#captain syverson x you smut

[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.

[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! 

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

Until now. 

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

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

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

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

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

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

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

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

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

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

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

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

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

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

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

How could a man not look twice?

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

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

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

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

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I- I–"

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

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

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

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

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

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

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

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

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

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

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

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

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

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

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

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

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

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

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

A lady that he had found at last. 

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

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He loved the thought. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

[viking-raider]

Sy's Therapy Barn

Summary: Austin Syverson is newly retired from the Army and struggling to cope with his PTSD. Until he decides to take a chance on a hobby, most wouldn't think could help, and the person there to help teach him how to do it.

Pairing: Syverson/Reader

Word Count: 5k

Rating: M - Quick-Burn, Language, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of PTSD, Combat Fatigue, Trauma, Wine drinking, Flirting, Support System, Movie Quotes, Leap of Faith, Mentions (but no depictions) of Mental Illness, Domestic Violence, Alcoholism, SMUT - Light, P in V

Inspiration: I saw this Instagram video of a handsome, buff gentleman that ran a pottery business and promoted it on the site.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed it. I am so sorry to any Pottery people for butchering it.

Syverson wouldn't lie, even though he had thought the hobby was stupid, the first time he thought about it. But, upon seeing a poster at an outdoor market he had decided to attend one, warm Dallas weekend, to get out of the house. Something inside of Sy had urged him to save the number in his phone, before finding the ale stand.

It wasn't until almost a month later, after waking up in the dead of night. He laid curled up in a ball, hugging his knees and struggling to breath. With the blankets and pillows thrown off the king-sized bed, and the black fitted sheet beneath him drenched in his sweat. Aika pressed against his back and whimpering at her owner's distress. It was then that Sy knew he needed something more, other than just denial, the gun range and booze to deal with his PTSD and Combat Fatigue.

He wasn't about to go sit down on some squeaky metal, folding chair, in the basement of some random religious church, listening to other Vets talk about their combat experience. Everyone nodding their heads and offering sympathy and the Word of God. Sy had stopped believing in God over a decade ago. Because, how could some magical man in the sky, with some grand plan for you, before and after you died, allow such bullshit evil into the world.

He didn't want sympathy, far from it.

Austin Syverson, also didn't do sympathy.

So, he pulled up the number from the outdoor market and gave the business a call.

“Mini's Pottery Haven, how can I help you?” A cheery voice chimed on the other end.

Sy let out a hard breath. “Hi, I saw your poster at a market, a couple weeks ago, for a pottery class.” He said, rubbing a palm over his buzzed head, feeling stupid for calling a pottery business, thinking it would help him, in any way, with his trauma. “I was wondering, if you're still doing classes?”

“Yes, we are!” She confirmed, happily. “We have one tonight, with two spots left, if you'd like to join it.”

“Oh!” Sy started, surprised, not expecting one so soon, hoping for a day to work up the nerve to call her back and cancel. “How much is it?”

“Thirty dollars, for just one person, and sixty dollars for a couple.” She informed him, pressing her phone to her ear and bringing up the planner on her computer. “You can pay when you arrive at the class.” She added, distractedly.

Sy paced his kitchen for a moment, before pausing and straightening his back. “I'll take one of the spots and pay the thirty, when I arrive.”

“Excellent! Can I have your name, please?”

“Syverson.” He answered, out of pure habit.

“All right, we look forward to seeing you tonight, and what you create!” She told him, her voice upbeat and optimistic, like she expected Sy to be the next Michelangelo, before hanging up.

“The boys would lose their shit, if they ever find out I tried pottery.” Sy said, stuffing his phone into the front pocket of his jeans.

Later that night, Sy found himself standing out front of the humble, little pottery shop, the full window front was bright from the lights inside, which was flowing with people, all standing around chatting with each other and holding glasses of wine.

“At least, they have booze.” Sy commented to himself.

“First time?” A soft voice asked, from behind him.

“Huh?” He frowned, turning around to find a gorgeous woman standing behind him, a large bag slung over her shoulder, as she regarded him with a kind expression. “Oh, yeah. You?” He asked, trying to be polite.

“Naw, I've been getting my hands messy with clay for years.” You smiled at him, patting your bag. “I assume you're here for the class.” You asked, motioning towards the shop.

“I am.” Sy nodded, licking his lips. “Just working up the nerve to go inside.” He explained to you.

“Ah, yeah. We pottery nerds can be dangerous.” You teased, smirking up at him. “You make one reference to Ghost in there and they'll turn you into a clay mold. If not, pelt you out of the shop with lumps of it.” You giggled, moving by him to step up onto the curb and grab the door handle.

A laugh rumbled out of Sy's broad chest, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I'll make sure to keep the Ghost quotes to myself then.” He said, turning his sparkling blue eyes towards you.

“Well, no time like the present.” You told him, pulling the door open and holding it for him.

“That's true.” He nodded, his smile softly fading as he joined you on the sidewalk, stopping beside you for a moment. “Thanks for the pep talk.” He said, giving you a gentle nod, before going inside.

The place was a buzz with voices as he paused by the counter, taking out his wallet to pay for his admission for the night's class. He glanced over his shoulder to see where you'd gone, but you had vanished somewhere into the crowd. Shrugging, figuring you'd paid in advance or had some sort of membership, he handed over his bank card to Mini, the owner of the business, who was a sweet looking, elderly woman, dressed in a loose and colorful, bohemian strap dress. Taking his card and the Hello, My Name Is: sticker she handed back with it, Sy turned away, spotting the small wine station, also surrounded by numerous black sharpies. He headed over, scribbling Sy, on his sticker and poured himself a glass of some kind of red wine, before finding somewhere quiet to stand, to wait for the class to start.

As he stood there, sipping his wine and looking at a wall of finished clay figurines, cups and other knick knacks, he felt a pair of eyes on him. Clearing his throat, he glanced sideways, figuring you were checking him out, which he was more than fine with. But he discovered it was another woman giving him eye-candy. She was tall, with bleach-blonde hair and in a hot-pink tracksuit, she felt out of place for a pottery shop. Though, Sy knew he shouldn't be one to speak, standing there in a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt, that had been to war with him, tight blue jeans, a pair of cowboy boots, with a black stetson cowboy hat.

The way she lifted her wine glass, however, suggested she wanted to jump his bones.

Which only amused the retired Army Captain.

“All right, ladies and gentleman!” Mini called, clapping her hands together and coming around the counter to regard her customers. “If we can all head towards the other end of the shop, where all the potter's wheels and everything are. We can start the class.” She smiled, motioning everyone to the back.

Everyone moved to the back in a messy, single-file line, still sipping the rest of their wine and chatting with each other. The woman in the pink tracksuit lagging back to walk with Sy, fluttering her lashes at him.

“Ma'am.” He acknowledged her, touching the brim of his hat, but didn't give her much else.

“What's a man like you doing in a pottery class?” She asked, biting the corner of her lip.

Sy licked his lips. “I got nothing better to do.” He said, not willing to admit the real reason he was there to her.

“I'm sure a big, strong, handsome man like you could find something to do.” She insinuated, fluttering her lashes at him.

“Pottery is just fine, thanks.” Sy replied, offering her a weak smile.

“Everyone, please find a pottery wheel and it doesn't matter which one.” Mini said, motioning to the dozen or so pottery wheels in a circle, a round lump of clay already waiting on them to be shaped.

Sy waited until almost everyone was seated, not wanting to take the chance of getting stuck sitting next to the woman hitting on him, far from that mood tonight. So, taking up a pottery wheel and grabbing the provided apron, he took off his hat and set it on a shelf behind his wheel, and slipped on the apron. Sy chuckled, sitting down on the comically small stool before the wheel, as he balanced his large, muscular body on it, smirking up at the rest of the group; seeing some of them sit on the stool like they'd done it a million times and others wobble.

“The first thing we're going to do, before we start shaping our clay,” Mini began explaining, sitting at wheel herself, apron on and perched on her stool, like the forty-plus year pottery maker she was. “is to assign our first timers, helpers. I will be giving instructions and so forth, but your helper will be there for you, just in case you need a refresher or get frustrated.” She told the group, looking around at everyone. “But just remember, just like us, human beings, we are all unique and beautiful. It doesn't matter how many times your clay refuses to shape into what your mind's eye thinks it should, or tears apart, or even if it doesn't bake right in the kiln. It is still beautiful! You still brought it into this world with your own two hands, and you should be proud of that. Because it's something no one else in this room did.”

Sy blinked at her, slightly taken aback by her statement. So used to Army instructors drilling into him about, if it's not perfect, you're dead or your buddy next to you, is.

“So, helpers, I'll let you pick your person. You've all worked here before, so you know how to identify them.”

“And how do you do that?” Someone blurted out, making Mini and the helpers chuckle.

“Well, that's one way for us to find you.” One of the helpers quipped in an Australian accent, moving across the room to said person. “But, it's the name tags, mate, or Ryan, I should say.” He smirked, offering out his hand to the newcomer. “I'm Joel.”

“Those of us here that don't have a name tag, are old pros.” Mini smiled, resting her forearms on the edge of her potter's wheel, while the rest of the helpers spread out.

“Good to see you made it all the way into the building.”

Sy looked over his shoulder and grinned up at you. “Yeah, I had a little bit of help.” He replied, glad, and a bit surprised, to see you were one of the helpers.

“Well, you're about to get some more help.” You said, glancing at his name tag. “Sy.”

He felt a lump lodge in his throat as you said his name. “That's great.” He rasped back. “I'm going to need it. These hands have only known how to do one thing, for the last twenty years.” He told you, holding up his calloused mitts.

“Oh, you got good hands for clay shaping.” You said, taking one of them in both of yours. “I'm sure we can teach these pups a new trick or two.”

“Can you teach this ol' pup any?” Sy asked, smiling at you.

“I might.” You nodded, pulling a stool up beside him. “Let's listen to Mini first, then we can find out what you want to make that clay into.” You told him, giving him an encouraging smile, that cracked open the door to a place he had tried to keep shut.

“Everyone have their partner?” Mini asked, looking around, then nodded. “Good! Now, you're going to learn your proper posture for molding.” She began, leaning forward and started her instruction for the next several minutes.

“Christ, I don't know if I can remember all that.” Sy said, blowing out a breath and shaking his head at his mound of clay. “I'm just a simple country boy, fresh out of the Army.”

You giggled beside him, lightly patting him on the back. “That's why you got me.” You reminded him, sweetly. “Now, what do you want to make? And, I swear if you say a dildo, I will get up and leave.” You warned him, seriously.

“Have people actually asked you that?” He frowned, cocking his head at you.

“Yes, more often than you might think.” You huffed, shaking your head. “I'll make anything else though.”

“To be honest with you,” Sy started, frowning down at the clay and shaking his head. “I don't know what to make. I've never been the artistic type. I always failed art class back in school.”

“Well, that's the wonder of art, and clay for that matter, Sy.” You told him, softly. “You can make whatever you want. You don't need to be artsy for it. What's the first thing that comes to your mind? Anything at all.”

“My dog.” He blurted out, biting his lip, feeling silly for it.

“All right, what about a dog bowl?” You suggested, tossing out the first dog related thing that came to your mind.

“Could we make a bowl?” Sy asked, looking over at you.

“Absolutely!” You nodded, grinning. “If you wanna make a bowl for your doggo, then we'll make one. I'll use all ten years of my clay making experience to help.”

“All right, a bowl for Aika, it is.” Sy nodded back, inspired.

“That's a sweet name.” You commented, watching Sy position himself, much as Mini instructed, then drizzle a little bit of water onto the clay and cup it in his large hands, almost hiding it completely in his palms as he started to work the wheel with his foot. “Good, that's a great speed. Keep it up. Little less pressure though.” You reminded him, watching the clay start to pancake a bit.

“Sorry.” He apologized, letting off on it.

“You're all right.” You answered, shaking your head. “So, what made you try out pottery?” You asked, reaching out, instinctively, to add a little more water.

Sy was quiet for a long moment, playing with and shaping his clay, watching the thick residue from it cover his fingers and palms. While trying to find a way to answer. He could give you the same answer he'd given the pink tracksuit lady or he could be honest. Spying you from the corner of his eye, he noticed you weren't waiting for a reply, not being pushy or intrusive. You had simply asked him the question and given him the space to answer it, when and if he wanted to with no hard feelings.

It was a breath of fresh air to him, just like feeling the wet clay in his hands. Knowing he was creating something, not harming it.

“I was hoping it would help me,” He finally answered you, licking his lips, deciding to be honest. “With my combat PTSD.” He added softer, waiting for your reaction.

“It can be quite calming.” You admitted, no ill reaction on your face. “It can also be rather frustrating.” You chuckled, with a smirk. “I about tossed the piece I was working on this morning, when one of the sides collapsed on me. I'd only been working on it for six hours.”

“Six hours!” Sy exclaimed, sitting back to look at you more steadily.

“You suffer for the art sometimes.” You told him, with amusement at his expression. “But, it's well worth it in the end. Most of the time, at least.”

“Christ, I hope this doesn't take that long.” He said, looking down at the weirdly shaped, almost oblong bit of clay on his wheel.

You looked around the room, before leaning close to Sy. “I think you're wonderful, Oda Mae.” You whispered into his ear, so none of your friends could hear you, knowing the complaints they'd give you for the reference after the class.

A huge smile crossed Sy's face and he howled with laughter, catching everyone's attention.

“I crack a good joke, we all know it!” You told them, grinning with guilt.

“I like you.” Sy said, once everyone's attention went back to their own station. “You're the first person that's made me laugh, like that, since I came home on retirement from the Army. A year ago.”

“Oh yeah?” You grinned, feeling a hot rush through your body that wasn't the glass of wine you had earlier. “Well, if you think I can crack a good joke, you'll see how good of a pottery teacher I am.”

“You take any students?” Sy blurted out, before he knew what he was thinking.

You floundered, mouth hanging open. “Um, no.” You admitted, shocked he'd asked, then saw the light start to fade in his blue eyes. “But I could consider it.” You said, quickly. “Especially if it helps you cope with your PTSD.”

“I think it just might.” He proclaimed, finding himself smitten with both pottery and you.

You laughed, throwing up your arm as Sy flicked the wet clay on his fingers at you. “Austin!” You tried to duck the mucky droplets as they splattered all over your apron, the side of your arm, face and hair, still giggling.

“You were looking a bit dry over there!” He guffawed, grinning at you. “What the heck, are you shapin', anyhow?” He asked, balancing himself back on his stool and eyeing your kaolin clay, seeing the strange, cup-like shape you had going.

“I don't really know.” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders at the grayish-yellow clay before you. “I'm just trying to understand it, and make something. That will hopefully not crack in the kiln. If I ever get around to firing it.” You told him, leaning forward again, feeling the soreness in your lower spine and forearms from working in that position for so long. “What about you?” You asked, cocking a brow at Sy, without looking away from what you were starting to consider your Frankenstein.

“Another ceramic grenade cup.” You smirked, curving your thumb into the center of the clay. “Or, what was that tea pot you made?” You asked, giggling as you recalled pulling the craft out of the kiln.

“I don't want to talk about it.” Sy replied, sounding disgruntled.

You laughed, nodding your head. “That's right, it was supposed to be a turt—Austin!” You shrieked, as his big, wet clay covered mitt swiped across your face. “Oh my god!”

“It was nothing, woman.” He huffed at you, with mischievous eyes, as he sat back down. “But I do have a question for you, babe.”

“Oh?” You replied, standing up to wipe the streak off your face before it dried.

“I was thinking,” He paused for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip as he continued to work his clay. “I still have a large chunk of my retirement payment from the Army, just sitting in my bank account.” He said, scowling as one side of the clay started to collapse.

“All right.” You nodded, staring down at him, as you stood between your two pottery wheels in the garage of Sy's house, situated on the ten acres he owned.

“I've been considering,” He licked his lips and sat back, to look up at you, wanting to see your face when he said aloud what had been on his mind for the last year and a half. “I want to open up my own shop.”

You blinked at him a couple times, processing his words. “Your own pottery shop?” You asked for clarification.

“Yeah, I want to open a pottery barn, to help Vets, like myself. Hell, to help anyone with PTSD or trauma. It helped me through so many nights of episodes and flashbacks.” He explained to you, babbling out the idea that had been swirling around him, and looked back up. “You helped me.” He whispered quietly, before shaking his head and squeezing the clay on his wheel.

“It's a stupid idea.”

Watching him destroy the piece he'd just spent the last hour and a half working on, stung you, but it hurt you more to hear him say his idea was stupid. You thought it was incredible. That it was so thoughtful and sweet of him to want to share a hobby that had given him so much in the last two years.

You were flattered to be a part of that journey with him, as well.

Your big bear.

“I think it's a terribly-” You sat down in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “good idea, Austin Syverson.” You declared, kissing him lovingly. “And if I hear anyone say otherwise, I'll pelt them with wet clay, until they think it is.”

A bright smile pulled across Sy's face as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “So, you'll come be my first employee?” He asked, nosing the side of your neck, smelling your perfume mixed with the earthy scents of pottery, tinged with a light sheen of sweat from how warm it was in the garage.

“Oh, I'm going to work for you, am I?” You cooed, amused. “What position, do I get?”

“Hmm.” He hummed, pressing his lips to your skin. “How about the head of pottery?”

“What's your job going to be?” You asked, eyes fluttering shut.

“I'm the boss.” He chuckled, tugging on your ear. “I'll have a bunch of jobs. But there's no one I trust more than you, with all your infinite wisdom of pottery, to run that area.” He told you, his hands pushing under your tank top. “I do only have two years of experience, compared to your thirteen.”

“Oh, laying it on thicker than a glaze, Captain.” You purred, feeling his fingers leave trails of drying clay on the skin of your back. “But I do like the sound of it. Do I get to boss you around during classes?” You asked, cupping the back of his head in your palm and rubbing the short hair there with your thumb, while your other hand dripped to the strings of his camouflage apron.

Sy smirked, giving your neck a sharp bite and making you gasp. “You boss me around already.”

“I do not!” You huffed, with an amused flash in your eyes, pushing his head back to look up at you.

“Whatever you say, my darling.” He replied, blue eyes sparkling.

“That's what I thought.” You smirked, kissing the bridge of his nose.

Pulling his hands from your tank top and gripping you by the hips, Sy pushed you up and pulled your legs across his lap, so you straddled him. You moaned at the straining bulge in his black sweatpants, pressing down against it through your short-shorts, sucking lightly on your bottom lip.

“What are we calling your little pottery business?” You hummed, reaching between your bodies to slip into the waistband of his sweats, finding his thick manhood and gliding your hand along it, drawing out a shivering sigh out from him.

“I don't know.” He rasped, clawing at your hips and the band of your shorts, leaving red marks in their wake. “Maybe, Sy's Therapy Barn or something.” He puffed, losing focus on the idea of running a business and growing more interested in tearing your shorts and underwear off.

“I like it.” You nodded, slipping off his lap, smiling at his hands grabbing to bring you back, but stood and took your shorts and panties off, before straddling his thick thighs again. “Rolls of the tongue and easy to remember.” You told him, taking his burning shaft in your hand, stroking him firmly as you guided him towards your glistening entrance.

“Mmhm.” Sy mumbled, his mouth latching onto your collarbone. “Whatever you say, babe.”

You chuckled, caressing your free hand over his head and gripped his shoulder, using it as leverage to sink down onto him, with a soft sigh and leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

“I love you, Syverson.”

“Ditto.” He rumbled back, wrapping his arms around you and locking you against him.

“Welcome to Sy's Therapy Barn!” You grinned as a man came through the door, the bell above it chiming through the building, his ripped muscles making the fabric of his Under Armor shirt scream, his tattooed arms showing below the short sleeves. “Are you here for the classes or to look about?” You asked, motioning around the grand shop with beaming pride.

You and Sy had found a thousand square foot warehouse, filling it with all your pottery and therapy needs and dreams. Sy had even decided to go to school and become a licensed therapist, allowing him to help the people coming into the Therapy Barn better. While they got their hands cupped around the little mounds of clay, during your classes, so they could shape it into whatever their minds wanted or needed.

Part of the warehouse was set up with kilns of all sizes and kinds, tall and wide shelves to hold pour molds and drying creations. While another section was where you and Sy held the classes for the therapy groups, either for former or active Combat Service people or, those who Sy referred to as Regulars, members of the public who hadn't served. All of them there to try and remedy their PTSD, trauma, depression, loss, domestic violence or anything else along those lines.

People that didn't require therapy were also welcome, of course.

But the two of you catered to those in need specifically, and so far, business was booming. Sy had gone to the several local Veteran Centers in the Dallas area with fliers promoting the business's program, as well as the VFW Canteens and posting on the internet. Even calling some of his old comrades. Sy had been worried and a bit skeptical with your first pottery class, sure that no one was going to show up to it. However, when the time rolled around, the bell above the front door started dinging with customers, most of them were middle aged or elderly, but there were several your and Sy's age, looking apprehensive.

It made you smile to see that look on their face, it was the exact expression you'd seen on Sy's face, that night you met in the parking lot of Mini's Pottery Barn, before he discovered the magic of forming clay. You always looked forward to seeing it change into the wonder of how amazing it is, to see your brave Captain use his fresh Bachelor's Degree to help them work through the same struggles he had. The struggles you had woken up at one or two in the morning, to find Sy in the garage, in nothing, but the shorts he'd gone to bed in, hunched over his pottery wheel, his muscles tight and teeth gritted, but his hands cupped gently around the piece of clay he was working. Trying to chase away whatever he had been awoken by.

“I'm here for the class, with Dr. Syverson.” He replied, looking around uneasily, like he expected a bomb to go off in one of the teapots you'd crafted and had on sale in the front window of the shop.

“That's great!” You grinned at him, trying to be open and encouraging towards him. “The class will start in ten minutes. You can either take a seat or have a look around. There's coffee, tea and water on the table with some cupcakes and snicker-doodle cookies, so help yourself.”

“No booze.” He mumbled, eyeing the table.

“No,” You answered, giving him an emphatic look. “Some of our potter's are recovering and sober, so we don't offer it.” You explained to him, glancing over at one of your regulars with a nod. “To repress the urge to relapse.”

He looked at you for a moment. “That's—actually, very thoughtful of you.” He said, blinking as it came over him.

“We do our best.” Sy said, appearing from the back. “Pleasure to meet ya.” He offered his hand to the other man. “Captain Syverson, 1st battalion, 3rd SFG(a). Also Dr. Austin Syverson, the co-owner of this here Therapy Barn.” He introduced himself, always giving his classifications to the Vets, knowing how at ease it made them and started that thread of a bond with him.

“Pleasure to meet you, Captain.” He replied, shaking Sy's hand. “Lieutenant Daniel Burton, 3rd recon battalion, for the Marines.”

“Well, it's good to meet you, Lieutenant.” Sy nodded, then smiled over at you, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back. “I'm sure my fiancee has given you the introduction to our business.”

“That she has.” Daniel nodded, giving you a kind smile. “Though, I'll admit, I'm a little apprehensive as to how this is going to help me get straightened out. I watched some videos on pottery on Youtube and it just doesn't seem like much.”

You and Sy looked at each other, a smile and knowing look on each other's faces.

“It seems that way. I thought the same thing, myself, at first.” Sy confessed, a winking at you. “But, all you have to do is take all your emotions. All your pain, all your love, all your passion and all your rage and work it into that bit of clay we give you on that pottery wheel and the rest comes with it.”

You looked at Sy, it had become a thing between the two of you, and in doing so, that line had become his motto. It had become part of the business's motto, and few people actually caught the reference. But that was all right. The two of you still got through to people in the end. Saving them from their dark past through horrible movie quotes, a man that took a chance on a hobby and your skill with moving clay, sculpting a life and a business out of it.

[jamneuromain]

Mean Daddy

Logan Syverson x Reader (You)

Word Count: ~750

Warning: Mean!Sy, established relationship, fingering, spanking, sex toys (dildo), implied multiple orgasms/overstimulation

Summary: Your mean daddy comes home :]

A/N: This fic is purely under @gummydummy19’s influence. Blame her for encouraging my behavior XD

Sy had been gone for ten months for a deployment overseas. He couldn’t tell you where he was being sent to, but he promised he’d call when he’s not on the field, which gave you plenty of wiggle room to tease him over the phone.

Most of the time, you would listen to how he spent his day in the base camp, wrapping yourself in his hoodie so you felt close, as if he was hugging you from the back and murmuring by your ear. Occasionally, when you were feeling particularly naughty, he called you and you put the vibrator between your legs, moaning his name with your phone on speaker.

… and you might have accidentally compared him with the vibe, and claimed that the vibe is better.

Empty threats were thrown all over the place. You giggled and cleaned yourself up with wobbly legs when he growled on the other side of the phone, cursing your menstrual cycle and the fact that he was thousands of miles away, and the dark voice in which he warned you. That you would be spanked so hard that you would not be able to sit for a week after he returned from this tour.

You, of course, did not give a damn and fucked him over the phone every month before your period hit.

And, in return, shortly after his arrival, you were pulled over his knee for him to deliver his promise.

“The pathetic toy is better, huh?” He lands another ruthless spank on your sore ass, holding both of your hands behind your back, spreading your legs wide so that his hand could travel down to your soaked panties and mock you for it, “Which one is better now, sugar? Which one is making your pussy cry like a baby?”

You whine, spreading your legs a little wider to grind your neglected clit on his thigh. But Sy notices the angling of your hips. Tearing the panties from your bottom, he prods two of his thick fingers into your weeping hole, slowly circling your G-spot as you whine again in misery.

“Feels so good, you can barely speak?” Sy pulls his fingers from your tight walls, sucking on them lewdly loud, his chest rumbling in satisfaction, “Hmm, sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”

Your juices soak his boxers. It has been months since he laid his finger on you (not to mention his cock). The vibe could only serve as a minimum replacement. You know it. He knows it.

And yet, he still punishes you for making a comparison.

“Sy, baby, I’m sorry, ‘kay? You’re the best.” You sniffle as the sensitivity brings you close to tears. You want, no, need to be fucked right this moment or you will explode, “Sy, please. Please put your thick cock into my pussy or I’d die-”

Your pathetic whines are cut off when he opens your bedside drawer, taking out a just as thick silicone dildo.

Sy lets out a cold hard laugh, “Cute. But I’m not done with you, sugar.” Wetting the silicone tip with your entrance, his only warning is “Relax, darlin’ ”, before pushing the monstrosity deeply seated in your pulsing walls, making you cry out in frustration.

“Fuck!” You moan as he grabs the base of the fake cock and attempts at moving it around.

Making sure the fake cock stays snuggled in your hole, Sy smacks your ass again. After a few rubs that eased the burn on your skin, Sy reaches your bundle of nerves, giving it an experimental squeeze, earning a yelp from your throat.

Jesus Lordy Christ, this man knows your body better than you do.

“Wanna play a game, sugar?” He smiles proudly, flipping your body around, not breaking a sweat at all, and places you on the bed on your back with your knees around his waist.

“No.” You huff, rolling your eyes as loud as possible.

Unless he is pulling out his cock right now, there’s nothing that could attract your attention or your enthusiasm.

Needless to say, the pain on your ass is subduing, allowing you to quickly forget what would happen if you are mouthing off to him.

Sy narrows his eyes. A dark glint rushes past his eyelids.

“Too bad. The game is called ‘How many times can you cum’, and darlin’, you ain’t getting out of this bed until you pass out.”

[princessaxoxo]

Baby, it's cold outside

Boyfriend!Sy x girlfriend!reader

Summary: You spend a chilly night by the fire with Sy.

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (m & f receiving), fingering, if I missed any please let me know.

Word count: 928

The powerful winds that were howling outside due to the blizzard caused the air inside your house to feel chilly and the windows to rattle. Sy and you were snuggled together on the couch, enjoying hot cocoa while watching National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. 

This was his favorite guilty pleasure Christmas movie, as the two of you made it a tradition to choose one and watch it each year. Though the movie seemed corny to you, Sy was laughing uncontrollably and infectiously, making you chuckle as well.

“Looky there, will you finally admit you like this film?” Sy asked and began pampering your face and neck with kisses, making you chuckle louder. “Huh, honeysuckle?"

“Absolutely not, sweetums," he hummed at your response. Then he threw you onto the couch, making you yell, and pinned your hands above your head. "Darlin', I'll convince you that the greatest holiday film is National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation."

"And precisely how are you going to accomplish that?" you asked, shaking your head. He released your hands and raised his head. With a sly smile, he continued, "Honeysuckle, I could tell you, but actions speak louder than words."

Sy’s whiskers tickled your face while his sultry, smooth lips glided with yours, his tongue gently dominating yours. With attentive moves, he took off your sweater and planted tender little kisses on your shoulder. He grabbed ahold of your breasts, kissing the top of them before reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra. His tongue immediately started to lick around your nipple, switching between both. "Sy." You started to run out of breath.

With a fast motion, his fingers skimmed over the top of your pajama shorts and pulled them off, along with your favorite Christmas panties. After giving your inner thighs a hard smack, Sy moved in and planted a kiss on the tender regions. 

Sy let his shirt fall to the ground after slipping it off. Grasping your thighs with his forearms, he pulled you into his face, split your folds, licked tenderly on the clit, and groaned. As you started to grab and ride his face, he started to lick you like a starving man, thrusting his tongue in and out of your cunt.

Gasping out loud, you were taken aback when two fingers suddenly filled you. As he removed his lips from your clit, you whimpered. But when his fingers accelerated inside of you, the sound of your wetness grew more audible. He curled them perfectly, finding the precise area to give you a cry of joy and make your legs and thighs tremble.

He stood unbuckling his pants and undoing his belt, and you watched, mesmerized. Quickly removing both his boxers and pants.

Stroking his cock, Sy said. “Bring that pretty mouth of yours over here, darlin’.” Eagerly, you crawled towards him, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue, but don't suck." Parting your lips, you exposed your tongue. And with his cock resting on your tongue, he began to glide up and down while admiring the view of you on your knees for him.

“Honeysuckle–suck.” At his command, you start licking a wet circle around his leaking, bulging tip. “Atta’ girl.” Sy said. He started moving toward the back of your throat. Trying to take in as much of him as possible, you moan along his sturdy length.

Grasping his robust thighs with your hands, you continuously bobbed your head up and down while slurping and moaning on his cock.

Tears began to brim your eyes as you looked up at Sy, “Goddamn darlin’, look at you, so beautiful with my cock down your throat.”

You could feel the muscles in his thighs tensing beneath your hands as his jaw slackened, signaling his impending arrival. Shortly after, you felt his salty liquid spurt into your mouth and down your throat as you swallowed his load.

“Lay back for me, honeysuckle.” He climbed on top of you as you lowered yourself, holding your face in his hands and giving you a passionate kiss. You whimpered as his cock pushed between your creases and then into your cunt with a single thrust.

His thrusts accelerated as you encircled his waist with your legs and lightly scraped his back with your nails. Curving your back off the carpet, you closed your eyes, and Sy said, "Darlin', keep those pretty eyes on me."

When you opened your eyes, the sound of wet skin slapping together, combined with your groans and his grunts, filled the room. You were getting closer to your own climax with every hit of his sac against your flesh.

With your breasts bouncing up and down, Sy reached for your nipple and teased it, bringing you to your orgasm. Sy’s balls tightened at the sight of your orgasmic, stunning face before he filled your cunt with his seed.

You two started trying to get your breath back. A shiver ran throughout your body as his thumb brushed your cheek. Before giving you a kiss, he added, "I'll get us a blanket, honeysuckle."

His ass flexed with every step as he got up from the floor and gathered a blanket, and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. Upon his return, he draped the blanket over the two of you, brushed your hair back from your face, and caressed your delicate skin, which was illuminated by the fire that had slowly lowered in the living room. "Okay, sweetums, the best holiday film is National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation."

Sy nodded his head, smugly smiling. "Yes, it is, darlin', and don't forget it."

Taglist: @viking-raider @ellethespaceunicorn @chloe92 @juliaorpll78 @identity2212 @kingliam2019 @beck07990 @shellyshellshell

[martha-oi]

•°Captain Syverson°•

°• @sillyrabbit81 •°All her works are amazing!°•

Even If You Don't Mean It •° this one started it all for me♥️°•

Pulled in line

Riding high

Cure for boredom - Cure for boredom part two

Work then play

Pink or black

Close shave

Sy loves quickies

Attached

And so much more

Girls' night needs

Lookout

Candy cane

Blood hound

Wrapped

Cotton tail

Curious inspired by this

Fuse

°• @littlefreya •°is one of my favorite also°•

Lines in the sand

Feral collision part one - Feral collision part two

Shades of Green

Bring it on

Captain cunnilingus

Let me in - Set me free

Waking up the beast

The Captain and the Maiden

Knockers

Florist Sy

Salt & Iron

Buns in the oven

Kiss me in slow motion

Cosy

Tough luck

The beast

Home sweet home

Peach pie

Husband's duty

Pictures of you

°• @angryschnauzer •°

No I in team

Bubbles

By The Waning Crescent Moon

°• @shewriteswhenthewordscome •°

Gray sweatpants season

Returning the favor

Smutbomb

Reading is FUNmental

°• @raccoon-eyed-rebel •°

What's the occasion?

°• @feralrunaway •°

Lower

Yrsa

The predictament

°• @loganbcrnes •°

you are the bane of my existence and the object of my desire

°• @delicate-moon-princess •°

The night of many firsts

°• @wolvesandhoundshowltogether •°

Kissed by fire 🔥

Pearls

A girl chest friend

Of beard and ranks

Good ol' boy

Dog tags

°• @mayloma •°

Sweet things

°• @viking-raider •°

Sy's therapy barn

°• @geralts-yenn •°

Bonfire - Something like that

Dad Sy

°• @augustsprincess •°

Plenty of room

°• @just-chirpin •°

Eyes that see - night terrors

°• @nashibirne •°

Truck stop - Pick up

°• @doll-r-t •°

A warm italien night with the captain

My sweet peach

A cold tent and a warm captain

My baby bear

°• @capncassas •°

Supply run - Twinkies, Ho-Ho's and Ding Dongs

Pretty as a peach °• this one is🔥😩•°

Box truck surprise

°• @gummydummy19 •°

Spanking - the do over

Balance

°• @princess-of-riviaa •°

No strings

What a man

Wet dreams

My Captain - your sergeant

°• @scorpiobitch95 •°

Sugar and the bull

Namaste

Hoodie love

Magenta

°• @mrsarnasdelicious •°

Touch starved

Overseas hero

°• @followyoursecretsmutblog •°

Mine

°• @thelastsock •°

He very much gives a fuck

Handprints on the glass

°• @hertzwritings •°

Yes professor

°• @zealoushound •°

A dose of serotonin

Watermelon sugar

°• @witchersmistress •°

Bite me Sy

[drewharrisonwriter]

No Ties

Henry Cavill x Actress OFC

Summary: You don't do commitments, and it looks like Henry may be down for it.

AO3 | Masterlist

You had just wrapped up a movie with your Hollywood crush, Henry Cavill, not more than a week ago, and now you were sailing in a catamaran across Italy with him and your closest friends, Pedro, Oscar, and Sarah before the press tours.

Your admiration for Henry had been a long-standing affair, something you'd made clear long before you began working together. You'd even cracked jokes during the previous year's Oscars where you won Best Supporting Actress, cheekily thanking him in your speech, despite not having worked together at that point.

With the movie-making behind you, you were finally able to relax with the people who made you feel most at ease, including Henry.

"I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're asking," you told him candidly, causing him to snort and nearly spill his drink. The warmth of the whisky tingled the roof of his mouth and the back of his nose.

"That's not what—"

"May I remind you that I'm nearing my 30s," you continued, adding a playful twist to the conversation.

"I–I am just curious because, you know..." He stammered, clearly wrestling with his words. You understood what he meant; to Henry, you seemed young, and he had no confirmation of any public relationships. You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"I'm sorry," he began as you settled beside him, tucking your feet up on the cushioned booth of the catamaran's dining area.

"I, uh... am just curious, you know, and I am not here to judge—"

"Are you attracted to me?" you blurted out with an almost deadpan expression, catching him off guard. His cerulean eyes widened in surprise, and he held his breath.

He remained still in mild shock at your words, and you continued, "Because why else would you be so interested in what I've done in the sack?"

"Can't a person be curious?" Henry tried to play it cool, taking a sip from his glass as you pouted and shook your head lightly.

"I'll have sex with you, if that's what you want. Gladly," you stated bluntly, leaving him with his mouth hanging open in complete shock.

Despite the public knowledge that you were a huge fan of him, likely mentally dating him for years, you made it clear that committed relationships were not your thing. It's just the way you lived, you told people.

You had been a professional singer for over a decade, and your rise to stardom had been meteoric. Each album, each single, each tour was a resounding success. In the past three years, you had ventured into the world of movies and achieved success there as well. 

Sarah once told you that everything you touch turns to gold, and Pedro humorously referred to you as Queen Midas. 

Given the way you were living your life, the last thing you needed was a relationship that could potentially hold you back.

"Did you finally break him?" Oscar chuckled as he descended into the kitchen, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. Pedro and Sarah followed him, removing their sunglasses as they took a seat opposite you and Henry.

Henry took another sip from his glass, suspiciously longer than necessary.

"Did she give you the 'I don't do relationships' spiel?" Pedro laughed, and Sarah rolled her eyes, but a huge smile was plastered on her face.

Henry gently set the glass down on the table, his eyes locked onto it as he seemed to contemplate his response.

"I'm—surprised. Your songs are so... romantic. That's why I asked, I mean... you must have experienced strong feelings for people for you to pen and sing those songs," he finally spoke, his gaze still fixed on the glass.

"Do you want to know her secret?" Sarah asked excitedly, biting her lower lip. Henry looked up and nodded his head with a shy smile. "She writes about our experiences. Not hers..." She giggled.

"That makes sense."

Later that evening, as your friends dozed off in the living area of the catamaran, you found Henry on the deck, gazing at the distant view of Amalfi, a drink and cigar in hand. You announced your presence by lightly knocking on a nearby pole. He turned around and warmly smiled at you as you walked toward him, slipping under his free arm.

Surprised and uncertain of what to do, you guided his free arm to wrap around your waist, and he relaxed in response.

"So what..." He began, "Are we a thing now?" You both exchanged glances and laughed as you wrapped your arms around him, leaning against his chest.

"You could say that. Just let me know if you want to stop, and everything stops," you assured him.

"Is that how this works? What do you do when you catch feelings?" Henry asked with a hint of curiosity. You giggled in response.

"Well, that's the thing. No feelings. Just... fun and company." you stated matter-of-factly.

"I don't know how I feel about that."

"Well, you can start by not telling me how you feel about that." You chuckled and he was smiling, amused as he shook his head in disbelief. 

You looked up at him, and he was already looking down at you, slowly leaning in. You closed your eyes as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, his breath warm and carrying the scent of whisky and cigar—intoxicating. You inhaled it slowly, and his lips finally met yours. You leaned back and loosened your arms around him, tiptoeing to meet his lips where they were.

It was your first real kiss, not something rehearsed for a music video or a movie, where dozens of people scrutinized your every move for the audience.

This was... real life.

"So..." He breathed, "No feelings, huh?" A smile curled up on your face as you shook your head, leaning back in to kiss him some more.

"Yeah. No feelings. That's the only rule." You whispered. 

"Wanna take this inside?" He nodded, and you both made your way back to your room.

"This is not how I pictured our first time would be," you mumbled as you slowly unbuttoned his shirt while he untied your robes. He sucked in a breath as the fabric fell on the floor, revealing everything for him to see.

"Commando, huh?" He looked up at you, a sudden intensity in his usually soft blue eyes. You cocked your head back in a slight laugh.

[kte-alxxndr]

masterlist

fluff smut characters

fic recs

[lhenrycavil]

Sy just got back and since you know he wants a shower, he tells you ‘Come on honey, i need u now.

[gummydummy19]

A year in apartment 6B

Summary: You find an ad for your dream apartment and decide to give it a go. Apartment 6B is everything you've ever wanted: high ceilings, an open floorplan, and a 6ft4 grumpy army captain...

Warnings: (every chapter will have separate tags so please read those too!) fluff, angst, smut (holy trinity), grumpy Sy, roommates to lovers, slow burn, jealousy,...

A/N: Im so super duper excited about this!!!! I hope you guys enjoy it and please feel free to leave feedback anytime :) Some of these chapters might be regular fic length while others are gonna be just drabbles. If anyone has a request for this AU please let me know and I'll see what I can do :)) <3

apartment 6B floorplan

Month one (May): Moving into 6B

After finding your dream apartment in the paper, you decide to take the change and move in.

Month two (June): What dreams are made of

You have a very interesting dream about Syverson...

Month three (July): Letters to Juliet

You decide to write a letter to Syverson

Month four (August): Laundry day

You've been so caught up with work and stuff that you've gotten behind on your laundry....maybe you can borrow something from Sy's closet? just this once? What he doesn't know can't kill him, right?

Month five (September): Early bird

Sy comes home from his tour early.

Month six (October): Army nurse

Sy is too grumpy and proud to ask for help, so you do what needs to be done.

Month seven (November): shower me with love

Sometimes, a cold shower is needed.

Month eight (December): Sticky fingers (coming soon)

Sy notices some of his hoodies have gone missing. What on earth could you be doing with all those hoodies?...

Month nine (January): Night owl (Sy's POV)(coming soon)

Sy went out for drinks with his friends and comes home late.

Month ten (February): Date night (coming soon)

Your neighbor Mason from the apartment above you asked you out on a date...

Month eleven (March): baby, please don't go (coming soon)

Tension gets high in apartment 6B

Month twelve (April): a year in apartment 6B (coming soon)

It's been a year since you moved in and a lot has changed...

taglist;

@metalbuckaroo

@princessayveke

@montsepliego

@scxrletrecsmarvel

@hopelesslyrogers

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@tfandtws

@vicmc624

@ahahafudge

@enchantedbarnes

@wickedravyn

@pono-pura-vida

@amayaraestyles

@matchat3a

@fictional-hooman

@sebastianexplicit

@peaches1958

@avengersfan25

@jamneuromain

@tryingtoliveonmywishes

@mrsevans90

@daybreak96

@tiredqueen73

@fallingforunrealisticromance

@identity2212

@randomweirdoss

@ragamuffin285

@juliaorpll78

@geralts-yenn

@imjusthereforliam

@bangtanstoeart

@squeezyvalkyrie

@enchantedbytomandhenry.

@superduckmilkshake

@kingliam2019

@bascmve01

@missgaygurl

@foxyjwls007

@mollymal

@urmomsgirlfriend1

@luxeydior

@beck07990

@liecastillo

@warriormirkwood

@vintage-is-my-middle-name

@lucinapomona

@madebylilly

@nothingbettertosay81

@est1887

[witchersmistress]

Bite me Sy

Hello my darlings!! Im sorry this took me a while to post, my PCOS is being a wicked bitch this last week and i have just been so so uncomfortable, but i did manage to finish this piece for ya'll.

Trigger warning: man handling, rough oral sex, female recieving, soft and fluffy Sy

word count: 2.4 K

 Sy chased you around the structure, you let out a squeal, barely escaping the big burly bearded bear man's grip. " Logan enough" you yelled back in his general direction. " I didn't mean to apologize again." Slow your speed, listening for the well trained army man.

" I warned you, sugah what would happen and now im starving" The last word was a low growl, you could practically feel his presence as you darted to your left only to be caught in his grip, you could only see him in the partial light of the setting sun but from what you could see, the man looked like a god.

Pinning me to the side of the house he caged my head  with his big muscular arms, his intricate tattoos peeking out from beneath his dark tee. His blue eyes looking fluorescent in the setting sun, his white canines glinting on the edge of his lips, turned up in a wicked grin.

“Now that I have you, my pretty little thing..” moving his arms from around my head to gripping my hips and drawing closer to my face, our lips just barely touching. My lips began to tremble as he kneaded my hips. “I'm going to eat you raw, until there is nothing left, every tender and juicy morsel will not be left untouched and without my mark so you won't ever forget” he latched on to my bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth before devouring me. It was a clash of tongues, and teeth. His hands sliding down my hips, parting my legs with one of his muscular legs, he scooped me up and wrapped my legs around his waist and walked us around the back side of the house. 

Pushing his front door open with his foot. We made our way into his house as he kicked his front door with a slam before walking into the dining room and placing me in the middle of the table. His hands went for the button on my jeans and popped it as he shimmied them down my hips leaving me in my cotton panties. Discarding my jeans, he placed both my feet on the table and spread my thighs, “Do not move” he growled as he pulled the head chair out from the table and sat looking up at me through my  spread thighs. I could see him visibly harden in his signature cargo pants as he drank in the sight of me.

My whole body began to tremble as he scouted forwards in his chair and pulled my ass to the edge of the table draping my legs over his shoulder, my anklet catching his attention as he kissed my ankle before nipping at my calf. His darkened eye met mine “Do you remember what i said if i heard you apologize to me one more time?” His accent is thicker than usual. Biting my lower lip “ That if I apologized again that you would eat me..” I trailed off feeling a blush crawl its way up my neck and across my entire face.

He let out a low rumble of a laugh as he pulled his blade from his belt and brought it to the underside of my chin and tilted my head up to meet his gaze  “ I said if you apologize again. I’ll eat you. I will eat you slowly. I will savor every inch of flesh and suck every tender morsel. I’ll savor you like a goddamn dessert.” 

My legs began to quiver, as he took the blade from underneath my chin and brought it down to the edge of my panties and sliced them off. Then plunging the knife into the table. The cool air sends  a chill through me as it brushes against my damp inner thighs, as Sy spreads my legs wider, exposing me. “Please,” I whimper, taking my bottom lip between my teeth. “That’s right,” he bites out. “Fucking beg.” My heart pounds through my ribcage. “Please,” I beg, desperate to release all this built-up sexual tension. His warm breath brushes my clit, every nerve ending on edge. “Yes,” he groans, pushing his fingers between my sensitive flesh. “Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?” My body jolts, and I helplessly writhe against the table, reaching down for him. Burying my fingers into the neck of his t-shirt, I kick open my legs wider. “Please Please Please” I whine. He whines back, mocking me. “Please, I’m begging you, Fuck,” he sharply groans, rubbing my clit in slow, torturous circles, as I moan with satisfaction. “You’re so fucking wet.” He dips the tip of his finger inside me, barely, and the anticipation is beyond agonizing. 

Thrusting deeper, my inner walls tighten around him, and my stomach tenses. Without warning,  he quickened his pace, pushing his finger into me over and over, before adding in another. Curling his fingers in all the right places, he slows, stroking my walls. “Such a tight, little cunt,” he says. “Sy,” I impatiently moan, and that does it. Without wasting another second, he lifts me into his arms, carrying me down the hall to his room and throwing me on his large bed. Firmly grabbing my ankles, he pulls me to the edge, spreading my legs once more. He presses his lips on the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, teasingly. And finally, he takes me into his mouth. He races his tongue over my clit, flicking lightly in the perfect rhythm, then up and down the wet slit of my sex. Oh hell, he knows what he’s doing. Now I understand I've heard women call him Captain Cunnilingus. 

 He skims his rough  hands over my breasts. Yanking down my top ever so slightly, he pinches my nipples, twirling them between his fingers. This only seems to bring me more pleasure, as he thrusts his tongue inside of my core. “Oh my God,” I moan, writhing against his face. “Yes.” He trails his hands down my chest, ribcage, and hips, caressing each part of my body as he slips them lower and lower to my most sensitive place. Moving my legs further apart with one hand, he pushes two fingers inside of me with the other. “ God isn't here Darlin’ but I am.”

Thrust after thrust, he continues this beautiful  attack of sucking, nibbling, tasting. Savoring me, as if he’s literally starving. My stomach flutters, my breathing quickens, and I buck my hips, matching the thrusts of his fingers. Wrapping his muscular arms beneath my legs, he reaches for my arms, suddenly pinning me to the bed, giving me no option to escape. Fisting the sheets with my trembling, sweaty hands, a feeling builds up inside me, and bursts into pieces. I come undone, forgetting to breathe, toes curling. Riding out my orgasm, I grind myself against his face, until I physically can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” he groans, his face still buried against my wetness. “You taste too good, Darlin . I need more.” He tightens his hold on my arms, pinning me in place, and burying his face against my pussy. Just when I believe that it isn’t possible to come again, he proves me wrong, fucking me into oblivion with his fingers and tongue until I’m exploding with pleasure, even more than before, to the point of where I’m seeing stars through my eyelids. “I can’t,” I whimper, trying to break free from his grasp.  Except Sy doesn’t stop, the beautiful torment continues. “I can’t take anymore,” I gasp, hushed, little whimpers escaping my lips. “Oh, my God. Sy.” My climax consumes me, taking over entirely. Nothing else matters but the earth-shattering sensations. As a rush of wet heat flows from me in a way I’ve never felt, and I cry out, humiliation burning through you even as the orgasm clenches you in its grip. He moans deep in his throat, pushing his tongue deeper even as you cry out wordlessly, My inner walls spasm, my legs begin to shake, and I’m sure I’ve forgotten to breathe. Sy finally releases me, and I remain motionless on the bed, attempting to gather back any strength in my body that I can find. About a minute must pass before I feel his knuckles caressing my face. “Mine,” he claims. “You are mine.” nipping at the sensitive flesh of my thighs, then my stomach, my breast, my neck, before grabbing my face and pulling me into a soul searing kiss.

Sy’s POV

“Hi, baby girl,” I whispered. She breathed in and turned her face toward me. I gave her a small kiss before gently tugging her shirt back up. She blinked a few times and then met my gaze. “Hi,” she said, smiling over at me. I started to remove the sheets from the bottom of the bed. “Roll over for a sec,” I said once I got all the corners up. She rolled over onto the soft mattress protector, and I pulled the sheets completely off. She rolled back onto the bed. “I’m sorry.” “What did I tell you about apologizing to me? I will tie you to this bed and fuck you with my tongue, fingers and when you cant handle anymore and you are begging me for release, I’ll slam into and fuck you till you see God, do you understand me ” I asked as I threw the blankets on the floor—I would deal with those later—and pulled a fresh blanket out from a drawer. Looking up to meet her shocked expression, her mouth was opening and closing like a fish gasping for water. Her face was flushed red with embarrassment and lust, her chest was heavy at the thought of what I'd do to her if she apologized again. Letting out a low laugh, I approached her and grabbed her chin. “ Look at me” I growled as her eyes snapped to mine.  

 “Bu..bu…but... the mess I made on your sheets. That’s embarrassing,” she groaned and tried to pull away from me but I wasn't having it .Gripping her jaw much more firmly this time  “There’s nothing to be sorry for or embarrassed about,” I said, crouching down at the side of the bed to look at her. “I should be thanking you for the compliment. There’s nothing hotter than knowing I made you so satisfied you left a puddle on my sheets.” 

She groaned again, turning bright red, and closed her eyes. “Hey,” I said, tapping her cheek. “I’m serious. I’ve never been his hard in my entire fucking life, Darlin.” She opened her eyes and rolled them before moving to sit up. “Nope,” I said, stopping her. “Stay here a second. I’m going to go get something to clean you up, and then you get whatever you want to eat.” I laid the blanket on the side of the bed and made my way to my master suite to wet a washcloth with warm water. I needed to clean her up and cover her fucking body with that blanket so I could get rid of my raging hard-on. I slipped on some sweats and tucked myself into the waistband until it decided to calm down. Walking back over to the bed, I spread her legs and wiped her clean before throwing the cloth onto the pile of dirty sheets. “Thank you,” she said sleepily as I covered her with the blanket.

She rolled on her side and was propped up on her elbow watching me “What are you hungry for? I don’t really have any food in the house, but I will order you whatever you want we’re going to need some calories for you, "I said with a suggestive wiggle of my eyebrows. She gave me a look, and I shrugged. “What? If you think for one damn second that I was gonna feed you and send that sweet little ass of your home before the sun has come up, you’ve lost your mind sugah, I'm not nearly done with you yet. Now, what do you want?” “Pizza,” she stuttered. “Just pepperoni, please.”  “That's my girl” gave her a kiss on the head and a hard smack to her ass, she squealed my name as i got off the bed and I went off in search of wherever I had left my phone and let her rest. When I finally found it, I ordered the pizza. 

When I was done, I took a few minutes to try and relax my mind and my goddamn cock, he was being a needy bastard but it wasn't about him right now, this was about her. With a frustrated sigh I made my way back into my bedroom to find her fast asleep. I crawled under the blanket behind her and  pulled her into my body. She rolled over and rested her head on my arm and threw one of her legs over my hips. She could barely open her eyes. “Pizza?” “On its way. Sleep. I’ll wake you up when it’s here, don’t worry,” I answered. “You want to know something?” she asked, burying her face into my chest.  I began to run my forefinger and thumb up and down her shoulder  “You’re going to think I’m lying to make you feel like some sort of god or something,” she laughed. “But I swear I’m not. A guy has never been able to make me finish. A guy has never been able to make me finish.” “what?” I asked, shocked. I rolled over to look at her “ You're serious? You havent been fucked properly?”  “Yeah,” she yawned. “I just always faked it to get them to stop trying. And here you are, giving me three out-of-body experiences in the span of a few hours.” 

I breathed her in, trying to settle myself before I said or did something’ stupid. But I didn’t have to. She had fallen back asleep. No one had ever in her entire life made her finish. What kind of fuckwads were out there? I would never understand men and their inability to care about anything other than getting their dicks wet and then leaving. Not bothering to check on their partner and see if they had enjoyed it as well. Shit, I could understand finishing first. It happened to the best of us. But you still made sure she got hers before fucking off home. I sighed. “What have you done to me sugah? ,” I said quietly to myself as I rubbed my eyes. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and set an alarm for thirty minutes to make sure I would be awake when the pizza arrived. I shoved the phone under my pillow and closed my eyes, falling asleep to the comforting sound of her quiet breaths.

[peyton-warren]

Roses and Flame

Characters: plus size female reader, Captain Syverson

Pairings: Sy x Reader

Fandoms: Sandcastle, Henry Cavill characters

Word count: 2097

Type: fluffy birthday smut

Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. P in V, Oral (f receiving- this is Sy we are talkinga bout), Daddy Kink, ass appreciation

Summary: Sy has a birthday present waiting for his girl when she returns home. (The present is birthday sex)

Author's Note: @ellethespaceunicorn asked for a horned up Sy for thier birthday fic, and i get bonus points for mentioning thier big booty. Hopefully this fits the brief, hon. If it doesn't, lets blame it on me having covid. Thank you to @adulting-sucks for the beta.

Ask Box: Open

Masterlist

“Happy birthday, Pretty Girl,” the familiar rumbling voice cuts through the darkness of your shared home as you step through the door, flush from your evening out with friends and the few drinks you’d had.  

As you close the door, you hear the unmistakable sound of a lighter being sparked to life, and you are mesmerized to watch Sy light a single candle, illuminating his face.  Dropping your bag to your feet, you grin as you move towards each other in the darkened room, Sy softly humming the song appropriate for this day, his eyes dancing in the tiny flame.  “Happy birthday to you,” he finishes just above a whisper as he stops in front of you, holding a plate with a single cupcake on it.   

Grinning widely at him for a moment, you close your eyes and make your wish, before blowing out the flame, leaving you in darkness.  You giggle. “Now what, handsome?”

His empty hand expertly finds its way to your waist, settling on your hip, drawing your bodies closer as his other hand moves out from between you. Even in the darkness of the room, you could see his smile as you heard him settle the plate on a shelf behind you.  “Now I get to give the birthday girl her wish,” he smugly answers, narrowing the distance between you even more.  His wickedly playful smile makes you back up until your shoulders and heel come in contact with the built in bookshelves in your living room. Your hands land on his chest, not so much to push him away but just to feel him.  

“And you think you know what my wish was?” you ask, your voice fading as his lips brush yours, stray bits of his beard making your skin sing a tune all its own.  

Sy hums in the affirmative as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip.  “I know my girl.  Inside,” suggestiveness dripping from his lips like honey. “Annnd out.” His hands loudly land on your ample backside, grabbing two hands full and holding you fast to him as his lips finally meet yours.    

As your mouths share a fiery kiss, your hands skirt up his chest, over his shoulders.  One hooks on the back of his neck to steady you as you stand on your tiptoes, eager to meet his passionate kiss. Your other hand curls into the muscle around his clavicle, as you press closer to him.   

You feel his fingers on your ass begin to bunch the skirt of your dress up, inch by inch.  But as short and tight as the skirt is that you wore out to dinner with your girlfriends, it isn't  very long before you feel cool air caressing your delicate skin where your thighs met your ass.  Once it is fully bunched at your waist, one of his thick fingers traces the lace string that runs between your cheeks, choosing to pinch and pluck it, snapping it back against your skin, making you jump a little closer to him with a giggle.  

The hand on his shoulder slides over his chest, nails scraping over the soft material of his well worn shirt, making Sy hum into your mouth as his tongue twisted with yours.  Your fingers find their way under the shirt, skimming over his belly, making his skin jump at your touch.  You match his hum as the warmth of his skin fills your digits and you chase the hair on his abs, following down to his waist.  You hook your finger over the button at the top of his jeans, tugging enough to make his hips hiccup towards you.  The man hovering above you growls lowly against your lips, meanicingly as his tongue snakes back into his mouth. “Yup, I guessed what your wish was,” he eagerly admits, hooking his hands under your thighs, and hauling you up his front, rubbing as much of him as he could against as much of you. You hiss at the feel of your hardened nipples rubbing against him through the silky tight material of your dress. 

Turning with a few determined steps, Sy deposits you on the couch, his lips never leaving yours as he settles one knee between your legs, his body hovering over yours.  You hook your hand behind his neck, trying to draw him down on top of you, but he had other thoughts.  Wrapping his beefy hand around your wrist, he pulls your hand from him, holding it over your head as he moves to kiss your neck. His tongue and teeth conducted a concert against your delicate skin, in perfect harmony with his whiskers rubbing against you just this side of too much.  When you tried to move your hand to grab his head, his grip on your wrist firmed, not letting you do anything more than wiggle your fingers. “No, ma’am, stay,” he growls as his other hand deftly unties the straps of your top, pushing the silky material aside to get to his current destination.  With an appreciative hum, Sy dips his head between your breasts, depositing an admiring peck in the valley, while his beard teased and tempted your skin.  When you arch off the couch to try to get more of the sensation, he wraps his other hand around your hip, keeping you flat to the sofa while giving you a warning nip against your breast.   “Uh-hu,” he chides.

“But it's my birthday,” you half whine, a pout forming on your lower lip that he could sense even in the dark.  With a low chuckle, he raises his head and pecks the pout.  “And I am giving you my present, and you will be grateful for it,” he insists as his lips wrapped around one of your nipples sucking hard while swirling his tongue around the peak, making you whimper at the feeling.  

“Yes, Daddy,” you acquiesce.  

Tightening his grip on your wrist he smiles against you.  “Good girl, my Pretty Girl,” he mumbles into your breast, biting gently as he slips the material of your dress lower, followed closely by his mouth.  Skipping over the pooled dress, Sy settles on his belly on the couch, releasing your wrist.  “You keep that there, yes?” he instructs.  

“Yes, Daddy,” you grit, wanting to chase his head with your palm, wanting to feel his half grown out curls in between your fingers but follow his instructions.   You feel the heat of his breath against your mound as he answers you -“My good girl”- a half second before you feel his tongue tease along the scrap of lace between your legs.  Anticipating your movements, Sy hooks his arms over your hips, his forearms pinning you down as his hands reach for your breasts, squeezing them in tandem with the movement of his mouth against you.  Your whines pierce the air as you wither under him, twitching, trying to direct his movements to where you want him, but he is not having it, and doubles down on the pressure to your hips.  With a maneuver that still astounds you, the man uses his teeth and tongue to move your thong to the side allowing him access to your most sensitive flesh, his tongue lapping at the wetness he found there.  “Goddamn, beautiful,” he mutters against you as your taste hits his palette, as if it was the first time.  You feel the lower portion of the couch move, and you know he's rubbing his clothed cock against the cushions, a poor substitute for your flesh but the one he chose for now until he was satisfied that you were sated below him first.  

With an abruptness, Sy sits up yanking your thong from your body, possibly with a snapping noise.  Before you can object, he also hauls his shirt over his head, tossing them both to parts unknown before settling back between your thighs, with a sharp smack against one.  He hums low, following the smack with a gentle bite.  “Could eat you up, darlin,” he mutters into the stinging flesh of your leg.  You smile to yourself as your legs settle over his shoulders, feeling the heat of him pressing to the back of your thighs as his tongue swirled through your pedals, from back to front.  The tip finds your hidden pearl with practiced ease, sweeping over it, teasing it, making your fingers curl into the cushion above your head as your hips arched into him.  

Sy slides  one of his fingers through your slick, dancing at your entrance until your whimpers are at a fever pitch.  With a little extra flare, he slides two fingers into you, curling them just right to stork across the spot that made you see stars.  You whined happily as he began suckling on your clit, the flicks of his tongue matching with his fingers movements, working in perfect concert.  It doesn't take him long at all to make you forget yourself, as your hand brackets his head, nails curling into his hair.  “Yes,  yes, right there,”  you could feel him smirk against you as he doubled his efforts, expertly taking you apart with just his fingers and his tongue.  His assault does not cease until you are a quivering mess below him, melting into the cushions below you.   

Your brain is still fuzzy as you hear him chuckle, and you open your eyes to find him grinning down at you, his clean hand brushing hair back from your face as he looks at you adoringly.  “There she is,” He mutters, looking rather pleased with himself. In your haze you had missed him turning the light on the side table on low. 

“That all I get for my birthday?” you teased, leaning up to kiss him, pulling him in closer, nipping at his bottom lip as feeling trickled back into your body, into your limbs making them less limp and more movable. Tongues flared over each other as you kissed him, sated but not yet done.  

With a smirk you could feel against your lips, Sy stands beside the couch and peels his jeans off, taking his boxers with them, standing beside you as naked as the day he was born, his cock proudly extended, looking angry and weeping.  “Of course not, girl,” he growls.  Grabbing you by the hips, he effortlessly lifts you and flips you over, settling you on your knees.  Drawing your ass into the air, he spears his cock into you before you can even draw a breath.  “Goddamn, pretty girl, this recoil of yours,” he mutters, thrusting into you, making your ass jiggle and wiggle with each movement, his eyes entranced.  You didn’t even hide the giggle and pleased smile that it encouraged from you as you looked over your shoulder, watching him watch your ass.  It was always his favorite part of you, not your boobs, not your pussy.  Caleb Syverson was an ass man, your ass man.   

Catching you watching him, Sy growls loudly and pushes you forward, making you collapse onto the sofa, pressing you down with all of his weight.  As your thighs close, you both hiss at the tight sensation it adds to your coupling.  One arm braces on the back of the sofa, Sy buries his face in your hair on the back of your head, inhaling your intoxicating scent as he continues to attempt to fuck you through the living room furniture.  HIs mouth finds your ear, tugging on an ear lobe as his hips increase their pace at your hum of pleasure.  

“You with me, Pretty Girl?” he asks into your neck.  You could do little but nod as the pleasure spirals from your belly outward.   At the feel of his teeth against the back of your shoulder, you had no choice but to explode around his cock, your body responding hard to him, tightening around him, making him groan louder against your skin.  “Good.  Girl.”  he punctuates each word with a slam of his hips against your ass.  Grabbing the ass cheek towards the outside of the couch, Sy pushes  it aside to look at where you are  joined.  That is Sy’s undoing.  He growls between clenched teeth as he empties himself inside of you, rocking against you, eyes focused on the jello-like movement of your backside as he moves.  

With a sudden smack on your ass, he drapes his weight over you, tucking his arms on either side of you and in a way hugging you tight for a brief moment.  “Happy Birthday, sugar,” he mumbles to you before pecking your cheek. 

[doll-r-t]

My Baby Bear

Syverson x reader

TW: smut, suckling on breast, kind of sub!Sy

just a small drabble

Syverson is a sweet man. You would not have expected it, just looking at him. He had a reputation for fighting like a crazy bear. A myth, a legend, who could rip his opponent apart with just his bare hands. You are not one to believe in these kinds of things. However, seeing how broad he was you were tempted to.

When you first met you were polite but ultimately stayed away from him. You knew how army guys could be and growing up surrounded by men like that made you put your guard up immediately. You had feared that Sy was one of those men, who were sexist and thought he was the big bad alpha, getting into fights to prove that and that over time he would be violent towards you. So, you were nice to him but not interested.

However, you had caught Syverson’s eye, and over time you realized he was not a crazy angry bear. So, while all the men looked at him like an alpha in your eyes, over time, he was a big giant teddy bear. Always up for cuddles, carrying you over every mud puddle. It was a dream come true. You had always loved teddy bears since you were a girl. And you still had one, that you had gotten as a birthday present.

You loved cuddling into his chest, the thick coarse hair there tickling your nose making you giggle. He was so warm and his hands so big and rough it was astonishing how gentle he was with you. You often called him teddy, and when you were asked why you just grinned up at him like a child looking at ice cream. It was hardly visible under his big beard, but he would blush and just grumble.

When you were cuddling in bed, him on top of you, between your legs, snuggling into your neck and holding you close. You would caress your fingertips across his back and nuzzle into his hair. Whispering: “My baby bear”. When he was still awake, he would grumble and the first time he had pulled away giving you an unimpressed look. But you had not stopped so when he was tired and you held him like this calling him baby bear, he would hug you closer to him.

However, what surprised you was once when he was very sleepy and needy, he let out a whining sound. He pressed closer to you, wiggling down toward your chest. You had stayed still just waiting, watching what he was going to do. He nuzzled into your chest, the top you were wearing pulling down in the process. You continued caressing his hair. After a minute he looked up at you, his eyes clouded with sleep and need. You just nodded urging him to go on.

He buried his face in your chest, slowly making his way toward your right nipple. He latched onto it. Suckling it gently into his mouth, just enjoying your nipple in his mouth. He kept his teeth away. Normally he would nip at them, quite aggressively. He was just a big boob man.

Yet, this time he lazily suckled on your breast, whining occasionally when you were caressing his hair, and back. You lifted your left hand when he opened his eyes, some insecurity about what he was doing in them. You cupped his face and urged him on to continue. Tracing his jaw and cheek with your hand. “Good baby bear.” He hummed. “MY good baby bear.” When you empathized my he gave a whine, trying to grab at you wherever he could.

He continued to suckle on your breast, while slowly humping the bed, whining more and more. When both your nipples were sore, and it started to hurt you pulled him off a little. He was panting and moaning more and more, rubbing himself on the mattress. He did not go too far, and you saw that he was close to coming. You wiggled a bit lower underneath him. Pushing down the sweatpants until his pre cum leaking cock sprung free. It was hard to grab his cock as he did not help you at all. Still laying on you trying to mouth at you. Finally, you managed to grab him. You ushed your panties aside and wiggled lower to slowly rub him onto your dripping slit. He gave a loud whine and pushed his hips, seeking you out. You held in a chuckle never having seen him like this.

Finally, he entered you. He was as deep as he could in you, filling you up. You just held him for a bit, clenching your vaginal muscles and coaxing soft moans out of him. He nuzzled into you more, almost crushing you with his weight. He only pushed out a little bit before he could not stand not being fully in you. It took him only a couple of thrusts and your praise of him being a good baby bear. Finally, he came with a soft whine, and even then, he did not pull out just laying on top of you, suckling on your neck. Unable to not have a part of you in his mouth. You could feel how he got heavier and heavier and his breathing got more even that you moved. You moved up a bit more, so his head was on your chest, and not his full weight on you. You gave him small kisses on the top of his head and held him while he slept.

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[jamneuromain]

Mean Daddy Pt.2

Logan Syverson x Reader (You)

Word Count: 1k

Warning: Mean!Sy, established relationship, pussy spanking, aftercare turns into foreplay(?), oral (implied), a whole lot of teasing, fluff.

Summary: Your mean daddy comes home ... and you're in for the night :]

A/N: For the record, I'm not sorry at all for the cliffhanger (and stretching this short fic into three parts...) @gummydummy19 :3

Find Part 1 here

This isn’t exactly what you had planned for tonight.

Well, technically you did plan for some spicy evening events, but you did not expect Sy to make changes to the timetable plan, and spend all afternoon and evening on your bed.

… eh, spending all day on you.

And the worst part is, you have passed out twice now, and except for bathroom breaks and snack breaks, Sy hasn’t stopped playing the game he invented, which has the name “How many times can you cum”.

Spoiler alert, you’ve both lost count, but that doesn’t stop him from playing.

The clock strikes nine, and you feel there’s not one good bone in your body.

Thankfully, it’s another snack break.

While munching on apple slices that Sy cut for you, you’ve turned on your laptop for a show called Family Feud. Basically, the show interviewed random 100 people on the street with some questions, and came back with the top six answers. Whichever team answers more, wins.

It’s less exciting, compared to the detective/murder ones you often enjoy, but this is what Sy needs, something light and funny, instead of the sound of gunshots that would make his body tense up.

“Young man,” the show host Steve Harvey asks, “Name something your girlfriend would do to your face.”

The shy boy on the screen covers his twitching lips with his fist, “Uh… I’m gonna say sit on it.”

The audience on the screen roars out laughter, while you can’t help but giggle simultaneously.

A light squeeze of your tummy dials your giggling down, having you remember the large beefcake wrapping around you with his thick arms and legs.

“C’mon, Sy, you can’t tell me that’s not funny.” You burst out a new fit of giggles, tugging on his bearded chin, without turning around, “Besides,” You try your best to cross your legs discreetly, not getting his attention that your pussy is dripping again, because, for Christ’s sake, your lady parts have been through literal Hell tonight, “it’s not like we haven’t tried it before.”

“Hmm.” Is his grumbling reply.

You let out an exhale of relief. It’s not your fault that your mind is filled with pure filth of how he used to bury his head between your thighs…

The show Family Feud goes on, but you allow the jests and laughs to slip by your ear, since your brain is occupied with porn, and wet your lips when you can almost feel his beard leaving a burn that would remain for days…

The calloused hand moves from your belly to your tits, weighing them in his palm.

Sy’s low timbre ghosts your ears, “Penny for your thoughts, sugar.”

Your pebbled peak rolls under his fingers involuntarily. No word comes out of your mouth except for a small whimper. God, you want him to eat you out, pin you down with one hand over your stomach and one hand groping your tits, swinging your legs over his broad shoulders, bringing you to the edge of ecstasy as you chant his name like a prayer.

“Want to grind on my face?” He proposes with his sinful lips, circling one hand painfully close to your weeping core, while flicking your nipple with the other. “Be a good little slut and ride Daddy like you were told to?”

“Uh-Uh-huh.” You nod eagerly. Your pussy feels raw and used, as if someone (Sy) has set fire to it, yet you could not resist the temptation of reaching your limit once again – what can you say, you never learn from the pain.

Sy admires your ruined body for a brief second, cupping your mound with his palm. You buck your hip to meet his fingers, but to your frustration, he holds his position without wavering, neither meeting your silent plea nor denying it. “Shit,” a sly smile hangs on the corner of his lips, “that desperate, huh? Fucking my hand like that? Poor baby.”

“Sy,” you whimper, struggling in his tightened grip, begging him with your teary eyes, “want you to kiss it and make it better, please Daddy.”

“Aww,” he coos softly, kissing the top of your head, “I like the sound of that.”

Smug bastard.

“Use your big-girl words, darlin’.” Sy traces a bead of sweat that disappears between your tits. His hand glides down your body, sneaking it under your thigh before pulling them wide open, earning a surprised squeal from your lips.

“Want t-to ride your face, Daddy.” You stutter as he lowers his head to kiss the carotid artery on the side of your neck, your fingers dig into his veiny arms that hold your thigh, “Want-ah!”

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” He feigns his curiosity, pretending he has no idea that he has just smacked your sensitive bundle of nerves, “Cat got your tongue? Can’t hear you though,” Sy smacks your pussy again, making you nearly jump from his embrace, “Don’ really know what you’re talking about, sugar.”

The harshness of the slaps adds to the numbness and the sting of your ruined hole, coating his hand with a shin of juices, which he wipes on the side of your thigh, glistening with the evidence of the betrayal of your body, even when it still hurts from the overstimulation during previous hours.

“Daddy,” you whine in embarrassment and a tinge of desperation, “Daddy, pleaaase.”

Sy chuckles behind you, manoeuvring himself to your front, pressing a bit harder on your stomach to have you lie down. Kissing both of your thighs, he spreads them wider than before – wide enough to fit a grown man and his shoulders in between – and trails a line of soft pecks on your lower abdomen, and finally, on your quivering pussy.

“Better make those pretty noises for me, darlin’,” Sy whispers while nibbling on your skin, lifting your thighs onto his shoulders - his favorite position. His tone drips a hint of darkness, both a threat and a promise, shooting a shiver down your spine, “If you ain’t screaming, you ain’t creaming.”

[ellethespaceunicorn]

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Title: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out 

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: Syverson x Female!Reader 

Word Count: 951

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

Warnings: apocalypse AU, accidental pregnancy, language

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

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me 

My Masterlist  

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

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

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

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

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

‘Is she alive?’ For now, yes. 

‘Did she go alone?’ Technically, no. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should have been more careful—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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