#captain syverson x reader

[eccentricallygothic]

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… 

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—

[littlefreya]

Pictures of You

Summary: While Sy is deployed, his new girlfriend sends him nudes, and now he must take care of 'business' himself while fantasizing about the things he would do to her.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x himself x OFC

Word count: 1,200

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), pure smut, graphic depiction of sex (male x female), male masturbation, bodily fluids, accidental creampie, dirty language, punishment, Freya using "peach". Being caught in the act. A bit of fluff. Not beta'd.

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

A/N: It's been a while since I posted. I am working on a series (plural), but I got inspired by a lovely anon today. I'm not sure if I'm tagging anyone since my tag list is probably outdated and I'm not sure who still wants on. So, if you enjoyed, reblog, or comment, let me know. I'd appreciate it. 🖤

Pictures of You

At last, night unfurled, and the camp became quiet. 

The glorified Captain retired to his quarters, exhausted from a day of training recruits and tedious paperwork. This deployment would be long, and though he loved being The Captain - Logan Syverson was beginning to miss home.

It was all because of her. Sy shouldn't have caught feelings, long-distance relationships were never his thing, but damn, she was something else; a woman way above his league, pretty, hot as hell and way too smart to be with a military grunt like him.

Needless to say, fucking her made him feel like a god. 

Stripping down to his boxer, Sy slumped into his bed with a huff and reached for the private cell phone stuffed in his drawer. 

Twenty unanswered messages appeared on the screen—three of them from her.

Joy painted his face at the sight of her name. Ignoring everything else, he went directly to read her messages.

“Missing my big Sy”, the first message read. 

The other - “something to make you think of me.”  

The last message was simply an attachment. Curious, Sy tapped it open.

‘Fucking hell.’

The unmistakable pang of desire instantly surged through his groin. 

There she was, his sweet woman, naked and spread open like a present unwrapped, especially for him. She was sitting on her bed, one breast gripped by her palm with her nipple peeking through dark-painted nails while her other hand toyed with the sweet peach between her thighs. 

“Fuck,” Sy muttered. Already rock-hard. Absentmindedly, his hand massaged the hefty bulge through the fabric of his boxers, eliciting a deep groan from under his breath. 

‘What are you doing to me, babygirl?” 

It wasn’t just her naked body and the way her finger teased her own slit, but the look she gave him, the familiar neediness in her gaze, the way she bit her lip. 

Damn, if she was here right now… He’d fucking punish her for teasing him so bad! He’d pin her to the wall with his hand around her throat and show her what happens to naughty girls who like playing such wicked games. 

Now he had three fucking months to go, and all he could think of was how bad he wanted to be inside her tight little cunt.

‘Well, guess I’ll have to take care of this myself…’

Springing his cock free from his boxers, he ran his rough fingers up and down the length of his imposing shaft - slow at first, as Sy enjoyed taking his time, just as he would with her. His thumb rolled across the crown of his cock, gently grazing the tip while he imagined flipping her against the pitted wall in this room. Make her take it from behind so he could look at that perfect rounded ass of hers and watch his cock slipping in and out of her body. 

Still holding the photo open, he focused on her succulent cunt before spitting onto his open palm and griping himself once again. Tighter this time, he squeezed onto his girth and began to fuck his own hand. 

Pants and groans sputtered from his mouth, his chest heaving as he gradually picked up the pace. In his fantasy, he parted her ass cheeks and teased her dripping little hole until she begged him to fuck him. Then he forced himself all the way in, making her cry out. 

The sounds of her moans echoed in his memory, so helpless and desperate at the same time - he was nearly too much for her; that narrow cavern of hers could barely take his leviathan cock, but still, she took every pounding, becoming wetter around his shaft as her body not only yielded to accommodate him but lured him deeper inside. 

“I want inside you, babygirl…” Sy mumbled out loud, his hand now moving in ecstatic fervour. Sweat dripped down the contracting muscles of his abs. Soon, he felt himself swell even larger, and his sack strained with the desperate need for release. 

He tightened his grip, now choking his shaft and thinking of how it felt when she came around him. How she contracted all around his cock and shattered like glass smashing on the floor.

“Don’t come inside….” She’d warned him. She wasn’t on the pill. But this time, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from filling her full of his cum, and maybe… he wouldn’t want to… 

It was his fantasy, after all. 

“FUCK!!!” 

With the image spilling inside her, he allowed himself to be swept by the fierce waves of pleasure, his entire body buzzing with bliss as hot, thick ribbons of ecstasy spilt over his fingers. He might have shouted too loudly, but it’s not like he ever gave a fuck. 

It took Sy a few good minutes to climb down to earth, and then he chuckled hoarsely as he noticed the mess he had left on his hand. Shaking his head, he reached for a towel and wiped himself clean before returning to gaze at her photo. 

“What am I gonna do with you, doll?”

Well, there was an idea. He could repay the favour by sending her a photo of himself. Usually, he was against this type of stuff, but what she did was particularly risky for a woman, and if she was bold enough to treat him, he could do the same. Besides, they had three months until they could meet again. He better make sure she remembered who she belonged to.  

He stroked himself lightly. Still semi-hard, he wondered whether he could work himself to another erection this soon when a knock sounded at the door.

“Mother of f…. One moment !!!” 

Sy yelled. Irritated, he briefly tucked his shaft back in his boxers and jumped out of bed. The room smelled rancid, but Sy couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t even bring himself to put on a shirt as he rushed to the door.

“What?” He grunted before getting to see who was on the other side.

‘Well, fuck me sideways.’

It was a woman because why the hell not? Private Hicks, to be precise. The young thing’s eyes flared with surprise and then snapped to the floor to avoid staring at her sweaty, half-naked superior, but not before catching a glance of his hairy, tattooed chest and the semi-erected bulge in his groin.

The strong scent of sweat and sex hit her nostrils like a smack in the face. It took everything not to curl her face. There was no need to put two and two together to realise what she had just intruded. 

“Sir.” Hicks saluted in badly hidden embarrassment. 

Sy let out a deep sigh. Clearly, she knew what he was doing before she arrived. She probably heard him come all over himself right before knocking. Frankly, he wasn’t ashamed. 

“Get on with it, Private.”

“Sir,” she repeated, her voice a slight tremble. “ I’m sorry to bother you… but the Major asked me to get you.” 

Sy scratched the back of his head and groaned deeply. “Tell him I’ll be there in 10.” 

Without any other comment, he shut the door, leaving Hicks to wander back to the Major’s office, all shaken and quaking. 

As she walked away, she couldn’t help but bite her lips. All across her body, she felt those little electric streams of excitement, and her breath suddenly became shallow. She shouldn’t have thought of her superior like this, on what he did behind that closed door just a moment before she arrived, but Captain Syverson was too hot to handle and, needless to say, too loud. 

Well, she’d have to take care of herself later…

[gummydummy19]

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)

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.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: thank you for reading!!! Wanna read more of my Sy fics? Check out my ongoing series 'A year in apartment 6B" !!!

Taglist;

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[witchywithwhiskey]

Hi Molly<3

How about captain Syverson and

“be still” - “i can’t” - “yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?”

morning cuddling with the love of your life

pairing: boyfriend!captain syverson x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, morning sex, fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, pet names (bunny), morning cuddles, established relationship taken to the next couple levels 👀

word count: 1,800ish

a/n: ahhh thank you so much for sending in this prompt—and for requesting my second favorite captain!! this one is just pure smut with a very fluffy ending, i hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

The sunny spring morning began, as all your mornings had since you’d started dating Captain Syverson, with some sleepy cuddling. You’d only been dating a few months, and he hadn’t moved in yet, but Sy always seemed to end up in your bed—even the nights he worked late—and you enjoyed him being there. You loved falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his warm comfort too much to say anything about it.

That morning, the sun was shining through your bedroom windows and casting a yellow glow over everything. But it was chilly beyond your blankets, the spring day not having yet been warmed by the sun, and you were happy to stay in bed. You were still half-asleep when your fingers started searching for Sy’s broad, warm body, pulling yourself closer once you found him, humming happily when he wrapped his thick, beefy arms around you. 

You sighed contentedly with your face buried in his chest, your body settling into his comforting embrace as you breathed in the woodsy, familiar scent of his skin. The hair dusting across his burly chest tickled your cheeks pleasantly and you shifted closer, hitching your bare thigh over his hip. Because you wore only one of Sy’s t-shirts, your uncovered core pressed to the soft cotton of Sy’s boxers, and you felt his bulge twitch against your warmth.

A little shiver raced down your spine, but you were still too sleepy to do anything about the length hardening between your thighs. Besides, Sy didn’t seem inclined to take things further yet either, as he rumbled a deep snore.

The both of you dozed for a little while, until a deep, reverberating groan in Sy’s chest roused you again. It was only then that you discovered your hips were rocking gently against your boyfriend’s cock, stirring up a heat that crashed through your body as soon as you became aware. A soft gasp left your lips, and Sy groaned louder, knowing you were awake.

“Ya gotta stop, or ‘m not gonna be able to let ya sleep anymore, bunny,” Sy rumbled, his voice far too warm with sleepy pleasure to sound the least bit warning. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his beard tickling your skin, and you smiled into his chest, enjoying the heat curling deliciously through your body.

Stretching up, you reached blindly for Sy’s mouth, your eyes still closed and, after some fumbling, managed to kiss your boyfriend good morning. His arms squeezed you tightly as you kissed lazily, knowing you had all the time in the world to spend the morning in bed together.

“Maybe I’m done sleeping, daddy,” you murmured against his mouth when you broke the kiss. You rolled your body more purposefully, grinding your naked pussy against the bulge in Sy’s boxers and delighted in his grunt of pleasure. “Maybe I wanna feel you stuff that big cock of yours deep in my needy pussy.” 

Sy rumbled a chastising sound. “Christ, the mouth ya got on ya, bunny,” he muttered. Still, he slid his big hand down between your bodies, cupping your pussy possessively and thrusting two fingers inside to test your readiness. You were wet and slick for him, and he dragged a moan from your lips while he fucked you. His tone managed some menace as he growled, “Maybe I should shove my cock into that filthy mouth of yours and show you what dirty girls get for rilin’ up their daddies.” 

“Nooo, please,” you begged, pouting up at him and fluttering your lashes in the way that had Sy’s cock twitching against your thigh, his precum leaking onto your soft skin. “I’m already so wet for you, daddy, would you really deny me when my tight little hole is dripping and begging for you?” 

With a tortured groan, Sy rolled you onto your back, his hips settling between your thighs and pushing you open wide with his broad body. Pulling his fingers from your pussy, he slipped them into your mouth, and you eagerly sucked your own arousal from his skin. 

“Good girl,” he rumbled, the hint of a smile curving his mouth. 

While you were busy cleaning his fingers, Sy shoved his boxers down and lined up his cock with your entrance. He smacked your messy folds with the heavy head of his cock, watching as your eyes went heavy lidded and you moaned around his fingers. He removed them from your mouth and grinned when you let out a desperate whine. 

“Daddy, please,” you begged on a gasp, writhing beneath your boyfriend’s broad form.

Thankfully, Sy wasn’t interested in any more teasing and he pushed into your needy, aching hole. Your back arched up off the bed and you let out a sharp cry, enjoying the feeling of his thick cock stretching out your tight cunt. No matter how many times he fucked you, it always felt like Sy was pressing the air from your lungs and rearranging your insides to make room to accomodate his fat cock.

“Feel so fucking good, bunny,” Sy groaned when he was buried inside you, his balls pressing against your ass. For a long moment, he stayed there, his eyes closing like he was savoring the tight warmth of your body. “Christ, I could live in your cunt—ya feel like you were made for me.”

He was so big and hard and hot inside you that you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, your knees climbing his sides so he could push even deeper into your cunt. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix and you moaned loudly, your inner walls gripping his hard length like your body wanted to suck him even deeper. You were practically folded in half beneath the beefy body of your boyfriend, but it wasn’t enough, you needed him to move, to fuck you—to empty his balls into you and fill you up with his seed.

“Be still.” The words were little more than an unintelligible growl from your Sy’s mouth. 

You whimpered, your hips rocking up against him, fucking yourself on his cock ever so slightly. Even if you wanted to stop, you didn’t think it was possible—not when you needed him so badly. “I can’t.” 

“Yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?” Sy’s hand gripped your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “If you don’t stop, I’m not going to be able to hold back,” he warned, his face grim with barely leashed desire. “I’m gonna flood your unprotected pussy with my come and I’m gonna knock you up—is that what you want?”

Even if you’d wanted to lie and tell him it wasn’t at all what you wanted, your body answered Sy’s question for you, your cunt squeezing his cock even harder, like you were wordlessly begging him to put a baby in your belly. But you knew your boyfriend would never do anything if you didn’t say the words, so you forced your mind to focus through the pleasure and delirious need to get the words out. 

“I want it, daddy,” you admitted on a whimper, crying out when Sy pulled back, only to surge forward and make your whole body shake with the force of his thrust. With your confession out in the open between you, it seemed to loosen your tongue and a flood of words fell from your lips. “I want you to knock me up, I want you to put a baby in me—your baby, Sy—I want you to make me a mommy, please, daddy!” 

“Jesus christ, bunny,” Sy ground out as he pounded into you, his hips slapping against your thighs while he thrust deep into your cunt. “Ya want daddy to breed you—ya wanna be daddy’s good little breeding bunny, huh?” 

“Yes, yes yes,” you cried, gripping Sy’s broad shoulders, your cunt squeezing his cock. You were so close. “Breed me, daddy—Sy, please—please!” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, pausing to reposition his hips. Then he was grinding against your clit with every brutal thrust into your cunt and it wasn’t long before you screamed your release. Your whole body clenched tight, making Sy groan like he was in pain as your pussy gripped his cock so hard, his release quickly followed yours. 

Sy captured your lips in a messy kiss, his beard burning your cheeks and chin as hips stilled. You felt his cock twitch deep in your fluttering cunt, and the rush of his come overflowing your pussy, dripping down your ass. You shivered and moaned into Sy’s mouth, your hands clinging to his shoulders and neck while your bodies came together in the most primal way possible.

When you were finally sated and the last of his come had been wrung from his cock, Sy rolled over onto his back, taking you with him. Your bodies were still connected, the evidence of your releases making a mess of the both of you. You sighed contentedly and snuggled into Sy’s chest, a happy smile on your face.

“I s’pose I should officially move in, huh?” Sy asked, a bit of playfulness seeping into his deep, satisfied drawl. 

“You better,” you muttered, putting a little poutiness into the words, which made Sy chuckle. Pushing yourself up, you gave Sy a kiss before pulling away and shooting him a stern look. “Then you might wanna start thinking about putting a ring on my finger,” you said pointedly, arching one of your brows.

Sy grinned so wide, it made his beard twitch. Without looking away from you, he opened the bedside table drawer and pulled something out. You didn’t see what it was until you felt him slip something onto your left ring finger. With a gasp, you finally looked away to see the pretty engagement ring he’d just put on you.

“Way ahead o’ ya, bunny,” he murmured, tipping your chin to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “Assuming it’s a yes, of course.”

You snorted. “Of course, it’s a yes,” you said, a giggle of joy in your tone. Then you kissed him again—and again and again and again. 

Eventually, you settled back down on Sy’s chest, unable to keep your eyes off the ring, turning your hand this way and that so you could admire the way it sparkled so prettily in the bright morning sunshine. Already, you were picturing a spring wedding—Sy would look so handsome in a suit beneath an arch of spring flowers…

Your head spun a little with how much your life had changed on that spring morning, but you couldn’t be happier. You were going to become Mrs. Syverson and start a family with your captain—but the best part was that you’d get to start every morning cuddling with the love of your life. 

And you couldn’t wait.

[ramp-it-up]

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

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Tenebrific

Warnings: non/dubcon, blood, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Tenebrific - causing gloom or darkness (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

**for this drabble, I have named Syverson Elijah as he does not seem to have a canon first name

The message was sent almost half an hour ago. You check the time again. Actually, it’s been longer than that. You swear, men have no concept of time. 

You sigh and put your phone on the side table. Your glass is empty. You really didn’t want to indulge in a second before Andy got there but alas, he is pushing your tolerance, in more ways than one. After the day you’ve had, you desperately need to unwind. 

You get up and the sheer layers of fabric tickle along your lower stomach. Ugh, you should just get out these ridiculous pajamas. Simple is better. He probably wouldn’t even notice the effort. It hardly matters. It’s just sex. 

You take your glass and clink it down on the kitchen counter. You pour some more merlot and swirl it as you consider the dark depths. You taste it and the bitterness stains your tongue. You should just reply and tell him not to bother. You’re tired of more than waiting. 

You spin and a knock sounds at the door. Too late. He’s there. You roll your eyes and set the glass on the granite once more. You sweep through into the entry way and steel yourself. You try to figure how you should proceed. You could get some steam off. It would do him well to be used and tossed back out into the night. 

You open the door, ready to reproach Andy for his delay but stop short. Your hand pauses midway into an accusatory point and you lower it slowly. You purse your lips as you swallow back your surprise. 

“Elijah,” you greet the bearded man, overly aware of your current exposed state. His eyes betray his notice of your limited attire. You can’t recall if you can see through and you’re too embarrassed to look down. 

You stare at your unexpected visitor. The implications of his unannounced appearance do not elude you. Not only do you wonder why he is there but how he knows where you live. 

“Doc,” his voice is grizzly as he rubs his buzzcut, “hey.” 

“Hello,” you respond tritely, “you are aware that it is after midnight, Elijah?” 

“Syverson,” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Doc, please...” 

You watch him warily as your unease rises. He’s in one of his moods. He’s walking the tightrope and one slip will send him plummeting. Of all your patience, he has shown the most progress yet the most concern. 

“We have an agreement. We use our names. Our real names, yes? You are not Captain Syverson here.” 

He sucks in a breath through his nose. His hand twitches at his side. The tick in his cheek and the restless sway in his stance unsettle you. He’s about to bubble over. You can’t let him go, as much as you want to tell him too. He’s in a dangerous state. 

 “Well, come in. I’ll make you some tea and we can talk,” you step back and open the door wider. 

“Thanks,” he accepts the invite and you wait for him to enter then shut the door. 

“Please, have a seat,” you gesture him into the front room. 

He all too easily accepts. He goes into your living room, boots still on, and drops onto the couch. You give him a clinging look then detach and proceed into the kitchen. You turn on the kettle and circle around through the other doorway.  

You come up at the other end of the sofa and slide your phone off the end table. You quickly send a message and hope it reaches your intended company. 

“So,” you put the phone down again and move to stand behind the arm chair, hoping to block out the whimsical pajamas. “Elijah, what brings you here tonight?” 

“Doc,” he fidgets and turns his head back and forth. “I...” he tilts his chin up and inhales again. “I’m struggling.” 

“And what brought this on? Was there some event?” You prompt gently. 

“Mmm, no... maybe...” he drones and drops his head into his hands. His elbows rest on his thighs as he shudders. “I did... something. I...” 

You notice then the split on his knuckle. Smaller cuts higher up his fingers, his skin is tinged around his nails. Is that blood? 

You glance over at your phone. 

“What did you do, Elijah?” You ask. “Did you hurt yourself?” 

He whimpers and shakes his head. He rocks and pulls a large hand away from his skull, only to box himself in the ear. He whines. 

“I didn’t want to. It happened fast.” He gulps in air and sits up slowly. “There was a noise. Like thunder. Then it all--” He claps and winces at the loud impact of his palms. 

“Right, well, let’s have the tea and we’ll talk about it,” you say calmly as you sidle out from behind the chair.  

You subtly reach for your phone as you brush against the table. He’s faster than you think. He puts his hand over yours and stops you. Before you can recoil, he latches on. You repress your alarm and look him in the face. His eyes are foggy. They don’t stay on your face. They slowly scale down your body. 

“Doc, you look nice,” he says. 

“Thank you, Elijah,” you bring your other hand to pat his. “That’s a very nice compliment. Let me go get the tea and a robe.” 

He doesn’t let go. He stands, keeping hold of you, stretching your arm over the table. He leans his head to one side as his gaze roves up and down your body. 

“You dressed up for me?” He rasps. 

“Now, Elijah, I wasn’t expecting you,” you say. “Please, let go so I can get dressed.” 

He breathes heavily. He grabs the table with his other hand and shoves it aside. Your phone and the lamp crash onto the floor, the latter bouncing over your foot. You gasp as he yanks you closer. 

“Elijah,” you say more firmly. “You’re scaring me. Remember our exercises. Let’s count and breathe--” 

“For me,” he pulls you against him, hooking his arm around you. 

“No,” you push on his chest, barely tamping down your panic. “Ten, breathe in-” 

“Stop,” he warns as he hugs you closer. He toys with your hand and angles it to kiss your knuckles. Your eyes snag again on his tortured skin. “I just wanna...” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence. His touch slides down your back and he gropes your ass. You squeal in surprise and slap his chest, “Captain Syverson,” you slip as you snarl through your teeth, “you quit this right now. Get off--” 

“Captain,” he repeats and nods. “Yes, you can call me captain.” 

He digs his nails through the flimsy shorts and pulls your arm over his shoulder. You try to pull away but he’s too strong. Your fear breaks through in a throttled whimper. 

“Elijah--” 

“Captain,” he corrects you and once more slings his arm around you. 

“You are being--” 

He encircles you entirely with his arm and bends his knees. He lifts you off your feet and swings you around. You kick out in shock and wrestle with him as he carries you around the room. He falls onto you, crushing you into the couch cushions. 

You wheeze as his weight knocks the wind out of you. He untangles his arm from under your and grabs your face. He turns your head straight as you grit your teeth. You slap his thick arm. You can smell his sweat and the iron of blood. 

“Elijah,” you whittle out, “please... let’s just talk...” 

The kettle quakes noisily from the kitchen as he keeps you pinned. You squirm but can barely move. He smothers you with his body. You feel how the cushions thin under both of you. 

He pushes his knees down and forces them between your legs. You whine and clasp onto his camo shirt. You puff out in short spurts, your ribs aching beneath him. 

“I’ll be nice, doc. I just wanna be nice,” he purrs and rubs his nose against yours. “Like you want me to. You told me... told me I can be good. I wanna be good for you.” 

“Eli--” you chuff out and your eyes sting. You’re not used to feel like this. To being powerless. 

The kettle clicks off.

He plants his elbow and keeps your head locked in his hand. With his other, he feels along your side and plays with the blousing of the shorts. He pinches the sheer fabric and growls. 

He slides his hand under you and reaches up to the elastic. He tugs the shorts down past your ass. You whine again as he digs his feet into the couch and lifts himself. He strips the shorts down your legs as you kick desperately. 

He feels along your pelvis and pets the trimmed hair along your vee. You twitch in horror as he hums and kneads the flesh of your thigh. You fight as hard as you can but he’s too strong. He drops onto you again as the shorts hang from your one ankle. 

“Elijah,” you beg. 

“Call me captain, doc,” he snarls. 

“You can’t-- my boyfriend is on his way--” 

“Shh, shh, shhhhhhh,” he hushes you. 

He scratches your naked thigh as he picks at his fly. You stare past him to the ceiling as your stomach knots and your breaths trap in your chest. You push on his thick arms. 

“N-n-no,” you croak out. 

He wiggles as he leans into you. His length presses against your triangle of curly hair and he shifts back. He prods at you as he blindly guides his tip down. You squeak and jab your nails into his rounded shoulders. He rubs his fingers along your cunt as he nudges his pulsing dick back to your entrance. 

You bend your legs, heels jabbing down into the couch, and try to push him off. It does nothing. He presses against your cunt and you open around him. You feel as if you’re tearing as he dips into you. You snarl into a shriek as he sheathes himself in your walls. 

You whimper and groan as he thrusts to his limit. You drag your nails down his cheek and clutch onto his beard, tugging as you roar. 

“Arggh! Get off!” You go to claw him again and he swats away your hand. 

He clasps onto your wrist, then the other as you thrash with that. He pins both above you and lifts himself. He rocks his hips as your legs slips over the edge of the couch. You scream as he keeps his motion steady, each pump straining you past your limit. Each intrusion is fiery and dry. As if he’s scraping your inside. 

His eyes fixate on the joining of your bodies as he puffs through his nose like a bull. His eyes are dark as he watches himself impale you over and over. Your tits bulge against the cups, falling out as he hammers you into the cushions, bouncing your body like it’s nothing. 

He ruts down into you with all his weight and force. You fear him breaking your bones as each tilt of his hips is harder than the last. Your lashes web with tears and you bite down into your lip. 

“Stop, please,” you babble, “my boyfriend--” 

He snaps his hips up and you cry out again. You push your head back and choke through the pain. He slams down, over and over and over. 

He lowers himself over you, resting his arms around yours as he squeezes your wrists until the ache. He presses a kiss to your cheek as you stare at the wall. You shake and spasm, giving into the futility. 

“He’s not coming...” he sneers as his motion slows to long but just as torturous strokes, “I... I made sure.” 

[hederasgarden]

Dad!Captain Syverson Headcanons

I was inspired to write about Captain Syverson as a dad by @augustsprincess beautiful illustration.

Warnings for some smutty talk at the beginning. 18+ only. Thanks to @ryebecca for looking this over.

I’m happy to tackle other HC characters as dads if there is interest. Send me an ask!

We all know Sy has a breeding kink a mile wide.

There’s nothing he loves more than coming inside you again and again and stuffing you full of him. He also likes to stay buried in you as long as possible to keep you plugged up. When he finally does pull out he’ll get between your legs and push his cum back inside with his fingers while he rubs your thigh with his other hand.

Even though you’re exhausted, there’s something about the sight of him looking up at you with that hungry glint in his eye that makes you ready to go again. When you lift your hips towards his face he smiles.

“That’s not how you make a baby, sweetheart,” he growls, climbing back on top of you again.

Once you’re pregnant, Sy’s over the moon and telling anyone he can. He brings home all the pregnancy books that night, spending his evenings pouring over them with a little frown on his face. He writes down a dozen or more questions for your first OB appointment. He definitely annoys the sonographer when you’re far along enough to see one, practically leaning over her shoulder to see the screen.

Sy researches baby items like he’s planning an military incursion. You never knew someone could have that many options about car seats and baby bottles.

When it comes to your growing belly and expanding cup size, he’s feral. He wants you all the time after the doctor promises him sex won’t hurt the baby. You don’t even have time to wonder if you’re getting too fat or frumpy because his hands are on you all the time and he’s heaping on the praise.

Also, if you thought he was protective before you haven’t seen anything yet. He becomes hyper-vigilant about you and his little cub, to the point it probably causes a few fights and makes you feel suffocated. You definitely have an emotional breakdown or two that he has zero idea how to handle. Defusing an IED is child’s play compared to navigating your emotional changes. That’s usually when he resorts to food and foot rubs.

Once the baby arrives he’s on it. You don’t even change a single diaper until your son is two months old. If you’re breastfeeding, Sy’s there with snacks and water. If you’re formula feeding, he’s got everything prepped and ready to go.

The best thing about Sy as a dad though? It’s the way he looks at his son. The sheer awe and love you see in his eyes as his big fingers trace the delicate lines of your newborn’s face. And the way he looks at you with so much pride, love, and devotion? Well, is it any wonder your son gets a little sister a year later?

[eloquentlytired]

18+mdni

— full.

pairing: biker!syverson x fem reader

word count: 4k

warnings: semi public sex, raw, breeding, dirty talk

author's note: wanted to pair it w the gif but it got flagged 🥲 I used an ss of it in the edit (3d icon). it's from a movie called Lorelei and the character reminds me of sy!

you're not invisible but sometimes you're just there. your girlfriends are giggling about things you don’t relate to — about boyfriends. about sex. you suck on your straw, although your milkshake is by far gone, because you're too deep in thought to realize it.

there's silence and then you realize the waiter is standing before you. did they order something else? you release the straw with a faint pop when you realize he's looking at you and suddenly there's another milkshake on the table like the one you had finished drinking moments ago. “he said uhm—” the waiter stutters over his words anxiously and you kind of feel sorry for him. “he said it's a gift to occupy your mouth” and then he's leaving without any other information about whoever it is that treated you.

your girlfriends seem more excited than you do because your interest overpowers all excitement. your eyes scan the bar and take in every possible suspect, it isn't packed since it's not a busy day. everyone seems normal or they're too good at acting nonchalant. until you spot them — a pair of blue eyes watching over your every move possible ever since you entered this establishment. your breath hitches and although you have no clue of who the man is, you just know the tasty gift is from him. his stare forces you to clench your thighs as you take him in — piercing eyes, ungroomed beard and a shaved head. the sleeveless leather he's wearing makes him even more intimidating but it isn't fear that you experience upon exchanging glances with him. the stranger eventually gets up, muttering something to the other men in his table, and walks away. you follow.

“ya’ know, it ain't real kind to leave gifts unattended like that.” you turn so fast that you have to grip the sink behind you to not lose balance. “w-what?” the blue eyed man scans you from head to toe as he takes a step forward, towering over you. “the milkshake. ya didn't drink it.” you aren't sure where to look — his eyes, his lips, that beard. or maybe those large tattooed arms that looked like they're not afraid to handle you. you try to take a step backwards but the sink digs into your waist and you gasp. “i... i’m full.” the man laughs loudly and you realize he's amused while you're utterly taken aback by the situation. “full? have you any idea what it takes to be full?” his gaze darkens and you swallow as your heartbeat reaches your ears. you don't get him but you're about to.

the message in his words becomes obvious when sy’s hand clutches the side of your waist while the other hand lifts your leg to slide it around his body. “there we go. what a sweet girl you are.” he rasps as he slides his cock inside your pussy and all you can do is whimper as your walls wrap around him too tightly because it's been a while. and oh he's so thick. “gonna move now. gonna show ya what full really feels like,yea?” he doesn't wait for your reply as he draws back until only the tip of his cock is breaching your entrance. you stare at him with those wide eyes of yours and he can tell you're excited but also nervous. he lowers his head to supposedly kiss you but brushes his beard against your cheek instead and the action makes you smile. your smile turns into a silent ‘o’ because he's thrusting his cock inside you then, inch by inch, until you've swallowed most of him and his tip is kissing your deepest parts. and gods you get it now because this is what makes you full. this completes you.

your hands grip his leather jacket as he fucks you, feeling every inch of his thick cock splitting you open without any mercy. he’s impatient and he deserves this — he deserves this ever since you've walked into the bar and drawed his attention. “so fucking pretty. so wet too.” he growls and grounds his hips against yours while your pussy flutters around him when he starts pressing wet kisses across your neck. “made my whole day, baby. come here.” you can't even think straight as he presses his lips into yours and kisses you. he fucks you like he hates you but he kisses you like you're his favourite sweet. your mouth parts for him willingly and you let his tongue devour you, the taste of your drink still lingering in your pretty mouth. “please.” you find yourself muttering between open mouthed kisses and deep thrusts that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. each time the man thrusts his hips forward, his skin slaps against yours painfully. it burns and you enjoy every moment. “please what? use your words baby.” you whine in protest and he rolls his hips punishing slow to make you feel the entire stretch his cock offers to your pussy. “want to come- want to be full-” you say and he smiles because this is good, you're a fast fucking learner. he grins, teeth on full display, as he picks up the pace and slams his cock directly into the spot that clouds all your senses. you arch your back and your breasts are squished against his chest, pebbled nipples brushing on him and making him lose his mind. “you sit so kindly. pretending to be good.” you want to protest and say that you are good but his hand clutches your hip and pushes you down on his cock as he thrusts up. “sipping on your milkshake. so sweet,aren't ya?” it's like you can't think anymore when his other hand slides from your hip to your swollen clit and starts rubbing there deliciously. the drag of his cock is heavenly and his eyes can't help but take a peak between your bodies whereas you're connected. it's difficult to not cum just by the sight of your wetness coating his bare cock but he holds back to care for you first. you cum with a cry around his cock and his fingers stay on your clit, toying around with it until you feel so oversensitive. “no more— can't do more!” you protest but he's silencing you with a kiss again while dragging his cock in and out of you, the sight of your unshed tears bringing him closer to the edge. “course ya can — fuck — come on. one more, baby.” and you really don't want to disappoint this big man as he places both of his hands on your hips and holds you flat on the sink, driving his cock exactly where it should be. you don't know how long it takes you to get there but you're squeezing around him again as you orgasm and this time he doesn't hold back either. his chest crashes against yours as he empties himself inside you, burying his face into your neck, and you can feel his cock faintly pulse within you. you're spent as he pulls his cock out of you and helps you stand properly, his hands still resting on your hips. “thank you.” you mutter almost shyly as you fix yourself and your clothing — just enough to look presentable. he does the same although his eyes never leave yours and you can tell that he has things to say. “ya got a paper on ya?” his question surprises you but you shake your head. “scuse me for this then.” he mumbles as he fishes a marker out of his trousers. you want to question him but you don't need to when he's grabbing your arm gently and writes on your skin with the marker. “in case you want another milkshake.” he says with a wink and he's out the door before you know it.

you stare at your marked arm. then at the phone number. and then at the giant syverson written on your skin.

your week is bound to be full.

[shekeepswriting]

A Little More Heart (3)

[Syverson x Reader]

Word Count: 5310 (Someone got carried away. Me. It was me.)

Summary: Sy answers your grandmother's summons for dinner.

Warnings: None

A/N: I'm back from the dead hellooooo! Grad school has truly been kicking my ass. I hope this is a fun surprise for everyone

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Sy was standing three inches from an industrial box fan, sweating his ass off and  questioning every last one of his life decisions when he heard his brother shouting for him from across the garage. 

Easily as tall as Sy but two years younger and with a little less mass, Aaron was the second of three Syverson boys. Unlike Sy, he preferred his hair long and took great pride in caring for it, an abundant mass of dark curls that usually reached his shoulders. But at work, and during most of the summer, he kept it tied in a messy knot on the top of his head. 

“Sy! Phone!”

Aaron moved fast across the floor, hand clamped around the bottom of a cordless landline to block the sound, two cheap blue popsicles still in their conjoined plastic tubes clenched between his teeth. 

“By name?” Sy asked with a sigh as he approached.

Aaron shifted his grip on the phone to take the popsicles out of his mouth.

“Yep. It’s Ms. Bea. We expecting her in for something soon?”

“No, but I drove her granddaughter home last night, so - ”

Aaron’s eyes widened, and he frantically mashed at the button to put Ms. Bea on hold.

“You did what?” he asked, an obnoxious grin taking over his face. 

“Settle down,” Sy mumbled, turning back towards the fan. 

“My permanently single, grumpy-ass older brother drove a girl home last night. I’m not settling down.”

“Not a girl. She’s a woman.” 

Aaron let out a wordless shout, jostling Sy’s shoulder and plopping down on the table beside the fan, grinning even wider than before.

“Oh, there’s no way in hell I’m letting this shit go now. A woman, you say.”

Sy rolled his eyes.

“You gonna give me one of those?” he asked, jerking his chin toward the slowly melting popsicles. 

“Only as a bribe,” Aaron answered, ripping the perforated wrappers apart and holding one out tauntingly. 

“For what?”

“Information, dumbass.”

Sy snatched the popsicle  out of his hand, holding it behind his back when Aaron swatted at it. 

“Saw her walking home in the dark. Stopped to drive her home. Simple as that.” 

“Uh huh. And what earned her the distinction of ‘woman,’ I wonder.”

“She’s a grown-ass woman, that’s what,” Sy said bluntly, stepping out of Aaron’s reach to rip open the top of the popsicle wrapper. 

“Noticed her ass, did ya?”

Sy shot him an unimpressed look, breaking the top inch of frozen blue sugar into his mouth with a harsh bite and holding his hand out.

“Just give me the fuckin phone.”

“Five questions first,” Aaron argued.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Go.” 

Aaron clapped in delight, taking a moment to think before launching into his limited interrogation.

“Did you smile?”

“Yep.”

“Did she make you laugh?”

“Yep.” 

Aaron smiled again, but this time there was no mischief tied up in it. He looked uncharacteristically sincere.

“Did you get her number?”

“Yes. Last one.”

He squinted thoughtfully.

“Butterflies?”

“Fuck off, Aaron.” 

“Oh, shit, that’s a yes!” But still he wasn’t teasing. His eyes were wide with surprise, his smile still genuine, not mocking.

“Phone.” 

“You could barely grow facial hair the last time you had butterflies! The good butterflies, anyway. Shit, I have so many more questions now.”

“I gave you four, and you asked four. Now, gimme the phone.”

Aaron slapped the phone into Sy’s open palm but kept a hold of the bottom.

“We’re talking about this later.”

“Fine. Don’t tell mom.”

“Fine.” And there was that familiar smile again, the one that rarely ended well for anyone. The little shit. 

Sy retreated to his office in the back of the garage, phone and popsicle in hand, before taking Ms. Bea off of hold. There was little to no chance she’d be able to hear him out on the floor.

“Hello.”

“Hi! Busy day today? Staying cool out there, I hope.”

“Doing my best, Ms. Bea. How are ya? That car of yours still treatin you right?”

“Oh, I’m alright. I haven’t driven in a few days, but as far as I know, it’s just fine.”

“If that changes, you let me know, okay?”

“I will!” There was a brief pause. “So listen! I hear you’re the one to thank for seeing my grandbaby home safe last night.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I didn’t get this far in life leaving my debts unpaid. So you just come on down to the house when you’re through with work, and we’ll treat you to a nice dinner. How does that sound?”

“That’s a very generous offer, but you don’t owe me a thing, Ms. Bea. I didn’t know who she was when I stopped. I would’ve done the same for anyone walking that road at night.”

“Oh, I trust you would have, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some gratitude, now does it?”

Sy shook his head. If he didn’t make an appearance tonight, Ms. Bea would only show up tomorrow with the promised dinner wrapped up in foil and glass containers. He knew better than to expect this to go away on its own. And honestly, if it afforded him the possibility of seeing you again, he may not want it to. 

“Well - ”

“Pardon me, dear. My phone is being stolen.”

Sy raised an eyebrow. There was a shuffling sound, a sigh, the closing of a door. Your voice came through, flustered and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to talk her out of it, but the woman will not be denied.”

He smiled a little, imagining the look on your face.  

“That’s alright. I had a feelin’ something like this would happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just what happens around here. You do someone a favor, they find a way to thank you for it.”

“Oh… I did say thank you though, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he said through another smile. “That’s not what I meant though.”

“So you’re saying it really should be me offering you dinner?” you asked. “Did I accidentally cause a blood feud by not knowing that?”

“Just a short one. Couple decades, tops.” 

Your laugh sounded muffled, like you’d moved the phone down to your chest in an attempt to hide it. 

“So do I have your permission to come see you and Ms. Bea this evening?”

“Depends. Will there be a torch and pitchfork involved?”

“Nah. Lost ‘em both in a poker game.”

“What a shame.”

“That mean I’m in the clear?”

“Yeah, I guess you’d better come around. Especially considering I was sent on a separate grocery run specifically for this dinner.”

“I’d ask you not to go to too much trouble, but I have a feeling it’s not really up to you.”

“Rude but accurate. There’s a whole raw chicken out there. I’m mildly terrified.”

Just as he was opening his mouth to answer, the office door creaked open, letting in a flood of sound and one very stressed woman. 

“Sy!”

“Hold on one sec,” he said to you quickly before lowering the phone to his chest and raising his eyebrows in question.

“Someone up front wants to talk to you.”

Sy grimaced.

“Me specifically or a manager?”

“Manager.”

He gestured her out of the office then followed, eyes sweeping over the collection of cars and people. 

“Aaron!”

“Yeah?” he yelled from under a car Sy had been working on earlier. 

Sy crossed the garage impatiently, reaching down to drag him out from under the car by the ankle. 

“Pretty face up front.”

Aaron groaned.

“I was the pretty face last time!” he complained. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Never been pretty a day in my life.”

“Fuck you. You know there’s no good comeback for that.” 

“And I’m on the phone still. Get.”

“God damn it.” But he was already reaching up for Sy’s hand to haul him up to his feet. 

“Have fun,” Sy called after him before lifting the phone back to his ear. “Sorry about that.”

“No, that’s okay! I should probably let you go. You seem busy.”

“You got me out of talking to a customer. Far as I’m concerned, we can stay on the phone all damn day.” 

You laughed again, but this time you let him hear it.

“Does that mean you owe me a dinner now too?”

“We can talk about it,” Sy said with a smile, turning his back when one of his mechanics looked up curiously at his tone. 

“Either way, I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I bring anything?”

“Better not. We’ll be stuck in the thank you cycle forever.” 

That really didn’t sound like the worst thing, but he didn’t want to push you farther than he already was with this dinner tonight.

“Alright. I’ll uh… I’ll text you when I’m on my way then.”

“You mean to tell me you have my number?” you gasped. “How did that happen?”

“Some troublemaker gave it to me at the bar last night.”

“Interesting.” 

“I thought so. Haven’t had time to use it yet, but I was planning on it.”

“Very interesting… Well, I’ll let you go now. See you at dinner.”

“Lookin forward to it.” 

Sy tried to keep himself occupied all day, tried not to leave his mind free to dwell on you or try to predict how this dinner would go. Tried not to let himself be cornered by Aaron. Again. 

He took off a little early, running home for a shower and a change into something nicer than a stained t-shirt before heading your way. Though his warning text had prompted you to share your grandmother’s address, Sy didn’t need it. The town was small enough, and he’d been down to the house before, a couple of times, to drive Ms. Bea to church when her car had been out of commission. But he’d never been inside before, or even past the gate. 

By the time Sy’s shoes hit the driveway pavement, you were rounding the corner of the house in a pale green sundress and a clunky pair of slippers several sizes too big for your feet. Confident, as you had every right to be despite the footwear, but maybe a little flustered too. 

“Well, hello,” he said with a small smile. He let himself look you over, let you see him look you over, but only for a second. Before he could pay you an appropriately polite compliment, you blurted out,

“I didn’t wear this for you. Just so you know.”

Sy’s eyebrows rose along with his hands. It had honestly never occurred to him that you might have worn it for him. But three times was enough to pick up the pattern. Walls up at first greeting. He had to earn your ease again.

“I know you didn’t,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes on yours. “Known Ms. Bea long enough that I’d call her an ambulance if I ever saw her in a pair of jeans.” 

The corner of your mouth twitched up for a second, and you took a breath, rolled your shoulders. 

“Yeah… Sorry, I just…”

“You’re not used to this,” Sy offered with an easy shrug, lowering his hands again.

“I’m not,” you agreed. “I don’t introduce people to my grandmother. Ever. And definitely not…” You glanced over your shoulder towards the windows, lowering your voice slightly. “Definitely not a man I was flirting with the night before.”

“Did you flirt with me? Can’t recall. Where was I when all that was going on?

You rolled your eyes, more tension leaving your shoulders.

“You know I did.”

“Now, let’s see…” Sy said, running a hand over his beard in a way that earned him a real smile this time. “I remember you making fun of my handwriting. Making fun of my pickup lines. Threatening me with a knife.”

“I didn’t threaten you with a knife,” you laughed. 

Sy smiled at the sound. Now he was getting somewhere.

“No? So that was you flirtin’ then?”

“Must have been. Couldn’t be when I asked for your number.”

“Nah, I asked first.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“In my own way.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the smile was still there. Like you knew what he was doing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed by it. 

“Well, anyway,” Sy continued. “You’re not introducing me because I already know your grandma. And I’m well aware that I’m here on her invitation, not yours. So when I tell you that you look nice, it’s just an observation. No motive behind it beyond the fact that I think you ought to hear it.”

A couple of rapid blinks in surprise, a deep breath, a slow nod.

“Well… Thank you.”

Sy nodded back, and then you were turning in a pretty flutter of skirts, heading back towards the gate with a call for him to follow. 

“Rules of the house. No cursing. No wandering unsupervised. And dinner guests don’t enter the kitchen for any reason ever,” you listed, closing the gate behind him.

“Got it.”

“One more thing. Nana takes hosting extremely seriously and therefore takes my hosting extremely seriously. A lot of pageantry went into this evening. But despite all of that, rest assured you are not being husband hunted.”

“Should’ve left the ring at home then, huh?” 

“Don’t even let her hear that,” you warned with a grimace.

“Wouldn’t let me leave?”

“On the contrary. She’d light the house on fire just to get you out of it.” 

“Well now you’re just hurtin my feelings.” 

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your mouth tugging up in a reluctant smile.

“Don’t go feeling special. She’d do that to anyone she thought was proposing to me.” 

You spun around again, as graceful as you could manage to be in oversized slippers on pebbledash, and Sy smiled at the extra, intentional swish in your skirt as you led him to the back door.

“Ready?” you asked, hand pausing on the handle.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the dogs,” you said breezily as you opened the screen door. 

You were ambushed the second you walked through the door. There was a small black terrier, hopping around on two feet, desperate for your attention, and following behind at a slower pace was the largest boxer that Sy had ever seen.

“Hi, Bertie. Go make a friend,” you said softly, ruffling the small dog’s ears and shooing her gently away from you as you stepped to the side to intercept the dog that was staring down Sy with laser focus. 

Bertie came hopping up to Sy, bright pink tongue lolling out from her underbite as she braced her front feet on his shin. 

“Pleased to meet ya, little miss,” he said with a smile, crouching slowly to give her the attention she was seeking. She was a sweet one, falling all over herself to love on him.

A sharp whistle drew both Sy and Bertie’s attention, but you remained focused on the boxer, who had been leaning around you to take a peek at him.

“Brass,” you said firmly when the dog’s attention was back on you. “He’s okay.” 

Brass let out an unconvinced grumble, going back to monitor Sy until you snapped your fingers. 

“Hey. Look at me,” you said firmly. “He’s okay. Be nice. And I promise you can help me run him off if he misbehaves.” 

You held out your hand, and Brass sat just long enough to offer you her large paw. You shook it gently, laughing at the baleful eyes she was still giving you.

“Can she perform a routine inspection?” you asked over your shoulder. 

“Of course,” Sy said, sitting all the way down on the kitchen floor. 

“Be nice,” you reminded Brass as you stepped aside to let her pass. 

Sy kept still, leaving his hands open and palm up as Brass made a slow circuit around him, sniffing diligently. Up close, she was even more impressive, one of the most solid and imposing dogs he’d ever seen, not yet softening with the age that had a few greys growing around her mouth and eyes. Brass completed her loop quickly, stopping in front of him to stare at him just a little longer.

“Ma’am,” he greeted quietly, and he saw you smiling as you called her back over to you. 

“Got yourself a real guard dog, don’t you?” Sy asked, watching as Brass bumped your hand with her nose before retreating to lay in the archway between the kitchen and living room. 

“Oh yes. The General takes her job very seriously. And she’s not a fan of men. Try not to take it personally.” 

“Ms. Bea named her General Brass?” he asked with a smile. “Or do you just want a dog to outrank me to prove a point?”

“How dare you,” you gasped. “I’ll have you know we named her General Brass Knuckles together.” 

“Well, now I know you’re lyin,” he laughed.

“I would never - Nana!” you called as your grandmother finally entered the kitchen. “Tell Sy what Brass’s full name is.” 

“General Brass Knuckles. Why?” she said, holding a hand out to Sy as she approached with a welcoming smile. 

“Your granddaughter likes to tease me,” he said, squeezing her hand gently in greeting. “It’s good to see you, Ms. Bea.” 

“She’ll do that. But I happen to think it’s a wonderful name. Suits her. She’s tough like me and like my granddaughter.” Ms. Bea squeezed his hand back. “Did you come hungry?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

“Good! Go on and sit. Table’s already set.” 

Set very nicely too. Cloth napkins and the fancy salt and pepper shakers. Matching serving dishes. Ms. Bea didn’t do anything by half measures. 

Sy took the seat you gestured to, hesitating just long enough for you and your grandmother to sit before he did. 

The way you’d spoken on the phone made it sound like this was an unfamiliar process to you, but it didn’t show. You began serving and passing food smoothly, your expression pleasant but neutral as Ms. Bea took the lead on conversation.

“How’s your family? We’re getting lots of sun this summer. Your mama’s garden must be a vision.”

“She sends me pictures every day,” Sy said with a polite smile. “And she’s been doing her research, trying to figure out what to put in the greenhouse now it’s finished.”

“I think that woman could plant just about anything and make it grow. She has a real gift.”

“That was the plan. As long as she gets some use out of it, I’ll be happy.”

“Wait, did you build a greenhouse?” you cut in curiously, pausing with a forkful of roasted potatoes halfway to your mouth. 

“Not as hard as it sounds,” Sy said, chancing a wink when you squinted skeptically at him. 

“I doubt that very much,” Ms. Bea said mildly, making you laugh. “And your grandmother? She still living out there in the country on her own?”

“Nana, this is out there in the country.” 

“Alright, city girl,” she said, patting your cheek as your mouth dropped open in surprise.

“You were literally born in Brooklyn.”

“Were you really?” Sy asked, surprised. She sure didn’t sound like it, never had to his memory. Her accent was soft, but it was there, syrupy and southern like every other elderly woman in town. 

“A lifetime ago,” Ms. Bea said with a secretive little smile. “Wouldn’t recognize it now.” 

“With how many pictures I sent you last month?” you challenged with a fond smile. “You know, you could come with me next time I go.” 

“You don’t need an old lady slowing you down.” The look she gave you put an end to that conversation, and you raised your hands slightly in surrender. “Now, you still owe me news of my old friend.”

Sy nodded as her attention turned back on him.

“She’s doing alright. Gonna head up that way tomorrow to fix her air conditioner.”

“Okay, seriously? You can build a greenhouse and fix an air conditioner?” 

You almost sounded irritated, and Sy tried not to smile.

“Oh this man can fix just about everything,” Ms. Bea said.

“Wow,” you said mildly, smiling around a sip of water. “Take that compliment and run. I’ve never heard her speak so highly of a man in my life.”

“Oh, hush. Yes, you have,” your grandmother said in a no-nonsense tone.

Hush, Sy mouthed at you with mock sternness when you glanced his way. Your eyes narrowed playfully, and you kicked at his shin under the table. 

“How are those brothers of yours?”

“Oooo brothers. Now that’s interesting.” And that grin you were wearing was specifically designed to get a rise out of him. Sy eyed you, watching that smile widen just a touch before he turned his attention back to Ms. Bea. 

“They’re doing good. Jimmy’s teaching summer school. Aaron’s just the same as always. But he has been eating instant potatoes for lunch every day if you want to have a word with him about it.”

Ms. Bea gave him a knowing look, her pursed lips relaxed into a smile that verged on mischievous.

“I certainly will. That boy get a haircut yet?”

“No, ma’am. Past his shoulders now when it’s not tied up.”

You hummed with interest.

“Did he steal all of yours?”

Ms. Bea let out half a surprised laugh before she pressed a napkin to her lips demurely, regaining her composure. You were staring at him, eyes bright with amusement and challenge as he shook his head slowly at you, huffing a laugh through his nose. 

“Now don’t go giving him too hard a time,” Ms. Bea said before Sy could respond. “He did you a good turn last night.”

“He did,” you agreed.

“You should have seen it before he started cutting it all off. Just as soft and curly as anything.”

“Like a poodle,” you supplied, looking him over with a poorly-suppressed grin, as if trying to imagine it.

“You wicked thing,” Ms. Bea said with a little grin, nudging you with her elbow. “He looked just exactly like a porcelain doll when he was younger.”

Sy took a breath, wishing Ms. Bea would kindly stop digging his grave as your smile grew.

“Oh, really? Do you have any pictures?”

“I’m sure I do. Somewhere.” She squinted thoughtfully towards the living room. “In the old Christmas cards if nowhere else.”

“You’re really not giving up on that, are you?” he sighed.

“Absolutely not,” you answered. “I might have before, but a porcelain doll? Come on, now. I’m not walking away from that.”

Ms. Bea shot you a curious look but didn’t comment, guiding the three of you to a different subject with the confident ease of someone who had been navigating the passive aggressive waters of southern social life for decades. 

Things carried on that way for quite a while: Ms. Bea asking polite questions and you finding ways to subtly or not-so-subtly tease him. 

The plates had long been clear when Brass interrupted the conversation with a single, sharp warning bark, rising from her position in the doorway to bully her way behind the blinds on the nearest kitchen window. Sy heard it a few seconds later: a car making the turn onto the long driveway.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you asked, glancing to your grandmother with a frown.

When Ms. Bea shook her head, Sy leaned back in his chair, moving his head to the side until he caught a glimpse through the window over the sink.

“Little blue Toyota, looks like.” 

Ms. Bea rose quickly, her lips pursed to the point of disappearing.

“Darling, would you take our guest out to the pool house so he can pick a drink for the road? I’d like a private word with your cousin.” 

Your eyebrows raised, but you nodded wordlessly, grabbing at Sy’s arm as you stood from the table. He followed your lead, letting you tug him along out the back door.

“Poor Kat,” you said once the door closed behind you. 

“Well, she did leave you stranded,” Sy said quietly. 

“Turned out okay,” you said with a shrug, dropping your hand back to your side when you caught his eyes. 

Sy held your gaze with an easy nod, not pulling back or looking away until you took a flustered breath and tilted your head to the side.

“Let’s get out of here before the fireworks start, huh?”

You hopped off the porch steps, following the end of the driveway to a small carport that backed into an even smaller outbuilding. A later addition, it looked like. Several decades newer than the house. 

“You gonna tell me why we’re calling this a pool house? Not seeing a pool anywhere.”

“Patience,” you huffed, skirting around the two cars that were squeezed together beneath the carport. 

You paused at the door, bouncing lightly on your feet as if to gather some nerve.

“Alright, full disclosure, sometimes a lizard or a snake gets in here. And if I open this door and see a snake, I will either fully abandon you to deal with that shit by yourself or climb you like a tree.”

And there were all sorts of things he could say to that, but he chose to keep his damn mouth shut and nod instead. 

You led the way into the tiny building, wading through air that somehow felt even hotter than it had outside. After a second of endearingly impatient flailing, you caught hold of the thin chain hanging from the light on the ceiling, turning it on with a swift tug. 

It didn’t do much for the space, which remained dim and dusty. There was very little room to walk, a thin avenue of clear concrete circled a large tarped object in the center of the room. Boxes, folding chairs and tables, and a long abandoned workbench lined the back wall. To the left, nearly overlapping the door, was a refrigerator and large separate freezer.  

“Pool table,” you said, lifting up a corner of the tarp to reveal a glossy wood corner. 

Sy smiled a little. 

“Pool house. Cute.” 

“We’re unbearably adorable. We can’t help it,” you said breezily, turning away from him to open the refrigerator door. “Adorable and overstocked with beverages.” 

Every Coke product known to man filled the fridge, accented by bottles of peach tea and cans of lemonade. And…

“Are those Capri-Suns?”

Your eyes widened when you followed his gaze to the three shiny pouches tucked away on the bottom shelf. 

“Huh…” you said softly, turning one over in your hand to check the expiration date. “Why does she even have these?”

“Gotta have all the bases covered, I guess.” 

You hummed, turning your head to look up at him. For half a second, you seemed a little startled at his proximity, blinking rapidly and taking a sharp breath. Sy was doing his best not to crowd you, but there honestly wasn’t enough room for personal space. When he tried to back off a little, all he really managed to do was hip check the pool table and throw off his balance, shrinking the distance even more when you grabbed a handful of his shirt in a quick attempt to steady him. 

There was a pause, neither of you daring to take a breath. The hot, still air of the tiny outbuilding seemed to draw in a little closer, barely cut by the draft from the open refrigerator. 

“Um…” You blinked hard, pulling your hand away like he’d burned you, shuffling to the side to earn a few precious inches of space. 

“Sorry,” he said softly, belatedly. 

“S’okay…” You shook your head a little. “Uh, do you want…?” 

You lifted the little juice pouch still in your hand.

“Sure.” 

It took further rearranging to get the refrigerator door closed again, and Sy tried not to feel too bad at the speed with which you rushed from the building. 

The open air seemed to soothe you a little, the sight of you rolling your shoulders with a deep breath greeting Sy when his eyes readjusted to the bright sunlight. 

That playful confidence crept back over you, a little more tentative but still a sight to see. 

“Are you qualified to open one of these?” you asked, tossing Sy his juice. “Don’t know how much experience you’ve got.”

“Plenty,” Sy said, arching a brow at the smirk that set across your face. “Said what I said.” 

You laughed, reaching to pull the plastic-wrapped straw from the back of the pouch. 

“You sure? You can’t brute force it, ya know. You’ll just stab through both sides and end up with a mess. It takes finesse.”

“I can do finesse.”

He took the straw back from you, making smooth and efficient work of pushing it through the clear plastic circle at the top of the pouch. He took a smug sip, earning a grin from you as you raised your hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. You have the dexterity of an eight year old. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“No winning with you, is there?”

“No, sir!” you said proudly, glancing quickly towards the back door at the sound of raised voices, your smile fading slightly. “Guess I should escort you to safety.”

You plucked lightly at his sleeve as you headed back towards the gate where his truck was parked. He followed, falling into step beside you.

“Sure you don’t need backup?” 

Through a gap in the curtain, Sy caught sight of Kat, her face pinched, arms crossed. 

“Oh, I’m not going back in there,” you scoffed. “I’ll walk a lap of the neighborhood or something. Go sit by the pond for a bit, maybe.”

Sy hesitated, his steps slowing.

“I could - We could go somewhere, if you want. Give them time to cool off a little.”

You glanced at him curiously.

“Go where?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Wherever. Get a drink or something.”

“Two nights in a row? The town would implode.”

He smiled a little, leaned against the door of his truck. 

“That’s not a no.”

You shot him a look, mouth twisted up in something that looked very promisingly like indecision.

“Should be a no. Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“What’s the wrong idea?”

You let out a slow breath.

“You know I’m only going to be around a couple weeks.”

He hummed, standing up straight again.

“Doesn’t have to be a drink. Could just go for a drive. No getting any wrong ideas about a drive.”

“No wrong ideas about sunset on a backroad?”

Sy cleared his throat.

“No ma’am. We’re in for a platonic sunset tonight. It told me so.”

You laughed, but there was something a little sad in it. 

“Drink your juice and get outta here before I do something stupid, please.”

Sy knew better than to push, but damn if he didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Yeah, alright.” 

You made no attempt to mask the once-over you gave him as he got into the driver’s seat. He risked holding out his hand one last time, rolling down the window before closing the door. 

“Mind if I use that number you gave me? Sometime.”

“I think you’d better.”

He smiled at that, let it be a full one, earned himself a smile back. 

“I’ll do that then. Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sy lingered a moment longer, taking in the sight of you barefoot on the driveway, a late summer breeze making the hem of your dress dance lazily around your legs. 

You shook your head at him, shooing him away with a smile.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he could see you still standing at the gate, watching him until the truck tail lights were out of sight.

*****

A/N: Thank you for reading! I've really missed this story. Would love, love, LOVE to hear what you think.

Tags: @firstcashheroathlete @melissareadsstuff @juliaorpll78 @mrsevans90 @kajjaka @kebabgirl67 @foxyjwls007 @luckydiorxoxo @just-chirpin @deandoesthingstome @mindingmyownbusiness @summersong69 @endofalldays01 @happydistraction @identity2212 @henryownsme @mysweetlittledesire @islacharlotte @cynic-spirit @mollymal @emily-roberts @mrs-degenerate @sweetandgentlecreature @paintlavillered @geralts-yenn @enchantedbytomandhenry @sillyrabbit81

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

Until now. 

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

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

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

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

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

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

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

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

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

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

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

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

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

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

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

How could a man not look twice?

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

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

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

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

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I- I–"

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

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

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

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

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

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

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

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

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

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

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

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

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

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

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

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

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

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

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

A lady that he had found at last. 

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

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He loved the thought. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

[littlefreya]

Do you think Syverson would like it if his girlfriend gets a tattoo of his name on her wrist?

Disclaimer: Logan is not Sy’s real name (he doesn’t have one in the film). I came up with this name for him in Lines in the Sand. However, it’s not the same Sy from that story, nor from Feral Collision. :)

Pure cotton candy fluff.

Please comment and reblog 🖤

****

“Now that’s jinxing it, darlin’!” The Captain huffed, displeased at the fresh marking that decorated his girl’s wrist.

A deep frown crested his tanned brow as he inspected it closely, tilting her wrist back and forth.

‘Logan’ it read in big black accented letters. It wasn’t even a good tattoo to begin with. Trashy style, like the one his friends at the unit had. Did she get it at some walk-in studio at the train station? Knowing the reckless imp she is, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“I thought you’d like it…” she answered sheepishly, her voice somewhat vulnerable.

Sy lifted his gaze to meet hers, his big blue eyes softening as he noticed the concern and guilt sufracing her face. Carefully, he cradled her hand between his labour-coarse palms and drew it to his chest.

“Oh, darlin’, don't get me wrong. I love it that you did it for me, but…”

“But?”

“You know what they say about couples who get one another’s names inked, right? They end up breaking up and then you are left with that mistake haunting you for the rest of your life. I don’t want that. I don’t want us ever breaking up…” Sy explained, his voice carrying gently as he took her little palm and brought it to his lips. He kissed each one of her fingers, the bristle of his beard grazing her skin and making her chuckle.

“Is that a wedding proposal?” she jested.

Sy's heart jumped to his throat. For a moment there he wondered if she knew about the ring hidden in his old duffle bag. Looking at her pretty little face, staring at him with fervent anticipation, he considered asking her now, in the heat of the moment. But his impish little love deserved more than a mid-noon proposal.

“Now don’t push it, missy,” he warned playfully and booped her nose. “Now let’s get that tattoo taken care of and put some ointment on it”

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Say It Again

Title: Say It Again

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Syverson x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Prompts: Captain Syverson + Female Reader + Phone Sex + "Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" + Smut, requested by @summersong69

Summary: Your man surprises you with a call, and you surprise him with a show.

Warnings: masturbation (f/m), Daddy kink, phone sex, Facetime sex, mention of bodily fluids, lovey-dovey Sy

Beta: @peyton-warren

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Sweet Treats Event 2024 Masterlist

My Masterlist

It wasn’t easy having your man halfway across the world, but Sy was serving his country, and you loved him for that. It had been months since he was in your arms, but he always made sure to call, text, or send you a good old-fashioned letter whenever he could. His most recent letter included some spicy polaroids of him that drove you wild. 

You took the photo of him smiling at the camera and lifting a barbell over his head and hung it above your desk in your home office so that whenever you looked up at your corkboard, you were smiling back at your man. You could tell that this picture was taken at the end of his workout as his chest hair was plastered to his pecs with sweat and a pinkish hue dusted across his nose and cheeks. You were always a fan of his hairy chest; tangling your fingers through the curly, dark hairs was a favorite pastime of yours.

Then there is the other photo he sent. This one is your favorite, and it stays in your nightstand’s bottom drawer along with your sex toys. Amongst your vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, nipple clamps, and various other erotic aids is a Polaroid that is pure pornography.

In this most sacred image, Sy managed to take a picture of his gorgeous, hairy chest and his groin. But not only is he shirtless, but he is also holding his fat cock in hand as it leaks. The evidence of his orgasm litters his abs and pecs like a goddamned Jackson Pollock painting. How he managed to take this selfie is a mystery to you. 

You just can’t get your mind off of the fact that he wrote the sweetest letter to go with it. All lovey-dovey and ‘I miss you’ and then this erotic art falls out from between the pages. You almost gasped when you saw it, but instead, you bit your lip and whimpered before taking the picture into the bedroom and promptly masturbating to it.

It had become a habit of yours to think about that specific photo non-stop when you thought about moments with Sy. The thought of his deep baritone would lull you into a headspace where all you could think about was the way he whimpered and gasped for air every time he came. It turns out that the more you missed him, the sluttier and more willing you became.

Until one afternoon...

You sit in your home office, checking your email on your day off when you are interrupted by the sound of Sy’s ringtone. Runnin’ Red Lights by The Cadillac Three starts to play, and you smile before picking up your phone and accepting the call.

“Hey, baby! I didn’t expect to hear from you today. How are you?” Your cheery, bright voice denotes your surprise at hearing from your man.

“Well, today was a helluva day, and I needed to talk with my woman,” he drawls, his accent coming through the phone thick and sexy.

“You sound exhausted. What time is it there? It’s a little before two in the afternoon here,” you share, concerned that Sy is not getting enough rest.

“It’s almost eleven here. I should probably be sleeping; everybody else is. I just can’t seem to calm my mind. I figured the best cure to relax me was talking to you,” he hums. “Plus, I haven’t talked to you since before I sent my last letter, and I gotta know how you liked the photos.”

Shameless flirt.

“You ain’t even gonna ask how I liked the letter? Just straight to the porn you sent me.” You chuckle as he ignores subtlety.

“I already know you liked the letter because I’m a great letter writer. What’s on my mind at this very second is the thought of where you put the pics,” he muses, the smile on his face evident in his voice.

“Of course. I see your priorities are right on track,” you reply, playing along. “Well, if you must know, I am looking at the workout photo right now. I’m sitting at my desk, and it is staring down at me from my corkboard.”

“Uh-huh, let’s call that the ‘safe for work’ pic. What did you do with the other one, girl?” His voice sounded so deep and dark as if he had moved his mouth closer to the phone.

“For that one, I have to go to the bedroom,” you purr.

“Go on to the bedroom and get it for me,” he presses, and you can only imagine the look on his face is probably one of smug satisfaction.

You get up from your desk chair and walk across the hall to the bedroom. You sit on your side of the bed and reach into the bottom drawer of your nightstand. “Alright, baby, I am in the bedroom. Just reached into the bottom drawer of my nightstand, and would you look at that? The ‘not safe for work’ pic is in there, along with all my favorite toys.” 

“Why don’t you go ahead and put me on speaker and then set your phone down in the charging stand?” he instructs, calmly yet strongly. You do as you’re told and tell him so. “Now I want you to take out a toy and play with that pretty pussy for me. And I wanna not only hear it but see it as well, so how ‘bout you accept my FaceTime request?”

You’re so busy trying to choose what toy to take out that your head whips up to see the incoming request. You momentarily wish you were wearing something a little more enticing, but then you remember this is the same man who can’t get enough of you, no matter if you are in your Sunday best or a big t-shirt and house slippers. You accept the FaceTime call and pick up your Big Boss vibrator and some lube, placing them next to you.

“There’s my girl, looking sweeter than Christmas morning,” he says, a big smile plastered on his face as he sits at a desk with one hand scratching his beard and the other out of view. He’s out of uniform, wearing a blue pullover and one of his favorite baseball caps.

You bite your lip, knowing that hand is probably wrapped around himself right now. “Christmas morning, huh? Well, how about I open your present for you, then?” You stand and turn your phone slightly on the charging stand so he can see you clearly as you undress for him.

You start with your old college sweatshirt, pulling it over your head so only your slinky camisole is left, hiding your upper torso from view. Hooking your thumbs in your sleep shorts, you slowly move them down your legs about halfway before turning around and bending over so he can see your cheeky undies barely covering your ass.

“You are teasing the hell outta me, but fuck if it ain’t the sexiest shit in the world,” he breathes, his arm visibly flexing as he appears to stroke himself.

You take pity on him and hold the bottom of your camisole, pulling it up your belly and letting it flop your tits out so he can see them bounce before tossing it to the ground. Next, you slide down your panties and kick them to the side before crawling back into bed. You adjust the phone again to make sure he can see you sitting with your legs spread as you pick up your vibrator. You turn it on the lowest setting and tease your nipples a bit, unable to keep quiet for long.

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear all those noises. Fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he purrs, so eager to see what more you have to show him.

“Fuck, it feels so good. Wanna play with my pussy for you, Daddy,” you offer, already feeling your eager hole leaking with arousal.

“Yes, baby girl. Play with your pussy for Daddy,” he insists, licking his lips as he watches you.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whimper. 

You apply some lube to the vibrator and begin to slide it between your folds, letting it catch on your clit a few times and holding it there for a few seconds before moving the tip down to your entrance. You breathe in deeply before pushing the tip inside of you, staying still for a beat, then pushing it in further up to the hilt. You groan, and your eyes cross as you turn up the vibration speed.

Once you get your bearings, you look back up at your phone. Sy has repositioned his phone so that you can see him leaning back in his desk chair as his cock sticks out of his pants, his hand almost a blur as it rubs up and down his length. His pullover is rucked up and over his head, but his arms are still in the sleeves.

"Fuck, are you gonna recreate the pic for me, Daddy? Wanna see you cum all over that hairy chest while you watch me.” You babble, fucking yourself with your vibrator with deep, slow strokes.

"Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" He tsks at you and removes his hand from his cock. Crossing his arms, he lifts an eyebrow as he waits for an answer.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I just miss you so much,” you whine, your sloppy pussy filling the room with a squelching sound. “I need you so bad.”

“Keep fuckin’ that pretty little pussy and cum for me first. After you cum, I’ll cum. You know how this works. Always make my girl cum first,” he warns, leaning back in his seat and lazily stroking himself as you watch. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you gasp, pressing the button to increase vibration speed again. You bask in the higher intensity for a moment before leaning back on your elbow and planting your feet with your legs wide open. This gives you a better angle with which to hit your g-spot every time you thrust the toy inside yourself.

You mumble nonsense as you fuck yourself silly, your slick coating the toy and making it easier to dive deeper inside your pussy. Sy is there to cheer you on as you start to make the familiar moans of ecstasy that he knows only come before you explode.

“That’s it, baby girl. I can tell how close you are. Let go and cum for Daddy so he can cum for you, baby. Don’tcha wanna be a good girl for me? Come on, baby. You sound so damn wet for me right now. I bet I could slide right inside you with how fuckin’ sloppy that pussy is,” he rambles on, playing with his balls as his hand flies over his length.

Your tongue practically hangs from your mouth as you piston the vibrator in and out of you, hitting your g-spot over and over until you can’t hold it in any longer. Your breath hitches, your hand freezes, and you let out a wail as your body convulses and your walls flutter around the thick, vibrating toy. 

You gasp for air as you ride out your high, slowly moving your toy in and out of yourself. Blinking yourself out of your stupor, you look up to see Sy transfixed on you. He sees you watching him, and his hand moves impossibly faster, focusing on the head of his cock.

“Oh, baby girl. You looked so perfect cumming for me. You ready for me to cum for you now? Ugh, fuck, I’m gonna cum... I’m gonna-fuck,” he blurts, his hand working his dick through his orgasm as rope after rope of thick, white cum spurts from his tip. 

Just like in the picture, his chest is soon covered in cum. It just keeps coming, leaking over his hand to drip on his balls. The sounds of his gruff moans are music to your ears. His chest heaves as he dips his head back before looking back at you and smiling his goofy grin.

“Damn, girl! What you do to me should be goddamn illegal,” he yawns, stretching his arms out to the side.

“Haha, yeah, I must be such a bad influence on you. Might I remind you that you are the one that got us into this predicament? I only do what I’m told,” you tease, moving your lube and toy to the side to clean in a bit.

“Oh really? You gonna play the innocent game? Alright then, on that note, I need to get cleaned up, and so do you, sweetness. I’m suddenly exhausted, and I’ve got a meeting at the crack of ass in the morning, so I’m gonna let you go, ok?” He yawns at the end of his sentence, his eyes already starting to droop.

“Alright, baby. I love you.” You dare to clip your usual goodbye to see what he does.

“Unt uh, girl. Say it again and say it right. Come on,” he prods, his hand making a ‘come hither’ gesture.

“I love you to the moon and back and twice around the sun,” you profess, smiling wide as you say it.

“There it is. I love you, baby. You are my other half, my special person, and my very best friend,” he drawls, his tiredness showing in how his accent sounds thicker than normal.

“Sleep well, baby. I’ll talk to you soon,” you hum, beaming at the love of your life.

“Enjoy the rest of your day, love. Buh-bye,” he breathes, waving at you.

“Bye, baby,” you say, waving back. 

He winks at you before ending the call, sending your phone back to the lock screen. The photo you took at the beach years ago is staring back at you. Sy is standing with his back to the ocean, arms crossed, with a smug grin on his face. It’s your favorite photo of him—well, at least it was until he sent that picture that sits in your nightstand drawer. 

But you can’t exactly put that photo on your lock screen, can you?

A/N: This was almost too fun to write…oof, that Sy really gets my biscuit buttered.

[peyton-warren]

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.

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Part 7:

One Day We Won't Be

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: Confrontations and conversations.

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

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

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

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

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

Previous part here

——

May 2004

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggled as Sy chuckled and grinned down at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And a very pregnant belly.

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

“WHAT THE FUCK!?!?” 

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

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

She looked back at him triumphantly.

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

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

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

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

—-

June 2024

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

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

“Now who’s bein’ a creep, Buttercup?”

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

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

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

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

Sy looked down at you and kissed your forehead.  

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

You looked up at him, “What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sy leaned back to look at you.

“Equipment?”

You grinned.

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

Sy was interested now.

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

You bit your lip at how cute he was.

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

You lifted your hand to his hair. 

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

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

It only beat for you.

“Anything you need, my lady.”

You giggled at his foolishness. Sy laughed with you.

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

You looked into Sy’s hopeful eyes.

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

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

“Even if it's not my dream location.”

Sy smiled at you and grunted.

“Hmph. Avoiding me I see.”

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

“It wasn’t just you. It…”

“I know, Buttercup. Just teasin’ ya.”

Then his face turned serious.

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

Your heart dropped. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You told me that you were mine.”

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

“You weren’t square with me, Sy.”

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

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

Sy put his hand on your shoulder.

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

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

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

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

“I haven’t been hired yet.”

“You will be.”

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

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

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

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

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

He grinned at that. He raised his eyebrow.

“So, we’re in a relationship are we?”

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

“You know what….?”

Sy put his hands up and did some fast talking.

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

He took your hand and pulled you closer.

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

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

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

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

He was worth it.

“Okay, Sy.”

You finally looked him in the eye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The supercenter should have them.”

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

He was staring.

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

—-

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

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

“Same, Sy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open.”

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

Sy’s eyes rolled back into his head.

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

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

“Fuck, you’re so good for me, baby.”

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

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

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

“Fuck, you’re so thick!”

“So fucking tight!” 

You both exclaimed at the same time.

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

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

“Ugh! Feels s-s-so goooddd. Sy!” 

“Come on, give it to me baby!”

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

“Fuck! I gotta taste that shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bolted upright in the bed.

“I’m awake.”

—---

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

“Ooof! Sorry!”

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

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

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

“Becca?”

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

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

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

“How are you? This your little one?”

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

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

You inwardly cringed but said, “How cute.”

Becca, chucked her chin up.

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

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

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

Josiah was now tucked under his mother’s arm.

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

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

“Hey Sy.”

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

“Hello, Becca.”

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

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

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

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

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

You felt bad for all three of you.

“We do, don’t we?”

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

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

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

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

Becca grinned as before she turned down the next aisle.

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

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

“You good?”

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

“I’m great.”

You turned in his grip and gave him a kiss. 

“Let’s go home. I’m starving.”

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

—--

May 2004

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

Carla stepped in front of him. 

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

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

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

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

“Please get outta my way."

"No."

"No?" 

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

"Did I stutter?"

Sy turned to Tiffani. 

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

Tiffani crossed her arms. 

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

Sy threw up his hands.

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

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

Sy winced at Carla’s blunt words.

“Don’t get shy now, mutha–”

Tiffani put her hand on Carla’s shoulder.

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

“No.”

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

“No! Buttercup!!! Y/N!!!!”

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

“Just go man. Give her some room.”

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

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

“Hey, yo, man. You good?”

Gavin was concerned.

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

“This is wild, Ya’ know?”

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

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

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

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

—---

June 2024

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

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

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

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

And you still loved him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s winning?”

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

“I am.”

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

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

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

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

“Jacob Syverson!”

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

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

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

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

You were sobbing now.

“Oh, Sy…”

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

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

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

“Sy… I love you. I do.”

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

“Now. What exactly are you asking me?”

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

——

Hit Reblog if you like it!

Next part here.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: I couldn't help myself.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."

You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.

You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."

You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.

"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."

You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.

"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.

You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.

"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."

You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.

You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.

“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 

You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.

You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…

“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.

You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.

A message?

You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.

‘Looked delicious too.’

“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”

‘Don't mean the toast.’

The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.

“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”

You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.

“How about some tunes?” 

You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.

‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?

“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”

You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.

You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.

You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.

“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”

You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.

🧸

You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.

The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.

The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.

You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.

You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.

As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.

You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.

🧸

You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.

You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.

You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.

You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.

A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.

'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.

You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.

'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.

You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.

🧸

You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.

The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.

"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.

As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.

You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.

You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.

"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."

All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.

You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.

As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.

"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.

You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.

"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."

You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?

"You like sweet stuff."

"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.

He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.

You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.

"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.

"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."

You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.

"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.

"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.

"I could drive you. I have a truck."

"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.

"Why not?"

"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"

"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."

"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"

"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."

"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."

"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 

“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."

"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."

"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.

"That's nice but--"

"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."

You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.

"BourbonBear?" You ask.

"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”

[hederasgarden]

Since you’re currently into Henry Cavill, how do you think each of his characters would react if they unexpectedly walked in on the reader while changing?

Bestie, I love these types of asks. They're so fun. I haven't watched all of his movies so I am going to do the ones I know.

It wasn’t an accident. He knew you were in there changing and deliberately walked in, looking to get an eyeful. While you're stammering and fumbling to cover yourself up he's leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.

“Don’t hurry on my account, sweetheart,” he'd say with a teasing smirk.

Walter would be so absorbed in the folder he’s come to discuss that he wouldn't realize you’re half-naked until he looked up. He'd stare at you for approximately two seconds, brain buffering, before quickly averting his gaze and turning around with a muttered, "Fuck."

Later on, as he stands next to you making his coffee and studiously avoiding eye contact, he’d probably say, “Doors have locks for a reason, you know.”

Poor Clark would be flustered and awkward, stammering out a series of rapid apologies and excuses promising he didn't see anything. He'd practically fly from the room. Later, he'd find you again to apologize, staring at the floor and nervously pushing his glasses up his nose each time they slide down.

"It's okay," you'd assure him, a hand on his arm. "I meant for you to see."

"Oh." He'd stare at you for a long moment, processing your words before his cheeks dimpled with a big smile. "In that case, I saw everything."

Sy would definitely stare at you for a hot second before slapping one of his meaty hands over his eyes. He’d offer a gruff apology while blindly fumbling for the door.

“I didn’t see anything,” he’d promise, even though he definitely did. Later, when the two of you finally got together and you’re wearing the same set, he’d slip a finger under your bra strap with a grin. “Was hoping to see this again,” he’d say

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