#dark!syverson

[xsapphirescrollsx]

The Patron

Written: Aug 11 2020

Paring: dark!Captain Syverson x Black Female Reader Summary: You work at a library and meet a seemingly friendly patron. >:) Warnings: 18+, smut, stalking, intimidation, assault, non-consensual sex. Proceed with caution. A/N: My bff @titty-teetee requested a Dark! Captain Syverson story! I hope you like it wifey! <33 Also I gave him a first name but it’s only referenced once in the story.

A bright sunny fall day gusted cold wind at your feet and blew leaves around you on your walk back into the city library. Opposite to the tone beyond the glass doors the smell of paper and scribbles welcomed you back into the fold. With your lunch break over, you returned back behind the counter, took off your coat and hung it on the hook. And then, refreshed, you continued finishing the update for the catalog of fairy tales.

You intended to wrap up the project in the next few hours. All that was left was sorting the cards back under the topic at hand. In a room off from the greeting counter you stood behind clear windows. Behind a desk with stacks of already organized cards you began to sort them by year. It was quiet work, but enjoyable as it offered the chance to zone out on a monotonous task. 

You weren’t at it long before the interruption. Looking up passed the front greeting area a man stood. He was in conversation with Thomas the library technician. Your eyes focused on the man’s face, handsome but woolly with a thick dark beard and a head of wind blown hair that was loosely curly. While relaxed as he spoke with Thomas he kept his hands in his pockets as he casually glanced around until his eyes landed on you through the glass.

His smile stayed as your eyes met his, you kindly smiled back before returning to your work. Of course, it wasn’t long after that moment that Thomas was already behind the counter and approaching your work room.

“Patron here doesn’t seem to know how a library works,” he whispered. And you glanced back behind him, the man's eyes were locked on the two of you. 

“Anyway, he needs resources on ponds,- I have a lot of software and media to unload. Do you mind?”

“You’re lucky I’m nearly done.” 

Thomas’ grimace cracked into a grateful smile and stepped aside to let you pass. Walking through the door you were met with a bright eyed closed mouth grin from the man as he followed your path from the room. Coming around the side of the counter his hands emerged from his pockets as he spoke with his hands.

He wrinkled his fingers into one another humbly and leaned over toward you. “I’m lost,” He said gently.

He was tall, though not a giant, but his shoulders and frame definitely took up your point of view. 

“How may I help you?”

His hands returned to his pockets deflating the thick wind jacket a bit. “Ponds, I need a few books on the construction, let’s start there.”

You smiled with understanding and without even having to look it up you remembered an author with a series of books. You gestured for the man to follow and he did so, quite closely. 

“I bet you’ve worked here for a while.” he said softly. He was next to you, or as near as possible as you wound around tables towards the back shelves. 

“Oh, I’ve been here for about five years now.”

He tsked his teeth and sucked in hard. “Wow, who knew such a small town would have had an opening.”

His presence was intimidating, to say the least. It was a nagging feeling. He stayed behind you, his presences invading your space. And with the rows of books as a backdrop to him it was hard to forget you had a way out at the other end of the towering shelves. 

“Exactly, I’m lucky to be here.”

He smacked his lips, “Well I’m glad you’re here.”

It was an odd comment, especially for the location. The consideration that perhaps he was hitting on you in an awkward manner didn’t elude you. 

You stopped in front of the shelves, on your tiptoes you reached for the last ascending shelf. But he was there, his arms longer, fingers that could grab further pulled the book out. 

“This one?” he asked. And once again there were only inches in between you and him. “Everything You Need To Know About Ponds?” he said with cheer.

You were looking at the cover of the book but from your peripheral it was completely apparent he was staring. It would have been a normal interaction but the heat rising from your neck to your face left you flustered in his presence.

He leaned in, smelling like a manly soap of some kind and whispered. ��Does it really know everything?” in a hushed amusement.

You looked up and his blue eyes were staring back at you, they were icy except for one that had a brown freckle within it. You couldn’t remember the last time a man was this close to you that wasn’t employed here. Far too long, and far too uncomfortable you took a half step back. 

“Well, there are others up there. Grab a couple with varying topics, it will give you a more broad understanding. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

The man smiled and leaned back while still watching you. “If I think of something, you’ll be the first to know.”

With that you nodded and walked back to your station. Though you were not there long until the man was once again approaching the counter. No one else was there but you to help him borrow the book so you did so. Accessing the computer you pulled up the registry. 

“Card please?” you asked.

He pulled out his wallet and handed it to you. Still with a pleasant expression he stared at you as you continued the process of loaning the book out. 

“Sloan Syverson, correct?”

He nodded. “My friends call me Sy, though. That means you too.” 

You glanced from the computer to his face. Confirming his tone was just as you suspected from earlier though he was no longer smiling, but his eyes were staring at you with something unspoken. 

“Go on, say it.” he encouraged you sweetly.

Instead of saying no, you smiled uneasily. “Sy?”

He suddenly burst with a trustworthy smile, “There you go.” 

You continued to process his order and was grateful for the screen instead of looking him directly in the eyes. 

But what disturbed you the most was what he said next. His voice was still friendly, overly so to the point you looked back to him. 

“I want to take you back to my house.” You were shocked, but still in the motion of handing him back his card.

“I want to lick at what’s between your legs.”

“Can you be a good girl?” he paused, watching your eyes growing wider. “I bet you will once I’m through with you.”

The man named Sy slid his card back in his wallet. He looked back at you with a soft smile across his lips, he winked too. And then he picked up his books and began to walk toward the doors leaving you still watching his back as he walked out.

Nothing much happened after the day Sy left. Much to your irritation the head librarian didn’t see him as much of a concern.

“We get all kinds in here. Part of the job.”

Bullshit. You had been here for five years and never once until two weeks ago had you ever encountered a patron such as Sy. Even so, you pushed the moment to the back of your head and pulled through work in a haze of lukewarm worry. He would be back.

And right on time, there he was walking across the space of the library to the section you had shown him. Unfortunately it was near where you were too. Fighting against the policies of the library you had to acknowledge him but didn’t want to. So it came out as a half-hearted crooked grin toward him. 

You began to look busier by stacking more books in your arms. Slinking back toward the next aisle he suddenly said quietly. “I think I know where to go now.” You looked at him as he passed the end of the row you were about to disappear into and he winked. 

You knew there was no one else other than archiving staff in the building. It was your turn this morning anyway to be in charge of borrows and returns. The pep talk ensued as you began to quickly shelve the books. Check him out fast, don’t make eye contact, interact with passable kindness.

The string of worry was seemingly endless, winding its way up your spine, curling around your stomach and chilling your bones. He was handsome, appeared decent but when he opened his mouth something other wholly dangerous was presented. You couldn’t shake the feeling, even now with a counter between you and him. An overwhelming sensation that you had to go and get away drove up your worry now into anxiety pointing at one single fact. You were not safe.

When you grabbed for his card, tight muscles caused the slick piece of plastic to fumbled to the counter. “Easy there, precious.”

You heard him clearly, but even so his voice was a blurry stain in the back of your head to the urge to hurriedly get him out of your space. 

Entering his information faster than you had ever done so before you crossed the card back to him. And you become eerily concerned when you narrowly escape his fingers grazing over yours.

“No need to be nervous. I’ll be gentle.”

The only comment was no comment to his flirtations. Stiff and noticeably uncomfortable at his bright smiling face, you refused to look at him directly and simply nodded when you completed the transaction. One step further from giving him nothing more you turned away from the counter with “Have a nice day.”

And you did not turn back around until you were sure he was gone. Finally, taking a whole and entire deep breath you braced against the counter and stared around the library. 

You had to be going crazy, right? 

This had gone too far. First, a week ago at the store you saw him there. Maybe he had always gone to this store, at that particular time. Of course it was one of two grocery stores in town but now, you knew what he looked like and definitely noticed him. And then, a few days from that, at the general store where you shopped for cheap household goods, he was there. Clearly he had entered after you because his cart was empty. He wasn’t staring at you but there was a distinct feeling of chase. And yesterday, after work about 5:30 a big blue truck was the only other vehicle in the lot other than yours. As you drove by it by the only exit it wasn’t hard to catch the silhouette of his hair and big shoulders. 

But this, your coffee shop, your favorite out of the way drinking hole was invaded. Now you knew he was following you. This was your main spot, you always came here for lunch, had an iced coffee and caught up with your messages. 

You sat in your regular corner with your back to the wall, front facing the door and wide widows to give you a complete picture. Sy stepped in while running a hand through thick black curly hair. It then rubbed over his bushy beard as he stepped up to the counter to order. 

Why was he here? Here??

Your hand down by your thigh immediately tightened around your jeans. Flexing with unreleased worry you glanced back down at your phone when he started to turn in your direction. Quickly you gathered up your things and stood up. 

Walking far away from him as you could, you strode toward the shop's door. “It was nice to see you again,” he called from behind you. 

Gripping the handle hard, and on impulse from your years of retail service you turned to him. He was smiling again in that sweet, pleasant way that did little for his unemotional eyes. Confirming your fears, absolutely telling you without a doubt he knew who you were and why he was there, you pushed on the door. You said nothing back and walked out of the shop. 

------ -------------------------------- ------------------------- ----

You hung up the phone and dipped your head into your hand. You weren’t crying but close to it as you tossed the phone back into your purse. 

Calling the police was the correct reaction. But now you doubted the path to how you came to it after the officer told you there was little that could be done. He wasn’t technically breaking any laws. “There’s no law against being in the same place as you,” they had said.

But it was so much more than that and you knew it. 

The day at work passed in a blur of books, in-take, and piles of cards and with it you prayed every time the front doors opened that it wasn’t him. Even when you walked across the lot that evening your car was the only one today. Maybe you were seeing things. Or better yet, maybe he had given up.

A short, uneventful dinner of packaged quick noodles settled your stomach enough to lay down after your shower. Your comforter of baby blue fading into sunset orange like a crisp fall evening invited you to climb in. And when your eyes closed and rolled to the back of your head sleep did not come. Turning in bed something papery hit your left hand. 

You pulled it out and with the light from the pale light of the street lamp you held it up above your head. Something was written on with big bold letters. Sitting up, with your eyes directly on it you read the note.

I love you. Precious one, you smell so good too. Look up baby, your man is here.  

The paper began to vibrate between your fingers. Hands trembling, a worried tickle popping up along your spine connected the dots. Something moved across your bed room and you cursed yourself for always sleeping in such a dark house. You were in the only light of the room while the closet at the other end of the room was in complete darkness. But there was more, a figure blacker than the shadow was moving, growing bigger as it came forward.

This was a dream, your mind yelled. Wide eyed you sat there, shallow breaths fell from your lips until finally a naked man came into view. Tears poured then as he came fully into the light. Sy stood at the end of your bed, shadows cut across his muscular body and face. Though there were dark rings where his eyes should have been the corners were pinched as he began to smile.

You scrambled across the bed but not fast enough. As soon as you got to your knees you were thrown back to the bed. He was all over you holding you down with a strength you had never known. Besides his power, he was heavy as he pressed his chest against yours and rested his hips between your legs.

“Come’on girl-” Sy began but you tried to kick, started to scream but he shut your mouth. “Now, now baby. Listen..I’m not leaving anytime soon. Okay?” You mumbled and then yelled again through his fingers. “Shhh..all that ain’t going to help none.”

“You have to let me go..” you blubbered past his fingers.

He chuckled, “That’s not gunna work. I’ve been watching you for months. We’re so perfect for each other. You can’t cook to save your life, but I can, baby. You don’t even go out, have friends..well I’ve never had really close people either. You’re alone and so am I. Now we have each other.”

His smile dropped at the same time his hand slid from your lips. Enveloping you within the incredible heat of his body he wrapped his hand around your throat. He licked his lips, and then kissed you lightly. “I even have a home for us. Took out most of my savings but it’s yours..I’m yours.”

He kissed you again and didn't stop there.

He suddenly shifted to the edge of the bed and pulled out a bundle of thin rope. You wrestled with him, but not for long. Easily he snatched your wrists together and then attached the rope to your intricate wooden headboard. How he touches you next was like your body was fragile ground or had finally achieved some great feat. Grazing with his finger tips from your throat and over your tee-shirt Sy bundled it in his hands and ripped it open over your breasts. 

You used the headboard, and your weight tied to it as leverage enough to bring your body up and kick at his ribs. He hunched over in pain, but only for a second. And when he returned Sy grabbed you by the throat again and smacked you hard across the face. Blinding white coated your vision.

“Baby, I’m sorry about that..- but you’re really gunna wanna hold still if you want to feel good.”

Shaking now until skin is tight and muscles rigid you can't collect your thoughts. Your momentary lapse is his success, Sy’s hands stay flush against your naked body as he descends to your underwear. Within an instant he has them off, his big arms pressing down on your inner thighs as he buries his face between your folds. 

With disgusting accuracy he rolled his tongue around the nub of your clit. Staying there, sucking and licking at it as if he had always done so. You turn your face away, an escape maybe, but you hoped it expressed that you didn’t want this. When his tongue entered you though, you jerked and he continued to taste you anyway.

He brought himself back up after, didn’t bother to wipe his face as he kissed you again. The air pushes out of you as he falls to his elbows and slips into you. Heavy breaths waft over your face, his huffing grows harder the faster he pumped. His large hands hold you down more above your armpit tightly, rocking into you, pinning you down and there was no escaping Sy. 

He slides into you over and over easily, spreading you, taking you. “I won’t leave you,” Sy keeps pumping, his beard scraps over your chin and jaw. He kisses the apple of your cheek. Then opens his mouth, licks there greedily tasting your tears, and then bites gently. Holding your skin between his teeth he thrusts into you.

He says your name in such a delicate manner that it has you turning your eyes to his face. He said it again, this time dragging out of his throat and you feel him hardening more inside of you.  

He stared at you dead in the eyes as he whispered a promise. “You are mine now,” He purred your name again. Pumping long and deep like he was making love to a long lost soulmate. He pecked your cheek in a trail down to your mouth. “I’ll love you forever…”

“And I won’t leave you..” 

The next morning you awoke to the smell of stale skin. Bruised wrists were now free, your mind begged your body to get up from the bed. Naked from the waist down, with the rags of your tee-shirt clinging to your arms you looked around. Sy wasn’t there, the bedroom door was open and you didn’t dare think to leave that way. 

Refocusing on the familiar surrounding, naturally you gazed at the window. Your whole home was on the ground floor. With horror, wrestling from somewhere in the kitchen got you up fast from the bed. You ran to the corner of the room, slid open the window and pushed out the screen. 

“Where’re you going baby?” 

His voice is the catalyst, scratching at the base of the window, throwing your body through it and hitting the ground with a scream. It doesn’t stop even when you run through the yard, to the next yard across the street, to the door of your neighbor. 

The next five hours carry through you. A smudge of memories really, talking with the police, going to the hospital to finally return to your home. Walking into the bedroom. Mechanically going about changing the bedding like nothing ever happened. But your eyes caught the threads of the rope snagged in the creases of your headboard. You finger them barely feeling anything. 

But that wasn’t true. Hunched over on your bed you stared at the strands. Memories too hard to fight back devastated your resolve. Fat tears rained, the hard wall blocking your emotions crumbled as you dropped to the bed.

This day marks the first of many days of heartbreak.

7 months later

Two years in prison wasn’t near enough. You knew that, the police knew that. And yet through a judicial technicality he eluded most of it. The person you were before Sy was slowly returning, though different still because who are we if nothing but a collection of past events. You hadn’t expected this though. 

You had settled for what life had for you now. The events belonged to you, it was your story after all, that continued to unfold since meeting Sy. He could fuck right off. 

Delicately, you stroked your big belly soothing the kicking within. You half wondered if it could feel your fear like it could hear your heartbeat. Staring at your house from the drive way you decided to continue that mind set of stanch balance at any positive moment you could get. 

You process what it means to have him back out in the world while you put away groceries. Cans in the pantry, spices in the rack and all you can think about is the moment he returned. 

Because he would. 

Carrying vegetables to the sink for washing your eyes catches an object on the counter. For a few seconds you wonder if this is the moment. Because on the surface a knife sat there that you couldn’t remember putting there. By God, you know pregnancy has brought on terrible side effects including memory blips. But this, it was the longest you had and it was sitting with the handle pointed out to the room. 

“That’s my baby isn’t it?”

You jerked so hard at the voice you dropped the bunch into the sink and gripped it like the house itself shook. With tension in your back so tight it should have broken it, you turned around slowly. It hits you hard that you were right, he would have never left you be.

Disbelieving your eyes you can only manage a simple shake of your head. Sy stepped into the kitchen with heavy booted footfalls. A sob shook from your chest, even though you had sworn to yourself he would never see your emotions again. 

“Precious girl, I’ve missed you so much.” Sy kept walking, your heart threatened to stop.

He was staring at you with that familiar kind face, and sincere eyes from when you had first met him. As if he were seeing a buddy after so much time had passed and he smiled genuinely despite your terror.

In front of you now with his powerfully built frame blocking your escape he whittled at the rim of his cap with his fingers and thumbs. 

“Why’d you have to go and do that? We love each other..I love you.”

If there was ever a moment to react it was now. You blinked quickly and cleared your throat before you spoke. “I don’t know who you are.” you said with your voice twisting out of your throat.

He tossed his cap on top of the knife behind your left side. He leaned in putting one hand on each side of you. He tilted his head, blue eyes roaming over your face with a quizzical expression. 

“Sure you do…” You flinched when his hand left the counter, he dipped down past your belly and shoved his hand under the hem of your dress. You stiffened immediately even though he easily slid his hand up to the fabric of your underwear. 

He bit his lip, glanced down to where he was rubbing his fingertips over your mound. “I’ve been here--you whined like a little puppy when I stuck it in.”

He doesn’t stop even though now his eyes are drifting to the countertops and floor. “You’ve changed shit around.” 

His eyes fall back to yours, kindly with the love he professes. “Threw some out too but you kept this didn’t you?” Sy’s hand leaves your warmth, travels up underneath your dress to your protruding stomach and spreads his fingers wide over it. 

“I told you...I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”

Shivering entirely from the inside out, your voice came out in a whisper. “It’s my baby..”

“Oh come on now sweetheart..we made that together. We’re as good as married…”

The situation spiraled as his hands, both now, were under your dress kneaded your plump breasts. His eyes darken, it was the first time you had ever seen them do this. You slap at his face, hard and move to the left toward the knife. He picks up fast at just what you have planned. Snatching up your wrists before you could even touch it he turned you around forced you face down. 

Sy was inside of you before there was time to know what he was going to do. You reached for the knife again only for him to grab it and throw further down the counter. 

Worst nightmare come true, you are back to where you started with the kind patron. Sobs unfold from your lips. 

“It’s okay, precious…” He tangles your hair in his hand, wretches your neck back, your body too closer to his chest. He bends you back, belly heaving back and forth as he forces his way in repeatedly. “I’m here now..”

You brace against the sink as his hand finds its way back under your dress. He presses it against your stomach, holding you by the hair, pulling you back and gripping your stomach he fucked you hard and fast. 

Grunting, his whispers come out ground and rough around his teeth. “I’m yours baby,” He hastily moaned as soon as you went to move away, but it doesn’t help you. It only benefits him by freeing up more space so he could penetrate further. 

“Tried to put me-- away didn’t you...bi--bitch,” 

Sy’s voice growled and rolled into a drawn-out curse. His hands shoved at you until he had your hips at his mercy. At your forced submission you can feel the muscles in his thighs at yours slapping and sweating. Your sobs rattled with the vicious rhythm. 

“I told you..--wasn’t going.”

To the hilt, Sy drove in with an anguished hiss and went still.“Fuck, sweetheart.”

He slipped from you as he pulled at your shoulders forcing you to turn back around toward him. Both breathing hard, he held your head in his hands. Frightful goosebumps ignite where he touches you, breaths on you. “I love you..I do.” 

He pried your head up to him and kissed you. Scratching his beard over your lips and chin he sticks his tongue in too hoping you would respond. When you don’t he continues to squeeze your head prompting you to stiffly reciprocate the kiss. 

“You’re coming with me.” he says between his tender pecking. “I’ll help you pack.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “I can’t wait to start our life together honey. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Part 2 can be found on Archive of Our Own!

[thezombieprostitute]

💐Zombie's Bouquet Event💐

A bouquet for @chibijusstuff featuring: Syverson; Rivals to Lovers; Omegaverse; Dark. Hope you enjoy!

"It ain't right," Syverson growled as you patched him up. "An Omega in her 30's, like you, should be home taking care of a bunch of pups."

"Well, Captain," you report through gritted teeth. "If I were doing that, you and your platoon would be out the best damn medic in the army."

He grunts at your response. The numbers don't lie, you are one of the best medics. Doesn't mean that, as an Alpha, he has to like it. Those damn suppressants you take might hide your full scent but he's been around you enough to know you'd smell delectable in a heat.

You don't know this but whenever you're missing an item of clothing it's because Sy's stolen it. Your scent, the thought of you begging for his knot, they're the only things that help him get through his rut. But you're too damn stubborn to know your place is beneath him. 

He will get you. He knows it. He'll claim you, knock you up, and you'll be grateful like the good Omega he'll turn you into. He just needs to wait for your supply of suppressants to run out. If he's done the math right, it'll be just in time for his rut.

[thezombieprostitute]

There's definitely a time in my life when I would've just been "this is my life now. At least I get a puppy out of it."

Basically Gumdrop is painfully relatable.

Follow You Anywhere 3

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

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

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

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

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: thank you all for reading this one.

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting 'part 2?' is not feedback.

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

You grip the container of uneaten French toast as you make the interminable walk across the restaurant. It’s as if you can hear the death knell calling you to the scaffold. Sy follows behind you like a lion at hunt.

He reaches over your shoulder as he comes close and pushes the door open ahead of you. You step outside, stilling a jitter in your hands as your eyes blear in the sunlight. You’re all out of ideas. Your groceries are in his truck and the meal he bought you is in your hands. He’s entrapped you with sustenance.

His hand brushes your lower back as he ushers you towards his truck. You’re too terrified to speak. This is the moment where you give into fate. Your fear of saying no has finally done you in. Well, how long could you survive without a spine?

He pulls open the truck door and you feel his gaze on you. You can’t bring your own above his chest. His broad, muscular chest. He’s so strong and you’re so weak and oh god!

“You okay?” He asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Mhmm,” you hum and balance the container in one hand as you grab onto the door interior and haul yourself up. He puts a hand on your hip to steady you before you quickly swing into the seat.

He shuts the door gently and you shudder. You rest the container in your lap and pull the seat belt across your body. You buckle in as he gets on the driver’s side. You’re in a strange trance, helpless to the world around you as if you just watch it move around you. He says something and you nod again but you’re not sure what he said.

He pulls out, placing his hand on the headrest behind you as he cranes to see behind him. He straightens the wheel and settles into his seat. He flips on the radio, filling the static silence, though the music sounds far away.

As he steers onto the street and comes to the first corner, an epiphany chills you. He didn’t ask where you live. Either he’s not taking you home or he already knows.

You look back and forth, taking in all your surroundings. As he turns away from your building, you make note of streets and landmarks. You want to be able to remember them all as the former fear comes true. You’re not going home.

He is completely unbothered by his daylight abduction. You wonder if he’s done this before. He seems so sure of himself that you think he might have. Is he even really a soldier?

He rolls the wheel with his thumb and swerves into another lot. You look ahead at the marquee with paw prints stamped across it. A groomer?

“You wanna come in and meet her?” Sy’s voice breaks through the ice that’s encased you.

You look at him, still too stunned to really understand what’s going on. Her?

You say yes but it doesn’t feel like your voice is working. As he undoes his seat belt, you do the same. He’s smiling. He’s happy. Surely that means he won’t murder you. Not right away. He definitely wouldn’t bring you to a pet groomer to do so.

Unless it’s some cover-up. A shell of a business used to cover up misdeeds. Like the mafia. Oof, you watch a lot of television.

You get out parallel to him and meet him near the door. Again, he gallantly opens it ahead of you. You enter and he calls above you in greeting to the woman behind the counter.

“She ready?” He asks.

“She is,” she trills back, “and she was so good.”

“Mmm, yeah, good,” he approaches the counter and takes out his wallet, “she can be nippy.”

“She’s a darling.”

The woman calls back through the open doorway behind her before turning her attention to the till. She keys in to the system and Sy pays in bills. She accepts them and he tells her to keep the change. As weird as everything’s been about this morning, this is the most inexplicable part.

“Here she is,” another woman emerges from the back with a leash in her hands. You catch a glimpse of blonde hair before she comes around with a prancing German shepherd. 

“Aika,” Sy squats to greet the dog buoyantly, letting her sniff his beard before he stands again. Both turn to face you. You glance between them nervously. The dog nears you with a wiggle snout. “She likes you,” he assures.

You hold out an open palm and she smells it before scraping her tongue across it. He reaches to pet her roughly, shaking her fresh coat.

“You got the green out,” he says over his shoulder.

“Oh, we did,” the woman scoffs, “she looks amazing.”

“Well,” he wraps the leash around his hand, “we should head out. She’s restless.”

“Okay,” you babble dumbly and head for the door.

It’s your turn to hold it as you emerge and lodge your foot in front of the frame to keep the door open. Sy walks out proudly and Aika dutifully walks at his side to the truck. He opens the back and she hops in. You linger by the bumper before getting in yourself.

As he claims the driver seat, he gives a whistle through his teeth, “Aika, nose to yourself.”

You peek back as the dog retreats from your groceries. You almost forgot. 

“Right, let’s go home,” Sy declares, though you don’t know if he’s talking to you or the dog.

Home? Who’s home? His? 

If you could breathe, you’d be hyperventilating. Your head begins to pulse as he turns at the first lights. You inhale. He’s driving towards your apartment but that’s not any better than the alternative. That’s your home, not his. Perhaps he only means to drop you off before returning to his own.

You manage to eke out each breath, slow but enough to keep you from passing out. The streets grow more familiar and as he rolls onto yours, the tension only heightens. You’re not in the clear yet.

He drives into the lot and parks in a visitor spot. He turns off the engine. Shoot.

“Alright, what d’ya think works best? You grab Aika, I grab the groceries?” He suggests.

You just stare at him. What is happening? He doesn’t wait for a response before he gets out. You can’t give him one.

Numbly, you climb out of the truck and stand frozen on the tarmac with your breakfast in hand. He comes around and takes the end of Aika’s leash as she jumps down. He hands it to you.

“She’ll listen to ‘heel’ or ‘sit’,” he explains, “pretty much anything.”

You accept the looped end and wait as the dog patiently hovers beside you. Sy takes the grocery bags and spins on his heel. Confidently, without any hesitation, he marches towards your building. He has the certain type of staunch gait that assures you of his profession. You don’t think he lied about that.

You follow behind him, much less certain. Aika keeps at a pace, not tugging a single bit. She’s as obedient as he says. As you get to the door, you let the leash slip onto your wrist and fish out your keys. Are you really letting this mad man inside?

Yes, yes you are.

You take the elevator and just stare at the doors until they open. It puts you more on edge that Sy seems to know exactly where to go. Down the hall at the very end. Your key slides in much too easy again and you turn it as your last defense gives way.

You step aside and let him in. You watch him enter and just stare. You drop the leash as he goes into the kitchen to put down the bags. He comes back to you to remove his boots and shuts the door. He frightens you as he flicks the toe of your mary jane flats.

He reaches for Aika and unhooks her leash. You look down as he takes the container from your hands. He is all too quick to welcome himself in.

“I’ll put everything away,” he steps past you again, “you just relax. You got a stream planned tonight?”

You nearly choke on your answer; no. You bend to undo the straps of your shoes and step out of them. You glance over as he opens the fridge.

Aika begins her exploration of your apartment, sniffing along the mat and into the front room. You wring your hands as you near the doorway and stare at Sy. He reaches into the bag, unpacking each purchase and tucks it away in a cupboard or the fridge.

“Um, it was kind of you to drive me home but…”

“This is a nice place,” he interrupts you as he snaps the cupboard shut, folding up the first bag with a crinkle. 

“Yeah, uh, I guess. But what I was saying, I have some work tomorrow–”

“Oh yeah, don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way. Let you get your editing done.”

Silence. Frightening realisation. He has no plans to leave.

“Er, do you live around here?” You gulp, your throat painfully tight.

“Nah, actually, I never been here before I found you,” he explains breezily. “It’s not too bad though.”

“What do you… what?”

“Yeah, well, they sent me home but you know, without a home,” he says as he folds the second bag, putting both in the recycling. “It’s hard. You give yourself to the forces but they don’t always give back.” He turns to you, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck, “I’ll grab my bag outta the truck later. All that grease made me sleepy.”

He slaps his stomach and nears. You back up to let him past. He strokes your cheek as he crowds you. You’re quaking.

“I waited so long for you, sweetie, hard to believe I’m finally here, huh?” You back up against the door. He tilts his head and squints, “what’s going on? You’re acting strange.”

“I… I just… I think the sugar upset my stomach,” you lie.

“Ah, you should come lay down, we can watch something,” he offers.

“No, I should catch up on chores,” you say breathily.

“Hm, well, you change your mind and you can join me,” he winks and runs his thumb along your cheek.

He strides away as you remain paralysed. How is this happening? How have you let this happen? He’s invaded your life so quickly and you’re certain he has no plans of retreat.

The couch springs squeak as he flops onto it with a sigh. You glance over as he swipes up the remote to your forty-inch and flicks it on. Aika comes up next to him and rests her head on his middle. He lays with his head against one armrest and his feet propped over the other. He pets her as he flips through the menu.

Do you call the police? Would they even believe you? You can barely believe it yourself.

You flit into the kitchen and stir around in your cross-body bag. You pull out your phone and hover your thumb over the emergency call button. You just stare, hovering, uncertain. You don’t want to get in trouble but this is an emergency, isn’t it?

“Sweetie,” Sy calls to you, shaking you out of your stupor. “Can you grab me something to drink? I’m parched.”

You put your phone down. You don’t even know what you would say. ‘Hello, can you send the police? I let a man into my apartment willingly and he’s using my Prime subscription.’ Really? ‘Oh, and he’s a veteran who just returned from combat’. That will go over well.

“Um, water or guava juice?” You cringe as you chime back. You don’t accept this but you don’t know how to reject him. He could break you in half and from the fleeting surges of his temper, you don’t doubt that he would.

“Water’s fine, thanks, sweetie,” he replies.

You focus on the simple task of filling a glass from the faucet filter. You carry it into the front room and place it on one of the clam shell coasters. He sidles up against the armrest and reaches for it. Aika lays dutifully before the couch.

“I don’t mind if ya do make a few videos, I’m not shy,” he offers before he swigs half the glass.

“Um, no, I don’t have anything… to shoot,” you wipe your sweaty palms on your overalls.

“Right, I think I’ll finish this episode then hop in the shower. Been a long day already, y’know?”

You just nod. It has been a long day. A ludicrous one. 

You really hope this is a nightmare. Please, wake up soon.

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse Masterlist

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Status: In Progress

Character Guide

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

Moonlight & Fang Masterlist

Fantasy/Little Red Riding Hood/ABO AU

Alpha!Jax Teller, Dean Winchester, Captain Syverson, Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes x OC Omega!Selene/Red

Their sweet words fall like bittersweet honey. Lacing pain and menace under a sugary facade. Coating everything. Sticky, sweet and unthreatening. All earth and warmth. The best disguise for unsuspecting beings, with open hearts and damaged souls. A succulent entree for her sharp teeth to feast upon. For she is made of moonlight and fang. All charm and soulful eyes. While hiding an all encompassing darkness inside. Sinful lips with a deadly tongue. Patiently waiting for her prey to become safe and lucid. Drunk off of her words and lingering touch. When their red hoods fall, exposing the softness of their throats. Her eyes become bigger, as her hunger and lust for flesh grows. Just one bite and she'll change your life.

My, oh my.

What big fangs you have my dear.

Word Count: 21k

Warnings: 18+ Only

Original Female Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Blood and Violence, Werewolves, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves, Alpha/Omega, Morally Ambiguous Character, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Fluff

Chapters:

Little Red

The Orphan

The Hunter

The Blacksmith

The Rogue

The Forgotten Prince

Balance

[navybrat817]

Lovelies, please send good vibes that I can get my first Syverson ficlet written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor . 🙏

[golden-ariess]

Help ✨

I've been gone for so long I've missed so many good fics! Any MCU AU or other characters from actors in the MCU (Steve, Andy, Ari, Bucky, Sy dark or non dark fics!)

Please recommend some of your favorite works you've read!

Or tag one of your favorite writers!!

[missacidburn928]

Ch. 1 of Moonlight & Fang is now live!

Hello Heathens!

It's time to meet Little Red.

Where do I even begin? “Once Upon A Time” seems far too classy for a tale such as mine. 

Although my story may seem vaguely familiar, it should be noted that there is darkness abound here. The line between hero and villain is not so black and white. You never truly know the depths to which one will submerge themselves in the abyss to be free. 

Stature and status truly have no merit in this place. For once you step upon this long forgotten land, tempted by the allure of the fates, your life will be forever changed...

Continue

[littlefreya]

So I've been reading a lot of dark romance books on Kindle and that has sparked the need to read Dark Henry fics. Do you have an rec for obsesses stalker/kidnapping/Stockholm style Henry fics?

Hey gorgeous! Dark stuff is definitely my thing. I actually made a list with recs you can enjoy. :)

[spilladabalia]

Human Impact "Corrupted"

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

How to find my fics on AO3?

I have locked my fics posted on the AO3 website.

Only registered AO3 users can see my fics on AO3 now. If you aren't a registered user and need an invite do let me know, and I can send you an invite for AO3.

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Mesquite Grove

Written: Sep 10 2020

Dark!Syverson x Black Reader

Also this is post is pic heavy. I really just mood boarded a lot to keep me going while I wrote. I modeled the cabin in this story of off Sky Notch. I hope it’s not to much lol and that you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and reblogging!

Autumn sits all around you. Monday, seven a.m and the town is quiet except for a few rushing cars on the highway just off from the store you now occupied. The colors of deep red and orange are dull in the morning haze but it signals change nonetheless. It felt good, for you too were experiencing another season in your life. A new town, another chance to start over. It would have been frightening if you didn’t know that without this, your life might have gone another direction. 

You stood there in the doorway, hand on the knob as you opened it completely and pushed a big heavy basketball sized stone at the bottom corner. The cold nipped around your neck and you rushed back. And you waited, a lone dot slowly being enveloped in the heavy fog. This dense cloudy layer covers the town, the trees, the homes, your store and the one across the street. 

It was beer delivery day at the liquor store and your turn of the month to stand here and take count of intake. With the door open, behind you pale light from within poured around your body as you stood in the frame. You were one leg out, it was too cold to stand completely in the weather so you stayed half in with the warmth. While watching the truck slowly roll in front of the door and then back in, you took stock of this new you. A year ago, a quiet life seemed so far away, there was a time you enjoyed the sounds of a city that never sleeps and the pace the people moved at. But here, standing in the presence of the singular sound of a truck engine it seemed peaceful.

The truck halted a few feet from the door, tail first, its lights ghostly in the fog and exhaust. You shifted to bat away the puffs of white, it doesn’t last long before a gentle frigid wind carries it off for a moment in another direction. And then there was silence once again with the cutting of the truck’s engine. 

For a moment raised voices from the head of the truck mumble over the cracking of gravel. Laughter, low and sardonic of sorts was louder as two men exited. Their stomping upon small pebbles broke the eerie morning time quietness. The first man you saw, a regular on this route greeted you with a wave. Dave, shorter than you but stout in his shoulders and frame offered a smile. 

“Hey, long time no see!” he said. You smile as best you can muster for this time of day and pull the clipboard from under your arm. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” he added.

“The four of us take turns. Today was my day..”you said quietly. 

“‘Gotta a new helper today.” said Dave, now standing in front of you. He handed a long slip of paper, a receipt of the day's products to be delivered.

“Well, I’m glad,--” Your words and attention are pulled by the sound of a racket coming from the truck. Loud and cumbersome, it was unusual for normally Dave would have slid it more gently. But your eyes landed on the back of Dave’s helper. He had slammed the platform that was hooked on to the door to the ground. The chains on either side still shook slightly from the action. 

“--it’ll go faster this time at least.” you said finally and returned to your list.

The sliding of the truck’s cargo door jarred you again. 

“Easy.” instructed Dave. “You break this shit we have to go back to the city for another truck.”

Once again you look up to see the man hop from the bed of the truck down to the platform. You didn’t look long. The man was already staring at you from under the rim of his dingy baseball cap. He was bulky and heavy with his footsteps as he strode the short distance to you. What you did see of him, he was large with broad shoulders and a frame built for hard labor you supposed. 

“Nice to meet ya,” he said in a smooth voice. It was surprisingly light, and pleasant despite the rugged thick beard that nearly hid his lips.

A greet worth grin, short and tight unfolded upon your lips as you spoke. “Dave’ll show you were to go.”

“You aren’t even going to ask me my name?” asked the man, his smile when bigger as did the delight in his eyes. He slapped the back of his hand on Dave’s shoulder. “I thought you said the folks at The Corner Store were friendly?”

Your eyes bounced from the man to Dave who looked noticeably uncomfortable, but still managed a grin and a shrug. 

The man turned back to you, his white teeth shiny in the light from behind you. “I’m Sy.”

“Okay?”

The sarcasm hung between the rushing sound of a car and the shuffling of Dave’s feet. You rolled your eyes back to Dave. “Anything new on the list?” you asked, ignoring Sy as he walked back to the truck.

An hour in and nearly done, Sy follows you through the first trailer lined with a variety of hot beer, winding to the next right entry way he continued to follow you through the second trailer. Once again, this one too held more warm cases of beer. Down the ramp at the end of the trailer he followed you into the main part of the store, fit for retail and held a large selection of spirits and wines in this section. He followed you still passed the counter toward the large fridge where shoppers could browse the sections of glass doors. But that wasn’t the destination. Instead you walked to the end, opened the door, a muscle reflex really, you held the door open for him as he entered too. Cold, though it felt warmer than outside, and packed and stacked into half rows with more selections of beer he followed behind you at the end. Shelving lined the end of the rectangular space, and underneath that was where he was to stack his cargo. 

“You’re new here.” 

You didn’t bother to turn around, “What gave it away?” you asked.

Sy lightly half scoffed and laughed. “Well this is my hometown. I know everybody here and you’re definitely not a local.”

Not easily swayed by casual conversation you ignored him. But his presence, the largeness of his body is equal to the energy he silently emits. That can’t be pushed aside. Sy waits while you move to the back row and pick up the last flat case of canned ale and place on the stack behind you. With a finger you gesture to that corner and he squeezes between the metal shelves with beer waiting for customers and the stacks of cases on the dolly. From on top of the beer he pushed in he grabbed for five flats of canned spirits and approached you in the corner. Within this space it was incredibly small to begin with. But with him, his broad shoulders and height you quickly become uncomfortable with not having a way out. 

He bent over and slammed the cases into the empty spot. He performed this action twice more until he carried the last of it to this area. And then at last, standing in front of you close enough to smell whatever soap he used that morning he reached for the cold case you placed on top of the other beer. He smiled at you, a grin mostly, one you would see from another who had familiarity with the other person. 

When he stood, his chest was inches from you. Parts you thought were atrophied spark to life, it had been years since you were this close to a man. The pieces fired up, your skin first, smooth turned bumpy though you blamed the cold and ignored it mostly because then your heart beat harder. Besides the whoosh of the refrigerator unit suspended behind you it was all you could hear in this moment. Sy titled his head slightly with his eyes gliding down from your chest to waist and perhaps further still you were sure. Immediately put off you turned toward the door, it felt so far away now, relief from this weight of him seemed hours away. 

“I have to cut a check,” you mumbled and hoped it sounded plausible, it was the truth after all.

Without turning back a short gasp hissed across the sound of the fan. Sy was doubly close, his chest and stomach bumped into yours. Head still turned a bit and you cut your eyes back at him. He was focused on your neck, he leaned in closer and his beard brushed across the skin of your neck as his fingers dug the high collar coat away. You stepped back, well tried - there was no room to step, instead you teetered back against the wood wall, one hand grasped the cases to your right the other placed on his shoulder. 

“What-” you asked but then heard a loud sniffing sound from him.

Instantly the chills upon your arms moved up through your shoulders and fizzled all the way down the sides of your spine. He dragged his nose up through your hairline at the back of your neck. A breathy whimper later, your body felt light, yielding at something you hadn’t had in a very long time - connection. Titling your head up at the feeling of small shudders coursing down your back, the feeling was inescapable, untamed and raw. 

And then it ended. Sy stepped back, his light eyes dark now stared back at you with something that you recognized as a man starved. He blinked and took off his cap, ran a hand through wild curls and replaced his cap. You stayed there unable to wholly accept what just happened but also, those pieces of you missed whatever that was. 

“Sorry about that - I couldn’t resist any longer.”

You wanted to ask the question; resist what? The impropriety begged for argument, to yell and tell him off about crossing your boundaries as men were often want to do. But then you remembered where he stood, where you were too and how many things between you and the door there were. 

Adjusting the neck of your jacket your eyes wandered back to the door. “No worries,” you said. 

Sy nodded with a smile emerging from his beard. The parts of you separated again, once again in their scattered places you frown at him. “Are you done? Can you get the fuck out of my way?”

Sy stepped aside with his back against the shelving and the other cases of beer underneath it. Internally you scream at the lack of space he offered you but took it anyway. Quickly you step forward, keep your body pressed against the opposite side column of beer and can only manage to brush your arm across his chest as you pass. 

You didn’t bother to look back once around the last stack, you strode down the rows of beer hearing the clanging of the dolly behind. No door holding either as you walk out of the fridge door and to the register counter. It wasn’t until you were back behind there and near a phone did you feel normal again. In this dingy old liquor store, at least here with packs of cigarettes and brown spirits did you feel safe.

Halfway through your work week you awoke to the shrill crowing of a rooster. Scrunched up on the side of your full bed your eyes cracked open to the pale morning light bleeding through your curtains. It crooned again and you blinked, brows pushed together as your eyes shot to the fabric slowly moving with the wind from the ceiling fan. 

You grabbed your phone on the end table, checked the time: 6:14 a.m. 

Shuffling on the other side of the window and the waggle of chicken noises was followed by another crow, this time the thing had to be directly in front of the window. 

“God damnit.”

While you enjoyed this house, this space you created into your own vision of a singular life you felt bothered. In the past this sort of interruption in sleep either by sounds of the city or fighting from an adjoining apartment, or even the people you shared the apartment with would have been met with lukewarm animosity. But here, in this home, as you rose from the bed with little more than a shirt on, this chicken with his cawing and carrying on, you thought he might have made a better sandwich than a living thing. 

You jerked open the front door and in a flurry of wings and feathers about a half dozen chicken hysterically flapped and scattered. They ran further when you dashed toward them with raised hands motioning them to flee. 

At the end of the porch the last chicken jumped over the railing and out into your yard. Wind from your left, the north gusted around your bare legs and up under your thin shirt. Before you began to turn and go back to the warmth of your bed something caught your eye. From your house within the valley, rising upon a crest of a hill a white tin roof gleamed as the rising sun touched it. 

You would admit there was never really any concern to know the neighbors. Other than your house, this home about a mile away on the tall mound was the only house to be seen for miles. You still hadn’t met them officially, if people even did that around here. 

But their land stretched for as far as your eye could see. Marked by barbed wire fencing and metal stakes coming as close as maybe ten feet from what would be your land. But unlike your side of the fence, which was mowed before the beginning of fall, their grass grew tall and wild, the cedar and mesquite trees were thick, the cactus patches unattended as well. 

Besides this morning chicken fiasco, you hadn’t even seen the neighbors. It made you think, just a jolt really that broke up the fuzziness of groggy thoughts, that perhaps the people who lived there did not want to be seen.

Saturdays were never easy, unlike the rest of the work week this day was met with constant customers as opposed to the lazy walkin’s of a Friday night. The liquor store would be closed on Sunday, so the rush to get the drinks for the weekend shook more people lose to come and get their selections. Also, to the side of the store, the park was filled and in the evening was lit up brightly with lights. This was different. Normally it was dark with zero cars or people. Whatever was happening brought even more people in than usual. 

Your co-worker, Hyacinth, short and blond went by Cindy mostly, rushed from behind the counter to open the beer cooler for you. As typical, you were the beer roller tonight. Laden down with a variety of beer you rolled it passed the counter where Adeline still stood helping customers make their final purchases. 

“I got it!” called Cindy. 

“My back is killing me,” you whispered as you rolled past her. 

A constant complainer, and as predicted she issued back her own set of ailments. “Well try standing behind the counter constantly after you stumped your toe this morning.”

She said it frankly, as if you had no idea what pain was or could not possibly understand. You rolled your eyes back in front of you and walked through the open door while Cindy followed in behind you. 

“And I got sick this morning,”

“Stop drinking.” your voice rose up a bit louder over the roar of the fans. 

“I wasn't! I just woke up crappy is all. Ugh, this thing with Rex. Did you know he still sends me money? After all this time! He makes me so frustrated, plus I hit my toe on the brass leg of my chair. I nearly snapped it off! It’s torture standing back there.” 

“Oh, must be really crappy to get money you never asked for once a month.” 

You sat the dolly down and grabbed the first case on top. “Geeze, I would totally hate getting money...just handed to me..” your voice drew out in a sarcastic tone.

Cindy rolled her eyes back at you. “He still wants me to come to Sunday dinners at Olive’s.”

“Well he always did love his mammy,” you couldn’t help but to giggle at her expression.

“She doesn’t love me, she lets me still work here and all that but...fuck she doesn’t make it easy.”

You didn’t have time to respond before Adie appeared with her face stuck in through a crack at the door. 

“Twenty guys just walked in -” she said, her voice quiet but begging too.

Cindy waved her off and walked out. Even over the fans you could hear the high spirited laughter and deep voices, the open and shutting of the front cooler doors, the clink of six packs clanking out the windows. And immediately you were happy that there was only thirty minutes left before closing time.

Products got stacked in their predestined places with little thought. Your mind was far away from this place. There was always the tendency to drift into a daydream at the moment the monotony of everyday life became stagnant. Somewhere on the high seas, the hero of your own story where money and time meant little, where you made the rules, and felt satisfied. 

You continued to dream as you walked out of the cooler, dolly in hand, eyes straight forward as they moved to places on the shelves that needed a bottle or two replaced. You paid little mind to the men there, who spoke softly with the beat of music across the street humming through the liquor store walls. 

Weaving around them with the dolly, you hardly notice their eyes casually glancing at your body as you pass them by. It was like any other Saturday, the men included with their minuscule unprovoked attention. Their movements within the store are meaningless, your mind was set on the last fifteen minutes until closing. That bottle of clear rum called to you like the couch, like the bag of chips in your pantry and the show you had been putting off to catch up on all week. You were ready to just be off.

The dolly and you pause near the front door where the bags of ice laid within the stand up freezer. You opened the door, palmed the frozen cubes through the plastic and decided with the cooler weather you wouldn’t have to bag anymore tonight. 

Cindy said your name over the top of the men passing comments back and forth to each other.

“I’m nearly done. I’m locking the back door.” you shouted over your shoulder and began to take off again, dolly in tow toward the second part of the store. Wine bottles stuffed together on rickety shelves clinked with the vibration of the music.

“Okay but that’s not what I was talking about- Come here.” 

You kept going with the dolly. “I’ll be right back!”

So you rolled it back there, just inside the first trailer and walked back. Finally you take the time to look at the faces of the four or five men on the other side of the counter. One of them was Sy. And you stopped short of coming into the main part of the store. 

“Hey! They are having a party up on the hill!” said Cindy excitedly. 

Her giddiness elicits a smile from you. But it was short lived as Sy turned from the counter as you took a few steps near. His large body leaned on his right arm on top of the counter, he stretched out a leg and his other hand held his wrist. A lazy stance but one with purpose that said he was open to friendly banter.  

“A gathering of sorts. The boys have returned.” Sy added.

“Boys? From college?” you assumed, it was fall after all, maybe the semester was over and these boys were younger cousins. 

Adie at the other register next to Cindy laughed. Another one of the men was leaned completely over on his crossed arms looking at Adie. But she was looking at you. “No it’s the -”

“It’sa time for family to return home.” said Sy. “Usually the men take off ‘til they’re late thirties, they come back, help out with the land, home life and settle down.”

“Are ya’ll..is this a religious thing?” you asked.

Most of them laughed, even the men down by the beer, but not you or Cindy. Sy only smiled. 

“Nah, it’s more like a reunion.”

Cindy crossed her arms over her chest, a few fingers played with the ends of her hair. “Hey you still got that bottle at home? Maybe you and I can catch up on that show and drink at your place!” asked Cindy.

Still thinking about their laughter, maybe it was an inside joke you weren’t privy too. But Cindy’s sudden shift from barely contained excitement to attempting to trash the idea all together grated your nerves. “I thought you were trying to go to this?”

“We can do something else. I got my toe to think about.”

At the mention of Cindy’s stupid toe your eyes went back to Sy. 

“After we shut down, we’ll start over there...where is it?”

The car radio mumbled a tune under Cindy’s constant talking. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t know Sy was your neighbor.”

“I’m not nosey.” you threw in, keeping your eyes on the gravel road only illuminated by the headlights of your car. 

You do your best to concentrate on the road. But in the pitch black your mind makes shadows in the spaces between bare mesquite trees, vines creeping over the fences that line either side of the gravel back road. Your eyes sweep back and forth for sleek bodies of deer that would dare dart out. It doesn’t matter that you are driving the forty mile an hour speed, you were careful every time you drove this way to go home. 

And as you passed the dirt driveway to your home an ache sets in. The kind that wants to be in your own environment with your own things. You even glance back through the driver side window, checking for the front porch light and wondering if the house missed you too. 

“I don’t want to see Rex. But I know he’ll be there.” Cindy’s whining cut into your thoughts.

“Then stay away from him.”

“I can try but he won’t listen.” she added, once again usurping another opinion.

Before you know it Cindy was waving her hand to the left. “It’s right there, the turn in - with those big wooden gates.”

It was open as you turned on to the driveway, though not much better than the actual road. Passing through them, they curved over the wide path, carved into them looked like animals, dogs maybe you weren’t sure. 

“Are they rich?”

Cindy unbuckled her seat belt and popped down the viser, flipped open the mirror and squinted when the light hit her eyes. “Ya.” she said, running a finger underneath her eyelid. “They all are.”

You drove further, even here the sides of the driveway were just as wild as the road you had turned off of. Though the gravel seemed sparse and gave way to the reddish orange dirt known for this area. Soon you were much closer in a short amount of time, you could see the house - if one could call it that. What you could see from your house was deceiving. That white house, looking now, was merely a metal garage. The mansion was large, spacious, across the land with timber embedded length wise to wooden planks running long. A cabin? A huge cabin fit for at least twenty or more people. And the cars that lined in front and down the driveway could certainly accommodate just that.

“Oh ya they are rich, god damn.” you whispered and pulled off near the garage. 

You drove to the nearest light, half way between the garage and this big house. But as you came closer it wasn’t electrical, it was a torch made of a stack of stones topped with flames. Your eyes moved past Cindy who was still adjusting her hair and makeup to the house, all the lights outside were made of fire. 

“An upclass kegger?” you laughed and put the car in park. 

“No they aren’t stuck up like that. Really, they seemed to be good people.” Cindy started to say something else but shrugged. 

She looked at you, “Ready?”

You sighed and resided yourself to just get it over with. Walking toward the house, you did feel a bit better, now that the drive was over you could look forward to an exit. 

Cindy walked ahead of you, grateful to let her take the lead you let her. And she walked straight for the large front doors with more dogs carved into the dark wood. Suddenly you were aware of the air around you, it was different from the natural smell down by your house. It smelled of the flora you walked through, even the timber that made up the house. Which only seemed to blend into the trees around it, even the front door was flanked by two small trees, stripped down to bare wood and made to be part of the architecture.

She didn’t even have to open it, before you realized what was happening a woman popped out. Tall, with long brown hair was throwing her arms around Cindy’s neck. She pulled her into the house with you trailing behind. 

“I can’t believe you’re here!” shouted the woman. “Rex!!” she yelled again as you shut the door behind you. 

The woman turned back over her shoulder toward you, “You brought a friend! Please make yourself at home!” The woman let go of Cindy and opened another set of doors set into thick wood. Past the glass on either side of them movement could be seen. She pushed them in and stepped into a stone and wood foyer. You continued to follow but quickly your eyes were pulled into this grand living room the likes you had never seen. It stopped you.

Your eyes were drawn to the large wooden columns of logs that gave way to an open layout that seemed to stretch to the sky peaking through a large window on the ceiling. Further in, the second story could be seen resting on more logs but that wasn't the focal point. Among the wood, and branches stood a rock at least twelve feet tall, carved in such a way it almost looked like the outside of a den or cave. Men sat around it upon cushions of leather or fur in deep conversation and acted like they didn’t even see you. So your eyes moved from then to the lip of this rocky monument where sat a clay bowl, burning with a fire within it.

“What the fuck is this place…” you whispered. 

 “The drinks are over there,” called the woman. She was far away, at the entryway of another room just off from this rock. She gestured into the room she and Cindy walked into. But you were still gazing, amazed even because beyond this rock were a row of double glass doors, swung open with soft music being played outside. 

Cindy called your name, finally you walked over to join her in what looked to be another sitting room but it was so much more than that, you just couldn’t name it. Wood followed into this room too, and stone. There were people in here as well, some crowded around a large bowl full of something blue. 

Cindy dipped a glass ladle into, poured it into a glass and then handed it to you. She did the same for herself, but before you could really ask her anything a bellowing hoot came from behind you. 

A man with dark hair came walking fast toward you, but glancing at Cindy, her face pale mouth open in a gasp took a step back. The man she did not want to see, Rex.

More people turned, some laughed and others nodded in his direction as he closed in on Cindy. 

“Hey I’m going out there, if you need me. That’s where I’ll be okay.” you said softly. 

Cindy only nodded and then at once Rex grabbed her in a hug. That was your mark to leave, and you did so happily. 

You followed the sound of deep crooning vocals from beyond the row of doors. More people, perhaps the last addition to the silent count in your head made for thirty people in total you had seen were sat around. Again, square cushions lined the rails of the balcony, dotted out from there encircled a man with the black satin sky as a backdrop behind him. 

It felt communal in nature, some shit you might have seen on television about cults and how they huddle together, think the same, do the same. But as you observed their faces, they listened to the music, though spoke to whoever was near them. It seemed benign. Though this was the middle of nowhere, Texas, what use would have a home like this? Who lived here?

You gazed at the man for a moment as you moved to the other end of the balcony. It seemed bigger than your own home with its little two bedrooms, and small living room. And it certainly did not have a view like this. In the dark, it wasn’t truly vast blackness, stars peppered the sky like fireflies, the nearly full moon cast a pale pearly light upon the land. 

“See anything you like?” said a voice from behind you. 

Sy was there, drink in hand and a friendly toothless smile. He cleaned up, he didn’t smell like the smoke from the pits at the park any longer, the cap he had on was gone and dark hair bundled in loose curls around his ears and neck. 

“It’s beautiful here.”

Sy’s eyes moved from you to the scene over your shoulder. He nodded knowingly, his jaw tightened and sagged, like he was biting down on a thought and then blinked back at you. 

“Not as beautiful as you.”

You were unamused and it showed across your face. Sy’s expression grew serious, simply staring at you before taking a drink.

Sy stepped closer to your left and stood near, he smacked his lips. “You’ll get used to it.” he said and turned his head toward you.

“Used to what? Was that a flirt?” you asked, finally beating back embarrassment you turned your body and leaned against the balcony.

“I’m not great at flirting.” Sy dipped in close, looking into your eyes, and spoke softly, “I call them like I see them.” 

He stood straight again, “So how long have you been in our small town?” 

The song changed, a few people called out requests before the man started singing again. You watched the people, buying time before you decided upon an answer.

“I’ve been here for about 5 months now.”

“Did it take you long to find a place?” he quickly asked back. “Not like there’s a lot to pick from.”

“Actually, I’m buying the land right down the road from here. The price was right.”

“The Grove house. I know it.”

“Yeah?”

“It used to be a part of this land, the caretaker’s house, but a few generations back we let them buy it from the family. Everything okay with the house?”

“It’s a great home. I didn’t have to do much to it. But there’s a dead tree stump at the far corner of the house.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

You shook your head like you were trying to throw off his good offer. This was all so strange, the house, this land, the feeling in your gut and now this.

You finished the drink off, spilled some of it down your chin as you quickly tried to deflate his offer. 

“No, no--that’s not necessary.”

“Hey we’re neighbors now. I’m home, I want to help you.”

You wanted to say no one more time but your voice loses its intensity with the sound of a woman yelling. Cursing, Cindy strode past the doors, her eyes roaming the dark and then stopping on people and looking some more before she finally landed on you.

Quickly she walked over to you, held your arms and ignored Sy complete. “Please, can you take me home.” her voice cracked.

“What’s going on?”

“Can you?”

You looked over to Sy, he was eyeing Cindy before he turned his eyes back toward the house. Shouting, low and growing louder you shifted back to Cindy. She was still looking at you, concern settled into her stance as she grew rigid, and stared right into your eyes.

You sighed, “Okay. Fine, let's go home. I’ll take you first.”

Sunday was bright, warmer than usual, but then again it was Texas, the weather seemed to have its own mind. And today it was sunny, with the heat from the sun beating out the cool wind. It made for a pleasant late morning, you weren’t even hung over. The ride back to Cindy’s was quiet, she hardly spoke - not like her. While her silence was worrisome you assumed it was some sort of lovers concern. 

The tree in the back had to be dealt with. You figured a few hours of digging around it would yield results. And while it did you were nowhere near getting the four foot wide trunk out of the ground. Squatting down near a deep exposed root, you swung your hatchet, splitting the wood and chipping away at the foundation.

You were sweaty, and tired of using energy best spent making food and sitting in front of the television. Laying the hatchet down you grab a rope and knot it on the end of the cut root. You tugged hard, nothing. 

A rumble of a truck pulling up into your driveway didn’t sway your efforts. Planting your feet you hunched over and pulled back harder. It gave a little that time. When you tried to pull again, a pair of gloved hands wrapped around the rope in front of your grip.

It was Sy. 

He smiled while plucking at the rope, “Let’s give it a tug.” 

His thick arms rubbed against yours, he fixed his stance closer but wider and his thighs brushed against your as the rope wrenched back. He grunts hard, “One more time,”and with another jerk the root comes completely loose from the trunk.

Sy released it and you turned toward him. He was grinning down at the stump, white cotton shirt straining around his large arms with his fingers in the jean loops.  “Looks like you’ve done a good job of getting it to surface. I bet I can pop it out for good.”

He backed up his black trunk and made easy work of wrapping a chain around what was sticking out of the ground.  You stood near the front of the house and observed him gassing the engine. Within a few minutes the stump cracked as it fell forward in the direction he pulled broken roots and all. 

“Thank you!” you said cheerfully. Jumping from the porch you saw Sy lean over into the bed of his truck and retrieve a gas saw. You watched him cut the stump down into slices. You wanted to help afterwards, you even tried to lift one but they had to be at least a hundred pound each. 

“I got it.” and without another word, and to your amazement, Sy squatted down and grabbed a piece. He walked a few feet with it, his arms wrapped around the part of the circumference and placed it in the bed. 

“If you’re up for a cookless night we are having a family dinner up at the house. Do you want to go get ready?” Sy walked back to you near the wood and grabbed for another piece.

“Right now?”

He lifted it, “Ya. Go wash off or whatever it is beautiful women do. I’ll wait.”

It was evening, the sun was setting when you stepped out of Sy’s truck. Gone was the warm weather in its place mist or fog seemed to grow from the spaces between the trees trunks and branches. Somehow the natural world mimics how you feel inside. There are shadows within you too, hidden by the mists of memories, light displaced by ghostly uncaring hands from the past. You look over to Sy, back straight, head lifted he walks like a leader. And when he turns to you, his eyes blazing some of the haze within you disperses. 

Even with his silent acknowledgment that this was the beginning of something new. The lines of cars aren’t ignored. 

“Family dinner,huh?” you asked in jest, though left it open for him to explain further.

Sy nodded, a whisper of a smile tugged at the end of his mouth and you suspected the expression was mischievous but you don’t know why he needed to be. 

Up the stone steps again, the outside ornate door was wide open though the one behind it was not. He walked forward, pushed it and let you walk in first. It smelled wonderful, food of some sort, meat and the fragrance of leather and wood met you. 

The grandness of the living room was even more so in the evening light. The feeling of being within a tree, or a cave did not go unnoticed. Sy grabbed your hand, surprised by this subtle gesture you allowed him to hold you, guide you toward a room that was closed the night before. The distant hum of voices grew louder once he opened the door. You wanted to stop and take in the space, the living room was but a glimpse-- this room was for kings. 

The entire space was timber walls, stone flooring with three low-height long tables running horizontal in this great rectangle of carpentry. The furthest wall was lined with large windows which offered the view of the tree country valley and everything of god’s creation. Bowls of food, trays of hot delights steamed up into the air looking like smoke in the dying light. The people surrounding the tables, had to be at least a dozen each. And Sy continued to walk along the side he came to the head of the first table, and nodded to those who waved at him. Their voices hushed with his approach to the middle table, he brought you to the second empty seat where you sat on the leather cushion. He took his place at the head, eyes wide at the selection, the prestige of this room you looked to him confused.

“The pack is back together!” called Sy. And at once the room bellowed with hoots and howls. 

“In a few short hours we will celebrate the beginnings of a new generation!”

Another round of hollering and calling waved across the crowd. “Eat!” announced Sy. And with that the yelling died down and the clutter of silverware filled the hall.

You stared at the fried chicken mounded up in a tray, and then to the more than rare steak to the left. A heap of corn on the cob with a tiny bowl of butter was quickly taken and passed across the table. 

You turned to Sy, he had already filled his plate with what looked like brisket, a few ribs and yellow potato salad. 

“What are you celebrating?” you asked, and without looking up he spoke while chewing.

“The return,” he shrugged and grabbed a rib and began to eat again.

Not wanting to stick out, quickly you filled your plate with whatever was close and took small bites while glancing down the table and around the room.

Cindy wasn’t too far away. Surprised because of yesterday's turn of events, you waved, and she returned it with an ecstatic smile. She leaned in next to Rex who gnawed on a chicken leg. Your eyes moved from her with a bite of a roll, to the carving on the wall behind Sy. 

The scene depicted there seemed to flow from one transition to the other. First a man, walking through trees, and then he knelt before a great dog. “Who made that?” you asked and took a sip of ice cold sweet iced tea. 

Sy looked over his shoulder, he grabbed a rag and whipped his mouth and beard. “It’s a family heirloom.” said Olive who sat across the table next to Rex. 

“It’s over two hundred years old. It was one of the first things created here.” added Sy.

Your eyes turned back to the raised carving. “This house is that old?”

“Older really.” chimed in Olive.

“This homestead is a testament to family, loyalty, and resilience.”said another, a woman. The same tall brunette from the previous night. 

“So..this is a reunion hall or something?”

Sy shook his head. “This is my home. And also the place our pa-family meets. It sits on three hundred acres of protected land. Throughout there are other homes, not as big --for families who return. Generational homes..passed down.”

“Like my house?” you asked.

“No, that was a gift to the caretaker. His loyalty was never seen of his kind before. It’s a shame he passed away and his family let that land go.” said Olive.

“It’s in good hands now.” added Sy, who picked up the pitcher of tea and refilled your glass.

Your attention laid upon the faces of strangers eating. “These people are your family?”

Sy sat the pitcher down, “Might as well be.”

Confusion spread across your face, “I’m sorry but,” you put your fork down and looked at Sy. “Okay, these people aren’t your family? But this is a family home?” You looked behind you searching for older faces besides Olive and found none. “What about your parents? Do you have siblings?”

Some of the noise lowered with your secession of questions. Maybe you hit a nerve, but there were other women who looked to you as well. “Ya, I came with Jack,” the tiny young woman nudged the man’s ribs to her left. “So many secrets,” she giggled.

Sy cleared his throat before he spoke. “My parents were killed when I was about twelve. I was raised by Olive. This home belonged to my mother and the land to those who resided here.”

“But why?”

“It was originally a colony.”

“Oh,” you supposed that made sense for the times. But in today’s world...you weren’t sure, strange.

Dinner ended with the men and their dates leaving the hall. Though you did see a few women and men stay behind to clean. You walked next to Sy, out of the rows of double doors to the balcony. At the right stairs looking like they were unfinished from a whole piece of a tree. You followed him down them, winding along the edge of the balcony the stone column holding it up to the bottom. 

The only patch of treeless land was not far from the home. Out there night had descended into the orange moon slowly rising into the sky. Your eye was drawn to an equally fiery color of flames licking the cool night air. 

“What a pretty full moon!” a woman’s voice said softly from the crowd.

“Not quite,” said Sy. 

You were standing next to him, watching him gaze at the fire. It cracked and spit sparks near you before he began to speak once again.

“This is a special night.” he lifted his head and spoke loudly toward the people and you. “A homecoming.”

Sy’s fingers pulled at the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head and then junked it into the fire. You stepped back and looked at the faces of the men. They did the same, each one, to the shock of the partner standing next to them. 

From the dark a woman approached, gray hair, wrinkled heavily around her eyes and mouth. She carried a stone bowl the same color as the long thick dress she wore.

Oh shit.

“This is a cult.” you whispered and took another step back. Sy pulled you back by your wrist. 

He mumbled at first, you thought he was speaking again but you didn’t understand the words. They seemed to rhyme and flow in the same pattern, like a chant.

Your attention was back on the woman, she drank long from the bowl, she stepped to the edge of the fire, something within you felt danger that if she stood any closer her dress would catch fire. 

Her saggy cheeks were full, she leaned back and spit the liquid into the fire. The burst hit the flames, a scream from within the crowd crawled up from the howls from the men. The area was blanketed in smoke and sparks. The thick charred hot mist forced its way into your nose and down your throat. You tried to run but Sy now held you from the back. Craving fresh air you sucked in and gulped down any that was available. 

“What is this!” You yelled through a scream that tasted of blood. 

“The beginning.” he whispered into your ear.

Your legs buckled and Sy allowed you to hit the hard dead grass. 

The smoke parted, maybe your eyes deceived you but the woman there, the smoke trailed into their mouths and nose. 

“You lovely ladies might be wondering what all this means.” his voice was low, thick with a delightful litany. His eyes were wide as he stared at each one. “Well, for us it’s about family, always has been. And for you, tonight, it’s the start of the rest of your life.”

Sy began to pace half way around the fire and then back to you. He shoved a thumb into his chest, “I’m the Alpha prime in these parts, and this here is my pack. They’ve brought you here tonight, they have chosen you.”

From your place on the ground, through the yellow tops of flames, Sy turned his eyes to you. “I have chosen you.”

At the sting of his words you fell back and twisted with pain. Something hard and beating thumped through your chest and traveled down your muscles to your belly. As soon as the wave crested you scrambled away from the deafening screams of women behind you. Trampling through the grass it hit you again. You stood against it, huddled and hunched over your own scream called out into the night. 

Sy was there, you smelled him before he even touched you. The pain rescinded with his touch but you resisted him pulling you toward him, you kicked at his legs even though in his hands made you felt whole somehow.

“Stop!” you screamed but he held tighter, his hands traveled up your arms and held your face. He forced you to tilt your head and met his eyes. A honey colored ripple flashed over the dark blown out pupil invisible waves of spread out from your eyes down your body. It was inexplicable, with his gaze you calmed to his touch, you gave in. 

Sy pulled you back to him, even though the sweater you wore the heat from his skin penetrated the fabric and so to your senses as well. He was in front of you but within you too, somehow you could feel him in your blood. 

“First rut!” shouted Sy up to the sky. Howls issued back, the sound whirling and ringing in your ears.

“Alphas!” Sy dragged you by the wrist for you to follow, blurry eyes stared up at the house.

“Claim your mate!” 

You entered the house in a flurry of groggy blinks and disconnected images. Flashes of wolves carved deep in stone, the sweat of dripping down Sy’s neck, his arms around you ushering you here and there. The smell of him got stronger down a dark hall, you tried to faint then, so overcome with the tearing in your groin you wanted to die. You wanted to give up and surrender to what could only be a slow death. But Sy, ever ready, pushed you, his presences gave you strength to continue over the threshold of a room.

If not for your own breathing the cries throughout the house might have scared you. Death seemed plausible though; how hard could a heart beat this way without dying? Never mind the terrible screams, the violent fits of rage that seemed to float through the wood and enter your mind. You were dying, right?

You clutched the wooden end-board as Sy stripped you naked. He maintains the closeness during, holding his chest near your back, a hand over your belly as he pulls the shirt over your head. He pressed his lips to your neck the sensation wracked your spine seizing it in an arch to meet his naked length.

“I smell you…” he whispered and jerked you around. “I want to rip you a part.” he growled then quickly kissed you. 

You let him take. You let him feel and run his hands all the way down your back. Whatever this was, it reacted to his touch, left you breathless and sucking in air too. 

“But I won’t,” his hands were back at your face, his teeth nipped your lips as he spoke between bites. “I promise, I’ll control myself baby.”

He turned you back around, with a hand forced you to bend over and without another word he pushed into you. Wet wasn’t the word for it, the moment he hit bottom you felt the warmth roll down your thigh. Sy gripped your hips, pulled out and then snapped your ass back to him. 

The invasion bruises you, it forces you to stretch around him. When you start to cry Sy stalls. He slipped from you, held you close from behind and directed you to the side of the bed. “Shush, hush, baby..” he whispered.

He fell to the bed with you, on top of you already positioned between your legs before the tears could start up again. “Put your arms around my neck okay,”

You felt heavy all over but you did as he said. Sy smiled and kissed you as he pulled your hands up over his arms and sank back into you. “There’s my girl..” he said on a pant. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, licking, tasting you his tongue swirled over the bit of skin just below your ear.

“We felt just right,” he groaned. 

It felt like hours, the constant prodding, the grinding into you, his skin slapped against yours undoing you from within. You had never come down so hard on the sensation in your life. Holding on to him tight he pounded into you, his teeth scraped your skin until he bit down. Something more, larger entered into you at the base of his cock, you shouted out as he tightened his jaws. His legs and hips pushed you further up the bed with the shaking of his body. Sy lifted up his head, finally you could see his face, the ripple of yellow rolled over his eyes, his face contorted into some ungodly beast. 

Horror filled you, with the roar he let loose. You were fading though, the fear became thin with the steady beating of your heart. Your arms fell from him, his face returned to what you remembered. You laid there with him still inside. Sy’s face turned down to you, lovingly he kissed your lips, your chin, your cheek. A satisfied growl carried from his chest, long and vibrating it soothed you to shut your eyes. It sounded like a dog...

No, a wolf. 

The men in your life before were easy to pin down who they were. Too loud, and their words gave them away. Too greedy, and their needs, their time was above your own. They took too much and gave very little. Their faces and their warmth are nothing to compare to the man now laying at your side. 

You were a single child of single children. No extended family, passed friendly close acquaintances. Which many were brought into the fold because of childhood parties, work friends, but none could offer the connection of family. Sy offered this. A wild beginning for certain. But lying in a bed softer than clouds, his scent covering your body like the finest of tissue paper brushing across your skin but never truly feeling its weight. 

Naked as the day you were born, your lids crack open, the light coming in was muddled with mist diffusing into the room as a constant drizzly morning. Sy’s arm was around your waist and when you turned your head his eyes were already open too, watching you, studying the sleepiness across your face. 

“I'm so tired...what did you do to me?”

His arms squeezed around you, holding you securely but you didn’t think of it as a vice, “Our kind is meant to be sleeping now. It’s our first rut...it can be exhausting.” 

Your mind searched for the meaning. Rut, it was something you had heard from hunters. When creatures mated..it was a time for animal reproduction. “Rut?”

Sy folded his other arm under his head, his blue eyes with one freckled stare at you steady. 

“Babe, you were changed for the better. The boys, a few females are wolves around here.” 

You sat up fast, that was a mistake for your body felt heavy. “Wolves?”

“Our people have been around for as long as there have been men.” said Sy staring up at you. “It’s a gift most would say, a curse for others.” And he rolled over on his back and threaded his fingers over his stomach.

“Which is it?”

“It’s an honor.” 

“How is this even real? I don’t understand…”

“The world isn’t black and white, this isn’t the movies.”

“So..I’m changing..into what?”

“You are the Omega prime here, I don’t recon you’ll change like me but you are this. Once you see and allow your nature to come through you will understand my love.”

You pull the covers up closer hoping that somehow it would protect you from the truth. “I’m changing into a wolf??”

Sy chuckled lightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke. “No, you’re a vessel.”

“I don’t want that.”

Suddenly Sy sat up and moved his large bulky body toward you while pulling the sheet from you and sitting directly across you. 

He looked you into the eyes, “It’s too late for that.”

The aches in your body, the creaking in your joints were reactivated under his gazing. Without thinking you stretched out a hand and grazed it over his shoulder and down his arm. There was no use fighting it, that feeling was beginning to churn and flex under your skin again. 

You fell back to the pillow, you can’t stand even your own skin. It itched, it pulled around your muscles in a way you had never felt before. His scent enveloped you, permeating, it sinks into your pores. You could smell him more now, as if the volume of this sense turned up to zero you could even scent his cock and craved what was within it. You wanted to hunt, you wanted to run, to provide...what the fuck?

Sy unfolded your legs and laid his hips between them. “Baby, you’re sweating again. You need me. If you go for too long..you need it.”

Shaking your head while wrapping your hands around his neck your voice trembled out, “I don’t.”

His big hands buried between your body and the bed and gripped your ass. “You do...” And pushed inside of you. Every inch that sank your mouth stretched open. 

“My little omega is wet for me,”

The words didn’t make sense but they rang true for your body. It was dirty and confusing but it made you want to be good for him. You shut your mouth, moaned as you did so and nodded.

Sy began to thump, a smile maybe pulled at the corner of his mouth but his eyes remained serious. “That’s it…”

“I knew you would be a perfect fit..” he groaned too, hitting bottom. “Take my knot so well, love.”

“It--it hurt.” you mumbled.

Sy kissed you lightly, his expression turned to concern, “I know love, it’s supposed to at first.” he grunted and began to slap against you harder. “Just a tight omega..”

The longer he thrusted the more the base of his cock began to thicken. He bounced against you testing the width with each jab until he was forcing it in and out of you. “See..” he hissed and laid his head against your shoulder. Sy’s tongue licked around the marks on your next sending shudders to your core. Gasping, heart thumping his rubbing from within on your clit burst the sweet ache from within. 

“That’s my girl..” he whispered. Sy rose up, grabbed your wrists, pinned you down and fucked you harder. 

His knot entered you completely as he stilled on top of you. In the light of a dreary day his face flashed once again of the hound he hides within. His grip tightened and this time you did not give in to the sleepiness. Sy collapsed, still holding your wrists but dragged them higher as to settle in. His hips continued with small well intended prods.

He lifted his head and stared down at you. “Do you feel it?” 

His cock laid within you thick and heavy. He moved a bit and couldn't pull out. “That’s me inside of you. I did this last night, but you passed out. I fucked you all night. Do you remember it?”

Now it made sense, the aches and pains. “I had you about six times.” he said while still slowly moving his hips. He rolled his eyes back barely containing the ecstasy in his voice. “I’m filling you.”

Your purpose unfolded within your bones, spread to your muscles as warmth from the sun would. A sweet burn, one that felt ancient and destined. The life you had before shed from you as you nodded toward him. You are his, it felt right and true.

When his hands left your wrist you understood that he had brought you into his life. As he held your face and poured into you, there was no other person he loved more. 

“Just a little more,” he said and began to peck your cheeks again. He appeared relaxed and with it so did you. He rubbed your hair, cuddled into you no longer moving his hips. “We’re going to make so many beautiful children together.”

Maybe with him and this strange new way, that your life before could mean more now because it brought you to this moment. Gently you caressed his face down to his beard and carefully kissed him back. Sy grinned as he pushed back on your lips. 

“I’m going to take care of you,” said Sy.

Out of the shower you walk out with Sy naked once again. Water dripped down your breasts and to the floor you couldn’t shake the fact that this house felt like outside. Or maybe it was nature itself that had been invited in. You felt it here more than in any other place. The sense of being at peace, at being at home. Sy’s footfalls are never far from you. Like air, like sunlight too.

“This is --” you said sitting on the bed. “I feel odd. Like I feel you or this house..I’m not sure how to explain it.”

Sy handed you a towel and began to dry his body off. “Bonding.” he said while rubbing his dick and then his thighs. 

You stood up once again, and started to dry off. “You’re my mate. This home was built by my family, it means something.”

His words swallowed your thoughts as you stared at him for a moment. Sy walked to the closet in the far corner, he pulled out a few pieces of clothing and started to dress. “I’ve got stuff in here for you too babe.” and motioned for you to follow.

“How?”

“We still have the keys to that little house you’re buying. I had them move some of your clothes here while we were eating dinner last night.”

He leaned over and pecked your head. You walked to the closet and pulled on the long sleeve shirt, and held the sweat in your hands. You grabbed some faux sheepskin fleece boots too.

“Over there,” he pointed near the bed to a large ornate dresser. “Your socks and things.”

You finished dressing as Sy walked from the bathroom, his curls were tamed for the time as he fanned his fingers through them. “Just try and let it happen, okay? The more you fight it, the longer it takes.”

“You brought me here! You drugged me and now you just want me to accept this?”

Sy shrugged, “It’s always been this way.” He stepped up to you and the connection hummed at his fingertips that lightly grazed the skin around your mark. “I know you feel wronged. I’m sorry I took you. But this is your home now, it would only upset the baby if you kept fighting against this.”

Your head snapped back, “Baby?” You touched your stomach, a reflex really. 

“There will be soon.” he smiled and brought you back to his face, “We need to--” but he stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. “Wait here.” 

Purely out of the concern in his voice you did as he said. But there was more, it was in your bones and you followed out the door anyway. Loud voices carried across the space. At once within the hallway the smell of rot hit your nose. Maggoty things sprang to mind, decay and plunder of flesh flashed across your mind. Sy continued around the second story, and you followed passed busts of brass faces and more pelts lining the inside wall. Despite the sunny rays pouring over dark wood from above and falling down onto the stone monument below, the air felt rancid. 

Passed an adjacent hallway, and another few closed doors you saw the source of the fretful talking. Rex turned his head from the railway overlooking the first floor up to Sy. He paced away from it back to the door behind him, he looked in, his eyes wide he did not stop staring within. Sy stopped next to him, you saw him turn his head and peer in too. You followed suit, with your eyes adjusting to the light blazing in from three giant windows. Within the bed laid a woman upon her back, arms half moved like a crooked doll her eyes were open staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

She was the source, your stomach turned and you stepped forward. Sy held you by the arm. But she did not look decomposed, but the smell wafted up to you anyways. “Cindy!”

You moved again but was still held back, “Wait love.” asked Sy quietly.

“She didn't--” Rex was crying as he spoke. “..the transformation..she.”

There was an end, clearly somewhere within this concoction of mystical smoke people could die. Women met their end.

Olive approached from the other side of Rex, she crossed her arms and stared within the room disappointed. “You know what needs to be done Rex.” her aged voice cracked in the middle, executing the order while dealing compassion was never her strongest trait. 

“She just died!” you yelled.

Olive stayed level as she spoke to Sy. “You don’t want the old God after us, Alpha Prime. You are that now, tonight will make it official. You must do it.”

“She has a family! They will look for her!” you turned around and shouted at Olive. 

Olive seemed to cave into your voice as she turned her head shakily toward you. “I know her mother, sisters. If they come asking questions I’ll handle it.” She released a breath, steadied herself against Rex and looked back to Sy.

“When’s the last time you knelt to an Omega Prime?” he asked Olive. She frowned, and it looked like she was biting the inside of her lip and averted her eyes back to the room. “Half the day is gone.” said Sy.  “Tonight is the run..we need to do this just after dark.”

“So that’s it!” your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “You kill her? Now you’re going to hid-”

Sy whipped you around stared right into your eyes, the color in them shifted. They emitted authority down upon you to the point you were left speechless. His jaw relaxed and with it an almost soothing growl followed, but you broke through you attempted to turn your eyes. But he grabbed you by the arms, made you gaze back at him. He began to growl low, not threatening, you felt the anger within you plummet. 

“Now that you’re calm, listen. She has received the gift but her soul did not take to it. If we do not dispose of the body properly...”

Sy let you go and turned his eyes back to the room. “Let’s just say they haven’t had a dark soul in this area in a generation.”

Already the house smelled better, though cold with every window now wide open, the older women went about shutting them again. A small thin woman with silver hair eyed you as she walked passed you toward the kitchen. 

“There’s still breakfast left.” she said softly. “Just for you, miss.”

You muddled over her comment for a minute. You were starving but the idea of eating after finding Cindy dead was pulling at your ethics. She turned at the door to the kitchen and waved you in. You relented to the hunger. 

Within the kitchen it was busy, with women and men going about preparing food. A giant stone island had six people surrounding it chopping up onions, tomatoes and other things you didn’t get a good look at. The woman returned to you with a plate of toast, a giant pile of scrambled eggs, bacon and glass of orange juice and motioned for you to sit at the last seat near a young girl who was crushing saltine crackers into a giant bowl. 

You ate quickly, said nothing as their conversation picked back up with the arrival of this woman. She had to be about ninety, she commanded the kitchen, ordered people with soft words but stern looks if they back talked her instructions. 

“Well no one else is gunna say it.” said a woman from the other side of the counter. She had curly brown hair, jagged eyebrows that gave her the permanent expression of agitation. “So how does it feel to be the Queen of the Den?”

When you bit off from your toast, those talking halted and looked at you, some continued their jobs in silence. 

You chewed a couple of times, “I don’t know what that means,” you said with a full mouth. 

The woman looked up to the older woman rolling out dough. She scoffed, “Sloan knows how to pick’em.” and rolled her eyes.

With that the old woman banged the roller on the counter and pointed it back at the woman. “Peach! It’s true!”

“I won’t hear it!” said Peach, her soft voice broke into a growl. “Dottie shut that damn big hole in your face!” 

“It’s not for you to know how to strengthen the pack.” Peach relaxed back, held the roller between thick knuckles and looked back toward you. 

“Sorry about that Prime. I wouldn’t recon young and dumb went hand in hand unless it came to Dottie. She meant no harm.”

You nodded slightly, sat up a bit straighter and continued to eat. Sloan? After all this, you had never known his first name. They returned to work, though Dottie went right back to chatting with the woman next to her. The little girl hummed next to you as she moved to the next sleeve of crackers. And halfway swallowing the orange juice the back door swung open with a man carrying an animal over his shoulder. Sy entered right behind him, the man slammed the carcass on a large prepping table at the back of the large kitchen. 

Sy’s gaze never left you as he walked across the kitchen, he slipped in between you and the girl and kissed the top of your head. 

“Hey Sloan.” you said under your breath, he pulled back nodded then smiled slightly as he grabbed a few crackers from the table. 

“Are you done?” he asked, you plucked the toast from the plate and followed him out the back door.

You walked and walked with Sy. After a few minutes of silence he grabbed your hand and led you away from the house deeper into the land. 

“What’s going to happen to Cindy,” you asked quietly. 

“At dark there will be a ceremony, she will be buried then.”

He said it matter of fact though it did not set that way with you. But nothing really felt right since you got here. It was just another shocking development after another really. “What kind of ceremony?”

Sy helped you step over a fell tree, “For the turning. She has to be burned before it’s over.”

You tried not to take his callousness to heart. Though it did seem insane to speak of the dead in such a way. It didn’t strike you as hard though. Something within you felt calm about it, like a lasting trust for the man near.

And you didn’t know if it was the walking but you felt sick. At first in your stomach but quickly it grew to aches and cramps in your belly. 

“I heard Olive say that,” you said through a twist beginning to gnaw at your back. 

“The pack expects it. I’m the Alpha Prime, it is up to me to see that we are safe. And I will do it. I’ll do it till my last breath.”

Sy let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your back. “This land is for you too,” his hand drifted down your back and settled into the back pocket of your jeans. “I want you to feel at home here.”

When you didn’t respond Sy stopped and forced you to look at him. His fingers stroked your cheek and then with the back of his hand, testing and feeling your claiming skin. “You need me?” he asked.

Shaking your head you pulled from him and walked whatever direction you thought he was going. But you didn’t get far before you doubled over. 

Sy was there, near you making you stand up and lean on him. “Come on, there’s a cabin near. It should be vacant for a few hours.”

“We can’t just use someone’s home-” you winced.

He made you walk with him again, “It's not. Call it a lookout, there are other things out here a lot more dangerous than the occasional coyote.”

You huddled into him, sweating and whining as he walked you down the path where a small house came into view. He helped you up the stairs feeling the wetness building between your thighs. And as soon as you got in it he was on you. “We barely made it in here love.” he said between kisses. His hands quickly grabbed and tugged at your pants as he walked you toward a patchy couch. 

His nose dragged from your neck, your breasts with his fingers pulling at the top of your jeans. You didn’t fight him when he pushed you down. You didn’t say a word when he used your jeans and underwear as a way of holding your legs up and close to your chest. Exposing your glistening pussy, Sy pulled himself out and entered you immediately. Bare upper thighs, Sy’s hands held you there allowing the pants to continue to restrain your legs. 

“Do I really want this? Or is it something else?” you moaned as he pumped fast.

Your eyes rolled back, “Feels so good.” you whispered as he thumped harder.

“It's real,...you belong to me.” Sy leaned in crushing you more with his weight and size. He sucked hard and fanned breath down to you as he huffed, “Always have…the smoke wouldn’t have taken if it weren’t true.”

“You,” he pushed in with every word, “..belong to me.”

“They live in the fog,” Sy said and pointed toward the dark patches between trees. 

You were right to be afraid, not of them though, for you had seen these on your first ride up here. In the car with a chatty Cindy you had told yourself it was only an illusion. Perhaps the fear was of yourself, the ignorance, the lack of connection to worlds thought to be of lore that were closer than you thought.

“Who are they?” you asked while walking closer to Sy. The open woods felt smaller now, what other beings existed out in the wild?

“Sprites, small gods.” he said, looking forward again. “B’careful and never ask anything of them. They crave warmth at the best of times, they like to hang around bodies. But if you speak to them it’sa chance for them to get inside of you.”

You said nothing after that, wide eyes continued to search the trees recognizing more hazy emotionless faces than before with each step. Light from the torches grew brighter, illuminating the dark and with it the beings faded with the touch of heat. 

You entered the area lined with thick wooden torches topped with fire. The other alphas followed behind with their mates and little was said among them. The crack of the fires to the cold of the night was the only sound that really interrupted the moment.

Sy and you stood just within the entry of this circle of flames, one after the other one alpha with his mate took their spots around the center. Built of wood like a stage and on top - a body shrouded in white, it reminded you of something you had only seen in the movies, a funeral pyre. Rex stepped close to the structure, his head pointed toward it, the flicker of shadows and light play down his back and over his head. The shiny beads, things that looked like round coins hung and clinked together in the gust of frigid wind. 

You didn’t look away until you felt Sy step away. He was behind you, unhooking the handle of the torch from the pole. And he stared toward it, walked past you and flung the torch into the brush skirting the pile.

The moment it caught fire something twisted within your gut and chest. At first it felt like guilt, a pang across the muscles in your chest but it persisted. It burst to life in your senses from your lungs and spread out to the tips of your fingers and toes. You heard screaming, light quips of moans from the other women. When you looked around they too were grabbing their chests at the same time you hunched over. Standing there in sparse dead grass, you tried to steady yourself, bracing the air but nothing came to your aid. It buckled your knees. Whatever this was swept through you in waves of pain and knowing. You weren’t sure of anything, but it felt okay, that all of this wouldn’t last. 

The wood cried as flames engulfed the bottom tier completely. And with it, the very atmosphere around you snapped and spit energy you’ve never felt before. Low growling from all around but the loudest, the longest comes from your side. You look up from the ground to Sy. Teeth bared through his thick beard his brows were pulled tight, the angles of his features once again exaggerated into something not human. You stared horrified when he began to claw at his chest, his fingers were not his own, they were long, gnarly and tipped with long nails. The yell from his mouth was an ear splitting soul shaking screech that shook your spirit. 

With the crack of bones, his skin sloughs off long black fur, the floppy bits hit the ground and immediately sank in and became fertile ground that sprouted green grass. His legs grew long and bulky and snapped back like that of a dog. He grew taller, bigger with a wolf's snout and face. 

Suddenly a shriek from the fire rang above the growling and howling around you. Upon the pyre the fire had reached Cindy, but she wasn’t laying there any more. Her body stood, claws ripped through the sheet as it too caught fire. You stared up at it hopelessly, panting hard your heart thumping at an inhuman speed, part of you gave up in the wake of this. You sat there unable to fight the buckling and rebirth of your senses.

Cindy’s body lept from the toppling pyre toward you. No time to react or run something large stepped between you and it. A man screamed from your right, he was in the middle of changing to. Rex stepped toward it with his face shifting in and out of human and wolf and tried to grab the thing by its arm. 

The sheet had burned and melted into what was once Cindy’s face. Its jaw opened long, stretching pieces of fabric and skin across its dark mouth and shrieked. The thing swiped at Rex, slicing through his skin to the white of his flesh across his neck, chest and belly. Blood splashed into the air and to the ground. He crumpled to the ground, dead before he even touched it. And when Cindy’s body turned back toward you something suddenly impaled her chest straight back into the fire, pinning her there until the families consumed her completely. 

It was quiet after besides your breathing and the warping of blood in your ears. Sy, now fully transformed, stepped to Rex, picked him up and as gently as he could, placed his body too in the fire next to Cindy. 

His feet were large paws that you centered your attention on. Displacing the dirt with every step you refused to pull your eyes up further. And when he knelt down to you, his great big clawed furry hands sat on either side of your body. He nudged the side of your face with his wet nose until you did look up. His eyes were the same, with the ripple of honey across blue that you had seen before. He tilted his head down, rubbed his nose into the palm of your hand until finally you ran your hand over the bridge of his nose, and up into the thick fur between two giant ears. 

He pushed his nose into your neck gently before he stood up. Whatever had come over you was quickly dispersing. Though now, after, you smelled more, like a scent had color or flavor that you had never noticed before. The same with your vision, prying your eyes off the newly formed Sy, and glancing at the trees and saw the fog people for who they were. No longer just faces, full bodied apparitions with different clothes and emotions of their own.  And your hearing, besides the tiniest movement of creatures, you could sense the footsteps in the ground and in your ears from the direction of the house. However peering through the dark you could see their silhouettes were still quite close to the house.

Sy grunted and you turned back to him. His snout was tilted up toward the sky, sniffing and licking the air. He howled long and loud and the others followed. He turned to you once again, baring his teeth and took off, leaping over the pyre toward the other side of the circle. A sudden rush of the others following their leader joined him and disappeared into the forest. 

The hall was packed. Along with the row of three tables that you had seen before, there was another, running diagonal at the top. You sat next to Sy who sat at this table, on the middle cushion, surrounded with the faces you had come to recognize. The new members appeared as you felt, lost perhaps in the fray of the night's ceremony, exhausted too, and probably worried about their new lives. They too most likely felt the pull as well. The fading of what their old lives were being replaced by the energy of family around them.

But even as they and you came to grips with what this new life included cheering erupted throughout the hall. Laughing, and gesturing toward one another as they ate and swapped tales of their adventure in the forest. Yes, this felt like family. Something you weren’t so used to having. 

Peach came walking to you and Sy holding a large platter made of wood. She came to your side and slid it into the empty space on the table. On it were slices of meat overlapping in a circle that looked nearly raw with it’s moist flesh, and dark red sauce.

Sy picked one up, he placed it near your mouth. A subtle smile played at the corner of his lips as he urged you to open.  You felt the enormity of this moment if you took this bite. This was it, you would be accepting your place here and everything that meant. You stared into his eyes and then took a small bite. The flavor was metallic in your mouth, tangy and fleshy as you chewed. Sy ate the other part. He passed the plate to the next man who did the same with his mate.

He leaned close to you, his nose sniffed your neck back and forth tilting his head slowly. “I think you got a secret.” he whispered, still sniffing you, his nose brushing upon the skin of your jaw.

“I don’t think it’s a secret that this is all weird,” you laughed softly, and picked at your food.

His nose touched your skin again and breathed in deep, “Oh yeah,” his lips caressed the rim of your ear. “You’re pregnant.”

You jerked your head toward him, mouth slightly parted, the words escaping as they formed in your mind. “I will protect you..” he said.

“I will love you ‘til the end of my days.” His fingers glided long the other side of your jaw to your chin. “D’you accept me?” he asked quietly. 

The hall had gone quiet. You ignored the weight of their stares. Slowly you stroked his beard and nodded slightly. “I accept you.” you whispered back. And cheering roared.  Part 2

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Tenebrific

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glance over at your phone. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Doc, you look nice,” he says. 

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

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

“You dressed up for me?” He rasps. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Elijah--” 

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

“You are being--” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The kettle clicks off.

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

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

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

“Elijah,” you beg. 

“Call me captain, doc,” he snarls. 

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

“Shh, shh, shhhhhhh,” he hushes you. 

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

“N-n-no,” you croak out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere Masterlist

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life. (Captain Syverson)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

[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

[missacidburn928]

Get Ready Heathens

Tomorrow you meet Little Red 😈

10 years I have spent isolated in these woods. Satiating my lust for blood by divesting unworthy men of their useless voice boxes with my teeth and bathing in the warmth of their blood.  It has become a rather lonely existence as of late. My only true company being that of my raven Othello and his ever changing conspiracy. I think the feathered fellow may be immortal. Or possibly some sort of demi-god.  For once I’d like for an Alpha or man of worth to stumble upon my home and be able to feed all of my needs. It doesn't have to stop at just one either. A have quite the voracious appetite.