#captain sy x reader fluff
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switchbladedreamz · 8 months ago
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Bastard of a Leak
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Requested?: nah
Pairing: Captain "Luke" Syverson x Reader
Rating: Fluff
Warnings: i made up the name Luke, brief mention of reader having glasses, brief mention of reader being bisexual.
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"Well, well, well. What do we have here" the drawl of my husband's southern accent drifts through the air. I ignore him. "Honey don't tell me you been under there all day? When did you go to the hardware store!?". I'm under the kitchen sink surrounded by pieces of pvc, pvc glue, a wrench and clamps here and there, oh and drenched from neck to navel. The leak was driving me crazy and i know my way around a thing or two so I thought i would give my hand a try but apparently my hand is not plumbing compatible. "C'mon baby get out from under there and lemme get a look'achya" my husband asks. I sigh before crawling out from under the sink dusting my back and my ass off, and look up to the hulk of the man in front of me.
The look in his eyes could sink a ship or make his momma proud. Pride, hunger, and awe swirl in his eyes like minnows playing in the shallows of a creek bed. "You been workin on that bastard leak from hell all day, it's already 9:30. I'll call a guy tomorrow. Okay?" I resign with a simple nod, leaning directly forward i rest my forehead on his chest. Sy's arms fold around my grimy body bringing me into him. His warmth momentarily melts away the ache that had settled over me while the sun was still shining. "Okay." i finally settled on the matter. "There's my girl. Now go shower while I heat up your dinner okay?" I relinquish a barely audible "okay", i fight to untangle myself from the tree trunks that refuse to let me go. "Baaahaabyyyyy" i whine until Sy just chuckles and opens his arms. Limply I shuffle toward the bathroom, taking my boots off before the door and tossing the wet tank top off in the hamper with the rest of my clothes. I take a quick cold shower and wash my everything as fast as possible with sore arms and taut back muscles, i want to eat and lay down. Leaving the door open to the steamy bathroom, I walk down the hall to my bedroom. Toweling off and changing into another tank top and shorts. Exiting the bedroom i call out "baby" trying to find my husband. My answer sounds like its coming from the kitchen. "Oh where oh where can my baby beee? The Lord took her away from me" his singing is a treat. Luke turns around as i start the next verse, my plate in his hands. "She's gone to heaven so I've got be good so i can see my baby when I leave this world" I watch as he sets the plate at my place at the table, and the bowl in his left hand he sets at his place. He walks toward me and it is only then i notice he's shirtless. I must've gotten his shirt wet earlier. Big hands warm my hips his fingers slip under my shirt to hold my bare back. We sway as he sings,
"We went out on a date in my daddy's car. We hadn't driven very far. There in the road, straight ahead. A car was stalled, the engine was dead. I couldn't stop so i swerved to the right I'll never forget the sounds that night", my ear rests against his heart. I count the steady pace of his heart beats...1 ..2 ..3 ..4 ..1...2 ..his smooth voice rocks the airwaves around, we rock our bodies to Pearl Jam's rhythm. Luke's voice is like whiskey to me, its deep like amber with a spike of raw honey. I would drink myself to death on it if I could. If only he'd sing for me more often. A loud grumble and a stab of hunger erupted from my stomach which made Sy laugh. Moment over. "C'mon baby lets get some food in that belly".
I sit and eat my "grilled chicken pasta leftover surprise" as my honey so lovingly called it. Luke's head is down, and is currently grunting in between shoveling spoonfuls of.. something, into his mouth, I I left my glasses in the bathroom. He has his forearm wrapped in front of the bowl while his hand wrests on the bowl's side, as if he's holding it to the table..or hostage. I peer over to peek, its ice cream.
It makes me giggle. Such a big man is so protective of a little bowl of ice cream. "Huh?" He perks his head up. There's white drop and caramel all over his mustache and there's little pieces of chocolate in his beard too. I can't hold back my laughter. I get up and head to the kitchen. The hardwood floor of the dining room is cold tonight, the tile is chilled as I enter the kitchen. I lean down in front of the kitchen sink, opening the cabinet doors is when I remember I moved the wash cloths to the counter top. I sigh coming back up, god I'm sore. Snatching the top washcloth on the pile i run it under warm water for a few seconds. I grab a second wash cloth with my dry hand and open the sink cabinet once again. I toss the half unfolded cloth on the puddle of water below the pipes and shut the door with my foot. I could feel my husband watching me like a hawk the whole time, he wouldn't think I noticed his shoulders relax when he realized i was coming back to the table. "Whatcha doin baby?" I decided to ignore his question. I raise the cloth to his face, hesitating trying to convey my intentions. He watches my wrist, anticipation written in his eyes. His lips are drawn thin to a line on his face. "You coulda just said somethin". I just grin back at him as my answer.
I watch as the light casts eyelash shadows beneath his eyes, they flutter then close as the warm cloth comes in contact with his moustache in light downward swipes.
"i gotta tell ya it was pretty sexy seein you under there workin so hard. I guess finding your significant other doing manual labor sexy goes both ways. Like you" he chuckles. His eyes still closed as I clean his beard. His words make me giggle. "Good to know, I'll have to keep that in my back pocket. But I don't wanna get under that sink again." Luke pulls me down onto his lap to sit. He kisses my temple. "You worked damn hard today and I'm proud of you. I made some calls and got a few different quotes, i figured we would look at 'em together tomorrow and decide on who's the best option". It's my turn to kiss him. I lean forward and lightly kiss him, his lips are a little sticky from the ice cream. "You're so sweet, my bear." He takes my left hand and puts his on his cheeks, his thumb twiddling with the set of two rings on my left ring finger. It makes me smile, I give his forehead a small kiss and stand up. I turn around to head to my chair and Luke slaps my ass. He chuckles as the gasp I made as he picks his spoon up and returns back to his mistress, the bowl of Rocky Road.
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eccentricallygothic · 2 months ago
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Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them… 
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Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.
. . . 
After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.
You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part. 
So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least. 
But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.
Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown. 
It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.
And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.
“God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more. 
“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.
 “Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire. 
“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.
“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him. 
“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.
MASTERLIST
. . . 
I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—
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gummydummy19 · 11 months ago
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The bear and his honey
Summary: How grumpy Sy won your heart and you won his :))
Content Warnings: Fluff, sunshine x grumpy trope, smut (oral, fingering, piv, creampie, pet names, praise, hint of a size kink)
A/N: Look at that! I wrote another Sy fic! @omgkatinka sent me this: After that fic today I kept thinking about first dates with Sy. And how either epic or awful it would be if your first date was getting stuff from ikea and assembling the stuff together. I feel like that would either forge an unbreakable alliance or doom the connecton right away. But I really like the idea. and I LOVED IT so I included that in here as well :)) It's not their first date but I hope you still like it <3
Word Count: 4k+ (holy shit)
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Like a little girl seeing a big teddy bear at the fair, you were sold when you first met Sy. There was something immediately comforting about him. He was quiet and a little grumpy, but he always treated you with respect. A real Southern gentleman, as they say.
It took a long time before he asked you out. You kept running into him at get-togethers, always being drawn to him from the second you walked in.
In the beginning, you worried you were coming on too strong, always sticking to his side, asking him questions, flirting with him...
One night your entire friend group got together again for a cookout and drinks around the fire. Everyone was perfectly tipsy and content, and when the conversation started taking a more juvenile turn, you heard something that made your cheeks feel warm.
"Oh come on, everyone knows Sy's got it bad for you!", Cory boomed, swinging around his beer.
"Shut up, Cory", you hushed him, dismissing it quickly. You tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered at the idea of Sy being into you, but when you saw him blushing, (yes, blushing) on the other side of the fire you felt your heart swell.
After that night, you started getting more confident. You loved teasing him, always poking the bear. You tried to get a rise out of him every chance you got, knowing he had a soft spot for you.
Admittedly, you were having a fun time pushing his buttons, but after almost two weeks of flirty comments and hanging under his arm whenever you could, he still hadn't asked you out.
So after another night of teasing, flirting, a couple of debatably too-strong martinis, and what Cory called "canoodling" you finally hit your breaking point.
"Are you planning on asking me out? Like ever?", you blurted out.
Okay, those martinis were definitely too strong.
"Ya want me to?"
Is he joking?
He chuckled and you realised you said that last bit out loud.
That Friday he showed up on your doorstep at exactly 6pm, on the dot, and handed you a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.
You could tell he really made an effort. He was wearing a button-up shirt and what looked like a fresh, new pair of jeans.
"Oh Sy, these are beautiful!", you squealed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his fuzzy cheek, 'Let me go put them in water, and then we'll be on our way!'
He didn't say much, he just grumbled as you skipped about your apartment in your pretty little dress, like you didn't know exactly what you were doing to him.
He took you to the most expensive restaurant in town, where he briefly told you about his job and his family before casually shifting the conversation back to you.
You let your foot wander up his leg while you innocently told him about yourself, loving the way he startled when the waiter showed up.
Afterward, he walked you home and gave you a kiss on your cheek, just as innocent as the one you had given him before. You were a little disappointed when he didn't come in, but you decided to deem his chivalry as charming.
A week and a half later, he took you to the drive-in for your second date. They showed some old James Bond movie, the perfect combination of action and steamy romance as you cuddled closer to him in his truck.
During a particularly spicy scene, you let your hand wander up his thigh, but before you got to his crotch, he stopped you.
You looked up at him with a frown, but to your surprise, his eyes were still glued to the screen.
You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thinking maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he just wanted to be friends? Maybe that's why he didn't kiss you last time? Why he didn't wanna come upstairs with you...
The nasty thoughts kept pouring in and you felt yourself spiral down. You shuffled away from Sy's embrace, gently moving to sit as far away from him as possible, half debating just getting out of the car completely.
'What's wrong?' Sy asked as he looked at you, sitting against the door of his truck.
"If you don't want me you can just say that Sy," you said bitterly, staring out the window.
When you heard him chuckle, you angrily snapped your head back to see if you were actually hearing it correctly.
"Oh, you think that's funny?" you spat.
You tried to open the door. You wanted to leave. To get as far away from him as possible, but the door was locked, and before you could protest, he wrapped his big arm around your waist and swiftly pulled you back against him.
You had no time to wriggle yourself out of his grip, because he moved his bearded face down to your ear and whispered, "You can't always get what you want, sugar."
You didn't know what to say. His actions had already confused you and now his words confused you even more.
He grinned at your puzzled look, grabbing your chin in his large paw.
"What do you want?" he asked calmly, looking straight into your eyes.
"You."
"You have me," he stated, making butterflies erupt in your stomach
"Doesn't fucking feel like it." you dared, keeping your voice low and your eyes away from his.
"Bratty little thing, aint ya?," he grinned, secretly a little proud at your ballsiness, tho he'd never admit it.
His grasp on your jaw tightened, making your eyes snap back at his.
"If you want something, you gotta ask nicely, sugar." he drawled, leaning in a bit closer, "Now, what do you want from me."
Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your eyes darted from his gorgeous eyes down to his plush lips and back before you spoke, "A kiss, please."
A cheesy grin spread over his face and he loosened his grip on your jaw, moving his hand to cup the side of your face, gentle but firm.
He leaned in, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke, "Such a polite girl," before finally attaching his lips to yours.
That night you realized Sy wasn't as soft as you thought he was, in fact, he had quite the mean streak...
Another week of sweet texts and teasing phone calls later, you knew you were in deep.
Your third date wasn't even supposed to be a date. He took you for a walk in the park. You started holding his hand about halfway through the walk, with little intention of ever letting go.
It was meant to be a short stroll, just to get some air, but soon the sun started setting and your stomach started rumbling.
'Ya hungry? I know a good place nearby', he stated, pulling you closer against his side.
'Sy...I'm really not dressed for anything fancy...', you replied, knowing Sy's definition of 'a good place' when it came to you.
'Don't you worry sugar, you're dressed just fine', he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
20 minutes later you were standing at a food truck, being introduced as 'his girl' to one of his old army buddies wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron.
While you munched on your greasy food, Sy told you the truck had been there since last summer, after their last tour. He was there every week.
It wasn't hard to notice the way Sy shifted when he talked about his work. You didn't push or pry, you just listened, letting your thumb trace over his hand as he opened up to you. Funny, how this thing with a man you had only kissed once already felt like the most intimate relationship you'd ever been involved in.
Two weeks after your first kiss, you got Sy to join you for a trip to Ikea. You needed a new bookshelf and your car was too small to fit it, so you convinced Sy to bring his truck. Getting to stroll around with him through the hallways with your hands linked was simply a bonus.
When you first walked in, you could tell Sy was a little uncomfortable. This wasn't exactly his area, fluffy rugs, decorative pillows,...he felt so out of place. But seeing you with a big smile on your face, dragging him around to show him which wineglasses you liked, made it worth it.
You made him feel at ease, but nervous at the same time. The whole thing felt so domestic, so innocent. So, why was the only thought on his mind pushing you onto one of those beds and fucking you six ways from Sunday?
Aside from that kiss in the car and a couple steamy messages, not much had happened between the two of you. It's not like you didn't want to, you just wanted to take it slow and Sy was trying to be a tease gentleman.
By the time you got to the storage place, he was a lot more relaxed. Maybe it was the fact that there were no more soft blankets or colorful couches. This part of the building was definitely more his vibe. Though, being able to show off his strength when it was time to carry the boxes may also have something to do with it...
You were almost at checkout, Sy was pushing the cart, half his view was blocked and he was trying not to crash into anything when he heard you squeal loudly.
"OH MY GOD!"
"What? What happened?" He peaked past the mountain of cardboard. He was worried something might have happened, but when he saw what you were holding, he grinned in confusion.
"He looks just like you!" you exclaimed happily, holding a big, stuffed bear with dark brown fur. "I'm taking him home with me."
Sy tried to keep a stern look but failed miserably, chuckling while he pulled you into him.
"What, am I not enough for you anymore? Should I be worried?", he joked.
"Don't you worry, baby. You will always be my big bear. The little one is just for when you're not around", you explained.
"Well if I'm your bear, you're my honey", he mumbled, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. God, he always smelled so fucking good... "Oh! I can spray some of your cologne on him!"
You kept babbling happily as you dragged Sy to the checkout. He didn't even know how long he had been smiling, but somehow he just couldn't stop. Fuck, what are you doing to him?
45 minutes later it was your turn to try and suppress your laugh. You were sitting on your couch, sipping a glass of white wine, and watching your man try and prove just how manly he is.
"Sy, honey, I really think if you just looked at the instructions..."
"I don't need no damn instructions, it's a fucking bookshelf", he grumbled.
"Alright, suit yourself...", you sighed, turning the page of your magazine.
Barely a second later you got startled by a loud bang and a string of curses. You looked up to see the damage and were met with a fuming Sy clutching his thumb.
"Not a word", he said.
"M'not saying anything!", you chuckled.
Another ten minutes passed in silence, aside from the occasional grumble coming from the bulky man you were rapidly falling in love with.
You finally dropped down the magazine next to you and put down your wine.
"Would you just let me help?", you asked, standing in front of him.
"I don't need-"
"Yes, you fucking do! Stop being so damn stubborn, Sy! It's not a sin to look at the manual! It's what it's fucking there for!", you finally snapped.
Sy looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He straightened himself, towering over you.
"You don't scare me, big guy", you dared, crossing your arms.
He raised his brow, tilting back his head a tiny bit as he peered down at you.
"Alright", his voice was calm and collected. A beat of silence passed and the tension could be cut with a knife.
You were starting to get a little confused, not entirely sure what the vibe was anymore but then, without an ounce of effort, Sy picked you up and swung you over his beefy shoulder.
"Sy! What the hell are you doing? Logan??"
A squeal left your throat when you were dropped down on your mattress. You barely had any time to process what was happening before Sy was on top of you, pinning your arms above your head as his body covered yours.
"You and that damn mouth of yours", he groaned, "always running ain't it? See what happens when you poke a bear?"
"He finally wants to taste his honey?" you spoke softly.
"Oh, honey, you have no idea", he said before he captured your lips with his.
You tried to wriggle your hands free to touch him, but he wouldn't budge, chuckling into your mouth as he felt you struggle.
"What have I told you about asking for what you want, hmm?"
"Sy, please...", you started begging.
'Please what? Use your words"
"C'mon....just lemme touch you, Sy, s'not funny anymore...", you whined, desperately trying to get closer to him, but you were no match for his strength.
Admittedly, feeling how much bigger and stronger than you he was made you drip right through your panties, but that didn't mean you weren't still desperate to get your hands on him.
Sy finally took pity on you and released your wrists. Your hands immediately clawed at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer as you pulled him in for another breathtaking kiss. One of his big hands semi-gently held your cheek while the other pawed at your body, wherever he could.
It didn't take long before clothes went flying, both yours and his. The sound of his belt unbuckling ran in your ears as your blood pumped faster.
"Fuck, I want you so bad...", you mumbled under your breath, your eyes raking over his furry chest before landing on the tent in his boxers.
"I want you too, baby, so so bad". Blood rushed to your face at the realization that he had heard you. He still had a grin on his face, but this time it was different. Less mean, more dopey.
"Wanna taste you...", he mumbled as he pressed kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.
"Fuck, Sy..."
The first lick between your sticky folds already had him moaning into your pussy. "Sweetest honey I've ever fucking tasted...", he groaned before burying his face back in between your legs.
He ate you out with vigor, swiping his tongue around your clit just enough to drive you crazy before dipping it down to lick long stripes up and down your slit. With all the pent-up tension (and Sy's insane cunnilingus skills), it didn't take long at all before you felt that familiar heat pool down in your belly.
You arched your back off the bed, one hand digging into Sy's scalp as the other frantically grabbed at your pillow.
"Oh fuck, fuck...", you moaned as you felt yourself starting to creep closer to the edge. Sy focussed his full attention solely on your clit now, sucking and nibbling on it while he pressed two of his thick fingers inside you. He curled them up, finding your spot almost immediately and you screamed.
"AH shit! Please please please, don't stop...m'gonna cum!”, you babbled with an unsteady voice.
Usually you don't like to tell your partner when you're about to cum, because for some reason they always seemed to take that as a sign to start doing completely different shit, but you trusted Sy. He clearly knew what he was doing, and to your delight, he kept doing it exactly like that until your thighs were trembling on his shoulders.
You felt the waves of your orgasm roll through your body, your hips mimicking the movement as you bucked against his face. He didn't seem to mind one bit.
He kept his fingers inside you, perfectly stimulating the spongy spot they were nestled against while his lips nursed on your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm.
Your entire body felt like it was on fire as you waited for Sy to stop, so you could finally breathe again. But to your surprise, the big beast between your legs didn't even show signs of slowing down.
"S-Sy...fuck fuck stop...stop stop stop...", you tried to squirm away from the sensitive feeling, but he kept you firmly in his grip.
"fuck..shit..sensitive...too sensitive..Sy, FUCK!" you moaned when the pain suddenly turned into overwhelming pleasure. The only thing you could do was scream for him. With every knock of his fingers against your spot you felt a pressure build, and when his strong arm pressed down harder on your belly, you swore your vision went white.
You wailed as you came again in a manner that could only be described as violent. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you felt yourself gush all over Sy's mouth and fingers. Your brain was too fuzzy to be embarrassed about it. He helped you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he finally let up.
"Fucking hell...", he spoke up first. Your eyes blinked open and you sat up a bit to look at him. You were still finding the right words, trying to piece your brain back together, and then you saw it. The drops in Sy's beard, the wet spot on the mattress...oh my god...no no no no no.
It was as if Sy could read your mind, either that or the horrified look on your face was more obvious than you thought it was.
"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life", he stated.
"Really?"
"Absolutely", he promised.
You looked at the twinkle in his eyes and you knew he wasn't lying. God damn, where has this man been all your life. Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him forward by the neck and smashed your lips against his, not caring one bit about the wetness of his beard.
He groaned when you pushed him back on the bed. "My turn", you grinned as you straddled him. You gave him one last peck before peppering kisses on his neck and across his chest.
"Fuck, honey...", he mumbled, gently moving your hair out of your face and keeping a gentle hold of it.
You finally shimmied down his boxers. His cock sprung free. Hard, throbbing, and all yours. You grabbed him by the base and pressed a few teasing kisses along the length of him before licking up a stripe and finally taking the head in your mouth.
A low rumble could be heard deep in his chest as you took him deeper, determined to fit him entirely. To your disappointment, you started gagging when he was barely halfway. You wanted to try again, but Sy gently tugged on your hair. "Not necessary, sweetheart"
"But I wanna make you feel good", you pouted.
"You are, feels so good princess, doesn't have to be all the way to feel good", he reassured you.
You took him in your mouth again and gently bobbed your head up and down, glancing up at him to see his eyes droop. You would have kept going for hours if it meant getting to see him like this. Sadly, he pulled you off his dick way too soon for your liking.
"Wha-but you haven't cum yet!", you whined.
"That's 'cause I'm gonna cum in this pretty pussy.", he stated before flipping you over, leaving him on top of you once again.
"Been wanting to fuck you for so long, you know that? Always skipping around in those damn skirts, teasing me...", he kissed you before you could reply. His rough hands traced about your body, squeezing and kneading at your flesh wherever he could.
You let your knees fall open next to his thighs, opening up for him. When the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You okay, baby?" he asked when he noticed your sudden nervousness.
"Yeah..."
"That doesn't sound very convincing", Sy spoke, sitting up a little. "We don't have to go any further, you know that right? I'm perfectly content just arguing with you over a bookshelf", he grinned and you felt yourself relax.
You gave him a sweet smile and tugged him down for a kiss. The kiss was slow and meaningful, different than before. When he pulled back, Sy's eyes found yours, "What's going on, hmm?" he asked, his tone calm and caring.
"Just been a while...", you stated shyly.
"Been a while for me too, honey, a long while", he admitted.
"How long?", you asked curiously, making him chuckle. "Seven months.", he replied, "and I can wait another seven if you want me to." It was your turn to chuckle, "Luckily, I don't want you to", you kissed him again.
"Since Cory's pool party...", you mumbled against his lips.
"Hmm?"
"Cory's pool party, when I first met you. Don't know how long ago that was exactly, but that's how long it's been for me".
Sy stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't read his expression, but after a few beats, his eyes softened. He leaned in closely, his cock still stiff between your legs.
"Seven months", he whispered, "that's how long that's been."
His words and what they meant hung in the air for a couple seconds and you couldn't figure out what to say, so you settled for, "Fuck me, Sy. Please?"
He grinned and reached in between your trembling bodies to grab his cock, pushing it between your folds. "I'll go slow, sweetheart. Trust me. If I don't, this s'gonna be over real soon".
He slid inside with ease, the stretch was there but bearable. His head dropped to your shoulder when he was fully in, hot breath and scruffy beard tickling your neck. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to urge him deeper somehow.
After what seemed like a century (not that you were complaining), he dragged his hips back, sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in. He repeated his movement a couple times. Your whines turned into moans, getting louder as his thrusts got rougher.
"Fucking hell...best pussy I've ever had", he groaned, pumping into you at a faster pace. He hiked up one of your legs higher over his hip, making him hit inside you deeper while grinding on your still-sensitive clit.
You moaned loudly. Your nails scratched over his biceps and he groaned in your ear. Neither of you was gonna last long and you both knew it.
"Mine", he growled and you almost came on the spot.
"Yours, Sy! Only yours!", you kept babbling while he absolutely destroyed your body, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!"
"Cum for me, baby, fuck..."
Your final orgasm of the night consumed you. "Cumming! I'm cumming...fuck please cum inside me Sy, OH!", you moaned so loud you were sure the neighbors heard you, but you didn't care. Sy grabbed your hips roughly as he chased his own release, following suit before yours was even over.
He looked godly. His hairy chest was all sweaty, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut...you swore you got another tiny orgasm just looking at him and feeling his cock throb inside you.
"Shit...", he groaned breathlessly, "I swear I usually last longer...", he started but you stopped him right away. "Sy, you made me cum three times in the last 45 minutes. I don't think I would have survived any longer."
He chuckled as he fell on top of you, squishing you in the process. You hummed happily, stroking his back while his cock was still buried deep inside you. You could barely breathe but you didn't care, if this was how you met your end, it seemed like a good way to go.
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A/N: thank you for reading!!! Wanna read more of my Sy fics? Check out my ongoing series 'A year in apartment 6B" !!!
Taglist;
@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1 @luxeydior @peyton-warren
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ramp-it-up · 8 months ago
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II Most Wanted-
Jake Syverson x Reader AU (Sy x Buttercup)
You fell in love with Captain Syverson 20 years ago. 17 year old Football and Baseball Captain Jake Syverson, that is.
You two didn’t make any sense: you were the new girl in town, and Sy was the Homecoming king, but you were his shotgun rider in his iconic Ford Bronco for a few majestic months in 2004.
An unplanned pregnancy, deception, and duty tear you two apart. Forever.
So you thought.
Life took you across continents, marriages, and careers as you both grew up, and you thought your heart was safe. But the feeling you got when you saw Captain Syverson, US Army, Retired, at your 20 year reunion was quite the unexpected twist in your orderly life.
This reunion causes your lives to collide in both the best and the worst ways. Will you run, or ride or die?
Old feelings and new promises.
Angst, fluff, and smut.
This one’s got it all.
Ao3 Link
Part I: ...And I don't know what you're doin' tonight… 🔥
Part II: Pedal so heavy...
Part III: Drivin’ you crazy…
Part IV: …Anytime you’d like 🔥🔥
Part V: Wherever You Take Me 🔥🔥🔥
Part VI: Came out of Nowhere 🔥🔥🔥
Part VII: One Day We Won’t Be 🔥🔥🔥
Part VIII: Time For Something New 🔥🔥🔥
Part IX: Shotgun Rider 🔥🔥🔥
Wedding Dress Poll
Part X: 'Til The Day I Die (1) 🔥🔥🔥
Part XI: ‘Til The Day I Die (2): Bless the Broken Road
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f10werfae · 1 year ago
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Pretty Girl
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pairing: Dad!sy x Pregnant!Mom!Reader
summary: Baby Ellie has her daddy wrapped round her little finger, but so does her momma. After-all they’re his pretty girl (smut)
Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+
Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Hey pretty, c’mere and give me a kiss” Sy cooed nuzzling into his wife’s side on their bench swing in the backyard, his hands rubbing over her exposed bump which was housing their second baby. “mhm okay” She gave in ultimately giving him a soft wet kiss, having to push him away for a breath. “D-da d-da” Both their heads turning to face their 1 year old babygirl, who was settled on her play mat out in the shade.
Aika rested her head on her paws whilst on the play mat, letting baby Ellie rest her body against hers, ultimately using Aika as her backrest. The Syverson family was spending this nice summers day out on the porch, with Ellie clad in only a diaper just to keep her cool. “Yes my gorgeous girl, ya enjoyin’ bein’ out here with your momma and dada?” Sy cooed slipping off the bench and onto the mat a few feet away, Ellie was holding up her own bottle as she drank away, her other hand reaching up for Sy’s hand.
Ever since Ellie had seen the effect of the word ‘da’ on her daddy, she’s been using it ever since as a sign of a beck and call. “Da, da da” The soft curled bundle of joy tottered away from Aika’s body and wobbled her way onto her daddy’s lap. “Aren’t ya jus’ precious sweetpea, you n your mama n’ baby brother” Sy growled peppering kisses all over Ellie’s face until she started giggling and had to push his face away.
“Sy stop it and give her a chance” Y/n giggled watching, knowing damn well her babygirl loved giving out kisses too, Ellie’s lips already pouting out to land kisses on her daddy’s beard covered cheek. “mwah da” Ellie babbled happily, her curls bouncing with her, her hands on his shoulders to stabilise her standing up. “Wow babygirl, best kiss av ever gotten” Sy gasped hugging her tiny body to his immediately, carrying her onto his lap again.
“Da-da baba?” Ellie pulled away looking up with her innocent doe eyes, picking up her empty bottle up to her daddy, another small pout playing on her lips. “N' here I thought you wanted to cuddle with dada” Sy playfully scoffed settling Ellie down by Y/n, their babygirl wasting no time in cuddling on her mama’s lap, her head resting on her chest, her tiny hands feeling the baby’s kicks; her eyes twinkling watching Sy walk inside with her precious baba.
“got daddy wrapped round your lil finger baby” Y/n smiled nuzzling her head against her baby’s, pressing a big kiss on her cheek as she rocked her gently. “One baba per request” Sy said rocking back into the backyard, shaking the small lukewarm pink bottle in his hand, testing the temperature on his wrist before he handed it back to his little precious petal. “mm baba dada” She said handing it back to him.
Sy smiled picking up the tiny tot and sitting down beside his wife with Ellie laying across his lap as if she was a newborn again. His hands steadily holding the baby bottle to her lips as she suckled softly, her naturally wide eyes peering around the garden at all the different birds before settling on the baby blues of her dad. One of her hands reaching behind her for her momma and the other holding onto Sy’s hand that was holding the bottle.
“Think she’ll go down for a nap soon?” He smirked looking up to his wife, that same playful lustful loon in his eyes whenever his eye caught hers, his head leaning down to kiss and nuzzle against the side of her face like a possessive bear cub. “Oh yeah she’s your daughter Sy honey, fill her belly and she’ll be knocked out soon enough” Y/n swooned, leaning her body towards him as her hand patted down his soft stomach and body.
“See look her pretty lil eyes are already closing, must be the cool breeze helpin cool her down too” Checking her nappy was still clean, after about 15 minutes Y/n had burped and lulled her babygirl to sleep, ultimately leading her to put her down in her crib. Turning on the baby monitor and adjusting the room temperature, Y/n left the room slightly ajar as Sy and her retreated to hanging out in their shared bedroom.
“I ever tell ya how pretty you are? Especially when you’re full n’ round cus a’ me” Sy poses on the bed like a girl, his feet swinging in the air as he lay on his stomach, his hands cupping his face whilst he just stared at his wife. “Yes loverboy, you tell me at least every hour”
“That can’t be right, i’ll make sure to say it every minute then” He joked rolling onto his back, guiding her to sit on his lap, his hands immediately clasping around her body to cage her closer to him. “But seriously you are just gorgeous, jus’ how do you get even more beautiful the more life goes on” Y/n soon found herself feeling hot and bothered the more compliments and kisses she received, not to mention the subtle ass squeezes Sy had managed to squeeze in between his monologues.
“Stop it Sy please” She whined carefully tracing his brow with her thumb, trying to distract herself from looking into his eyes which were desperately trying to catch hers. “What can’t I pay my pretty mama compliments? I’m havin’ to stop myself ‘ere” Growling lightly he slightly jerked his hips up, letting her feel his hardened cock through his grey sweatpants, his torso bare. “Fuck Sy”
“I know baby m’sorry, I can’ help it, anytime I see you, smell you or hear you, the little guy gets excited n’ needs ya” Rubbing up her back soothingly under his shirt she was wearing, he felt her slowly start to shift herself back and forth on his lap, her wetness starting to leak through her thin cotton panties to create a darker stain on his pants. “Oh baby what are ya doin?”
“I need somethin Sy, seein’ ya be such a good daddy to Ellie and how you’re just so fuckin’ sexy it actually kills me” She suddenly broke out into a curse, seeing Sy basically move around the house was like porn for her, seeing him tend to the laundry and housework? She was about to bend him over if she could. Seeing him try his absolute best to lighten her load, even taking his babygirl Ellie out on his walks just so she could have some peace and quiet.
“You gonna use me baby? Get what you need momma, so fuckin’ pretty like this, my perfect angel, got my cock all swollen jus by bein you” He pushed back some of her hair away from her face, her expression furrowed as she quickened her pace knowing it wouldn’t be long before Ellie woke up again. “Y-you make me feel so good” Moving her underwear to the side she let her bare sensitive pussy rub against the fabric of his sweatpants, the head of his cock peeking out of the band as per her request.
“Hold on pretty-“ He gasped pulling down his sweatpants to his thighs, letting them feel each other’s skin as they humped against each other lovingly. Her swollen lips parted to hug around his shaft, covering his length in her slick wet juices, the lewd sounds filling the bedroom along with her whines and whimpers; the both of them being careful to not be so loud. “So soft” He would whisper out as his thumb caressed her sensitive nerve, watching her face contort whilst he stimulated her clit.
“You gonna cum for me pretty girl? Can feel it, come on baby I want it so bad” He whispered against her neck, his lips inching upwards until they reached hers. His tongue slipping into her mouth engaging it in a wet spit filled kiss, keeping her quiet. “M-m gonna come Sy” She whispered urgently feeling that band in her stomach grow tighter, with it eventually snapping once one of Sy’s paws wandered up to tug and rub at her hardened nipples. “Aww baby you did so good, m’ so prouda you pretty, makin’ yourself feel good on your man’s lap” He cooed in between grunts as he tugged at his hardened shaft to squirt ropes of cum onto her pussy.
“You proud of me” Y/n smiled hazily leaning back, massaging his cum into her pussy, her eyes peering at him as he brought her back in for a sloppy make-out session, leaving both their chins shiny with spit. “Fuckin’ best thing ta ever happen to me”
(this fic is not proofread)
———
PSA: Haven’t updated in so long but i’ve honestly just been enjoying my summer🫶Hope you enjoy this Dad!sy fic
library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection
taglist: @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @cilliansangel @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @sweetybuzz25 (comment to be added!)
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viking-raider · 7 months ago
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Syverson Family War
Summary-> You've just gotten off a 12-hour shift at the hospital, only to return home and get swept up into a Syverson Family War, between your husband and three children.
Pairing-> Austin "Sy" Syverson/Reader
Word Count-> 3.2k
Warnings-> PG: FLUFF, Cotton Candy Fluff, Light Teasing, Soft!Sy, SAHD!Sy, Nurse!Reader
Inspiration-> This Instagram Video (If this isn't Sy vibes, idk who Sy is!)
Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction!
Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!
-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER
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You were more than excited to be home after a nearly twelve hour shift at the hospital. Your back throbbed and your feet were screaming at the top of their arches from running up and down the ER department. You didn’t even bother gathering up your tote of stuff, as you got out of your car, since you had the next two days off. So, they would wait until a two hour long bubble bath and a nap with eternity.
But upon entering your modest, two story Ranch house, you were bombarded by silence. Your eyes narrowed as they scanned the dining room to your left and living room to your right, ears pricking up for the slightest movement from the bedrooms upstairs.
Something was clearly off. It was almost never this quiet in the Syverson household.
There was always some sort of ruckus or chaos in motion. Your husband blasting music in the garage, where he had set up a small work-out area or telling off whatever game was playing on the enormous tv in the living room. If it wasn’t Sy, it was a combination of your three kids. Your two boys wrestling each other over a toy or giggles, or your daughter discovering a new, little critter from the backyard and bringing it in, before promptly losing it. Or all three kids getting into mischief with each other somehow.
But when it was silent, you knew there were real shenanigans afoot.
You drew in a deep breath, mustering what energy you had left inside yourself, for Syverson Madness. “Guys! I’m home!” You called out, swinging the front door shut with a little more strength than usual, as you moved a step deeper into the powderkeg. “What are you nuts up to?” You mumbled to yourself, moving towards the living room, still trying to keep yourself alert for any kind of trap or scare.
Little good it did, as a strong hand suddenly grabbed your elbow and yanked you backwards into the dark portal of the laundry room door, with a yelp. The hand shifted to your mouth and the door closed with a soft click.
“Ssshh.” Sy cooed at you, moving his hand away. “Gotta keep quiet, Sugar Butt.” He chuckled at you.
You could hear the smirk on his bearded face, before he clicked on the tactical flashlight he was carrying. You looked him over in the dim light, discovering him in his full Army tactical gear, minus his bare feet. He even sported his night vision goggles clipped to his helmet.
“What in the he-” You were about to demand, scanning him again, but spotted one of your son’s Nerf Rifles strapped to his back. “Give me that!” You huffed, gobsmacked, as you took the light and started checking him and the laundry room out. “Good Lord, Almighty!” You laughed, shaking your head.
He had a Nerf pistol in his thigh holster, a pump gun on the dryer, a blaster beside that, and copious amounts of ammo on the washer, with pop grenades. Which you knew were filled with either baby powder or flour from the last time a Syverson War had been declared on the house.
You looked up at your husband, bottom lip trapped between your teeth for a moment. “How long has World War Syverson Seven been going?” You asked, completely amused by how lost Sy got into playing with your kids, and how much they loved it when he did.
Sy looked at his watch. “Since just after breakfast. Myles chose violence and shot Ada in the back, while she was trying to color a picture. Tears ensued, which caused Colt to declare revenge on Myles, in Ada’s name.”
“You got roped into this, how?”
“Ada got in on it, insisting she didn’t need a man to defend her honor…”
“That’s my girl.” You chuckled, smirking.
“It is.” Sy laughed back. “But, in defending her own honor, she shot me in the leg, while I was trying to get them to chill out.”
You nodded your head, seeing all the pieces fall into place. “Which, obviously, by the Syverson Code, requires you to defend your own honor.”
“Obviously, Angel!” Sy answered, faking outrage. “You should know that, after fifteen years!”
“Fifteen years, and I’m still jotting things down in the Syverson Code of Conduct booklet!” You laughed, shaking your head, there were a lot of things Sy lived and would die by.
They were many of the things that made your heart swell with love for the burly, ex-Army vet.
“So, how do I configure into this madness?”
“You just got home from a super long shift, Sugar.” He answered, brow pinching. “You’re an innocent bystander. I just had to save you before one of those hellions out there shot you.”
“My savior.” You cooed, pushing up on your toes and kissing him. “My back and arches appreciate you.”
“The Lair is off limits, per usual.” He informed you. “We just have to make it out of here and upstairs.”
“Quite the way.” You commented, mentally mapping your and Sy’s route out of the laundry room, through the living room and entryway, then finally up the stairs and home free to the master bedroom, which was referred to as the Lair, where you could rest without having to worry about the family war.
“All right, Captain, what’s the plan?”
He gave you the Syverson wink and reached over your head, there was a sharp click and from outside the laundry room, you heard the kids’ screech. Sy had thrown the power switch to the house, plunging it into the darkness. You chuckled, smirking, understanding his tactic now.
“Stay close.” He whispered to you, clicking his ammo to his vest on, before moving to the door. “The enemy is sneaky and uncivilized.” He said, pressing his body against it, listening carefully to the other side.
“Like their father.” You mumbled under your breath with a snort, huddling yourself against his back.
“I’d say more like their mama.” Sy commented back, reaching back to pop you on the bum, then slowly cracked open the door.
You shuffled out after him, casting glances over your shoulder every few seconds. It was easy going, getting through the living room. Sy had defended it mightily throughout the day, so the kids had become shy about entering their father’s domain. You trusted Sy to protect you, from everything, your kids included. Silly as that was to think.
“We have movement at 12!” Sy called out, catching your nine year old, Myles, through his night vision in his fort, consisting of the dining table and chairs that he was hunkered down underneath, belly crawling from one end towards the other, closing the gap between himself and the entryway. “He’s under the table. A sneaky little sniper boy.” He snickered, shouldering the Nerf-AR resting against his side.
You scrunched yourself up behind Sy’s wide and muscular back as Nerf Darts started whizzing by, striking the scuffed wood floor or sticking to the walls. Both Sy and Myles laughed maniacally as they shot at each other; tossing weak insults on top of it.
“Milk drinker!” Myles shouted, hustling to reload.
“Lizard eater!” Sy shot back, smirking.
“Now, boys!” You scolded weakly, snorting.
They continued their assault, Sy guiding you towards a pocket the bottom stairs provided coming down into the foyer, allowing you to take cover and him to shoot through the bars of the steps.
“Are you hit?” You asked, playing along with the game.
“Nothing I’ll die from.” He answered, reloading his weapons. “But, you can be a good nurse and kiss them all better.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“That’s cheating!” Myles yelled out.
“Well, If I was over there, I’d do the same thing to you, Bud!” You called back, planting a kiss on Sy’s cheek, his well-groomed beard tickling your skin.
“An aid relief truce then?” Myles suggested, poking his head out from under the table.
“Certainly not!” Sy barked back, popping a Nerf dart off over his son’s head, sending him scurrying back into his fort. “She’s my nurse! I found her out wandering the battlefield, unprotected. If you wanted her to be your nurse, you should have found her first, yourself!”
“I almost did! Before you kidnapped her!” Myles huffed, hotly. “You’re holding her hostage!” He suddenly insisted. “Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll rescue you!”
“Oh my, a hostage situation.” You sighed, licking your lips. “I appreciate your devotion, son.”
“Ha.” Sy scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, boy. I’m escorting this lovely lady to the Lair.”
As Sy and Myles argued over who was going to have the pleasure of accompanying you upstairs, you caught a slight movement behind you and Sy, lurking in the darkness of the living room; moving slowly. It vanished behind the couch, and for a moment you thought it was just Aika, but when something popped up over the back of the couch, then quickly ducked down again, you were then positive it wasn’t the old girl. But your Daddy’s girl, Ada. Of all the children, six year old Ada was the most like her father. She’d been attached to Sy’s hip from the moment she left your womb. Hanging on Sy’s every word, movement and action, that sometimes it spooked you.
So, watching her stealth around in the dark of the living room was both impressive, amusing and a tad terrifying. Especially since you knew the little hellion was coming for revenge on her father and brother. There were no alliances between them during a Syverson war. You were the only ally allowed to go between the four of them. Mending wounds, mostly pretend ones, but sometimes there were real ones. Sometimes, you’d team up with one of them, to take on the other three.
“On your six! In the living room, babe!” You warned, snagging the Nerf pistol from Sy’s thigh holster as he reacted, purely by instinct, removing one of his baby powder pop grenades, tossing it behind him without looking, trusting your instruction.
Ada startled, surprised that you had noticed her, followed by a cloud of baby powder obscuring her view. She came to a halt, upon hurdling the back of the couch, in an attempt to overtake you and Sy. You took aim and fired, the Nerf dart hitting her square in the chest.
“Nice shot, hon.” Sy nodded, patting your leg, then called out to his daughter. “Sorry, Cricket, but that’s a kill shot.” He told her, his voice soft, but uncompromising.
Ada huffed, pressing her lips together. “Not fair, Mama isn’t supposed to shoot us! She doesn’t have anything to avenge!” She protested, crossing her arms.
Sy chuckled, cocking his head at her. “Mama has her own special rules in our Wars, you know that, Cricket.”
“I’ll come kiss it better, but you know Daddy’s five minute rule.” You chimed in, feeling bad about it, you honestly hadn’t meant to hit her, it was just a lucky shot.
But rules were rules. You could go and kiss her boo-boo better, allowing her to enter the War game again. However, Sy had made a rule that anyone hit with a Kill Shot had to be dead for at least five minutes, before you could render aid to them.
“All right.” Ada sighed, before flopping to the floor with a dramatic sound.
“Where were we?” Sy asked, then nodded. “Right, Myles, kindly allow me to escort my Nurse upstairs.”
“No deal, Pops.” Myles replied, shaking his head.
“Can I just go upstairs on my own?” You asked, peeking at your son through the spindles of the stairs.
Myles was quiet for a moment, considering. “Only if I get to keep you to myself for an hour!” He finally answered.
“Oh, he drives a hard bargain, that son of yours.” You teased Sy, tickling the back of his neck.
“That he does.” Sy agreed, shivering, as he brewed over Myles' offer. “You can have her for thirty minutes!” He negotiated with him.
“Thirty minutes!” Myles barked in outrage.
“You have to go to bed in two hours, boy!” Sy reminded him.
“So, give her to me for an hour!”
You smirked and pressed your palm to the base of Sy’s neck, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear, so only he could hear you. “Let him have me for the hour, Austin. I’ve been gone for twelve hours, and they have to go to bed in two. It’ll give me a little bit of time with them.” You reasoned with your husband. “We’ll have all night together after they're asleep, and the next two days, when they're at school.”
Sy nodded, rubbing his lips together. “You’re right.” He whispered back to you. “All right, you can have her for an hour, after you let her go upstairs and do what she pleases.”
A muffled yes came from the dining room. “Deal! You’re free to come out, Mama!”
“Thank God! I have to pee really bad.” You chuckled, kissing Sy, before scurrying out of your hiding place with him and started up the stairs, as you reached the top, you wondered where your middle child, Colt, was.
The seven year old was oddly missing in action the whole time the rest of you were battling and negotiating downstairs. As you reached the top, a cry filled the air, startling the life out of you, before a fury of Nerf darts peppered you all over.
“COLT!” You howled at the boy, dashing for your bedroom door and taking cover behind it.
“Colt Nero Syverson!” Sy’s voice called up the stairs. “You know the rules about firing upon your mother!”
“I’m sorry, Mama.” Colt’s soft voice whimpered in the dark to you. “I didn’t know it was you.”
“It’s fine, little man.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Just mind yourself.”
“Okay, Ma.” He smiled, ducking back into his hiding place; his room.
“Oh, this family.” You sighed again, closing the door and rushing for the en suite, tugging off your shoes as you went. “Ooo.” You cooed, enjoying the feeling of the icy tile on your bare, throbbing feet.
Bladder empty, you splashed some cool water in your face, then got out of your nursing scrubs, replacing them with a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top. You laid down on your and Sy’s enormous bed, dozing off for a couple minutes before getting back up to fulfill the promises you made to Ada and Myles.
“Colt, I’m coming out, please don’t shoot me.” You called through the crack you opened in the bedroom door.
“Okay, Mama!” He called back.
Coming out of the room, you stood at the top of the stairs, but frowned and turned, heading down to Colt’s room. “What are you doing, buddy?” You asked, peeking around the doorframe, seeing he had made a little barricade and was hunkered down behind his bed. “Why haven’t you come down to challenge your dad, brother and sister?”
“Oh, I have, Ma!” He answered, his smile showing off the two front teeth he lost a month before. “I’m just waiting for the most opportune time to go back downstairs to finish off whoever is left.” He sat up on his bed a little more, eyeing you. “How many of them are left?”
You smirked at him, slyly. “You know I’m not allowed to give away information to someone, especially if I’m not teamed up with them, little man.”
“Poop.” He huffed, slapping his mattress and sitting back. “Do you wanna be on my team?” He asked, hopeful.
“Sadly, your Papa had to bargain me off to your brother for an hour, so I could go to the Lair and change.” You informed him, giving him a sympathetic smile. “But, how about this? When it’s bedtime, I’ll come and read to you, whatever you want.”
“Eragon!” He gasped, enthralled again.
“Deal.”
“Deal!”
“All right, wee man, if I don’t see you before then, I’ll see you at bed time.” You cooed at him.
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You headed back downstairs, pausing on the middle landing. “I’m coming downstairs, don’t shoot!” You announced to Sy and Myles.
“All clear!” They both called back.
You joined them downstairs, finding them just as you left them.
“Mommy, can I be alive again?” Ada called to you from her spot behind the couch.
“Yes, love, I’m coming right now to fix your boo-boo.” You replied, crossing the entryway and leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “There, sweet girl. All healed and alive again. Off you trot. Why don’t you watch a movie on your tablet, until bedtime?”
“Thanks, Mama!” She giggled, hugging your waist, then ran off.
With your daughter resurrected, you joined Myles in the dining room, and despite the soreness in your body, got under the table with him. “Just you, Colt and your Papa now, big man.” You told him, propping your head up on your hand. “Tough crowd.”
“But I got you, Mama.” Myles countered. “You can heal all my wounds.”
“Mm, that I can.” You nodded, casting your eyes past the table legs and made out Sy’s outline. “But, that’s about all the energy I’ve got for you. Bringing your sister back to life took a lot out of me. So, I can’t help you fight either of them.”
“That’s fine. I can finish them.”
You reached out and brushed your fingers through his tamed, black curls. “I have all the faith in the world in you, my sweet boy.” You cooed at him, lovingly.
“Moooom!” He groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Time’s wastin’, kid!” Sy called out.
“You stay here, mom. I’m gonna sneak around.” Myles said, wiggling back up the table towards the back entry of the kitchen.
“I’ll be here.” You replied, propping your head up on your hand, eyes drooping for a moment.
At least, you thought it was for a moment, until you felt a pair of strong hands grab your ankles and yanked you out from underneath the table, startling you awake from the nap you dozed into.
“Jesus.”
“Naw, just me, Angel.” Sy grinned, helping you up.
“Where’s Myles?” You asked, rubbing at the sleep in your eyes and noticing he wasn’t in his tactical gear anymore, but just a pair of shorts.
“Out cold in bed.” He answered, steadying you with his hands on your hips.
“But…” You frowned, glancing at the stairs over your shoulder.
“Colt came down not long after Myles tried sneaking around me through the kitchen.” Sy explained to you, a proud little glint in his blue eyes. “Took out both of us, the little rascal.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “We found you asleep and they understood you had a long day, and would spend time with them tomorrow, after they came home from school.”
You pressed your forehead against his chest. “What in the world would I do without you?” You cooed, sighing heavily.
“I don’t know what we would do without you.” He replied, encasing you in his muscular arms and resting his chin on top of your head, rocking gently. “Let’s go to bed, love.” He whispered, scooping you up off your sore feet and carried you upstairs, to bed.
You moaned softly, sinking into the mattress as Sy tossed the blankets over you and kissed your temple, before joining.
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peyton-warren · 5 months ago
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Fluffy Syverson Recommendations
@cynic-spirit asked on my post here for Fluffy!Sy fic. I decided to start a new post to try to gather some steam to get them recommendations. Here are mine in no real order other than how I found them doing a search. Please add more in comments/reblogs and I will continue to update this list as we go.
Loopy by @pterodactylterrace <<<< Possibly my FAVORITE ALL TIME FAVORITE SY FLUFF!!
The bear and his honey by @gummydummy19
Sweetest things by @mayloma
Syverson Family War by @viking-raider
A Year in Apartment 6B by @gummydummy19
Untitled Mother's Day Fluff by @geralts-yenn
Three-Jump Cowboy by @peyton-warren
Buns in the Oven by @littlefreya ( i cant believe I forgot this one in my original post!!)
More Angst than Fluff but I love them anyway:
There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by @ellethespaceunicorn
The Bell Tower by @thesaucynomad
List of Sy Writers, Alphabetical (mainly so I avoid duplicates) but not inclusive of all Sy Writers:
@angryschnauzer
@beck07990
@cardierreh15
@captainsy-cookiemonster
@deandoesthingstome
@dungeonpuppykai
@ellethespaceunicorn
@feralrunaway
@geralts-yenn
@gummydummy19
@hope-to-hell
@imyourbratzdoll @keanureevesisbae
@jamneuromain
@just-chirpin
@littlefreya
@loganbcrnes
@martha-oi
@mayloma
@mrsevans90 @notabronte @oddsnendsfanfics
@peternoonewantsthat
@peyton-warren
@poledancingdinos
@pterodactylterrace
@raccoon-eyed-rebel
@ramp-it-up @rmtndew
@shellyshellshell
@shewriteswhenthewordscome
@sillyrabbit81
@sweetandgentlecreature
@swiss-mrs
@thelastsock
@thesaucynomad
@thezombieprostitute
@viking-raider
@winter2112rose
@witchersmistress
@wolvesandhoundshowltogether
Disclaimer:
Do not mean any offense to anyone not on the lists above. This is meant only as a start! Will build as more folks provide more stuff. Also check comments for more recommendations. I did not add stories that were added below to the above list. And a number or writers provided links to their master lists.
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jamneuromain · 10 months ago
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Mean Daddy Pt.2
Logan Syverson x Reader (You)
Word Count: 1k
Warning: Mean!Sy, established relationship, pussy spanking, aftercare turns into foreplay(?), oral (implied), a whole lot of teasing, fluff.
Summary: Your mean daddy comes home ... and you're in for the night :]
A/N: For the record, I'm not sorry at all for the cliffhanger (and stretching this short fic into three parts...) @gummydummy19 :3
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Find Part 1 here
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This isn’t exactly what you had planned for tonight.
Well, technically you did plan for some spicy evening events, but you did not expect Sy to make changes to the timetable plan, and spend all afternoon and evening on your bed.
… eh, spending all day on you.
And the worst part is, you have passed out twice now, and except for bathroom breaks and snack breaks, Sy hasn’t stopped playing the game he invented, which has the name “How many times can you cum”.
Spoiler alert, you’ve both lost count, but that doesn’t stop him from playing.
The clock strikes nine, and you feel there’s not one good bone in your body.
Thankfully, it’s another snack break.
While munching on apple slices that Sy cut for you, you’ve turned on your laptop for a show called Family Feud. Basically, the show interviewed random 100 people on the street with some questions, and came back with the top six answers. Whichever team answers more, wins.
It’s less exciting, compared to the detective/murder ones you often enjoy, but this is what Sy needs, something light and funny, instead of the sound of gunshots that would make his body tense up.
“Young man,” the show host Steve Harvey asks, “Name something your girlfriend would do to your face.”
The shy boy on the screen covers his twitching lips with his fist, “Uh… I’m gonna say sit on it.”
The audience on the screen roars out laughter, while you can’t help but giggle simultaneously.
A light squeeze of your tummy dials your giggling down, having you remember the large beefcake wrapping around you with his thick arms and legs.
“C’mon, Sy, you can’t tell me that’s not funny.” You burst out a new fit of giggles, tugging on his bearded chin, without turning around, “Besides,” You try your best to cross your legs discreetly, not getting his attention that your pussy is dripping again, because, for Christ’s sake, your lady parts have been through literal Hell tonight, “it’s not like we haven’t tried it before.”
“Hmm.” Is his grumbling reply.
You let out an exhale of relief. It’s not your fault that your mind is filled with pure filth of how he used to bury his head between your thighs…
The show Family Feud goes on, but you allow the jests and laughs to slip by your ear, since your brain is occupied with porn, and wet your lips when you can almost feel his beard leaving a burn that would remain for days…
The calloused hand moves from your belly to your tits, weighing them in his palm.
Sy’s low timbre ghosts your ears, “Penny for your thoughts, sugar.”
Your pebbled peak rolls under his fingers involuntarily. No word comes out of your mouth except for a small whimper. God, you want him to eat you out, pin you down with one hand over your stomach and one hand groping your tits, swinging your legs over his broad shoulders, bringing you to the edge of ecstasy as you chant his name like a prayer.
“Want to grind on my face?” He proposes with his sinful lips, circling one hand painfully close to your weeping core, while flicking your nipple with the other. “Be a good little slut and ride Daddy like you were told to?”
“Uh-Uh-huh.” You nod eagerly. Your pussy feels raw and used, as if someone (Sy) has set fire to it, yet you could not resist the temptation of reaching your limit once again – what can you say, you never learn from the pain.
Sy admires your ruined body for a brief second, cupping your mound with his palm. You buck your hip to meet his fingers, but to your frustration, he holds his position without wavering, neither meeting your silent plea nor denying it. “Shit,” a sly smile hangs on the corner of his lips, “that desperate, huh? Fucking my hand like that? Poor baby.”
“Sy,” you whimper, struggling in his tightened grip, begging him with your teary eyes, “want you to kiss it and make it better, please Daddy.”
“Aww,” he coos softly, kissing the top of your head, “I like the sound of that.”
Smug bastard.
“Use your big-girl words, darlin’.” Sy traces a bead of sweat that disappears between your tits. His hand glides down your body, sneaking it under your thigh before pulling them wide open, earning a surprised squeal from your lips.
“Want t-to ride your face, Daddy.” You stutter as he lowers his head to kiss the carotid artery on the side of your neck, your fingers dig into his veiny arms that hold your thigh, “Want-ah!”
“What’s the matter, darlin’?” He feigns his curiosity, pretending he has no idea that he has just smacked your sensitive bundle of nerves, “Cat got your tongue? Can’t hear you though,” Sy smacks your pussy again, making you nearly jump from his embrace, “Don’ really know what you’re talking about, sugar.”
The harshness of the slaps adds to the numbness and the sting of your ruined hole, coating his hand with a shin of juices, which he wipes on the side of your thigh, glistening with the evidence of the betrayal of your body, even when it still hurts from the overstimulation during previous hours.
“Daddy,” you whine in embarrassment and a tinge of desperation, “Daddy, pleaaase.”
Sy chuckles behind you, manoeuvring himself to your front, pressing a bit harder on your stomach to have you lie down. Kissing both of your thighs, he spreads them wider than before – wide enough to fit a grown man and his shoulders in between – and trails a line of soft pecks on your lower abdomen, and finally, on your quivering pussy.
“Better make those pretty noises for me, darlin’,” Sy whispers while nibbling on your skin, lifting your thighs onto his shoulders - his favorite position. His tone drips a hint of darkness, both a threat and a promise, shooting a shiver down your spine, “If you ain’t screaming, you ain’t creaming.”
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lainiespicewrites · 1 year ago
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I just want to feel safe - Walter Marshall fanfic. Part 1?
Okay. Preface. This story has mentions of sexual assault. This is a personal story. But I've changed a lot of the names and some of the actual story to fit the fic. I think that I've decided this is going to be a series. It's taken a lot out of me writing this but. I really love Walter and I can see this relationship growing into something more than what is here. I also think that from a healing standpoint, I'm gonna write the story I never gave myself the chance to have. Anyway. That's enough from me. I'll let you guys read the story now. I know this is a heavy topic and situation but I'm still always open to comments and feedback. Thank you guys for the support in posting this <3
Plot: OFC reports assault after 2 years and Detective Walter Marshall is assigned to her case. He will stop at nothing to help her feel safe again.
Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of sexual assault (retelling the story of what happened.)
Unbeta'd Mistakes are totally my own and I own that. This might be a mess because honestly I was super emotional writing this but it felt good to get it all down.
Please don't share without crediting.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m not sure what I expected a police station to be like. Frankly I’d never really imagined myself in one. Kind of funny how things can change like that. All of a sudden you’re doing things you’d never imagine. That’s how I ended up here. In this strangely familiar looking police station. I guess maybe that’s the one thing movies and Tv got right. Police stations for the most part look exactly the same. This whole night started from a list of  “Fuck it why not’s” that spiraled out of control. But that explanation alone was not enough to help the officer help me. I looked back at the petite woman in front of me. I’m sure she was a good police officer. I wasn't trying to doubt her skill. But her overly sympathetic nature and deer in the headlights look on her face was making me feel worse. 
“I know this is hard.” She spoke softly, placing her hand over mine on the table. She didn’t know. She had no idea what this was like. Being attacked like this. Letting yourself become vulnerable because ‘why not’ I’d known those boys my entire life. When my brother invited me out for drinks with his friends, I didn’t have a reason not to trust them. Not to trust… him. My brother didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. He was betrayed too. “But I need you to tell me what you remember, what happened to you, so we can help you.” I looked around again At the empty gray walls. Out the window into the dark cloudy night sky. It must be almost midnight now. Anywhere but at the woman in front of me. What did she say her name was? Rachel? I focused on the empty desk chair behind her when I finally spoke. 
“It doesn’t matter. I remember all of it. Every detail. But we have no case.” I muttered I looked down playing with my hands again. 
“Alayna,” She said my name softly. I met her eyes again for the first time since we sat at her desk. “You don’t know that. You did the right thing coming here and reporting it. I need you to talk to me.” She pleaded with me. She didn’t understand. 
“No,” I said again. “I do know.” 
“How do you know we can’t help you?” She asked her eyes boring into mine. I know she wants to help. I know that but I just don’t see how they  can. not after it’s been so long. 
“There’s no evidence.” I said. 
“Sweetheart, with all due respect you aren’t a police officer we may be able to find something you wouldn’t think to look…”
“It was two years ago.” Rachel paused then. She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair. 
“2 years ago?” she repeated. I nodded. She let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, Why did you wait so long to tell somebody?” She asked. This felt more manageable. This I at least knew the answer for. It was logical. It made sense. Well it doesn’t really make much sense but when you’re bargaining with yourself it does. 
“I didn’t think it would matter. I’m still not sure it does.” I said. I swallowed hard. Now or never Alayna. You didn’t walk 3 miles to the police station, in the cold, after a panic attack to not give yourself some kind of peace. I let out a long breath and started again but then the door of the squadroom opened. A tall figure walked in. I couldn’t make out much of him at first. Just that he was very tall, 6,1 or something and had a full beard. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and beanie. I tensed a little when  I watched him walk from the entrance to the desk next to Rachel’s. He shrugged off his coat revealing a thick gray sweater. He draped his coat over his chair and pulled off his beanie. His hair was a mess of dark curls. As soft and cozy as he should have looked…Something still felt intimidating about him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d walked in the room. None of us had actually. 
“Alayna,” Rachel said my name, getting my attention and finally breaking the silence. “This is detective Walter Marshall. He’s going to be working on your case.” That’s right. When I came in to report, the officer on duty at the station had to attend to a call. When I told them I wanted to report an assault, they told me that they’re psychiatrist was still in the office.  I  could talk to her until one of the detectives was available. I think they were afraid if they told me to come back later… I wouldn’t. They were probably right. Although I’m not quite sure if it would be because I’d lost my nerve or dying of hypothermia on the walk home.  Rachel wasn’t even a detective. Was I really that out of it? Why didn’t I remember that until now?
“Okay,” was all I managed to say. 
“I can stay,” she said. I'm not sure if it was for me or the detective. Maybe both. “If you’re more comfortable. If it’s easier for you. Ya know?” she asked. I shook my head and I watched as the detective…Walter, put his hand on her shoulder. 
“Go home, it's been a long day,” he told her. His voice was deep but he spoke softly. And surprisingly he had an English accent. “We’ll manage,”  his eyes were tired and heavy when they met mine. He offered a gentle smile. I nodded. 
“You’re sure?” She asked. 
“I don’t want to keep you Rachel. I can talk to the detective.” I said. She nodded. 
“Okay, wait right here, just a moment while I catch him up okay? And then you two will get started.”  I gave her a slight nod and just stared out the window again. Rachel and the detective went off into a side office somewhere to discuss what I’d already mentioned. This was sure to be quick now. As soon as she tells him how long it’s been, he’ll dismiss me. This was so stupid. I’d kept this to myself for this long. I knew this was a bad idea. Just as I had convinced myself to get up and leave the office door opened again. 
“Thank you,” Walter’s voice said from across the room. “Get home safe.” he told Rachel as she waved goodbye. I gave her a small wave. I sat back in the chair trying to relax. But I knew I couldn’t. He came back over to the desk leaning his hip against it, crossing one foot over the other. “Are you comfortable out here or would you like to talk in my office?” He asked. “There aren’t too many people still around this late but, it would offer a bit more privacy than the open squadroom. It’s up to you.” He stated. I thought about it for a moment. Finally, I  pulled my eyes from the window to look up at him. 
“I think I’d feel better with a little more privacy,” I said. He gave me a sympathetic smile. 
I stood up from my spot next to the desk.  Then he led me out of the squadroom and down the hall to a small office. There wasn’t much, just a large desk with nothing but a computer and a travel coffee mug on it. The walls were bare other than a standard wall clock. He motioned for me to take a 
seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he shut the door behind us. He circled around to the other side of the desk, setting a file down and taking a seat across from me. 
“You’re reporting  an assault, is that right?” He asked. I nodded. 
“Yes, not a recent one. I’m sure Rachel informed you.” I said. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was wasting his time. Detective Marshall’s eyes met mine. I didn’t find the same overly sympathetic look in his eyes like I did with Rachel. He wasn’t pitying me. He wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze  me. At the same time, it wasn’t cruel or harsh. Not even annoyed. Just open. 
“She did,” he spoke after a brief pause. “But I’d like to hear the information from you myself. If that's alright with you?” He questioned. I swallowed hard. I leaned forward and folded my hands on the desk. 
“I can do that.” My voice shook when I spoke. “Will I need to write a witness statement too?” I asked him. Telling this story once was going to be hard enough. Seeing it written on paper was going to be gut wrenching. 
“Let’s just get through this conversation first. We’ll talk about the rest later, "he said. I nodded. He sat with his forearms leaning on the desk and his hands folded together. He pursed his lips into a tight small smile and nodded toward me. “Whenever you’re ready.” He stated. I swallowed hard. Of course it didn’t necessarily mean that. It was after midnight now. This guy probably wanted to get home. I had to get this out. 
“November 12th, or well 13th I guess. It was around 1:30 or 2am so the 13th. My brother, his friends and I had gone out for his birthday. It wasn’t his birthday though, we had to wait until the weekend to celebrate because it fell during the week.” I was rambling. He needed details. I need to stop rambling. “Uh anyway, We were at a bar, earlier that night on the 12th, but I got kind of tired. The boys were picking on me for being a lightweight and leaving early. I left the bar at 11, got home at like 11:15. I went right to bed. I was really tired. The boys were all gonna come back to the house when they were done at the bar. I woke up to the bedroom door bursting open at like 1 am and someone yelling my name. I screamed. It was my brother's friend. Um.” I paused for a second, starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I have to describe it exactly? What did I have to say? But Walter spoke, easing the tension a bit. 
“And what’s his name?” He asked me. 
“His name is Justin, uh Justin Veach.” I responded. Walter nodded for me to continue as he wrote a note in his folder. He put the pen down and looked up at me again letting me know he was listening. 
“Uh He said, ‘It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it's just me! We’re back, come hang out with us!’ Then he came over to my bed and kissed my face which was weird but he was an affectionate guy and well they were still drunk. I didn’t think much of it. He’d known me since I was a baby. He and my brother had been best friends since kindergarten. They were ten years older than me and he watched me grow up.” I shuttered a little thinking about it. “Um so after that he left. After telling me to come down stairs to talk with them again. And I did. We sat in the kitchen. I just sat there sleepy and confused. The boys were talking and eating drunk snacks or whatever,” I kind of chuckled a little. “It was nice. But we were talking about how it’s so funny that I’m old enough to go drink with them now. And Justin kept making these comments about remembering when I was born and that I was such a beautiful baby. It seemed so weird. But looking back. He knew. He knew what he was planning on doing…. We all said we were gonna go to bed. Blake, my brother, told Justin he could sleep on the couch or they could share his bed or whatever. But Justin was coming up the stairs with us and he said ‘I wanna cuddle’ to me, and he was still drunk and I thought he was joking so I laughed it off and said ‘yeah sure’ I let him lay in my bed. But I put myself on the inside. I thought he was just gonna lay there a minute and like it would be a joke. Blake did too. He asked if I was okay before he went to his room. Because he was still kinda drunk and ready to crash. I said. I was. But Justin didn’t just lay  there. He took off his pants before he got into the bed so he was just in boxers and his shirt. And,”
 I was shaking. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was gonna cry. I didn’t know this man. He was surely annoyed by me and. God he probably thought I was lying. That’s what Justin would tell him. When he confronts him. That I’m lying. Or maybe that's what I wanted. This was so stupid  I shouldn’t have come here. I swallowed hard again. I looked back up at walter. I could feel the tears in my eyes. 
“Take your time.” He said softly. “Is this when he hurt you?” He asked.
“I can’t,” my voice was trembling now. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, I can’t do this.” I sobbed. I stood up to leave his office. Walter stood and walked to the other side of the desk gently reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, I know that. I wasted your time detective. I’m so sorry.”
“Hold on,” Walter’s voice was low. “Sit back down, and breathe for a moment. If anything else I can’t let you walk out of here and drive home in this state.” I looked at his face. He was concerned. Worried about me. About my safety. I sat back down in the chair. I took a deep breath trying to compose myself again. But I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “It’s okay, You’re safe in here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you Alayna.” Detective Marshall said, crouching down in front of me to meet my eyes again. I nodded. “Do you think you can keep going?” he asked. I nodded again. He stood and leaned on the edge of his desk. His proximity seemed to help keep my calm. I don’t know what was so different between him and talking with Rachel. But when he said he could help, I believed him. Maybe it was the sheer size of this man. Or the gun on his hip. Or maybe there was something in his aura or some other bullshit I didn’t understand that was protective and made me trust him. Fuck maybe I’d gone to far to turn back now and I was too emotionally exhausted not to lean on anyone who would listen. Whatever it was, I continued. 
“At first I was just laying next to him. Like I was saying, I thought it was a joke. But he wrapped his arm around me to make me cuddle him.. I guess. He started rubbing my back. I froze up. I started to recognize that his hand was lingering where it shouldn’t but I couldn’t say anything. And this guy he’s .. he’s huge. I mean like 6 foot and like 400 lbs when he rolled over on to me and started touching me I felt paralyzed I couldn’t move but… I couldn’t have pushed him off if I’d tried. I just felt hopeless. That’s when everything happened.” I sniffled softly. I hiccuuped catching my breath. “It was like I was outside of myself watching it all happen…I .. I don’t know if that makes sense? But I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was lay there. I don’t remember if I said no. But,
“You didn’t consent. That’s no. This was not your fault. You’ve already tried to blame yourself. It’s a really common thing, unfortunately, that you can’t react. But that doesn’t mean that you let it happen. Or that you wanted it to happen.”  Walter said softly. I nodded at the ground. 
“Afterward he, he fell asleep and I showered, I had to get rid of the feeling of him. I slept on the couch, Well I tried to. The next morning he was came down and sat with  all of us like nothing had happened. I had mentioned that my back had hurt the night before. And he moved closer to me and rubbed it for me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t react…again. I just. I don’t know. All I could think was, I didn’t wanna start anything. But I also couldn’t make sense of what happened. When he left I changed the sheets. I threw them away actually. My clothes were washed. But eventually I couldn’t look at them anymore. I threw them away too.”
“Why do you think it took you so long to say anything?” Walter asked me. 
“I wasn’t even sure it happened. I wasn’t sure I could call it what it was. I mean he was drunk, I just… Just laid there. It took me over a week to tell my best friend. But It took almost 4 months after talking it out with her and one of my other friends for me to face it and call it what it was. But I still can’t say it.”
“And why are you here now? What made you report it?” He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. This has been eating at me so long but. This month. This 2 year “anniversary.” If you could call it that. Has been terrorizing me. 
“It’s all I could think about the last couple of weeks. I started having nightmares. Seeing him in my dreams. Before when I dreamt about it, I always got away. Someone always stopped him. But now. Now I’m trapped all overagain. It happened in my childhood home. In the room I grew up in. I’ve moved out since then. I live alone. He doesn’t even live in that town anymore. He lives 3 hours away from me. The chances that I’ll run into him are slim. And I don’t have any 
reminders of it anymore. But Sometimes if I wake up and I’m laying next to the wall it sends me into a panic. If I see someone with a similar body type or with a similar voice it shut down. He’s over a 100 miles away. But I don’t feel safe. I’m losing my mind! I’m getting up to check the lock on the door like 10 times before I can go to sleep. What if he just walks in like he did then. He doesn’t even know where I live. But I’ve never confronted him. And he has a wife! And Kids. He did when he did this to me. I can’t get over that. She needs to know but … I don’t, I don’t know what to do! That’s why I’m here, I had another panic attack, I didn’t trust myself to drive. So I walked. ” I was in tears again. He must think I’m so weak. So stupid. What an idiotic thing to do. 
“I understand, and first I want to say, I’m sorry that you went had to experience that. It’s a good you were able to tell your friends, but you were seemingly dealing with this alone for a long time. I’m sure that’s taken a toll on you. The next thing I need to ask you, is what you want to do now that you’ve told me.” I took in his words. He was right. This has been so heavy. And I’ve carried it alone for so long. But now that I’m here I never thought there would be options. 
“What can we even do? It’s been so long?” I asked. 
“Not too long though, if you want to press charges, and see him convited for this, that’s still on the table. If that’s what you want to do then yes, I do need you to write a witness statement. There will be a lot of other legal things that need to be done and signed. Then we can start an investigation. I know you think there isn’t anything here. But well do you trust me?” He asked. Did I? I didn’t know him. But Rachel seemed to. And he had his own office. That must mean he’s some high status detective right? And there was just something about him. Why did he feel so safe. It wasn’t the gun. It was. It was him. I did trust him. 
“I do,” I spoke finally. 
“I’ve put people away, on much less than what you’ve given me tonight.” He said. That felt good. To know he could lose everything. Like he made me lose my sense of security. But then my stomach dropped. 
“W-would I have to see him?” I asked meekly. 
“In court yes, possibly in a line up. But definitely in court. We would need your testimoney,”
“I- I don’t know if I can do that, I don’t know if I can face him.” I shook again. 
“There will be officers in the court. You won’t be near him. He won’t be able to get to you.” 
“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly. 
“If you’d like, yes, I can be there.” He said giving me a soft smile. 
“Can I think about it?” I asked meeting his eyes again. 
“Of course,” He stood and walked back to the other side of his desk. “It’s been a long night emotionally for you, if you’re ready tomorrow to make a decision you can come back in the morning.” He said typing a something quickly on his computer. “If you’ll wait just a few minutes I can gladly give you a ride home. It’s far too cold for you to walk, even it’s a block away.” He offered. I nodded. 
“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s, well its actually 3 miles.” I stated biting my lip awkwardly. He let out a soft chuckle and smiled. 
“Well, I surely can’t let you walk that far this late. I’ll get you home safe.” He said. He finished typing whatever it was he was doing on his computer. Then he locked the file in his desk. He stood and gestured for me to lead out of the office. He turned the light off and locked it behind him. Oh God I’d kept him after his shift. 
“I’m sorry for keeping you,” 
“Oh, no don’t appologize, this is common practice for me. This is honestly the earliest I’ve left in weeks.” He said as we walked back to the squadroom. He grabbed his coat from the desk chair. “Do you have everything?” He asked. I nodded. 
He led us out of the station and to his truck in the parking lot. Once we were settled in, I gave him my address so he could drive me home. I watched out the window as he drove down the familiar streets. The drive was silent. The closer we got the more I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Back home. Back home to be alone again. I was so scared. What if he knew where I lived. I didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t long before the detective was pulling up in front of my building. 
“Thank you,” I spoke breaking the silence for the first time since we’d left the police station. 
“Of course,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a business card. “Take the night and decide what you’d like to do.” He said and then handed me the card. “That’s my cellphone number. If there’s anything else you need call…”
“Would you come in?” I cringed the second the words left my mouth. 
“I, I can search the place, If you’d like. If it would make you more comfortable.” He offered. 
“I mean, could you…” I can’t believe I was asking this, “Stay?” the word came out barely above a whisper. I sighed. I turned toward the window squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m sorry that was stupid, You probably have a wife, and a family to get home to. That was so inconsiderate. I just. I was afraid and I… I’ll just go.” I opened the door. 
“You don’t feel safe, do you?” He asked. I paused and shook my head. I didn’t. I hadn’t for weeks. But I couldn’t ask this guy to give up his time for me. 
“I don’t but, It’s okay. It’s just that there’s only one deadbolt lock on the door. And I don’t know sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. And I can’t seem to get any sleep. But that’s not up to you. I have to figure this out. You’ve done so much to help me already detective.” I rambled. Walter let out a long breath. 
“You’ve got a lot on your mind right now and a lot to consider.” He said. “I’m sure the lack of sleep isn’t helping at all, You could use a good nights rest.”  He stated. 
“But it’s not you’re responsibility and I don’t want to take you away from your family.” I said. 
“I, well I live alone actually.” He bit his lip awkwardly “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? I’ve got some work to catch up on anyway. I probably won’t be getting much sleep. You wouldnt’t be putting me out.”
“Are you sure?” I asked raising an eyebrow. I’d given this poor guy enough trouble. And he was being so kind. Walter nodded. Honestly. The way I was feeling I didn’t have the energy to consider it any longer. I shut the door and walter put the truck in drive. 
It was almost 2 am when we walked into his house. 
“I can just sleep on the couch I, I really don’t want to be any trouble.” 
“You aren’t,” He assured me. “And please, you can sleep in the bedroom, I rarely sleep there anyway. It’d be nice to know someones getting use out of it.” He smiled. I nodded and he showed me to the room and left me to get comfortable. He said he’d be down stairs likely working in his office if I needed anything. I took in the room everything seemed to be a dark navy color the comforter, the curtains the sheets. I chuckled to myself. That made sense for him. 
I slipped off my shoes and slid under the covers. This should feel strange. And it did. But I was safe. And I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I let that feeling take over as I tried to fall asleep. But my mind started to wander again. What if he found out I reported it. What would happen. Or What would he do when they arrested him. What would he say about me. Would he say I wanted it. Tell them I didn’t push them away. Try to convince them that I was lying somehow? He was good at that. And he had a friend from college that was a lawyer. Surely he already had a story. Maybe he’d been prepared since it had happened. I started to shake again. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear the footsteps up the stairs. I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even realize that I’d started  to cry again until I noticed he was next to me saying my name. 
“Alayna. Alayna. It’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.” He soothed.
“I can’t, I can’t… what if he tries to come after me. What if.. What if he tells them… what if tries to tell them I wanted him to…I don’t think I can do this.” I sobbed. Walter wrapped an arm around my shoulder. 
“He can’t get to you. We’ll be sure of that. All that matters, is that you’ve told us the truth. As long as you have, and as long as you confirm that in court. No matter what he says or what anyone believes, it won’t matter. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe again. I think the only way we can do that. Is to put this guy away. I’m not gonna stop until we do. I won’t let him hurt you again.”  He said.  Pulling me closer to him. 
“Do you have a sister?” I asked after a brief pause sniffling softly. 
“No,” He shook his head and leaning back against the headboard letting me rest my head against his shoulder. “But I have a daughter.” He said. 
“Is that why you do what you do?” I asked. He smiled. But he was quite for a moment. 
“Not at first. When I was younger and I first started out, it was just something that I liked. Something I was good at. But when my exwife and I had our daughter, a lot of that changed. It became personal. To an unhealthy point honestly.” He chuckled at himself. “I guess to my own detriment.”
“Is that why you’re still working even though you clocked out hours ago? You could use some good sleep too detective.” I stated. Starting to relax. 
“I haven’t slept well in ages,” He said. “Focusing on the job, oddly enough, keeps my mind off everything else. There are some horrible people in this world. I don’t have to explain that to you. I get so in my own head about how, it could be her. If I spend anymore time considering the what ifs I’d keep her locked in a tower,” He chuckled. 
“I understand that. But surely, If she was raised by you, she’s a smart girl. But.. well I guess,” I sighed. “Nevermind.” Walter squeezed my shoulder softly. 
“Thank you, I know what you mean.” He smiled sympathetically. 
“I’m going to do it.” I said suddenly. “Press charges, I mean. You’re right. Knowing can still get to me. Knowing he’s out there. That’s what’s causing me all this stress and …I can’t keep going on like this.” I stated. 
“I can take you back to the station tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Walter?” I asked nervously biting my lip. 
“Yeah?” 
“Will you stay here? I don’t know what it is I just feel.. Safer when you’re here.” I blushed softly. Walter adjusted so that he was lying on the bed. I moved and laid my head on the pillow. 
“Get some sleep darling. I’ll be right here.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!
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Part 2:
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voxmortuus · 1 year ago
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►PAIRING: Capt. Syverson X F!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Sand Castle ►WORDS: 898 short first chapter ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: You are a female solider, so naturally you're walking into a "male dominated territory." Syverson and you naturally but heads, not a fan of his abrasive ways and his lack of giving a shit for most things. In your eyes, he's unprofessional. You and him start off with this wit he brings out in you, tensions start to build. Eventually you two realize there is something there between you two, but being who you both are, this forbidden fraternization just can't happen, but over time, words are exchanged, and hot heavy moments happen. Soon you're discharged and sent home, eventually you and Syverson end up with the happy ending you both deserve but it will absolutely be trying and hard to get there. Do you have the guts to stick it through? Does he have the means to learn to control his urges? ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Reader Angst | Syverson Smart Mouth | Reader Smart Mouth | Reader Syverson Tension | Foul Language | Sexist Comment ►NOTE: I want to thank @mrsevans90 for the inspiration to create a Syverson Series. ►IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist
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What was this? What was this your life had come to? You weren't upset, you weren't mad, maybe a little afraid and full of adrenaline as the plane landed, but what was this feeling. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, let alone a piece of your brain. A blanket of sand coated your boot the moment you stepped foot onto the ground. It was that moment you realized, one, there was no keeping these things clean, and two, this was really happening.
Sitting in the back of the vehicle after your briefing you head to your post, looking around you everything in, no idea what was to come, who you were going to meet, let alone the kind of people you were going to encounter. Everything was such a rush, and it caused your heart to beat so loudly in your chest you could hear it as if it was in your head.
Upon arriving you were greeted by a few random low ranked people, but it was the captain that caught the attention of you and the rest of the soldiers. Sure there were other females, but not very many, but he picked up on you right away. It was your typical speech. You know the "Don't be a dumbass, don't get shot, don't do blah blah blah..." But in standing there, you felt the tension, but maybe it was your own tension.
In your mind, sure he was handsome in that... way... that bend be over the desk, pound me into next week spank my ass pat my head and call me a good girl for a night kinda way, but let's face it, it had been a while since you've had... company and it had been a long while since you've had enjoyed some good quality company. But right now, that needed to be pushed farthest from your mind.
"I said... fall out." Syverson stated looking at you.
Looking around you clear your throat and shake your head do just that. Had you really zoned everything out? Seems like it. With a clench of your jaw you head to your post and settle onto the cot you were assigned to and get a few things situated.
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New day, time for a new take on how all of this was going to go. Simple work it was right now anyway, but you were going to be working closely with Syverson. Great. You had no idea how any of this was going to go. But it didn't take long for you to realize just how much of a pain in the ass he was going to be.
"Well, you're female, you know how to make a good cup of coffee?" he asked, joking, mildly.
Rolling your eyes, you look at him. "You know, I hate coffee, so no." Okay maybe a mild lie, but still, none the less, you weren't wanting to deal with his jokes.
"Well then looks like you'll need to find a new post." He chuckled.
With a slight sigh, you place his coffee on the table and look at him and shaking your head you take a seat. "What is on the agenda for the day, Sir?" You ask.
Looking at you he points to a large stack of papers. Papers? What the fuck? You look at him with this look of seriously? But you sit down and he shakes his head. "Jesus don't take it so literal... you think I want you to do paperwork that isn't even mine? I don't even do paperwork. Let's go." He sighs and heads out to the squad outside the tent and calls for them.
After a short briefing on what's expected today, he looks at you "Does that answer your question?" He smirked.
Oh if looks could kill. "Kill em with kindness." you hear in your head, something your mother and teachers would say. You simply nod, give a very blank smirk and lick your lips. "Yes...Sir." You state flatly as you fall out and walk in the other direction.
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It was a cluster fuck to say the least, the tension over this first week had only grown thicker and a little hard to ignore. Most people picked up on it and had joked and jested about it. How you had a crush on him, but yet they didn't joke or jest toward him having a crush either. What the fuck? So, it was always you that had the crush? Fuck that! He was annoying, arrogant, self-absorbed, entitled, and to be honest, he was a bit of a beef cake.
it put a sour taste in your mouth, just because you were a woman meant you were the root of all evil, you were the one who had the crush, and you were the one that was going to pollute his mind. You'd pollute his mind, but not because you were trying to, but because he was the one with the crush. He was the one that wanted you. He was the one that polluted his own mind.
Sure, maybe as time went on you and him would see eye to eye, but right now, you wanted to poke him in the eye... with the end of your grenade pin and hand him the grenade and walk away. Little did you know that would all change. You'll just have to wait and see.
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eccentricallygothic · 8 months ago
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|| Triumph Of The Beast ||
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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.
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Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3
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gummydummy19 · 4 months ago
Text
Month seven (November): shower me with love
Summary: You do your friend a favour and drag Sy with you to go house-sitting (more like mansion-sitting, but whatevs)
A/N: Oh my god I'm excited for this one... I know this literally took me a million years (apologies AGAIN). I have missed these two like crazy, so without further ago, get cozy and happy reading <3
Word Count: 4k+
(this is part seven of my series: A year in apartment 6B)
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The days had been shortening, slowly but surely getting gloomier. Most people hated it. The cold and the darkness. Wet pavement, foggy windows, rosy cheeks, and leaky noses.
You found it charming. It made you appreciate the coziness of your home even more. the home you'd been living in for almost seven months now.
While the rain tapped against the floor-to-ceiling windows of your office, you found yourself thinking of that very home. You couldn't wait to finish work and rush back to your apartment, curling up on your couch with yet another sappy romance novel.
"Can I ask you a favor?" your thoughts were interrupted by Elizabeth, your chaotic but very sweet work bestie. You met her during your first week at the office. She found you cursing yourself in the copy room trying to figure out how the printer worked you guys had stuck together ever since. It was nice to have someone to have lunch with and fill you in on office gossip.
"What now Liz?", you sighed jokingly.
She looked around to see if anyone was listening before whispering "Break room, now." and walking off. You quickly got up and followed her, wondering what this was about.
"Clark's assistant asked me to housesit for him while he's on his business trip next weekend."
Clark was our boss. Handsome guy, tall, rich, and always in a freshly pressed suit. He wasn't really your type, but according to Liz he always smelled delicious. Of course, she would know, she had been secretly seeing him for over a month now. It was all very exciting.
"Okay?..." you questioned, not really understanding what the problem was.
"It's the Paris trip..."
Right.
Office romance was very exciting indeed, but also very forbidden, and even though Clark was our boss, he wasn't the boss of the company.
Of course, he asked her to come to Paris with him. You knew it was hard for them to keep away from each other, it was truly adorable to see them try though. No one would have to know. It would be their perfect weekend away.
Except that now his assistant had asked Liz to housesit for him, just to feed his cats and water his plants, and she had no good reason to say no so she didn't. Which then brought her here, in the break room, begging you to cover for her.
'Why didn't you just say no?' you asked
'I panicked! I didn't want him to suspect anything so I just went along with it. Could you please do it for me? Please?'
You wanted to help her. You really did, but the thought of leaving Sy alone for an entire weekend when he still wasn't fully healed made your stomach twist
"Oh Liz...I don't...I mean...Sy is still not..."
"You can take him with you!" she quickly spat, "Think of it as a little weekend away together. Doesn't that sound fun?"
'We're not a couple, Liz!" you blushed
"Oh please you're basically married." she shushed, "Come on, you don't have to stay all weekend just check his mail, water his plants and feed his cats, that's all! Besides, his house is gorgeous, and it has an indoor pool! Didn't the doctor say swimming was good exercise?"
"I guess he did yeah..." you mumbled, "ugh, fine! But you owe me!"
"oh, you're the best!" she squealed, jumping up and down before giving you a bone-crushing hug.
"You better bring me back some ridiculously expensive gift" you joked as you tried to contain your own smile, secretly excited about your weekend with Sy.
_______________________________________________________
'So we have to spend the weekend in some rich snob's house because he wants to fuck his employee overseas?"
"Hey! She's my friend and they are in love!" you shot back
"Oh, I'm sure they are..." he mumbled, rolling his eyes, "I would be too if I got free trips to Paris"
"Don't be such a grump, Sy"
"What about Aika? We can't just leave her all weekend?"
"Your mom is picking her up this afternoon." you simply said
"My mo-...You spoke to my mother?"
"Yeah, she's been asking to see Aika for weeks! She sends her love by the way."
Sy silently thanked the lord for making this a regular phone call and not one of those Facetime situations because he wasn't in the mood to explain why his cheeks grew red at the thought of you being friendly with his mom.
"Right..." he grumbled.
"So you're in then? The doctor did say you needed exercise, Sy. You can't just stay cooped up in the apartment. It'll be fun!" you tried to convince him.
"Alright alright, fine, I'm in"
"Yay! Pack a weekend bag, I'll pick you up after work." you told him, "Oh, and don't forget your swim shorts!"
"My what?!" Sy asked, but you had already hung up the phone, leaving him in regret already
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"Holy fucking shit"
Sy's deep voice boomed through the desolate entrance hallway of the Kent Residence.
"Normally I'd tell you to watch your mouth but...damn," you added, staring at the crystal chandelier hanging from the exceptionally high ceiling.
"Hey, check this out!" Sy called from the living room.
You were so wrapped up in your surroundings, that you hadn't even noticed he wasn't standing next to you anymore.
"May I please remind you that this is my boss's place? You can't just go around and touch every- HOLY FUCK THAT'S BIG"
You found Sy with a remote in his hand, standing in front of what was probably the biggest television you had ever seen in your entire life. I mean, it genuinely bordered on a home cinema. It was ginormous.
"You know Sugar, usually when I hear a woman say something like it it's not about a TV," he grinned, making you blush before you hit him with a pillow, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"You're an idiot," you claimed, trying not to laugh but miserably failing.
"You love it," he grinned again, making you roll your eyes.
"Whatever Syverson, I'm gonna go check out the rooms."
"Hold on, I'm coming with you before you snatch the best one."
Sy was hot on your heels as you rounded the corner. His massive chest colliding with your back when you came to a sudden stop.
“Holy. Shit.”
You stared in awe at what was the most gorgeous indoor pool you had ever seen in your entire life (well in all honesty, it was the only indoor pool you had ever seen in real life)
There were floor to ceiling windows and rows of luxurious pool chairs on each side.
“Damn, does this guy crap money?”
Sy’s rough baritone snapped you out of your astonishment, earning him yet another (playful) eye-roll
You and Sy snooped wandered around the mansion for good 20 minutes before you even got to the upstairs area. There was a long hallway leading up to beautiful French doors.
"That's probably the master bedroom, right?", you questioned, motioning towards the doors.
"Probably", he mumbled, "let's go check it out."
"No wait! We shouldn't...", you grabbed his arm, "It's not nice to snoop."
"Oh please, what have we been doing for the past half hour?", he chuckled, "Won't hurt to look, right?"
"Alright fine...just in and out, no unnecessary touching."
"Funny, that's exactly what my last hook-up said."
Sy whistled behind you as the bedroom was revealed.
"Sweet baby Jesus...." you mumbled, eyes wide as you took in the gorgeous interior.
Everything looked luxurious and expensive. Panel pair curtains matched the shades of the bedsheets and the accent wall. There were fresh flowers on what looked like a pure sandalwood dresser with golden details. Everything was perfect.
"I call dibs," Sy announced, making you snap your head at him.
"Like hell! I'm the one who got us here,"
"Correction, you are the one who forced us to come here, so it would only be fair if I got the master bedroom. As a reward for coming with you," he explained, crossing his arms.
"You're joking, right? What happened to 'Don't ya worry Sugah, I'm a real Southern gentleman!'" you imitated in a thick Southern accent.
"Hey, I do not sound like that!" he pointed his finger at you and you couldn't help but giggle.
"Settle down, cowboy. I'll check the other rooms." The truth is, yeah, that master bedroom was gorgeous, but you cared about Sy and he was still hurt, so if he wanted the master bedroom, you'd gladly let him have it.
You marched toward the closest room, ready to be stunned again. But when you tried the door, you couldn't get it open. You tried the handle again, rumbling the door a little.
"Locked?" Sy questioned.
"Maybe it's a home office, there might be private papers and stuff."
"Or a sex dungeon,"
"You are sick, Syverson. Really fucking sick."
He chuckled at that and you quickly turned around again, partly to try the next door, partly to hide the smile he had managed to put on your face.
"What the...it's locked again. Could you try that one?"
You and Sy tried every single door that could possibly be a bedroom, only to find them all locked. It was getting kinda ridiculous at this point, so you decided to text Liz.
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"Sneaky bitch..." you mumbled as you stared at your phone screen.
"So?" Sy asked, "what did she say?"
"She uhm,...the key isn't here, he forgot."
"He forgot?" he frowned
"Apparently..." you looked around awkwardly.
Liz was so fucking dead when she got back from her stupid Paris trip.
“Guess we’re bunking together then, roomie” Sy grinned, but when he saw you awkwardly shuffling around and stare at your feet instead of grinning back at him, he nudged your shoulder “hey, I’m kidding, I can sleep on one of the pool chairs or something it’ll be fine”
“Sy, don’t be ridiculous I’m not letting you sleep on a pool chair”
“What? I’ve slept on worse, come to think of it, its kinda look our cots back on base, it’ll feel just like home”
“Base is home?” You said it without even thinking, the words tumbled over your lips before you could stop them and you couldn’t help but pair them with a slightly saddened expression.
“I didn’t mean it like that…”
“I mean I kinda get that, I can imagine it grows on you”, you felt like you were treading dangerous territory, but so was he. He knew you worked so hard to make your place a home, he truly didn’t mean to-
“Wanna go for a swim?” You interrupted his thought spiral
“I’d love to”
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You dipped your toes in the water, finding it perfectly heated.
You had gotten changed first, covering yourself in your fluffy bathrobe before heading for the pool and waiting for Sy there, while impatiently checking the temperature.
"How is it?"
Once again the deep bass of Sy's voice pulled you back to the present.
"It's perfect. I'm not surprised, to be honest, he probably has some fancy heating syste-euhm...", your voice trailed off when you saw Sy's beautifully beefy chest. His baggy swim trunks hung low on his hips and the hair from his chest trailed down all the way to-
"Sugar?"
"P-perfect", you babbled, "UH- the water! It's perfect...nice and warm"
He threw his signature grin your way and you swore you felt your knees buckle. That grin was almost too much to handle on a regular day. The grin + him shirtless + THE SNAIL TRAIL???? Yeah you didn't stand a chance.
"You gonna swim with the robe on, Sugar?"
"Jeez, Captain if you wanted me to strip that bad all you had to do was ask"
Alright, you may have sounded confident, but this was all fake it till you make it.
Sy jumped in the water to hide his grin, nearly splashing you in the process.
You threw your robe on one of the pool chairs and your eyes found his right as he resurfaced. He took you in, you could tell. For a second you had the urge to cover yourself up, hiding the parts your black bikini failed to cover, but you opted against it, desperately trying to keep the confident act up.
It was quiet for a second or two while you just looked at each other.
"Perfect...", his voice was barely above a whisper, "The uh..., the water. You were right, the temperature is perfect."
You couldn't help but smile as you realized he was just as nervous as you were. Finally, you fully got in the pool too, relaxing a bit as the warm water surrounded you.
"I could get used to this", you sighed.
"We could put a kiddy pool in our living room If that makes ya feel better?"
You snorted at that, "Yeah, and then have Aika jump in and our entire place smelling like wet dog? No thanks, that kinda takes away the whole relaxing aspect in my opinion"
"Oh alright, Miss Fancy", he splashed some water your way.
"Fuck SY! I wasn't gonna wet my hair!" you shrieked.
"What kinda bullshit is that? Why would you get in the pool if you didn't wanna wet your hair?", his eyebrows furrowed, "too late now anyway, Sugar" he chuckled, splashing you again, right in your eyes this time.
"Ah, shit!" your hands flew to your face as you frantically rubbed your eyes as you turned away from him to shield yourself.
"Shit! Sorry, Sugar, u okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine you fucking idiot", realization didn't hit you until you saw the black streaks on your palms, "Fuck, I was wearing makeup", you mumbled.
Alright. You knew it was ridiculous, wearing makeup to the pool. But it wasn't a lot or anything, just some mascara and a little bit of concealer here and there. You weren't even planning on it, honest to god. But when you thought about Sy seeing you in a bikini for the first time you couldn't help but feel a bit insecure, so you needed something to bump your confidence, just a little bit.
You should have known boys will always be boys. And there's no keeping it dry when Sy is around anyway.
"Sugar? You can turn back around now, I promise no more splashing",
Ugh fuck fuck fuck...You still had your back to him. You couldn't turn around now, you probably looked like a panda. And you didn't want him to know you wore makeup to the pool, he would never stop laughing at you.
"I uh...I think I'm gonna get out...I'm getting kinda cold", you tried to keep your face away from him as you made your way to the ladder, but as per usual, he was too quick for you.
"What? The pool is heated, besides, I can keep ya warm. I swear I'm sorry Sugar, c'mon don't leave?", you felt his big hands circle your waist under the water, pulling your floating body closer to him in a matter of seconds. Your back hit his warm fuzzy chest and you stiffled a moan.
Okay, he wasn't gonna let you leave, new plan...
You desperately wiped under your eyes, hoping to god he wouldn't see.
"Wh-are you...are you crying?", he sounded genuinely concerned, "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to Sugar I promise, lemme see", he carefully turned you around in his arms
"No no, Sy you didn't hurt me, I'm not crying I just..." your eyes met his and for a second he looked even more confused, "Why do you look like Batman?", he grinned.
"Ugghhhh..." you groaned in embarrassment, "I just...I just tried out a new mascara this morning and I forgot I had it on...I have makeup wiped in my bag upstairs just lemme go take it off", you rambled trying to get out of his grip but he didn't budge.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Sugar, just do that later."
"Sy, I'm not being ridiculous I LOOK ridiculous, just let me go fix it I'll be back in a minute."
You tried leaving again, but this time his big paws grabbed you by the face, gently but still firm.
"You don't look ridiculous, Sugar...C'mere..."
For a second you thought he was going to kiss you and your eyes fell shut, but instead, you felt his thumbs wipe away the dark streaks.
"There ya go...all better", he smirked. "No more Batman."
"Ugh, shut up", now it was your turn to splash him.
"Oh don't start what you can't finish, dear." his devilish smirk was enough to make you squeal as you backed up.
"No, Sy come on! My hair!", you swam as fast as you could, and just when you thought you could get away, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle.
"Oh no ya don't", he pulled you back to him within seconds, and just like that...your hair wasn't the only thing getting wet against your will...
"I think your face could use another wash," was all he said before pushing your shoulders down under the water, you came back up immediately gasping for air.
"I can't believe you did that!" you sputtered as he just stood there laughing. You didn't even think before jumping on his back, trying to push him down. Looking back that may have been a dumb idea because the captain didn't budge. If anything, it just made him laugh harder. "Aww, isn't that cute? Well, Sugar if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me..."
"No, Sy", you felt his arms tighten around your legs, "no no no no no n-" he dove underwater, keeping his promise and indeed taking you with him.
"T-truce" you breathed out the second you got up for air, "truce truce truce!", you were out of breath, probably looking like a drowned panda bear and the chlorine mixed with your leftover mascara was stinging in your eyes, "fucking hell, this was not as relaxing as I had in mind", you muttered to yourself.
Sy chuckled, obviously he was looking handsome as ever while you felt like you looked like you were just spit out by something.
"C'mere...truce accepted," he gently pulled you against him again, his fingertips trailing down your sides to your thighs, 'up', he commanded and you unsurely wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him guide you. "there ya go, good girl."
You felt your cheeks heat up and told yourself it was just from his body heat.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and snuggled into the crook of his neck while he slowly floated the both of you through the warm water. A wave of exhaustion suddenly came over you. You were too tired and comfortable to overthink what exactly was happening.
_____________________________________________________________
"Hey Sugar..."
"Hmmm?"
"I really think we just get out now..."
It took you a while to realize you were still in the pool, still in Sy's arms.
"Hm fuck...did I...did I fall asleep?"
"Only a little"
"How long was I out?"
"A good 20 minutes, never seen ya shut up for that long, had to check if you were still breathing"
You wanted to make a snarky comment but all you could muster was a grin before finally peeling yourself off of him and getting out of the water.
"Im starving," Sy said as he reached for his towel.
"Yeah, me too. Do you wanna order pizza? I'm too scared to touch anything in that kitchen"
"Sounds good, probably for the best anyway, don't need ya setting the place on fire"
You threw one of your towels at his face, "Shut it, Syverson. I'm showering first and if I were you i'd be nice to me cause I won't hesitate to use up all the hot water."
"S'fine, Sugar. I'm a military man. Nothing I can't handle", he grinned and watched you turn around with a smirk on your face.
"I could probably do with a cold shower anyway..." he muttered to himself as he watched you walk away, thanking all that was good and pure for not letting you notice the massive hard-on he was hiding while you were snoozing in his arms.
"You order, I shower", you yelled back, "I'll take pepperoni, Cap!"
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45 minutes later you and Sy sat on the massive suede couch, freshly showered, clad in fluffy white bathrobes, and munching on pizza.
"That's such bullshit!" you laughed
"Is not! I swear to you, Sugar! He just stood there in nothing but a thong. Traumatized the entire squad."
"Where the hell did he get a thong in the middle of the desert?!"
"Fuck do I know?! He musta brought it with him?"
You were dying laughing, like actually proper laughing. Tears nearly in your eyes, face red hot, snorting out laughing.
"Sy, there is no way one of your men walked around on base in the middle of the night in nothing but a thong."
"Sugar, I swear to ya, I'm a lot'a things, but a liar ain't one of 'em."
"So what did you do?"
"Sent the fucker home."
"Maybe that was his plan all along? Maybe he just wanted to get sent home?"
"Maybe, Sugar. Maybe." he took another swig of his beer as you chomped down the last bite of your pizza and a comfortable silence settled over you.
"I think I should probably head to bed, I'm exhausted."
"Yeah, me too", he agreed, "I'll just take some things out'a the room and then I'll be good to sleep here."
"Sy, please, don't be silly", you argued, "I was drooling on your shoulder barely an hour ago, I'm sure we can share a bed for one night."
He chuckled at that, "Alright I guess you got a point there, but only if you're sure."
"Yeah, I'm sure genius, but no funny business", you pointed your finger at him.
"Yes ma'am, Roger that", he smirked.
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You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror.
Skincare done, teeth brushed, hair blow dried, perfume sprayed, pajamas on.
Alright, okay. There's only so much you can do to get ready for bed.
"You're gonna have to go out there sooner or later" you spoke softly to your own reflection.
Jesus Christ this was ridiculous. This was YOUR idea. It's just sleeping. You did it before. Earlier tonight, in fact. Just get out there, get in the bed, close your eyes, and go to sleep. Nothing special.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you wanted it to be special. What if he didn't? Oh god, what if he DID?
You took a deep breath and finally opened the door.
"Sorry I took so long, I couldn't find my night cre-...Sy?"
There he was. Bulging shoulders on full display, the muscles on his back moving with each breath, the waistband of his boxers peeking out just above where the sheets covered his butt.
His bearded face snuggled into his pillow, his large arms curling underneath it.
You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at him. The true definition of a gentle giant. It was beyond you how someone could look so fucking sexy and so fucking cute at the same time.
You finally crawled into bed next to him, careful not to wake him up. But as you turned over on your side to turn your nightlight off, you suddenly his beefy arm snaked its way around you and pulled you close to him.
You barely managed to flip the switch before feeling his warm chest against your back again. His beard tickled the back of your neck a little making you grin, soft snores telling you he was still fast asleep..
It felt so good, so safe, so warm, so comfortable...you dozed off with a smile on your face, and not a care in the world...
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ramp-it-up · 7 months ago
Text
Two Most Wanted Pt. 4...Anytime you Like
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Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"
Summary: You have your way with Sy. Or is it him having his way with you? 🧐
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, talk of birth control, Graphic sex. Fingering, manual sex (f receiving) oral, Dom Sy is coming out to play, degredation AND praise kink, dirty talk kink, begging, raw p in v, size kink, pleasurable pain, rough sex, copious amounts of bodily fluids, some fluff and just a lil' angst at the end. This is 2.5k of porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot.
Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N:  This is the fourth 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
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Sy gladly let you pull him into your rental.
Then, he took control.
He pushed you against the wall and placed his hands on your waist, bending down because of the height difference, even though you were wearing four inch-heels. You’d missed how tiny he made you feel.
Sy’s mouth was so close to yours as he queried you. His eyes were so intense.
“You’re not done with me yet, eh?”
You pouted and his lips tenderly touched yours, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips. His tongue insisted that you belonged to him and yours agreed, the two dancing passionately.
“Good girl. Opening up for me like that.”
Your head was spinning and you whined in your throat. 
“Hm.” 
Sy grunted and then smiled before he kissed you again. You were glad for the wall as you were weak for him again. 
“Whatcha wanna do with me, Buttercup?”
Sy’s fingers were on your ribcage now, his large hands spanning your torso. Then, his hands were everywhere as he explored your body, from your breasts over your dress, to your back, down to your ass, which he squeezed as his mouth possessed yours again.
“I want to be your cum slut, Sy. Want you inside me.”
Sy stopped moving, resting his forehead on yours and his hands on your hips. He huffed into your face.
“Holy shit, Buttercup. I thought I was calm after what that mouth of yours did in the Bronco. But what that mouth of yours says…”
Sy’s hand was on your jaw and you turned your head to capture his thumb and suck it. 
“Wan’ you to fill me up, Sy.”
You looked him straight in the eye as he pressed the rock hard length in his pants against you. His pupils were blown and you felt enormous power.
“Hm. The thoughts you think, Buttercup.”
Sy examined your face as he questioned you, his blue eyes making you shiver.
“You want me to fuck you raw…?”
You smiled at his lewd suggestion and the gravel in his voice, and lifted your arms, placing them on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 
“I’m on the pill. And tested regularly. But only if you want to.”
The expression on his face was priceless.
“If I want to? Hell, Buttercup. I’ve wanted this for 20 years. Jesus, it's really happening.”
He looked as if he would devour you.
An unexpected joy at his want caused a giggle to bubble up in your throat as Sy rolled you around the corner, further into the room, and started trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck right below your ear. His hand was on your ass as you started to grind on air. He remembered your spot.
“Fuck, Sy!”
His other hand came up around your neck and tightened to let you know who was in charge, and you whimpered as he looked down at you and grinned.
You pouted at him, frustrated because you wanted to feel all of the things at once.
Sy’s hands roamed, finding your waist again and lifting your feet off the ground as he kissed you, making you heated at the show of his power. He set you down again, squeezing your breasts and sucking the tops of them in your dress as you writhed in his grip. 
“Let me see you in the light, Buttercup.”
He reached around and wasted no time in pushing his shirt off your shoulders and unzipping your dress to let it fall to the floor.
Sy stepped back and took all of you in. You felt like a piece of art as he studied you. You concentrated on not covering up. 
This was a long time in coming.
“Damn, Buttercup. You’re so beautiful. All of you. Better’n my dreams.”
Sy looked into your eyes after taking in your curves. Hungry.
“Kiss me, Sy.”
He did as you asked, hands on your breasts now, kneading them and weighing them in his hands, his thumbs thrumming you like an instrument. He kissed you fiercely, then looked into your eyes again as he slid down to inhale you, mouth sliding over your flesh, between, underneath, on top, and finally, sucking your nipples into his mouth with abandon.
You moaned as your pussy pulsed with need.
“Sy…please…”
“Don’t rush me now, baby. I’m gonna savor this.”
He kissed you again, and then slid his hand down your torso to your pussy, finding you still so wet for him.
“Hm. Such a good girl, with such a good pussy. Here. See.”
He held your gaze as he brought his fingers up and put them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.
It was so dirty that you practically came from the taste of your desire for Jacob Syverson. 
“Thaaaat’s a girl. Get ‘em even wetter.”
He removed his hand and brought it back down to your cunt.
“I want you to cum for me. Right now.”
“S-Yyyyyyy!”
Most of his fingers went inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. He practically lifted you off the ground as he fucked you with his hand, watching your face as he alternated marking you up and sucking your nipples hard.
“So fuckin’ hot, Buttercup. Good girl.”
His voice was doing things to you. Sy grinned and his eyebrow arched as he felt you clench on his fingers. He brought his mouth close to your ear.
“Which is it, Buttercup? Are you a cum slut, or a good girl?”
Your head went back into the wall as you moaned, baring your throat to him again.
“Or is it both? Are you my good little cum slut?”
“Oh my fucking godddddd!!!!”
You came in his arms and Sy watched you, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t wait anymore.
He picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed as he took off his shoes and clothes. You sat up to look at him.
He was massive. Sy had matured from a lithe youth to a grown man and he was thick all over. The curls on his head continued on his face and on his chest, a dark rush of it pointing down to his cock, which you knew was big, because you’d tried to swallow it earlier. But seeing it like this, hard and throbbing, curved against his hairy stomach, large mushroom tip leaking, thick shaft throbbing, made you lean back with your legs open. 
‘I want that,’ you thought.
Sy took it in his hand and started stroking, causing precum to drip out and you to lick your lips.
“You’re about to get it, Buttercup. Anything you want. Look so fucking beautiful all laid out for me.”
You smiled as you realized you’d said that out loud and you opened your legs wider as he climbed between them. He handled you like a rag doll as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to his legs as he knelt on the bed. He grabbed your knees and spread your legs up and apart as his long thick cock slid in between your legs, smearing your wetness all along the underside of his shaft.
“Mmmmmmmm, Sy, want more.”
He was skating in your slick, driving you wild with the tease of the cap of his cock catching on your clit as he moved back and forth.
“Patience, Buttercup. Need to lube myself up with your cream.”
Sy was enjoying how wet you were and the fact that he was actually between your legs after all this time. He watched, almost mesmerized, at his cock moving through your folds, and his dick jumped, slapping you on the clit and making you moan.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… OH shitttt. It’s too much!”
You’d gone from begging for his dick to pleading for mercy as his thick head breached you. You stared at Sy wide eyed as he grabbed his shaft and stopped moving. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting you.
“You good? Want me to…”
He made to pull out and then you implored him.
“No! I mean, it’s so big, Sy… but I want it. Need. It.”
You grabbed your breasts as you felt him cock jump within you.
“More, please.”
“Mmmmmmoooooahhhh,” Sy groaned deeply as he slowly eased into you and at the vision of you pulling your own nipples as he stretched out your soul. 
He bottomed out and licked your exposed neck, causing you to shudder in his hands, which were gripping your ribcage. You looked like sin and felt like heaven around him. 
“You good, Buttercup? Please say you’re good. I need you to be good, baby. ‘Cause I need to fuck you so bad….”
Sy was panting and his heartbeat was erratic.
As always, his words made you gush wetness and you arched as you kissed him, laying down fully and bringing your hands to his short curls.
“I’m good Sy,” you looked him in the eyes. “So fucking good, all full of you. Fuck me. Please… ah!”
As soon as you said ‘fuck me,’ Sy started moving slowly, dragging sparks with with each millimeter of movement inside you.
“More…”
You whispered it as all of your senses came alive and were overwhelming you. 
Sy sped up and looked from your eyes to his cock destroying your pussy. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long, your face, your hair splayed out beneath you, hour breasts with nipples erect and bouncing, the way he was moving you like a doll as he helped himself deliver the dick to your pussy.
“Good god Buttercup. This cunt is so tight and wet and hot for me. Shit, you stretched around me is so much better than my imagination….”
“Ooooh. Sy. Feels so…Your cock goes so deep.”
It had never been like this before. With anyone.
Sy gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned back and grabbed your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half so that he could plunge even deeper inside you.
Your head shot up to witness him ravaging you as he slowly fucked you with long and deep strokes. You dug your nails into his forearms, holding on for dear life. He fucked you so good that you gouged scratches down his arm and the pain sparked a new pleasure in him that he didn’t know he needed at the moment.
He was inspired to fuck you better, faster, harder.
Sy reached up behind your head and pulled it down by the thick curls at your nape as he leaned over you, caging you in with his massive body as he thoroughly and soundly tried to put you under the bed.
Your belly tightened, your insides in a vice grip of pleasure as you tried to run. There was nowhere to go, however, as Sy was all around you. He felt you tense up, heard your whimper and kept a steady pace, his balls tight against him, the notion of making you cum with just his cock a long held ideal.
“What’s wrong Buttercup?”  
He looked you in the eyes before he kissed your lips.
“Afraid to let go? Don’t want to let me have the cum I’ve been waiting for?”
“Unh! Sy…”
You felt him in your belly, thick in your channel like he was made of you. You knew what was about to happen. And you wanted to get away from it.
Sy read the look on your face.
“Unh unh. You’re going to stay and take my cock like a woman. Not gonna run. You’re gonna take this orgasm, gimme your cum like I deserve it.”
Sy didn’t let up on the intensity, but he looked down and surveyed what he was doing to you.
“Look at all that beautiful cream. Looks so fucking good. Making me drool.”
You had an out of body experience as you watched the saliva leave Sy’s mouth and drip onto your clit and as soon as it made contact, you came, gushing more fluid in between you two.
Sy pounded you through it for a few thrusts, then he pulled out and rushed to collect some of you on his tongue.
“Goddamn. So fucking good, Buttercup. Taste yourself.”
He was up again and before you could protest, was back inside you, hand on your throat as he kissed you hard and deep, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his resolute pounding and the taste of your cum combined. He trailed his hand down your neck to your breast, rolling your nipple for a second before finding your hand and holding it above your head as he looked into your eyes. 
Suddenly, he became tender, looking as if he was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear, so your other hand found his ass as you encouraged him to find his own end.
“Gimme your cum, Sy. You owe me. Some. Cum.”
He licked his lips at the filth you were uttering and responded in kind.
“Anything you want, Buttercup. I’ve got so much, you’ll be leaking for days.”
You arched your back and bit your lip at his words and as the music of skin slapping on skin intensified. You felt yourself tighten impossibly around him again. And so did Sy.
“Oh…. no….” 
You felt as if you couldn’t take another, but Sy wasn’t done with you yet.
“Oh, yes, baby. Just give me one… more….”
Sy’s thumb found your clit and as you came around him, he emptied all he had inside you.
“You feel like…like heaven, Buttercup.”
Your hands were on his face as you watched his ecstasy and as he pumped more and more of his seed inside you. You smiled and kissed his forehead as his head bent in exhaustion. You wanted to say that he was beautiful, but that would be more than you wanted to convey. You just kissed his lips when he looked back up at you again, and you collapsed on your sides, your bodily fluids between you and his slowly softening cock still inside you.
Sy pushed your hair back from around your sweaty face.
“Look, Buttercup, I know that you are holding back. But you can’t stop me from saying it again.”
“Sy-”
“Shhhh, Buttercup.”
Sy smiled. Handsome wasn’t the word.
“I love you. ‘Til the day I die.”
He brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.
“I know you’re still trying to process everything, and I can only imagine all of the things that are going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but you’re mine. I’m claiming you. Whether it's for the rest of our lives, or just for this weekend.”
You just looked at him and nodded, emotional and unable to speak.
“Just want you to know where I stand. This wasn’t just notalgia sex.”
He slipped out of you and rolled over on his back before he got up and headed toward the bathroom.
“And for whatever time period I have you, I’m yours. Anytime you like, Buttercup.”
He looked back at you with a saucy grin as he caught you ogling his ass.
You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him turn on the water. There was a lot going on in your head, but Sy had just told you that he wanted you and simultaneously taken the pressure off this weekend.
You thought about what you wanted. And what you wanted was currently taking a shower. You walked into the bathroom to have some more of him. You opened the shower door and Sy reached out and pulled you in.
“Get in here Buttercup, the water’s fine.”
That grin would do you in.
Next part here
——
Hit Reblog if you like it!
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f10werfae · 2 years ago
Text
Daddy’s Princess Fairy
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pairing: Husband!Dad!Sy x Wife!Mom!Reader
summary: Sy comes home to his newborn babygirl and wife after his last ever deployment, and he’s desperate to meet his tiny twin, and get into his wife’s panties (Dilf Sy) likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶
Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist
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“Daddy’s nearly home booboo, he’ll be out here any second now” Y/n cooed bouncing her baby girl in her arms, the two month old softly snuggled against her mama, the both of them waiting at the entrance of the military base along with the other families. Her eyes tracing each body that left the aircraft, her breath hitching when she saw her big hunk of a man step out, his head shaven but his beard grown rough and long. God he looked filthy but so sexy.
Biting her lip she saw him take off his dark sunglasses as he scanned the crowd carefully, his lips pulling into a smirk once he saw his baby momma waiting at the back, away from the crowd; holding his baby girl. Practically skipping all the steps he threw his bag to the ground, his built arms bringing his wife and newborn into his arms, this was his first time home since that night their daughter was conceived. That one special night by the fireplace.
“Fuck pumpkin, missed ya n’ your sweet self s’much” He grumbled inhaling her scent deeply as he grazed his nose up and down her cheek, his other hand cupping his daughter’s head, this would be the first time he would see her in person. “And this- this is Penelope, Penelope Syverson” Y/n giggled holding up Penelope up to Sy, and even he could see she already was his twin, the same grouchy look already.
“She’s stinkin’ adorable, i’d say jus’ like her momma but i’m seein’ frowns on her already” Sy chuckled seeing his babygirl whimper and wiggle, leading Y/n to place the tiny babe into his arms, and just the mere size difference between the father and daughter was enough to make a witch’s heart melt. “She missed you, anytime you wasn’t on the phone she’d cry and whimper until I played your voicemail” Y/n explained tucking Penelope’s bib a bit more, seeing how she was drooling onto her daddy’s arm.
“Awk babygirl you break ma heart, m’not leavin’ again, I can’t do it- that’s me done” Sy chuckled bending down and kissing her forehead, breathing out a sigh of relief, he was finally discharged and able to start the rest of his life. “Damn right you aren’t leavin’, we still need to give our bubby a brother” Giggling Y/n latched herself onto his arm, the happy family walking towards the pickup truck waiting for them; Y/n watched on as Sy carefully put his pride and joy into her carseat, pouting up at Y/n when he realised Penelope wouldn’t let go of his finger.
“Babe, jus pull your finger out come on” Y/n laughed as he shook his head, “no can do sugar, don’t want my babygirl thinkin’ am leavin’ her again, can’t be her first heartbreak”
“If ya let go i’ll give ya some of your treat when we get home, after I put Pen down for her nap” It hadn’t even been two seconds but Sy carefully pulled his finger out, kissed his baby bye bye, and jogged over to the driver’s side of the pickup truck. “Now ya gotta keep your promise, wait- are you even okay down ‘er” Sy questioned looking concerned down at her crotch, he knew how hard the healing process was for his wife, needing stitches and medication. It honestly broke his heart that she had to go through it alone, but she was strong and independent, just his typa woman.
“Yup! Doctor gave me the green light a while ago, jus wanted to surprise ya for when you got home, Captain Syverson” Y/n winked grabbing a handful of his thigh tightly, his eyes widening and smacking her hand off, “Jesus woman didn’t ya read the sticker on the car? There’s a baby on board” He joked intertwining their hands and kissing her knuckles, leaning forward and pressing a heated kiss to her lips, his beard scratching her face in the best way possible. His tongue venturing out to lick over hers, tasting his favourite watermelon lipbalm causing him to groan into their kiss.
“Forgot how much I missed these luscious lips of yours” He growled pulling away, kissing her lips once more before sitting back in his seat to look at her, his wife. “Yeah? What else did ya miss” She giggled leaning over and pulling him back towards her, both her hands holding onto his as she looked up at him, her fingers then playing mindlessly with the wedding ring on the chain around his neck.
“These other lips down ‘ere” Laughing his hands smoothed up her thighs, settling under her dress, right on top of her panties waistband; he could already feel that it was those cotton white ones that he had a thing for. She just knows him so well. “No you didn’t”
“I did” She winked pulling up her skirt enough to show the start of the soft cotton pants, pulling the skirt down fast enough once his fingers tried their way up again. “Nuh uh mister, only when the angel is bed do we get to play” She scolded turning the ignition on for him, watching as he scoffed and turned his attention to the road
-
“Alright princess fairy queen, ah need ya to get to sleep pronto” Sy whispered into his baby’s tiny ears, the tiny tot sleeping on his bare chest, her head nestled comfortably on the curls on his chest. Her tiny fist clutched peacefully as tiny gurgles and coos came out every time she hiccuped or moved. “Princess fairy queen? Really Sy?” He heard his wife ask from the nursery door, clad in her white silk robe, very clearly not wearing anything underneath.
“I need my little girl to know she’s the best of ‘em all, n’ that means callin’ her every nickname on God’s Earth so she knows how much ah love her” Looking down at his tiny tot, he felt the need to lean down and nuzzle his nose with hers, pulling away instantly when he heard a toot. A fart.
“Now was that from me or you?” Sy frowned holding her up to face him, her tiny eyes clearly shocked, her own farts had woken her up just from how loud it was; “Tell ya what bubby, you’re definitely your daddy’s daughter”
“Yeah there’s now way that loud thing came outta this tiny precious sugar cube” Sy questioned seeing the tired girl had gone to sleep in his arms again, thankfully for Sy’s sake she didn’t need changed, well not yet anyway.
It finally seemed like baby Penelope finally got the memo when she finally stayed asleep in her bassinet, after 20 minutes of him just whispering pointless happy memories of him and her momma, many soft baby back rubs and head scratches and of course with her binky in place. Princess Penelope was down for her nap. Now Sy could have his wife, any way he darn wanted.
“Momma, you spoil me too much” Walking into their shared bedroom Sy saw his wife, her robe untied as she laid on the bed waiting for him, a chocolate covered strawberry already in her mouth as she winked at him, her legs spread open showing off her glistening folds; she needed him as much as he needed her.
“Irish twins?” Y/n asked plucking the strawberry from her mouth, licking its juices from her lips as she quirked up a brow; Sy doing nothing but growl and rush to get rid of his white t-shirt and cargo pants. “I’d give ya irish triplets if it were possible” He snarked climbing on top of her, his body hovering over hers as he bit into the strawberry that was back in between her lips, his teeth squeezing the juice down the valley of her tits. His delicious welcome home treat, just for him to enjoy.
———
PSA:Hope you all enjoy this bit of Daddy Sy 😗
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See you all again very soon xoxo
- Fae
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viking-raider · 1 year ago
Text
Sy's Therapy Barn
Summary: Austin Syverson is newly retired from the Army and struggling to cope with his PTSD. Until he decides to take a chance on a hobby, most wouldn't think could help, and the person there to help teach him how to do it.
Pairing: Syverson/Reader
Word Count: 5k
Rating: M - Quick-Burn, Language, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of PTSD, Combat Fatigue, Trauma, Wine drinking, Flirting, Support System, Movie Quotes, Leap of Faith, Mentions (but no depictions) of Mental Illness, Domestic Violence, Alcoholism, SMUT - Light, P in V
Inspiration: I saw this Instagram video of a handsome, buff gentleman that ran a pottery business and promoted it on the site.
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed it. I am so sorry to any Pottery people for butchering it.
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Syverson wouldn't lie, even though he had thought the hobby was stupid, the first time he thought about it. But, upon seeing a poster at an outdoor market he had decided to attend one, warm Dallas weekend, to get out of the house. Something inside of Sy had urged him to save the number in his phone, before finding the ale stand.
It wasn't until almost a month later, after waking up in the dead of night. He laid curled up in a ball, hugging his knees and struggling to breath. With the blankets and pillows thrown off the king-sized bed, and the black fitted sheet beneath him drenched in his sweat. Aika pressed against his back and whimpering at her owner's distress. It was then that Sy knew he needed something more, other than just denial, the gun range and booze to deal with his PTSD and Combat Fatigue.
He wasn't about to go sit down on some squeaky metal, folding chair, in the basement of some random religious church, listening to other Vets talk about their combat experience. Everyone nodding their heads and offering sympathy and the Word of God. Sy had stopped believing in God over a decade ago. Because, how could some magical man in the sky, with some grand plan for you, before and after you died, allow such bullshit evil into the world.
He didn't want sympathy, far from it.
Austin Syverson, also didn't do sympathy.
So, he pulled up the number from the outdoor market and gave the business a call.
“Mini's Pottery Haven, how can I help you?” A cheery voice chimed on the other end.
Sy let out a hard breath. “Hi, I saw your poster at a market, a couple weeks ago, for a pottery class.” He said, rubbing a palm over his buzzed head, feeling stupid for calling a pottery business, thinking it would help him, in any way, with his trauma. “I was wondering, if you're still doing classes?”
“Yes, we are!” She confirmed, happily. “We have one tonight, with two spots left, if you'd like to join it.”
“Oh!” Sy started, surprised, not expecting one so soon, hoping for a day to work up the nerve to call her back and cancel. “How much is it?”
“Thirty dollars, for just one person, and sixty dollars for a couple.” She informed him, pressing her phone to her ear and bringing up the planner on her computer. “You can pay when you arrive at the class.” She added, distractedly.
Sy paced his kitchen for a moment, before pausing and straightening his back. “I'll take one of the spots and pay the thirty, when I arrive.”
“Excellent! Can I have your name, please?”
“Syverson.” He answered, out of pure habit.
“All right, we look forward to seeing you tonight, and what you create!” She told him, her voice upbeat and optimistic, like she expected Sy to be the next Michelangelo, before hanging up.
“The boys would lose their shit, if they ever find out I tried pottery.” Sy said, stuffing his phone into the front pocket of his jeans.
Later that night, Sy found himself standing out front of the humble, little pottery shop, the full window front was bright from the lights inside, which was flowing with people, all standing around chatting with each other and holding glasses of wine.
“At least, they have booze.” Sy commented to himself.
“First time?” A soft voice asked, from behind him.
“Huh?” He frowned, turning around to find a gorgeous woman standing behind him, a large bag slung over her shoulder, as she regarded him with a kind expression. “Oh, yeah. You?” He asked, trying to be polite.
“Naw, I've been getting my hands messy with clay for years.” You smiled at him, patting your bag. “I assume you're here for the class.” You asked, motioning towards the shop.
“I am.” Sy nodded, licking his lips. “Just working up the nerve to go inside.” He explained to you.
“Ah, yeah. We pottery nerds can be dangerous.” You teased, smirking up at him. “You make one reference to Ghost in there and they'll turn you into a clay mold. If not, pelt you out of the shop with lumps of it.” You giggled, moving by him to step up onto the curb and grab the door handle.
A laugh rumbled out of Sy's broad chest, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I'll make sure to keep the Ghost quotes to myself then.” He said, turning his sparkling blue eyes towards you.
“Well, no time like the present.” You told him, pulling the door open and holding it for him.
“That's true.” He nodded, his smile softly fading as he joined you on the sidewalk, stopping beside you for a moment. “Thanks for the pep talk.” He said, giving you a gentle nod, before going inside.
The place was a buzz with voices as he paused by the counter, taking out his wallet to pay for his admission for the night's class. He glanced over his shoulder to see where you'd gone, but you had vanished somewhere into the crowd. Shrugging, figuring you'd paid in advance or had some sort of membership, he handed over his bank card to Mini, the owner of the business, who was a sweet looking, elderly woman, dressed in a loose and colorful, bohemian strap dress. Taking his card and the Hello, My Name Is: sticker she handed back with it, Sy turned away, spotting the small wine station, also surrounded by numerous black sharpies. He headed over, scribbling Sy, on his sticker and poured himself a glass of some kind of red wine, before finding somewhere quiet to stand, to wait for the class to start.
As he stood there, sipping his wine and looking at a wall of finished clay figurines, cups and other knick knacks, he felt a pair of eyes on him. Clearing his throat, he glanced sideways, figuring you were checking him out, which he was more than fine with. But he discovered it was another woman giving him eye-candy. She was tall, with bleach-blonde hair and in a hot-pink tracksuit, she felt out of place for a pottery shop. Though, Sy knew he shouldn't be one to speak, standing there in a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt, that had been to war with him, tight blue jeans, a pair of cowboy boots, with a black stetson cowboy hat.
The way she lifted her wine glass, however, suggested she wanted to jump his bones.
Which only amused the retired Army Captain.
“All right, ladies and gentleman!” Mini called, clapping her hands together and coming around the counter to regard her customers. “If we can all head towards the other end of the shop, where all the potter's wheels and everything are. We can start the class.” She smiled, motioning everyone to the back.
Everyone moved to the back in a messy, single-file line, still sipping the rest of their wine and chatting with each other. The woman in the pink tracksuit lagging back to walk with Sy, fluttering her lashes at him.
“Ma'am.” He acknowledged her, touching the brim of his hat, but didn't give her much else.
“What's a man like you doing in a pottery class?” She asked, biting the corner of her lip.
Sy licked his lips. “I got nothing better to do.” He said, not willing to admit the real reason he was there to her.
“I'm sure a big, strong, handsome man like you could find something to do.” She insinuated, fluttering her lashes at him.
“Pottery is just fine, thanks.” Sy replied, offering her a weak smile.
“Everyone, please find a pottery wheel and it doesn't matter which one.” Mini said, motioning to the dozen or so pottery wheels in a circle, a round lump of clay already waiting on them to be shaped.
Sy waited until almost everyone was seated, not wanting to take the chance of getting stuck sitting next to the woman hitting on him, far from that mood tonight. So, taking up a pottery wheel and grabbing the provided apron, he took off his hat and set it on a shelf behind his wheel, and slipped on the apron. Sy chuckled, sitting down on the comically small stool before the wheel, as he balanced his large, muscular body on it, smirking up at the rest of the group; seeing some of them sit on the stool like they'd done it a million times and others wobble.
“The first thing we're going to do, before we start shaping our clay,” Mini began explaining, sitting at wheel herself, apron on and perched on her stool, like the forty-plus year pottery maker she was. “is to assign our first timers, helpers. I will be giving instructions and so forth, but your helper will be there for you, just in case you need a refresher or get frustrated.” She told the group, looking around at everyone. “But just remember, just like us, human beings, we are all unique and beautiful. It doesn't matter how many times your clay refuses to shape into what your mind's eye thinks it should, or tears apart, or even if it doesn't bake right in the kiln. It is still beautiful! You still brought it into this world with your own two hands, and you should be proud of that. Because it's something no one else in this room did.”
Sy blinked at her, slightly taken aback by her statement. So used to Army instructors drilling into him about, if it's not perfect, you're dead or your buddy next to you, is.
“So, helpers, I'll let you pick your person. You've all worked here before, so you know how to identify them.”
“And how do you do that?” Someone blurted out, making Mini and the helpers chuckle.
“Well, that's one way for us to find you.” One of the helpers quipped in an Australian accent, moving across the room to said person. “But, it's the name tags, mate, or Ryan, I should say.” He smirked, offering out his hand to the newcomer. “I'm Joel.”
“Those of us here that don't have a name tag, are old pros.” Mini smiled, resting her forearms on the edge of her potter's wheel, while the rest of the helpers spread out.
“Good to see you made it all the way into the building.”
Sy looked over his shoulder and grinned up at you. “Yeah, I had a little bit of help.” He replied, glad, and a bit surprised, to see you were one of the helpers.
“Well, you're about to get some more help.” You said, glancing at his name tag. “Sy.”
He felt a lump lodge in his throat as you said his name. “That's great.” He rasped back. “I'm going to need it. These hands have only known how to do one thing, for the last twenty years.” He told you, holding up his calloused mitts.
“Oh, you got good hands for clay shaping.” You said, taking one of them in both of yours. “I'm sure we can teach these pups a new trick or two.”
“Can you teach this ol' pup any?” Sy asked, smiling at you.
“I might.” You nodded, pulling a stool up beside him. “Let's listen to Mini first, then we can find out what you want to make that clay into.” You told him, giving him an encouraging smile, that cracked open the door to a place he had tried to keep shut.
“Everyone have their partner?” Mini asked, looking around, then nodded. “Good! Now, you're going to learn your proper posture for molding.” She began, leaning forward and started her instruction for the next several minutes.
“Christ, I don't know if I can remember all that.” Sy said, blowing out a breath and shaking his head at his mound of clay. “I'm just a simple country boy, fresh out of the Army.”
You giggled beside him, lightly patting him on the back. “That's why you got me.” You reminded him, sweetly. “Now, what do you want to make? And, I swear if you say a dildo, I will get up and leave.” You warned him, seriously.
“Have people actually asked you that?” He frowned, cocking his head at you.
“Yes, more often than you might think.” You huffed, shaking your head. “I'll make anything else though.”
“To be honest with you,” Sy started, frowning down at the clay and shaking his head. “I don't know what to make. I've never been the artistic type. I always failed art class back in school.”
“Well, that's the wonder of art, and clay for that matter, Sy.” You told him, softly. “You can make whatever you want. You don't need to be artsy for it. What's the first thing that comes to your mind? Anything at all.”
“My dog.” He blurted out, biting his lip, feeling silly for it.
“All right, what about a dog bowl?” You suggested, tossing out the first dog related thing that came to your mind.
“Could we make a bowl?” Sy asked, looking over at you.
“Absolutely!” You nodded, grinning. “If you wanna make a bowl for your doggo, then we'll make one. I'll use all ten years of my clay making experience to help.”
“All right, a bowl for Aika, it is.” Sy nodded back, inspired.
“That's a sweet name.” You commented, watching Sy position himself, much as Mini instructed, then drizzle a little bit of water onto the clay and cup it in his large hands, almost hiding it completely in his palms as he started to work the wheel with his foot. “Good, that's a great speed. Keep it up. Little less pressure though.” You reminded him, watching the clay start to pancake a bit.
“Sorry.” He apologized, letting off on it.
“You're all right.” You answered, shaking your head. “So, what made you try out pottery?” You asked, reaching out, instinctively, to add a little more water.
Sy was quiet for a long moment, playing with and shaping his clay, watching the thick residue from it cover his fingers and palms. While trying to find a way to answer. He could give you the same answer he'd given the pink tracksuit lady or he could be honest. Spying you from the corner of his eye, he noticed you weren't waiting for a reply, not being pushy or intrusive. You had simply asked him the question and given him the space to answer it, when and if he wanted to with no hard feelings.
It was a breath of fresh air to him, just like feeling the wet clay in his hands. Knowing he was creating something, not harming it.
“I was hoping it would help me,” He finally answered you, licking his lips, deciding to be honest. “With my combat PTSD.” He added softer, waiting for your reaction.
“It can be quite calming.” You admitted, no ill reaction on your face. “It can also be rather frustrating.” You chuckled, with a smirk. “I about tossed the piece I was working on this morning, when one of the sides collapsed on me. I'd only been working on it for six hours.”
“Six hours!” Sy exclaimed, sitting back to look at you more steadily.
“You suffer for the art sometimes.” You told him, with amusement at his expression. “But, it's well worth it in the end. Most of the time, at least.”
“Christ, I hope this doesn't take that long.” He said, looking down at the weirdly shaped, almost oblong bit of clay on his wheel.
You looked around the room, before leaning close to Sy. “I think you're wonderful, Oda Mae.” You whispered into his ear, so none of your friends could hear you, knowing the complaints they'd give you for the reference after the class.
A huge smile crossed Sy's face and he howled with laughter, catching everyone's attention.
“I crack a good joke, we all know it!” You told them, grinning with guilt.
“I like you.” Sy said, once everyone's attention went back to their own station. “You're the first person that's made me laugh, like that, since I came home on retirement from the Army. A year ago.”
“Oh yeah?” You grinned, feeling a hot rush through your body that wasn't the glass of wine you had earlier. “Well, if you think I can crack a good joke, you'll see how good of a pottery teacher I am.”
“You take any students?” Sy blurted out, before he knew what he was thinking.
You floundered, mouth hanging open. “Um, no.” You admitted, shocked he'd asked, then saw the light start to fade in his blue eyes. “But I could consider it.” You said, quickly. “Especially if it helps you cope with your PTSD.”
“I think it just might.” He proclaimed, finding himself smitten with both pottery and you.
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You laughed, throwing up your arm as Sy flicked the wet clay on his fingers at you. “Austin!” You tried to duck the mucky droplets as they splattered all over your apron, the side of your arm, face and hair, still giggling.
“You were looking a bit dry over there!” He guffawed, grinning at you. “What the heck, are you shapin', anyhow?” He asked, balancing himself back on his stool and eyeing your kaolin clay, seeing the strange, cup-like shape you had going.
“I don't really know.” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders at the grayish-yellow clay before you. “I'm just trying to understand it, and make something. That will hopefully not crack in the kiln. If I ever get around to firing it.” You told him, leaning forward again, feeling the soreness in your lower spine and forearms from working in that position for so long. “What about you?” You asked, cocking a brow at Sy, without looking away from what you were starting to consider your Frankenstein.
“Another ceramic grenade cup.” You smirked, curving your thumb into the center of the clay. “Or, what was that tea pot you made?” You asked, giggling as you recalled pulling the craft out of the kiln.
“I don't want to talk about it.” Sy replied, sounding disgruntled.
You laughed, nodding your head. “That's right, it was supposed to be a turt—Austin!” You shrieked, as his big, wet clay covered mitt swiped across your face. “Oh my god!”
“It was nothing, woman.” He huffed at you, with mischievous eyes, as he sat back down. “But I do have a question for you, babe.”
“Oh?” You replied, standing up to wipe the streak off your face before it dried.
“I was thinking,” He paused for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip as he continued to work his clay. “I still have a large chunk of my retirement payment from the Army, just sitting in my bank account.” He said, scowling as one side of the clay started to collapse.
“All right.” You nodded, staring down at him, as you stood between your two pottery wheels in the garage of Sy's house, situated on the ten acres he owned.
“I've been considering,” He licked his lips and sat back, to look up at you, wanting to see your face when he said aloud what had been on his mind for the last year and a half. “I want to open up my own shop.”
You blinked at him a couple times, processing his words. “Your own pottery shop?” You asked for clarification.
“Yeah, I want to open a pottery barn, to help Vets, like myself. Hell, to help anyone with PTSD or trauma. It helped me through so many nights of episodes and flashbacks.” He explained to you, babbling out the idea that had been swirling around him, and looked back up. “You helped me.” He whispered quietly, before shaking his head and squeezing the clay on his wheel.
“It's a stupid idea.”
Watching him destroy the piece he'd just spent the last hour and a half working on, stung you, but it hurt you more to hear him say his idea was stupid. You thought it was incredible. That it was so thoughtful and sweet of him to want to share a hobby that had given him so much in the last two years.
You were flattered to be a part of that journey with him, as well.
Your big bear.
“I think it's a terribly-” You sat down in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “good idea, Austin Syverson.” You declared, kissing him lovingly. “And if I hear anyone say otherwise, I'll pelt them with wet clay, until they think it is.”
A bright smile pulled across Sy's face as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “So, you'll come be my first employee?” He asked, nosing the side of your neck, smelling your perfume mixed with the earthy scents of pottery, tinged with a light sheen of sweat from how warm it was in the garage.
“Oh, I'm going to work for you, am I?” You cooed, amused. “What position, do I get?”
“Hmm.” He hummed, pressing his lips to your skin. “How about the head of pottery?”
“What's your job going to be?” You asked, eyes fluttering shut.
“I'm the boss.” He chuckled, tugging on your ear. “I'll have a bunch of jobs. But there's no one I trust more than you, with all your infinite wisdom of pottery, to run that area.” He told you, his hands pushing under your tank top. “I do only have two years of experience, compared to your thirteen.”
“Oh, laying it on thicker than a glaze, Captain.” You purred, feeling his fingers leave trails of drying clay on the skin of your back. “But I do like the sound of it. Do I get to boss you around during classes?” You asked, cupping the back of his head in your palm and rubbing the short hair there with your thumb, while your other hand dripped to the strings of his camouflage apron.
Sy smirked, giving your neck a sharp bite and making you gasp. “You boss me around already.”
“I do not!” You huffed, with an amused flash in your eyes, pushing his head back to look up at you.
“Whatever you say, my darling.” He replied, blue eyes sparkling.
“That's what I thought.” You smirked, kissing the bridge of his nose.
Pulling his hands from your tank top and gripping you by the hips, Sy pushed you up and pulled your legs across his lap, so you straddled him. You moaned at the straining bulge in his black sweatpants, pressing down against it through your short-shorts, sucking lightly on your bottom lip.
“What are we calling your little pottery business?” You hummed, reaching between your bodies to slip into the waistband of his sweats, finding his thick manhood and gliding your hand along it, drawing out a shivering sigh out from him.
“I don't know.” He rasped, clawing at your hips and the band of your shorts, leaving red marks in their wake. “Maybe, Sy's Therapy Barn or something.” He puffed, losing focus on the idea of running a business and growing more interested in tearing your shorts and underwear off.
“I like it.” You nodded, slipping off his lap, smiling at his hands grabbing to bring you back, but stood and took your shorts and panties off, before straddling his thick thighs again. “Rolls of the tongue and easy to remember.” You told him, taking his burning shaft in your hand, stroking him firmly as you guided him towards your glistening entrance.
“Mmhm.” Sy mumbled, his mouth latching onto your collarbone. “Whatever you say, babe.”
You chuckled, caressing your free hand over his head and gripped his shoulder, using it as leverage to sink down onto him, with a soft sigh and leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.
“I love you, Syverson.”
“Ditto.” He rumbled back, wrapping his arms around you and locking you against him.
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“Welcome to Sy's Therapy Barn!” You grinned as a man came through the door, the bell above it chiming through the building, his ripped muscles making the fabric of his Under Armor shirt scream, his tattooed arms showing below the short sleeves. “Are you here for the classes or to look about?” You asked, motioning around the grand shop with beaming pride.
You and Sy had found a thousand square foot warehouse, filling it with all your pottery and therapy needs and dreams. Sy had even decided to go to school and become a licensed therapist, allowing him to help the people coming into the Therapy Barn better. While they got their hands cupped around the little mounds of clay, during your classes, so they could shape it into whatever their minds wanted or needed.
Part of the warehouse was set up with kilns of all sizes and kinds, tall and wide shelves to hold pour molds and drying creations. While another section was where you and Sy held the classes for the therapy groups, either for former or active Combat Service people or, those who Sy referred to as Regulars, members of the public who hadn't served. All of them there to try and remedy their PTSD, trauma, depression, loss, domestic violence or anything else along those lines.
People that didn't require therapy were also welcome, of course.
But the two of you catered to those in need specifically, and so far, business was booming. Sy had gone to the several local Veteran Centers in the Dallas area with fliers promoting the business's program, as well as the VFW Canteens and posting on the internet. Even calling some of his old comrades. Sy had been worried and a bit skeptical with your first pottery class, sure that no one was going to show up to it. However, when the time rolled around, the bell above the front door started dinging with customers, most of them were middle aged or elderly, but there were several your and Sy's age, looking apprehensive.
It made you smile to see that look on their face, it was the exact expression you'd seen on Sy's face, that night you met in the parking lot of Mini's Pottery Barn, before he discovered the magic of forming clay. You always looked forward to seeing it change into the wonder of how amazing it is, to see your brave Captain use his fresh Bachelor's Degree to help them work through the same struggles he had. The struggles you had woken up at one or two in the morning, to find Sy in the garage, in nothing, but the shorts he'd gone to bed in, hunched over his pottery wheel, his muscles tight and teeth gritted, but his hands cupped gently around the piece of clay he was working. Trying to chase away whatever he had been awoken by.
“I'm here for the class, with Dr. Syverson.” He replied, looking around uneasily, like he expected a bomb to go off in one of the teapots you'd crafted and had on sale in the front window of the shop.
“That's great!” You grinned at him, trying to be open and encouraging towards him. “The class will start in ten minutes. You can either take a seat or have a look around. There's coffee, tea and water on the table with some cupcakes and snicker-doodle cookies, so help yourself.”
“No booze.” He mumbled, eyeing the table.
“No,” You answered, giving him an emphatic look. “Some of our potter's are recovering and sober, so we don't offer it.” You explained to him, glancing over at one of your regulars with a nod. “To repress the urge to relapse.”
He looked at you for a moment. “That's—actually, very thoughtful of you.” He said, blinking as it came over him.
“We do our best.” Sy said, appearing from the back. “Pleasure to meet ya.” He offered his hand to the other man. “Captain Syverson, 1st battalion, 3rd SFG(a). Also Dr. Austin Syverson, the co-owner of this here Therapy Barn.” He introduced himself, always giving his classifications to the Vets, knowing how at ease it made them and started that thread of a bond with him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Captain.” He replied, shaking Sy's hand. “Lieutenant Daniel Burton, 3rd recon battalion, for the Marines.”
“Well, it's good to meet you, Lieutenant.” Sy nodded, then smiled over at you, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back. “I'm sure my fiancee has given you the introduction to our business.”
“That she has.” Daniel nodded, giving you a kind smile. “Though, I'll admit, I'm a little apprehensive as to how this is going to help me get straightened out. I watched some videos on pottery on Youtube and it just doesn't seem like much.”
You and Sy looked at each other, a smile and knowing look on each other's faces.
“It seems that way. I thought the same thing, myself, at first.” Sy confessed, a winking at you. “But, all you have to do is take all your emotions. All your pain, all your love, all your passion and all your rage and work it into that bit of clay we give you on that pottery wheel and the rest comes with it.”
You looked at Sy, it had become a thing between the two of you, and in doing so, that line had become his motto. It had become part of the business's motto, and few people actually caught the reference. But that was all right. The two of you still got through to people in the end. Saving them from their dark past through horrible movie quotes, a man that took a chance on a hobby and your skill with moving clay, sculpting a life and a business out of it.
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peyton-warren · 2 years ago
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Syverson and 🛎?
You know of all people I can't say no to Sy, ever. Who would. And waiting on him hand and foot... hmmmm. Got a bit angsty but there is potential smut coming in another part in the future.
Three-Jump Cowboy
Characters: Gender Neutral Reader, Captain Syverson Pairings: Reader X Captain Syverson Fandoms: Sandcastle, Henry Cavill characters Word count: 1400 Type: angsty, fluffy. Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. Injury, surgery, hospitals, no blood, vague description of accident, and a teeny tiny mention of spanking Summary: Reader waiting on Sy hand and foot. Author's Note: Blame @ronearoundblindly, I do. She sent me ask from this as game if you would like to play too. Thank you to @adulting-sucks for the beta. And thank you to @sarahdonald87 for the injury idea. Ask Box: Open Masterlist
“Sugar,” Sy exasperatedly stated.   If you thought too hard about it , his tone would almost seem like a whine.  You just smiled softly at him as you set the tray of food across his lap where he was sitting up in the guest bed.  “I coulda come to the table, I told you that.”   
“Doc said you are to stay here unless you absolutely have to move.  Eating can be done here,” you assured him as he reached for the silverware.   “I’ll let you cut your own meat up,” you teased.  “Let you keep your masculinity intact.”
You hid your smirk from him as he scowled menacingly at your comment.  You knew keeping James Syverson in bed was going to be an issue from the second the doctor told you both that his femur was broken and would require an extended period of time in bed.  James wasn’t used to being stationary, and you weren’t used to him being dependent on anyone but himself.  This was going to be a trial for both of you and likely your relatively newish relationship.  
You had only been together a few months when you got the call from the base that he had been in a training accident.  You didn’t even know he had put you down as his emergency contact, but you had quickly headed to his bedside, scared at what you would find there.  The nurse on the phone had not been overly loquacious with the details. 
The woman at the information desk told you how to find where his room was going to be, that he was in surgery and who you should talk to once you got there.  The nurses on the floor were kind but busy, telling you they’d let you know if they heard anything and then gestured to the corner room where you should wait.  
You did as you were bade and sat in the uncomfortable chair beside the neatly made institutional looking bed.  Your mind whirled at what his injury was, who else you should call.  He mentioned his mom somewhere back home, why was she or his brother living in Michigan not on his emergency contact list?   How would you get a hold of them if something else happened to him?   
Your heart lept at the sound knuckles on the door.  Your eyes refocused on the woman dressed in scrubs standing in the open doorway.  “Just wanted to let you know he did well, just needs to rest and heal now.  He’s in recovery and will be brought down in a bit.  I’ll be back once he’s settled and awake to talk to you both about next steps.”
“Thank you,” you barely squeaked out with a nod.  It escaped you to ask what his injury was until after she was gone.  By then she was probably long gone, moved onto another patient who needed her. 
 You heard the sound of wheels and a few pairs of feet approaching a little while layer.   As predicted, your beast of a boyfriend was rolled into the hospital room, eyes open but glazed, his normal sober face lit up like a child’s as he noticed you.  “You came?” Sy asked gleefully, as if you were on a date instead of sitting in his hospital room.  
“Of course I did, Sy,” you said softly as he tried to sit up in the gurney.   The  man at the head of the bed placed a hand on his shoulder.  He was almost as big as Sy, his rust colored beard, hair pulled back into an elastic at the back of his head.  “You need to stay still, sir, just a few more moments.”
“But-“ Sy tried to protest, gesturing to you.  
“We are blocking their escape,” the other orderly joked.  
You smiled at them all, and stayed seated as they managed to transfer Sy from one bed to the other.  When they pulled back the sheet to move him, you noticed the new cast running from his calf to his hip on his left leg. 
“Oh shit,” you whispered, your sight trained on his leg.  
“Ain’t nothing,” drugged Sy confessed.  “I’ll be up chasing you before you know it,” he said teasingly, reaching a hand to your knee, squeezing, his fingertips pressing harder into your inner thigh, making your legs close right around them.    
When the doctor returned a few hours later, Sy and you learned his injury was far from nothing.  He had landed wrong on a routine training jump.   His ‘chute had fully deployed but something had happened to the rigging, preventing him from decelerating his speed, the brunt of which ran up his left leg upon contact with the ground, breaking his femur.  The puckered brow on his face told you he struggled to remember much of it, but the doctors assured you both that it was the pain meds talking.   
“Six months??” Sy sternly asked a few moments later.  “I have to be in bed for 6 months? Are you-“ 
You laid your hand on his forearm, sliding your smaller fingers down to curl between his, silencing him.  “When can I take him home?” you switched tactics, trying to keep him calm, and focusing on the next few steps.  
A few days later, Sy was delivered to his own home in town by ambulance.  There was no way he was going to fit in your tiny car nor be able to get into his truck with a full leg cast.  By the time the paramedics brought him home, you had worked with a local in-home care service and set up the guest bedroom on the main floor of his home to fit his new needs.  
He was grumpy but complicit as he was carried on the gurney into his home.  He was agitated, looking exactly like a caged animal, clutching his jaw, eyes flicking around at the EMTs, at his home, at you.   They softened just a touch at the sight of you standing off to the side, dressed in one of his beat up old button-ups, sleeves rolled up to your elbows, leggings and old boots you had stashed at his house to help around the yard.  You hadn’t really been back to your own apartment since you got the call from the hospital at work 4 days previous.  You did a drive by to grab some essentials the first morning after his accident and then had set up in his home (with his consent) to get everything ready and settled for his arrival.  
Catching him looking at you as you stood off to the side out of the way of the two paramedics doing their jobs, but yet still hovering like the protective mother hen you suddenly felt like, you gave Sy a soft smile, happy to have him back in his home where maybe he could relax and let himself heal and  recover.  
It was later that evening when you brought him his dinner on the wooden tray, a steak, mashed potatoes and creamed spinach, one of the meals you made for him when you first started dating.  Only thing new was the side of painkillers and post op antibiotics that were waiting for his belly to have some food as a buffer.
As Sy looked at the tray in front of him, he softly, ruefully sighed and you pecked his forehead, rising to leave.  “Sugar,” he said quickly, but quietly, his hand wrapping viper fast around your wrist, stopping you, surprising you a bit. 
“Yes?” You looked from his hand to his face, seeing the man struggle with the words he was trying to share.  
“Thank you,” he sincerely stated, his crystal eyes clear and possibly sparkling.   “For all this.” He gestures around the room, the bed, the dreaded walker, the other equipment, as well as the food in front of him.  “You didn’t-“
“I know,” you assured him.  “But I wanted to.   I’d like to think you’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed.”
James nodded and smiled a little wider, the dimple you adored making a rare appearance even through all of his beard.  “I woulda.  After I finished spankin' you for jumpin’ out of a perfectly good plane.”  
You both laughed for the first time in almost a week. This was going to be a long journey, but together you were gonna make it to the other side.  
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