. Probably off to the bathroom, but still, you prayed she’d get back just in case Lainey decided to start crying…

“Hey, how’s my favorite niece?” Sy sat down next to you and wrapped one arm around you as he tickled Lainey with the other.

“I thought I was your favorite niece, uncle Sy?” One of the other girls had heard what he said and jumped into his lap.

“Y’are,” Sy said, “and so are the twins.”

“That’s not fair,” one of the boys yelled. Suddenly, you were being ganged up on by children. It was scarier than you would have imagined.

“You’re not my niece, Johnny,” Sy answered with a smile, and the kids laughed at their uncle’s terrible joke before disappearing again.

“You said somethin’bout this lookin’ good on me, Sugar,” Sy said softly as he pressed his lips to your temple, “but I gotta admit, it looks pretty damn fine on you, too.”

You allowed yourself to get lost in that feeling for a bit. It was like a little glimpse into your future; sitting on that couch with Sy, holding a baby…

“Dammit, Sy, I want one,” you heard yourself say, although you were sure you’d never made the conscious decision to actually speak the words. In fact, you’d never thought you’d hear yourself utter a sentence like that at all. Ever. The look on Sy’s face said it all, but he doubled down on it with words.

“As many as you want, Sugar,” he said before kissing you. The loving and intimate energy of the moment was skillfully destroyed by half a dozen children yelling “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew” the moment Sy’s lips touched yours.

“Good Lord, you’d think it would traumatize them forever,” Mary Beth said after shooing the kids away. Now that her spot on the couch was taken, she sat down in the chair next to you. “I’ll take her again, if you want.” She held out her arms, but you really didn’t want to let go of Lainey just yet.

“It’s alright, she’s asleep, anyway,” you said. Mary Beth seemed more than grateful to have her hands free for a bit longer, and you didn’t mind that you got to cuddle with this cutie a little more. Besides, your stomach finally seemed to settle a little, but you still hoped that holding a sleeping baby would keep people away from you for a bit.

It all went on like that for quite some time, and by the time people started leaving, you’d been praying they would for at least three hours. Sy was merciless in kicking his brothers – who were now fairly drunk – out of the house, and with them gone, peace was restored. Wait, no. Scratch that: quiet was restored. Peace, to you, was a house that didn’t look like a miniature tornado had ripped through it.

“Take a shower and go to bed, Sugar,” Sy said. He could clearly tell you still weren’t feeling very well – and he was one hundred per cent right about that, it’s just that you’d much rather he join you for both of those activities. “I’m gonna help Jules clean up this mess.” Jules didn’t look too thrilled that she was being roped into cleaning duty – something she had surely hoped to avoid by not hosting this party herself, but you knew she wasn’t so stupid as to actually expect she’d be let go just like that. Even with Sy’s mom doing you the courtesy of stacking the dishwasher before she left, there was still plenty to be done.

“Since when does your family leave deviled eggs uneaten?” Jules asked while she carried a plate with two sad-looking eggs back to the kitchen. “Lara, want one?” As soon as she held the plate out to you, you stepped back. Julie made a whole scene out of pointing out you loved deviled eggs – as if you’d forget that – but with your stomach as upset as it was right now, they just made you feel sick.

“Let her go upstairs, Jules,” Sy said. There was definitely some irritation in his voice, and you were one hundred percent sure he wanted Jules and Pat out of the house as soon as humanly possible, so he could get to bed, too. “She’s not feeling well. Just… help me clean up my damn house.”

Jules followed his orders immediately, which was a very un-Jules thing to do, and you made your way upstairs. First stop: bathroom. The thought of a hot shower was almost excruciatingly appealing to you right now.

[keanureevesisbae]

ik ben echt overweldigd door de hoeveelheid namen. ik ga stuk

Part 23

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 22 🍂 Part 24

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Lots and LOTS of names. (The family tree isn't quite finished yet, but if anyone needs it to keep track of this... I'll post it XD)

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: 21 days. That's three whole weeks. I'm so sorry! I've been trying to get ahead on this thing for a bit, it didn't quite work out. I just wasn't in a Sy mood for some reason. But! Here we are again, with another fluffish chapter. @keanureevesisbae hold on to your ovaries, there will be Sy holding babies. (Do I owe up to 30 or 31 now?)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @beck07990 @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn

A few quick observations: Sy’s family? Very big. And as you would expect from a big family; the noise was absolutely overwhelming. Dean appeared next to you out of nowhere, grabbing you by the shoulders and dragging you into a corner.

“Let Jules handle this part, just…” He looked around for a moment, which was a lot easier for him than it was for you, and called Sy over.

“There y’are, Sugar,” he said. “Thought I’d lost ya!”

“You did lose me,” you growled. Sy’s family consisted of a fair amount of big men – not that Sy was by any means the runt of the family; quite the contrary, in fact – and a far larger amount of less-than-tall-but-still-taller-than-you women. And kids. So, so many kids. Some of which, you noticed, were also taller than you.

“Let me introduce you to my family,” Sy said. To your surprise – though it didn’t surprise you as much as it maybe should have – he went out to look for his parents, first.

“Mom, dad,” Sy said when he’d found them in the crowd, “I’d like you to meet Lara, my girlfriend.” As soon as he said it, the living room went much more quiet, and the entire atmosphere turned much more uncomfortable.

“Alright, y’all absolutely sure y’all wanna get nosy?” It didn’t sound friendly, but everyone went off minding their own business, so that was good.

“Sy!” Either his mother didn’t appreciate her son’s direct approach, or something else was off. “Why is this the first time we’re hearin’ of any girlfriend?” Instead of offering a defense to his mother, Sy just looked at his dad.

“He may have said somethin’bout it to me,” Sy’s father growled to no one in particular before turning to Sy, “but it’s yer own fault for not tellin’ your mother directly.”

“It’s been busy,” Sy said softly. There clearly wasn’t a good way for him to navigate himself out of this conversation.

“Too busy to call your own mother? Good Lord, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Betty-Jo and John-Bob Syverson,” Sy chuckled at you as his mother made a few dramatic hand gestures before slapping Sy in the shoulder with her purse a few times.

“Now probably ain’t the best time to ask why your furniture is in her living room, right, Sy?” A younger man who looked like he was one of Sy’s brothers threw an arm around Sy’s shoulders and grinned so wide that you were almost scared his face would tear in half. Sy looked like he was about to commit murder, but so did Sy’s mom – and you had to admit she was much scarier – and very quick to put two and two together.

“Are the two o’ya livin’ together?” It was funny to hear that her drawl got more pronounced when she got mad, just like Sy’s…

“Ma, don’t get m-“

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, son.” There was absolutely no arguing with this woman.

“Yes.”

“Jonathan George Syverson, I raised you better than to go around livin’ with women you ain’t got no intention of marryin’!”

“One second, Ma,” Sy said with a grin before turning to you. “Sugar, did I or did I not tell you that that was exactly what she’d have to say about that?” He paid for the choice to interrupt the conversation with a very firm smack in the back of his head from his father.

“Don’t you think for a second that I’m in any way thrilled about this situation, son.”

“Nothin’ to do with you, sweetheart, you seem like a very nice girl,” his mother said to you in the nicest voice before scowling at her son again. “But you should know better. Sweet lord Jesus, what did I do wrong? You try to raise ‘em right, ‘n this is what you get…”

“You raised him just fine, Ma’am,” you said before slamming your mouth shut again. Why were you getting in the middle of this? You should definitely stay out of this. It was a good thing Sy smiled when you looked up at him, and he pulled you closer.

“I don’t think you gotta worry about his intentions to marry her, Ma,” his brother said as he looked at Sy’s face. His expression said everything – which seemed to calm his mother down at least a little. You talked to them for a moment before they walked away to say hello to Julie’s parents.

“This is Georgie,” Sy said after they were out of earshot, “the youngest of the twins, who’s apparently made it his life’s mission to try’n get me killed. What the fuck was that, you bastard?”

“Revenge,” Georgie replied, “For ratting me ‘n Angelina Jefferson out.”

“That was senior prom! You held onto that for nearly ten years? God damn!” He shook his head in disbelief until George was joined by a woman holding a kid. “Anyway, this is his wife, Emma. And that’s Mikey, their youngest. The eldest is Helena Marie, she’s off somewhere, I reckon.” Mikey reached for Sy, who took him from his mom. Something about seeing Sy with a kid on his arm made you melt. Apparently, George saw the way you looked at his brother.

“Looks good on him, doesn’t it?” he said with a big smirk. There was absolutely no denying that he was right. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jules, who had been handed what no doubt was the youngest kid of Pat’s sister.

“Shut up,” Sy snapped back at Georgie, “stop tryin’ to make her uncomfortable.”

“He’s right, though. It does suit you,” you said – again, without thinking about it. What was wrong with you? “Anyway, we’re not done with introductions, are we?”

“Not even close,” Sy answered before he started laughing.

“Uncle Sy!” you suddenly heard from behind, and a boy – you guessed he was 12 or so years old – appeared next to you. “New girlfriend?”

“Hey, Wes! Yeah,” Sy replied, “this is Lara.”

“Lara, or Aunt Lara?”

“Depends on whether you want to live to see another day, mister,” someone else replied to that question from somewhere behind you. You raised your eyebrows at Sy, who pointed out the next person for you to be introduced to: his sister-in-law Nora-Beth, who was married to the eldest of the twins, Ricky. According to Sy, they had one kid – so far: John-Luke.

“Aunt it is!” the teen in front of you said with the same big grin on his face that Sy usually had. He introduced himself as Wesley and disappeared again.

“Wes is my sister Mary Beth’s eldest,” Sy explained, and he pointed his sister out in the crowd, along with her husband Bill. “The other four are Gray, Will and Kenny, and there’s Lainey, the one she’s holding.”

“God, five kids?” You remembered that Sy had told you that Mary Beth was twenty-nine years old. “In nine years?” That was a tight fit, timewise.

“In thirteen years,” Sy said, “she had Wes when she was sixteen. Don’t bring it up with Ma around, she’s still not over it completely. It was Nana who knocked some sense into her, actually.” That was unexpected, because Sy had described his grandma as extremely religious and very… proper.

“She wasn’t thrilled,” Mary Beth had apparently heard your conversation, and was now standing next to Sy, “but she figured we’d have to make the best of a bad situation. Before you think the worst; my higschool boyfriend knocked me up and then took off. Bad enough, but not as bad as it could’ve been.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said when she saw your face, “It’s okay if you don’t know what to say! You look scared to death, sweetheart, are you alright?”

“Just not used to all this big family… stuff,” you admitted softly as you looked around the room to all the faces of people you hadn’t been introduced to yet. You were already dizzy, how the hell were you going to survive this?

“Sy, what were you thinkin’, dumpin’ a sweet girl like her in the middle of this like it ain’t nothin’!” Another voice you didn’t recognize, but that problem solved itself. “Anna-Belle, nice to meet you! This is my husband, Lewis.” She pointed to the man next to her before giving you a hug. At least there seemed to be no kids attached to this pair, that was a nice break from everything that was going on. Unfortunately for you, the next unfamiliar face was already approaching for introductions. This time, it was Darlene Louise, Sy’s youngest siter, with her husband, Jonathan. You were beginning to gain some first-hand experience with the reason Sy went by Sy. Darlene Louise – who insisted she shouldn’t be called Darlene – and John – who insisted he shouldn’t be called Jonathan – had two kids: Jenna-Lynn and Vicky-Lee.

“Lara? Lara!” Now that voice you’d recognize everywhere: it was Jules. “God, there you are. You’re damn near invisible in here, I thought you were one of the kids. Come meet my parents!” She pulled you along to the far side of the living room.

“Mom, dad, this is Lara, my Dutch friend I’ve been telling you about for years!”

At least you recognized Debbie and Tim McGregor from pictures, and apparently they recognized you, too. Her mother hugged you, her father shook your hands, and they both repeated the phrase ‘nice to meet you’ half a dozen times before asking you all kinds of questions about yourself you felt you’d already answered seventy-two times this afternoon, even though you’d hardly spend any time talking to anyone, because Sy kept throwing names in your direction. After Julie’s’parents, you were introduced to Mary-Kate and Patrick Dawson – Pat’s parents – and Sy’s uncle Charlie and his husband Raymond. You managed to escapte to the kitchen before anyone else could get to you.

“Sugar? Are you hidin’?” Sy wrapped his arms around you more carefully than he usually would have. “I know it’s a lot, are you alright?”

“Exhausted,” you said, “and nauseous.”

“Do you want to lie down for a minute?” His offer came just a tiny bit too late, because Jules called everyone back into the living room for some sort of announcement, or whatever, and you had no choice but to follow Sy, who luckily stayed close to you.

[keanureevesisbae]

this was an emotional rollercoaster.

Part 22

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 21 🍂 Part 23

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: None? Some more angst, maybe? Fluff warning? Idk?

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: It's unbelievable that I now owe up to part 28 of this story. I'm sorry I've been out of it for so long, I'll try to get the next part here a bit faster! @keanureevesisbae There you go, we're out of angst. ❤️

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

“Sy?” You turned around when you heard the door to the bedroom open. The room was cold, even under the blankets, and you were alone. Where was Sy? Was he seriously not coming to bed because of that fight?

“Lara?” That wasn’t Sy. It was Jules. Why was she in your bedroom? And more importantly: Why wasn’t Sy? The duvet you were under seemed to get colder with every passing second, until you finally threw it off you, but the air of the room wasn’t much better. You were overcome by involuntary, violent shivers you couldn’t control.

“Jules? What’s going on, where is Sy?” Outside your window, it was pitch black. It had to be the middle of the night. Why was Jules here at this time of night?

“You have to come with me.” Her voice was weird, flat, and her eyes were empty, as if no one was really there. From the hallway, a cold light lit up your room enough to see there were tears on her cheeks. It had to be bad.

“Jules, what’s happening?” Your voice trembled with terror, but it was nothing compared to what you were actually feeling.

“You have to come with me,” she said again, her voice cold and emotionless. Was she shocked? Afraid of something? You wanted to scooch across Sy’s side of the bed, but instead your leg fell over the edge of… it clearly wasn’t your bed; it was only half the size. Strange. You followed Jules out of the room into a long hallway, cold light, emanated by the fluorescent ceiling lights, bouncing off the walls and floors. This definitely wasn’t your home… It looked more like… A hospital?

“Jules where are we? Where are we going?” “You have to come with me.” It was starting to sound extremely creepy, and it stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Jules,” you demanded, “I’m not coming with you until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“There’s been an accident.”

Your eyes opened with tears in them, but you weren’t able to keep them there for long. All it took for them to stream down your face freely was your instinctive move of extending a hand to your right – where Sy was supposed to be sleeping. Except he wasn’t there. In a split second, you were out of bed, out of the room, and flying down the stairs as if your life depended on it. It wasn’t even a relief when you heard the sound that came from the TV in the living room.

“Sugar?” Sy said, definitely sounding more than a little surprised when you dove into his arms. “Darlin’, what’s going on?” He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face in his chest. You couldn’t speak, you could barely even breathe: You were simply too busy crying hysterically and clinging to Sy as if he was singlehandedly responsible for keeping you alive. He didn’t speak again until you had calmed down a bit, at which point you apologized a thousand times in a row for your hysterics.

“I had a really bad dream,” you sighed, “I’m sorry.” You couldn’t tell him what it was about. It was pathetic that you needed a dream to realize that a life without Sy would be horrible. Of course, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, even if it meant he had to practically pull the answer out of you – and he did.

“Oh, Sugar,” he chuckled, “I’m right here, not goin’ anywhere.” He gently ran his fingers through your hair, playing with the curls offhandedly as he did.

“I can’t lose you Sy, ever,” you mumbled into his chest, “you mean too much to me.”

“Do I?” You told yourself a million times that he wasn’t asking the question to be mean, or to get you to say something you weren’t ready to say, but you knew you had to give him something. All the feelings were there, why couldn’t you just say the words?

“Sy… You’re my first boyfriend, this is the first time I’m living with someone, and… Everything is happening so incredibly fast… It feels great, I have absolutely zero regrets, and I guess it’s just a little hard to admit to myself I’m really doing the right thing. Because I genuinely believe that, Sy.” It was almost impossible to fight back the tears, impossible to feel as if you weren’t just looking for excuses, but you had to explain. “I- My future has you in it, all the way to the end if it were up to me.”

“Part of it is up to you, Sugar,” Sy said. He was still holding you, the weight of his arms comforting around you, but you just knew you two weren’t completely in the clear yet. “I see a wedding in our future, baby. Ours, in case I didn’t make myself clear.” You laughed through your tears when he said it.

“So… House, wife, kids, the whole nine?” If someone had told you half a year ago that you’d be living with a guy – and not just any guy, but the love of your life – before the end of the year, you’d have laughed in their face. Yet here you were, curled up in Sy’s lap, feeling safer in his arms than you’d ever felt in your entire life.  

“That’s the dream,” he answered with a smile. You’d have laughed at that same person if they’d also told you that all of a sudden, you’d want to give a man a whole bunch of kids, but here you were… Somehow, his next words made you love him even more: “But Sugar, I ain’t talkin’ about no kids yet. We’ve got plenty of time.”  

Sy carried you back to the bedroom and tossed you back on your bed. You shivered as you remembered the dream from before, but that all went away the second Sy joined you, and he pulled you against him as he always did.

“I’m really sorry, Sy,” you said for the millionth time tonight, and he laughed.

“Me too, darlin’,” he said before kissing your neck – which was mostly ‘tickle neck with beard’ at this point, as he’d found out it would make you squirm. “I tend to forget we’re goin’ a mile a minute.”

“I wouldn’t change a single thing, Sy,” you sighed as you nestled yourself into his chest, still wondering why it was so hard to just… Everything changed when he did what he always did; the not-at-all-subtle signature titty-grab that he swore was absolutely necessary for him to get a good night's sleep. “I love you.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, which made you afraid you’d fucked up royally. Suddenly, you wondered if it was too soon to say stuff like that, but after four months of dating… Did you wait too long? In your defense, he hadn’t said it, either? Maybe you were just overth-

“You’re overthinkin’ this, Sugar.” You could tell he was smiling, even if you couldn’t see him. “I love you, too.”

[keanureevesisbae]

i remember this part very vividly and i am having such a throwback to a pain in my heart lol

Part 21

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 20 🍂 Part 22

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Some angst...

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: @keanureevesisbae there we go... A very awkward little snippet of life. I now owe up to chapter 26! Looks like you guys are getting more Sy... Always more and more Sy... Some of the conversations in this are in Dutch, which I translated for everyone who doesn't speak Dutch. Which is... well... most people, I guess?

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

“What in tarnation?” It was too early for you to be up, or so Sy seemed to think, and most certainly too early for anything to have you this stressed out.

“Sy,” you said, gesturing at him to put the wood he was holding away, “I’m so sorry…” That sounded very dramatic – so dramatic that he actually dropped the firewood. He was with you in seconds.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice was soft and the look in his eyes worried.

“I completely forgot…” You stared at your phone in disbelief. “My mom is coming over.”

“My goodness, Sugar,” Sy said, “You’re gonna give a man a heart attack. When does she get here?”

“Half an hour.” Apparently, Sy did think that was cause for some panic, because he seemed to zone out for a second. “And she’s bringing my aunts. And I just realized I may or may not have forgotten to mention that we were actually dating, let alone that you’ve moved in. On the plus side, you’ll have met my whole family.”

“Whole family?” Really? That was the part that brought him back to the real world?

“Yeah. It’s just the four of us. My aunts never married, dad isn’t in the picture, don’t have any siblings.”

“You’re kidding?” The bewilderment on his face was absolutely hilarious to you. How hard could it be to understand that you just didn’t have a big family?

“I most certainly am not.”

“Sugar… Jesus, I’m kinda glad I don’t gotta meet your dad…” Alright, you understood the way he was raised, but that still hit you in the independence wrong.

“Oh, no, my mom is definitely the one you should be worried about, anyway,” you said with a sweet smile. He could suck on that. Nothing wrong with making him sweat a little… Or well… A little more. He was already covered in sweat from chopping wood, and with the amount of time you had – or rather didn’t have – you could really do without the way that drove you nuts.

“She gonna be mad we’re livin’ together?” You dodged him when he tried to hug you, which struck a nerve with him.

“Probably not. Mad that I didn’t tell her, maybe.” You shrugged, and then you looked at your phone again, “You have about 25 minutes to shower.”

“You mean…” He got that devilish grin on his face that made you curse him, and he licked his lips slowly as he took a step towards you.

“Sy, no.” You actually raised a finger at him, as if you were scolding a dog, but it didn’t work. Of course it didn’t. You shrieked as he threw you over his shoulder and marched you upstairs, not putting you down until you were in the bathroom. It was a miracle that the shirt you were wearing even survived; he all but tore it off your body. Now, of course you could have made a break for it when Sy let go of you to take off his own clothes. Except that plan went down the drain the second he lifted his shirt. God damn him and his perfect body.

You knew for a fact that Sy was far too proud of his… prowess to ever underestimate the time he’d need to fuck you properly, which meant your mom was early. At least, assuming that the person ringing your doorbell like a madman (or -woman) was actually your mom. Part of you hoped it wasn’t when you quickly struggled to get into your clothes and ran down the stairs while furiously towel drying your hair.

“Mam!” Wait, did your Dutch sound weird all of a sudden? Was there an accent to it? For the love of God, you’d said one word. There was no way to tell.

“Lara, lieverd!” She hugged you tightly before pushing past you into the house, your aunts not far behind.

“Tante!” Two more sets of arms managed to creep around you before you even realized. “Tante!” Both of your aunts greeted you, without even bothering to break up their conversation about… whatever – until something stopped them and their chattering dead in their tracks. That ‘something’ was Sy, who walked down the stairs unusually quietly and very, very carefully. Your mom raised an eyebrow at you, your aunts exchanged looks – then looked at you, then back at each other, then at Sy, then back to you.

“Lara…” One of them started, but there was no way in hell you were going to let them finish that sentence.

“Eh, mam, tantes, dit is Sy,” you said. Yeah. Your Dutch was definitely shaky. “En Sy is…” your mom asked impatiently.

“Eh… Mijn vriend.” (Eh... My boyfriend.)

“Nou! De hemel zij geprezen!” Your mom’s eldest sister said as she rolled her eyes. (Oh, thank god!)

“Zou onderhand eens tijd worden, meisje.” (It was about damn time, girl.)

“Lieve schat,” your mom whispered, “hoe oud is hij?” It took a little more courage than you had initially expected to tell your mom Sy was thirty to your twenty-four, but she seemed to be completely okay with it. Your aunts did a couple too many double-takes of Sy within the span of a few minutes to ever convince you that they weren’t on board with this. (Darling, ... , how old is he?)

“Nou, dame, het ziet er niet uit alsof je het slecht voor elkaar hebt!” Your aunts nodded at you approvingly while Sy just stood there, looking… befuddled. Because… Oh God. Because you were clearly talkling about him in a language he didn’t understand. (Well, lady, it doesn't look like you're having a terrible time.)

“I’m sorry!” You said, and you took a few steps towards him. Your plan had been to give him a hug, but somehow you couldn’t make it past putting a hand on his arm – not with your mother in the room – and his face fell when you did. He seemed to shrug it off immediately, but you knew he was going to bring it up later – as he should.

“So, Sy, that’s an interesting name.” Classic introduction to the interrogation, way to go, Mom. Sy gave them the story of why he went by Sy, and your family paid close attention. On three separate occasions, your mom’s youngest sister looked at you as if you’d gone completely insane – and maybe you had. You were sitting about as far away from Sy on the couch as you could reasonably expect to get away with, and you felt him grow more tense with every passing second. Everyone seemed to be getting along perfectly fine, and you were hoping that the rest of the day – and the rest of the visit – would be smooth sailing, but unfortunately, your aunt managed to ask that one question relatively early on.

“What do you do, Sy?” That wasn’t the question. As a matter of fact, they were thrilled to find out he was a contractor – your eldest aunt may have said something vaguely inappropriate about the appeal of strong, handy men – and they ‘aww’-ed loudly when he said he’d helped you remodel this place. But then all hell broke loose.

“And do you live in town, or…” Your mom was genuinely interested in the answer, but both you and Sy tensed up immediately. It seemed like Sy was going to leave this one up to you – which was probably for the best…

“He, eh…” you stammered, “he lives here.” The look on your face bordered on guilty, and you cursed yourself for not having put your time before they arrived to better use and actually preparing some form of an answer to this question.

“Are you telling me you’ve moved in together?” your brain scrambled for a decent explanation of the situation, naturally completely foregoing the fact that ‘the truth’ was one hundred percent an option.

“Yes?” It was more of a question than an answer. You could tell your aunts were mentally grabbing popcorn – not because they wanted to see you fight, but because they were nosy, and curious, and extremely invested in drama, and yes those were three ways of saying the same damn thing, but right now that wasn’t exactly important.

“You’ve been together for five months, and you’re living together?” You missed the perfectly neutral tone in your mother’s voice and somehow plastered a boatload of anger and derision over it, instead. “For how long?”

“A little over a month, ma’am,” Sy said politely. You should have been grateful that he was willing to shoulder some of the blame, but instead you panicked even more. And this type of panic, you recognized all too well. It was the kind of panic you couldn’t contain, the kind of panic that sent words flying out your mouth you really shouldn’t be saying.

“It just… It seemed like a good idea at the time…” Implying that it didn’t seem that way now, great start. “Sy’s been looking for a place forever.” Present tense that really shouldn’t be there, you were really going for gold here. “It was supposed to be a temporary solution.” Blatant lie – and the thing that really caught Sy off guard. He snapped his head up and looked at you.

“Temporary sol-” He couldn’t even finish the word. “Sugar, I think I need to head out for a minute, ‘fore I say somethin’ incredibly stupid.” He still managed to excuse himself to your aunts and mom before he got up and left the house.

“Ben jij nou helemaal van de pot gepleurd?” Your aunts really didn’t hesitate to give you a piece of their minds – not that your mom was thrilled about the situation. (Are you completely insane? Literally: Did you fall off the toilet. (I wish I was kidding.))

“Heb jij enig idee hoe weinig van zulke kerels er rondlopen op deze planeet?” Well, the good news was they liked him… (Do you have any idea how scarce good guys like that are on this planet?)

“Vierentwintig jaar, Lara, lopen wij met z’n allen te wachten, tot jij eindelijk eens een keer met een leuke vent thuiskomt.” Oh boy, you could tell your youngest aunt was on fire tonight… “En punt één zeg je niks als je er eindelijk een gevonden hebt, punt twee jaag je ‘m zo even buiten. Wat moeten we nou in godshemelsnaam met jou, hè?” (Twenty-four years, Lara, we're waiting for you to bring home a nice guy" ... "And first of all, you don't tell anyone when you've finally found one, second of all, you chase him out the dore just like that. What in the name of everything that's holy are we supposed to do with you?)

There it was again. They’d been telling you for years that they were close to abandoning all hope when it came to your (up until then completely nonexistent) love life, but this time, they actually looked for real. Your mom suggested she and sisters go back to the hotel – they were exhausted from traveling, after all – so you could talk to Sy, and without waiting for you to answer, they got up and left. Now ‘leaving’ was a process that took them at least thirty minutes. Thirty minutes in which your mom reassured you several times that she didn’t have a problem with the two of you living together, even if it was soon, and emphasizing how much better it would have been if you’d just told them the truth – as if that advice was going to help you now that the damage was already done. You were also told about twenty times that your mom and aunts really liked Sy, and that you should try your very best to fix this. Somewhere in that half hour between when they said they’d leave, and the moment the front door actually closed behind them, Sy came back home.

“Sy, I can explain…” you started, but he wasn’t having any of that. You’d done plenty of explaining, according to him. And you had to admit he probably had a point there.

“I can fuck you on every available surface in this house, but I can’t hug you in front of your family. That’s great. Thanks.” Right, he was clearly pissed about that too – and also completely within his right to be pissed, if you were completely honest about it. There were tears in your eyes before he even got to the part that made him really mad, and you saw him look away – he couldn’t stand to see you cry.

“Sugar, I wouldn’t’a cared if you’d told your ma that we’d only been livin’ together for a week. But it seemed like a good idea at the time? Makin’ it seem like I’m still lookin’ for a place, like this is a… Sugar, do you see this as a temporary thing?” That was somehow a very unexpected question. Especially the question behind the question.

“Sy, I…” You shook your head. “What are you asking me?”

“Do you think that this will end?”

“I don’t want it to,” you said, your voice almost pleading, as if he was actually saying goodbye to you.

“That’s not what I asked, is it?” he said. “When you think about five years from now, am I there? Are we still together?” You had to admit to yourself that you hadn’t dared think about it.

“Sy, anything could happen, and it’s not up to me, I-“

“Sugar. When you think about your future, am I in it?” His current attitude told you a lot about what his reply to his mom calling him out for ‘living with a woman he had no intention of marrying’ would have been. “Lara, I need an answer.” He sounded sad, defeated, almost.

“Yes,” you said, although your voice was just a whisper, “I do see a future with you.” It was freeing to admit that to yourself, but you knew it was going to take a lot more courage to admit it to the rest of the world.

“Then start actin’ like it, Sugar,” Sy said calmly.

[keanureevesisbae]

realization seeps in that this is fictional me. i love that for me

Part 20

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 19 🍂 Part 21

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, There's like a half-explicit description of a blowjob.

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: @keanureevesisbae has made it so that I now owe up until 25! Homegirl just keeps on keeping on. But we're getting there... Fun stuff coming up! Enjoy!

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

“Woman, that car of yours is gonna be the death of me!” Tough luck, though, you told him, because you weren’t going through the process of getting another car. Besides, he was the one who had picked that one.

“What’s wrong with it, though?” You asked as you looked around the counter. “Grab me the peas from the freezer, would you?”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it,” Sy growled, “it’s just too small for normal people.” He held the bag of frozen peas to his forehead while he walked over to you. It wasn’t the first time he’d hit his head trying to get into your car, and you were fairly sure it wouldn’t be the last. Served him right, though, because you were somehow training your splits every time you had to get into that ridiculous truck of his.

“Didn’t feel like getting off your step?” he teased as he handed you the bag of peas. The two of you had a love-hate relationship with the way he teased you about your height. And by that you meant that you hated that he loved it, and he loved that you hated it.

“If I got down from here, I wouldn’t be able to do this,” you said before you kissed him on the head. “Besides, it’s not as if you qualify as ‘normal people’, you’re a giant.” Not back home in the Netherlands, though, he wasn’t even on the tall side of average there. But he didn’t need to know that. Sy didn’t have a fragile ego, but you were fairly sure it could be bruised, and calling him small in any capacity was probably the way to go at it if you wanted that to happen.

“Car’s fixed,” he just said, not wanting to get into that argument again. He wouldn’t want to risk overusing the ‘everything’s bigger in Texas’ line he loved so much.

“Thank you, honey,” you said sweetly, “what do I owe my favorite mechanic?”

“You ain’t ever gonna owe me nothin’, Sugar.” He wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck gently before moving his mouth up to your ear. “But I’ll gladly take donations in the form of some quality time with you on your knees.” You looked at the dinner you were making. It had another 25 minutes of oven time in its future… You ordered Sy to toss the dish back in the oven, and he happily obliged. If you hadn’t asked him, he would have insisted: He didn’t like it when you had to get off your step stools you had stowed away in every corner of the house while holding hot things, heavy things, or any other kinds of things.

When he stood back up after doing what you asked, he grinned; you were already on your knees and eagerly undoing his belt. His own suggestion hadn’t left him cold, but there was room for improvement, you judged as you wrapped your fingers around him and gave him a few strokes. He looked down, which created the perfect opportunity for you to give him that look that always drove him crazy. It was simple – eyes wide, biting your lip – but effective, and you chuckled when you felt him grow harder in your hand.

“I coulda waited but I ain’t comp- fuck!” He gave up on trying to speak when your tongue hit the tip of his cock, and didn’t seem to regain the ability after that. You relished the swears and moans that Sy let out, and you laughed when he took a step back to lean against the kitchen table after a few minutes. The hand on the back of your head didn’t put any pressure on you, but you had to admit it was very nice to feel Sy’s fingers in your hair.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me,” he groaned, and from the way he said it you could tell he was close. Now, how terrible would it have been if you both had a friend with a knack for walking in at precisely the wrong time…

“Well, I guess we’re square.” Jules. “I’ll give you guys a minute. To clean up, not to finish.”

“Kind o’ ya,” Sy said through gritted teeth. He turned to you when she was gone – after quickly sorting himself out. “Darlin’, you alright?” You shook your head. You were absolutely mortified by what had happened. How was Jules so casual about the whole thing?

“She ain’t seen anything, Sugar,” he tried to calm you down, but it didn’t work. You cleaned off and dove into Sy’s arms.

“Lara, Sy, everyone decent?” Jules asked from outside the kitchen. Sy begrudgingly answered her question. “I’m sorry, I should have knocked.” This was why you kept her around; yes, she was a handful and could be downright abrasive at times, but she was kind and generous and she didn’t hesitate to admit it when she was wrong.

“I forgot you guys were coming early, I’m sorry.”

“I’m fairly sure Jules won’t judge us for doing whatever we want with each other in our kitchen,” Sy said. There was clearly still some residual anger left in him from that fateful day Sy got kicked out of Jules’ and Patrick’s house.

“After what I said to you? Couldn’t possibly get pissed about it, now could I?” And that’s when the three of you started laughing.

“What do you mean ‘the engagement party is here’?” Sy yelled, scaring Jules and you – and even Pat, though he probably wouldn’t admit it. “Why did no one think to tell me? It can’t be here!”

“Why not, Sy?” “I live here, Sugar. That thing we said weeks ago? About those two –“ He pointed at Jules and Patrick. “- living in sin? That’s us now. Alright and them, but…”

“Come on, your parents can’t be that bad,” you said, but you saw Jules’ terrified look and immediately knew how wrong you were about that.

“Not that bad, but I’m tellin’ ya, Sugar, they ain’t gon’ like it. And my grandparents will have a heart attack.”

“But we don’t need to tell them you live here,” Jules tried carefully, “and your grandparents aren’t coming. They’re coming out for the wedding, though.”

“Half the stuff in that livin’ room is mine, Jules.” He had a very good point there.

“Big reaction back there,” you said after you’d sent Jules and Pat home. Sy had escaped to the bedroom and didn’t look like he was going to come out any time soon. “You scared me a little. What’s going on?” There had to be more to it than he was telling you.

“Jules,” he said to your surprise. “Somehow always gets to have it both ways. I love her to bits, don’t get me wrong, but… they’ll get to be the happy engaged couple, nobody needs to know they’re livin’ together, and I’m goin’ to get a bunch of shit from mom.”

“Is it really going to be that bad?”

“I can hear ma already,” he grinned. “’Johnathan George Syverson, I raised you better than to go around livin’ with a woman you have no intention of marryin.’” He paused for a moment after he said it, and then abruptly turned to you. “Not that I don’t… Y’know what, Sugar, I’m just goin’ to shut up.” The face he made while he said it had you in stitches.

“Sy! You’re being ridiculous,” you said, but he gave you a look.

“Am I? You weren’t raised by them, darlin’.” His tone was almost mocking.

“Is there any way we can pretend we’re just roommates?”

“Won’t go over any better,” he sighed, “and I’d also be lyin’ to ‘em. ‘N I don’t wanna introduce you as ‘just a friend’, Sugar. Did that once. Never again.”

[keanureevesisbae]

i love men who love their woman's titties. i want someone who loves my titties.

Part 19

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 18 🍂 Part 20

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, p-in-v sex, , praise kink situations and dirty talking Sy (mild)

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Thanks to our dearest @keanureevesisbae, I now owe you all another 5 chapters! (Up until 24!) Do we still count this as somewhat in time for V-day? (It's late October in the story, but who cares?)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

Your head was still spinning from all the engagement party planning nonsense that you and Jules had spent the entire afternoon on. Somehow, she had managed to convince you that you could host the whole thing – which arguably did make sense, because your house was far bigger than theirs, but it was still inconvenient for you and you probably shouldn’t have let her talk you into that. It was too late to go back on your decision now, because the party was in two weeks. Jules had thrown so much headache-inducing details and information and whatnot your way that you were almost sorry you didn’t drink, because you felt like you could use a stiff one at this point in time. Luckily, you were almost home. If you were going to make it home at all, that is, because the wind made it almost impossible to keep your car on the road, and the rain didn’t help, either. You saw your phone light up on the seat next to you; Sy was calling again – he had a tendency to worry about you when you had to drive in the dark, but your phone somehow hadn’t connected to the car, and pulling over in this kind of weather wasn’t really an option. Besides, your car was making a noise you didn’t trust, so there was absolutely no way you’d turn the damn thing off anywhere but in your own driveway. During the final five minutes of your drive home, Sy called three more times.

“Woman, what’s wrong with you?” Oh no, you thought. Your eyes were shooting daggers when you looked up at the very angry Sy you were met with when you opened the door, and you shrugged his hands off your shoulders. You were absolutely not in the mood for his attitude.

“Nothing, Sy, I was driving home,” you snapped back at him. “What’s wrong with you? You called me thirty goddamn times, what the fuck is that about?” On the way home, the rain had picked up enough to have completely soaked you all the way down to your underwear in the short distance from your car to the porch, and you were standing in the hallway freezing and shivering. It was unusually cold for late October, or so Sy, Pat and Jules had told you.

“You’re gone for way longer than what you’re s’possed to be gone for, you don’t pick up yer phone, there’s a massive storm goin’ on, I-“ Oh. He’d just been worried about you.

“Phone wouldn’t connect to the car,” you said, “I had no idea you were this worried, I’m sorry.”

“’S okay, Sugar,” he took another step towards you and took you into his arms.

“I’m cold and wet, Sy,” you said as you tried to push him away – which didn’t work, “I just want to take a shower.” In the distance, you heard thunder rumble. The shower was going to have to wait. Now that both of you had calmed down again, you noticed something else.

“Why are you sitting here in the dark? And why is it so cold here?”

“Power’s out.” That was a very simple answer, said in a very indifferent voice, and that wasn’t enough information at all.

“What do you mean ‘power is out’?” you exclaimed. Putting your hands on Sy’s arms to push yourself away from him was a poor choice in trying to come across as vaguely upset with the flow of information in this conversation. A) Your hands were on his biceps, and feeling those flex beneath your fingers meant almost instant trouble for you. B) He was holding you at the waist, meaning you could only push your upper body away from him, anyway. And since you weren’t especially flexible, that move meant that whatever part of you wasn’t moving away from him, was moving towards him, leaving you practically gasping in his arms.

“Bastard.” He grinned even wider when you said that. “What do you mean?”

“Sugar, when I say the power is out, I mean the power is out.” Sy cocked an eyebrow at you. “Means we have no electricity.” Jackass.

“I know what it means, dick,” you sighed, “how? Why? God, this is a terrible day. I’m wet – and not in a good way - and I’m cold.”

“You’re always cold.” He wasn’t wrong – in fact he was very much right – but that didn’t mean he had to say it like that. Or at all. One minute you were in the hallway, faking a tantrum, the next you were scooped up in Sy’s arms. He carried you to the living room, which was bathed in warm light.

“Told ya-“ He didn’t finish his sentence – he couldn’t, with your mouth pressed firmly on his. Part of you had kissed him because you didn’t want him to ‘told you so’ you about the fireplace, and part of you because this was secretly extremely romantic.

“What’d I do to deserve that?” Sy laughed after you stopped kissing him.

“Nothing,” you said innocently. He put you down on the couch in front of the fire and then disappeared, not replying to your questions about where he was going.

After a while, he returned with a towel and a mischievous look on his face.

“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” he said, grinning ear to ear. He threw you the towel and you immediately started doing damage control on your hair while Sy took care of the buttons of your blouse pretty quickly. You were glad he wasn’t dragging this out, because even in front of the fire, you were still shivering in your wet clothes. “Christ, baby, you’re soaked all the way through, ain’tcha?” He sounded amused, which you didn’t appreciate.

Your bra quickly followed your blouse, and of course Sy considered his mouth the perfect place to warm up your freezing nipples. You didn’t protest, of course, but it was typical. And effective, you had to give him that. His tongue circled one of your nipples while his hands moved on to your pants, taking them off about as smoothly as possible for soaked skinny jeans, taking your panties down with them. Even without your wet clothes, it was still pretty cold. The towel was soaked from drying your hair with it, and offered no solace in this particular scenario.

“Hand me that,” you said, reaching for the thick blanket that hung over the back of the sofa. Sy did grab it, but instead of giving it to you, he laid it out on the ground – over the very soft and ridiculously expensive rug you and Jules had picked out. You immediately remembered the argument she’d used to talk you into buyin that rug – something about how you were definitely going to have sex in front of that fireplace. Once again, Jules was absolutely too involved in your sex life – and you were somehow almost grateful for that. That being said, you were glad Sy was protecting your rug.

“I can hear you thinkin’, Sugar,” he said, “and I’ve seen the price tag on that rug. I ain’t got no plans to replace that anytime soon.” He certainly had a very good point there.

One swift move was all it took for Sy to pull you off the couch and into his arms. He laid you down on the blanket. The heat of the fire felt nice on your skin, which was still damp. You tugged at Sy’s shirt, and he took the hint immediately. You swore you’d never get used to the sight of Sy shirtless, and you took a minute to take in just how good he looked as he moved to lay back down beside you. Without thinking, you moved your hand to his neck, sliding it down to his pecs, tracing patterns through the coarse curls on his chest. Your eyes followed the trail of your hand even as a single finger drew a line down his abs until it reached the sweatpants he was wearing. You were only faintly aware of the fact that you were biting your lip when Sy brought it up.

“Stop bitin’ your lip, Sugar,” he said softly, an amused edge to the smooth baritone of his voice, “I wanna do that.” He pulled your lip from between your teeth with his thumb and moved in to kiss you. The kiss was a flurry of sensations: the heat of the fire on your back, warming your increasingly less clammy skin; the warmth radiating off Sy’s body; the slightly sticky feeling of your skin on his; his warm, large hand on your hip; the scruff of his beard scraping against your skin; his soft lips on yours; your bottom lip between his teeth… And then he was gone.

Well, not gone, just not there anymore, which upset you – until you realized exactly where he’d gone. He pulled on your legs, spreading them with ease, and didn’t wait a single second to get his face exactly where he wanted it. Alright, fine, you wanted it there, too.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day, Sugar,” he murmured against the inside of your thigh as he ran his fingers through your wet folds. At first it seemed like he planned on teasing the hell out of you, but then you heard him groan. “Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad.”

“Fuck, Sy,” you moaned when you felt his tongue on your skin. He chuckled at the sound of it, watching you closely as you threw your head back. How was he this good at finding just the right spot? “That’s it, right there.” The words were mostly lost in shameless moans as he took your breath away. Fuck, you were sure you would never get tired of this. Every flick of his tongue dragged you to new heights, and the few times you were brave enough to meet his eyes – which really never seemed to stop looking up at you – you could see the mischief in them. He was definitely up to something, and you didn’t like it one bit. Oh, hell, who were you kidding? Yes you did. You loved it. It didn’t take much, just a few more well thought out moves, and you were falling, screaming his name, clutching at the blanket you were laying on. As always, he stayed with you the whole way down, but this time, when you got there, he didn’t stop. He held your squirming hips in place, ignored your begging and kept going. You didn’t have a prayer at making him stop. The second one came easily, by the third you had tears in your eyes and by the time the fourth rolled around, they were streaming down your face. He really had to drag the next one out of you, and you secretly cursed him and his godly tongue game the whole way through it.

“Stop, Sy,” you begged when he still wouldn’t stop after your fifth orgasm, “I can’t… Please stop.” You were entirely out of breath, sobbing, and sensitive. There was absolutely no way you could take any more.

You sighed in relief when his face disappeared from between your legs, only to gasp loudly when Sy pulled you up and put you on your knees, bending your upper body over the seat of the couch. His beard tickled your neck and you felt his breath on your ear. Rough fingertips dug into your ass with brutal force before letting go abruptly. You felt his fingers between your legs, and gasped when he pushed – ‘shoved’ was probably a more apt description – two of them into you.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, baby,” he rasped in your ear. His voice was dripping with pure lust, and a low growl escaped every time he breathed out. God, you’d learned he could be rough, but he was always somewhat civilized about it. Not tonight, though. You threw your hips back against his fingers and moaned, which made Sy chuckle. “What’s got you so needy, Sugar?” Oh, how you wanted to hate him for that, but you just couldn’t. Your answer to his question was a pathetic moan – there simply wasn’t anything else available in your brain anymore. At first you’d thought you couldn’t take any more, and you couldn’t have been more wrong. Your whole body was on fire, screaming for him, and all your brain could come up with were moans and whines that sounded so desperate you couldn’t help but judge yourself for them. Tomorrow. You’d judge yourself for that tomorrow. Or not at all, who cares. Sy pulled his fingers out as suddenly as he’d pushed them in, and used his hand to deliver a very firm smack to your ass, instead. You shrieked. It didn’t hurt, per se – not in a bad way, at least, but you were definitely startled by it. Sy made it very clear that he expected an answer to his question.

“You, dammit,” you grunted, and your answer was rewarded with a sharp pinch.

“What do you want?”

“Same answer,” you tried, but of course he was going to make you say it. “You, Sy.”

He pushed all the way into you with ease, and then paused to allow you to get used to him and the position you were in. He started slow, moving at a glacial pace that had you cursing and almost begging for him to go harder – and then all bets were off. A hand pushed between your shoulder blades, pinning you to the couch, and his hips slammed into your ass at an unrelenting pace. “Fuck!” After the fourth or fifth time saying it, you briefly wondered if you should check whether or not you even knew any other words anymore, but decided against it – because that would sound very ridiculous. Sy’s thrusts got harder, and your screams got louder as they did. You knew there wasn’t anyone around to hear you, and even if there was, the rain would do a good job obscuring any sounds that came from the two of you, but you still grabbed a pillow off the couch and buried your face in it. Over the past weeks, you’d asked Sy a few times to not go easy on you, and you thought he hadn’t, but this? This was absolutely fucking ridiculous. At some point, your own hand found its way between your legs, and you vaguely heard Sy laugh in the background.

“You good?” he asked, now also out of breath.

“Yes… yes…” You repeated the word several more times, and then you couldn’t even manage that anymore. It felt like you were flying – and then like you were falling, and the world moved fast and slow at the same time, and it was just wonderful. Sy fucked you through orgasm number six with his brutal rhythm, until your clenching muscles became his undoing.

Sy, as pragmatic as ever, used your wet clothes to clean both of you off a bit. ‘They had to go in the laundry, anyway.’ A fair point, and how lovely of him to offer taking the laundry off your hands this weekend. He couldn’t quite laugh at that joke – in fact, it earned you another smack on your ass.

“Why?” you asked semi-frustratedly as you rubbed your behind. He had big hands and a lot of strength, and he hurt you a little.

“I like the way it jiggles,” he answered as he pulled you into his chest. As you lay there in front of the fire, half draped over Sy’s massive body, basking in the afterglow of sex and six glorious orgasms, you slowly became aware of your surroundings again; the soft blanket beneath you – no doubt also overdue for a round of laundry – and the warmth of the fire on your back. Unconsciously, you snuggled closer to Sy, who pulled your leg over his hips, making sure you were nice and close to him. He looked at you and stroked a stray curl out of your face. He hummed contently.

“This is kinda romantic,” he said with a grin on his face.

“Sy, for fuck’s sake,” you laughed, “absolutely nothing about what we just did was romantic.”

[keanureevesisbae]

what a man 🤤

Part 18

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 17 🍂 Part 19

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, p-in-v sex, (accidental) period sex, mentions of blood (combined with period sex? shocker...), praise kink situations and dirty talking Sy (mild), and some general awkwardness and unreasonable hormonal yelling.

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: @keanureevesisbae there you go, babygirl, more of your fave. I still owe up until 20... Strange...

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

The floors you couldn’t have cared less about, but this bathroom. It was everything you had hoped it would be and included a shower that was a lot less cramped when you tried to fit twice the conventional amount of people in it. Patrick and Sy had worked really hard to get it done before the end of the week, and had somehow succeeded, which was great. You had ended up giving Sy the go-ahead to go nuts on his ideas - provided he’d fix it if you hated it, which he had promised you with a cocky grin on his face – which meant you now had a very dark bathroom that felt a little too luxurious to have in your own house. Now, every time you set foot in the room, you smiled – usually. Today was not one of those days.

“Sy!” The tears that were in your eyes were apparently also in your voice, because Sy’s worried face appeared in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“Did you take the last Aleve?” Fuck!  How could you be out of painkillers right now?

“I didn’t,” Sy replied. That could have been a lie, but it also easily could have been the truth. Either way, he was the only living, breathing thing to take your frustration out on, and you were going to. Because you were in pain, bleeding, and hormonal. So, there.

“Are you sure?” Yeah, that didn’t sound friendly. You were definitely snapping at him. He didn’t deserve that. “Sorry.”

“Y’alright, Sugar?” He wrapped his arms around you – which was nice. You laid your head against his chest, trying to fight back the tears that were forming in your eyes. For the first time, it really dawned on you that you had moved in with Sy before your relationship had even reached the ‘peeing with the door open’-phase, and that that could be a problem. You wanted to tell him that your stomach felt as if someone was trying to cut his way through your guts with a butterknife, but suddenly he was just the brand-new boyfriend you didn’t feel needed to know about your period-related problems - or the fact that it was approaching at all.

“I’m fine, Sy,” you eventually said, “it’s just a headache.” You pushed against his chest so he would let you go and made your way over to your bed. Sy was right behind you, climbing in beside you and immediately pulling you against him, sneaking a hand underneath your pajamas. You could tell he found it odd you were wearing anything to bed, to begin with – and it probably was. When Sy’s hand found its usual place, securely holding your boob in place – not that it was going anywhere – you winced. It wasn’t pain, necessarily, although your boobs were definitely extra sensitive right now, but rather the extremely inconvenient side effect that you were… ‘super fucking horny’ would just about cover it.

“Sy, fuck off!” Again, you were well aware of the fact that this man had done absolutely nothing to deserve being snapped at like this.

“Y’know, Sugar,” he said, his voice grim, “the worst part of all this is that I think I might have a pretty decent idea of what’s goin’ on. But you’ll have my head if I dare to even suggest it.” He was probably right about that. Why was it so hard to talk about this?

“Sweetheart, I know you know what I’m tryin’ to say,” he said as he sighed, “will you just let me ask without killin’ me?” Now it was your turn to sigh, before reluctantly agreeing to what he was asking.

“Are you on your period, Sugar?” You winced when he said it – God knows why – and nodded, before realizing that was hardly an answer.

“No,” you said, “but my stomach and head are killing me, which means the festivities will start in two days.” You knew yourself; you were facing two days of this hell, then four days of extra-hell, and after that there was a slight chance you might function again. Sy moved his hand from your chest to your stomach, lingering and drawing patterns with his fingers until you grabbed his hand and moved it to the place where it hurt the most. He pulled you closer. The pressure of his hand felt so good it made you sigh with relief, especially when he started to rub the area of your stomach his hand was on. Soft moans crept over your lips as you finally forgot about the pain for a minute, but after a while you made him stop.

“Not good?” His voice was soft in your ear, his breath hot on your neck – that didn’t fucking help.

“So good,” you whined. When he heard your answer, Sy resumed his massage, and it felt so good that you didn’t want to stop him. After a while, you were squirming in his arms, grinding your ass into him. He chuckled softly.

“What do you want?” His tone was provocative, his question unnecessary, and you knew he was still going to make you answer.

“You,” you answered, plain and simple. There wasn’t much more to be said.

“I’m not in the mood for teasing, babe,” you said as Sy softly kissed your neck. To be perfectly honest, you were in the mood for letting Sy fuck you into the mattress so hard you couldn’t walk in the morning – but you didn’t dare to ask him for that. Nevertheless, you were horny, wet, and ready, and you needed this man inside of you now. Sy, in the spirit of the true gentleman that wouldn’t dream of denying a lady her wish, had you naked in a matter of seconds. His hand moved away from your stomach and settled in between your legs, where his fingers drew tight circles around your clit. He pulled you closer against him as he worked you closer and closer towards your climax. You felt his hard cock against your ass as he did. Eventually, the feeling of his teeth grazing you neck – exactly in that spot he knew drove you absolutely wild – was your undoing. He chuckled when you fell apart in his arms.

“Good girl,” he said softly as he gently guided you back down from your peak. Suddenly, you felt the head of his cock slide along your wet slit, and you threw your hips back, begging for him to finally thrust into you. A loud moan escaped you when he finally did, your walls clenching down hard on his cock as he moved inside of you.

“Wait,” you gasped when the second thrust hit you wrong. It took a few tries to find the perfect angle, but once you did, it was fantastic. Every time Sy pushed into you, he brushed past the right spot, and you tried your best to match his movements. Soon, you were not quite screaming his name, but moaning it very loudly nonetheless, as your own hand found its way between your legs and you worked your way towards your second orgasm, aided by the steady rhythm of Sy slamming into you.

“You gonna come for me, Sugar?” Sy growled in your ear. The words made you gasp – you were still not entirely used to the way he talked to you, but you were getting there… You answered him with a breathy ‘yeah’, which he replied to with another dark chuckle. “C’mon then, I want you to come all over my cock.” His words were enough to pull you over the edge.

“Fuck, Sugar,” he grunted as your clenching walls asked too much of his self-control, “you’re too fucking tight.” After both of you had taken a moment to catch your breath, Sy got out of bed to head out to the bathroom. You took a little while longer to move, because your cramps had the audacity to return.

“Alright, darlin’, now don’t freak out,” Sy said. He was apparently somehow unaware that that was probably the one sentence you didn’t use when you didn’t want someone to freak out, “but I think you may have started your period early.” Oh God, no! Nope, you were definitely freaking out. Or mortified. Was there really a difference? And if so, did it really matter which of the two you were right now? Of course it didn’t fucking matter! Fact of the matter was that you had just casually been bleeding all over your boyfriend’s dick, and that was… Well ‘awful’ may have just been the understatement of the century. You covered your head with the blankets in a hopeless attempt to hide from reality.

“Sugar, it don’t look like no crime scene, we’ll take care of it in the mornin’,” he said almost sternly, “right now we’re gonna take a shower, and then we’re just gonna go to sleep.” When Sy left for the bathroom, you stayed in bed until you heard the water turn on, and then you performed your own little inspection of the sheets. You had to admit he was right; it didn’t look like the scene of a double homicide – hell, you had more than once gotten more blood on a bath towel after shaving your legs – but you couldn’t shake the embarrassment you felt. That meant it was absolutely impossible to head into the bathroom; there was no way you could look Sy in the eye after this. Apparently, he had other plans, because he called for you twice, and then the door opened. If you’d ever get used to the sight of Sy in nothing but a towel – why did it have to hang so low on his hips? – you had no idea, but right now, you just froze. It was convenient for him; he just walked over to you and threw you over his shoulder like it was nothing.

“Put me down, please,” you groaned. This was even more embarrassing than the whole previous episode, and that was saying something. He did put you down; in the shower, and he didn’t seem intent on letting you go.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “and I’m sorry.”

“Sugar, you realize I seriously don’t give a damn, right?” No, as a matter of fact you hadn’t considered that option. Of course you could have deduced this from the laid back and practical way with which he’d reacted to this circus, but that was far too easy, right? Your answer must have been clear from the way you looked at him, because he continued, with a wicked grin on his face. “Honestly, if you were throwin’ any less of a fit about this, I’d suggest we go again.” You smacked him on the shoulder. “Sy!” Once again, he managed to make you laugh when you really didn’t think you were ever going to again. “Maybe next month.”

[keanureevesisbae]

i love domestic couples. i wish i was part of it lol

Part 17

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 16 🍂 Part 18

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: None, unless you consider tooth-rotting fluff a warning? There's probably some swearing.... Oh, and we're going through more remodeling. That deserves a warning.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: When your girl's day is not the it and you have another chapter linied up 😘 @keanureevesisbae enjoy some domestic bliss w/ your man. (I owe up to and including 20, jsyk)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

“I’m not entirely sure how me insulting the very core of his being ended in you two moving in together, but I’m happy it did.” Jules had spent a very long time that morning groveling, until you had finally decided it was enough. Sy had actually been more than happy to let her off the hook, but that just didn’t fly with you. Then again, Jules and Patrick were helping Sy move his stuff from the company warehouse to your place, which made up for whatever you felt she still needed to make up for. The boys were still on their way with the big stuff, which meant you and Jules had found some time for tea.

“You don’t think this is a ridiculous idea?” Despite being fairly sure that Sy was the love of your life, you still wondered if four months wasn’t too soon to take such a drastic step. You were entirely confident you’d never forgive yourself if you fucked this up for good.

Jules thought about that for a moment.

“No,” she said, “I think it’s a good idea. I handpicked this one for you, Lara.” You couldn’t deny that. Besides, even you were a long ways past pretending she hadn’t made a damn fine choice.

The guys finally arrived, and as it turned out, you and Jules could continue your lovely little tea party, because you were no use at all when it came to lifting couches. The dark leather of Sy’s vintage chesterfields went nicely with the deep blue you’d settled on for the wall behind the fireplace. It was cozy, but the large windows in the back wall prevented it from becoming too dark altogether. Jules looked around with an approving smile on her face as you watched the men move the sofa around – and occasionally gave instructions. You smiled. Jules telling the boys where to put things in your house was very on brand for her. It was also a good thing she was giving the exact instructions you would have, so you didn’t have to interrupt her.

The past week with Sy had been absolutely amazing. Most of it had been filled with making plans for the house, which included finally moving your bedroom upstairs…

“We could take my bed? It’s bigger,” Sy had suggested when you were going over the furniture you had between the two of you. It was true, but you had still found it unnecessary at first. He’d had to point out to you roughly seventy times that he hadn’t known you would only be sleeping in your new bed for around two months before the two of you would move in together – and honestly, if he had known, you wouldn’t have believed him if he had told you that from the beginning.

“We sleep on the same ninety centimeters,” you had said, “sorry, that’s…”

Sy finished your sentence before you could even start to do the math: “Three feet.” You had shrugged, assuming he was right – probably more so than you would have been, anyway. You had also secretly hoped that he would drop the subject, but he didn’t. In the end, you hadn’t been able to make any kind of a solid case against a bigger bed. The only problem was that it would be far too big for the room that was currently your bedroom. Sy’s suggestion had been to make your shared bedroom and the en-suite bathroom the next projects around the house, which you had agreed to. It would be nice to have a modern bathroom, not the provisionally repaired and still slightly disgusting – the kind that didn’t go away from cleaning – wreck you had been living with until now.

Luckily, Sy hadn’t been needed at work the entire week, and your bedroom had been blessed with painted walls and a floor that wasn’t beyond depressing.

“The floor looks amazing, Sy,” you had said as you walked into the room for the first time – carefully, because you were fairly sure Sy would have had your head if you had scratched it on day one.

“Are you sayin’ that ‘cause you think I wanna hear it, Sugar?” he’d asked with an impossibly big grin on his face. You had confirmed his suspicion when you rolled your eyes– you couldn’t really muster up more enthusiasm about a goddamn floor. That being said, you had definitely had to admit it looked better than before. It looked like it hadn’t been dead and buried underneath ugly carpet for God knows how long.

“Well, you’d be right, I do wanna hear it. Sandin’ the sumbitch down damn near cost me my back.” Of course, you had immediately offered to take care of that with a massage, knowing full well there was no way either of you would ever have been able to keep your hands off the other.  

The past days had been filled with disagreements on the colors of rugs, curtains, and paint. Moving in together meant a little bit of a clash between Sy’s taste for more dark and intense colors, and your preference for more neutral tones and a more feminine touch. Sy won your little squabble about the color of the bedroom – although black wasn’t technically a color – and now you were seriously considering giving him the green light to go dark for the bathroom as well, because you actually really liked the cozy feeling the dark walls gave you. Of course you made the mistake of telling him that, which made him slightly more arrogant than was useful when trying to negotiate other things, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like your man a lot cocky and a little bossy at times.

When it came to the furnishing of the bedroom, Sy felt it was absolutely necessary to badger you with the same old subject you’d said no to a million times; what to do with his TV. Or rather; what to do with your TV, since his was – once again – bigger, and therefore it made sense to put that one in the living room.

“Absolutely not, Sy,” you said for the millionth time that week, while cleaning the kitchen. Suddenly, an arm appeared on either side of you and he had you pinned in place against the counter.

“Why not, Sugar?” He sounded pouty. Why did he sound pouty? It didn’t suit him. It was cute, though – at least it could be, when you weren’t already on edge about having to clean your entire house several times a day because remodeling just did that.  

“Because, Sy, we don’t need a TV in our bedroom,” you said. Every time you found yourself using the words ‘our bedroom’, you got butterflies in your stomach. Right now, it was highly inconvenient, because you were trying to sound serious.

“But…” That was it. You turned around between his arms, which was difficult, because he held you against the counter pretty tightly, and looked up at him.

“Jonathan George Syverson, if you want your dick sucked in that bedroom, ever again, you’ll listen to me. There will be no TV in our bedroom.” You made sure to carefully emphasize every last word in that sentence. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes ma’am, abundantly.” End of discussion.

[keanureevesisbae]

i love the dynamic these four have. i want this in the future.

Part 15

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 14 🍂 Part 16

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: None, unless you consider tooth-rotting fluff a warning? There's definitely some swearing. But there's always swearing when I'm the one writing...

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: @keanureevesisbae I officially owe 18, now, too! Isn't it great? (It secretly is!) Here you go, my dearest! ❤️❤️❤️ Keep on keeping on!

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

“How was your swim?” Julie asked when you were back on dry land.

“Fantastic,” you said, putting a lot of unnecessary emphasis on the word. Sy chuckled as he put his arm around you and pulled you into his side. He kissed your head. You always liked it when he did that: it reminded you of how big he was. Not that you needed any reminders of that, but they were welcome, anyway.

Jules and Pat had taken the liberty to start making dinner – which was nice, because your adventure in the lake had made you hungry. You sat next to Sy, who kept every hand he could spare on you at all times. Apparently, both of you mourned the loss of the incredible intimacy from before. Every part of you burned with desire to be that close to him again, but you couldn’t. Luckily, Jules and Patrick weren’t too great at keeping their hands to themselves, either. As the sun set, you were able to forgive each other the occasional moment – even if they were filled with just a bit too much of the kind of touching that was strictly inappropriate in the presence of others.

“Sy, this is…” You had never seen that many stars in your entire life. Not in one night, anyway. You had been here, laying on the ground, nestled against Sy’s body, for nearly an  hour – or so you assumed. A quick peek at your phone confirmed your feeling.

“Amazing, right?” He pulled you close to his side.

“I could stay here like this forever,” you said, barely paying attention to what was happening around you. The sky looked absolutely magical.

“Me too,” Sy said very softly as he turned on his side, “but you have to come with me in a few minutes.” He sounded serious. You peeled your eyes away from the sparkling tapestry above your heads.

“No, I want to look at the stars with you.” You almost sounded like a little kid, but you didn’t care. It was way too pretty; you couldn’t leave!

“I have that deal with Pat, remember,” he whispered even lower, “I can explain tomorrow.” He turned back on his back, and the two of you enjoyed the last few minutes of stargazing. Sy got up way too soon, and he hauled you to your feet. You started to protest, but he put a hand over your mouth and asked you to trust him.

“Alright, we’re done for the day,” Sy said as he slowly started to walk back to the tents. You followed him, paying close attention to where you put your feet. It was still a big mystery to you why you had to go so early, but you trusted Sy.

Getting into the tent was a hassle. Somehow, even with your height – or lack thereof – it was impossible to not stumble over your feet, and after that over every single one of your limbs. Somehow.

“Sugar, keep it down,” Sy said. He chuckled softly. Somehow, your six-foot-tall boyfriend managed to put on pajamas without tripping over anything, and got into bed without injuring either of you. You changed as quickly as could be considered safe, and crawled in next to Sy. He was warm, as always, which was a good thing, because you only now realized that it had actually been quite chilly, lying on the ground outside, gazing up at the sky for almost an hour. Sy wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was weird, being in bed with him like this – and by that you meant: not naked. Apparently Sy thought so too; His hand slipped underneath your sweater within a minute of lying down, and grabbed hold of your boob. He hummed when you laughed, clearly asking a question.

“Sy, why do you always do that?” you said as you tried to get your smile under control.

He mumbled a non-answer against your neck, where his face was buried: “Sugar, just let me hold ‘em, wouldya?”

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just asking why you do it,” you laughed.

“They’re pretty, ‘n soft, ‘n mine,” he mumbled before he yawned. ‘Mine’… The word bounced through your head. The past three months – mostly the past six weeks – had taught you that Sy could be possessive at times. You didn’t always like it, like that time he flew off the handle in public at some guy who was just looking at you, but in bed he owned you and there was nothing you could – or wanted to – do about it. Sy’s breath was hot in your neck and his body made you feel warm and comfortable as you started to drift to sleep.

Suddenly, you heard a high-pitched noise. Shrieking? Screaming? Was that Jules? Your eyes were open and you were wide awake again. Had something bad happened? Sy’s lips pulled into a smile against the skin of your neck, and his lips lightly touched you for a soft kiss.

“’s nothin’, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice thick with drowsiness. Nothing? How the hell could he possibly know that? You would have gotten up to go and take a look, but Sy was holding you tight, and his grip only became tighter. Part of you prepared to yell, but that seemed like a bad idea if there was potentially a crazy axe murderer or something outside. Okay, maybe a crazy axe murderer would have caused a bit more noise than one single shrieking sound, but still.

“T’morrow, Sugar,” Sy was seconds from drifting away, but that wouldn’t mean you’d be able to get out of his grip easily… You calmed down a bit when you heard Pat and Jules return to the tents, laughing.

“Shh, they’re asleep,” you heard Pat whisper. It was true for Sy; he seemed to be out. You, however, suffered through every second of what happened next. There was absolutely no way they couldn’t fuck quieter. No way. If you had managed this afternoon with Sy, then Jules should have no problems with Patrick. Alright that was a little mean to Pat, he was cute, too. But he was no Sy, so could Jules shut it, maybe? You opened your mouth to say something when they got even louder to the point where it wasn’t just bad etiquette, but plain motherfucking rude, but to your surprise Sy put a hand over your mouth.

“It’s just one night, Sugar,” he said to you. You huffed and pulled the sleeping bag you were sharing higher so you could cover your ears, but you couldn’t sleep until they were finally done.

“Lara, wake up! Get up! Now!” Excuse you? Who the hell did Jules think she was? She was lucky it was already getting pretty hot in the tent, because if this had been a house, you would have stayed in bed until deep into the afternoon! She kept you up all night with the most disgusting sex noises ever, and now she had the audacity to summon you out of bed? Hell no! Never in your life had you gotten up so quickly. Someone needed to tell this girl she was way out of line, and that someone was going to be you, goddammit!

“Jules!” you yelled angrily as you pulled the zipper of the tent up, “what the fuck is wrong with y-“ You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, because as soon as you were outside and had put yourself into a normal upright position, you were faced with Julie. On her face was the biggest smile ever, and she was holding her hand up.

“Are- What?” You grabbed her hand. “Are you serious?” When your eyes shot up to meet hers, you were pretty sure there were tears in them. It didn’t matter: from the looks of it, Jules was on the verge of crying, too.

“Yep. You’re looking at the future Mrs. Julie Dawson!” Alright, there was a slight possibility that last night could be forgiven.

“Jules… Oh my god! Congratulations!” You hugged Jules, and the two of you stood there for a while. When you finally let each other go, you saw Sy and Pat standing to the side. You hadn’t even heard Sy come out of the tent… He congratulated Jules on her engagement – really, just thinking that was a trip on its own – and you smiled at him.

“Oh, Lara?” You turned around to face Jules again. “Maid of honor, yes?” Was she… Really? You? Yeah, ok, that was that; you were crying – and last night could be considered forgotten. After a while, the hugging was done, the tears were dried and you were getting hungry. Sy announced he was going for a walk just as you were about to ask Jules about breakfast. There was something in his voice you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“What was up with Sy?” you asked Jules after Patrick had left you both to go after Sy.

“I think he’s a little bit jealous,” Jules said softly, and somehow you believed her immediately. “He was already the last of his family to get married, and now the last of his closest cousins… I mean, Pat has a younger brother, but he’s sixteen right now.”

“Wait, but he’s the eldest, right?” You were a little surprised that all of his younger siblings were married.

“Yep, his youngest sister is twenty. And she’s been married for two years. Two kids.” Jules looked at you and laughed as your mouth fell open. Married at eighteen? Two kids at twenty? No thank you! I mean, not that you weren’t already a long way past that point, but still.

“Does Sy want kids?” you asked quietly after a while. There was no reason to keep your voice down, but the question felt too important to ask point-blank.

“Girl, he never mentioned that? Three months and he never… God, Sy, what are you doing?” Jules shook her head. “Do you want kids?”

“I mean, I never really thought about it much…” That was true. “It was always very much a ‘not yet’ kind of thing.” Also true. “I guess I could see it happening with him…” Big fat lie. There was nothing – absolutely nothing – ‘guess I could see it happening’ about this. Your ovaries practically exploded if you so much as dared to think about having Sy’s baby. In a few years, though, when you were ready.

[keanureevesisbae]

my own old comments are gold. i am dying

Part 14

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 13 🍂 Part 15

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, unprotected sex,

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Releasing the next chapter because Sy smut really is the best thing to read before bed, and mygirl @keanureevesisbae deserves it! (And just so you know; I almost owe her 18, too. So we're just gonna keep going...)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990

“Ow! Fuck!” You weren’t made for hiking. Or camping. Or generally just being outdoors.

“What’s wrong, Sugar?” Sy looked back at you.

“My foot is stuck.” Why did it always have to be your foot? And why did it have to be stuck? You looked up at Sy, who was laughing. Of course he was, jerk. Somehow, you managed to get your foot out from between the roots of the tree they belonged to. No, the first few hours of your first ever camping trip hadn’t been able to convince you that this could be fun. In order for that to happen, it would have to get a lot more… fun. It was a short walk back to the clearing where your tents were. Seeing those again made you feel the urge to kick them. You didn’t, because you were afraid they’d collapse, and you would have to go through all of that again, and that was something you definitely didn’t want to do. While setting up camp, you’d decided you definitely weren’t outdoorsy. In fact, you were barely so much as outdoors-ish.

The whole debacle had involved almost taking Sy’s eye out with a tent pole (accidentally), Patrick making a bad joke about how you shouldn’t have to take revenge for Sy poking you and Julie hitting Patrick over the head with a tent pole (intentionally). In the end, you had to switch with Patrick and finish putting up their tent with Jules, because Sy tried to explain how everything worked, but couldn’t do so without talking to you like you were five years old. At least, that was your interpretation of his tone – Julie later told you that he was really just trying to help, and carefully suggested that you may have been a bit too embarrassed to hear that. She may have had a point, but that didn’t change much about your experience.

Now that you were finally sitting down, you were starting to like this. It was a really beautiful place.

“Is it always this quiet?” you asked curiously. Somewhere this pretty was bound to attract more visitors, right? It was as if Sy could read your mind.

“It’s private land. Belongs to a friend of our dads. He’s fine with us camping here as long as we don’t make a mess of the place, and we give him a call upfront,” he explained while he stared out over the small lake.

“That’s mostly so he won’t accidentally shoot us,” Patrick said. Both he and Sy laughed at the expression on your face.

“Excuse me?”

“He likes to hunt on the property.” That was a disgustingly simple explanation to you, and your face must have shown that because Sy and Pat were still laughing.

“Who likes to hunt?” you said, voice dripping with revulsion. Jules made a face at you while subtly pointing at the men who were with you, and your eyes went wide.

“Not for sport, Jules, you know that,” Sy said to her. He looked and sounded annoyed. It took the guys a while to answer all of your questions, and you ultimately concluded that – although you were glad that Sy wasn’t a ‘hunting trophies in the living room’ kind of guy – the shock value of finding out was bigger than your aversion to the hunting. Besides, there was a tiny piece of you that definitely felt something at the thought of Sy… You tried not to think about that…

“Wait, you said he likes to hunt on the property…” There was confusion on your face. “How big is the property?” Apparently, the man owned the lake you were currently looking at. And a whole lot of land around it.

“What can I say, Sugar,” Sy said to you as he laughed at your continuous surprise, “everything’s bigger in Texas.”

You spent the afternoon reading and writing. It had been a while since you had actually used pen and paper to write, but it was nice. The view of the lake was amazing, it was sunny and hot – which made it hard to concentrate, because Sy didn’t feel the need to keep his shirt on. After a while of trying to focus on your writing, failing, and letting your thoughts drift freely while watching Sy, it didn’t take much for him to convince you to join him for a swim. Pat left as you walked towards Sy, which confirmed any inkling you had about this being a setup. The water was so clear you could see to the bottom, and the temperature was nice. Sy was on his way over to you, and you met him halfway, which seemed to surprise him.

“You’re a good swimmer, Sugar,” he said. Did he actually sound impressed? Were you actually a good swimmer? No one had ever called you that before…

“I’m Dutch,” you said, “they won’t let you stay in the country if you aren’t.” With a few strokes, you were out of his reach, leaving a bewildered Sy behind. You made your way around the rocks that obscured part of the lake from view at your campsite and climbing up on one of them, feet dangling over the edge. The afternoon sun was hot, but the breeze over the lake caused goosebumps to appear on your wet skin. Just as you had closed your eyes to bask in the warmth for a bit, you felt hands near your hips. You had struggled to climb onto the rock you were sitting on, Sy pushed himself up with ease, one hand on either side of your hips. He kissed you quickly before dropping himself back down into the water. He must have been standing on a ridge of the rocks you hadn’t been able to reach, because he raised himself up a little and folded his arms over your thighs. You ran a hand through his wet hair. It was longer now, and it started to show hints of curls, especially when it was wet, which really made you hope the buzzcut was history for good. Impatient hands suddenly grabbed your knees and pushed them apart so his broad chest could fit in between them. Sy wrapped his arms around you and laid his head down on your thigh. It was nice, having his head in your lap, stroking his hair, taking in the sun… You hoped the two of you would spend some time like this, but teeth on your thigh and the mischievous eyes that looked up at you proved he had different plans.

“Sy, no,” you protested quietly, pointing in the direction of your tents. Sy smirked at you as he raised a finger to his lips, gesturing you to be quiet. “What if they come here?”

“They won’t,” Sy said as he pulled you closer to the edge of the rock, careful not to hurt you on the relatively smooth but still gritty surface, “I have a deal with Patrick.”

You didn’t get a lot of time to wonder what kind of deal – let alone ask him – because the soft kisses he pressed to the inside of your thigh distracted you. Sy was barely touching you, and you were already struggling to keep quiet – but so was he. His beard tickled your skin as he explored your thighs with his mouth, careful not to leave marks on you, though you were pretty sure he secretly wanted to. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as he pressed his thumb against your clit. Without thinking, you opened your legs wider, giving Sy full access. You rolled your hips into his thumb, already desperate for release, which made him chuckle softly. The pressure on your clit disappeared, and you whined. It wasn’t long until a finger worked its way into your bikini bottoms and lightly brushed along your slit, which had you shivering.

Deep breaths were the only thing keeping you from moaning loudly every time something Sy did sent jolts of electricity down your spine and into your core. There was just no way you weren’t absolutely dripping right now. The possibility of being caught – or even just heard, because you were pretty sure Pat and Jules already knew exactly what you were up to – added to the excitement. Sy finally decided he had enough of teasing you and pulled your bikini bottoms to the side. You leaned back on your elbows, trying not to overthink the fact that he had a very clear view of your exposed pussy right now. As he pushed his finger between your folds, he kept his eyes locked on yours. A smug smile spread across his face as his digit slipped into you with ease. You let out a soft moan when the second finger slid in just as easily. For a short but heavenly moment, he pumped his fingers into your core. You were surprised when you were met with that familiar feeling you knew would eventually grow into an orgasm – which made it all the more infuriating when Sy’s fingers retreated.

He raised himself up again, leaning over you to kiss you, dripping water all over you in the process. It startled you; the sun had warmed your skin nicely, and the water felt cold - and tickled as the little droplets rolled off you. The kiss was deep and passionate, and you whined as Sy pulled back way too soon. He looked at you, and his voice was low and deep when he spoke.

“C’mon, baby, tell me what you want.” He shook his head when you tried to put a hand against his chest to push him down. “I wanna hear ya say it.” Fuck. Your stomach was suddenly filled with a tornado of butterflies. Much to your surprise, it made you even hornier than you already were.

“Sy, I-I,” you couldn’t finish your sentence. Sy was no longer looking at you, but had focused his attention on your neck and chest, softly kissing your exposed skin and biting your nipples through the fabric of your bikini. He paused for a moment to answer you, shaking his head slowly as he did.

“Sugar, are ya gonna make me miss out on eatin’ this sweet li’l cunt o’ yers, just ‘cause ya can’t use your words?” The way he said it did something to you. What he said did something to you.

“Please, baby,” you whispered, on the verge of begging, “I want you to eat me out.” As soon as the words were out, his lips were on yours.

It was a brief kiss, followed by the next thing you had never imagined you would find so extremely exciting: “Atta girl, Sugar.”

He disappeared back into the water, and you immediately felt two hands on the back of your thighs, pushing them further apart. His tongue was on you in no time, focusing solely on your clit. Sy’s steady rhythm had you flat on your back within a minute, squirming and covering your mouth with your hands to keep the noise you made to a minimum. You turned back to taking deep breaths as Sy continued to push you towards your climax. You lasted longer than you had expected; each time you were close to coming, your breath pulled you back down again. It was a delightfully frustrating dance of ebb and flow. Of course you couldn’t last forever, and a little extra pressure from Sy’s tongue gently nudged you into bliss.

“Whoa,” you whispered. This was different. Normally, orgasms were falling, breaking down into waves of pleasure that crashed back into reality with brutal force. This was much more like sliding down a steep slope – much less violent but every bit as intense. Sy’s mouth stayed on you until your body relaxed completely. Then, you felt water rain down on you again, and you opened your eyes to find his face hovering over yours.

“Was that good?” It was a redundant question, but very sweet, nonetheless. You didn’t speak – you couldn’t. Instead, you just nodded, which was enough of an answer for him. He kissed you again, gently and slowly, while you took your time coming all the way back down. Reality hit you hard, starting with a very acute awareness of Sy’s hard-on pushed up against your naked pussy. Your entire body instantly screamed for one thing, and one thing only.

“Sy, I want you,” you murmured into his mouth, “now.” He groaned and rolled his hips into you when you said it.

“Can’t,” he breathed, “condoms.”

“I’m on the pill.” That, and you knew you could trust him. You studied his face as he considered your request: His eyes weren’t able to hide his desire – not that his cock didn’t give that away – and the slow-spreading smile gave away his decision before he said it out loud. He let himself sink down again and, from the looks of it, found somewhere he could stand.

“C’mere,” he said as he reached for your hand. You followed him into the water and let him pull you into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He struggled for a moment to position himself like this, but you soon felt his cock pushing against your entrance.

“Tell me if it don’t feel alright, Sugar,” he murmured as he pressed his lips against your neck, “water ain’t ideal.”

You couldn’t deny that; it definitely made things on the outside a bit less slick, but Sy took his time and moved slowly until he was all the way inside of you. His moans were different, somehow, restrained. You suspected he would have been louder than usual if the circumstances didn’t force you to stay quiet. Actually, you didn’t suspect it, you were fairly sure; your reaction was the exact same. There was something about this; not the fact that you were in water, or even because you were out in the open, but because this was skin on skin, and something about that was really intimate. Sy kept his thrusts shallow and his movements slow so he wouldn’t hurt you, and you used your legs to meet him with every move. After a while, you started to wonder if this was even doing anything for him. It took a moment to gather the courage to ask him. The semi-apologetic smile said enough; it really wasn’t. Sy wouldn’t be Sy, however, if he wasn’t quick to tell you that it didn’t matter.

“You know I want it to feel good for you, too,” you said softly as you stroked his cheek. If there was anything you had proven over the past four weeks, it was that you cared about his pleasure as much as he did about yours.

“I know, sweetheart,” he grunted, “alright, tell me if somethin’s off.” His pace became faster, and his thrusts harder.

“Oh fuck, Sy,” you said softly as he laughed. The way he was fucking you right now made your head spin. You buried your face in his neck, fighting to keep your moans low while he kept going. Finally, his breathing changed, which told you he was close. He kissed you, the sound of his moans muffled by your mouth as he filled you up with cum. After a moment, Sy wanted to pull out, but you stopped him. There was nu reason to, now, no hurry.

“No, stay.” It sounded almost sleepy when you said it, and you wrapped your arms and legs tighter around Sy. He held you for a while, but eventually he suggested you should make your way back to the tents. He was right, because apparently, your friends had started to miss you.

“Hey lovebirds, get back here!”