#dark!syverson

[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.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Called to Duty 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, 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.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

What are you going to do? You have nowhere to go. You have no one. 

In fifteen days, you’ll default on your lease. As nice as the pharmacy owner’s been, he won’t forgive you that. Your mom blocked your number. You have no issue swallowing your pride but apparently she can’t do the same. 

A job isn’t easy to find in a small village. You could try the cafe but you know the owner is staffed sufficiently. The bank? You applied so many times already. The manager always stared at your chest before walking away with your resume, but never called you. 

There’s the mill. You’re not too far along. You could work and get a bit more on your maternity benefit. As it is, you can’t survive long on that. You’ll get maybe a month once the baby’s here then... 

A baby. Are you really bringing a child into your mess? Maybe you made the wrong choice. 

Well, it’s not just you who made this mess. 

You stew in self-pity and resent. You sit alone in your apartment until the voices from the street nearly drive you mad. Why do you have to be the one to suffer? 

You grab your keys and storm down out, barrelling down the stairs. You come outside. The usually customers drift in and out of the pharmacy. You ignore the whispers as you head off down the street. 

Your feet hurt, your back too, your hips. And your stomach is in turmoil. None of that compares to the dread and frustration mounting in your chest. 

You stop to catch your breath as you get to the outskirts of the town centre. You grip your hips as you continue along the farm roads. You didn’t think this through. Have you ever thought anything through? It’s exactly how you ended up like this. 

You peer across the hills. You can see the peak of the vaunted hotel. The tourism trap that feeds the wealth and arrogance of the Odinsons. 

You chuff on until your lungs burn. You slow again. It’s going to take at least another hour to get there. You hate this goddamn village. There’s nothing here but grass and gossip. 

A motor rumbles and echoes closer and closer over the dirt roads. You continue on slowly. The vehicle slows, its shadow looming over you. Your name grits in the air. You go rigid but don’t look back. 

“You need a ride somewhere?” Sy asks. 

You ignore him. You don’t need any more mess. 

“Hey,” he stomps the break and cranks into park. He leaves the truck running as he the door creaks behind you. “Hey, it ain’t good you being all the way out here.” 

“Go away, Sy,” you sneer as you press on. 

“I can’t let you go by yourself.” 

“It’s none of your business--” 

“I’m sorry how things happened,” he catches your arm. He’s too strong for your to shrug off. You turn to him and tug, he lets you go. “I wasn’t meaning for all that. I came in to check on ya. I didn’t know he was there.” 

You look at him. His nose is swollen, a split in the bridge, and he has a bruise on his cheekbone and a cut on his lip. You feel a pang of guilt. More to add to the pile. 

“Yeah, and what? You got me fired. For what? Sy, you don’t want this baby. It isn’t yours. And the man who put it on me is the one who’s going to pay.” You snarl. 

His thick brows furrow and he looks up the hills. His eyes flick back to you, “you go up there?” 

“I have no choice,” you heave in exasperation. “He did this to me. I thought--” You shake your head and grip it between your hands. You spin away and drop your arms. You shrug and set off again. “It’s not anything you need to worry about. I’m the stupid one. To think that he... whatever.” 

His boots crunch in the dirt. The truck engine quiets and his keys jingle. His footfalls hammer the ground as he catches up to you. 

“Let me drive you. Come back,” he says. 

“No, I’m doing this on my own.” 

“You can’t-- the baby--” 

“Oh, how could I forget,” you scoff and stop again. You face him. “Sy, I appreciate what you tried to do for me. I’m sorry he did all that to you because of me, but this was never going to--” you shake your head and peer back toward the village centre. “Look, you don’t want to be dragged into this. People hate me, they judge me. Well, I judge him and I’m going to get what he owes me.” 

“How’s that?” Sy asks. 

“I don’t know,” you say. “But I have to do it myself. So please, go home. You don’t deserve this burden.” 

“It’s not a burden,” he argues. 

“It is,” you wave him off and turn up the road again. “Don’t follow me.” 

You keep walking, listening for his pursuit. He sighs. You don’t hear him follow, but you don’t hear the truck either. You focus on the horizon. 

You arrive at Inn at the peak of Thunder Lane in a puddle of sweat and nerves. You look up at the facade and those pillars that you once greeted with excitement. Thor used to take you to a different room each time and you’d have some fun. Fuck. You’re so stupid. 

You don’t know what you’re doing there now? Why did you come all the way here? All that effort and you didn’t even bother to think this out. 

You steel yourself as you approach the Inn. You keep alert, expecting Thor to appear. He doesn’t. You climb the steps up to the doors and open the right-side one. The lobby is empty and desolate as you enter. Your footsteps reverberate off the high-ceilings. 

You go to the front desk and look around. You hover your hand over the bell. Your name flutters over to you, keeping you from ringing. 

“Apologies, our clerk didn’t show up to work today,” Frigga appears in her usual precise attire; ivory and beige paired with expensive jewels. “How are you, dear?” 

You watch her approach and take a breath. 

“We need to talk. About your son,” you force out each word delicately. “And your grandchild.” 

[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!

[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

Part 13

Part 14

[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

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

I have a few fic ideas,

[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"

[psitrend]

Human Impact Announces European and UK Tour in April and May 2025

Human Impact brings Gone Dark to Europe and the UK in 2025 New York-based Human Impact has scheduled a series of performances across Europe and the United Kingdom in April and May 2025. The group, which includes Chris Spencer (Unsane) and Jim Coleman (Cop Shoot Cop), recently released the album Gone Dark through Ipecac Recordings. Readers can also check out our review of the album and our…

[littledark11]

I want to believe that Reader sees herself as a survivor not a victim, that she's not trying to erase the past but learn from it also I'm really surprised that Aika to turn on fucking Sy real fast, I thought she would be a loyal dog but I guess she just got tired of his bullshit and fucked him over but at least Reader is safe.

My theory is that Sy is but knowing him, he's just waiting for his perfect moment to strike back.

Follow You Anywhere 15/Final

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, blood/violence, 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 coming along for this ride <3

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 slow as your lungs scald. You heave and bend over, unlooping the forgotten rope from around your neck. You're lucky it hasn't caught around anything.

You dizzily stumble around and hide it in the brush. If he's following, you can't leave any sign. Your mouth is full of saliva as your throat is scratchy and dry. You can't remember the last time you ran like that.

You keep moving. Even if you can't run, you have to keep moving. Sy will be after you. You got him deep but not deep enough.

If only you could have gotten him further over, right in the middle, maybe you could've killed him. The thought doesn't chill you, only your apathy to it. That's another thing he took from you. Your compassion, your trust, your naivete.

You trip and slide down an incline. At the bottom, sticks jab into your skin. You fix the shirt around you. The two buttons you managed to hook are loose. Your had bobbles as you blink and crawl over the ground.

You stand up and look along the curling road. Not a real one, not paved, but two dusty lines worn into the ground from the roll of tires. You turn toward the moon and start to walk.

As the adrenaline calms to a baseline thrum, your heartbeat slows enough to think. What do you do? Sy's a soldier, you're sure he's trained to survive, to find people. You're not trained for anything. And you're almost naked.

You wince as you step on a sharp stone. You hear something. A strange but familiar noise distorted by your ringing ears. You turn as a light flashes in your direction.

You dodge out of the way as you think it's him at first. But then the light splits and becomes two. It's not a flashlight, it's headlights. You hop back into the tire tracks and wave your arms.

"Hey, hey! I'm here! I'm here!" You holler and stagger.

You stare down the truck, certain it's going to run you over, then the brakes squeal to a stop. You gape at the driver as you see his shadow lean over the wheel. You can't move.

He opens his door and gets out. He strides along the hood as he sniffs, "now what're you doing all the way out here?"

You should probably wonder the same of him but all you know is you need to get away. You sputter and show your hands. "Please, I need help. Please. There's someone after me. He hurt me--"

"Who?"

"Just... this guy. Please, there's no time."

"Heh, you're telling me this isn't a trick," he scoffs and turns away, stomping up to his car door. "I know the type, you distract me and--"

He croaks and wheezes and you hear the new sound, the one you hadn't heard before that night. The noise of metal in flesh, squelching and stabbing deep. The man's body is hurled away, revealing the hulking shadow with the knife still in hand.

Your lip trembles as Sy bares down on you. His arm is soaked in his own blood, his hand in that of the man who's on the ground moaning. You take a step back, keeping your hands up.

"Sy, please, I'm sorry. I was... I was scared, please," you beg.

His breath grits in his throat like a growl, his chest rising and falling heavily as he advances on you. His eyes are pool of shadow as the moonlight gleams on the blood the slickens his flesh. He's naked, shameless, mindless. He only has one end. Yours.

You want to look around for something, anything, to get away, but you can't take your eyes off of him.

"I love you, sugar," he snarls as he gets closer and you take a pace back for everyone one of his. "How could you do this to me? I been good to you." He grips the knife tighter and his shoulders puff up. "I don't wanna do it..." he grits. "I DON'T WANNA DO IT!'

His holler echoes through the trees and leaves rustle as night birds scatter. Your heart seizes and your muscles buzz. The world narrows to just that moment, that road, and you see the dead end before you. This is it. It's over. You tried and it didn't work. He's going to kill you.

He growls again and adjusts his grip on the knife. He lunges forward and in an instant, he's hurtling sideways. He grunts as he lands in the dirt, the knife flying into the unseen brush. The snapping and snarling intermingles with Sy's yelps and grunts as you watch the dog's silhouette tear at her owner.

"Aika! Ahh!" Sy furiously tries to shield himself and she latches onto his hand. He garbles and growls as he struggles with the canine.

You don't think. You just move. You go to the truck and hop in the driver seat. The engine's still going.

You hear that man on the ground. He's gurgling. He's alive. It's not fair to leave him. He wasn't going to help you...

No, no. Sy didn't take all of you.

You get out and go to the man. He's not very big. Spindly with a bit of a pooch.

"Hey," you hiss. "Can you get up?"

He gives wet breaths and groans. He reaches for you. You plant your feet as you hook his arm around your neck. You haul him up, barely, and stagger with him toward the truck. He gets himself up into the front seat and you shove him across and follow him in.

You hear a yelp and the sound of paws scattering. You slam the door shut and hit the gas. The truck hurtles forward and you don't look back. If he's still alive, you don't want to know. You just want to get out of here. You want to be gone.

💮

The bright lights blind you as a figure blurs before you. The thumb tugs at your eyelid as the glow makes your eye water. The hand lets you go and the doctor comes into focus.

"Shock," he declares as you sit on the high hospital bed, still only in the dirty flannel shirt. "Nurse."

A woman in teal scrubs comes over and drapes a backless gown over you. Your legs dangle over the edge as you stare. They stare at you then the man in his white coat scribbles on the chart.

"She'll be fine. Not sure about the man."

The doctor leaves and the nurse eases you back to lay across the bed. You let her. She pulls the coverlet over you and her voice fogs in your ears. she points to a red string. She leaves with a hollow breath.

The walls become clearer, and the single window, the curtain beside the bed, and the shining sink faucet, dripping into the deep sink. The tempo keeps you from slipping.

The room darkens as the nurse comes back. She flips the overhead light but a lamp remains on near the bed. You rub your thumbs against your index. Someone tried to wash the blood off your hands. You can still smell the iron.

The morning rises and with it, the world settles back in around you. You take a breath as it washes over you. Is he gone? Or is he waiting right outside those doors?

Your hands rest over your stomach. You feel him inside of you. The way he tore at you, stretched you, tortured you!

You hope Aika got him good. You hope she killed him. That he bled out in the dirt.

Your eyes glaze with tears. A knock comes at the door. You don't react. It opens.

The nurse enters, a man in a dark uniform behind her. "Hon, the police wanna talk now."

You blink at the man. His face tenses. He looks at your hand and your blood-stained nail beds.

"You still got the cloths from that?" He asks the nurse. She points to the bin hooked from the end of the bed. He nods. He focuses on you and takes out a notepad. "Miss, we gotta ask you some questions."

"My computer. Check my computer," you say. You shudder and hang your head. "It's how he found me."

"One thing at a time," the officer says. "Last night. Talk about that first."

You take a deep breath then snivel. Your eyes sting and your cheeks pinch. If they're asking, you don't think they found him...

💮

Life is simpler now.

It's just you. It was before, but now for real. Just you and your books. You and the market stalls, the people, face-to-face. No more online shadows, no virtual wraiths to haunt you. This world is real. This world is only what's around you.

And Della. The golden labrador with her goofy expressions and soft coat. She's more than just a cuddlebug, more than your friend, she's your protection. The monster taught you more than he meant to. He taught you that you need to be vigilant. That it's good to have a loyal ally.

As sweet as the dog can be, she's not all soft fur and slobbery kisses. When someone gets to close to you, her head goes down. When she hears something odd, she growls. She's friendly on the outside but cautious on the inside. Like you.

You take her to the pier to paint or draw. You no longer sell online. You don't do anything online. You don't even have a phone.

That day, the dawn sky is a lazy shade of lavender dusted above cornflower and puffs of cloud. You carefully recreate the scene in watercolour, your easel set up in the sand. You never lived by the water before. The city was suffocating. This is airier.

In a way, it reminds you of that fateful day. Of him. Of that life he'd dreamt up in his twisted mind. But when you think of him, you push it away.

You're free of him and you're going to stay that way. He doesn't get any more of you. Not your fear, not your thoughts, not your grief.

They never did find him. After all the reports, the questions, the doctors, nurses, and officers, you stopped wondering. You read the short article on the discovery of a man and woman in a truck after an alleged attack at the beach, but it was so vague, it sounded skeptical. You're not sure anyone cared. The man who stopped, recovered, and wanted nothing to do with you. You didn't have much affinity for him either.

Maybe you're colder now. Maybe more distant. Wary. Wise? Some might call it that.

Three years ago, you started your page. To document your life, your existence, your thoughts. You did it to keep yourself from fading into nothing. To feel a little less alone. Now, you don't mind being alone.

You think about it. What use is it being a footnote on the internet? When you were in danger, no one cared. No one noticed. The only person who ever noticed you, well...

You sigh and step back to compare the sky to the painting. The sun's moved since you started. That's okay. The colours are close. The way the clouds curl is just so whimsical.

Della gets up and stretches, before makings circles on her blanket and flopping back down. She rolls so you can see her stomach. She wants attention.

You set down the brush and wipe your hands on the rag tucked into your belt. You go to her and squat down, scratching her belly as she wriggles and groans in delight. Her tongue lolls out and you chuckle.

In the end, you did get what you wanted. Not exactly happiness, but freedom. You have your art, you have a booth down in the town centre, you have Della, and you have the lake. It's all you can ask for and as much as you can handle.

Most importantly, it's yours and no one else's. You answer to no one and you belong to no one. You are no one and that's just fine.

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Mesquite Grove pt 2

Written Oct 25 2020

Dark! Syverson x Black Reader x Dark! Geralt Also this is post is pic heavy. 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!

She had offered an exchange.

The writhing twisted thing on the ground, whipped its long slimy arm along the bog’s black moistened soil. It bared its sharp teeth before bellowing a sorrowful moan.

Geralt stared down at what used to be a beautiful woman. With her once melodic voice she had promised youth, riches beyond measure, and power - if he would let her live.

Allow her to continue her own reign of terror over the small but humble village. She had brought strife, she carried sickness into their homes, disturbed their spirits. 

Geralt wasn’t a fool. Of course he had considered her offer, but knew it was nothing more than conjured filaments of promises. It would have only been real as long as she lived.

What are a handful of crowns in exchange to leaving innocent people to harm?

Though he was no saint. It took sleeping with the village’s leader’s prettiest daughter and taking half her dowry to gain his contract. One cannot ask if one is not willing to give. 

And he delighted in the taking.

As in this moment, the black eyes matched his as he stared into the abysmal void that was quickly spreading down its body. 

Geralt bared his own bright white teeth and plunged the sword further into the monster's rib cage, piercing its heart and impaling the dirt below. Green ooze bubbled out of the wound. The moan gurgled into a desperate scream, echoing throughout the forest, shattering the peace surrounding it. 

The moment Geralt withdrew his sword the ground beneath him shook. Around him, wind began to whip and the wispy clouds around him whirled above him. Thinking, calculating, Geralt wondered what new spell this was. Eyes now back to their golden color he stared at the swirling beginning to descend about him. 

He tried to take a step, strained again to pull back from the gravity sucking him upward. 

Geralt reached for the beast at the same time his feet left the ground. Out of time the rotten skin slipped through his fingers, the whirlwind carried him up and up. 

The forest chattered once more. The creature laid there dead as Geralt had planned. But there was no Geralt here, or sword.

The moon hung behind a clear pane of glass, in the room you shared with Sy. Near the bed, where you laid, within her own wooden bassinet, the soft breathing of an infant soothed some of your worries. Pregnancy had looked great on you. Actually, you had never felt better and almost disturbingly so. It was September now, a month passed giving after a near painless birth to Astrid.

The little darling, Sy’s heir and your delight, and your reason for sleepless nights. Not because she required taking care of, that came easy enough, but your system had changed. You had little sickness throughout the pregnancy, energy boundless in a way you longed for the days where you could sleep a full night. 

This was one of those nights. Sleepless wasn’t the word for it. You flipped on your side and stared out of the window. The advent of fall had begun revealing a clear cool night sky with stars dotting above the tops of the pecan tree basking in the white light of the moon. You heavily sighed and rolled on to your back. It was ill advised by the old matrons that new mothers were allowed to roam the woods like their other halves. So you were laying on the large, billowy bed, muscles twitching to wander, heart waiting for the moment your bare feet could hit the ground. 

You stared at the wood grain above the bed and listened to the dark, imprinted the sound of Astrid’s breathing to your memory, and beyond the window pane howls - distant, calling to the night, did little to lull you to sleep. Your secret weapon to combat restlessness was to wiggle your foot. Quick short bursts of movement rocked you gently. Your eyes slowly blinked followed by a deep yawn and you shut them completely. The things to do in the morning began to drift less in your thoughts and it became more important to cave into the sinking sensation of sleep. You attempted to blink again, though did not. 

Your foot stopped moving. 

The dream began with feet, steadily walking through overgrown grass, stopping at first and then started again. Night rounded around the image, the skin was coated in black smudges, blood, the hem of a dark dress dragged  and smeared it around the calves. You could smell the iron in the air along with rot, not animal death, but that of felled trees with fungus aiding in its decay. A woman, she began to run as the vision pulled back and revealed that within her arms a bundled lay there. No bigger than Astrid, could have been Astrid the love you felt was as strong as that for Astrid. 

But it wasn’t, this woman was afraid of losing this bundle. Though not to death, but to forces beyond her control, so she ran. 

The dream shifted to fog, no footsteps to be heard. Made of air and a moist breeze they walked out from the trees and surrounded the woman. The bundle lifted from her arms despite her attempts to hold on, what was soft fabric became translucent just as the beings. Her scream scratched the inside of your ears, the wail turned yelling, her mouth was moving but the voices from it did not match. Your body began to shake, the scene rattled too. 

“Wake up, Miss! - Oh, old God! Please wake up!” the voice said.

Your eyes peeled open to Peach’s deeply wrinkled face. Worried thin lips were drawn into a straight line. “Miss!”

Your back snapped up straight, head turning towards the bassinet your eyes looked over Astrid. Peach held your shoulders, “She’s okay. But you have to come down--”

You pulled her worn hands from your body and held them within your own. “What’s wrong?”

And then you felt it, a worry, deep in the pit of your stomach. 

“Is it Sloan?”

Peach suddenly blubbered, you had never seen her in such a state. The aged woman was tough, and her tears had you climbing out of bed faster than what she could answer. 

You stood above Astrid’s bed, touching her belly you turned back toward Peach’s hunched over figure as she wiped at her lined skin. 

“I knew it would happen again..god damn--I told Alpha it could happen again.” she mumbled. 

Dottie, with her curly hair pulled up tight in a high bun and tugging on old boots, rushed in. “I got Astrid.” she said hurriedly. 

Dottie’s face was lowered, her eyes staring down at Astrid. She sighed, that was the moment you noticed a subtle lemon light and then she looked back at you. Behind her, beyond the window the sky whirled with clouds. Some deep yellow, others blue, circled and churned. You moved closer to the bassinet, still staring at the sky when Dottie too turned around, Peach gasped behind you. In the hustle you had not looked at the window, had it been doing this the whole time?

Clattering from down below, near the stone den, loud voices shouted, some hollered for help. Your stomach dropped more. Dottie shot out and grabbed your wrist. “Go.” she said quietly. 

You walked past Peach, to the end of the bed, who was still staring at the window with her hands covering her mouth. Grabbing the thick navy robe you turned around back toward Astrid’s bassinet, Dottie was there, her face toward your sleeping baby. You threw it on as she waved for you to go.

It must have been later than you realized, the second floor was devoid of the usual lit sconces, instead the fiery light from below coxed up and gave you warm light to guide you down the stairs. The row of balcony doors came in to few as you quickly descended, the yelling had died down in its place hushed tones followed murmuring. 

Eyes wide you hit the bottom of the wooden stairs and turned toward the large space with the stone monument. Women were coming in from across the other rooms with clothes in their arms. You recognized the usual pack, Tator, shorter than Sy preferred tattered jeans dragged across the floor as he paced. Macon, naked, was squatted down near a figure laying flat near the stone of the large statue. Jimbo, he was shirtless as he stretched the waist of the sweats around his waist stood up erect, his normally jovial face was straight and concerned. 

You rushed forward, their eyes turned to you and you ignored their bareness as you searched for Sy. They parted for you until his naked back could be seen, “Sy?”

An older woman handed him a shirt, he turned toward you and grabbed your face. “‘You okay?” he asked. 

Before you could answer, you moved to this side, your eyes dropped to the figure laying on the floor. 

“Ya’ll back up,” Sy called out in a hushed voice. He looked to you again waiting for you to answer his previous question. 

But you couldn’t take your eyes off the man on the floor. Sy nudged your cheek with the back of his hand, moist with sweat it was enough to draw your eyes back to him. “I’m fine, so is Astrid.” you whispered, and then pointed down at the man. “Who is that?”

“He looks-” said Jimbo, but stopped.

Peach had wiggled through the men across from you and Sy. Her blue eyes stayed on the man.

“We shifted on the other side of the property, so we were running,” began Sy, as any mumbling died away. “I scraped my leg near the old pyre. I ain’t ever seen anything like it.” His voice strained as he tried to stay calm while speaking. “What I was lookin’ at split and blurred. There was flashing lights in the sky, these clouds circled us and this asshole popped out and landed right on top of me. And then other things, monsters, fell right along with him and disappeared in the woods.”

Both you and Peach met near the side of this man. His shirt was near new, though unique and more like a tunic than a cotton tee. And his boots were good, strange though.  “There was a high pitched noise, it sounded like a bomb went off in my head.” continued Sy.

You knelt down at his side, staring at the strands of dirty silver hair. “It reminded me of war.” 

Flicking down further down this man’s neck, his pulse thudded quickly underneath pale skin, around the bottom half on his chest and shirt, a medallion on a silver chain. You reached out for it, slowly at first unsure at why you were doing so, but you did it anyway. You held it, still warm from his body and swiped a thumb over the raised décor. “It’s a wolf..” you said softly. 

More than that, it matched the same motif and style of that within the crest of the Syverson heirlooms you had seen so many times. 

“Looks like what is on the wall in the dining room.” 

“I never thought I would see the day…” said Peach.

Sy moved closer, though still standing, at your side. “What’s going on, who is this?”

Your eyes flew back up to the man’s face. Even in his sleep, silver brows seemed to glower in his rest. A familiar profile stuck out to you, it was the same as Sy’s face, same shape of lips, the clef in his chin.

“He looks like you Sloan.” you said, still holding the medallion. 

And it happened fast. Peach gasped first before you realized the man’s eyes opened, yellow and pointed in your direction. He snatched your hand within his and sat up, staring down at you. Crushing your fingers around the metal, the man growled before suddenly blinking slowly. Through his nose, he breathed in deep. “You smell…like flowers...dizzy..” his lips barely moved, your eyes met his as he leaned in closer. He continued to do so, his eyes slowly shut, his hand around yours dropped as Sy stepped in time to push him off you. 

The man crumbled down to his side while Sy helped you stand. “Who is his?” he was looking down at the man, brows drawn together before he stared at Peach.

Teary eyes were still on the silver haired man. Peach, sighed, mumbled something under her breath before she sighed heavily. 

“He’s..” she turned her eyes up to you and then to Sy. “I didn’t think we would ever see him again. Alpha, this man..” she looked back down at him, her hands seeming wanting to reach out to stroke his hair but did not. “This boy is your brother.” she finally said. “Your twin.”

Members of the pack lifted the man and placed him into a bed on the second floor of the cabin. The women had undressed him, mended his scrapes and scratches as he remained unconscious. It was now late morning, daybreak had cast light into the room catching his white hair. You stood at the doorway, observing Peach check his pulse. 

“He’s still breathing, seems to be sleeping.” she said to Sy. 

Your eyes fell to the man. Something solid settled in your chest when you gazed at him. Akin to how you felt for Sy, but different because while you had no idea who he was, you yearned.

“How is that man your brother?”

The sound of your voice breaking the silence had Sy turning toward you. The disappointment in his express was palpable. His eyes rolled to Peach. “‘Feel like I’ve been lied to my whole life.”

“He wasn’t ‘pose to come back! No lie can be undone if there’s no proof Alpha!”

Sy stepped toward the man, pointed, “He’s right there woman! A whole lie laying in my house!”

“Sloan.” 

Olive came in, a large book cradled in her arms, “This was from the old times, before there was a here and our people came to live here.” Sy made to move toward her but stopped when she spoke again, “Your mama made me promise. Omega’s trust is binding.”

She handed the book to you. “In there is about you too.” she said, looking from the thick embossed leather to you.

“What about me Olive?”

“A woman unknown. A stranger no more. Alone in the world, shiftless but finds their grounding.”

You squinted at her. “That could be anybody.”

“--catches the eye of the Alphas.” Olive continued.

Sy interrupts with what you did not catch. “Alphas?”

“First Omega with two mates.” 

You blinked,  and then squeezed the bridge of your nose while struggling to understand. 

“You were destined to be here. The world, gods, -- you were supposed to always be here.” said Olive. “I just..never considered that this prophecy would happen in my time.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t of lied-” Sy growled.

“I had no choice. I was bound by your mother’s word. And her actions were bonded by blood. No way around that, believe me I tried. Your father was missing. And, damnit, your mother knew not to ask the fog for help. She had no idea they would take her son in exchange...” said Olive.

Peach grumbled under her breath. She shuffled toward the end of the bed all the while staring sorrowfully at Sy. “Alpha, this man is your brother.”

“I don’t even know his name.”

“Geralt Syverson. In that book there-” Peach stuck a knobby knuckled finger toward the thick tome. “Says right in there, that man’s name is Geralt.”

Olive sniffed the air for a moment and glanced back at you.

“The rut is tonight.” she said, still staring at you. “Whatever it is you need to think about Alpha, you best do it quickly.” She turned her eyes back to him. “Because this is happening. Destiny is willing it.”

“I don’t give a damn about destiny-”

“I think you will find it is hardly worth out running.” the man mumbled from the bed. “Believe me I’ve tried.”

“Where am I?” he said while glancing out the window. Geralt sat up, moaned deeply and held his head before shifting his eyes up to the man who mirrored his likeness. “And I need a bath.”

You stood tense outside the kitchen door. Back so tight, it was fit to snap but you pivoted from ball to heel, rested the back of your head against the grain. This man’s voice settles in the knot between your shoulder blades. It struck you even deeper in your gut, your soul, whatever that warm feeling that sat in the middle of your chest. 

You know more than not, that the reason is something more than soulmates, and connections. You can smell it from here, him, just as you suspected he could sniff you out too. It was raw in your nose, primal, and instinctual.

And you were grateful that the occasional passerby did not stop. Like you, they too avoided the kitchen while this visitor ate.

“Is she yours?” asked Geralt.

Without a pause, “Yes.”

“So she follows you everywhere you go?” he asked. “Why is she standing out there?”

Sy called your name, slowly you rolled on your arm toward the entry. The moment his yellow eyes landed on yours longing unfolded within you. 

“I find myself, once again, in a strange land.” he said lightly. Geralt chewed off a bite of toast and gestured toward Sy. “And this man says he is my brother. However, I believe I am much better looking. What do you say?” he said as he swallowed the mouthful.

Sy sat in the chair sideways, with his large legs splayed, he hunched over with his fist flat at the knuckles and pressed into his thigh. He turned his head to you, utterly gentle, soft even to Geralt’s gaze he gave you a half grin. 

“Why are you here?” You asked.

Walking over to Sy, you kept watching Geralt the same as his eyes stayed on you. His chewing paused when you grew close, his eyes fell to the arm Sy wrapped around behind your hips before looking you in the eyes.

“I have no idea.” said Geralt, and turned back to his plate. 

Slowly his gaze moved from the pile of eggs to the book between him and Sy. He picked up the bottle of beer, chugged it while still staring at the words on the pages. Such an odd man, you observed, since waking he even walked around with a sword strapped to his back. Like now, his top half curved over his plate, those strange eyes shifting -- taking in his surroundings without looking too long.

“But I overheard something about a rut?” He said to Sy. “What are you some sort of animal? A pack of mutant dogs?” he chuckled.

Sy didn’t join in his amusement. 

“Werewolves.”

Sy jerked his chin, cut his eyes down to the medallion around Geralt’s neck. And casually, glanced back at that symbol on the ancient page. 

“That’s the mark of my family. Our inheritance.”

Geralt put down his beer and leaned back in the wooden chair stiffly. 

He rolled his jaw, flicked his tongue between his back teeth and looked to you first. “I’m over a hundred years old.” he said, and then stared at Sy. “Either this is some sort of time dream, or I’m your ancestor. This place doesn’t look like the Continent. Lacks greater magic, but this medallion - it’s been gently vibrating since I’ve arrived.”

“It warns me of magic and danger,” he said. “It’s no family heirloom. It was given to me once I completed my trails.”

It was absurd to think of movies or the vast stories of time travel, but it was all you had. 

“So what if you were taken there as an infant.” You looked to Sy. “Like Olive said.” 

“And time moves differently in this place you grew up in.” Geralt stared up at you, listening. 

“Wouldn’t that account for something? You’re talking about all this magic like it’s true. That’s not how it is here. And only recently have I even considered anything like it.”

You continued to stare back at his unwavering glare. “Don’t you feel different?”

A long silence followed. Sy caught you staring, the heaviness of his grip on your hip pulled you to stare back at your mate. He was still considering Geralt, the man continued to look at you until he spoke.

“He does. And by the end of the night I’m sure you’ll understand why...brother.”

The title brought Geralt’s focus back to Sy. “Odder things have happened in my long life. What’s one more?”

They, the pack, took this new/old comer in stride. Stranger than his sudden appearance was how they welcomed him back into the fold of their lives. Twelve hours since he arrived and Peach was here in front of you talking about him like he had always been.

Her eyes burst with delight as she spoke about him as a baby. How good he was, that he cried very little, and always needed cuddling.

Peach was covered in dark soil. From the creases around her knuckles to the edge of her temple. The old woman cut herbs down to the root as she spoke. 

“Are you ready?” she asked.

You blinked a few times, coming back to the moment. You nodded. 

Peach threw the last bunch of tarragon in her basket and stood up slowly. “I think your baked chicken will go good with that.”

Peach huffed, shook her head and looked to you exasperated. “That’s not what I was talking about. Don’t be coy. The rut.”

“You think Sy is really going to allow a stranger-”

“It’s not about what he will allow. It’s a bond with the land that was paid in blood before you even knew we existed. It is what it is.”

You laid Astrid down back in the bassinet. Ready for tonight's pack dinner you walked from the room you shared with Sy. You peaked back through the door at the young woman you had left your child in care of. 

She sat in the chair near, cracked open her book and smiled back at you. 

You buried the anxiety with a tight nod back. Already the house buzzed with high spirits, for the arrival, and for the eve of their time of bonding. The closer you came to the dining hall the louder it was and thicker the fragrance. 

The two of them, different but the same, had the effect within you.

Entering the voices quieted. Some familiar faces looked at you, smiled, nodded as you passed down the center of the long tables toward the one sitting long ways. Your space was empty, a vast void between Sy and Geralt. 

They stared at you. But your eyes fell to Sy only. 

And so you sat between the two big men. Something about them, their demeanor toward one another -- something had changed. And it poured over during dinner. They no longer seemed like two strangers. 

Geralt leaned back on his right hand, just behind you and whispered in your ear. “I hear we have some catching up to do.”

Sy glanced at you from the side of his eye before answering a member of his pack from across the tables. 

And you said nothing in return, and you did not look at him either. You picked at the potato salad on the plate before you and forced yourself to listen to Sy’s words. 

“I’ll be gentle.” Geralt whispered again, this time close enough to feel his breath brush against your ear. “Maybe...” he chuckled softly. “..if you’re good.”

You stared at Geralt from your place at the front of the pack on the balcony. He stood there observing the pack members, shoulders straight, chin level, and those yellow eyes stopping and studying ever so often. The weather fell, cold wind swept through the crowd of people staring at their Alpha. If not for the occasional blinks, and subtle tilt to his head, you would have thought Geralt was made of stone as Sy spoke.

“These are peculiar times,” said Sy, shifting his head and eyes from you to Geralt on his left. “But we aren’t strangers to oddities as such. As you all have heard, this man here is my brother.”

Indistinct mumbles descended through the fifteen or twenty men and a few women standing in front of you, Sy, and Geralt. 

Sy held up his for silence. “Geralt Syverson was a child of bond made in blood. Our mother’s sorrow over the loss of our father was paid by Geralt’s exchange. It carried him off beyond the world we see now.” 

Sy looked over at Geralt, who cut his eyes to him. “Carried him to distant lands where he was taken in by a woman. From what I gather his life has been hard.”

Your mate turned his focus back to the pack. “He was..changed by the people of the land.”

“Why is he back?” called a voice. “Why now?” said another.

Sy turned his head to the right and looked at you for a moment and then addressed the crowd. “The dark soul about a year back did it. The last one killed before that, was the night payment was due and my brother was taken.”

“Is he one of us?” asked a tall man, his black eyes swept from Geralt’s boots to silver hair before looking at Sy.

“‘Can’t be a Prime. There’s never been two.” he added.

Sy stared after the pack member, you could see it in his brows as he carefully considered his next words. 

“There is now.”

The crowd mumbled some more, whispers, disgruntled and blameful rolled over them once again. 

“There’s more on this land than we know.” Sy said loudly over them. “Shit we never seen is going on in the woods and my brother knows about it.”

Sy glanced over at Geralt who was already staring at him. “He will help. This is home now.”

Geralt nodded. “I kill monsters.”

His eyes drifted from Sy to you. “And as far as this being my home, it remains to be seen.”

“You will.” Sy clapped his big hand over Geralt’s leather clad shoulder and squeezed. “The air is changin’, you feel it?”

And as if speaking it into existence the wind shifted around them. The Alpha’s restless stances moved with one another feeling the resonance of their Alpha Prime’s words.

Geralt said nothing at first, his eyes traced back to the men. In the light of the balcony his skin shone slick with sweat. Sy grinned. 

“Alright, ya’ll - meet up in a few hours.”

Sy dropped his hand, the other messaged your back and wrapped around you to pull you forward through the crowd along with Geralt.

“First order down this path is claiming.” said Sy quietly while walking through the row of doors back into the house. “They have it easier, like during the change-- like me because we have mates.”

Your stomach dropped. 

Still sweating and rather perturbed Geralt grunted out unamused, “I glanced through the book Syverson.” 

“Sy?” you rounded on him taking a few steps up the stairs. “This is ridiculous. I’m not-”

Sy suddenly took to the stairs, growling in his throat forcing whatever retort back down in your throat. He grabbed your arm and began to walk you up the stairs. 

“Come with me brother,” called Sy over his shoulder. And when you glanced back at the silver haired man. He was staring at you, his breaths heavy and you recognized he could smell you just as you could scent him out.

You pulled against Sy, but it didn’t matter. He dragged you into their room. Gone was the bassinet, the child you shared with Sy and the room was lit by candle light and the night sky filtering through the large windows.

Geralt followed and closed the door behind him. 

“Try it,” said Sy. And he repeated the growl in this throat. “Think of subduing without touching.” he added, and twisted you around to face Geralt. 

“Don’t-” you said.  “I never agreed to this. I-”

Geralt stepped forward, the rumble in his throat began low and hit you harder than Sy. A deep jolt in your pelvis and wetness seeped from between your folds. The sound of his call was raw, unwavering and only grew the longer he stared into your eyes. 

“A curious creature,” his hand caressed your cheek, smearing the tear into your skin. “So lovely.”

Sy released you and stepped to the side. “She was made for us. In every way possible, brother.”

Geralt hummed, blinked slowly as your compliance melted into his psyche. He had been to the edges of the Continent, seen worlds broad and miniscule. But this, the sensation to ravish and take had never been stronger than in this moment. The urge to...plant, sow his legacy felt primal and ancient.

Sy breathed in deep, smelling the fragrance of your heat fill the room. “She’ll fight. But it only makes it sweeter.”

You fought against the rush. “You--don’t know what you're talking about Sy..please..” you strained to look away from Geralt.

“You know what the rut does to me baby..” whispered Sy. “You belong to us now.”

Sy walked from the room, leaving you to Geralt. And with him any hope that the man you loved, wouldn’t do this. But the moment the thick wooden door clicked shut Geralt tore at your t-shirt, grabbed the back of your hair and pulled you against his chest. 

His lips hovered over yours. Humming the Alpha chant he kept you there staring into your eyes. 

“I have so much power over you.” his deep voice mollified your senses. “It was confusing at first, this world, how it worked. But I feel the desperate pull to be inside you, entirely. And I fear.”

Throat dry, you struggled to speak against the cloudy haze of hormones. “--fear?”

“That I wouldn’t be able to stop myself..” Geralt pressed his lips on top of yours. He split them with his tongue, plunging and licking your teeth and tongue. 

You pushed against him, you tried to unglue yourself from the nature blossoming inside. It wasn’t nearly enough. 

“The more you resist,” he groaned and kissed around your mouth slowly making his way back to your mouth. “The worse it is..”

Geralt fumbled with his armor, shedding it fast when he released you to sway where you stood. And before you knew it, his naked form stood in front of you, the muscles with dark swirls of hair coating his chest and down a wide trail over his abdomen toward his chubby, thick cock.

You lunged to the left, but you were too overcome by the nature of your place in this culture. Geralt grabbed you about the chest and waist and walked you toward the bed. Shaking your head, crying was met with his Alpha hum. 

He tossed you on the bed back first, stripped your pants away and pulled off what was left of the tattered shirt. Head half empty, the other overpowered by lust, beckoned him to fulfil his duty. 

And as he pounced on top, before you could stop yourself, your fingers traced over the mounds of his pecks, around his shoulders and pulled him toward you. 

Geralt’s tight grin, his yellow eyes delighted in your sudden offering. But he grabbed your wrists anyway, held you down below him. And without much care, squeezed his way past your slippery folds. 

His mass pounded your body into the bed. His slick, porcelain skin slides against the tops of your nipples, you swear the briny dripping from him is your ultimate undoing. He takes from you, but his thrust gives in its own ritualic way. There was no escaping the act of completion, and as the swollen feeling in your clit cascaded into bone aching bliss you fell into his command. Your Alpha Prime, the second man in your life. 

He flipped you over, ass up and fell back into line with his rhythmic thrusting. It didn’t matter that he spread you further, had a handful of your face in his hand pressed against his jaw. He powered away inside of you, dropped his lips along your neck. And with his other hand, he held your head down, licked the stretch of moist skin there slowly. 

“I claim you,” Geralt whispered and buried his cock deep. His teeth nipped the skin of your neck, your ass arched more, craving the pain of his depth. And his bite pierced at the same time he spilled inside of you. Your whimpering, the small, surrendering mewl flared his nostrils as he bit down harder. 

The door slammed open smacking the wall, your eyes rolled in your skull before falling on the shape of Sy. He walked in and shoved it back shut. 

“I can’t wait any longer,” he groaned and began to peel off his clothes. “I can smell her down to the kitchen…”

Geralt tried to move inside of you. Another round of simpering whines called from your mouth. Sy rushed to the side of the bed where your head rested.

“Don’t,” Sy warned. “You’ll hurt her.” he said softly while stroking your hair. 

“Lay there with her, hold her. She’ll bond with you until you can pull out again.” he instructed.

Sy sat on the floor, he laid his head not too far away from your own as Geralt wrapped his arms around your back to your chest. You stared back at him as he gazed at you achieving peace.

“Good girl.” he whispered. 

Geralt turned his head back into your neck, humming low, and sniffing your hairline slowly it stimulated the vibration of love deep inside of you. The rush spread.

“Now you have two of us.” said Geralt.

“It’ll be my turn next,” added Sy. “We’ll take care of you, baby.”

The Next Morning

The brothers ran together last night. Their howls carried through the room and even invaded your sleep. Dreams of a black wolf, a white wolf, fog, wilderness kept you stuck to the bed most of the early morning. 

The night sitter brought Astrid to the room as the sun rose. And you spent time with your daughter despite the ache in your body. When the voices in the cabin began to grow louder you knew they were home again. 

You wondered if it was easier for Geralt, the change that night. Not that you saw it in person. But you couldn’t help but feel that your new mate somehow deserved a painless shift. 

And when the sitter came bounding back in off the energy surging through the home. She scooped up Astrid. 

“The Alpha Prime’s are asking about.” her bubbly voice softly rang.

Even if you did feel for Geralt, the night before was remembered. “I don’t care.” you said and got up from the bed. 

“I’ll have some coffee up here.” you added and headed toward the bathroom.

You ignored the smell of food wafting into the bedroom after the shower. Your eyes landed on a tray on the end of the bed. A platter of toast, fruit and thermos of coffee waited for you. 

And so did two tall, disgruntled men.

“Why didn’t you come down?” asked Sy, pushing away from the closed door. 

Geralt slowly walked toward the bed, but turned his back to you and Sy by looking out the window.

You glared at Sy. “You--neither of you gets to decide -”

“Ah but we do.” Geralt butted in, hands clasped behind him he turned from the window.  “The moment you felt me enter your slippery cunt you belonged to the both of us.”

You look to Sy for support but he just stared back.

“From what I’ve learned you have no choice but to submit.” Geralt glanced across the room for affirmation, Sy simply nodded. “Therefore, you will learn to love it.”

You started to snap back, yell, spit anything but a low growl began from Geralt that stopped you in your tracks. “I don’t want to hurt my...mate.”

Geralt and Sy walked toward you, the silver haired at the left, the bushy faced man at the right. Sy put his hands on his hips and grinned kindly back at you.

“We want you happy, dove.” Geralt carcasses your face, he dipped in and began to sniff your cheek, down your neck. “God, do you smell that?” he asked Sy.

Sy stepped over, you turned your watery eyes to him. He was softer with his eyes, gazing at you with love. Geralt held the back of your head allowing Sy to lean in toward the pulse point on your neck and ran his nose across your skin.

“It’s sweet. Like honey, or some wild flower but deeper, yes?” he asked Sy.

He knew that smell alright, the deep resonant fragrance coated the back of this throat. It flipped a switch in the back of his mind as he breathed in deep. He wouldn’t have to mate to procreate, not for a few months.

“She’s pregnant. That’s the smell..and it smells like she has both of us in there.”

....to be continued...

[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

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

Until now. 

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

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

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

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

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

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

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

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

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

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

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

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

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

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

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

How could a man not look twice?

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

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

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

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

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I- I–"

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

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

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

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

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

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

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

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

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

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

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

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

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

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

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

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

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

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

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

A lady that he had found at last. 

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

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He loved the thought. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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.