poledancingdinos

[poledancingdinos]

What’s Mine Is Yours Masterpost

Summary: Geralt has knows since the trials that, unlike other omegas, he will never become pregnant, never raise pups and live a normal life. But after a close call finds him and Jaskier in bed together, he discovers he was wrong about that assumption.

Chapter one || Geralt has a rough contract Chapter two || They fuck  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Chapter three || Geralt and Jaskier separate for a while” Chapter four || Geralt works a job in Lyria/something feels off Chapter five || Geralt cures the werewolf Chapter six || Geralt finds out what’s wrong Chapter seven || Geralt tries to cope with the news of his pregnancy Chapter eight || Geralt and Jaskier reunite Chapter nine || Jaskier insists upon taking care of Geralt Chapter ten || Geralt and Jaskier discusss what comes next Chapter eleven || Geralt and Jaskier travel to Lettenhove Chapter twelve || Geralt and Jaskier find out they’re having twins Chapter thirteen || Geralt adjusts to the idea of twins Chapter fourteen || Geralt relaxes before the birth of the pups Chapter fifteen || The pups are born Chapter sixteen || Jaskier claims Geralt, they look forward to their life together

[read it on ao3]

[poledancingdinos]

By Tomorrow - Part 1

British Isles, 1196

Henry, the stoic heir apparent to Clan Cavill, travels to England to retrieve his cousin from her home there. While there, he impulsively accepts an unexpected opportunity to anger is sworn enemy, Laird Maclean, by marrying the woman meant for the laird’s son. Now a pawn in someone else’s game, Sybil sets out to understand the mystery surrounding Henry’s childhood and the cause of his endless feud.

Masterlist

“I swear I’ve had the smell of shit in my nose since we crossed the border,” Owen said, wrinkling his nose. 

Henry grunted in agreement with his friend. He had no interest in coming to England in the first place, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He was heir apparent to Clan Cavill, and Catherine was his cousin. Of course he would be the one to travel to her home in England to bring her back to Scotland now that her husband of two years was gone.

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[poledancingdinos]

(Eskel & Geralt, Eskel/Geralt if you squint; young wolves, first time with potions, Eskel's Canonical Strength with Signs; an interpretation. Rated: T)

His skull felt tight. Like it was closing in around his mind, a vice crushing his thoughts, his consciousness. The thundering rush in his ears made him feel dizzy and the heat under his skin made him feel skittish. His heart beat an erratic rhythm against his rib cage, and Eskel felt like he was spinning, but stuck. Rooted to the spot as the world crashed in around him, control slipping through his fingers, torn away by some unseen force.

Yet, beneath it all—beneath the terror, the burning—there was a rush. Something gleeful writhed around in his chest, desperate to get free even though he tried to press it down. Something wanted to burst out of him, break through his grip, burst forth into the world and—

They had said Thunderbolt was different from the others. It lets the monster out good and proper, Varin had slurred around the chipped rim of his mug the previous night. Some hate it, most deal with it, and then some sick fucks enjoy it a little too much. At that, Varin glanced at the large sword hanging over the fireplace. The one that Master Barmin used on those that weren’t safe to be let out on the Path.

The uneasiness had roiled in Eskel’s stomach for the rest of the evening until it had erupted in the bowl under his bed and Gweld had thrown a pillow at him in disgust—learn to hold yer liquor, Skel, fu-u-uck—before shoving his head under the remaining one.

Was Eskel a sick fuck? Was he one of those that they’d put down before letting the rest of his cohort onto the Path? Was that feeling—? Was it—?

“—he’s grunting like an animal—“

“Give him time. Thunderbolt’s always the hardest. Lad’s doing fine.”

There were others in the room; Master Vesemir, as Eskel belonged to his crop of trainees, and more than one mage. They were scared of what Thunderbolt would do to him. Eskel could smell their fear on the air even now, along with the fetid shit from the lavvies, the cooking meat in the kitchens, all of it made his stomach roil once more. The acidic, bitter taste hit the back of his throat, and every muscle pulled taut. Their muttering grew louder, bouncing around his head until it was an unintelligible crescendo.

“He’s losing control…”

“Easy, easy, let him go, let him try.” 

The second voice sounded less certain. The chattering grew louder, louder. The voices crushed in on him, pressing down, tightening the grip around his head. Heat. Pressure. Burning. 

The fire flooded down from his head, from his chest, swept down his arms, and swirled around his palms. Flames lapped his flesh, singed the hairs on the back of his arms; molten dragon fire poured from his palms.

“He’s—that’s—this needs to stop—“

“No, no, wait. Wait!”

A familiar voice. The first that didn’t feel like a lash against his mind, but a familiar caress. A voice that had drawn him out of the stupor following the Trial of Dreams. A voice that had rescued him from every nightmare, every fear, every uncertainty, since Eskel had first stumbled through the tall gates of the keep, bare foot and wide-eyed, clutching his only possession to his chest; a moth-eaten bedroll. 

Two strong hands shoved against his chest, insistent, repeated. “Wait! Wait, don’t! I can get him back!” 

The shoves became harder. Eskel wanted to shout out, to tell the voice that it wasn’t safe, that something was tearing it out of him and it would consume them both. But whatever it was, whatever darkness, had secured its grip around his throat and the words faded before they had even been born. All he could do then was surrender.

But if he surrendered, the beast would get free. It would devour him and everyone in its Path. Like hellfire.

“Eskel, c’mon! C’mon, move, you big oaf! Move!”

Oaf. 

Two boys splashing in the lake, Eskel cannon-balling and creating a tidal wave, “ahh, you coulda drowned me!” said in jest, a light-hearted slap of water, “big oaf,” said with love, with warmth, with trust. Trust that Eskel would never hurt him. Could never. 

“C’mon, Eskel. Come back to me. Don’t you dare fuckin’--don’t you dare leave me, Eskel.”

A hand in his as they stared at a tall, foreboding door, their fates unknown. Those spindly fingers, callused from swords and chores, squeezed as firmly as they could. “Don’t you dare leave me,” whispered, desperate and fearful, and Eskel squeezed back, “I won’t.” 

A promise kept. 

Eskel went lax. He stumbled. His back hit a door which gave way behind him. The ground underfoot became slippery, like mineral grease on a steel blade.

A rush of cold flooded in, washing the brimstone away, water drops like pins against the searing heat of his skin. He fell. They fell. Because, just as the cold stone connected with Eskel’s rear, a heavy, warm weight fell on his front. 

The pin needles turned to rain drops.

It was raining.

Hot breath puffed over his lips, a solid pressure against his forehead, a brush against his nose.

Eskel opened his eyes. 

The faded grey light melted away, and two orbs of melted gold gazed into his. “There you are.”

Geralt.

“Don’t speak, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Eskel must have said it out loud. He leaned back and looked down. There was steam rising from his hands, hot where they rested against the slick flagstones of the courtyard. There were blurry figures standing in the doorway of the laboratory, the colours of their robes melded into one, anxious voices swimming in and out.

His body felt alien, detached. Like he was pulling it back on after someone else had worn it. “What… happened?” he managed to rasp, the words flowing from his throat like gravel.

Geralt took his face in wet fingers, tips tracing the trail of boyish stubble to the hinge of his jaw. “Nearly had a bigger storm than the mages predicted. It’s fine though. Thunder’s always followed by rain, right?” 

Geralt pressed his forehead to Eskel’s again, they shared the same deep breaths, grounded in each other, their hammering pulses slowing, quietening in the lull of comfort. 

Eskel knew then that Geralt had saved his life. If Eskel couldn’t control himself on Thunderbolt, he wouldn’t be leaving Kaer Morhen. It was too much of a risk. 

“You could have… I could have…” Eskel choked out, the vision of Geralt consumed in flames of his making flooding his mind.

“You could never,” Geralt replied, his voice a soft, the touch on Eskel’s face wandering, as if seeking reassurance that he was still intact. “Not you. Not ever.”

Eskel could see himself in Geralt’s wide eyes. Black hair plastered to his skull, the rain dripping from his wide brow and nose, his own eyes sunken with fear. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “Nothin’, nothin’s wrong with you, you’re jus’ Eskel. We’ll get through this. You and me. Like always. We’ll try again, and… and you’ll get it. Then we’ll, we’ll walk out together on the Path, like we always planned, yeah?”

Eskel could hear the hope in Geralt’s voice, but he could see the fear in his eyes–fear of losing Eskel, fear of going it all alone, fear that he wouldn’t be strong enough to get them through–and Eskel knew he couldn’t fail.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, letting his eyes fall shut so he could bask in the chill of the rain and the gentle warmth of Geralt’s touch. “Together.”

[poledancingdinos]

Scruffy august doodles or something idk

[poledancingdinos]

Fruitful Misunderstanding

Summary: You and Sy start getting frisky when he notices some unfortunately placed bruises.

Pairing: Captain Syverson X Pole Dancer Reader

Word Count: 1500

Warnings: language, misunderstandings, bruises, initiation of smut

A/N: I pitched this idea as a joke but of course I couldn’t shake the idea afterwards sooooo here it is.

Masterlist

Taglist (I’m not too sure who wanted tags for what so let me know if you want a different list) : @amberangel112 ​ @utterlyhopeful-fics

Keep reading

[poledancingdinos]

Hiiii Hailie

You said you'd be happy to write more of the daddy eskel & little geralt verse so how does this sound? Little geralt getting a bit more confident and asking eskel to play with him? Maybe hide and seek or playing knights or anything like that. Basically I want to see little geralt getting a little more confident in his little space but still quite bashful

Hope you're doing good and thaaaaankkk yoooouuu

I am happy to do this I love them ❤️

Also thank you I'm a bit not well but writing these makes me happy so 💕 hahah

Here's some more shy Geralt and Daddy Eskel 🥰

CW: Little Space, non sexual, Little Geralt, Daddy Eskel, shy worried behaviour with plenty of comfort. Modern au.

-----------

“One more.”

Eskel held up the last carrot stick for Geralt to eat who wouldn’t open his mouth.

“Come on, one more baby, you’re doing so well, then we can play a game.”

“I’ll eat half.”

“I’m not bargaining, one more.”

Geralt tried to grumble but as he finished the last one, Eskel’s cheek kisses took him out of his pretend huff. He jumped up onto Eskel’s knee again once he was back from taking the plate into the kitchen. The fact that Geralt had let him go that far without following him was still new.

“Are we going to play a game now, Daddy?”

Eskel turned Geralt round on his knee so that his back was facing him, then took the bobble out of his hair that was falling out of it and put it back in tighter. Geralt was very used to being fussed over by his Daddy and loved the constant touch.

“Mmhmm, what do you want to play, sweetheart?”

Geralt thought for a moment before replying.

“Hide and seek?”

“Sure baby, you go and find a place to hide, and I’ll close my eyes and count to 30.”

Eskel could feel Geralt grab onto his sleeve as his eyes went wide.

“C... can’t you come with me, Daddy?”

Eskel put a hand round his waist to give him a little cuddle while he explained.

“Well, I could, but then I might see where you hide and it would maybe make it a bit too easy. What do you think?”

Geralt thought for a little while more, his eyes moving round the room that suddenly seemed much bigger than it really was.

“But what if I get lost and you can’t find me ever again?”

Eskel could see real panic in Geralt’s eyes. It was more important that Geralt enjoyed what he was doing rather than the game being played properly.

“Hmmm, you know, I know this house really, really well. And I don’t think I could ever lose you, but, just to be doubly, triply safe... Daddy will hold your hand and we’ll find a place for you to hide together, then i’ll close my eyes and count to 30, how about that?”

Geralt grinned from ear to ear. The rules didn’t make sense and for anyone else, it would have taken the fun out of it, but not to Geralt. This was much better.

Eskel stood up with Geralt and they walked round the house. He even consulted his daddy on different hiding places, wondering which one would be better. Once he picked one, behind the curtain, he got into place to wait for Eskel to find him.

Eskel counted down from 30, listening to Geralt giggle as he got closer, if he didn’t already know where he was hiding, he would now.

“Ready or not, here I come!”

Eskel wandered round the house loudly, intentionally talking so that Geralt could still hear his voice no matter where he was. It was important that Geralt knew he was definitely going to be found. Any time Eskel gave a confused “hmmmm where could he be?” Geralt laughed even louder, it was unbelievably cute and Eskel wanted to keep him this happy all of the time. Once he seen Geralt peeking out round the curtain, he knew he was ready to be found. At first, he considered letting Geralt win, asking him to come out and tell him where the hiding place was, but he wanted Geralt to know that if he ever really did get lost, Eskel would always find him. He pulled back the curtains and was greeted with the tightest cuddle.

“There you are! Wow what an amazing hiding place, baby!”

“Could you see me, daddy?!”

“No, not even a little! I had to look everywhere!”

Eskel lifted him up letting Geralt wrap his legs round his waist.

“Do you want to play again?”

“Okay, but maybe, this time, when we find a new place you can close your eyes and that way it makes it a little harder?”

“That’s a brilliant rule sweetheart, you’re great at this!”

---------

Little Space Masterlist

Tag list:

@elliestormfound @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dani-dandelino @inikokoru @random-shit-writing @annafortoday @kueble @bichibibi @ammehmorton @lovelyeskel

[poledancingdinos]

Welcome home, Daddy

Summary: You were four months pregnant when Sy was deployed. One night after your son is born you’re woken up by a phone call: Sy has a surprise for you.

Pairing: Syverson x reader

Word Count: 1,489

Warnings: Fluff. Deployment of husband while reader is pregnant, breastfeeding.

A/N: This is my first story in a while. Sorry for the long absence but I had really lost my mojo there for a while. This story snuck up on me out of nowhere, and wouldn’t take no for an answer so here we are! Thank you guys for sticking by me and being patient with me.

Disclaimer: FEEL FREE TO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THE STORY! Writers live off reblogs! Do not copy any portion of my material to claim as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own.

***

Even in the beginning you knew this was going to be difficult. Not the pregnancy itself, more rather the absence of your husband during it.

Sy had been deployed when you were only four months along. Saying he did not go happily was an understatement. Unlike any of the others he’d been assigned, Sy fought this deployment tooth and nail. Ultimately he had been powerless to change his hand.

You’d reassured him that everything would be ok, and he’d be back in time to see the birth. You both knew that may not happen, but you both held onto the hope that you were right.

A month later you received the first phone call from him since his departure. He would have to stay until their objective was complete. Meaning there was no way he, or anyone else, could tell you when he would be home.

Over the next three months you, and the rest of the Syverson family tried like mad to make sure Sy would be home on the day of your induction.

The Army seemed to want the Captain to be there to witness the birth of his child almost as much as the rest of his family. Yet, given the location and the degree of difficulty pf this mission, he wasn’t going to be easily tracked down. Even with the powers that be making great efforts to get in contact with anyone on, or nearby, the Special Forces team that Sy was leading.

As fate would have it, your little one had different plans anyway. You went into labor two weeks early. They couldn’t reach Sy in time. He called you on a grainy Skype call two days later.

“Oh, Mama,” his breath caught as he spoke, “you did good. You did so good, sweetheart.” He beamed with pride over you and his little one. The two of you talked for a few more minutes before he called over someone passing by. “Hey Tommy, you wanna meet my kid?”

*

Two months later. You’d grown accustomed to the late night feedings, the mountains of diapers, and being spit up on. Not to mention you’d almost cracked the code behind your son's confusing cries.

Tonight was a bit different.

You woke to an odd noise and blindly reached for your phone. In your delirious, sleepy haze you tried to shush the ringing cell phone under your patting hand as if it were your baby.

When you realized what you were doing you rolled your eyes at yourself. Waking fully you reached again for your now silent phone on the nightstand.

The dim screen boasted the picture of you with Sy at the going away party his parents had held at their home. You were both in a Charlie’s Angels pose holding NERF guns. You couldn’t stop laughing long enough to make it a serious pose; Sy on the other hand wore the perfect war face.

The large white numbers read 2:12, beneath them in the notification bubble:

Sy

Missed Call

Your heart flip flopped. Quickly sitting up you jostled the sleeping infant next to you. Letting out a small startled cry, he calmed after hearing your soothing voice. Cradling him close to you caused him to root against your milk swollen breast so you offered to nurse.

You had planned to call Sy back as soon as your son was settled but he beat you to it. Before it even really rang you answered.

“Sy?!” You spoke excitedly in a hushed tone.

“Hey darlin’,” you melted hearing that deep southern drawl. “I didn’t wake ya now did I?”

“Yeah. It’s alright, it was almost time to feed him anyway. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted to call you while I had the chance.”

You smiled. Hearing his voice, no matter how far away, would always make you feel like everything was right in the world.

“I’m glad you did. We’ve missed you.” You looked down into the most beautiful blue eyes you had ever seen. Little one was definitely going to look like his father.

“I’ve missed you both so much, darlin.”

Putting it on speaker you sat the phone back over on the nightstand. You sat back against the headboard and listened to Sy talk for a minute, realizing how clear his words were. Normally the service there was iffy at best.

“How’s our little one?”

“Good! He’s nursing now.”

“I thought I could hear those little grunts. Hungry little guy, aren't ya pal?"

Chuckling softly you looked down at your beautiful little boy. You heard the faint, but unmistakable sound of keys jingling together. Before you could ask him what he was doing he interrupted your thoughts.

“The Thompson’s never patched that hole in their garage door did they?”

“Nah, Janice told me Bill was going to, but their new dog likes running in and out of there like it’s a doggy door.”

Sy laughed. It wasn't a big laugh but it made your eyes well up with tears. You missed him like crazy.

“You know what we need?”

You made a soft hmm sound while checking on your son.

“Somma those solar light things for the driveway. Make it easier to see what the hell I'm doing out here in the dark. Wow, the rose bush really has really taken off.”

It was cute; Sy was being Sy again. He wasn’t grumpy or sad right now. He was rambling things off like he would if he were home. This conversation didn't feel rushed or crowded.

It was intimate, quiet.

Quiet.

No static. No iffy service.

Realization hit you.

“Sy, Missed call.”

That call had come from his personal phone.

When he was deployed it was either a foreign number or a blocked number that showed up. In Sy’s words, his personal phone was a ‘glorified paper weight’ out there.

He’s home.

“Sy?” Your voice caught in your throat.

“Yes baby?”

Your ears perked up instantly listening for any signs of your husband.

“Are you…” you trailed off.

You could faintly hear the front door opening slowly downstairs.

“Am I?” He asked with a calm, playful cheerfulness.

You heard the unmistakable thud of his worn combat boots on the hardwood.

You couldn’t speak. You just silently wept with joy.

Hearing his footsteps on the stairs you wondered if this was only a dream that you would eventually wake from. No this was real and the anticipation was killing you.

The top step. No matter what, Sy would always step on the creaky spot. It was like he couldn't avoid it no matter how he tried.

You waited.

*CREAK*

A whisper of “shit..” crescendoed into the phone and through the hall. You tried not to laugh too loud as your son's eyes had just begun to flutter back to sleep.

The phone disconnected as you saw his large silhouette enter the door frame. He paused for a moment; breathing in the smells of home, taking in the sight of you nursing his newborn son.

The bedroom floor groaned under his weight as he came closer, just as it always had. Sy undid his belt, his pants hit the floor at the foot of the bed. Shucking off his gray Army t-shirt, he climbed in under the covers to lay beside you.

You watched him carefully. His eyes had only left yours once since he walked in. You wiped the tears from your face as he settled in beside you. Sy looked down at the content, beautiful little boy that the two of you had made.

Sy reached out with a shaky hand. He wanted so badly to touch him but he was afraid.

“Can I?"

You nodded, "of course you can."

“I won’t hurt him or nothin’, will I?” His hand hovered over his face. “I won’t wake him?”

“Oh honey. No, you won’t hurt him. It’ll be ok if you wake him. He’s pretty good about sleeping though.”

Sy’s fingers gently stroked the top of his son’s head. He marveled at the amount of hair he had and you reminded him of all the times you complained with heartburn.

You just thought you couldn't be more in love with Sy. He leaned over and kissed the sleeping boy's forehead. Your son rewarded him with a brilliant Syverson smile.

“Are you ready to hold him?

Sy smiled bigger than you’d seen in months.

“Yeah.” He sat up on the bed as you turned to present him with his son. Placing the little boy in his arms you looked up to see Sy doing something you’d never seen.

Sy was crying. Unashamed, tears of joy poured down your war hero's chiseled face. His breath hitched as he spoke to his son for the first time.

“Hey little guy. I’m your dad.” More tears sprang forward for you both when his little hand grasped Sy’s wide finger.

“Welcome home, Daddy.” You whispered before kissing his cheek.

***

Pic edited by me, not my photo. I do not own Captain Syverson or Sandcastle.

[poledancingdinos]

Hello dear followers, with Halloween over and the fandom being rather quiet. I thought I would try and keep the flow of posting stories to try to get control of my nerves. Posting stories still scares me! So here’s some sugar sweet fluff for you all. As always please comment and reblog as feedback is a writers dream.

Pairing: Captain Travis Syverson x Unnamed O.F.C Wife a.k.a ‘Sugar Lips’

Summary: Sy makes a new friend.

Word Count: 455 words

Warning: None

Beta: @persephonepraxidikechthonios thanks as always hun

A/N: This little piece of fluff came about during a period of writer's block where @sillyrabbit81 let me use the character generator she made alongside @thelastsock suggestion of a random object generator and this is what I came up with. Thank you both and I hope everyone enjoys the story.

Part of this series

“Travis” Sy hears the familiar sound of his wife’s soft Texan accent calling his name.

“Out here Sugar Lips.” Sy hollers back. Barely a minute later she appears at the open patio door.

“Has my darling Captain made a new friend?” she asks, leaning against the door frame.

“I suppose the little fur ball is kinda alright” Sy looks down at Dusty, the ginger and white rabbit he’s holding. She was a gift from him and his wife to their eldest daughter for her tenth birthday a couple of days ago.

“Is that why you got her cuddled up to your chest like she’s a newborn?” His wife asks with a hint of mischief in her voice.

“You got me darling. I miss cuddlin’ with our babies.” Sy looks up at his wife who moves from the patio door and over to where he's standing by their newest family member’s hutch.

“You can always cuddle up with me when ya feel lonely.” She places a hand on his bicep and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“What's the matter, Sugar Lips? You jealous that another lady is getting some lovin?’” Sy drapes his arm over his wife’s shoulders and places a kiss on the top of her head.

“Don't be ridiculous. I’m not jealous of a rabbit.” She taps his muscular stomach playfully.

“I'm just surprised at how hands on ya being. Considering the ‘You want it you clean it’ speech you gave the birthday girl, I didn't expect you to be out here at night holding the little lady.”

“She’s a baby and away from her mama.” Sy lifts his arm up and places his hand back on the tiny ten-week-old fluffy bundle, stroking down her back gently with his large palm.

“I wanted to make sure she knows she's safe with her new family.” He rubs the fur between the bunny's ears as he speaks.

“You really are the sweetest Trav.” His wife goes to her tippy toes and places a kiss onto Sy’s bearded cheek, then glances down at the tiny ball of fur in her husband's arms. The bunny’s button nose twitching against Sy’s large fingertip.

“She's fast asleep. I think you can put her back in her hutch now.” Travis feels her squeeze his bicep and she walks away to stand at the back door.

“Here ya go Dusty. Sleep well in your new home.” Travis gently places the sleeping bunny into her hutch and closes the wooden door. He flicks down the latch and nudges the metal with his finger to make sure it was secure. Maybe a new furry friend was a good idea after all…

[poledancingdinos]

If it wasn't already obvious, those are also two of my favourites 😁

I can't express how much joy this show has brought to my life and I always love introducing it to someone new and sharing the happiness with them.

You're My Person

Pairing: Captain Syverson X OFC (1st person POV)

Word Count: 1139

Warnings: Domestic Fluff

Taglist: @summersong69 @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha ​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @rosecentury @shellyshellshell @winter2112rose @secretdream2 @toooldforobsessions @wa-ni @valacircareads @missemrose @liecastillo @identity2212

Masterlist

“Ow! Motherfucker!” I rubbed my head where I’d hit it on the kitchen cabinets. Yes, I hit my forehead on the eye-level kitchen cabinets. No, it unfortunately wasn’t the first time. Yes, I did foresee it happening again. 

The washing machine buzzed, giving me an excuse to escape the kitchen and leave behind the sink full of dirty dishes. If I didn’t immediately hang the laundry on the line, I would definitely forget to do it until the next time I tried to start a load and found the washer full of moldy clothing.

When I came back in, nearly tripping over Aika who darted outside right as I opened the door, I found Sy leaning with one shoulder on the kitchen archway. Instinctively, I checked his feet to make sure he wasn’t leaving dirty footprints on the freshly mopped floors.

“Hey, did you want me to get you something before I start the dishes?”

It wasn’t unusual for him to ask me to get him a drink when he came in with grease-covered hands. Having a mini-fridge—or even a second full-sized fridge—in the garage might be something to consider in the future. The extra freezer space would not go to waste with Sy’s appetite resembling that of a starved animal.

“Actually, I need ya to come downstairs with me.”

Confused, I set the empty basket on the table and followed without protest. I was expecting him to show me some new problem that would need to be fixed in the bathroom we were renovating, but instead he caught hold of my wrist and led me the opposite way towards our lounge area.

Sy pointed at a spot in the corner of the sectional couch where all my fluffy blankets were waiting.

“Sit.”

He waited until I obeyed before pointing to a steaming mug of hot chocolate that I hadn’t noticed was waiting for me on the table.

“Drink.”

Finally, he handed over the TV remote.

“Watch. No more work, no more chores, I don’t want ya back upstairs until you’re singin’ about pineapples and not tellin’ the truth.”

“Pineapples aren’t in the theme song,” I corrected without thinking, taking the remote.

“Blueberries then.”

“Those aren’t in the song either.”

To his credit, Sy fixed me with a sharp look but kept the annoyance out of his tone. “You’re doin’ it again.”

I was. I’d been picking fights over the most insignificant things all day—sometimes even with inanimate objects. In my defense though, carefully clearing the jammed paper didn’t keep the printer from eating more pages but threatening to throw it off the roof sure as hell seemed to finally make it run smoothly.

With a sigh, I let my head drop on the back of the couch. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you for all this. You can go back to what you were doing.”

Making myself comfortable with one blanket around my shoulders and another over my lap—a necessity even at the height of summer since the whole house was on Sy temperature—I picked up the hot chocolate from the table. I gently blew on the hot milk before taking a small sip. Sy had made it just how I like it with lots of cocoa, sugar and a tiny pinch of salt instead of the pre-made mix. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked when I noticed Sy hadn’t moved. He stood in the same spot, arms crossed over his chest and frowning at the ground.

“Nothin’,” Sy scratched his scruffy cheek before putting his hands in his pockets, “I’m just realizin’ I have no clue what your favorite show is even about.”

Sy wasn’t really the binge-watching type. Actually, he wasn’t really the watching type period. Occasionally he would hear about a new show or movie that he specifically wanted to watch but other than that he normally did his own thing when I watched my shows. That was why we had our main living room upstairs and a movie area downstairs.

“I’ve explained it before, haven’t I?” I took another sip of my hot chocolate, humming in satisfaction.

“Sort of,” he shrugged. “You said it was a guy pretendin’ to be a psychic but I never understood why the boxset had a pineapple on it.”

“The lead actor ad-libbed a line with a random prop pineapple in the pilot and the showrunners ran with it. The blueberry is from a line in the second season and it refers to their little blue hatchback.”

There were numerous magnets on the fridge with silly quotes from the show or fanart which was how Sy knew about the fruity references but not the actual plot of the show. I also had a habit of humming the theme song around the house when I was feeling particularly perky.

“Huh.” There was another moment of silence before Sy seemed to shake off whatever thoughts were going through his head. “You need me to put a DVD in for ya?”

“No, I think I’ll stream it while it’s available. That way I don’t need to get out of my blanket burrito to change seasons.”

With a nod, Sy kissed the top of my head and left me to pick out an episode. I didn’t really know which one to watch so I found a number generator on my phone and had it pick one for me. I wasn’t currently doing a rewatch so there was no reason to follow any particular order.

To my surprise, Sy returned with snacks and a beer right as I prepared to press play. He had swapped out of his work clothes for a pair of grey sweats and an old army shirt.

“I thought you had stuff you wanted to finish in the garage?”

He dropped by my side with a groan. “Changin’ the breaks can wait until next weekend. I’ll sit with you for the evenin’ and take care of the rest of the chores tomorrow.”

“What about supper?”

“Food will be here in an hour.” One large arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Now, what do I gotta know before we start?”

Nervous energy passed through me and I had to actively try to contain my excitement.

“There’s nothing specific to know for this episode but in general? We never skip the opening or ending credits, I will sing them every time and if you see the hidden pineapple you have to point it out.”

That seemed to pique Sy’s interest. If anything, it would give him something to focus on if he got bored halfway through which I really hoped wouldn’t happen. He set a bowl of popcorn on his lap and nodded for me to start the episode. Smiling to myself, I sank deeper into his side and leaned my head on Sy’s shoulder.

I was feeling better already.

[poledancingdinos]

I had to end/start the year with some fluff 🥰

You're My Person

Pairing: Captain Syverson X OFC (1st person POV)

Word Count: 1139

Warnings: Domestic Fluff

Taglist: @summersong69 @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha ​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @rosecentury @shellyshellshell @winter2112rose @secretdream2 @toooldforobsessions @wa-ni @valacircareads @missemrose @liecastillo @identity2212

Masterlist

“Ow! Motherfucker!” I rubbed my head where I’d hit it on the kitchen cabinets. Yes, I hit my forehead on the eye-level kitchen cabinets. No, it unfortunately wasn’t the first time. Yes, I did foresee it happening again. 

The washing machine buzzed, giving me an excuse to escape the kitchen and leave behind the sink full of dirty dishes. If I didn’t immediately hang the laundry on the line, I would definitely forget to do it until the next time I tried to start a load and found the washer full of moldy clothing.

When I came back in, nearly tripping over Aika who darted outside right as I opened the door, I found Sy leaning with one shoulder on the kitchen archway. Instinctively, I checked his feet to make sure he wasn’t leaving dirty footprints on the freshly mopped floors.

“Hey, did you want me to get you something before I start the dishes?”

It wasn’t unusual for him to ask me to get him a drink when he came in with grease-covered hands. Having a mini-fridge—or even a second full-sized fridge—in the garage might be something to consider in the future. The extra freezer space would not go to waste with Sy’s appetite resembling that of a starved animal.

“Actually, I need ya to come downstairs with me.”

Confused, I set the empty basket on the table and followed without protest. I was expecting him to show me some new problem that would need to be fixed in the bathroom we were renovating, but instead he caught hold of my wrist and led me the opposite way towards our lounge area.

Sy pointed at a spot in the corner of the sectional couch where all my fluffy blankets were waiting.

“Sit.”

He waited until I obeyed before pointing to a steaming mug of hot chocolate that I hadn’t noticed was waiting for me on the table.

“Drink.”

Finally, he handed over the TV remote.

“Watch. No more work, no more chores, I don’t want ya back upstairs until you’re singin’ about pineapples and not tellin’ the truth.”

“Pineapples aren’t in the theme song,” I corrected without thinking, taking the remote.

“Blueberries then.”

“Those aren’t in the song either.”

To his credit, Sy fixed me with a sharp look but kept the annoyance out of his tone. “You’re doin’ it again.”

I was. I’d been picking fights over the most insignificant things all day—sometimes even with inanimate objects. In my defense though, carefully clearing the jammed paper didn’t keep the printer from eating more pages but threatening to throw it off the roof sure as hell seemed to finally make it run smoothly.

With a sigh, I let my head drop on the back of the couch. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you for all this. You can go back to what you were doing.”

Making myself comfortable with one blanket around my shoulders and another over my lap—a necessity even at the height of summer since the whole house was on Sy temperature—I picked up the hot chocolate from the table. I gently blew on the hot milk before taking a small sip. Sy had made it just how I like it with lots of cocoa, sugar and a tiny pinch of salt instead of the pre-made mix. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked when I noticed Sy hadn’t moved. He stood in the same spot, arms crossed over his chest and frowning at the ground.

“Nothin’,” Sy scratched his scruffy cheek before putting his hands in his pockets, “I’m just realizin’ I have no clue what your favorite show is even about.”

Sy wasn’t really the binge-watching type. Actually, he wasn’t really the watching type period. Occasionally he would hear about a new show or movie that he specifically wanted to watch but other than that he normally did his own thing when I watched my shows. That was why we had our main living room upstairs and a movie area downstairs.

“I’ve explained it before, haven’t I?” I took another sip of my hot chocolate, humming in satisfaction.

“Sort of,” he shrugged. “You said it was a guy pretendin’ to be a psychic but I never understood why the boxset had a pineapple on it.”

“The lead actor ad-libbed a line with a random prop pineapple in the pilot and the showrunners ran with it. The blueberry is from a line in the second season and it refers to their little blue hatchback.”

There were numerous magnets on the fridge with silly quotes from the show or fanart which was how Sy knew about the fruity references but not the actual plot of the show. I also had a habit of humming the theme song around the house when I was feeling particularly perky.

“Huh.” There was another moment of silence before Sy seemed to shake off whatever thoughts were going through his head. “You need me to put a DVD in for ya?”

“No, I think I’ll stream it while it’s available. That way I don’t need to get out of my blanket burrito to change seasons.”

With a nod, Sy kissed the top of my head and left me to pick out an episode. I didn’t really know which one to watch so I found a number generator on my phone and had it pick one for me. I wasn’t currently doing a rewatch so there was no reason to follow any particular order.

To my surprise, Sy returned with snacks and a beer right as I prepared to press play. He had swapped out of his work clothes for a pair of grey sweats and an old army shirt.

“I thought you had stuff you wanted to finish in the garage?”

He dropped by my side with a groan. “Changin’ the breaks can wait until next weekend. I’ll sit with you for the evenin’ and take care of the rest of the chores tomorrow.”

“What about supper?”

“Food will be here in an hour.” One large arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Now, what do I gotta know before we start?”

Nervous energy passed through me and I had to actively try to contain my excitement.

“There’s nothing specific to know for this episode but in general? We never skip the opening or ending credits, I will sing them every time and if you see the hidden pineapple you have to point it out.”

That seemed to pique Sy’s interest. If anything, it would give him something to focus on if he got bored halfway through which I really hoped wouldn’t happen. He set a bowl of popcorn on his lap and nodded for me to start the episode. Smiling to myself, I sank deeper into his side and leaned my head on Sy’s shoulder.

I was feeling better already.

[poledancingdinos]

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Title: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out 

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: Syverson x Female!Reader 

Word Count: 951

Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU. 

Warnings: apocalypse AU, accidental pregnancy, language

A/N: A submission for @the-slumberparty BINGO challenge. My bingo squares include beach day, family friend, accidental pregnancy, and apocalypse. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me 

My Masterlist  

As you sit just past where the water rushes on the beach, you can feel the mist of the water on your face. Sea salt is in the air, and you relish the smell. You can remember coming to the coast with your family as a child. 

Of course, that was before the world decided to end. Before you had to change your entire way of life in the blink of an eye.  

Now, moments like this are but a distant memory. Your shoes are off. Your toes are buried in the sand. Saliferous wind from the ocean is blowing through your hair. Next to you is a duffel bag full of essentials, at least what you could grab on short notice.  

Escaping the compound turns out to be a bit trickier than you had hoped. But with a close friend at the guard station, you sneak by and out of the gates without a second glance. You make it out of town before dawn, watching the sun rise over the water. 

By now, you know that your superior officer will be conducting roll calls and noticing your absence. You did not care enough to go back, but you wish your brain would stop letting you worry about what was going through their brains. 

‘Is she alive?’ For now, yes. 

‘Did she go alone?’ Technically, no. 

The distant sound of tires on gravel does not surprise you. Neither does the noise of the rusty truck door opening and closing. The softness of sand being kicked up by big boots creeps up to the side of you. You do not have to look up to know who is next to you, but you do anyway. 

The dusty old camouflage pants with thigh holster and sweaty brown plain t-shirt gave him away in an instant, but your eyes continue higher. His unruly beard covers his irked expression, his mouth set to one side as he chews his inner cheek. You’ve known him long enough that he chews his cheek whenever he gets upset. 

He looks down into your eyes and you watch as they wander across your form. 

“Your brothers are worried sick about ya. I told ‘em I would come to look for ya,” He sits down in the sand next to you, “Runnin’ ain’t gonna fix our little problem.” 

“Our problem, Sy? First, it is not our problem. Second, it is not a problem. It is a baby. And this baby wasn’t exactly planned, I understand that. But I don’t expect you to do anything. We can get by on our own.” Your voice breaks and you hate that your eyes are blurry with unshed tears. 

“I wasn’t callin’ the baby a problem. And if ya think I’m lettin’ ya raise this little hellion on yer own, yer outta yer damn mind. Now, yer brothers are my best friends in this whole damn world. And yes, they’d kill my ass if they knew I got you pregnant. But they’d resurrect me and kill me again if they knew I’d let ya off on yer own. Shit, I’d kill my ass too.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but it does nothing to stop the fat tears that escape when you blink your eyes. The shuddering breath you take is enough to have Sy scooting closer to you and bringing you into his arms. 

“Don’t cry, Sweetness. We’ll figure this out. Together,” He kisses your forehead and snakes a hand down to your stomach, “Let’s give ‘em a chance, alright? Make a better world for ‘em and all that nonsense. I can’t fathom losing both of ya, let alone either of ya.” 

“We should have been more careful—” 

“Well, we weren’t bein’ careful. And now, we got a kid on the way. So what? Every time we face a little trouble, you gonna run?” He wipes away your tears, looking into your eyes again. 

“I’m really scared, Sy. What are we going to do?” The tremble in your voice has Sy holding you tight. 

“Well, to start, we tell yer brothers about the baby. Then, whaddya say we go over to the doctor, have everything looked at? Make sure he’s growing fine and everything.” 

You laugh, not able to hold your amusement. “He? You already know it’s going to be a boy?” 

“Well, ya know my folks had five boys. Yer parents had two before they had ya. Odds are it’s gonna be a boy, Sweetness.” 

“I’m a little shocked. What changed your mind about everything? You were not this verbal when I told you yesterday.”  

He bites his lip, looking out at the sea before answering. “I guess I was too scared to admit how I felt about ya. And then, outta nowhere, you give me the best gift in the world, and I didn’t know how to handle it,” He takes a shaky breath, then continues, “I’m sorry I waited ‘til now to say it, Sweetness. I love ya. I love ya, so damn much. And nothing would make me happier than to raise this little one with ya.” 

You climb into Sy’s lap, holding his face in your hands, and resting your forehead against his. “I love you too, Sy.” You lean in and slot your mouth against his. You allow him to take the lead as his hand tangles in your hair. 

Pulling back, you smile at each other. Nothing needs to be said. You turn in Sy’s lap and watch as the waves crash in and out. You have each other and you have this baby. With a love that burns bright like yours, neither Hell nor high water would be able to snuff it out. 

A/N: Title taken from There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths. It seemed perfect for this story. 

**Tag List** 

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @peyton-warren @raccoon-eyed-rebel @geralts-yenn @rebelangel1102

[poledancingdinos]

All I Want For Christmas is You

Attn: So @lainiespicewrites I did it! Got this idea in my head and ran with it lol. I hope everyone enjoys!

Word Count: 1,825

Pairing: Sy x OFC Amanda (Mandy) Dawson

Summary: Sy signs up for a pen pal program while on deployment and gets quite the surprise.

Warnings: None, it’s very fluffy 🥹

“The fuck is this?,” the gruff captain asks as one of his cadets brings him a clipboard. “It’s uh… a sign up sheet sir, for a pen pal. Y— you don’t have to, it’s voluntary, but I’m trying to give everyone a chance to—,” he stammers before Captain Syverson stops him. “Pen pal, huh?,” he questions. “Yes sir. The matches are random of course, but we figured it would be a good way to help us guys out here. Snuff out some of the loneliness and all,” he replies.

Sy contemplates that. He does have his parents, and his siblings, but as far as that went they had to care for him. They were his family after all. Might be nice to have someone out there that actually cares just because he’s him, and truly it was lonely as fuck out in the desert. Before Sy can change his mind he grabs the pen and signs his name on the list.

It takes about a week before he gets his first letter, dainty handwriting scrawled over the envelope. He opens in it the privacy of his quarters, not wanting to share this with anyone else.

Hello Captain Syverson,

My name is Amanda Dawson. Most people call me Mandy though. I’m your pen pal, obviously. I’m from Texas, like you actually. I got a small information packet about you. I’m not sure if you received the same thing but either way, I’ll tell you about myself.

I’m thirty years old, I own a cozy little cafe/bookshop called Mandy’s. It’s nothing fancy, but it makes me happy. I like books and coffee so I suppose it’s perfect for me. I have a chihuahua named Lester, and before you judge me (because I know they’re devil’s spawn), he was my Meemaw’s and I couldn’t let him be taken to a shelter when she passed.

I’m not really sure how much you want to know, so I’ll quit here and let you ask any other questions you like. I hope you’re doing well, and being safe.

Best,

Mandy

Sy reads the note again before pulling out a piece of paper to write back to this woman who’s already caught his attention.

Hey there Sugar,

You said you got a packet on me, but they didn’t send me a thing about you. I’m glad to be able to get to know you, Mandy. I put a picture of myself in here so you could know who you’re talking to. Not sure if they did that. You could send one back if you want, but I’d understand if you weren’t comfortable. Gotta let you know too, most people call me Sy, and you’re more than welcome to also.

I’m thirty three myself, and you already know what I do. Your bookstore and coffee shop sounds real nice. I like readin’ a bit myself out here to pass the time. Chihuahua’s are the devil, but I won’t judge you for takin’ in your Meemaw’s baby. I have a German Shepard named Aika. She’s a bomb detection dog, and an all around good girl.

I’m doin’ my best to keep safe, doin’ okay. How about you? You doin’ alright? Tell me more about yourself. Whatcha like, your family, all that.

Talk soon,

Sy

“Let me see that!,” Mandy’s best friend, Sadie says excitedly while grabbing Sy’s picture. “Jeez,” Mandy chuckles. “You would get Captain Sexy as a pen pal. Look at him!,” she tells Mandy animatedly. “He is attractive,” Mandy agrees. “You’re sending a pic back right? RIGHT???,” she asks. “Yes Sadie Belle. Chill out,” Mandy laughs. “I know the perfect—,” Sadie begins before Mandy pulls out the exact picture Sadie is thinking of. “All men love a sundress,” Sadie beams.

When Sy gets his letter from Mandy he nearly spits out his coffee. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Light brown hair, sun kissed skin, and a peachy sundress. She’s stood outside against the wall of a house, hair pulled back in a ponytail, with who he can only assume at this point, is Lester in her arms. “Holy shit,” he murmurs before sitting the picture to the side and unfolding his letter.

Hey Sy,

I’m more than glad you send you a picture, thanks for sending me one. That’s me and Lester, the little booger that he is. He gets separation anxiety sometimes so he goes most places that he can with me, but he doesn’t like to be put down so I have to hold him. This was at a family barbecue this summer, if you can’t tell. I’m still pretty tan, but definitely not rocking the sundresses currently.

I’m glad to hear you’re being safe and doing okay. I’m good. I’m a simple creature. I already told you I like my books and my coffee. I like grandma things, I guess. I like quilting and crochet. Meemaw taught me. If you can’t tell, she and I were really close. I miss her a lot, so I keep up doing the things we always did together. Currently working on a batch of hats for preemies at the local hospital. I’m nearly halfway to my goal.

I’m an only child, which was fun I guess. I got all my parent’s attention and the majority of Meemaw’s as well. My best friend, Sadie, is kind of like a sister. We’ve been friends since kindergarten. She totally wigged out over your picture, called you Captain Sexy, and insisted I sent a picture back, which I’d planned on anyway. She’s a bit much, but I love her. She’s my right hand at the shop.

What are your likes? I’m not sure what life is like in the military base, but I want to know you. All parts. Military and otherwise. Tell me what you’re like.

Best,

Mandy

Sy couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the Captain Sexy comment. It’s one he’d never gotten before but he’d take it, especially if Mandy agreed. He’d been taken with her from the start, but after seeing how beautiful she was as well, he was in trouble.

Things went on as such, the two of them sending letters back and forth for months on end. Although Sy hadn’t admitted it to anyone else, he wasn’t above admitting to himself that he was falling head over stupid in love with a woman he’d never actually met. It could be a problem, because honestly… what if she didn’t feel the same? He’d recently taken a leap though, and asked for Mandy’s number so they could talk over the phone.

“He wants to talk to you?,” Sadie asks. “Yeah he does,” Mandy replied. “And… do you wanna talk to him?,” she asks. “You know what? I— I think I do,” Mandy replies. “You LIKE him,” Sadie says knowingly. “Maybe…. I mean he’s forever away in a war zone Sade,” Mandy tells her. “So? Stranger things have happened,” Sadie shrugs. That night Mandy writes her note to Sy, phone number included.

Sy tries to keep his cool as he dials Mandy’s number. “Just a phone call,” he says as the phone rings. “Hello?,” a soft voice answers. “I didn’t wake you did I?,” Sy says frantically. “Sy?,” Mandy questions. “It’s me darlin’,” he replies. “Hey,” she replies. Sy can almost hear her smile. “You alright?,” he then asks. “Yeah. I’ve just got a bit of a cold is all,” she replies. “Poor thing,” he coos. “You’ve got a really deep voice,” Mandy replies, making him laugh. “I do?,” he asks playfully. “Mmhm. It’s soothing,” she tells him.

“I’ll talk to you all night then sugar,” he tells her. “I can’t keep you up all night Sy. You’ve got more important things to do than talk to me,” she says. “Not right now, I don’t,” he insists. They talk well into the night, until Mandy can’t stop yawning. “I’m sorry. I promise I’m not bored,” she chuckles. “It’s alright darlin’. Shouldn’t have kept you up this late as is. I’ll letcha go so you can get some rest,” he replies. “You’ll call again?,” Mandy asks hopefully. “Course I will. Talkin’ to you is my new favorite thing,” he smiles. “Mine too”, she says honestly. “Night sugar,” he then says. “Goodnight Sy,” she answers before hanging up.

The phone calls and letters both continue throughout the year, and Sy can’t tell which is his favorite. Between getting to hear her and getting to see her in newer pictures she’s sent, he feels well spoiled. He’s sitting with her picture in his hand one evening smiling softly, when there’s a knock at the door. “Yeah?,” he calls out, sitting the picture on his desk. His commander enters the room and he stands quickly.

“It’s alright, son. I’m here with good news. You’re going home,” he tells Sy. “Home…,” he trails off. The first thing he wants to do is call Mandy and tell her, but he stops himself, having a better idea.

“What’s wrong?,” Sadie asks Mandy as they work. “I’m sure it’s nothing I— I just haven’t heard from Sy in a few days,” she says as she fidgets with the hem of her shirt. “Maybe he just got caught up on a mission or something. I’m sure he’s—,” she stops short when she looks just past Mandy. Sy puts a finger to his lips as a signal for Sadie to keep quiet. “I know. I’m just worried about him,” Mandy sighs.

“No need darlin’,” he finally says once he’s in arms reach of Mandy. She spins around quickly before coming face to face with him. “Bu— what are you? You were on deployment and—,” Mandy stammers, near tears. “I’m home now. I wanted to surprise you. Sorry I had you worried,” he says sheepishly. Mandy reaches out shakily, taking his face in her hands. “It’s really you,” she breathes before he pulls her into his arms.

She sobs against Sy’s chest, letting emotion overwhelm her. “I can’t believe it’s really you. Wow,” she says as she looks up at him. He runs a thumb across her cheek, swiping a tear away. “It’s me,” he says softly. “I haven’t even got you a Christmas present,” she blurts out with a laugh. “All I want for Christmas is you darlin’… if you’ll have me,” he says nervously. Mandy then reaches up and cups his scruffy jaw before placing a tender kiss to his lips.

“Is that a yes?,” he chuckles. “That’s a hell yes!,” Sadie screeches from behind them, making them both laugh heartily. “Yes. You’re the perfect Christmas gift, Sy,” she tells him. He shakes his head. “Naw sugar, that’s you. You’ve been… everything from the moment you first wrote me. You gave me somethin’ to look forward to. Somethin’ to care for,” he says, gently caressing her face. “Well I’m all yours. Merry Christmas,” Mandy giggles. “Merry Christmas,” he murmurs before capturing her lips once more.

[poledancingdinos]

Aard

“Jaskier, down!”

Jaskier doesn’t think, doesn’t question, just drops to the leafy mulch covering the forest floor. He sees Geralt gesture with his left hand and a whoosh of air thunders over his head.

The shockwave slams into the huge, hideous arachnomorph that had been scuttling towards him, lifting the creature off its legs and sending it flying ten feet through the air. It hits a tree trunk with a sickening crunch and falls, twitching, to the ground.

He’s still in shock when Geralt comes over, picks him up and sets him on his feet.

“What was that?” he asks, heart pumping furiously.

“Giant spider,” Geralt says flatly.

“No, the -” he gestures by flapping his hand about. “- thing you did. Was that Witchery magic?”

Geralt scowls but indulges him anyway. “It’s not mage’s magic. It’s called a sign. That one was Aard.”

“Huh. Handy.”

Yrden

“Show me another of your signs.”

“They’re not party tricks, Jaskier.”

Jaskier pouts. “I have the natural curiosity of an artist, and it’s cruel to deny me the sustenance of knowledge.”

Geralt glares at him. “You want to see another sign? Fine.” He inscribes a round shape with his fingers and a line of purple light glows in a wide circle on the floor around Jaskier.

“Tingly!” Jaskier grins.

“Now stay right there.” With that, Geralt disappears off, silver blade in hand. Jaskier twiddles his thumbs, pretending he isn’t bothered by the muffled sounds of something inhuman shuffling around the old castle or the distant blood-curdling shrieks.

Out of the corner of his eye he’s sure he sees something pale and insubstantial flit through the air, but when he turns to look directly at it, it’s gone. Then there, again, more shapes moving in the dark corner of the room, then another by the window.

“Geralt?” he calls, determined not to let his fear show in his voice. “Um.”

One of the shapes draws closer, still wispy like smoke until it crosses the threshold of the purple circle and all at once solidifies into a twisted nightmare of a human skull, flesh tearing away from the bone in filthy chunks.

“Geralt!” he screams as the figure approaches him, all thoughts of bravery forgotten. “Geraaaaaaalt!” The figure is inching closer, bony hand outstretched to claw at Jaskier’s face.

As he thinks this is it, this is how I die, Geralt leaps from the darkness with blade in hand, slicing the wraith’s head clean off. Its body collapses and its head rolls to a stop in front of Jaskier’s horrified hands.

“You used me as bait? You absolute brute!”

Geralt shrugs one shoulder. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Igni

Jaskier shivers, looking morosely at the cold bath. They’d been trekking through the snow for days and every part of him was frozen from his nose to his toes.

He’d got through the freezing nights by promising himself a lovely warm bath when they finally reached an inn, but they arrived late and had been lucky to find accommodation at all.

He’d insisted Geralt take the bath first to have the benefit of the lukewarm water. He needed it more after the hunt. But by the time he was clean, the water was stone cold.

Jaskier braces himself. Needs must, though he dreads the idea of becoming even colder for the sake of getting clean.

As he contemplates the bath, Geralt slips up beside him. He looks him over, seems to make a decision, and waves one hand.

There’s an orange glow, and then the water is steaming and Jaskier can feel the heat radiating off it. He could honestly cry.

“How did you…” he looks at Geralt. “Never mind. Thank you, Geralt, really.”

Geralt grunts and goes back to cleaning his armor.

Axii

The pain is unlike anything he has experienced before. The gash in his leg is deep and ugly, but the tearing of the rent flesh pales in comparison to the agony of the arachas venom racing through his veins.

Every muscle in his body feels like it’s on fire, a blazing explosion of acid which leaves his lungs heaving for breath and his voice hoarse from crying out.

“It’ll be okay, Jaskier,” Geralt says, his voice clipped and tight. “We need to get you to a healer.”

Through his panic Jaskier catches sight of Geralt’s face, frowning deeply. He longs to wipe his sad expression away. But his body is wracked by another jolt of pain and he can’t stop screaming long enough to respond.

As his vision begins to swim and fade, he sees Geralt gesture with one hand and his mind goes suddenly, blissfully blank. The pain and the worry and all of his thoughts dissolve away, leaving him floating in empty space.

Feel no pain, Geralt’s voice echoes through his mind, and everything in him yearns to obey. Sleep.

The pain is gone. His eyes drift shut and darkness descends.

Quen

Jaskier barely has time to register the gang of bandits that appears on either side of the ravine they’re travelling through before a hail of arrows descends on them, sharp death incoming on the end of every shaft.

Geralt swears and moves faster than lightning, grabbing Jaskier and pulling him close, throwing one hand upward. A shimmering gold shield fizzes and pops into place around them both, the arrows bouncing harmlessly off it.

Jaskier looks up at Geralt with wide eyes, seeing him cast in a golden glow as the shield thrums around them. The bandits yell and growl, but within minutes they give up their assault and slink back into the forest in search of easier prey.

Geralt’s arm is still around Jaskier’s waist and their bodies are pressed together. Warmth blooms everywhere they touch.

“You okay?” Geralt asks, voice gentle.

Jaskier is breathing heavily, and it’s not due to the close call. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Thanks to you.”

Geralt’s face pinches and Jaskier can see the refutation forming, so he distracts Geralt by taking his chin in his hand. The golden shield holds, keeping the world at bay for a few precious moments.

“My hero,” he says, and means it.

“You don’t have to -” Geralt says, turning his face away, but Jaskier keeps a hold of his chin and turns it back.

“I know I don’t have to,” he says, sliding his hand around to cradle the back of Geralt’s neck. He leans in until there’s nothing more than a breath between their lips. “I want to.”

[poledancingdinos]

You're My Person

Pairing: Captain Syverson X OFC (1st person POV)

Word Count: 1139

Warnings: Domestic Fluff

Taglist: @summersong69 @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha ​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @rosecentury @shellyshellshell @winter2112rose @secretdream2 @toooldforobsessions @wa-ni @valacircareads @missemrose @liecastillo @identity2212

Masterlist

“Ow! Motherfucker!” I rubbed my head where I’d hit it on the kitchen cabinets. Yes, I hit my forehead on the eye-level kitchen cabinets. No, it unfortunately wasn’t the first time. Yes, I did foresee it happening again. 

The washing machine buzzed, giving me an excuse to escape the kitchen and leave behind the sink full of dirty dishes. If I didn’t immediately hang the laundry on the line, I would definitely forget to do it until the next time I tried to start a load and found the washer full of moldy clothing.

When I came back in, nearly tripping over Aika who darted outside right as I opened the door, I found Sy leaning with one shoulder on the kitchen archway. Instinctively, I checked his feet to make sure he wasn’t leaving dirty footprints on the freshly mopped floors.

“Hey, did you want me to get you something before I start the dishes?”

It wasn’t unusual for him to ask me to get him a drink when he came in with grease-covered hands. Having a mini-fridge—or even a second full-sized fridge—in the garage might be something to consider in the future. The extra freezer space would not go to waste with Sy’s appetite resembling that of a starved animal.

“Actually, I need ya to come downstairs with me.”

Confused, I set the empty basket on the table and followed without protest. I was expecting him to show me some new problem that would need to be fixed in the bathroom we were renovating, but instead he caught hold of my wrist and led me the opposite way towards our lounge area.

Sy pointed at a spot in the corner of the sectional couch where all my fluffy blankets were waiting.

“Sit.”

He waited until I obeyed before pointing to a steaming mug of hot chocolate that I hadn’t noticed was waiting for me on the table.

“Drink.”

Finally, he handed over the TV remote.

“Watch. No more work, no more chores, I don’t want ya back upstairs until you’re singin’ about pineapples and not tellin’ the truth.”

“Pineapples aren’t in the theme song,” I corrected without thinking, taking the remote.

“Blueberries then.”

“Those aren’t in the song either.”

To his credit, Sy fixed me with a sharp look but kept the annoyance out of his tone. “You’re doin’ it again.”

I was. I’d been picking fights over the most insignificant things all day—sometimes even with inanimate objects. In my defense though, carefully clearing the jammed paper didn’t keep the printer from eating more pages but threatening to throw it off the roof sure as hell seemed to finally make it run smoothly.

With a sigh, I let my head drop on the back of the couch. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you for all this. You can go back to what you were doing.”

Making myself comfortable with one blanket around my shoulders and another over my lap—a necessity even at the height of summer since the whole house was on Sy temperature—I picked up the hot chocolate from the table. I gently blew on the hot milk before taking a small sip. Sy had made it just how I like it with lots of cocoa, sugar and a tiny pinch of salt instead of the pre-made mix. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked when I noticed Sy hadn’t moved. He stood in the same spot, arms crossed over his chest and frowning at the ground.

“Nothin’,” Sy scratched his scruffy cheek before putting his hands in his pockets, “I’m just realizin’ I have no clue what your favorite show is even about.”

Sy wasn’t really the binge-watching type. Actually, he wasn’t really the watching type period. Occasionally he would hear about a new show or movie that he specifically wanted to watch but other than that he normally did his own thing when I watched my shows. That was why we had our main living room upstairs and a movie area downstairs.

“I’ve explained it before, haven’t I?” I took another sip of my hot chocolate, humming in satisfaction.

“Sort of,” he shrugged. “You said it was a guy pretendin’ to be a psychic but I never understood why the boxset had a pineapple on it.”

“The lead actor ad-libbed a line with a random prop pineapple in the pilot and the showrunners ran with it. The blueberry is from a line in the second season and it refers to their little blue hatchback.”

There were numerous magnets on the fridge with silly quotes from the show or fanart which was how Sy knew about the fruity references but not the actual plot of the show. I also had a habit of humming the theme song around the house when I was feeling particularly perky.

“Huh.” There was another moment of silence before Sy seemed to shake off whatever thoughts were going through his head. “You need me to put a DVD in for ya?”

“No, I think I’ll stream it while it’s available. That way I don’t need to get out of my blanket burrito to change seasons.”

With a nod, Sy kissed the top of my head and left me to pick out an episode. I didn’t really know which one to watch so I found a number generator on my phone and had it pick one for me. I wasn’t currently doing a rewatch so there was no reason to follow any particular order.

To my surprise, Sy returned with snacks and a beer right as I prepared to press play. He had swapped out of his work clothes for a pair of grey sweats and an old army shirt.

“I thought you had stuff you wanted to finish in the garage?”

He dropped by my side with a groan. “Changin’ the breaks can wait until next weekend. I’ll sit with you for the evenin’ and take care of the rest of the chores tomorrow.”

“What about supper?”

“Food will be here in an hour.” One large arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Now, what do I gotta know before we start?”

Nervous energy passed through me and I had to actively try to contain my excitement.

“There’s nothing specific to know for this episode but in general? We never skip the opening or ending credits, I will sing them every time and if you see the hidden pineapple you have to point it out.”

That seemed to pique Sy’s interest. If anything, it would give him something to focus on if he got bored halfway through which I really hoped wouldn’t happen. He set a bowl of popcorn on his lap and nodded for me to start the episode. Smiling to myself, I sank deeper into his side and leaned my head on Sy’s shoulder.

I was feeling better already.

[poledancingdinos]

Lay your Hands on Me

Summary: Eskel ends up stranded after a storm at the height of breeding season. A witcher gets called in to deal with him.

Warnings: monster smut, breeding cycles, oviposition, egg laying Pairing: Geralt/Eskel Rating: Explicit

For @witcher-and-his-bard who asked only for shark!eskel. Sorry this is…a lot more than that lmao

Read on Ao3

It’s his own damn fault he ended up here in the first place.

He’d known about the storm blowing in, had felt it in the water and seen it in the darkening light of mid-day, but he’d been stupid with heat and with no one to spend breeding season with, well.

He’d been on his way to the last brooding place he’d participated at last season and out in the open ocean when the storm hits. It’s a stupid place to be and if he’d been paying attention with even half his brain, he would have known to wait, would have known to take a different current, a different path.

Instead, he finds himself buffeted in open water, tossed around without any real control over where he’s going. He tries to fight the roughening current for a bit, but it quickly becomes obvious that it’s a losing battle.

He wishes he’d have fought harder when he ends up washed up, in the middle of the night, amidst tidal pools he’s not familiar with. And when he tries to leave after the storm has calmed? Well.

The tide doesn’t usually come this high, and even though he waits for the evening, waits for the rising tide, it’s still depressingly far out, too far for him to reach, and crawling for it would leave him too exposed for too long.

He’s already seen humans in the short time he’s been here, from a distance. They’ve seen him, he knows, but they’re not interested in coming any closer, too afraid of him and his sharp teeth, his strange appearance. He’s a mer, no siren, but he can’t expect these humans to know the difference, even if he looks more akin to a shark than one of those…things. They know he’s a potential threat and they know he’ll as soon kill one of them as they will him. So. He’s…a little stuck.

He spends his days submerged in the little tide pool, keeping himself as wet as he can. It’s just deep enough to reach his shoulders, and he can make a meager meal out of the little fish and crabs that have made the tide pool their home, but it’s slim pickings. He knows he won’t survive here long. Either he’ll need to brave the stretch of dry land between these pools and the tide, or he’ll die. He’s just…weighing his options.

Keep reading

[poledancingdinos]

Jaskier lies on his side and lets the sweat cool on his bare skin. The post-sex haze refuses to fade so he leans into it, revels in it. Behind him, the sound of Geralt’s fumbling is so distant even though Jaskier knows they are only a few feet apart.

The mattress dips. Soft lips are pressed to Jaskier’s biceps, slow and lazy. Tiny kisses pepper across his shoulder but Geralt doesn’t seem to be eager to move up. Instead, his attention stays there on the thickness of Jaskier’s arm and moans into his skin contently.

“Most people don’t spend that much time there, you know?” Jaskier turns to look at his witcher with heavy-lidded eyes. The curtain of silver hair blocks his view.

“I like it here.” Geralt presses another open-mouthed kiss with a pop. “It’s my third favorite part of you.”

Surprise replaces the fog in Jaskier’s mind very quickly.

“Wait,” he says, “there’s a list?”

“Hmm.”

Amber gold meets cornflower blue, warm and indulgent. Geralt is in no rush to explain, which only serves to stoke Jaskier’s impatience.

“Why arm? And why third? What else is on the list? Geralt of Rivia, I demand answers, and don’t you think you can grunt your way out of this one!”

Geralt’s hand wraps around Jaskier’s biceps and squeezes gently. His palm is so hot it feels like a scorching brand.

“Because you are strong here, Jask.” Despite the teasing, Geralt’s reply is unexpectedly serious and his tone contemplative. “You are stronger than I ever imagined.”

Jaskier snorts. “That’s the effect of wearing puffy sleeves all the time. Hides all the assets.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t hide.” Another kiss right above the elbow. Oh, Geralt is in a spoiling mood tonight.

“And stand next to the mighty White Wolf? I don’t think so, darling. I may be strong, but it’s nothing compared to you.”

Geralt’s brows furrow. He almost looks offended.

“Allow me to disagree, poet.”

With those words, Geralt’s hand trails down on Jaskier’s arm, leaving behind goosebumps along the way. He nudges Jaskier’s hand so their fingers thread together.

“Your hands. Second.”

The kisses on the back of Jaskier’s hand are featherlight and so careful. He watches with fascination as Geralt gives each knuckle equal attention before moving to his wrist. Beneath the thin skin are the once-broken bones that used to keep him up at night—not anymore, not when he’s all healed with Geralt at his side every step of the way.

Jaskier smiles. He realizes that, at this moment, he loves Geralt even more than the last. It should be an impossible endeavor, but somehow, he manages.

“The things you overcame, Jaskier, showed me how strong you are. Never doubt it.”

His witcher is being too sweet. Jaskier needs to kiss him senseless for it later. As for now, curiosity is getting the better of him.

“And what’s your first? What is your favorite feature of mine, my love?” The adoration overflows in Jaskier’s voice but he pays no mind.

Geralt takes his time soothing the non-existent aches of Jaskier’s wrist before putting it down. His palm cups the cheek of Jaskier’s ass, massaging at the sore spot he left earlier that will definitely bruise the next day. Jaskier is giddy with excitement.

“Should have known it’s my ass, you brute. Here I am, thinking you are a man of class—” His tirade is interrupted by the gentle shake of Geralt’s head. “No? Then what is it? My dashing haircut? My piercing eyes? Answers, please. Have mercy on me!”

Jaskier must look a ridiculous sight, pouting and whining like this, but Geralt only lets out a low, rumbling laugh. He loosens his grip and guides the bard to lie on his back. The next thing Jaskier knows, Geralt has plopped down on top of him and buried into his neck.

The position is so familiar that Jaskier settles into it without another thought. He makes sure Geralt’s head is pillowed comfortably and cards his fingers through those silver locks. Hmm, if Jaskier had a list, the long hair will certainly be on it. As for the placement…

“It’s—” Geralt’s fingers are tracing absent patterns over Jaskier’s chest. It tickles a bit. “It’s your heart, Jask. My favorite part of you. The best part of you. Your love, your songs. It’s all…you.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes, all his bardic eloquence stumbling. “I—thank you.”

Suddenly, it is also his heart that’s currently growing three sizes. Is it a terrible time to cry? As if sensing Jaskier’s turmoil, Geralt nuzzles into his neck a little to offer silent support, but it only makes it worse.

Jaskier sniffles as a grin breaks out on his face.

“Your heart is my favorite too. Just in case you were wondering.”

[poledancingdinos]

Geralt Masterlist

Oneshots

Made of Stone, Heart of Gold

Series

The Road to Remembering (Complete)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four,

Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

The Offering (Complete)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four,

Part Five