#SY GIRL MOVE I WANT HER

[peanutpinet]

OK HAI I HAD AN IDEA FOR INNOCENT READER X SYLUS (or normal reader), so. innocent reader and sylus just had a baby (like around crawling age) and mc is cooking and the baby just crawls off because she saw sylus for like 2 seconds and follows him into a meeting and sylus notices her (she starts babbling) and he laughs as his daughter is now apart of the meeting and when mc finds them shes knocked out on sylus’ chest while the twins coo over her (maybe covered in bloodddd)

Little Dragon - Father Sylus x Mother Innocent Fem Reader

A/N: Hi anon, thank you for requesting! Sorry it took so long and if the story doesn't match your request exactly but I hope you still enjoy the story

Question, do you guys think I should make this into a series? If so, would you guys like to send in more requests of Sylus x Innocent Fem Reader? Let me know!!

Also, imma need to know what you guys think of Caleb's return? Did not expect a blunt yandere/possessive theme for him like, can 22 January come any sooner?!

Warnings: fluff, slight aggressive tone (not sylus), implied "torture", overall wholesome story of Sylus x Innocent Fem Reader with their lil dragon

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest and credit goes to the image's respective owners.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry for not being able to help you for dinner. A sudden meeting came up but I’ll make sure to make it up to you” Sylus murmured as he wrapped his large arms around your small figure, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you were cooking dinner

Though it’s been years since you first dated and two years since you both got married and had a baby girl, you still get goosebumps whenever Sylus is close or does anything intimate

“Sy…it’s okay…but can you like umm, get off? You’re umm…you’re distracting me. I need to cook” you stuttered while you felt Sylus’ warm laughter right at your neck, sending a wave of goosebumps all over your body

“Oh sweetie” Sylus tightens his hold slightly around your waist, not so much that you couldn’t move but enough for you to know his slightly attachment towards you. “Even after all these years, you’re still easily flustered. I thought you would have gotten used to me being clingy”

Sylus pressed a soft lingering kiss on the side of your neck right between your neck and shoulder. “What would your business partners or enemies think off when they see you being clingy like this” you barely uttered, trying to keep composed while Sylus chuckled and gave you a lingering kiss on the side of your neck before reluctantly pulling away

“Who cares about what they think? As long as you and our lil dragon are always with me, I could care less about what everyone else thinks” Sylus mentioned, now standing beside you, rubbing your shoulders

You looked over at Sylus smiling and kissed his cheeks while you were on your tiptoe with Sylus’ hand around your waist to stabilize you. “We’ll always love you, sy. You’re both our first love, our protector, our home”

Hearing you say all this, Sylus couldn’t help but gently hold your chin and softly kissing your lips. To him, your lips were more addicting than anything he had ever tasted; including his collection of wine. “You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that. It makes me want to just forget about the meeting and spend more time with you and our lil dragon”

Hearing Sylus’ words, you turned off the stove and turned to face Sylus. “I know love. But you also need to handle your businesses. You have to make sure that everything is running smoothly. I’ll reward you with lots of kisses afterwards yeah?”

Hearing your bargain, Sylus smirked and pulled you closer. “That better me a promise, sweetie. You know what I do to liars” Sylus leaned down so his lips were right by your ear as he nibbled them a bit. “I’d punish them”

Feeling the heat rushed to your cheeks, you immediately shoved him backwards. “Okay okay, I get it. Don’t forget to kiss your lil dragon before you go to your meeting”

Sylus let out a rough sigh as he kissed your cheek once more before walking to the playmate where your daughter fell asleep after playing for a while. Seeing your daughter sprawled across the playmate with her crow and dragon plushie, Sylus kneeled down and lifted her, bringing her closer to him as he placed a gentle kiss on top of her head, nose, and cheeks.

“Sorry lil dragon. Daddy got some work to finish off but I promise I’ll finish up quickly to come back to you and mommy. Don’t trouble your mommy okay? Otherwise, daddy is going to get punished by mommy”

Sylus chuckled as he gently placed his daughter back on the playmate, making sure to not wake her up as he pulled her blankie on her then slowly got back up and headed to his meeting room; not knowing that his daughter was actually awake when he kissed her.

Neither you nor Sylus noticed but when your daughter felt Sylus’ lips on her face, she started to wake up but knowing your daughter, she was quite a calm baby that sometimes the both of you would often miss when she was awake unless one of you actually paid attention closely.

Without either of you knowing, your daughter crawled to follow Sylus into his meeting room which he didn’t close, allowing her to crawl into the room which didn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room, including his business partner.

“W-what the? A baby?” Sylus’ business partner and men who were on guard, worried that Sylus brought in additional security all of a sudden

“D-dadda!!” the baby crawled over to Sylus, ignoring the presence of powerful men in the room because she only had one thing on her mind and that was getting to her dad

“What on earth is the meaning of this, Sylus?” his business partner scowled

Sylus didn’t even bother to reply to his business partner and kneeled on the ground, waiting for his daughter to crawl over to him before scooping her up and praising her for crawling. “That’s my baby girl. Such a strong and resilient little one just like her mom”

The baby giggled in Sylus’ arms as he sat back in his chair, letting his daughter cuddle with her father, ignoring the unpleasant stares in the room and played with Sylus’ necklace. “What? Never seen a baby before?”

“No. More so irritated that our conversation is interrupted. You’re not the only one that’s busy around here” his business partner scoffed and Sylus held back using his evol when his daughter is around

“Is that so?” Sylus tried not to sound irritated to not scare his daughter as he patted her back, bringing her to his chest where she snuggled closer

“One can never be so sure with you, Sylus. Who knows, that little menace of a child might actually be someone that’s shapeshifting. Or is this part of your plan, Sylus?” the business partner went on to the point that Sylus’ daughter cried as she was able to detect that she was being called out and insulted

The moment his daughter cried, that was Sylus’ breaking point. He cooed his daughter, telling her sweet things in her ear while patting her small back, making her cuddle him like a baby koala to its mother.

“The deal is over. See to it that these low lives are punished for talking about my daughter like that” as Sylus stood up, both Luke and Kieran along with his other men pointed their weapons at his business partner.

“Come lil dragon, how about we go play for a bit, yeah?” Sylus cooed his daughter who giggled and snuggled her cheeks against his while Sylus brought her to his special room in his office that he built when you were pregnant with his daughter

Sylus built the extension room to his office specifically so that you can take care of your daughter if you ever got bored waiting for him during a meeting or anything else. Sylus made sure the room had everything that you would need. A big enough bed, baby clothes and essentials, a small connected bathroom (when we say small, Sylus meant the size of a regular apartment bedroom) along with some books and toys. But the best thing about it all was that it was babyproof, soundproof, and safe from potential disaster.

By the time you finished cooking dinner, you went over to the playmate, about to wake your daughter up when you realised she was nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, you frantically rushed to Sylus’ meeting room where Luke and Kieran were cleaning up the place and pointed at the extended room. Without wasting anytime, you opened the door to see your daughter fell asleep on Sylus’ chest while he patted her small back, watching some cartoons for babies.

You smiled at the sight, walking closer and grabbing a blanket to wrap around yourself with your husband who welcomed you with an open arm and smile and your baby girl.

Sylus kissed the side of your head, apologising for not bringing your daughter back when he noticed her coming into the meeting room. “Sorry sweetie, I can’t help it when she crawled all the way to me and even extended her little hands at me. You know I’m weak for her and you”

Smiling, you shake your head and kissed his cheek. “As long as there’s no violence or cursing in front of her, right?” Sylus immediately shook his head. “Never. Not while I’m around”

“Then all is good” you laid your head on Sylus’ shoulder while he used his free hand to stroke your hair. “By the way, where’s your business partner? How did they react when they saw our babygirl in here?”

Sylus stopped stroking your hair for a moment before giving you a shrug. “That’s non of your concern sweetie. But I’ll tell you this much. Anyone who made our lil dragon cry will get the wrath of her dragon father”

Shaking your head, you decided to not further question him and enjoyed this moment with your little family while Luke and Kieran secretly cooed at the sight, taking lots of pictures to keep for all of you.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

Description: Captain Syverson learnt that the only way to have her was to ask her hand in marriage. So he did just that. And she was all his now, both to hold and to possess.

Pairing: Soft-Dark!Captain Syverson | Sheikha!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Captain Syverson. This is a mature story with dark undertones so kindly browse at your own discretion. Please note that this piece is only a work of fiction that in no way aims to reinforce or propose any stereotypes to any ethnicity or race. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Syverson, he is lowkey messed up, smut with plot (I am sorry), possessive behavior, his obsession with her chastity, naive!reader, size kink, biting (it's Henry and his canines ffs), boob play, manhandling, power imbalance, arranged marriage, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, m!dom, f!sub, he's a man, misogyny, age gap (reader is 20's, Sy is early 40's fight me), he's lowkey intimidating, slight spanking, allusion to bondage, manipulation, slow burn-ish, maybe more dialogue than necessary, p-in-v penetration, corruption kink, no use of 'Y/n'. 

Note: Her father is not the mean Sheikh from the movie lmfao. Reader doesn't even have to be Iraqi, just Eastern that you can TOTALLY imagine yourself as because it's a frickin' story for God's sake! Ps, This blocked me so hard mid-write I nearly abandoned it lmfao, I need a break! 

.

Captain Syverson had always thought the notion of the first touch buzz to be foolish. To quote him in his own words, the electric touch that people claimed their beloved aroused within them was nothing more than a steaming pile of horseshit. 

Until now. 

As his thick and coarse battle hardened hands cupped the side of the tender face of his dear wife, the Captain's thumb darted out to quickly glide across the perfect arch of her cheekbone before it moved down to the bow of her lips, his body combusting into a thousand flames of raw desire. 

Her skin was so tender he feared it may come off if he pressed on it too hard. The structure of her body that adorned her traditional wedding attire seemed so fragile in this moment next to him and in his big old bed that the thought of ever manhandling a thing as delicate as her terrified him. The contrast of her usually confident and intelligent countenance was striking in quality to the humility with which she now offered her submission to him. 

His suspicions against his body and strength increased by the passing minute; he felt petrified to even breathe too easily near her. The fear that it may damage her in some way haunted him and filled his lungs with dread. It was not that she was the most petite thing that he had ever seen or she held resemblance to an adolescent in terms of size or any of that weird shit, no. 

It was instead the way in which her head bowed in just the perfect way so it indicated respect and submission; not so high that it would seem that she was trying to deny him his station but not so low that it became off-putting. It was an acknowledgement to his power in their dynamic; an agreement of a lifetime. 

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

There was simply no way he was going to make it through the night with his sanity intact. 

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

Because even though he wanted to hide this girl so safely in his arms for the rest of his days that not even a harsh breeze would be allowed to touch her, the erratic way in which his boiling blood sizzled its way through his veins, The Captain wanted nothing more than to just turn her around, press her breathtaking face into the mattress and take her over and over until she was swell with his litter. 

Or press his bigger body against hers and take her deep and raw until her mind gave up on consciousness  

Perhaps place her between his own legs and feel her mouth around him until his seed spilled from her nose. 

Maybe make her mount him and slap her ass that he just knew would be perfect over and over to keep her going even when she didn't want to. 

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

And he was determined to try his hand at all of them, and more. 

His eyebrows furrowed just a little when she awkwardly pecked his lips for the fifth time in a straight row and refused to give him more, cringing away when he attempted to deepen the kiss. The girl that giggled and covered her mouth on which her red lipstick had already smudged was a dead leaf echo of the confident and liberal sheikha -prized daughter of the sheikh supreme- that critically watched the foreign Captain everytime he was around with her bright and vigilant brown eyes so full of scrutiny that it made him, a grown man, blush. It wasn't his fault, really. Her eyes had the most attractive gleam of intelligence to them and the black khol that lined them only accentuated their beauty more. 

She had always been so elegant Syverson knew he was a goner the first time his eyes had been granted the pleasure of looking at her. Sat aside her father basking in her confidence, silk scarf draped around her head and body in the most perfect way, a form he could only describe as agreeable always clad in decent clothes, fingers adorning rings with colorful stones and modesty dripping off of every single mannerism of hers. 

How could a man not look twice?

And then not consider looking away utterly blasphemous on account of being unappreciative of such godly beauty?

"I- I do not know how to…" Her accent turned his gears just right. "K- Kiss, Captain" oh. 

Of course. 

Blood rushed to his cock that hadn't throbbed like this in a long time. That was, if it ever had. 

And then his sweet, chaste wife just had to call him Captain.

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

The obedient daughter, who was never afraid to voice her thoughts and outsmart every man who dared stand against her with inadequate knowledge of the debate at hand, had happily bowed down to her father's wish that she marry the charming and noble Captain -to them a warrior who was not afraid to fight for his country; a man truly admirable- after said Captain had asked for her hand in marriage when he had realized that that was the only way to have her. 

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

Sure, it had taken Syverson and his rather daft attempts at impressing her some quick-witted answers and astute responses by a rather critical her to realize it.

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

"Well, ain't that just dandy?" Syverson realizes just how heavy his breathing really is when his words come out gravelly and almost forced. She is unable to hold his eyes for very long so she stares at his chest instead, a most remarkable coy smile across her lips. The fact that she looks every other man with a taught unaffected sternness but has blushed everytime their eyes have met after the wedding just drives him all the more insane. 

Her dark eyebrows furrow as she lightly tilts her head to the side. He has noticed that she has some trouble understanding his dialect. So he caresses her cheek again, this time in a reassuring manner;

"I know you'll figure it out soon. You're a clever lil' thing, ain'tcha?" She looks up just long enough to nod with a meeting of their eyes. 

"Yes, Captain" god, even her way of speaking has softened.

The knowledge that he was the only man in this whole wide world whom she treated like this made him want to worship her with his love and devotion in every way possible. 

Because The Captain was naturally a very possessive man who did not appreciate ran through goods.  

"Alright now, just trust your husband and sit back like a good lil' bride, alright?" It was taking him all of his focus to not just push her back and have his depraved ways with her all night long.

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

"Atta girl," before he leaned back in and brushed his lips against hers just long enough to whisper, "now hush and don'tcha try to keep them pretty lips shut on me" he felt her going breathless against him when his mouth fit against the slot of her parted one perfectly; as though it had been created just for him. 

She did her best to keep up with as much obedience as her modesty would allow her to muster but the sensation of his mouth against hers, the scratch of his coarse beard across her delicate skin, the wetness of his tongue that took its time swiping against her bottom lip and the way that he didn't have to break the kiss to know that she had extended her had in his direction to take a hold of him to deal with the intensity of it all, the sheer desperation with which he reached out his fingers and clutched hers in an affectionate way that also had a territorial tinge to it was all too much for her to handle.

An unfamiliar thrill that she had been a stranger to until this moment began to patter through her bloodstream. Her heart pounded, her sweat glands soaked, her face burnt and her stomach fluttered. 

"Captain" was all she was allowed to whisper in the two second interval the man allowed them to recover their breathing. 

"Well, I'll be damned, darlin'" Syverson husked through rushed kisses as he hurriedly helped her lay down with her attire still intact, both too desperate to strip her and wanting to take her as she was, for tonight she looked the most stunning he had ever seen her. "You're so dang pretty I can't even fathom stayin' off ya now that you're mine" a hush of cold breath rushed past her flush lips as her thick eyebrows drooped upwards in reaction to him dipping his face in the curve of her neck.

"I am all yours to do with whatever you please, my C- Captain" her soft hands flew to grab at his shirt as the foreign sensation of a man's body against her skin sent an electric bolt down her spine. 

His body was heavy above hers as he groaned at her response and grinded his bulge against her covered sex, peppering kisses all over her skin. "God damn, baby. Your mama sure raised you up right, didn't she?" A loud squeak resonated in the air when the new husband simply could not hold back his passion anymore and bit down on the inviting flesh of her shoulder, letting out a stomach churning moan at her taste and squeezing her sides as the smell of her fragrance oils hit his nose. 

"Fuck, baby" it took him all of his willpower and the promise that he could go back for more only easier to part from her. "I can't–" sitting up to kneel over her, Syverson pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it somewhere in the room. "I can't hold back no more" as he leaned back down and placed one hand beside her head to keep himself from suffocating her, the way she looked up at him with wonder, timidity, need, sent a pang of pain to his cock. "Talk to me, darlin'" he gathered her wrists in one hand before placing them above her head, now reaching for the clothed bump on her chest. "You feelin' anything?" A soundless breath left her and she shuddered in such a way that her boobs trembled feverishly. 

"S- Strange… a- and… oh my God!" She had to shut her eyes and turn her head to the side when he suddenly manhandled one of her breasts out of the deep neckline of her wedding night dress. Her hands rushed to cover her chest by instinct but her husband's authoritative swat was much quicker and stronger. 

Syverson chuckled at the defensive gasp she let out, a crazed darkness floating in his eyes as he pinnned her feverish hands out of his way, coarse palm now feeling up her other breast that was freed as he spoke. "Ain't no God 'round these parts tonight, baby. Just me…" His lips enveloped hers in a right and hungry kiss. "'N you" the way she nervously gulped when he pulled back to stare into her eyes only added to the fire in his body. "Say, baby" he trailed gentle kisses down her chin, along her throat and then down to the fluffy cushions of soft flesh dotted with flush, erect nipples in the middle. A surprised cry jutted out of her mouth and her fingernails tried to claw at his hand that confined them above her when he pressed one wet kiss on each nub. "Ain't this just somethin' else?" 

The girl had no idea what possessed her to say what she did, but her hips moved faster than her brain could catch on and her lips worked before reticence could hinder her communication. "I- It is, Captain. T- Thank you" of course she had felt arousal before. Of course she had been wet before. Some of those times she had a certain handsome American Captain to thank for, not that she would ever willingly admit it. But she had never known how to relieve herself of it other than a cold shower. 

Her mother had warned her that not every feeling that transpires in one in times of idleness should be chased and she had listened.

But this was not solitary boredom, this was not a devilish lure, her mother wasn't here and it was her wedding night with a man she was slowly becoming sure she would be able to call her dear husband one day. 

If her husband was kind enough to be considerate about what made her feel what she could only identify as exciting, she deemed it a stupidity to refuse the treatment. 

"Aw, baby" Syverson's hands only part from her breasts so his mouth can greedily latch onto them, his bearded lips pressing all over them before his hand nearly snatches her skirts out of his way since the layers seem to be never ending. "To think that I ain't even begun with ya and you're already thankin' me like a sweet little lady" now his mouth traveled to her stomach and the only word he had for its appearance was perfect. A shudder set in her shoulders when his beard scratched her navel before his teeth softly nibbled away on her skin. 

"W- Would you like me to get up and t- take my clothes off, dear?" God damn.

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

"Hold on now, darlin'" he husked as his fingers caressed her nubs, his hot mouth littering its kisses over her skin further down south. "I wanna take you like this first" the readied rise in the middle of her shoulder blades smoothed out and she settled back into the mattress again wordlessly. "Well now, are you gonna be good and keep them arms up high like a good lil' thing or am I gonna have to tie 'em up?" A drawn out moan sounded from deep within her throat when his chin deliberately brushed against her clothed sex, coarse fingers twirling her nipple between them.

Syverson felt an unconscious clench in the muscles of her thighs upon his words finally registering in her clouded mind. "N- No, I- I'll be good, husband. I promise." 

"Atta girl" he praised in a satisfied tone before letting go of her wrists. 

It was after that that his hands roamed free and wild all over her form. The Captain kissed, sucked, nibbled, pinched, groped, licked and bit all to his desire, the growing moans of his bride only encouraging him further. 

"God damn, if these ain't the sweetest damn legs I've ever seen" Syverson licked away the thread of spit that previously connected his mouth to her now bruised hiphone that he had successfully marked as his territory. The fact that no man had ever seen them and the plan that he made to never let anyone do so either was making his ears hot. His sides were becoming sore with need like he was the virgin. 

"And this– fuck, c'mere" he couldn't hold it back anymore. The Captain had always been an ass man and the fact that he was yet to see his wife's backside was making him mad now. Her yelp morphed into a confused giggle when he bundled her ankles in one of his rough hands, having already rid her of her panties, and easily raised both her legs up until her lower half dangling by his hold on her. "Hmmm, I just knew you had a perfect lil' rump stashed in there" his free hand felt her soft cheeks up before he traced his index finger down her crack, cursing at the way they clenched in defense. Then his depravity got the best of him and he wound his hand back and gave a handful of strong blows to her poor behind that started blushing in an instant. 

"Oh– ouch!" Her next nervous giggle made him raise an eyebrow as he divided an ankle between each hand and parted her legs to look down at her. 

"Think this is funny, do you?" The girl quickly stopped herself nervously. "You know who that's for?" He didn't even mind the giggles, if anything they were rather endearing to him. But the timidity in her eyes was way too sweet for him to pass up. She shook her head no. "Bad little girls who make fun of their fellas, that's who." It was the cock hardening way in which her bottom lip wobbled sensitively that dried his throat. 

A young woman once so strong, all commanding and authorative now exposed in such a submissive manner and completely at his mercy. 

"S- Sorry, dear" he hummed, reaching for the mound between her legs to roughly feel her pussy up in blunt gropes. 

"You can consider those as payback for all them times you thought you could get slick with me in front of my boys just 'cause you were the Sheikh's daughter" her eyes widened and she blushed harder than before. 

"I- I–"

"Yes, you" though Syverson's words were crisp, his kiss on her nether lips was tender and perhaps that was the sole reason why she didn't tear up from being reprimanded when she was so vulnerable and hypersensitive like this. "Thought I'd just forget all that brattin' of yours?" 

She had to hurriedly sit up for that one and reach for his hands affectionately. "Oh, no" the pure care in her eyes made his melting heart feel as though it had risen into the sky. "It was only that you were not my husband back then, dear," she tried to make him understand, aware that there were cultural differences that needed overcoming, "mother said good girls owe it to their husbands to treat every other man with a serious attitude and indifference!" 

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

With a woman who was not only intelligent and gorgeous way past his league but one that respected herself with an unwavering devotion towards her spouse. 

"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed with faux surprise that she did not catch up on, much to his expectation. "So that's what it was all about?" Of course he knew. 

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

She apologetically nodded with sincerity. "I swear, my heart." The translation of the endearment caused for his blood to pump through his ears only harder. 

Syverson gave her a small smile before sighing a little. "Well, you see, darlin', it did still hurt my feelings a tad" her eyebrows furrowed in regret so he added just to rub it in that much more; "got me a bit of pride to keep up, y'know?" 

Now she pouted. "I am sorry, love…" Before a bulb went off in her head and she jumped a little to express her excitement, the action causing her naked boobs to jiggle. "Is there a way I can make it up to you?" There. 

"Why, of course!" Fuck, he sounded more eager than a middle schooler. "You gonna have to show that you can make a good little wife" her cheeks flushed as she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. He continued, aware she was as clueless as a virgin.

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

He wished there was a way to preserve it -her- all as it was.  

"Anything you want, my dear" she replied sincerely as she earnestly pressed his hand that she held to her chest. 

The man swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat as his eyes flickered down to where their fingers were intertwined; the valley of her perfect breasts. 

"Good girl" his voice came out much deeper than usual. "Go on 'n' take it out, then" the bride's eyebrows raised to express her confusion as she tilted her head to the side. 

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

Syverson was getting impatient. "That means my pants, darlin'." He chuckled to lighten the effect of the edge that his tone had held. "I mean, can't exactly make love to ya with 'em on, now can I?" Something pulled taught in her chest and she went to avoid his eyes out of embarrassment. 

"Oh… yes" she was breathless as she reached for his fly, face angled downwards. 

"Yeah…?" He drew it out on purpose teasingly, dipping his own head earthwards to try and meet her gaze cockily. "Yeah, yeah?" The man kept going unrelentlessly until she had no choice but to respond. 

"Y- Yes…" Her nervous fingers slipped over the button of his pants many times but she managed to free him at last. 

"Go on ahead now, sugar" he coaxed sweetly, tone in stark contrast to his intentions. "Take it out and let them pretty lil' hands get a feel" her legs instinctively tried to close due to the shame she felt but her husband's huge body hindered her attempt to somehow cover herself. "Well?"

Her eyes darted up to him from where her fingers gingerly rested against the waistband of his boxers and Syverson suspected that she was about to decline because of the way her mouth moved to let out some phantom words. But when he raised a questioning eyebrow in response, she seemed as though it had reminded her of her place against him and she quickly dipped her digits inside the undergarment to reach for his thumping cock. 

The first feel of her fingertips connecting with his hard skin was… indescribable. It was as though time ceased, stilling everything else with it and he was enveloped into a cocoon of pure sensation. She was everywhere and inside. Her heat filled him to the brim. Each brush of her delicate skin against his rougher one felt like the stroke of the flesh of an outworldly nymph. Shivers of ecstacy cascaded down his lower back and he was floating already. 

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the unfamiliar feeling, the moan that he let out along a whispered praise pulling her back in the moment and away from her recoil. The bride's mind reminded her of her duty to her husband and she used her other hand to hold his clothes away so she could uncover his impaler. 

"Just like that, darlin'. Just like that" one of his hands went to tangle in her hair. "Go on and rub it for me, baby. You're doin' real good" his free hand reached for her own sex that had secreted its natural moisture in reaction to the sensations she was being subjected to. He groaned at the feeling of her warm pussy and squished his finger through her plump nether lips. "Tell me what you see" her own body was getting feverish by the second, hips and cunt trying to shrink in on themselves due to how violating his sense tingling touch was.

"I- It's…" She raked her mind for an appropriate answer. But it was all too much for her to handle; the pressure to impress her new husband, touching him the way he wanted properly, obeying him, submitting to his handling and then dealing with his intense gaze. "V- Very pretty, husband. Thank you" so she played it the safest she knew. 

And the girl could swear she felt him twitch in her palm at that, a pang of pain rising in her wrist as she awkwardly pumped him in a vertical manner. 

"Pretty, huh?" A cunning grin spread across his handsome features as he slipped one finger deep within her folds and being the retired playboy that he was, the Captain easily found her pure entrance. "'N' what about the size?" He could not help but moan at the feeling of her balmy walls clinging to his finger. "Ever seen anythin' like it?" Her thighs quivered as his thumb glided over her folds. 

"N- No, husband" she answered timidly, afraid to bruise his pride with an inappropriate or unsatisfactory answer that may pose a threat to her chasteness.

"That's right" now he began to speed up his intrusion of her insides. "'Cause you're all mine, ain'tcha?"  She quickly nodded, letting out a whine as her eyebrows furrowed at the ache his twisting of one of her nipples caused. "Now tell me," he leaned forward to reach for one of her nubs with his teeth, "did ya ever think you'd land yourself a fella with a cock this big?" He spoke through a mouthful before sinking down on her tender boobs, the tips of his sharp canines digging into the soft cushions of her flesh. 

"N- No…" The girl was gasping as she struggled to keep up with his leaking and twitching cock. "T- Thank you, dear!" She added for good measure despite how overwhelmed she was becoming. 

"Tell me, baby" the man loved how his naive wife's features scrunched in discomfort but she still sped up her fist that was wrapped around his cock because he prompted her to, hoisting himself further up next to capture her lips against his. "Do you think yourself lucky that you get to have this here cock all to yourself for the rest of your days?" He could not help but fuck into her hand at the sight of the spit string dangling by a corner of her bottom lip as it connected to the wad of spit that she had just released on his cock after being ordered to do so. He felt her cringe at the feeling of her fingers touching her own saliva as she spread it over his cock. But her resolve to obey him did not falter even once regardless of how shy or uneasy she felt.

And that was how Syverson knew he had found himself his perfect little homemaker.

"I- I do, husband" her voice nearly broke. "Thank you so much" the fact that all of this was visibly strange and even uncomfortable to her because she was not familiar with any of this… 

The Captain could swear that alone was enough to finish him off.

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

Nobody's leftovers; whole in every sense for the beast to take. 

What could he say? Colonel Syverson's prized son always won, no matter what. 

There was a brighter way of looking at his promiscuous dating history that was in stark contrast to his wife's nonexistent one; it could easily be considered as his physical sacrifice in order to realize and reach his full potential as a man for his future lady's well being as well as pleasure. 

A lady that he had found at last. 

"Say it" his command was heavy and the rough skin of his finger was like gravel against the buttery tissue of her slick walls. "Say that you're the luckiest lil' bride for landin' yourself the best damn dick you could have ever hoped for" she began to subconsciously move her thumb out of sync with the rest of her digits to swipe it over his tip each time her hand rose to his apex and he couldn't believe just how close he was already. 

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

But then again it was impossible for the beast to resist his tempting lamb for very long, wasn't it?

"I- I am the luckiest…" She licked her parched lips needily. "L- Little bride for l- landing myself the best d- dick…" Embarrassment burnt her cheeks but pleasing him was more important a priority to her. "T- That I could've ever hoped for…"

He deeply moaned in satisfaction. "My good girl" a quick peck was given to the tip of her nose. "Now tell me, baby. How ya feelin'?" As if on cue, she clenched around his finger with a moan.  

Fuck, Syverson had never really preferred a clueless woman until now.

He could literally demand whatever he wanted from her and she would believe him out of her naivety. 

His perfect pretzel Princess that he could twist into whatever shape that he pleased. 

Or make her do as he desired, for that matter. 

With no one, not even his wife herself, to question him or his ways.

He loved the thought. 

"... S- Strange… P- Pain… but– hnnn!" Her back arched as she suddenly writhed, nearly going white at the feeling of getting her special spot getting tickled for the first time. It was an ability her husband took a lot of pride in; the  renown that he had held in college for being able to find gspots with his fingers alone. 

"Feels real good too, don't it?" The Captain snickered heavily as he began to rock his hips into her hand, feeling himself nearing the brink. 

"Mmh!" She did her best to respond despite the sensory overload, groaning softly when he forces her band of muscles to expand further by adding another finger to her pussy and repeatedly jabbing her sensitive nerves with their blunt tips, the sound of his skin fucking in and out of her liquids getting louder by the minute. "W- Weird… but…" A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face as she gasped, eyes widening when her spine jolted at a particular wave of pleasure. "M- More, please." 

In the blink of an eye, Syverson had pushed her on her back before crawling up her body like a predator. Before her body could process his fingers leaving her into an orgasm denial, his eager cock was pushing into her. The pained moan that escaped her as her body twisted under his was muffled by his mouth clamping over hers. The Captain grunted as his cock struggled to push its way inside her virgin entrance despite the preparation that he had done. The girl's bottom lip pulled away from the rest of her mouth due to the way he bit down on it to withstand the overwhelming pleasure that sparked everywhere within him.  

"Your wish is my command, my darlin' sheikha." 

Syverson found himself praying for the first time to any god, deity or entity that may be listening; to freeze time right here in this very moment and never set it free again.

For he could stay like this for eternities and beyond; buried inside his dear wife and protectively enveloped in her loving arms that had never held another like she did him and never would whilst she moaned below him in a pained ecstasy, clenching and nearly knocking out as she experienced her first ever orgasm.

.

Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ SYLUS | making out (nsfw)

◜Sylus gives up and decides to give his girlfriend some attention. PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE TW: slightly explicit content, +18. minors DNI ── ◜sylus x fem!reader — mini one shot 0.7k words an : I have never, ever, EVER written anything explicit or NSFW. I've been writing for over 10 years but I've never felt it necessary in my fanfics. I've wanted to start making an exception and writing little things, so this is my first time writing something (a little) NSFW. I'm sorry if it's not the best. Another author's note here.

Sylus had his gaze fixed on the papers on his desk but his mind was elsewhere. More specifically on the girl on his lap and the way she was sucking on the skin of his neck.

He had work and important things to do, but his girlfriend was needy and he didn't say no when she asked to sit on his lap. The small kisses quickly turned into something more, soon she changed her position so she was straddling him, his shirt slightly open as she began to mark his skin. Oh god, how he loved letting her mark his skin.

"A naughty kitten." Sylus squeezed her hips and made her pull away from him. When he saw his girlfriend's swollen lips and slightly disheveled hair something twisted inside him. "I can't concentrate if you keep this up."

She gasped, lifting her face and trying her best not to moan. She felt somewhat embarrassed about the way she was behaving but Sylus had shown her that he was a safe place for her.

"Can you take a few minutes?" She looked at him with those eyes that always begged him to make an exception for her. And Sylus was weak, too weak.

"Fine." Sylus gave in, leaning towards her. Before she could respond he captured her lips in an intense kiss.

Kisses with Sylus were always different, sometimes it was intense and almost desperate but without being so rough. Other times it was soft and slow, just enjoying her lips. This time it was the complete opposite of the last thing, his lips sought hers as if he were totally in need.

One of his hands slid to the back of her neck, holding her still to prevent her from moving away from his lips. His tongue explored her mouth with such urgency that it made the heat rise in her body. Suddenly she needed more... she needed much more.

Sylus moved away just a few inches and took a breath for a few seconds before taking her lips again, making her gasp again. Her hips moved softly, needing more... Then she felt Sylus's hardness press against her wetness barely covered by the thin fabric of her panties.

A moan escaped her lips as she felt him press against her. She moved his hips causing a slight friction against her sensitive clit. A growl rumbled in Sylus' chest as he noticed what she was doing, which did nothing to help control the heat he felt in his body. He took her hips and guided her movements slowly, but it wasn't what she wanted, she needed more.

"Sylus..." She threw her head back and Sylus' lips were quick to press against her neck. He kissed and bit her warm skin as he enjoyed the way she rubbed against him.

When he finally pulled away from her neck he noticed the way her lips were parted, letting out soft gasps. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath and the image of his girlfriend in that way and in his lap was too much. He took her lips again in a desperate way, the movements of his hips stopped and suddenly he missed the way she pressed against him.

She moaned as he bit her lower lip. Her hips thrust down almost unconsciously, searching for something to rub against, but Sylus stopped her by squeezing her hips.

"Not yet."

"Sy..." She moaned in frustration, letting her head fall to his chest as her breathing was labored. Her body felt too hot and she needed more.

"I need to get back to work." He placed a kiss on her forehead, letting his girlfriend catch her breath.

She nodded giving in. She didn't want to push him, nor did she want to be that kind of girlfriend who interrupted his work. "I'll go to the bedroom," she murmured, pressing her lips against his.

She finally pulled away from him so she could leave his office. Sylus quickly felt the emptiness and missed the warmth of his girlfriend against him. He went back to his work, trying to continue with what he was doing, telling himself it was too important. But he couldn't get his needy girlfriend on his lap out of his mind.

He gave up after two minutes, he wasn't going to be able to concentrate no matter what he did. He dropped the pen, pushed his chair back and walked away from his desk. His steps were quick and hurried as he walked out of his office towards the room he shared with her. He didn't plan on leaving her wanting more and he certainly didn't plan to stay like that either.

[allpiesforourown]

I wanna know more info of the Binggeyuan roomates au. If he knew SY since they were kids what led him to rapid dating. If not, how did they meet/fall in love. How long until Bingge realizes he’s gay? How long until Shen Yuan realizes? So many possibilities

Okay so first it was an admiration thing.. you know how when you're kids the first person in the friend group to start dating is considered the coolest one? Binghe desperately wants shen yuans approval so hes like "I have to get a girlfriend so Yuan ge will think I'm cool!!"

After that it kind of becomes about making shen yuan jealous. Binghe introduces shen yuan to super hot girls hoping shen yuan will pout and say he's jealous of someone taking binghe away from him :((( it never happens though, shen yuan is completely supportive of his relationships

It's kind of insufferable for binghe because whenever he sees shen yuan talking to someone else, he gets super angry and can't calm down until he drags shen yuan away from them. Him going through girlfriends is his way of saying "see i can find other people too" in a childish attempt to even out the playing field but it never happens, shen yuan just pats his head and says he hopes this time binghe finds the one

So eventually he realizes it's a lost cause and gives up on dating. By the time they move in together binghe realizes he's way in over his head. All of a sudden he's seeing his favourite person in the world 24/7. Shen Yuan adorably half awake in the morning eating binghes food. Shen yuan cuddling binghe on the couch while he yaps through a movie about all the references and lore. Shen yuan walking out their bath in just a towel.

Binghe has a few wet dreams about his friend (!???) and he's like okay I'm just horny. My brain is sexualizing my sweet darling yuan ge because he's the only person I see all day. I have to get a girlfriend. And then he's back to being a fuckboy because he's basically using his girlfriends as a distraction

I think shen yuan getting too close to another man would definitely be the catalyst for binghe finally realizing his feelings. When shen yuan gets close to a woman, binghe can just seduce her and steal her away. What's he supposed to do when yuan ge is suddenly spending so much time with a guy?? Binghe could try to fuck him but if he had to date a man he'd rather date shen yuan- he's not gonna think about that.

Binghe is NOT going to think about how dating shen yuan would solve all his problems. How he'd never have to worry about yuan ge finding a wife and moving out. He'd get to kiss and hold shen yuan and lay his claim in front of everyone. He'd get to be the person who takes care of him forever...

Binghe tries (and fails) to assure himself he's just being protective of his frail friend until some guy actually tries to make a move on shen yuan and binghe snaps and pounces

[secretkinkz]

He tried so hard to let you be in control for once. He has to admit, you were sexy. Your small frame attempting to show dominance. He let you cuff him to the bed, leaving his robe wide open for you.

Sylus couldn't help but chuckle lowly, seeing you come from the bathroom wearing a costume. "So you're a wolf, and I'm…" He chuckled, looking down. "I'm a bunny. Hm, such a small wolf, I'm thrilled to see how you plan to feast on me."

His eyes roamed your body. The thong and tail you wore, really drove him mad. He licked his lips as if you were the prey. His breathing became unsteady as Y/n crawled onto the bed, her breast on full display as she placed the head decor on him. "Don't laugh, Sylus. That's not fair, I don't feel in control." You pouted, crossing your arms as you stood up.

"I'm sorry, dear. I'm just a brat. You know, like you. You're in my shoes now."

She dragged the whip towards him, slightly slapping his erect penis.

Keeping eye contact with him the entire time as she teased the tip with a feather.

"Lower your eyes," Y/n whispered.

Sylus kept his gaze firm. To his surprise, she slapped his thigh, and his gaze was immediately redirected to the red mark on his pale thigh.

He was impressed that she could hurt him.

Sylus's skin tightened feeling your hands barely wrap around his large length. A low guttural moan escaped his throat as he rested his head on the headboard. Y/n stroked him fast, he knew what was coming. Just before he could cum, she stopped. Even though Sylus predicted it, he was still annoyed.

"Stay.." She said shakily, noticing his gaze grow harsher.

Sylus watched as Y/n sat on the chair seated in front of the bed, her fingers rubbing her clitoris slowly. This is what did it for him. He leaned forward, getting a better look. Her soft moans were a melody for him, the sound of her wet pussy swallowing her fingers… It was enough to make him cum. "Sylus." She moaned, completely oblivious to the fact that Sylus had turned the cuffs into dust. Her eyes flew open feeling his tongue on her folds. "Sylus!" She moaned, in confusion. "You've done enough torturing, it's my turn little wolf."

He lifted her, tossing her onto the bed and towering her.

"That isn't fair, Sylus!"

"I'll make it up to you."

His tongue dragged from her lips, breast, stomach, pussy and finally at the thighs. He nibbled on the piece of meat, moving closer but not close enough to her throbbing cunt.

"Such soft purrs you release.." He whispers, flicking his tongue over the lips.

"S-Sylus." She moaned.

He moved his tongue past her lips, using his fingers to spread her wider.

"What do you want, princess?" He asks, slipping his long and slender fingers inside of her hole. "Y-You Sy-Sylus."

"What about me do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me, with your…"

"My what, dear. Do not be shy. You aren't afraid to cream all over it, so say it."

He lifts her hips, nearly burying his entire face in her pussy as he speeds up.

"O-Oh fuck, Sylus. D-don't. I don't want to cum yet, I want your dick. Put it in."

Her toes curled, fighting the urge to release.

"Mhm, good girl kitten." He chuckled, releasing her.

Sylus's phone began ringing, he stood up and grabbed it, making his way back toward the starving sheep in wolf clothing.

"Mister Sylus.."

She watched as Sylus pushed the tip inside, a smirk plastered on his face as he spoke on the phone.

"Don't." She begged, feeling him push the tip in and out repeatedly.

Sylus chuckled

"Boss?"

Sylus hummed. "Go on, I'm listening."

He withdrew, waiting for her to show a sign of relief before slamming into her.

She moaned loudly, before shooting a hand over her mouth.

"Are you okay boss? Are you perhaps interrogating someone?"

Sylus laughed hard, speeding up.

"Of course, I am. Do you wish to hear? They're taking it well, barely making a sound."

Your eyes rolled back as you bit your lip. "I'll leave you be boss."

Sylus hung up and tossed the phone aside, leaning down and kissing her. "Should I-" He tugs at the vibrator in her ass. "Take this out?"

"Yes, please! Please."

He enjoyed hearing the soft moans escaping whenever he tugged at it.

"You'll just have to earn it, kitten."

She whined, reaching between her legs. Sylus grabbed both hands and tied them to the railing.

"Sylus, I'll do whatever you. Please take it out."

"You'll do whatever either way dear."

He grabbed the whip she'd used on him earlier. "Endure and I'll take it out."

He strikes her breast until both are warm and sensitive, her moans and cries making it hard for him to continue holding back.

Sylus removed the plug and placed her leg on his shoulder, drawing his hips back and snapping them forward.

"Sylus! W-Wait!" She cried out, gritting her teeth from his brutal thrusts.

"Ah, good. You're even better in this position, I can see all there is down here." He hiked her leg back further, getting deeper inside.

Her pussy clamped down on his cock, signaling that she was near. Sylus pressed on her stomach. "I'm right here, Y/n. You feel it." He gripped her face, biting her lip and grinding his cock deeper before continuing his rough thrusts.

"When you cry, it only makes me want to go harder."

Y/n's eyes rolled back as her body convulsed. "N-Not inside." Her eyes fluttered open as he pulled out, releasing all over her stomach and breast.

Sylus bent over, taking her lips. "I'll be the bunny next time, kitten."

~~~~~~ A/N: I'll be prey. Always. Anyways, y'all can't even tell I hate using the dick word. P.S> If you see the word STYLUS. Just ignore it.

[syluslnd]

Hi~

How are you? I hope everything's well with you !! I'm the anon that asks about sugar daddy sylus, and I swear it's so so good!! Thank you for writing it!

If you won't mind, can I ask for Sylus that desperate for the reader that the sight of her things is just making him feral. Maybe he has been far too busy, and the reader schedules or time didn't really work well with his, so they haven't met each other much, only teasing each other via video calls or text. Making Sylus and readers both needy and crazy for each other.

And by the way, it is totally okie if you dont want to. Please have a nice day / night !!♡♡

naughty FaceTime calls with your sugar daddy sylus

(note-omg i absolutely loved writing sugar daddy sylus thank you for sending in that request ! I hope i wrote this with what you had in mind)

────୨ৎ────

You were sprawled out on your bed, phone propped up against the pillows as you waited for the FaceTime call to connect. It had been weeks since you last saw Sylus in person.

Both of you had been caught up in your own worlds-him with his line of work and you with your financial obligations. The distance was starting to get to you. Texts and the occasional flirty voice note weren't enough anymore.

When the screen finally lit up with Sylus's familiar handsome face, your breath hitched. His sharp jawline, tousled silver hair and those deep, teasing eyes stared back at you, pulling you in even through the screen.

He looked good, too good-leaning back in what you assumed was his office chair, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tempting view of his chest.

"There she is" Sylus's voice came through, smooth and low, the same cocky smirk playing on his lips. "My favorite little kitten."

You rolled your eyes but a smile tugged at your lips despite the frustration bubbling up inside you. "It's been too long sy” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite how needy you felt.

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "I know, kitten. Believe me, I've been feeling it too. Been thinking about you more than I should."

You knew what he meant. The FaceTime calls, while fun, were never enough. You missed the feeling of him close, the way his hands would grip your waist or tug at your hair. But for now, this was all you had.

"Show me what l've been missing” Sylus's voice dropped to that husky, commanding tone that always got under your skin. His eyes darkened, his smirk fading slightly as he focused entirely on you. "I've been imagining it all day."

Heat rushed through you at his words. You bit your lip, fingers grazing the edge of your tank top, teasingly playing with the strap but not pulling it down just yet. "What makes you think you deserve to see anything?" you teased, trying to keep your cool despite how badly you wanted him.

Sylus's gaze narrowed, his lips curving up into a dangerous smile. "You've been busy teasing me all week,time to make up for it sweetie” He leaned closer to the camera, his eyes devouring the sight of you, even if it was just pixels on a screen. "Don't make me wait."

You shivered at the intensity in his voice, your fingers moving almost of their own accord as you slowly tugged the strap of your top down your shoulder. You could hear Sylus's breath hitch slightly, his eyes glued to your every movement.

"Good girl” he murmured, his voice like velvet, soft but laced with control. "You always look so fucking perfect, don't you? Always know just how to drive me crazy."

You smiled at his words, the familiar rush of excitement flooding your veins. "You know, I could say the same thing” you replied, your voice dipping lower. "It's torture seeing you like this and not being able to do anything about it."

His chuckle was dark and knowing. "I'll make it up to you soon” he promised, though the promise was more like a tease in itself. "But for now..." His eyes dropped lower on your screen and you followed his gaze, realizing exactly where he was looking. "Why don't you show me how much you've missed me?"

Your heart raced at his command, your body already responding to the need in his voice.

You shifted on the bed, adjusting your camera angle slightly as your fingers grazed your skin,hand moving lower and lower,to your breast to your stomach,teasing yourself just enough to make him squirm on the other side of the screen.

"You always make me wait" you murmured, pouting slightly as you ran a hand down inside your panties, deliberately slow, knowing it would drive him crazy. "When are you going to take care of me properly?"

Sylus's hand moved off-screen and you could tell he was tense, trying to keep his cool despite the obvious need in his eyes.

"Patience, kitten" he whispered, though you could hear the strain in his voice. "I'll take care of you when I get my hands on you."

Your pulse quickened at his words and you couldn't resist teasing him a little more.

"You're going to have to do better than that if you want me to behave" you challenged, your voice dripping with mischief.

Sylus smirked, leaning back in his chair again, clearly enjoying the game. "Oh, I'll do better, trust me kitten" he growled, his voice thick with promise. "But for now... why don't you be a good girl and show me how bad you've been?"

You blushed at the command, feeling the heat build between your legs as his words sent a jolt of pleasure through you. You shifted again, your fingers moving inside of you as you bit your lip, trying to keep some semblance of control. But Sylus wasn't going to let you off that easily.

"Don't be shy” he cooed, his eyes never leaving the screen. "You know how much I love watching you. It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

The tension between you two was unbearable, the distance making every second feel even more charged. You were both so desperate for each other but neither of you wanted to be the first to crack, to admit just how badly you needed this.

But as your fingers began to move more rapidly with the same repeated motion,you began to feel your tummy’s core tensing

Sylus let out a low groan that sent shivers down your spine. "Fuck, I miss you” he breathed, his control slipping just for a moment.

"You better” you teased breathlessly, feeling the heat in your body build with every second. "Because I've been thinking about you every night, Sylus. Every single night."

His eyes darkened at that and you could see the tension in his jaw as he tried to hold himself together. "You know what I want to do to you when I finally get you back in my arms?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous but filled with a need so raw it made your breath catch.

You swallowed hard, anticipation curling in your stomach. "Tell me” you whispered, your body aching for him, even if it was just through the screen.

He leaned in closer, his eyes locked on yours and when he spoke, his words dripped with sensual promise. "I'm going to ruin you, kitten. Make up for all the nights we've spent apart. You won't be able to think of anything but me."

Your breath hitched, your entire body responding to his words and for a brief moment, the world faded away. There was nothing but Sylus, his voice and the electric tension that crackled between you.

[honestsycrets]

hi !! i love your writings so much, especially the Miguel ones (SPECIFICALLY THE ONE WHERE HE IS A DAD AHA-)

May I request a Miguel O'Hara fic/ blurb/ ( anything, really :D ) where he does the skin to skin contact with his newborn baby girl? thank you so much !! <33

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x wifey!reader

❛ tags | fluff, family fic, post-birth scene, papa!miguel, Spanish is not translated.

❛ sy's notes | the amount of baby fics in my inbox—

Miguel never wanted to cause you pain. Less so, be responsible for it. The pain was a sacrifice that you were willing to make-- because you loved him. Pleading for a child, his little Mireya was all his idea. In your mind, it was only right that if you carried her for nine months, he would be the first to hold her. 

For all the nights of stroking your stomach and waiting in longing, he finally had what he wanted-- he finally had his little daughter. Her tiny little body was eclipsed by his massive muscle. She was impossibly small. He felt like a peasant or a beast, her small body enveloped in his bare arms. 

“Mi amor,” your exhausted voice was recognizable, but it didn’t register. Nothing did. He peeled away the paper-thin blanket from her plump lip for his first look at his little girl. His body felt impossibly warm, emotions bubbling in warm mirth and deep pride. “Can I... see her?” 

He doesn’t want to ignore you, but the little girl in his arms commands any ability he would have had to be a useful husband. He truly tried to be over the past nineteen hours of labor. Now, he’s busy being a father. 

“Miguel? Mireya should do skin-to-skin now,” the spider woman aiding your labor called. You willed her down with your hand and shook your sweat-slicked head at her. It was better to change the soiled sheets than to deal with Miguel. She nodded. 

“He needs a minute.”  For nine months, Mireya felt more like an idea than an attainable reality. Miguel did everything to make sure she was safe. Now here she was, her puffy lips petal pink. He knew her eyes would be the warmest shade of brown he’s ever seen, even with them firmly held shut. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be gorgeous. Miguel nestled her with practice in one arm, ghosting his index finger over her tiny button of a nose. After a few moments, he swayed toward the bed where you lay, body swollen and achy. You grimaced as you moved, your core red-hot. The spider woman made herself scarce, a lopsided smile on her lips.

Your fingers fluttered over the clean sheets to invite him over. Miguel complied with your wishes. He settled on the plush bed, shifting Mireya out of her warm blanket and onto his naked chest. Her small chest was against his, throwing his hand underneath your neck to urge you closer. Mireya’s soft cheek plastered against Miguel’s chest, their breaths heaving in near unison. Her peaceful rest seemed to relax something in Miguel as well, stroking her back as she slept, so impossibly small.

It was easy to be jealous of the way he looked at her— in full admiration, rapture, and pure love that you simply could not measure up to. You glanced at your little daughter, a smile pulling at your lips. For your part, you were unable to understand that this little girl, whose chest moved in time with Miguel’s, was yours too. It would come, in time, but for now, you were enamored with the delight that strikes Miguel's normally trained face.

“Mireya,” you murmured, slipping your finger against her tiny palm. Fully asleep, her tiny digits dangled over your index finger. “Your papa wants to see your eyes.” 

“Déjela,” Miguel murmured. “She’s tired.” 

“Already protecting her,” you shifted your finger away from Mireya’s hand, tracking the stubble that peppered Miguel’s jawline. “Where does that leave me?” 

Miguel clicked his teeth as your hand flicked off his chin. 

“Don’t be jealous already.” 

“Mmm,” you settled your head down, heavy eyes shifting shut. “I have to be. You’re a hard man to keep Miguelito.”

"Tch," as if giving him a child wouldn’t keep him busy. Miguel’s eyes tracked his small daughter’s soft breaths to your head that rested on his shoulder. His familia was complete, fully and wonderfully complete. As long as he didn’t get another case of baby fever, it would hopefully say that way. For now, it was just right.

“Gracias, Mami.” 

“Hm? For what?” 

“Por mi hija-- for Mireya.” 

[salemwasnteverhere]

Not a request anon here! Like, real, this is not a request, I'm near my bloody month and my hormones are raging, I brainrot abt my man Sylus and want to share it

Sylus is a big guy, right? He's tall, got a cake back and front, and he's muscular, we all knew he's definitely have a size kink. His girl definitely would looked petite if she stands next to him.

I can see his partner would be "Ooooh sex with Sylus must be good, look at that body" At first, and then when they want doing the deed, after all foreplay and prep to make her wet and stretching her-- Sylus finally take off his pants, she saw his D she went like 😲😧😦😐😶, "No. It's not going to fit."

"Yes, it will"

"No. It's not. Why is it so big?? Did you have a surgery down there to make it big?! No, no, it's definitely hurt!"

That made Sylus scoff and then she found herself being pressed down on the bed with Sylus weight, her eyes rolled back as Sylus just stay still with his D buried, balls deep and he slightly moved his hips in circular motion in slow--and agonizing way (for her), which made her curl her toes and kicking her feet into the bed.

It drives her fucking insane how her cervix being pressed by his D and he just doing that fricking little movement. And this man would keep kissing and inhaled back of her head scent, while his hand are pressed against her bulging belly, bullied her and giving affection at same time.

He barely moved but he can feel she's just came. "Hm? What was that? I though you'd found mine would make you hurt." He said this to tease her and that made her fucking mad (and desperate)

"Shut up! J-just move Sy! Please...?"

"No. This is what you get after accused me having surgery to make it big."

But in the end he'll give her what she wants after teasing the hell out of her

Hajshsb sorry, if you don't like it that I share it here, I won't do it again ;;;

UGH I LOVE WHEN YALL SHARE THOUGHTS WITH ME LIKE THIS!!!! 💕

No cause have you seen his bulge in snapshot? There's a BEAST in his pants. And he would be so offended if you asked if he got surgery and then he'd get all sassy.

"Sweetie I'm all natural 😒"

"Bullshit."

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Part 7:

One Day We Won't Be

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: Confrontations and conversations.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, ANGST, FLUFF. This part is plot with porn. Flashbacks, mentions of teenage pregnancy and heartbreak, the past in human form, important conversations with an important question. 😉. Black girl magic, natural hair care, supercenters. Shower sex, hand job, slight choking, finger f ucking, raw p in v, size kink, squirting, squirting oral sex, praise kink.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the seventh installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

——

May 2004

You and Sy were in your own little bubble most of the time you were at the prom. Of course you had fun with your crew, but you two were all over each other, and after a couple of hours, decided to cut out and head to the chalet. On your way out, you were stopped by Jeremy Atkins, who hadn’t spoken much to Sy since he’d broken up with Becca six months earlier.

“They are about to announce Prom Court, Sy. Word on the street is that you’re a cinch for King.”

Sy looked at you, and then back at Jeremy, sighed, and whispered in your ear.

“You mind if we stay just a little while longer, Buttercup?”

You pouted just a little, then grinned up at Sy, going on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“Only if you keep the crown on all night. I mean allllll night.”

You giggled as Sy chuckled and grinned down at you.

“Even if I’m king, your wish is my command. Here. I see the goosebumps raising on your arms.” 

You grinned as Sy draped his tuxedo jacket around your arms. Now you were ensconced in his warmth and his smell. 

Stephanie Prince, the Student Body President, walked up to the mic on stage and said lots of words before announcing the court. You were too wrapped up in Sy to pay attention. When he was announced King, Sy picked you up when he stood, causing you to squeal before he put you down. Your classmates either laughed or rolled their eyes.

Sy reached the stage and winked at you, who was standing right in front taking pictures of your man.

When Becca was announced queen, you curiously watched her gain the stage. Becca’s high waisted ball gown was a little out of fashion, which was weird for her, but you figured she just wanted to attract attention. After they were crowned, Sy moved to get back to you as Becca stepped up to the mic.

“Thank you for this honor. I just want to make one announcement.”

Becca moved her hands around her waist, unfastening her skirt. Everyone gasped as they thought she was stripping, but she only revealed a sleek dress underneath.

And a very pregnant belly.

“I will be having a baby in August. And the father is your Prom King, Jake Syverson.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!?!?” 

Carla yelled it as the rest of the room was silent.

Your eyes searched for Sy, who was frozen halfway down the stage steps. His eyes were wide as he gaped at Becca.

She looked back at him triumphantly.

“Remember the night of your 18th birthday, Sy?”

Your mind raced. Sy’s birthday was in October, and right before you two got together. That would mean that Becca was almost 7 months pregnant. You felt the blood rushing in your ears as you started walking backwards toward the door.

His mouth dropped open as he stared at her, then, when he heard you sob, he searched for you in the crowd. 

You were out of the door, Carla and Tiffani and their dates hot on your heels, in under two seconds, flat.

—-

June 2024

You woke up with a start and stared over at Sy, who was sleeping peacefully beside you in his bed. This time it was you who watched him sleep as you processed the fact that Sy was here with you now, and what happened 20 years ago was over and done with. Your mind was trying to trick you with fear and anxiety. 

Sy had reached his goal of convincing you to give this a try this weekend, and you decided to risk it all by checking out of your AirBnB early and taking your rental back to the airport that morning because you wanted to spend every possible minute with him. 

“Now who’s bein’ a creep, Buttercup?”

Sy’s gravelly voice was heaven as he gathered you up in his arms, and the smile on his face was everything. 

You snuggled in with Sy, kissing his neck and enjoying his warmth. You let the skin on skin contact regulate your erratic heartbeat from the dream.

“Hmmmm. I wasn’t stalking you, promise Syverson, just thinking of everything I need to do to get ready for my interview tomorrow. Need look presentable and be packed, because my interview is at nine, my plane leaves at two…”

You trailed off as you thought of how your outlook on Monday had changed from when you’d first arrived back in town. What started as a lark was now serious. You were beginning to think that you wanted this to work between you and Sy, and getting this job would play a big part in that.

Sy looked down at you and kissed your forehead.  

“Come back to me, Buttercup. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.”

You looked up at him, “What?” 

You laughed a little, because you were unsure what he was speaking about.

“I can tell when you get into your head. Whatever it is, we can get through it.”

You continued to stare into his eyes and then he nodded.

“And I was also talking about after you fly away tomorrow afternoon. I’m hoping that you will come back to me and we can continue this new relationship.”

You smiled, because Sy really got you. You kissed his hairy chin and listened to his heartbeat for a minute. You wanted to be there forever. But you didn’t say that.

“Well, I was thinking, I really need to do something with my hair. Want to do a twistout, but I need some products and equipment.”

Sy leaned back to look at you.

“Equipment?”

You grinned.

“Yes, equipment. Black girl magic requires some serious alchemy.”

Sy was interested now.

“What kind of equipment? I got a whole garage full.”

You bit your lip at how cute he was.

“I doubt that you have a hood dryer out there.” 

You lifted your hand to his hair. 

“But you rock these curls, Sy. You might.”

Sy laughed and ran his own hand through his hair to capture yours and bring it to his chest. You flattened your palm to feel his heart beat, which is what he wanted. 

It only beat for you.

“Anything you need, my lady.”

You giggled at his foolishness. Sy laughed with you.

“Seriously. Whatever you need to feel confident for tomorrow. It’s a big day.”

You looked into Sy’s hopeful eyes.

“You’re right. I applied on a whim when I saw the opening. It the dream, working for a company that designs and builds small, eco-friendly homes for the unhoused. It’s perfect.”

Sy watched your eyes sparkle, for about the sixth time, exactly the number of times you’d mentioned the company this weekend.

“Even if it's not my dream location.”

Sy smiled at you and grunted.

“Hmph. Avoiding me I see.”

You were about to give a facetious retort, but decided against it. It was time out for all of that.

“It wasn’t just you. It…”

“I know, Buttercup. Just teasin’ ya.”

Then his face turned serious.

“I need to tell you the full truth about something.”

Your heart dropped. 

“I know that ReHome is your ideal and all, but I don’t want you to get into the interview and be surprised. My company, Castle Builders, is the primary contractor for them. We’d be sorta, kinda… working together?”

The way he said it, with his face scrunched up like a little boy, was so adorable, but you were wary.

“And you let me go on and on about it, without thinking of mentioning that?”

You moved out of Sy’s grasp and sat up, covering yourself with the sheet.

Sy sat up and leaned against the headboard behind you, running his hands through his hair again and taking a deep breath. He needed to be careful.

“Yes. Because before this morning, I didn’t want to scare you off.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, giving him a side eye.

“And what happened this morning, Sy? Some bomb sex?”

Sy looked like a little boy again, younger than when you met him.

“You told me that you were mine.”

Your heart did a funny thing as you heard those words. You fought the urge to run.

“You weren’t square with me, Sy.”

You shook your head in disappointment, and he felt terrible.

“Don’t look at me like that, Buttercup. It’s killin’ me.”

Sy put his hand on your shoulder.

“Please. Listen. Don’t build this up in your head to more than it is.”

You didn’t look up at him as you turned your eyes to the sheets and tried to stop the tears from falling.

“I didn’t engineer the interview. I actually didn’t know until you told me last night. And I didn’t tell them to hire you. You got that on lock on your own.”

You chuckled and sniffled, wiping your eyes quickly. Sy’s heart broke, but he didn’t move because he knew you needed space. He was surprised you were still in bed with him.

“I haven’t been hired yet.”

“You will be.”

“You just said you didn’t tell them to hire me.”

Sy smiled and wiped a tear from your cheek. You let him.

“I didn’t. With your qualifications and roots in this town, they’d be idiots not to want to talk to you. Also, your background and experience is a definite plus for the clients.”

You looked at Sy a long time. He knew you. He knew what you and your mom went through back in the day, and he believed in you. So you decided to believe him.

“What are they going to do when they find out about our relationship, Sy?”

He grinned at that. He raised his eyebrow.

“So, we’re in a relationship are we?”

You rolled your eyes at him and tried not to smile.

“You know what….?”

Sy put his hands up and did some fast talking.

“Just kidding, Buttercup. Don’t get mad.”

He took your hand and pulled you closer.

“I think you know I want forever with you.”

You didn’t say anything, just allowed Sy to pull you into an embrace. You relaxed. He continued.

“We are in year two of a five year contract. I figure, by that time the contract is fulfilled, we will be on our way to creating a non-profit arm of Castle on our own…”

You watched how small your hand looked in Sy’s and wondered about the ‘we’ that he just uttered. You decided to chill.

He was worth it.

“Okay, Sy.”

You finally looked him in the eye.

“But no more surprises. I’m serious. If you want this to work, we’ve got to have truth.”

Sy looked down at you, amazed at how beautiful you were, and that you were in his arms.

“Oh, I’ll give you more truth than you can handle, Buttercup.”

He smiled at you angelically and leaned in for a peck on the lips. Then, moved to get out of bed and grinned as he went into the bathroom.

“It’s almost two pm, got to get a move on to build your dream salon. Where would we get this hood dryer?”

You stared at the ceiling, not believing that you and Sy were doing this domestic thing. You arrived in town two days earlier dreading seeing him and now you didn't want to leave. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, seeking clarity and peace.

“The supercenter should have them.”

You said it as you breezed past him, naked and on the way into the shower.

He was staring.

“I’ll never get over seeing you all wet, Buttercup.”

—-

Sy pulled you to him for a kiss as he stepped into the shower.

“Can’t ever get enough of you,” he whispered it in your ear as he handled your ass, his long fingers skimming your wetness.

“Same, Sy.”

Your hands were all over him, sliding over his shoulders with the hot water. You traced his neck, torso and abs, down to the throbbing muscle between you. All the while, you were kissing passionately, his tongue sliding through your mouth as if establishing ownership. 

Your hand slid up and down his cock, expertly now, squeezing in that way that made him groan and throw his head back, giving you a view of the corded muscles in his neck. The way your thumb slipped across the slick head of him made him tremble and you feel powerful. When your other hand slipped down to his balls and tugged, Sy had moved you against the cooler tiles of the shower wall.

“Fuck, Buttercup. You do that so godamn well…too fucking well.”

You went on tip toe for a kiss, sucking his tongue in time as you pumped his cock. Sy moaned in your mouth, then grabbed your throat as he bent further in order to suck your nipples, his lips, tongue and teeth making you quiver. You whimpered when his mouth came back up to your ear.

“You tryna make me spill before I see you come apart for me? Hunh?”

His voice was gravel and rumbled straight to your pussy. Sy’s pupils were blown as he looked at you through half closed lids, mouth open and panting as you worked him with both hands.

His grinned and held your gaze as he slowly inserted two fingers into his mouth and pulled them back out, causing you to tremble.

“Open.”

One word made you close to cumming untouched, and you did as he commanded. He inserted the same two fingers on your tongue. You closed your lips around them and started to suck. His cock jumped in your hands and despite the overhead shower spray, you felt more slick shoot from his tip.

Sy’s eyes rolled back into his head.

“Christ, this mouth, Buttercup. Those hands, so good for me. This. Pussy.”

He actually gasped as he removed his fingers from your mouth into your wet heat and started pumping.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me, baby.”

You rode his fingers as he started fucking you in earnest, the velocity at which his hand moved causing violent sprays of water all around you as you came on his hand.

“So fucking pretty when you cum for me Buttercup.”

You just whimpered as he turned you around, bent you over, and then pushed his fat cock inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so thick!”

“So fucking tight!” 

You both exclaimed at the same time.

Although you’d taken him plenty of times already, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to his girth. Sy was close as soon as he was inside you. Your warm wet heat was his weakness. He clutched you to him from behind as he finally slid home and you pushed back on him as he fucked you. Hard.

Water was jumping everywhere at the force of his thrusts and he created more leverage and a better angle by holding your arms behind your back. 

“Ugh! Feels s-s-so goooddd. Sy!” 

“Come on, give it to me baby!”

You came again on his cock, your fluid competition for the shower spray. 

“Fuck! I gotta taste that shit.”

Sy pulled out and got on his knees to lap you up and eat you out. 

After you came again, he stood up, picked you up and fucked your weak body against the wall. You rode him, clinging to him like a vine until you felt the hot jettison of his cum shoot inside you and drip down your legs along with the steamy shower water.

Next thing you knew, you were being shook awake and you found yourself naked and back in Sy’s bed.

“C’mon Buttercup. I let you sleep for an hour. But we really gotta get going.”

You moaned and rolled over, covering your head with a pillow.

“We can stay in bed. I’ll order take out and you can have your hair in pigtails for the interview.”

You bolted upright in the bed.

“I’m awake.”

—---

45 minutes later, you were bopping along in the grocery section of the supercenter, your cart full of hair supplies, looking for some snacks while Sy scoped out some meat and fish to grill. You were into this domestic shit. Suddenly, a kid, about 8 or nine years old, ran into your cart.

“Ooof! Sorry!”

He was adorable and grinned at you before he ran back to his mother, who was castigating him. 

“Josiah! I told you to look where you are going! Did you apolo– Y/N????”

You looked at the kid’s mother and blanched. Holy shit.

“Becca?”

She looked exactly the same, but older. And she didn’t seem perfect any more.

“Yes. It’s me. I heard you were in town for the reunion, but I always just missed you at the functions.”

She didn’t mention Sy, but if people told her you were at the reunion activities, they’d be sure to tell her who you’d left with. You decided to give her some grace.

“How are you? This your little one?”

Becca looked over at her son as if surprised he was there. She softened, and ruffled his curly hair. You both looked at him and saw Jeremy.

“Yes. he is my little. I have- I have four. Jeremy and I. Jeremiah… she cleared her throat, looking guilty as you both remembered how that pregnancy was announced. Jordan, Jade, and Josiah.”

You inwardly cringed but said, “How cute.”

Becca, chucked her chin up.

“Yes, we went with all J names. I know it’s not cool, but… this is us.”

You felt bad for a minute. Could Becca be looking for your approval?

“Hey… No, I like it….And he’s a beautiful kid.”

Josiah was now tucked under his mother’s arm.

“Yes, and he’s smart, and kind. My road dog.” 

Becca smiled down at him grinning up at her and she looked almost beautiful. She looked back up at you and then her smile dropped. You felt a chill in the air.

“Hey Sy.”

You looked back to see Sy behind you with meat that he reached around you to put in the cart. There was no mistaking what this was.

“Hello, Becca.”

Sy’s back was straight and his tone more formal. You got a glimpse of his command in the service.

Becca’s eyes surveyed the pair of you and she cleared her throat again. 

“You two always did make a handsome pair. You look good together.”

You had nothing to say to that, given your history, so you just stayed silent. The reality of the woman before you destroyed the multiple fantasies you’d had about gouging her eyes out.

Sy put his hand on your waist and drew you back on to him, almost like a shield. Damn, this woman hurt him.

You felt bad for all three of you.

“We do, don’t we?”

Josiah was tap dancing in the aisle now, and Becca shushed him.

“Yes. Well, I’ve got to go get him to soccer. Jordan’s looking forward to football this fall, Sy.”

Becca awkwardly turned her cart around in the aisle and spoke over her shoulder as she fled.

“Me too. I hear he’s even better than ‘Miah.”

Becca grinned as before she turned down the next aisle.

“Just you wait and see. Good to see you, Y/N.”

You both stood there for a second, letting the interaction sink in. It was anticlimactic for you and nerve wracking for Sy.

“You good?”

Sy was worried that this was going to send you over the edge.

“I’m great.”

You turned in his grip and gave him a kiss. 

“Let’s go home. I’m starving.”

The word home made any worries in Sy’s mind disappear.

—--

May 2004

As Sy pulled up to your place after the prom, the other two Powerpuff Girls and their dates were standing guard outside. Sy jumped out and started toward the house.

Carla stepped in front of him. 

"You don't wanna go in there, Sy."

"Don't worry, I got her, Bubbles. Let me pass."

"You don’t get to call me that anymore, Jacob. Turn the fuck around.” 

Carla blocked the way, Tiffani and the crew behind her.

“Please get outta my way."

"No."

"No?" 

Sy glared down at Carla. And she glared back up at him, unafraid.

"Did I stutter?"

Sy turned to Tiffani. 

“Listen, can you talk to her? Ask her to see me?”

Tiffani crossed her arms. 

“Now why would I do that? You embarrassed the fuck outta my friend tonight.”

Sy threw up his hands.

“I didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“Did you, or did you NOT stick your unwrapped dick into Becca Ferguson 6 months ago?”

Sy winced at Carla’s blunt words.

“Don’t get shy now, mutha–”

Tiffani put her hand on Carla’s shoulder.

“Look, I don’t think she’s going, but I will go tell her that you’re here.”

Carla glared at her bestie, but Tiff shushed her and turned to go to your front door. Everyone watched it open and accept her in, while Sy nervously paced beside the Bronco.

Ten minutes later, Tiff came out of the house with a box and his tuxedo jacket. She approached Sy, who stopped moving and was staring at what was in her hands. He looked from what was in Tiffani’s hands to her face.

“No.”

Sy was in denial as Carla approached him with a box of his things.

“Yes, Sy. You fucked up big time. She doesn’t want to see you. At all. These are some things of yours. And your jacket. Be careful. There is something for you in the pocket.”

“No.”

Sy wouldn’t accept the items, so Tiffani just opened the Bronco and placed the belongings in the passenger seat, taking your bag from inside.

“No! Buttercup!!! Y/N!!!!”

Sy charged toward your house as Gavin and Tony blocked him. They did a good job, after all, they were his defensive backs.

“Just go man. Give her some room.”

Sy looked at Carla as if he’d heard her for the first time.

Yes, he’d give you some space and in the morning, you’d talk. He looked at your door again and then down at his boots, kicking a rock before circling around and getting into the truck. He sat there, staring into space for a minute before he started the car.

“Hey, yo, man. You good?”

Gavin was concerned.

Sy shook his head. He wasn’t good. Not at all.

“This is wild, Ya’ know?”

“Yes. Yes it is. Be safe on the road.”

Gavin had little sympathy as he tapped Betty twice, signaling that it was time for Sy to leave.

Sy took one last look at your house, then started Betty and pulled away from the curb. He got home without realizing it, and started walking into his house. He stopped halfway to the door, and then ran back to the truck, diving for his things through the open window. Surely what was in the jacket was a note from you!

Sy knew it was over when he pulled his grandmother’s ring out of his tuxedo pocket.

—---

June 2024

Sy looked at the ring as he held it again. It was so delicate. And special. And you loved it back in the day. He hoped that you would accept it again. His heart beat was erratic and the meal that he’d carefully prepared threatened to come back up. He put the ring back in his pocket, scared that he would fuck up the good vibes of the weekend.

You were reading over your research on ReHome while you sat under the dryer. He smiled as he thought of how charitable you were toward Becca during your talk on the way home from the store. Instead of setting you off, the encounter seemed to calm you down. You were focused on the future, excited about the interview, and flirting through dinner. 

The ease by which you’d settled into his life in mere hours had him shook. He had hope that transcended time, but he was in awe that this really might happen. Sy watched the baseball game, trying to distract himself from you but instead he ended up staring at the screen while thoughts of you ran through his mind. 

You walked into Sy’s living room, clad in only his ARMY t-shirt and panties. You ran your hand over your twists and decided they were sexy. Your confidence was back. Today, you saw the truth. And the truth was that Becca Ferguson was just a flawed woman. And she had tried her best to stop what you and Sy had, but time and fate had you back together. Because even though it was 20 years later, Jacob Syverson still loved you.

And you still loved him.

You leaned against the wall as Sy stared at the television screen. He looked delectable in his grey sweatpants which stretched taught on his thighs and a Castle Builders t-shirt which was hanging on to his muscles for dear life. He caught sight of you drooling over him as he lifted his arm to rake through the curls on his head.

“Why hello there, Buttercup. Or should I call you Ms. Creeper?”

You laughed as you sauntered over to stand in front of him on the couch. He licked his lips and looked you and your attire up and down. He leaned forward and put his fingertips on the back of your knee. 

“I love you walking into my house and stealing my clothes. Looks good on you, baby. Damn good.”

His hand moved up your thigh and you trembled as you asked a question. 

“Who’s winning?”

Sy looked up at you and thought for the hundredth time that he wanted this for life. His heart swelled as he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap.

“I am.”

You snuggled into his chest and nuzzled his neck, inhaling the scent of him and trying not to think of leaving the following afternoon. This was not how you pictured this weekend turning out. You just wanted to stay in his arms.

“Hmmmm, looks to me like it’s the ‘Stros, but maybe you’ll get lucky too.” 

You were grinning up at him when something shiny caught your eye.

You turned your head to see Sy’s grandmother’s ring between his pointer finger and thumb. Suddenly, a sound came out of your throat, a cross between an exclamation, a sob, and a laugh.

“Jacob Syverson!”

You sat up straight on his thigh with your mouth open and your hands covering it and looked from him to his grandmother’s ring.

“Buttercup. Now this is just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, that’s not worth much monetarily, but it means the world to me. I used to think that no one would want it, but my Gran told me that it was for my future wife.” 

You stared at the ring like it was the crown jewels, and of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. Then you looked at Sy. You were ready.

“A long time ago, I said that we were jumpin' the gun, and that we were too young, but I also knew that one day we wouldn’t be.”

You were sobbing now.

“Oh, Sy…”

“I will love you ‘til the day I die, Buttercup. I know this is super fast, but then again it’s taken 20 years. I just can’t help it. I can’t wait any longer.”

Sy lifted you off of his lap and went down on one knee on the rug in front of you. It felt as if there was no air in the room and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

“Will you take this ring as a promise of marriage?”

“Sy… I love you. I do.”

Sy grinned and grabbed the back of your neck for a kiss as you tried to keep your wits about you.

“Now. What exactly are you asking me?”

“I am asking you to marry me, Buttercup.”

——

Hit Reblog if you like it!

Next part here.

[alexa-fika]

Hi!! I was the 👻 anon :3

Ok so I have another request a whitebeard pirates x child reader again

So the whitebeard pirates arrived at a spooky island which is dark and gloom like Mohawk island (forgor the name)

So they find reader sleeping with a small teddy bear but when they got close the teddy bear is alive and trying to kill them because the teddy (Name Mr stitchy) is protective over reader because Mr stitchy See's them as family and leader

The reader wakes up but instead of stopping Mr stitchy they just watch because they hate pirates and pirates we're the reason why they are stranded in the island

But then whitebeard appears then starts hurting Mr stitchy making reader to beg and cry to stop hurting their family

So in the end whitebeard coax reader to coming with them

Also can you base Mr stitchy off this? This idea has been in my mind lol

Sorry if this was long :p I'll make the next one shorter :D

Stuffy Meetings (Whitebeard pirates x f!child!reader)

A/N HERE WE GO I KNOW I SAID NOTHING WAS COMING BUT IT CAME AND WHEN I SAW IT WAS YOUR BDAY I HURRIED IT UP. HAPPY BIRTHDAY . Ngl I thought this was a flop but it may be a cook?? Also don’t worry about request ever being long : ) I hope you have a nice bday. In one of the scene I kept thinking about this photo so just so we share the vizion 🕴🏼

Here Reader is replaced by Dokucha which means Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Man, this place is gloomy,” Thatch mutters

“Why did we stop here again?” Ace questioned, wincing as he stepped into what looked like a pile of bones

“We were running down on supplies; this was the closest Island on the way,” Izou replies

“What can we possibly fin- is that a kid?” Ace questions, pausing right in front of the sleeping child

“She got a creepy teddy too; look at that thing; it’s all stitched up; look, the head doesn’t even fit the body,” he said, poking at the plushie

Mr.Stichy moves around at the sudden contact, his eyes flying open as he begins to take in what is happening around him and the danger Dokucha could be in; he is quick to lunge at the man, branding twin sickles

“Man, what is that thing? Is it a haint!?” Thach yells, taking out his dual blades and parring against the attacher

“What the hell?!” Ace exclaims, looking at the odd newcomer

“Get the hell away from her,” the bear growls, pushing Thatch back with his own weapons

“The hell you talking about, you overgrown plushy,” Thatch said, stumbling back

Dokucha rubs their eyes, slowly waking up at the chaos unfurling. She watched how the bear evaded Thatch’s attacks and lunged for him once again, not making any movement to stop or call back the bear.

“Who’s this kid?” Ace asks while keeping a close eye on the stuffed bear

“Not important, the bear’s clearly dangerous,” Thatch shouted back and lunged for the bear, attacking again

“That bear is quick.” Ace comments, igniting his flames and jumping into the fray

“You want to go?!”

Mr.Stichy narrows his eyes, glaring at the flame man

“You’re no match for us!” the man declared while firing off blasts of flames at the bear. At the same time, Izou aimed his way to shoot down the bear

“STOP!” Dokucha screams, running in front of the bear just as Ace was about to make contact. In just a second, as Dokucha stood in front of him, arms stretched to protect him, Mr. Stichy stood behind her glaring at Ace, who had managed to stop, as he pointed his weapons at him

“What?” both of them say at the same time, looking at the screaming girl

“What the hells is going on?” Thatch says

“Don’t hurt him!”

“Him?” Ace said, stopping his attack

“This thing?. Do you mean to tell me you’re attached to this?” Thatch said in a mocking voice

“He’s all I have left,” they cry

“Where are your parents? Izou questions, putting his guns away and approaching the child, ignoring the way Me. Stichy kept his sickles pointed their way, his red eye ominously digging into them

“They died. It’s only Stichy and me now.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Izou sympathizes while still keeping an eye on the bear as Ace and Thatch glance at each other

“We should take her to the Pops.”

“Are you sure? That bear looks really creepy; I wouldn’t trust it.” Thatch says

“She would still be alone if we let her go; I agree with Izou; we should take her,” Ace says

“ She’s not going with the likes of you.” He growls

“She shouldn’t be on her own,” Ace argues while Thatch puts his sword back into its sheath

“It would be cruel not to,” Izou adds

“Like hell, I will let you take her!”

“Listen, I understand we just met; I know you are wary of us, I understand that, and the decision is ultimately yours, but think about her, do you really think she will be able to survive here alone? Even if she does, do you think she will be happy?” Izou questioned

Stichy stills at that, glancing at the trembling child in front of him and slowly lowering his sickles

“How do I know you are not trying to use her?”

“You don’t, you just have to trust us.” Piped in Thatch

He took one last glance at the child and back at them and back to Dokucha

“Do you want to go?” He questions lowly

She looks at the men in front of her and back at the bear and nods her head

“I want to go with you,” she said, grasping his paws

“Alright,” he said, giving jn

“Don’t worry, little one, we’ll take care of you,” Izou reassures while walking forward to pick her up

She wrapped one hand around him

Instinctively not letting go of Stichy’s hand as they walk to the ship

Izou smiled reassuringly at her while walking to the ship as Thatch and Ace walked a little ways ahead

“This kid’s got no one,” Thatch said, shaking his head

“That’s why we’ll take care of her,” Ace replied while heading for the ship

“This is Whitebeard, but we call him Pops,” Ace said pointing at said Captain

She flinched, looking up, up, up until she was finally able to meet his eyes, tightening his grip on Stichy, who gave her hand a squeeze in silent comfort

Whitebeard was quiet for a few seconds before crouching down next to her

“What’s your name?” He asked her

“Dokucha”

“Dokucha?…” he paused before nodding. “A nice name,” he said while smiling

“Hey, Pops, can we keep her?” Ace questioned

“Oh, now, who’s looking to adopt a child?” Thatch joked as he walked up to them

“Shut up; I want a little sister; I know you guys do too. Don’t deny it.”

“I think we should let her stay,” Izou says, joining the conversation

“Why do you want me to stay so much?” she questions, grasping Stichy’s hand tighter

“You’re alone; that’s no way to be. Especially at this early of an age,” Whitebeard said

“Yeah, plus you’ve got no other family, so we’ll take care of you as such,” Ace explained while Thatch remained silent

“Family?” She questioned

“You’ll be my family?” She mumbled tears growing on her eyes, tears that she is quick to wipe away

She glanced at Stichy, who stood next to her

“But I can’t leave without Mr.Stichy.”

“Who said he would be staying behind?” stated Whitebeard

“H-He can stay?”

“I wouldn’t make you leave you’re only family behind,” He said while picking her up.

“Oh god, Pops, you’re gonna spoil her rotten,” Thatch complains as ace, and izou can’t help but laugh.

Okay I think I like it, I just think I rushed some of the areas but other than that I like how it turned out

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

my girl 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your brother’s friend from work starts hanging out a lot more often. (short!reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

You drive your mom to the airport while your dad and brother are at work. You’re sad to see her walk away. You wait until she’s through the security check and you can no longer see her. The ride home is silent as you’re too upset to turn the stereo on. 

You pull up to the house and stay in the car for a while. It will be weird to go into an empty house. It isn’t that unusual. When your mom’s at work, you’re often by yourself. Usually, you bask in the solace but not it’s just grim. You don’t feel like reading so much as the thought ties a knot in your heart. 

How long had you spent bound by the pages of a book when you should’ve been with your mom? She won’t be gone that long but it feels like it. 

You go inside at last and decide to get dinner started. Your mother always enjoys her time in the kitchen. Often her singing made you frown into your book but now you long for it. Grow up! She’s not been gone for more than two hours and you’re pouting like a child. 

You peruse the pantry and the fridge and finally come up with a plan. It shouldn’t be that intensive. You’ll get the ingredients together but you won’t have to start right away. Fajitas are easy enough. 

You go back to your room and sit on your bed. You glance over at the book sitting by your pillow and sigh. You twiddle your fingers then stand and pace listlessly. You can’t focus on fiction right now, the real is too... real. 

So, you go outside and sit on the grass, admiring the flowers your mom loves almost as much as her food processor. One day you might be like her. With actual hobbies instead of escapism. 

You lay down in the warmth of the sun, the smell of pollen and the buzz of bees around you. You shade your face from the bright afternoon and recede into your mind. The summer heat lulls you down into daze and time fades into an afterthought. 

You swear you smell pepperoni as you nose wiggles in the breeze. You sigh. The thought of cooking in this weather only makes you sweat more. 

“Y’okay?” The deep grizzly timbre makes you fling your hand away from your face as you blink up at the great orcish shadow. You sit up, leaning on the heels of your hand as you gape up at the burly beast. Sy’s figure comes clear as your vision adjusts to the hue, “what’re you doin’ down there?” 

“Um,” you blink dumbly, “sorry, I... hi?” 

“You hurt or something?” He wonders, his eyes searching you with concern. 

“No, I just... like the flowers,” you say, “where’s Isaac?” You look towards the fence then back at him. 

“Said he was comin’,” he grits, “stoppin’ at some buddy’s place but I said I’d meet him here.” 

“Ah, you coming for dinner? My mom left today.” 

“I know,” he puts his hands on his hips. Somehow, he looks even bigger, especially looking up from the ground. “Good lady. I brought pizza. It’s on the porch. Figure you’d be missin’ her.” 

“Pizza? You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I wanted to,” he moves closer and you tense, shying away. 

He grunts as he bends, putting his hand on the grass and swings himself around to sit beside you. Now he just seems gargantuan. He crosses his thick legs and looks up through his dark sunglasses. His cheeks tauten as he peers up at the clouds. 

“When I was overseas,” he says, “used to watch the sky a lot. Reminded me of home. Only thing that was the same.” 

You peer up and back down. You don’t have sunglasses. You always lay in the shade or read indoors. 

“Overseas?” You echo, “you... you lived somewhere else?” 

“Served,” he sets his head straight, toying with a dandelion by his boot, swirling his finger around the yellow head, “you know, young and angry and all. Now I’m just old and cranky.” 

You consider him. You guess he looks like a solider. Maybe that’s why you keep seeing a beastly warrior. 

“It must’ve been... well, I wouldn’t know,” you say, “scary?” 

“Could be, but only after,” he says. You don’t think he’s ever talked so much. “When you’re in it, you just get through it.” 

“Oh.” 

He’s quiet and he picks the dandelion out of the ground. He twirls it between his fingers. He looks over at you but you can’t see his eyes through the black lenses. 

“Sweet girls shouldn’t deal with all that,” he reaches over and tucks the flower behind your ear.  

You’re frozen in place at the unexpected gestures. He grunts as he gets himself to his knees and stands. He rubs his lower back and stretches out his neck. 

“I’ll get those pizzas inside before the ants find ‘em,” he marches away without a glance back, leaving you perplexed at your interaction. You’re no good with people but that was odd. 

You linger and touch the stem of the flower poking out behind your ear. You don’t remove it. It was a nice gesture. You get up and cross the lawn. 

You go inside and hear him in the kitchen. As you enter, he’s washing his hands. You peer over at him sheepishly. 

“How long do you think Isaac would be? My dad’s getting drinks with his friends tonight. He always does on Friday.” 

“Ah, not long, I think. We can wait for him,” Sy shuts off the tap and dries his hands. “I finished the book.” 

“You... did?” 

“Gonna start the next one tomorrow,” he says, “day off. Might go down to the beach. Ain’t been in... years. Don’t like hot sand.” 

Again, you’re put off by his chatter. He’s never been overly talkative, not even with your brother who he spends hours with a day. He’s always friendly with a ‘ma’am’ or a ‘sir’ in your parents’ direction but you don’t know anything about him for a reason. You wonder if Isaac knows he was a soldier. 

“That sounds nice, I haven’t been in a while either,” you smile. 

He nods and moves towards the pizza boxes, “I can put these in the oven, keep em warm.” 

“Sure, if you don’t mind,” you accept. “Um, I’ll set the table.” 

He grunts in acquiescence. You go to the cupboard and take down plates. Not as many as usual. You’re once more reminded of your mother’s absence. 

You put them on the table and go back for cutlery. Realising you won’t need any, you grab paper towel instead and leave it with the plates. You open the fridge as Sy hovers by counter. He seems uncertain. 

“You don’t need to stick around. Unless you want something to drink. I was just seeing what we had to go with dinner.” 

“Ah, dang, I forgot to grab the special with soda,” he says. 

“All good, um, I... I have strawberry soda. Mom bought them for me,” you take out one of the bottles and show him, “they are super sweet thought. I mix mine with club soda.” 

He hums, “might try some. With dinner.” 

“Alright,” you close the door, confident there’ll be enough to drink. Isaac only likes Mountain Dew anyway. “Erm...” 

You face him and he wavers on his feet. For a man his size, he looks almost nervous. He takes his hat off and squeezes the beak. 

“Sorry, should be wearin’ this inside,” he chuckles. 

“I don’t mind.” 

Silence. Again. You reach up and mindlessly play with the flower. He watches your hand and you drop it. 

“What... what are you reading? Anything good?” He asks. 

“Um, nothing new,” you answer and fold your hands together, “that bookmark you made me is super nice. I like it a lot.” 

“Figure you could use it.” 

“Thanks, it was so... nice of you to think of me.” 

His cheeks round and his cheeks strain as a smile spreads under his beard and he runs his hand over the coarse hair, “ain’t nothing.” He looks around as he slides his hand back to scratch his neck, “how about I go keep an eye out for your brother. Hope he didn’t get lost.” 

[poledancingdinos]

Mission: Impossible - Talk to the Girl

Pairing: Captain Syverson X OFC (Grace)

Word Count: 2870

Warnings: Fluff, Flirting, Implied PTSD, Implied Smut

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

Sy tried his best to look like he was having fun but it was a little hard to do when the loud thrum of the music was grating on his nerves. The upbeat pop song sounded nothing like gunfire or explosions so why did it put his entire body on high alert?

He glanced around the room for the millionth time, taking note of every exit and where each guest was seated now that the meal was over and people had switched chairs to mingle with other tables. If this was what retirement brought, then maybe he would have been better off going back.

During his surveillance of the room, his eyes lingered on the pretty bartender who’d appeared in the corner when they had opened up the bar. She’d caught his attention immediately, looking pretty in her simple black dress and serving everyone with a smile that made his heart ache a little whenever it wasn’t directed at him—which was every time since he hadn’t had the guts to go get himself a drink even once that evening.

His last beer had been empty for over an hour now but none of the guys at the table had gotten up so he hadn’t been able to bother them for a refill.

Not realizing he’d been openly starring for longer than socially acceptable, Sy didn’t hear his name being called until it was followed by a hit to the shoulder.

“Just go talk to her, man.”

“Who?” Sy asked, feigning innocence.

TJ, the groom and one of Sy’s best friends, shot him a look that told him he’d been busted and wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Go talk to her. Maybe the promise of a good lay will wipe that frown off your ugly mug and you’ll stop scaring off my wedding guests.”

The problem was, Sy had this feeling like that girl wasn’t meant to be just a one night thing, and he had no idea how to go about finding out if that was true. It wasn’t like he’d never gone home with a stranger in a bar. He was just used to the girls being the ones to show interest first.

“Okay, clearly I’m gonna have to spell this out for ya.” TJ cleared his throat, putting on a serious air and leaning in closer to Sy. All the boys around the table had cut off their conversation, focusing on their exchange.

“Your mission: libation retrieval. You will need to make your way fifty feet south of your current position at which point you will make contact with the person of interest. Now, this is where it gets tricky. You will need to be very mindful of what you say or this op could blow up in your face. The code word is ‘hi’.”

Sy couldn’t help but smile and flip his middle finger at the other man.

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

“And you’re being a pussy. Guess that’s why we make the perfect pair.”

He was right, Sy did need to put on his big boy pants, go order his own damn drink and talk to the beautiful woman.

Standing, Sy nervously straightened his tie and readjusted his suit jacket. He felt the entire table’s eyes on him as he crossed the room, moving around the outside of the open space that served as a dance floor. Sy considered a variety of opening lines but when he finally reached the counter, the cute bartender spoke first.

“What can I getcha? Shots, a beer, something sweet?”

Sy rarely drank anything other than beer but he wanted to keep her talking and a one word answer wouldn’t accomplish that.

“What do ya qualify as something sweet?”

The woman finally flashed that gorgeous smile at him, pushing a little pamphlet across the counter. “I can make all the classics or I have a few signature cocktails.”

Glancing through the menu, Sy hummed as if in deep contemplation. “I think I’ll stick to a beer but I wouldn’t say no to some other kind of sugar.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at him, attempting to conceal the smirk pulling at her lips.

“Isn’t the rule at these things that best man is supposed to go home with the maid of honor?”

“The maid of honor is happily married to one of the other groomsmen. And she’s also my sister.”

“Ah. Let me guess, your younger sister and her friends always lurked around you and your friends growin’ up until one day y’all came home from college and suddenly they were the ones who had your friends’ attention?”

Shooting an amused look at his brother-in-law over his shoulder, Sy realized he had six pairs of eyes watching him like he was some show animal.

“Yeah,” he admitted, turning his focus back to where it belonged, “that’s pretty much what happened with my sister but the groom only joined the group after our first deployment. He stayed, I went back. It’s probably also the reason why I am the only member of the wedding party who isn’t married.”

Subtle Sy. She opened her mouth to respond but a high-pitched voice cut off any words before they were formed.

“Uncle Sy, Uncle Sy!”

Sy spun, catching his god-daughter as she jumped into his arms and making a show of almost falling over. “Woah, princess! You’re growin’ so big, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep catchin’ ya.”

The little girl giggled, tugging playfully on Sy’s beard like she always did.

“Mama said I can have a juice or a fizzy drink!”

Sy looked at his sister who nodded in confirmation. He wouldn’t have put it past the sneaky five-year-old to tell a little white lie to manipulate her uncle.

“Well, which didja pick, juice or fizzy drink?”

“I want something pretty like Mamaw.”

He knew the ones. His mother was a big fan of those internet bartending videos and ordered drinks purely based on aesthetics. The problem was that most of those drinks got their color from the various alcohols mixed in.

“You know,” the woman chimed in with a warm smile towards his niece, “I have a menu here with lots of pretty drinks.” She pulled a second pamphlet from behind the counter, holding it out and leaning in conspiratorially as she stage-whispered, “I keep it hidden because it’s not for grown-ups.”

Sy locked eyes with the little girl in his arms and she grinned like the cat that got the canary, nodding furiously. Accepting the menu, Sy held it up for his niece to see.

“What do ya think, princess? The red one is real pretty.”

The red one was a Shirley Temple and seemed to be the one which was the least likely to give his god-daughter a sugar rush before bedtime, but she shook her head, instead pointing at the one below it. “I want this one!”

“Ooh, that’s one of my favorites too!” the woman declared.

So much for no sugar rush. There was a one hundred percent certainty that his sister would give him shit for his choice but he was not about to be the reason her daughter had a tantrum at her best friend’s wedding.

“The lady has spoken. We’ll have a Unicorn Waterfall, please.”

She got to work, rimming a glass with something purple then adding some bubblegum pink syrup and ice. On top of that, she placed a large chunk of blue and pink cotton candy and on the side, she filled a separate carafe with lemon-lime soda.

“Alright, sweetie, all that’s left is to pour the soda over the cotton candy. Do you think your Uncle Sy would help you do it?”

He didn’t miss the fact that she paid enough attention to remember his name.

“Oh! Please, please, please, Uncle Sy!”

“Sure, that sounds easy enough.”

Both glasses were pushed closer to him and Sy picked up the little carafe. His niece placed her tiny hand over his, eyes wide as he tipped the carafe and the clear liquid melted the cotton candy. The resulting drink was pink on the bottom and slowly transitioned to a deep purple without a trace of candy in sight.

His niece squealed and clapped, squirming so much Sy was afraid he might drop her for a moment. 

“Okay, Hailey Mae, what do you say to Miss…” Sy paused, raising an eyebrow towards the woman of his dreams.

“Grace.”

“What do you say to Miss Grace?”

“Thank you, Miss Grace.”

“You’re very welcome, sweetie.”

With a grateful smile, Sy pushed the carafe back towards Grace and put his niece down on the floor. When he straightened, his beer was ready and waiting by his niece’s glass.

“I want to carry it, Uncle Sy.”

“Alright but two hands, okay?”

Hailey Mae tipped her chin, a look of stern concentration taking over her face as she carefully took the glass from Sy. It seemed Grace had thought ahead, making the drink in a plastic cup. The worst that could happen was a spill or a stain on the dress she would have outgrown by next month anyway. As much as Sy wanted to hang back and talk to the cute little lady who had just stolen his heart, he had to follow his niece to make sure no one accidentally bumped into her as she slowly waddled back to her mother.

To his great dismay, Sy was then immediately stolen away by his great aunt and wasn’t able to go back to the bar. Every time he broke away from one group of people, he was pulled into another mindless conversation.

Before he knew it, the evening was winding down, most of the guests had returned home and the wedding party retreated to their rooms at the hotel by the reception hall. Most of them lived less than an hour away, Sy being no exception, but the groom’s parents and siblings had come from out of town so the hotel stay had been a way of giving the newly joined families a little more time together before they all went home.

“She’s cleaning up, it’s now or never,” Sy’s brother-in-law said from behind him as he watched Grace wipe a metal shaker with a microfiber towel.

“To do what? Bring her up to my room?”

“I was going to say get her number but yours leads to sex tonight and mine means waiting until at least tomorrow.”

Sy just kept staring at her.

“You do remember how sex works right? You take that shrimp in your pants and you slip it in a woman’s—“

“I get it,” Sy growled. He did not want to hear whatever version of the birds and the bees he was about to spew.

“Good, now go get your bartender.”

Sy took a deep breath and made his way to the bar before he lost his nerve. He arrived just in time to see Grace heave a crate of liquor into her arms and immediately stumble backwards. Luckily, the fridge kept her upright and prevented her from causing a giant mess.

“Woah, ya need help with that?”

Grace gave him a relieved smile, managing to set the box on the counter.

“How is it that it feels heavier now than when I got here?”

“Maybe because you’ve been slingin’ drinks all night and you deserve a break,” he answered, picking up the box. “Where am I takin’ this?”

“My van is parked out back. We need to go through the service corridor.”

She picked up a case of syrups and moved towards a door in the corner of the room. Sy followed without question appreciating the view of her ass in that dress.

They crossed another large metal door and were greeted by the cool night air.

“This is me,” she said, setting her box down on the asphalt and digging her keys out of the bottom.

Once the van was opened, Sy set his case in the trunk then picked up the one she had carried and slid it in beside the first.

“You got anything else to bring out?”

“No, that’s all of it. The venue provided most of the equipment, this was all that was left of my stuff.”

This was it. Sy could either man up or never see this woman again.

“You know, it’s pretty late. Might not be such a good idea to drive anywhere tonight.”

“Is that so?” she asked, cocking her hip as Sy took a step forward.

“You could always come up to my suite. I could make ya a coffee or you could get a bit of rest before drivin’ back.”

“Your suite, huh? Are ya tryin’ to use your wealth to get laid?”

“No, I’m tryinʼ to use my friend’s wealth to get laid. But I’ll settle for usin’ my natural charm to get your number.”

An amused expression lit up her face at his honesty. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, smiling at the ground for a second before looking up at him from below her lashes.

“You’re right,” she said with an exaggerated fake yawn, “I’m really tired after workin’ all evenin’. It would be irresponsible of me to drive back tonight. I wouldn’t want to fall asleep behind the wheel and cause an accident.”

“No, ma’am it would not. And I’m all about bein’ responsible.”

The incessant ringing of the phone pulled Sy out of a deep sleep. It eventually stopped but the reprieve lasted for all of ten seconds. When it started for the third time, Sy muttered a curse under his breath and rolled over to the other side of the bed to pick up the receiver.

“What?” he barked.

“Damn.” It was his friend Mack’s lazy drawl coming from the other end of the line. “I was sure that you bein’ late to breakfast meant you’d gotten some last night but that tone tells me different.”

“Well fuck you too. I’ll be right there.”

He slammed the phone down and stretched out with a groan. Only then did he realize that he’d just rolled from one side of the king bed to the other completely unobstructed.

Sy sat up, taking stock of his surroundings. His suit was hung neatly in the closet when he was sure he’d thrown it haphazardly over the chair. Or near the chair. He was butt naked, which, had he been home, would not have been strange, but he didn’t make a habit of free-balling it on strange sheets.

On the up side, the evidence suggested he hadn’t hallucinated his night with the sexy bartender. On the down side, Grace had snuck out without so much as a goodbye.

There was no time to sulk, however, because he was expected downstairs with all of his nearest and dearest. When he stepped into the restaurant, he had approximately a five second warning before his favorite princess was in his arms.

“Uncle Sy, you’re late!”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” he carried her to the only two empty chairs, settling her on her booster seat. “I forgot to plug my phone before goin’ to sleep so I didn’t have any alarm to wake me up.”

“Forgot or passed out with it in your hand and a fresh load coolin’ on your chest?”

His sister kicked Mack under the table but his niece didn’t hear a word. She’d already picked up a purple crayon and set about drawing a unicorn on the paper place setting.

“It’s okay, Uncle Sy, I forgive you.”

“Well thank you, little lady, that’s mighty gracious of ya.”

For the next two hours, Sy did his best to put Grace out of his head and focus on the people around him. He still made a mental map of the room, the exits and the position of all the guests around the table but, without the loud music, he wasn’t nearly as on edge as he had been the night before. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t haul ass back to the relative peace of his room once the meal was over.

After being constantly on guard for sixteen straight hours the day before and only getting a few hours of sleep, he was ready to get back home to Aika and give his mind a rest in familiar surroundings.

Once he finished packing up his things, Sy moved to the nightstand to retrieve his cellphone. He hadn’t been lying about forgetting to plug it in the night before. When the device turned on again, there were a dozen missed calls and texts from his friends trying to reach him before breakfast.

Dismissing all the notifications, Sy slipped the phone in his pocket and reached down behind the nightstand. He’d been trying to retrieve his charger, only his hand brushed something else instead.

As it turned out, the something in question was one of those notepads that hotels left by the phone. And that notepad had the sweetest words Sy had ever read.

Had to get the van back for an early job. I hope that won’t keep you from calling. Grace xxx

And there below her name, were the ten most perfect digits in the world.

[himbodruid]

Tara’s Teasing

A simple oneshot about Tara finding some…evidence of Sylus on you

Not really NSFW but suggestive, probably better if minors DNI anyway!

Sylus x Reader

Mostly fluff?

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

The sounds of papers flapping accompanied the ticking of vigorous typing. It was a slower day for the Hunter’s Association- at least for field missions. The metaflux fluctuations had been all but absent, allowing for hunters to catch up on their paperwork.

You hated office days, needing to move constantly. But the pile of paperwork on your desk only continued to grow the more you tried to ignore it. Tara finally convinced you to start on it by promising to treat you to milk tea after work, and that was just the motivation you needed.

Tara had been hovering around your desk the last few hours. It was annoying and you tried your best to ignore it, assuming she was checking on the progress of your work. She was your best friend, but sometimes you wanted to swat her away like a gnat.

It was when you felt something plucking at the starched collar of your shirt that you swivelled around in your chair and caught her wrist with a slap. You stared at each other for a moment, and you squinted suspiciously at the waggle of her brows.

“I knew it,” she said.

“You know things?” You teased with a quirked brow. Normally she would turn into a tiny ragemonster at such a joke, but all she did was grin mischievously. It was freaking you out.

“You’ve been wearing high collars all week, you hate high collared shirts,” was her only response.

Your brows drew down, suspicious in the direction of her thoughts. “What’s your point?”

Tara leaned in conspiratorially and with the biggest cheshire cat grin you’d ever seen on her face. It was enough to make you squirm, and you knew you were blushing like mad.

“So who was it?” She leaned in more, her voice dropping lower so others couldn’t over hear. “Was it Doctor Zayne?”

“What?! No!” Your voice was far too loud but you couldn’t help it. You cleared your throat and more calmly said “he’s just a friend, I wouldn’t do anything like that with him.”

“Do anything like what with who?” Simone rolled her chair over. Having heard your obscenely loud declaration, she decided to investigate only to find Tara pressing you for information.

And then the infuriating girl tugged down your collar to show the mark that you were trying to hide. Simone’s eyes widened and you saw a mischievous glint enter them too. All you could do was groan.

“Soooo?” Tara nudged your shoulder. She wasn’t going to relent, but you couldn’t exactly tell her you were sleeping with the leader of Onychinus.

“I bet it was that one guy from karaoke, what was his name? Skye?” Simone waggled her brows at you and the deepening blush only confirmed her theory.

“Ooooh he was a hottie!” Tara’s squeals of delight echoed in the room. You were glad, then, that everyone else seems to have gone to lunch.

“So how was it? That beautiful of a man has to be good, right? Even if he sucks at karaoke.” Simone was enjoying this torment as much as Tara, and you hated every second of it.

“And who initiated? It was him, wasn’t it?”

The pair of them pressed for answers and wouldn’t relent until you finally gave in.

“Okay, fine, yes it was Sy- er- Skye! And it was fantastic, and yes, he initiated.” You buried your face in your hands in embarassment.

“I knew it,” Simone chuckled. “I swear that man is in love.”

“Wait, what?” The words gave you pause, and you looked at Simone with your face scrunched up in utter confusion. “Lust, maybe, but love?”

“Oh, please,” Tara said, knocking the back of her hand against your shoulder. “That man couldn’t keep his eyes off you if his life depended on it. And only a man in love would willingly embarrass himself to make his girl smile like he did at karaoke.”

“Exactly. He had eyes only for you, and he kept looking at you like he was in a dreamy trance.”

You thought about your interactions with Sylus. He was really attentive to you, but you’d assumed it was because he wanted something from you. And the night of passion you’d shared with him was just a one time thing to blow off steam…wasn’t it? You’d only known him for a couple of months, and sure he was attractive in every way you could imagine but…

“No, that’s not possible,” you declared in a fit of denial.

“Pfft, fine. Next time you see him, I dare you to ask him.” With that, Tara and Simone left to return to their own desks. The rest of the team had started filing back in from their lunches, and you were left in mental disarray.

For days after, you thought about what your friends said. Sylus had been busy and hadn’t contacted you during that time, and you were grateful for the space to think. Even if Mephisto tried and failed to stay discreet while he watched over you.

Even when you were sitting at the bar in Sylus’s kitchen, watching him move about as he prepared you a small dinner, you were thinking about all the things he’d done for you. All the small gestures that could be considered love. Your eyes drifted over the broad expanse of his back and trailed down to his narrow hips, lingering on his- embarrassed, you looked away. There was definitely no doubt you were attracted to him but…love?

Your heart thudded almost painfully when he turned to you with a soft smile. He placed a plate in front of you and you observed the contents. Fillet mignon, veggies, and potatoes.

“Enjoy,” he chuckled, noting your worried expression. He’d made this dish before, and it had been…well, not awful, but not entirely edible either. You cautiously dug into it and were delighted to find that it was perfect.

“You’ve definitely improved,” you comment when finished. He laughed with that rich voice of his, and it sent a shiver through you.

“I had my chef teach me a few things,” was all he responded before collecting your plate and depositing it into the sink. He came around the counter and took your hand to help you out of your seat.

With little coaxing, he took you to the roof of the base, where he had a nest of blankets and pillows waiting to watch the full moon rising over the buildings of the N109 Zone.

Snuggled against him under a blanket, with his arm wrapped around you. You soaked in his warmth and smiled. You had never felt more content than in this moment. It was then that you realized your feelings for him.

“Sylus?” You nervously took his hand, running the pad of your thumb over knuckles roughened by throwing fists.

“Yes, kitten?” His voice purred in your ear and you had to make an effort not to shudder. You looked up at him, his crimson gaze on you so painfully tender.

“I think I’m in love with you,” you blurted out. He quirked a brow at your awkward confession before chuckling and pulling you in for a kiss against your forehead.

“That’s a good thing, then, because I’ve so hopelessly fallen for you.”

Your heart stuttered with his admission. As the full moon crested the highest building, you leaned into him and kissed him fully. The remainder of the beautiful night was spent in his bed, where he proceeded to show you all of the ways in which he loved you.

[swiss-mrs]

You were asking for ideas about a future Sy fiction & an idea just popped into my head about “Shy Sy” & the “Karaoke Cowgirl”. Now, there’s NO WAY I could ever compare to your writing skills…but say Shy Sy calls & asks her for a date, she agrees, but everything goes horribly wrong……he spills beer all over her, clumsily trips over his own 2 feet, his truck gets a flat ( there is no spare tire), so they sit alone in the truck having the most fun conversation & maybe with a little cuddling to keep her warm?!?! (She only has a skimpy sundress on). As they casually talk, Sy becomes much more relaxed & finds her just adorably perfect?!?!

sorry this took so long. I have been going through some crazy writer's block. I think I got everything minus the beer😅 thank you for your support! hope you like this!💕

Your Shotgun Rider

Read Black Velvet (Pt. 1)

Word Count:

Warnings: Series of Unfortunate Events (First Date Edition), Adult Language, Some Suggestive Themes (No Smut), Petnames (darling and pumpkin), Reader is Able to Fit in One of Sy's Jackets.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing (The vibes: one two three four), No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Height, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "Girl"/"Pretty Girl" and "Little Lady"

Synopsis: After your meet-cute at the bar over the weekend, Sy gets you to go out on a proper date with him. Unfortunately, everything seems to be going wrong.

--💕👢💕--

It's time. Sy looked at the watch on his wrist and breathed out a heavy sigh. "God damnit!" He hits the steering wheel in a weak attempt to release some built-up tension. This was the 5th time he'd tried turning the ignition over to no avail. He was running good on time, thirty minutes early, to be exact, before he came out to his truck to try and head over to pick you up. Only to be cockblocked by his own damn pickup.

The last time he recalled, the thing was running smoothly. What in the hell changed?! He leans back in the driver's seat and drags his hands down his face in frustration, letting out a deep groan. His hands drop to his lap with a smack. With his eyes closed, he begins praying. "Please, to the powers that be, please let this God forsaken truck start so I can go see this girl." Without much hope, he opens his eyes and leans forward again to twist the keys again. Surprisingly, the engine roared to life.

Sy lets out a deep sigh of relief, closing his eyes and allowing his body to collapse slightly, forehead resting on the wheel. He lets out a chuckle in disbelief. "Thank you." He leans back up and shifts the truck into drive to head over to the address you'd given him when setting up your date over the phone.

Thankfully, you didn't live far. Your new apartment building was less than 15 minutes away from his house. He lived more on the outskirts of town as opposed to your apartment closer to the town center. He reckoned that if he pushed the speed limit, he could make it in there in 10. This was his town, after all. He knew the streets to avoid to be able to safely cut time.

Sy hated running late, much more now than ever. He didn't want to miss this opportunity. This was his first official outing with you. He had to make a good impression.

As he drove, all he could think about was you. Your laugh, your voice. Since you'd met two weeks ago, you two had built a strange little bond. You've gotten to the point where you can talk to each other like old friends, though all of it has been only over the phone.

You were extremely busy with basically zero down time. The combination of adjusting to your new job, apartment hunting, and now moving, you couldn't find time to do anything but work, sleep, eat, pack, and move. In between, you'd have your phone glued to your ear with Sy on the other end of the line.

Every time you talked, Sy could practically hear the stress and tension in your shoulders from carrying the weight of everything happening. He'd offered to help you move, but you turned him down, insisting you had more than enough help. Plus, you were moving things slowly, and didn't want to have him just drop everything he was doing at your beck and call just to move boxes. He never said it aloud, but he would be more than willing to be on standby for you.

Due to everything going on, Sy had made it his mission to make the little time you had together over the phone pleasant. Thankfully, you got his humor, so making you laugh was never a hard task. It hasn't been a day since he last spoke to you, but he already missed your laugh. Every time it came through the line, the image of your smiling face at the bar would pop up. Every time, without fail. It would always bring a smile to his own face.

The realization of him finally getting to see you in person again hit him hard when he finally reaches the street you live on. It's been two weeks. TWO WEEKS. He hoped you didn't forget what he looked like. Your image is engraved in his brain, one of his sweetest memories. That's when he spots you standing at the base of the stairs, just outside your apartment building. Somehow, his heartbeat both doubled in rate and stopped completely at the sight of you.

You're wearing a white dress that stopped mid-thigh. The skirt of your dress was light and flowy while the upper half was fitted to your frame, hugging you in all the right places. On your feet was a pair for dark brown cowboy boots. You looked utterly adorable and equally sexy. Sy found his eyes trailing along the skin of your exposed legs.

Sy pulled up to the curb, throwing the truck in park, and hoping out the driver's side to walk over to the passenger door, near the sidewalk.

As soon as he hopped out, your face lit up like the morning sun, eyes widening and face breaking out in a big smile. You wave at him and immediately start to speed walk over to him. Your sheer excitement made his heart warm. At least you were happy to see him, and in fact, did not forget what he looked like, as if you ever could. You fight the urge to run and jump into his strong arms.

"Sorry I'm late, darlin'." He blurts before you can get a word out. You're obviously taken aback by the apology. You scrunch your eyebrows and pout, tilting your head.

"Late?" You pull out your cellphone from your hidden pocket, clicking the screen on to check the time. "It's 6:03." You lock your phone and slide it back in your dress, looking back to him with a small smile. "There's no need to apologize for three minutes." You say positively. "You're here now, and I'm so happy you are." Your smile grows happily.

You have to clasp your hands together in font of your lap to physically contain yourself from jumping on the man in front of you. First off, you're overjoyed that you get to finally go on a date with him. Second off, he looks so damn good in his plaid button-down and jeans. You give him a quick once over. It looks like he'd given his beard a little neatening up. His shirt is ironed free of any wrinkles and tucked neatly into the waistband of his jeans. He has a brown leather belt that just so happens to match your boots perfectly. The circular buckle on the front has a horse on it, and his jeans hug his thighs just right, loosening back up as the fall passed his knees. On his feet are leather boots that are obviously a bit worn but sturdy. Must be his go-tos. Neither of you are dressed super fancy. Both cleaned up just appropriate enough for your date. You sigh out a happy sigh. "You ready to show me your moves?" You tease, raising a brow. Sy lets out a soft chuckle, showing off his teeth with his effortlessly charming smile.

"Now, little lady, I told you over the phone, 'I'm no dancer', but if it makes you happy, I'm more than ready." He gives you that smile that makes your knees go weak. He reaches for the door handle and opens the passenger door for you to get in. As you step closer, he holds a hand out for you to take, to use as leverage to get in the tall truck. You smile at him and give him a gracious nod and 'thank you' as you grab his hand to lift yourself into the seat.

Once you're safely in, Sy closes the door behind you and jogs over to his side, quickly hoping back into the driver's seat with one swift motion. He buckles up and looks over to you as he reaches for the gear shift, giving you another smile before shifting and driving off.

"Now, we have a little ways out til we get there. It's just outside of town. No more than 30 minutes." You look over at him as he drives, and he throws some short glances at you as he speaks. "So, uh..." He says, looking back and forth between you and the road. The happy, wide-eyed look you're giving him is making it awful hard to keep his mind straight. He clears his throat and decides to focus his eyes on the streets ahead of him, but the feeling of your eyes on him remains. "How's the move been so far? You likin' your new place?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your little smile grow a bit as you nod.

"Yeah, it's been going." You say with a soft chuckle and a shrug. "I at least have some furniture and kitchen stuff over, pots and pans or whatever, so I can now somewhat function out of my own place. It's looking a little less like a storage unit and more like a home, finally, minus the bedroom." You sigh and shift your gaze to the roads ahead as well. "I still have boxes to unpack and a bed frame I've been procrastinating having to put together, but it's nice." You smile, the pride of having a space to call your own swelling in your chest.

Sy glances over at you, eyes nervously shifting back and forth, contemplating his next words before just blurting them out. "I could help if you want." You turn to him to say something, but he continues before you get the chance. "I know you said you don't want me to 'be burdened with your move', which I would, by the way, be more than happy to help you with anything, so don't worry about burdenin' me." He quickly adds in, "I could at very least come by and put your bed together." He glances over at you again as if to let you know he's done with his little ramble.

You give him a little smile, so soft and warm it melts his heart down into his stomach. There's a short pause of you just staring at him with pure admiration before you nod. "Okay." You say with a smile. Sy raises his brows and glances over at you.

"'Okay'? Really?" He clears his throat, shifting in his seat a little in an attempt to cover up the surge of happiness that just ran through him. "Alright. I, uh, I keep some tools in the back." He points a thumb to the backseat. "After tonight, I could fix it up when I bring you back home, so you can have a proper bed to sleep on." He shoots you a smile, and you gently nod. He's so cute. You turn your head to look out the window. This burly man, 'if looks could kill' exterior mixed with his cinnamon roll personality played criminal tricks with your mind and your heart. It only left you pondering what he was like in action, when he was on-duty.

With his soft, sweet, and caring attitude towards you, it was hard to imagine him with a scowl, guns blazin', and dirty. It felt a bit forbidden, but a part of you was set alight by the pure fantasy of it. You could feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought. You purse your lips and try to quietly control your breathing, cheeks starting to burn a little. You nearly jump out of your skin when Sy speaks up again. "Is that alright, darlin'?" You turn away from the window to look back towards him, finding his gaze shifting between you and the road.

You take a quick breath in to try and compose yourself. You nod quickly. "Yeah, no, yeah, that's completely fine. Sorry." You shake your head and let out a small sigh with a smile. "Just got... caught up in my own mind." You try to play your fluster off. He throws you another brain melting grin.

"Well, hopefully, tonight can help you de-stress." He focuses his eyes back on the road, thank God. "New job, new apartment, new town." He shakes his head. "You sure got your work cut out for you." You let out a little laugh and a nod.

"You're telling me. Thank you for taking me out tonight, and thank you in advance for the bed." You give him a smile. He arches a brow and shoots you a glance out the corner of his eyes.

"Don't thank me yet. I might step on your feet, spill beer on ya or somethin'." He says, lighthearted but honest. You let out another laugh, filling Sy's heart.

"Okay, okay. We'll see how the night progresses, but I'm sure there's nothing you could do that would make me any less grateful. I'm truly happy to be here. I'm lucky to have met you." You say honestly. The way the truth rolls off of you was easy, but to Sy, it felt like you just gave him the world. He's about 98% sure you have no idea the effect your words affect him. His smile grows, showcasing his teeth proudly from behind his freshly trimmed mustache.

Before the conversation could deepen any further, a loud POP erupts through the truck, followed by an insane, anxiety inducing rattling and swerving of the truck.

You instinctively reach out to hold onto something, and Sy instinctively reaches a protective arm out to you, keeping the other one on the wheel to maintain as much control over the truck as possible. You had just made it on the country road highway not ten minutes ago, and from the sounds and feel of it, one of the tires popped.

Sy carefully pulls over to the shoulder, parking the vehicle halfway off the road. Thankfully, there just so happened to not be any other cars on the road, but, then again, not-so-thankfully, that meant no immediate help nearby.

As soon as Sy gets to the roadside, he takes his arm back to use it to switch gears into park. He looks in the driver's side mirror with a clenched jaw. You both already know it's the tire, but a big part of him just hopes that the mirror will give him a different answer. He holds in a string of curses, throwing open the door and hopping out. He turns to you once he's outside, "I'll be right back." He's visibly struggling to keep calm, and your heart is a nervous wreck from the loud noise and turbulence. You want to ask him to stay for a few moments until your heart slows back down, but you instead stay silent and nod.

He closes the door and walks towards the back of the truck to get a closer look at the tire that blew. Even though the doors are closed and the windows are rolled up, you could still hear the muffled swears Sy was letting out. Though, yes, the situation is terrible, and you feel bad. You couldn't help but giggle through your little heart attack.

You turn to look through the back window to find a very stressed looking Sy leaning his hands on the truck with his head down. You couldn't hold back a pity smile. Poor guy.

You could see him let out a heavy breath before standing up straight and waking back to the driver's side door. He opens it and pauses, fixing his jaw. He drops his head, letting out another deep breath before looking back up at you. "I'm sorry, darlin'." He starts. "The damn thing is completely busted, and I don't have a spare." He drops his hands from the truck to run the down his jeans. He reaches for his back pocket to grab his phone. You shake your head.

"Don't apologize. It's happens." Your optimistic tone and little pouty face softens the blow. He shakes his head with a chuckle.

"This has got to be the worst date. I'm sorry, pumpkin." He pulls out his phone, clicking the screen on and tapping at it. "One of my guys drives a tow truck for a livin'. There's no tellin' what he's up to right now. He's probably still workin', but imma try givin' him a call and see if he can lend a hand."

"Okay." You say with a relaxed smile. He sighs a soft grin, a gentle look in his eyes. His shoulders relax ever-so-slightly. He hates that you're stuck with him in this situation, but at the same time, he's glad he's stuck here with you.

"Just a minute, pretty girl." He winks, bringing the phone up to his ear and closing the door softly as he walks around to the front of the truck, leaning against the grill.

You watch him have the conversation through the windshield, waiting with your hands rested in your lap. The phone call doesn't last too long as barely five minutes pass by before he's hanging up the phone and rubbing a hand down his face. He doesn't make any attempts to move, so you take that as your opportunity to get out of the truck and walk towards him.

Sy lifts his head from the hand he has massaging his forehead to look over at you. "I'm so sorry, darlin'." He looks at you, guilt, embarrassment, and shame worrying his features. You shake your head and raise a hand to stop him, closing your eyes and looking away, a clear indication of not 'wanting to hear it'.

"No need. Like I said, you don't need to apologize for this." You lean next to him on the warm grill of the car and offer a soft grin. You lean over to bump your shoulder to his. "Any luck with your buddy?" He lets out another sigh, looking down at his phone.

"Well, like I suspected, he's still on the clock and currently helpin' someone else out, but he'll come and get us once he's free. Though, it may be a while." Sy slides the phone back into his back pocket before going back to rubbing his forehead.

"You know, you look really handsome." Sy looks up, removing his hand from his face and looking over to you. The smile on your face nearly makes him forget the unfortunate situation you're both stuck in. He can't help but adore the way your head is adorably tilted as you smile at him. It brings a little smile to his own face. He huffs out a brief chuckle and looks down at his boots, shifting his feet a little.

"Thank you, darlin', and you are just as beautiful as the day I first saw you." He gives you a pursed grin as if trying to contain his smile but failing. You blush and look away from him. You avert your gaze to the field just off to the side of the road, admiring the setting sun. The warm light makes you look as if you're glowing, and Sy can't seem to pry his eyes off of you. His eyes slowly find their way lowering, caressing your figure. "It's a damn shame you've wasted such a pretty little outfit on this."

Your head turns back to him with a scrunched nose smile and warm cheeks. Just then, the best idea pops into your head. "You know, it's not over yet." You pull out your phone, unlock it and open up your music app. "We still got time for a dance or two." You give him a teasing smile, glancing over your phone to him.

Sy shakes his head with furrowed brows. "You can't seriously be tryin' to get me to dance," He looks around, " out here."

"Oh, what?" You press play, setting your phone on the hood of the truck and stepping away from the vehicle. "Scared?" You reach for Sy's hand and weakly attempt to pull him to you. Sy lets you drag him off the truck with little resistance but doesn't let his face show how easily he's persuaded.

You close the distance between you two, Sy's hands finding themselves in yours. "Now, remember what I told you, darlin'.-"

"I know, I know." You hush him and pull him closer. "I don't care. Just dance with me." You squint at him, and he caves instantly, allowing you to bring his hands to your hips.

You tentatively leave your hands on his broad shoulders and begin swaying to the music, easing into a rhythm. You smile at him, gaining a timid grin back. Sy tries his best to follow your lead but is notably awkward and stiff. You can't help but giggle at this. "Hey, now, no laughin' at me." He says, trying his best to be stern but ultimately stiffling his own chuckle. You shake your head, trying to rid your body of its laughter.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry." You manage out through your badly contained giggles. Sy shakes his head at you with a smile.

Several songs and several close calls of him barely missing your toes pass before Sy finally loosens up enough for you to be a bit more experimental with your movements. You open the door to singing along to the songs you like the most. Sy surprises you with his own baritone singing voice, the shock on your face giving him the confidence to step back and spin you around.

When he pulls you back into his chest, admittedly a bit clumsily, you speak up, "Why didn't you tell me you had such a beautiful singing voice?" Due to the nature of the clumsy spin, you were tumbled into his chest, resting one hand over his heart and the other entangled with his. You could feel his heartbeat in your palm through his shirt. Its quick pace was endearing and sweet, causing yours to quicken as well. He gives you a bashful smile.

"I'm no singer, gorgeous." You scoff and roll your eyes.

"Oh, please. I quite literally just heard you. You're actively humming now!" You point out with a laugh. His chest rumbles with a chuckle. He shrugs and continues to hum along, leaving it at that. You give him a playful glare, which he ignores and only pulls you closer by your waist.

Not long after, the sun has disappeared to the point of turning the sky into a deep, royal blue, hinting at the dark night sky incoming. The headlights of the still running truck illuminate you two as you dance, creating your own personal spotlights.

Everything in this moment is sweet and wholesome. A day that started and continued to dampen Sy's mood ended up being one of the greatest he's had in forever, and every upside to this day is thanks to you. This was only your first date, but he knew from right then and there that he would one day make you his wife. He didn't want to scare you off, though, so he kept that thought to himself, twirling you around in the evening air.

Now that the sun was no longer providing its warm blanket, it started to chill. It could be smelt in the air before it began to fall. A spring shower was incoming.

Just as that fact became evident, little droplets started falling from the sky. At first, it was going ignored and partially unnoticed, but it couldn't be ignored for long as the droplets turned into a light sprinkle. "We should get back in the truck before things start getting worse." Sy announces, but you shake your head.

"No, no. Let's at least finish the song." You reply, giving him a bright smile. He melts and submits, letting you continue on with your singing and sways. He knows it's way too early to call it, but, God, he loves you.

Barely halfway through the song, rain starts coming down in clusters. The change happens within a blink of an eye and causes you and Sy to stop almost immediately. Sy pulls you in closer, flush against his strong body as if trying to protect you from the falling water. You let out a little squeak. "I think it's time to call it." He chuckles, ducking his head down to keep rain from hitting his eyes.

He starts leading you over to the passenger's side, keeping you as close as humanly possible the entire tread there. He throws the door open and damn near picks you up by your waist and throws you in. Just as your bum his the seat, you shout out, "My phone!"

Sy closes the door in response and runs back around the truck, grabbing your phone and jogging to the driver's side, hopping in and shutting the door behind him. He hands you your damp phone after doing a quick swipe on his jeans to get most of the water off of it.

You giggle as you take it from him, "Thank you." He chuckles with a head shake.

"You're a crazy little lady, aren't ya?" You tilt up your chin.

"Adventurous, Free Spirited, Yes." You proudly correct, matter-of-factly, earning another chuckle from Sy.

He looks over at you, convincing you your heart had stopped. His eyes hold nothing but pure adoration. You swear all your insides melted as soon as your gazes collided.

You both hold eye contact for what feels like an eternity. Time feels like a slow-motion movie scene, and despite the gloomy, blue hue from the rainy evening, the world suddenly has a rose tint.

You notice Sy's eyes drop from yours, down to your lips. You follow suit, but just as you were going to lean in, an angry shiver runs through you. Your eyes meet his again. A smile grows on his face. He scoots a bit closer to the middle of the bench seat to reach into the backseat, promptly grabbing a brownish Carrhart jacket and draping it over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent.

As soon as it's over you, you slip your arms into it and bring it tighter around you, using all your might to resist the urge to bring it up to your nose.

Sy gives you another award winning smile that brightens his eyes. He'd never liked his clothes on anyone else so much better than himself, but here you are.

You take this opportunity to scoot closer to him, meeting him in the middle of the bench. He raises an arm, inviting you into his side. You snuggle in close as he rests his arm around you.

Sy reaches forward to turn the heat on low to try and help you both dry off a bit faster without overheating. You being so cuddled up to him warms the pit of his belly. He smiles down at you before tilting his head to rest on top of yours. "This has got to be the best first date I've ever been on." You confess. He chuckles, the rattling in his chest causing your head to bounce slightly. He sighs, content and whole.

"Hopefully, the first of many."

--💕👢💕--

I hope you liked it!!😫💕

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Syverson

Summary: With Syverson finally out of the army, the two of you are looking at creating a stable life for yourselves.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, Mild/Implied smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Established relationship. Reader is plus sized female. No other descriptors used.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

"Thank you, again, for doing this, Boss," Jake shakes with excitement.

"It ain't a problem," Syverson assures, trying hard not to laugh at Jake's Tygra costume. His wife, Sunshine, had made up a family costume based on the 80's cartoon show. "Besides, it gives me an excuse to bring my own ladies into the office." He gestures to his office behind him where you and Lily were sitting. "And you're sure the twins ain't allergic to dogs?"

"We're sure," Jake promises. "My sister's dog has yet to produce a negative reaction from either of them."

"Glad to hear it," Syverson nods. "An' Lily's really good with kids but I'll still be keeping an eye, makin' sure she doesn't get too excitable. Don't wan' her licking the kid's makeup and gettin' sick."

"Oh, no worries on that. Sunshine and I are the only ones wearing makeup." Jake chuckles, "toddlers and face makeup don't mix."

Syverson lets out a hearty laugh, "good to know."

"I'll go get Sunshine and we'll get started."

Syverson shakes his head and smiles as he gets back to his office to join you and Lily.

"Thanks for helpin' out with this, Darlin'."

"I wouldn't miss it," you exclaim. "We don't get trick or treaters around the apartment so this will be the most I get. And they said they're okay with taking photos?"

"Yup," Sy confirms. "Especially if Lily takes a likin' to 'em."

Outside the closed office door you can both hear little exclamations and high pitched laughs that could only be from toddlers. You start giggling in anticipation while Lily tilts her head at the door. Sy pets her, accompanied by reassurances that everything's okay. She's so good with strangers but hasn't had much experience with little ones so this is a good opportunity to introduce her, get her acclimated to behaving around little ones. Not that you and Sy are looking at having little ones any time soon, but it is something you both want. And the sooner you get Lily acclimated the better.

There are a few soft knocks on the office door and Lily lets out a soft bark. Her bark sparks little laughs from the other side of the door and you get up while Syverson keeps petting Lily and speaking in his reassuring tone. You open it up and see the most adorable little twins dressed up as Kit and Kat from the Thundercats!

"Twick tweet!" they laugh up at you, holding out a couple buckets. Kat/Luke is looking shy while Kit/Leah is doing a little dance.

"Oh, you both look so adorable!" you exclaim with softened enthusiasm, not wanting to scare them. You feel Sy move to stand behind you while Lily steps to your side, curious about the mini humans.

"Puppy!" the little girl says, her dance getting more energetic.

"Yes, her name is Lily," you tell her. "Would you like to pet her?"

"YES PWEASE!"

"Gentle, Leah," Sunshine, wearing a Cheetara costume, quietly says.

"Gen'l," Leah repeats as she nods.

She moves towards Lily and you tell her, "hold out your hand like this." You hold your own palm open and she mimics the movement. "Now let her sniff your hand." You and Sy give Lily the go ahead to investigate and she slowly moves forward, sniffing the proffered tiny hand. She gives it a lick and Kit/Leah gives a delighted little squeal that, thankfully, doesn't seem to deter Lily.

"That's her telling you it's okay to pet her," you tell the little girl. She moves to gently pet Lily and ooo's and ahh's over how soft her coat is. For her part, Lily seems to be on board with letting the tiny one touch her. After a moment, the other toddler holds out his hand for Lily to sniff. She repeats the process with Kat/Luke and he starts petting her as well, a little more nervously than his sister, but no less gentle.

"Goo' wiwy," Kit/Leah smiles. "Goo' puppy."

Lily looks at you and Syverson as if to say, this has been nice but it's getting a bit much. You tell the twins, "I think Lily's had enough pets for now." They give you matching disappointed pouts and you wonder how Jake and Sunshine ever say 'no' to these two. Thankfully you have a distraction in your hands, "so how about some candy?" Their eyes light up and Kit/Leah resumes her dance.

While you give them a possibly unhealthy amount of candy, Syverson takes Lily to a dog bed in his office he'd had placed, complete with some of her favorite toys, before giving her some treats and calling her a good girl. He looks over to the door of his office and smiles at you and your enthusiasm. How happy you look entertaining the toddlers.

He starts thinking more and more about the two of you having your own baby and he bites his lower lip a bit. When the toddlers have to move on, you re-enter the office, closing the door behind you, but stop short when you see the look Syverson gives you.

"What are you thinking, Captain?" you ask in your most seductive voice.

"I think you know what I'm thinkin', Darlin'," he playfully growls.

You smile at him, "I think we should head home."

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlis

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@kingliam2019; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly

[honestsycrets]

exclusive | [miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader]

❛ pairing | fuck buddies: miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader (background pairing)

❛ type | one-shot, explicit

❛ summary | miguel learns his fuck buddy is fucking Hobie and feels some type of way about it.

❛ tags | heavy jealousy, somnophilia, fuck buddies, multiple partners, undisclosed sexual relationship, dubious consent: aggression/revenge, sloppy seconds, f!reader, lying by omission, spanish is not translated, an attempt at MLE, break ups, eating kitty, bit angsty, older hobie in this piece, break-ups.

❛ reqs fulfilled | Hey! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to know if you'd be down with writing something about Miguel x Reader who has been whining for his cock all day, crying and trying to run from it when he finally gives it to her? & where reader loves him but he doesn't, only for him to eventually fall in love but its too late because she's moved on, or vice versa

❛ sy's notes | here's for the anon that requested i release it. hope you like it, lil buddy.

Miguel wakes early in the morning.

Lyla usually woke him up with a Hey Miguel, Miguel, You have a meeting Miguel-- something teasing and aggravating all at once. That morning his room was so silent that he could nearly feel the heaving and dropping of a second heartbeat. His vision strains as his eyes take focus on the pitch-black room. He takes up the bulk of the bed with his large frame while the pillows are strewn over the floor. Your complaints of-- You never come to find me, you always ignore me. He quickly remembers what happened last night. Your legs were intertwined in his, scaling him like he was another bed in of himself.

"Lyla, what time is it?" he asks, massaging the crook in his neck. The world is quiet in his room. Out there, he knew there would be one problem after another. As soon as he peeled himself from the comfort of your warm embrace. Your legs intertwined in his, keeping him in the warmth of his bed, a spider's web of its own. He hates that he doesn't want to leave. Not yet, anyway. He knows he's in deep.

"About--" she pauses, "Nine o'clock?"

"¿Las nueve?" he shouts, pushing himself up on his thick forearms. "Damn it, Lyla!"

"I would've woken you up sooooner," she draws out in a long tease. "If you weren't too busy pounding your novía until three in the morning."

"She's not my girlfriend," not yet, he bit out, unpeeling your warm legs from his core. A brush more and he would have another type of problem to deal with that morning. As nice as it would have been to lay back down and wait until sleep released its tight grip on you, he had obligations.

"Yeah," she scoffs. "Okay, Miguel."

Lyla knew what he wanted. He wanted this. You-- to help make him forget the past and the future. To forget all the awful things that haunted him day to day. You could do that. He feels your sleepy eyes on him as he turns to sit up in his bed. Your heavy eyelids are cloaked with the ache for sleep. Or half-lidded in fervor for another round. He isn't sure which, yet.

"Te quiero, Miggy," he knows it isn't love you're talking about. Early in the morning, you need sex. He knows how insatiable you are even without your hands slinking around his muscular thigh, inching their way where they had no business going. He cups your hand and pushes away from his softness, knowing he has no time to spare getting worked up. Distracted. It's time to work.

"Manaña. Go back to sleep, I have things to do."

"Tomorrow? I'm not a tomorrow kinda girl, Miggy. " You're that kind of woman-- needy, achy, you need more from him. No matter how much he gave you with attentiveness and care, he could never give you enough. Your words are clear as you turn away, pouting. Miguel throws a look over his shoulder. "You're the only one who treats me like this."

There's the fit. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, shoving it out of his face as he gathers his bearings. You're slack against his back, lips curling into a pout at his suggestion that you'd simply have to wait for more attention.

"No empieces," he throws back. "I spent the night with you two nights in a row."

"To get off. Hobie's right about you. You'd never go to a show'a mine."

If there were ever an interloper in your relationship. It was, and would forever be, Hobie Brown. The displeasure on your face gently pulls at his heart. He's never been to one of your shows before. He's never even asked. It never seemed important to you until now.

He could do that.

"Where and when," his stomach roiled with something he'd distantly call anxiety. There was a truth to what Hobie said, he couldn't be a good boyfriend and take care of spider society all alone. He'd sure as hell try. If you thought Hobie was better, so be it. Miguel wrinkled his nose, concern lining his bushy eyebrows as he stood up, hands on his hips.

"Oh Miggy, that's just what I wanted. It's tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow, then."

Isn't that what he said earlier?

"Hobie!"

It doesn’t matter where it is, your eyes always seem to find Hobie. Ideally, Miguel would like your eyes to always find him. You spent the night in his arms yesterday and the night before that. Perhaps that was why you missed the spider punk. So when he walked into the meeting early that morning and dropped like a rock on the elevated platform you sat on, he wasn’t altogether surprised that you turned around to look at Hobie.

He was, however, surprised to see your hand slink along his plaid thigh, tugging on his lax suspenders. You're late, he heard you whisper. Yeah, what you going to do about it? Hobie reached out, letting his fingertips ghost lines up your arms. Miguel barks out your name, your fingers snapping back as if a spider bit them. They might.

“Oh my days, bruv, we gonna talk about this?” Hobie ripped off his mask, dropping it lazily by your hip. You swept it up and set it on your thighs. He suckled along the roof of his mouth, pulling his lip piercing in and out with a deliberate, slow hiss. “Or you busy watching my side ting?”

"Hobie," you willed him down. Your eyes catch and hold. "Shhh."

“Mans right pussywhipped,” Hobie balked out a laugh, bouncing at that awful word. His jaw tightened at the distinct sound of Hobie’s hands slapping your shoulder. Hobie is in a mood today. He wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t being picked on. “Look at him, is he serious? You mad, man?”

Hobie!

“I’m not.”

“I like the sound of that,” he could hear you whisper into Hobie’s ear, his senses more queued into small whispers than anyone else in the room. You rolled the word along your tongue. "Pussy whipped. You next?"

It was like he wasn’t even there. As if every moment you spent together was irrelevant. The days that the tips of your fingers grazed his shoulder blades, sweeping across his tight muscles. He remembered how it felt, your careful kisses on his neck after a long day, the drag of your nails across his muscular back as you took him so well on the desk he lectured at.

“You bugging? You know that's not happening. You ovulatin' today?”

Miguel prompts your name. You sit upright, his perfect good girl, a whole other person when you weren’t around Hobie. His brow creases and lines of worry and disappointment coalesce into a look that invites you to behave. You were listening now with a blow of a kiss at him as though that would deter him from finding out.

Miguel doesn’t like it when Hobie takes the piss out of him.

He especially doesn’t like that Hobie seems to know the intimate details about your body, like your cycle. That near the end of the month, every month, your sex drive ran wild. He thought it was a myth. None of the other women he had in his bed acted this way. You, however, were insatiable. If he didn’t know better… He flicked his fingers across amber screens, doing something he never did because he had no reason not to trust you. He skimmed your file.

Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life. Always at his damn concerts, clapping wildly at his old runway shows, drinking at the pub. You were an outlier dolled up in soft white, sparkling glitter makeup and darling strawberry blush next to a group of grungy anarchists and foul punks. On any given day, you might hold his head in your lap as your fingers coursed through his wicks. On special days, you buy new jewelry to change out the old. Every weekend, you like to sit on his lap in the pub of the week.

The others were negligible. He could excuse them. Hobie was something more. All it took was one offensive recording of sitting on Hobie’s lap in a seedy bar for his mind to turn red hot.

Despite being populated with many patrons, it didn’t stop you two from fucking in the bar after one of Hobie's loud shows. Others did the same exact shit. The ringing strumming, the shouting, fighting. It wasn't a scene he could see you at.

"Right there, papi, Hobie, there," your hips ground down, sultry moans puffing against his spiked choker while Hobie’s urged you up and down his cock, groping and slapping your ass around his dick. Your pink ballerina flats willing the movement by using the footrest to help guide your motion.

"Good, innit?" You didn't just like it, he realized, you loved it. Your huffy moans, the stares from strangers, the way Hobie commanded the scene. The bartender even threw Hobie a beer. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was Hobie's arrogance that no one was a threat or arrogance that no one would protest, but it pissed him off the same. He fucked you like it was nothing-- like fucking you in front of a host of sleazy men wasn’t a risk in and of itself.

He was too informal with you. He didn't treasure what he had. It was not the same, not like him. He heard your gentle footsteps in the lab. He shifted his weight between his feet, turning to see you hop up the platform. You fluttered your lashes angelically at him. Mi rey, you trilled. Your king. As though he hadn’t just watched you get railed by Hobie only days ago.

It was a fucking trap. A trap he was buying into, drinking you in. You looked pretty without your suit, clothed in a white, fluttery dress that barely kissed your thighs and nothing more. Like a fly to a spider web, he found himself gaping with his lips slightly apart. He brought his hand to his slight mouth, wiping away all inkling of his interest. You pout.

Miguel snapped back to his monitor. It was your scent lingering in the air, hypnotizing his dumb ass, your body eager and ready for him to pound full of his cum. Why else would you be in his lab? When you were strung out on his bed, properly bred, and leaking his cum, he was happy. He was happy with the tremors that wracked through your pathetic legs, that you were finally quiet for once in your damn--

“Oh? What's that?”

Miguel’s attention snapped to your figure, sliding along the edge of his desk, moving his hand without fear. You replaced it on your upper thigh, driving it between your legs. Horny again. His blown pupils followed the motion of your hand. He cursed his body for growing warm at the sight and smell of you. He hardening up as if his body had learned what to expect in the many days of experience fucking you. Most would have reconsidered what they were doing to him. Not you. You had no fear of men. You wanted him. Were you that insatiable?

“Hobie n' me?” you shimmied your shoulders with a knowing grin. The screen paused on a wet, sloppy kiss, Hobie's teeth nipping your lower lip. He was a biter. How had he missed his bites on your neck? Your soft, perfumed hand cradled Miguel's cheek, peppered in stubble. Your lips shifted up, tracing his sharp cheekbones. “Aw. I missed you too, Miggy. I always miss you. You're my big man.”

Yours. He might as well have been yours because you sure as damn weren't his. You led him on your little fingers with words like honey. A soothing honey that threatened to suffocate him in the weight of the words. If he listened long enough, he might fall in. Guilting him about his lack of time for you, Hobie Brown, the relationship you had, the kisses you exchanged, the sex-- the lies you omitted.

Miguel glides the clip away, bringing another to inspect. You remember it-- the day Hobie found out you fucked Miguel after a few hours of reconnaissance went south. You hadn't meant to piss him off. You only meant to take care of your needs. Needs that included sex. He was a means to an end, a brute that could fill what you needed. That much was becoming real clear, real fast.

"It go that bad? He got you in a fit," Hobie says. He can't help but notice you wringing out your suit, flinging it in your half-filled hamper by your bra, standing in nothing but a pair of soiled panties. Bruto, murmured under your breath-- a brute. He was. Hobie flickered his fingers off his guitar, a stray note irritating your hypersensitive ears. You cupped your ears in protest. "Oi, why are you airing me?"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just--" you bit the words, warm dread filling your chest with the next lie you told. You twirled your hands one over another. "I have a sore throat."

"A sore throat."

He wasn't buying that either.

"It's minor. Just a-- tú sabes, a little thing," you turned your hand over, whirling your bra drawer open with enough force to rip it out. Another growl rolled free from your lips, picking a powdery pink set and shoving it promptly back in. The drawer sat off-kilter. Hobie flipped his guitar over his shoulder and met you halfway, his hand warm on your mid back. It should have been comforting. Something in his eyes, even now, felt off. He recovered before you could answer.

"You fucked that man? Are you mad or what, wifey?"

You couldn't help feeling like you cheated on Hobie.

He stood upright, ripping himself away from your body, and brought his hand to his face to focus his thoughts. He had been fucking you for months-- and for months, he missed it. Miguel searched your eyes for a hint of shame or embarrassment. You had none, not even a lick. You were a kid in a panadería. Not only could you have Hobie, with his slender figure and exhibitionist qualities, but Miguel too-- with his big dick and need for love at the end of a long day’s work.

You played him.

His breath hitched as you turned around, shifting your hips back on his. It was enough. He had enough. His hand slammed over the rim, locking you in place against his muscular body. There was nowhere to run, even if you wanted to. You were happy to be there. Miguel wasn’t. His fingers trembled violently, forming a fist. You knew he wouldn't hit you. For all his rumble and roar, Miguel couldn't hurt you nearly as much as you could hurt him.

“You’re fucking Hobie,” he breathed into your ear.

“Mmm.”

A slight, noncommittal noise slipped out from your lips. It was not a denial, but not an agreement either. Irritation rippled across his skin with every damn swish of your round hips against his, shifting weight from one ball of your foot to the other. His body was alight with your soft body drawing trying to draw his pleasure to the surface. You were trying to distract him. Miguel wasn't about to let you.

"Answer me," he bucked his slender hips into yours, forcing you to catch yourself on the desk. You groaned. He had half the mind to fuck you right there, break in your pussy and leave you drooling over his desk. That would be easy. That was what you wanted.

"It's just sex."

“Are you dating him?”

“We don't do labels,” you said.

Miguel wracked your head back by your hair. A strangled moan slipped free from your lips, pleasure rushing to your cunt. You liked it. There were important details he had to know. Like-- if you used protection, or if you were safe when you weren't with him, or how you rid Hobie in raunchy pubs, and if you made out with Hobie until it was time to sleep. You know, important details.

“I do. I don’t share my women.”

“Yours? Fucking a woman ain’t keeping her, Miguel. You never asked me out on a date, put a ring on my finger, nada. It’s sex. Don't pretend like it's anything more."

"Is that all we are?"

"I've been fucking Hobie for months, Miguel. You want me to drop him-- for you? You don't even have time for me in the mornings."

His hand uncurled from your scalp, shoving you into the desk. He leaped off the platform, trudging somewhere, anywhere away from your body. He feared what he might do next if he kept hearing Hobie's damn name on your lips.

He could have done it-- let you have Hobie if you wanted Hobie so badly.

But it bothered him. Of all the women he could have had, he picked you. You were the only one he let grab him, shove him into hallways, suck him off under his desk, and be thankful for the strands of cum painting your nose and cheeks. You were the only one who slept with him at night.

Did Hobie need you the same way? Did he want you the same way Miguel did-- when he was inside of you, clambering over your body like a hungry beast, making you lay there and take him as he laid his brutal thrusts into your pussy. The way he battered your cunt, filled it up with his seed. Watched you heave heavy breaths-- because you were his to fuck and fill. The prospect of filling you up with his cum while Hobie was doing the same thing… ticked him off.

You were his, a territory that Hobie had no business entering. You had none allowing him to. Hobie didn’t claim ownership of anybody or anything at any time. It went against all he stood for. Miguel was inexorable. He wasn’t so bothered about the details. So long as the result was to his satisfaction.

“She’s at home, Miguel,” Lyla squeaked.

“Alone?”

“If you mean with Hobie,” she popped over his shoulder, sitting as if on a cloud in her fluffy jacket. His eyes rolled. “Then yes, he's there.”

"Show me."

"Nah, nah, nah, he's gassing you. How that man not know about us?"

You sat on your kitchen table, plopped with a hunk of pizza between your fingertips from the pizzeria below your house. Hobie's boots were thrown beside your mini-skirt. His chew was lazy and long. You sighed through it. You nipped the last bits of crust and grease off your fingertips.

"No sé. We never been a secret," you wiped off the rest of the grease between your thighs, ignoring the thought of your very first time with Hobie. But it was persistent, tickling the back of your mind, raging havoc on your unsettled heart.

White was your favorite shade. It was light, airy, like the sky. The sensation of falling through tufts of clouds. But it also made the consistent British rainstorms all the more irksome. The way water dribbled down your wet suit, your nipples perked as you rushed into his flat begging for something else to wear, Hobie's laughter dying out into that deep, low hum. His band shirt was ruined with the sticky stains of his cum.

"You thinking about it again?" Hobie read the way your eyes glazed over in an instant. His feet thumped onto the floor, swiveling in his chair and parting your legs. He leaned forward, his hands on either side of your tiny miniskirt. Your eyes tracked his gloved fingers peeking underneath your skirt. Not to pull down your thin panties, but caress small, consoling circles. "Yeah. You are. We just fucked. You're insatiable, wifey. You wet already? Want me again?"

"Hobie," you breathed. "What if he don't come tomorrow?"

"Then he don't," Hobie outstretched his finger, rubbing your soft chin to look up. "You don't need that wasteman."

"I got you?" you slid your fingers down to his slender palm, gliding over the tops of his knuckles. Hobie's lip pulled into a one-sided smirk, nodding to the side.

"Yeah, you got me."

By the time Hobie left, all thoughts of Miguel were non-existent. Mostly, because Hobie fucked you into exhaustion. You were out cold, strewn among fluffy sheets that wreaked of his musk of cigarettes and the sandalwood oil Pavitr gifted him. Hobie’s scent was here, there, everywhere it shouldn’t be as Miguel slunk into your slightly parted window.

Most offensively, Hobie’s cum was dripping out of your cunt. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. If you wanted him so badly all day, you easily replaced him with Hobie’s dick. He climbed the foot of the bed, watching your face twitch, almost trying to wake up from your sex-fueled haze.

“Mmm,” the small, ineffectual noise caused him to drift his eyes across your silky legs to your lips. There was a gentle pleasure in watching you sleep. He had seen it many times when he crept in the shadows when you were most beautiful. When you were half asleep, your hands draped among fluffy pillows. To be the first sight in the morning, and if possible, the last thing you thought of at night.

If he weren’t so angry with you, you would have been a vision for his sore eyes. His fingertips swerved up and down your inner thigh, curling around until he found your vulva, still swollen and wet from sex with Hobie. Miguel urged his thumb over your swollen clit, zig-zagging along to separate your folds.

As he suspected-- you had fucked him. Miguel urged the cum out of your system with a squeeze of your folds, rolling his fingers along the outer lips. His dilated eyes flickered up, catching a soft sigh in your chest. His fingers breached your wetness, easing the cum free from your body with small sweeps of his fingers.

“Mmm?” you breathed. His fingers slipped away, dragging your hips to his waiting mouth. Caked in the allure of sleep, your moan went without a response. Miguel’s pink tongue separated your folds, small mincing suckles coursing from your entrance to weave around your folds, deliberately avoiding your waiting clitoris.

"Who's it?" The pressure caused your lids to spread apart, lifting your hand from the lush silk pillow under your head to the top of his head. His tongue languidly coursed back down, poking at your entrance. The coziness of your sleep faded away. You dropped a hand to the top of his head to run through his thick dark brown hair, his sharp eyes flicking up to meet yours. Miguel could definitely have been a dream, but he wasn't.

“Miggy… I missed you,” you complained, reaching for the soft pink strawberry he won you once upon a time at a carnival. You had to beg, and beg, and blow his cock under his desk to get him to go. You looked so damn cute. Innocent. You were neither. “You should have come earlier--”

“To see you fuck Hobie?” he blew warm air against your cunt. Your hips shuttered against his face, thighs knocking his sharp cheekbones.

"You're still mad at me." This time, shame surely caught in your chest, a tremor of mean pleasure was minced with the pain of letting Miguel down. He knew it did. You wouldn't look him in the eye again but gripped the comforting strawberry a little harder.

“Considering you fucked him after we spoke, it’ll stay that way.” Miguel rose his hand to caress the outside folds as he worked, slurping the inner ones between his lips. You winced when his wet finger slid inside your hole. It squished obscenely, hungry and wet for his touch after such a tiresome day of longing.

“It’s-- it’s still sensitive.”

“I don’t care. You lied to me.” A brief glance at any watch would reveal that you’d barely slept at all. Miguel wouldn’t let you have rest, not if he could hold you accountable for your games with his heart and dick. His lush lips closed over your clit, flickering and sucking sloppily, drawing shocks of pleasure down your spine. You dug the heel of your palm into the sheets, struggling to slide out from under him. It was too much to wake up to after a fuck with Hobie who, from his files, apparently just loved to edge you.

"No, you don't. Come here." Miguel lurched his arm around your waist, dragging you back onto his face. Ah! Your hand shot to his forearm, battling out with his upper body strength to push him off. You couldn’t. Miguel was too strong. He was going to make you cum.

Pressure welled up in your stomach, forming a blinding burst of pleasure that threatened to let go. You knew it was coming. You knew there was nothing you could do about it but let him force another orgasm out of your cunt, twirling his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. In place of a sweet, soothing orgasm, hard pleasure ripped down your spine. It nearly hurt, forced out by his flicking tongue. Your legs tremored around his head, cupping him in place until you couldn’t give him any more of your sweet love.

“Miguel, Miguel please--” Warm tears pricked your cheeks, sliding down to your jaw. He kept his eye on you. Your skin was warm, mind dizzy, wracked with his complaints. “I didn't mean to lie to you. I promise. You-- you never asked.”

“Shut up,” Miguel forced your hips off his face with a sharp shove. Your hips bounced on the bed, a broken cry slipping from your lips at his abuse. He came for one thing, one thing only, and fuck more foreplay. Somedays he had the temperament for it. Today, with your daring admission that you had been fucking Hobie, he had none. "I don't want more pretty lies."

"They aren't lies," you bit out, scrambling underneath him, legs tightening shut. You just needed a moment to explain-- and if holding sex back would do it, you'd try. Miguel pulled himself free of his suit and pulled you back into place. Overstimulated tears pricked your eyes, "Miggy please-- Not yet--"

He looked down at you, eyes unfeeling, unreceptive to your pleas. His cock bobbed over the top of your vulva, thick and hard, dribbling with anticipation to replace Hobie’s cum with his. You bit hard on your lower lip, sucking your tongue over the loose cuts. “If you would have asked--”

“Since you’re so insatiable, you’re going to take this dick next,” Miguel gave a few lax jerks at the base, lining up his cock with your tense entrance. He felt you clench your walls, some piteous attempt to keep him out, to allow you to explain.

“I'm still sensitive, Miggy, please. Slow down, you're too big--”

“Think about this next time you fuck that punk.”

Despite your protests, Miguel pushed the head of his cock into your entrance. A moan wracked free from your lips. He knew it was your favorite part, the way he split you wide on his cock, pulling your walls apart. He bottomed out balls deep in your cunt, finally looking so full-- so full of Miguel after a long, arduous day of teasing him for just this. Your hand came to your stomach, buried so deep you swore you could feel him in your guts. Your lashes fluttered, recognizing that this Miguel-- this Miguel wasn’t the man you knew. Not the one who was cold out there, patient in your bedroom. Something snapped. You cracked him.

“¡Ay!” you exclaimed, then clamped your mouth shut. He wasn't going to accept any complaints. Miguel’s hands clasped over your lower ribs, the slide of tears down your soft cheeks biting your skin raw. “Miggy, Miggy.”

“After all that teasing today, you can’t take my dick?”

“You’re too-- you’re too thick.”

“Tragedy, you’ll have to take me anyway,” he mocked, sliding his forearm underneath your head to keep you stable. Your skin prickled, wanting to believe the closeness he forced was as much for you as him. Your hands came to his chest, bundling up his suit between your fingertips. You needed something to anchor to. Your legs bobbed around his hips as he drew his smooth thrusts into you. Long, punctuated sweeps of his cock filled the deepest parts of your body over and over, stretching your sweet cunt full of him. “What? Am I not enough?”

“No, you are! I just, I love him--” your legs pathetically clung to his hips, trying to force Miguel’s full, sweeping thrusts to slow. Between the two men, you would be sore the next morning. Love him-- the words earned an intensity of his thrusts that you could only try to slow down by squeezing your walls around him. All this time he thought it was him, his inability to bend to your every need when you wanted it done. Your whines drifted off, melding into sweet, gentle moans of approval with every deep swipe of his hips knocking into your cervix. Wet, sloppy kisses marked your neck-- and if you weren't mistaken, the soft tickle of his own tears. The sensation of his liquid need, the hiss of his breath, bounced against your neck. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to be.” His other hand jammed between your legs, flicking at your already pulsing clit once again. It hurt how badly you needed it. You pulsed over his dick, a flurry of frantic perdóname slipping free from your lips over and over, a disc stuck on repeat. Miguel’s moans ripped through the room, the desire for air a secondary thought. You never heard him so loud, so enraged, even earlier today.

You came, wet and sweet over his swollen dick, for the second time since he showed up. A fourth since Hobie was here. You couldn't breathe, pinned between his chest and the bed. Your thighs tremored piteously around him, searing with pleasurable heat. You accepted his last frantic thrusts, marked by a sharp grunt. His wet cum spilled into you, hips snapping to your core to ensure you took every last bit of his seed. You buried your head between pillows and his fist under your neck, tightening and loosening. Your head was thumping, sweat cloaking his suit. When Miguel was finally spent, he pulled free, gloops of cum slipping free along with him. He threw you a look, recording the memory of your ruined body in his mind.

“Miguel--” you reached out. Or tried to. He jerked to the edge of your fluffy bed, his hands wrangling sweat out of his long hair.

“Let's stop seeing each other."

Seconds passed before you could articulate the right words, watching his chest rise and fall with the tension. He fit himself back into his suit, throwing a glance over his muscular shoulders when you cried his name. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Only…

“I… I didn’t know you would care.”

He steeled himself to your words from the gentle touch of your fingers on his elbow, trying to reason with him to lay in bed. He wouldn’t. Not this time. You crawled over, trying again. Realistically, you held little hope that he'd let you touch him. Not if he was banishing you from his life. Optimistically, all he could do was throw you off again. You considered yourself lucky that he allowed your arms to slide about his waist and press your breasts against his rising and falling back.

“I did.” But he acted as though he didn't. The words felt small as if they didn't fit in your mouth. He cared. Miguel ran his hand down, then up his head again, exhaling a wilting breath. "Mira… let me go," he sighed, loathing the words on his tongue. He wasn't enough. He knew he wasn't. "I'm in the way."

"In the way? Miguel, you're never in my way."

You couldn't be this dull. Miguel loosened your hands around his waist, glancing toward Hobie's miscellaneous shoes at the foot of your bed. Your intermingled jewelry in ceramic little pots. Maybe he did see it. Maybe he wanted to ignore it, to convince you he was enough. Maybe he was the one that appeared every time you two were alone, not the other way around. And maybe he was the interloper.

"In Hobie's way. You can’t believe that he isn’t jealous.”

“Hobie doesn’t get jealous.”

“You're blind. Everyone gets jealous,” he scoffed. “Even him.”

“Even you?”

That shuts him up. You watched as he pushed himself off the bed, stretching out his neck and heading out your bedroom window. This time, you wouldn’t follow him to the lab, slink into his bed. This time, you knew he wouldn’t come back. It was better, this way, your lives playing out apart from one another. Some lives can't be pieced back together once their web breaks.