#syverson fluff

[f10werfae]

Pretty Girl

pairing: Dad!sy x Pregnant!Mom!Reader

summary: Baby Ellie has her daddy wrapped round her little finger, but so does her momma. After-all they’re his pretty girl (smut)

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Hey pretty, c’mere and give me a kiss” Sy cooed nuzzling into his wife’s side on their bench swing in the backyard, his hands rubbing over her exposed bump which was housing their second baby. “mhm okay” She gave in ultimately giving him a soft wet kiss, having to push him away for a breath. “D-da d-da” Both their heads turning to face their 1 year old babygirl, who was settled on her play mat out in the shade.

Aika rested her head on her paws whilst on the play mat, letting baby Ellie rest her body against hers, ultimately using Aika as her backrest. The Syverson family was spending this nice summers day out on the porch, with Ellie clad in only a diaper just to keep her cool. “Yes my gorgeous girl, ya enjoyin’ bein’ out here with your momma and dada?” Sy cooed slipping off the bench and onto the mat a few feet away, Ellie was holding up her own bottle as she drank away, her other hand reaching up for Sy’s hand.

Ever since Ellie had seen the effect of the word ‘da’ on her daddy, she’s been using it ever since as a sign of a beck and call. “Da, da da” The soft curled bundle of joy tottered away from Aika’s body and wobbled her way onto her daddy’s lap. “Aren’t ya jus’ precious sweetpea, you n your mama n’ baby brother” Sy growled peppering kisses all over Ellie’s face until she started giggling and had to push his face away.

“Sy stop it and give her a chance” Y/n giggled watching, knowing damn well her babygirl loved giving out kisses too, Ellie’s lips already pouting out to land kisses on her daddy’s beard covered cheek. “mwah da” Ellie babbled happily, her curls bouncing with her, her hands on his shoulders to stabilise her standing up. “Wow babygirl, best kiss av ever gotten” Sy gasped hugging her tiny body to his immediately, carrying her onto his lap again.

“Da-da baba?” Ellie pulled away looking up with her innocent doe eyes, picking up her empty bottle up to her daddy, another small pout playing on her lips. “N' here I thought you wanted to cuddle with dada” Sy playfully scoffed settling Ellie down by Y/n, their babygirl wasting no time in cuddling on her mama’s lap, her head resting on her chest, her tiny hands feeling the baby’s kicks; her eyes twinkling watching Sy walk inside with her precious baba.

“got daddy wrapped round your lil finger baby” Y/n smiled nuzzling her head against her baby’s, pressing a big kiss on her cheek as she rocked her gently. “One baba per request” Sy said rocking back into the backyard, shaking the small lukewarm pink bottle in his hand, testing the temperature on his wrist before he handed it back to his little precious petal. “mm baba dada” She said handing it back to him.

Sy smiled picking up the tiny tot and sitting down beside his wife with Ellie laying across his lap as if she was a newborn again. His hands steadily holding the baby bottle to her lips as she suckled softly, her naturally wide eyes peering around the garden at all the different birds before settling on the baby blues of her dad. One of her hands reaching behind her for her momma and the other holding onto Sy’s hand that was holding the bottle.

“Think she’ll go down for a nap soon?” He smirked looking up to his wife, that same playful lustful loon in his eyes whenever his eye caught hers, his head leaning down to kiss and nuzzle against the side of her face like a possessive bear cub. “Oh yeah she’s your daughter Sy honey, fill her belly and she’ll be knocked out soon enough” Y/n swooned, leaning her body towards him as her hand patted down his soft stomach and body.

“See look her pretty lil eyes are already closing, must be the cool breeze helpin cool her down too” Checking her nappy was still clean, after about 15 minutes Y/n had burped and lulled her babygirl to sleep, ultimately leading her to put her down in her crib. Turning on the baby monitor and adjusting the room temperature, Y/n left the room slightly ajar as Sy and her retreated to hanging out in their shared bedroom.

“I ever tell ya how pretty you are? Especially when you’re full n’ round cus a’ me” Sy poses on the bed like a girl, his feet swinging in the air as he lay on his stomach, his hands cupping his face whilst he just stared at his wife. “Yes loverboy, you tell me at least every hour”

“That can’t be right, i’ll make sure to say it every minute then” He joked rolling onto his back, guiding her to sit on his lap, his hands immediately clasping around her body to cage her closer to him. “But seriously you are just gorgeous, jus’ how do you get even more beautiful the more life goes on” Y/n soon found herself feeling hot and bothered the more compliments and kisses she received, not to mention the subtle ass squeezes Sy had managed to squeeze in between his monologues.

“Stop it Sy please” She whined carefully tracing his brow with her thumb, trying to distract herself from looking into his eyes which were desperately trying to catch hers. “What can’t I pay my pretty mama compliments? I’m havin’ to stop myself ‘ere” Growling lightly he slightly jerked his hips up, letting her feel his hardened cock through his grey sweatpants, his torso bare. “Fuck Sy”

“I know baby m’sorry, I can’ help it, anytime I see you, smell you or hear you, the little guy gets excited n’ needs ya” Rubbing up her back soothingly under his shirt she was wearing, he felt her slowly start to shift herself back and forth on his lap, her wetness starting to leak through her thin cotton panties to create a darker stain on his pants. “Oh baby what are ya doin?”

“I need somethin Sy, seein’ ya be such a good daddy to Ellie and how you’re just so fuckin’ sexy it actually kills me” She suddenly broke out into a curse, seeing Sy basically move around the house was like porn for her, seeing him tend to the laundry and housework? She was about to bend him over if she could. Seeing him try his absolute best to lighten her load, even taking his babygirl Ellie out on his walks just so she could have some peace and quiet.

“You gonna use me baby? Get what you need momma, so fuckin’ pretty like this, my perfect angel, got my cock all swollen jus by bein you” He pushed back some of her hair away from her face, her expression furrowed as she quickened her pace knowing it wouldn’t be long before Ellie woke up again. “Y-you make me feel so good” Moving her underwear to the side she let her bare sensitive pussy rub against the fabric of his sweatpants, the head of his cock peeking out of the band as per her request.

“Hold on pretty-“ He gasped pulling down his sweatpants to his thighs, letting them feel each other’s skin as they humped against each other lovingly. Her swollen lips parted to hug around his shaft, covering his length in her slick wet juices, the lewd sounds filling the bedroom along with her whines and whimpers; the both of them being careful to not be so loud. “So soft” He would whisper out as his thumb caressed her sensitive nerve, watching her face contort whilst he stimulated her clit.

“You gonna cum for me pretty girl? Can feel it, come on baby I want it so bad” He whispered against her neck, his lips inching upwards until they reached hers. His tongue slipping into her mouth engaging it in a wet spit filled kiss, keeping her quiet. “M-m gonna come Sy” She whispered urgently feeling that band in her stomach grow tighter, with it eventually snapping once one of Sy’s paws wandered up to tug and rub at her hardened nipples. “Aww baby you did so good, m’ so prouda you pretty, makin’ yourself feel good on your man’s lap” He cooed in between grunts as he tugged at his hardened shaft to squirt ropes of cum onto her pussy.

“You proud of me” Y/n smiled hazily leaning back, massaging his cum into her pussy, her eyes peering at him as he brought her back in for a sloppy make-out session, leaving both their chins shiny with spit. “Fuckin’ best thing ta ever happen to me”

(this fic is not proofread)

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PSA: Haven’t updated in so long but i’ve honestly just been enjoying my summer🫶Hope you enjoy this Dad!sy fic

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

taglist: @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @cilliansangel @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @sweetybuzz25 (comment to be added!)

[viking-raider]

Syverson Family War

Summary-> You've just gotten off a 12-hour shift at the hospital, only to return home and get swept up into a Syverson Family War, between your husband and three children.

Pairing-> Austin "Sy" Syverson/Reader

Word Count-> 3.2k

Warnings-> PG: FLUFF, Cotton Candy Fluff, Light Teasing, Soft!Sy, SAHD!Sy, Nurse!Reader

Inspiration-> This Instagram Video (If this isn't Sy vibes, idk who Sy is!)

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction!

Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

You were more than excited to be home after a nearly twelve hour shift at the hospital. Your back throbbed and your feet were screaming at the top of their arches from running up and down the ER department. You didn’t even bother gathering up your tote of stuff, as you got out of your car, since you had the next two days off. So, they would wait until a two hour long bubble bath and a nap with eternity.

But upon entering your modest, two story Ranch house, you were bombarded by silence. Your eyes narrowed as they scanned the dining room to your left and living room to your right, ears pricking up for the slightest movement from the bedrooms upstairs.

Something was clearly off. It was almost never this quiet in the Syverson household.

There was always some sort of ruckus or chaos in motion. Your husband blasting music in the garage, where he had set up a small work-out area or telling off whatever game was playing on the enormous tv in the living room. If it wasn’t Sy, it was a combination of your three kids. Your two boys wrestling each other over a toy or giggles, or your daughter discovering a new, little critter from the backyard and bringing it in, before promptly losing it. Or all three kids getting into mischief with each other somehow.

But when it was silent, you knew there were real shenanigans afoot.

You drew in a deep breath, mustering what energy you had left inside yourself, for Syverson Madness. “Guys! I’m home!” You called out, swinging the front door shut with a little more strength than usual, as you moved a step deeper into the powderkeg. “What are you nuts up to?” You mumbled to yourself, moving towards the living room, still trying to keep yourself alert for any kind of trap or scare.

Little good it did, as a strong hand suddenly grabbed your elbow and yanked you backwards into the dark portal of the laundry room door, with a yelp. The hand shifted to your mouth and the door closed with a soft click.

“Ssshh.” Sy cooed at you, moving his hand away. “Gotta keep quiet, Sugar Butt.” He chuckled at you.

You could hear the smirk on his bearded face, before he clicked on the tactical flashlight he was carrying. You looked him over in the dim light, discovering him in his full Army tactical gear, minus his bare feet. He even sported his night vision goggles clipped to his helmet.

“What in the he-” You were about to demand, scanning him again, but spotted one of your son’s Nerf Rifles strapped to his back. “Give me that!” You huffed, gobsmacked, as you took the light and started checking him and the laundry room out. “Good Lord, Almighty!” You laughed, shaking your head.

He had a Nerf pistol in his thigh holster, a pump gun on the dryer, a blaster beside that, and copious amounts of ammo on the washer, with pop grenades. Which you knew were filled with either baby powder or flour from the last time a Syverson War had been declared on the house.

You looked up at your husband, bottom lip trapped between your teeth for a moment. “How long has World War Syverson Seven been going?” You asked, completely amused by how lost Sy got into playing with your kids, and how much they loved it when he did.

Sy looked at his watch. “Since just after breakfast. Myles chose violence and shot Ada in the back, while she was trying to color a picture. Tears ensued, which caused Colt to declare revenge on Myles, in Ada’s name.”

“You got roped into this, how?”

“Ada got in on it, insisting she didn’t need a man to defend her honor…”

“That’s my girl.” You chuckled, smirking.

“It is.” Sy laughed back. “But, in defending her own honor, she shot me in the leg, while I was trying to get them to chill out.”

You nodded your head, seeing all the pieces fall into place. “Which, obviously, by the Syverson Code, requires you to defend your own honor.”

“Obviously, Angel!” Sy answered, faking outrage. “You should know that, after fifteen years!”

“Fifteen years, and I’m still jotting things down in the Syverson Code of Conduct booklet!” You laughed, shaking your head, there were a lot of things Sy lived and would die by.

They were many of the things that made your heart swell with love for the burly, ex-Army vet.

“So, how do I configure into this madness?”

“You just got home from a super long shift, Sugar.” He answered, brow pinching. “You’re an innocent bystander. I just had to save you before one of those hellions out there shot you.”

“My savior.” You cooed, pushing up on your toes and kissing him. “My back and arches appreciate you.”

“The Lair is off limits, per usual.” He informed you. “We just have to make it out of here and upstairs.”

“Quite the way.” You commented, mentally mapping your and Sy’s route out of the laundry room, through the living room and entryway, then finally up the stairs and home free to the master bedroom, which was referred to as the Lair, where you could rest without having to worry about the family war.

“All right, Captain, what’s the plan?”

He gave you the Syverson wink and reached over your head, there was a sharp click and from outside the laundry room, you heard the kids’ screech. Sy had thrown the power switch to the house, plunging it into the darkness. You chuckled, smirking, understanding his tactic now.

“Stay close.” He whispered to you, clicking his ammo to his vest on, before moving to the door. “The enemy is sneaky and uncivilized.” He said, pressing his body against it, listening carefully to the other side.

“Like their father.” You mumbled under your breath with a snort, huddling yourself against his back.

“I’d say more like their mama.” Sy commented back, reaching back to pop you on the bum, then slowly cracked open the door.

You shuffled out after him, casting glances over your shoulder every few seconds. It was easy going, getting through the living room. Sy had defended it mightily throughout the day, so the kids had become shy about entering their father’s domain. You trusted Sy to protect you, from everything, your kids included. Silly as that was to think.

“We have movement at 12!” Sy called out, catching your nine year old, Myles, through his night vision in his fort, consisting of the dining table and chairs that he was hunkered down underneath, belly crawling from one end towards the other, closing the gap between himself and the entryway. “He’s under the table. A sneaky little sniper boy.” He snickered, shouldering the Nerf-AR resting against his side.

You scrunched yourself up behind Sy’s wide and muscular back as Nerf Darts started whizzing by, striking the scuffed wood floor or sticking to the walls. Both Sy and Myles laughed maniacally as they shot at each other; tossing weak insults on top of it.

“Milk drinker!” Myles shouted, hustling to reload.

“Lizard eater!” Sy shot back, smirking.

“Now, boys!” You scolded weakly, snorting.

They continued their assault, Sy guiding you towards a pocket the bottom stairs provided coming down into the foyer, allowing you to take cover and him to shoot through the bars of the steps.

“Are you hit?” You asked, playing along with the game.

“Nothing I’ll die from.” He answered, reloading his weapons. “But, you can be a good nurse and kiss them all better.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“That’s cheating!” Myles yelled out.

“Well, If I was over there, I’d do the same thing to you, Bud!” You called back, planting a kiss on Sy’s cheek, his well-groomed beard tickling your skin.

“An aid relief truce then?” Myles suggested, poking his head out from under the table.

“Certainly not!” Sy barked back, popping a Nerf dart off over his son’s head, sending him scurrying back into his fort. “She’s my nurse! I found her out wandering the battlefield, unprotected. If you wanted her to be your nurse, you should have found her first, yourself!”

“I almost did! Before you kidnapped her!” Myles huffed, hotly. “You’re holding her hostage!” He suddenly insisted. “Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll rescue you!”

“Oh my, a hostage situation.” You sighed, licking your lips. “I appreciate your devotion, son.”

“Ha.” Sy scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, boy. I’m escorting this lovely lady to the Lair.”

As Sy and Myles argued over who was going to have the pleasure of accompanying you upstairs, you caught a slight movement behind you and Sy, lurking in the darkness of the living room; moving slowly. It vanished behind the couch, and for a moment you thought it was just Aika, but when something popped up over the back of the couch, then quickly ducked down again, you were then positive it wasn’t the old girl. But your Daddy’s girl, Ada. Of all the children, six year old Ada was the most like her father. She’d been attached to Sy’s hip from the moment she left your womb. Hanging on Sy’s every word, movement and action, that sometimes it spooked you.

So, watching her stealth around in the dark of the living room was both impressive, amusing and a tad terrifying. Especially since you knew the little hellion was coming for revenge on her father and brother. There were no alliances between them during a Syverson war. You were the only ally allowed to go between the four of them. Mending wounds, mostly pretend ones, but sometimes there were real ones. Sometimes, you’d team up with one of them, to take on the other three.

“On your six! In the living room, babe!” You warned, snagging the Nerf pistol from Sy’s thigh holster as he reacted, purely by instinct, removing one of his baby powder pop grenades, tossing it behind him without looking, trusting your instruction.

Ada startled, surprised that you had noticed her, followed by a cloud of baby powder obscuring her view. She came to a halt, upon hurdling the back of the couch, in an attempt to overtake you and Sy. You took aim and fired, the Nerf dart hitting her square in the chest.

“Nice shot, hon.” Sy nodded, patting your leg, then called out to his daughter. “Sorry, Cricket, but that’s a kill shot.” He told her, his voice soft, but uncompromising.

Ada huffed, pressing her lips together. “Not fair, Mama isn’t supposed to shoot us! She doesn’t have anything to avenge!” She protested, crossing her arms.

Sy chuckled, cocking his head at her. “Mama has her own special rules in our Wars, you know that, Cricket.”

“I’ll come kiss it better, but you know Daddy’s five minute rule.” You chimed in, feeling bad about it, you honestly hadn’t meant to hit her, it was just a lucky shot.

But rules were rules. You could go and kiss her boo-boo better, allowing her to enter the War game again. However, Sy had made a rule that anyone hit with a Kill Shot had to be dead for at least five minutes, before you could render aid to them.

“All right.” Ada sighed, before flopping to the floor with a dramatic sound.

“Where were we?” Sy asked, then nodded. “Right, Myles, kindly allow me to escort my Nurse upstairs.”

“No deal, Pops.” Myles replied, shaking his head.

“Can I just go upstairs on my own?” You asked, peeking at your son through the spindles of the stairs.

Myles was quiet for a moment, considering. “Only if I get to keep you to myself for an hour!” He finally answered.

“Oh, he drives a hard bargain, that son of yours.” You teased Sy, tickling the back of his neck.

“That he does.” Sy agreed, shivering, as he brewed over Myles' offer. “You can have her for thirty minutes!” He negotiated with him.

“Thirty minutes!” Myles barked in outrage.

“You have to go to bed in two hours, boy!” Sy reminded him.

“So, give her to me for an hour!”

You smirked and pressed your palm to the base of Sy’s neck, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear, so only he could hear you. “Let him have me for the hour, Austin. I’ve been gone for twelve hours, and they have to go to bed in two. It’ll give me a little bit of time with them.” You reasoned with your husband. “We’ll have all night together after they're asleep, and the next two days, when they're at school.”

Sy nodded, rubbing his lips together. “You’re right.” He whispered back to you. “All right, you can have her for an hour, after you let her go upstairs and do what she pleases.”

A muffled yes came from the dining room. “Deal! You’re free to come out, Mama!”

“Thank God! I have to pee really bad.” You chuckled, kissing Sy, before scurrying out of your hiding place with him and started up the stairs, as you reached the top, you wondered where your middle child, Colt, was.

The seven year old was oddly missing in action the whole time the rest of you were battling and negotiating downstairs. As you reached the top, a cry filled the air, startling the life out of you, before a fury of Nerf darts peppered you all over.

“COLT!” You howled at the boy, dashing for your bedroom door and taking cover behind it.

“Colt Nero Syverson!” Sy’s voice called up the stairs. “You know the rules about firing upon your mother!”

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Colt’s soft voice whimpered in the dark to you. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“It’s fine, little man.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Just mind yourself.”

“Okay, Ma.” He smiled, ducking back into his hiding place; his room.

“Oh, this family.” You sighed again, closing the door and rushing for the en suite, tugging off your shoes as you went. “Ooo.” You cooed, enjoying the feeling of the icy tile on your bare, throbbing feet.

Bladder empty, you splashed some cool water in your face, then got out of your nursing scrubs, replacing them with a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top. You laid down on your and Sy’s enormous bed, dozing off for a couple minutes before getting back up to fulfill the promises you made to Ada and Myles.

“Colt, I’m coming out, please don’t shoot me.” You called through the crack you opened in the bedroom door.

“Okay, Mama!” He called back.

Coming out of the room, you stood at the top of the stairs, but frowned and turned, heading down to Colt’s room. “What are you doing, buddy?” You asked, peeking around the doorframe, seeing he had made a little barricade and was hunkered down behind his bed. “Why haven’t you come down to challenge your dad, brother and sister?”

“Oh, I have, Ma!” He answered, his smile showing off the two front teeth he lost a month before. “I’m just waiting for the most opportune time to go back downstairs to finish off whoever is left.” He sat up on his bed a little more, eyeing you. “How many of them are left?”

You smirked at him, slyly. “You know I’m not allowed to give away information to someone, especially if I’m not teamed up with them, little man.”

“Poop.” He huffed, slapping his mattress and sitting back. “Do you wanna be on my team?” He asked, hopeful.

“Sadly, your Papa had to bargain me off to your brother for an hour, so I could go to the Lair and change.” You informed him, giving him a sympathetic smile. “But, how about this? When it’s bedtime, I’ll come and read to you, whatever you want.”

“Eragon!” He gasped, enthralled again.

“Deal.”

“Deal!”

“All right, wee man, if I don’t see you before then, I’ll see you at bed time.” You cooed at him.

You headed back downstairs, pausing on the middle landing. “I’m coming downstairs, don’t shoot!” You announced to Sy and Myles.

“All clear!” They both called back.

You joined them downstairs, finding them just as you left them.

“Mommy, can I be alive again?” Ada called to you from her spot behind the couch.

“Yes, love, I’m coming right now to fix your boo-boo.” You replied, crossing the entryway and leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “There, sweet girl. All healed and alive again. Off you trot. Why don’t you watch a movie on your tablet, until bedtime?”

“Thanks, Mama!” She giggled, hugging your waist, then ran off.

With your daughter resurrected, you joined Myles in the dining room, and despite the soreness in your body, got under the table with him. “Just you, Colt and your Papa now, big man.” You told him, propping your head up on your hand. “Tough crowd.”

“But I got you, Mama.” Myles countered. “You can heal all my wounds.”

“Mm, that I can.” You nodded, casting your eyes past the table legs and made out Sy’s outline. “But, that’s about all the energy I’ve got for you. Bringing your sister back to life took a lot out of me. So, I can’t help you fight either of them.”

“That’s fine. I can finish them.”

You reached out and brushed your fingers through his tamed, black curls. “I have all the faith in the world in you, my sweet boy.” You cooed at him, lovingly.

“Moooom!” He groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Time’s wastin’, kid!” Sy called out.

“You stay here, mom. I’m gonna sneak around.” Myles said, wiggling back up the table towards the back entry of the kitchen.

“I’ll be here.” You replied, propping your head up on your hand, eyes drooping for a moment.

At least, you thought it was for a moment, until you felt a pair of strong hands grab your ankles and yanked you out from underneath the table, startling you awake from the nap you dozed into.

“Jesus.”

“Naw, just me, Angel.” Sy grinned, helping you up.

“Where’s Myles?” You asked, rubbing at the sleep in your eyes and noticing he wasn’t in his tactical gear anymore, but just a pair of shorts.

“Out cold in bed.” He answered, steadying you with his hands on your hips.

“But…” You frowned, glancing at the stairs over your shoulder.

“Colt came down not long after Myles tried sneaking around me through the kitchen.” Sy explained to you, a proud little glint in his blue eyes. “Took out both of us, the little rascal.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “We found you asleep and they understood you had a long day, and would spend time with them tomorrow, after they came home from school.”

You pressed your forehead against his chest. “What in the world would I do without you?” You cooed, sighing heavily.

“I don’t know what we would do without you.” He replied, encasing you in his muscular arms and resting his chin on top of your head, rocking gently. “Let’s go to bed, love.” He whispered, scooping you up off your sore feet and carried you upstairs, to bed.

You moaned softly, sinking into the mattress as Sy tossed the blankets over you and kissed your temple, before joining.

[ramp-it-up]

Two Most Wanted Pt. 4...Anytime you Like

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: You have your way with Sy. Or is it him having his way with you? 🧐

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, talk of birth control, Graphic sex. Fingering, manual sex (f receiving) oral, Dom Sy is coming out to play, degredation AND praise kink, dirty talk kink, begging, raw p in v, size kink, pleasurable pain, rough sex, copious amounts of bodily fluids, some fluff and just a lil' angst at the end. This is 2.5k of porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot.

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

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

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

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

Previous part here

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Sy gladly let you pull him into your rental.

Then, he took control.

He pushed you against the wall and placed his hands on your waist, bending down because of the height difference, even though you were wearing four inch-heels. You’d missed how tiny he made you feel.

Sy’s mouth was so close to yours as he queried you. His eyes were so intense.

“You’re not done with me yet, eh?”

You pouted and his lips tenderly touched yours, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips. His tongue insisted that you belonged to him and yours agreed, the two dancing passionately.

“Good girl. Opening up for me like that.”

Your head was spinning and you whined in your throat. 

“Hm.” 

Sy grunted and then smiled before he kissed you again. You were glad for the wall as you were weak for him again. 

“Whatcha wanna do with me, Buttercup?”

Sy’s fingers were on your ribcage now, his large hands spanning your torso. Then, his hands were everywhere as he explored your body, from your breasts over your dress, to your back, down to your ass, which he squeezed as his mouth possessed yours again.

“I want to be your cum slut, Sy. Want you inside me.”

Sy stopped moving, resting his forehead on yours and his hands on your hips. He huffed into your face.

“Holy shit, Buttercup. I thought I was calm after what that mouth of yours did in the Bronco. But what that mouth of yours says…”

Sy’s hand was on your jaw and you turned your head to capture his thumb and suck it. 

“Wan’ you to fill me up, Sy.”

You looked him straight in the eye as he pressed the rock hard length in his pants against you. His pupils were blown and you felt enormous power.

“Hm. The thoughts you think, Buttercup.”

Sy examined your face as he questioned you, his blue eyes making you shiver.

“You want me to fuck you raw…?”

You smiled at his lewd suggestion and the gravel in his voice, and lifted your arms, placing them on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“I’m on the pill. And tested regularly. But only if you want to.”

The expression on his face was priceless.

“If I want to? Hell, Buttercup. I’ve wanted this for 20 years. Jesus, it's really happening.”

He looked as if he would devour you.

An unexpected joy at his want caused a giggle to bubble up in your throat as Sy rolled you around the corner, further into the room, and started trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck right below your ear. His hand was on your ass as you started to grind on air. He remembered your spot.

“Fuck, Sy!”

His other hand came up around your neck and tightened to let you know who was in charge, and you whimpered as he looked down at you and grinned.

You pouted at him, frustrated because you wanted to feel all of the things at once.

Sy’s hands roamed, finding your waist again and lifting your feet off the ground as he kissed you, making you heated at the show of his power. He set you down again, squeezing your breasts and sucking the tops of them in your dress as you writhed in his grip. 

“Let me see you in the light, Buttercup.”

He reached around and wasted no time in pushing his shirt off your shoulders and unzipping your dress to let it fall to the floor.

Sy stepped back and took all of you in. You felt like a piece of art as he studied you. You concentrated on not covering up. 

This was a long time in coming.

“Damn, Buttercup. You’re so beautiful. All of you. Better’n my dreams.”

Sy looked into your eyes after taking in your curves. Hungry.

“Kiss me, Sy.”

He did as you asked, hands on your breasts now, kneading them and weighing them in his hands, his thumbs thrumming you like an instrument. He kissed you fiercely, then looked into your eyes again as he slid down to inhale you, mouth sliding over your flesh, between, underneath, on top, and finally, sucking your nipples into his mouth with abandon.

You moaned as your pussy pulsed with need.

“Sy…please…”

“Don’t rush me now, baby. I’m gonna savor this.”

He kissed you again, and then slid his hand down your torso to your pussy, finding you still so wet for him.

“Hm. Such a good girl, with such a good pussy. Here. See.”

He held your gaze as he brought his fingers up and put them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

It was so dirty that you practically came from the taste of your desire for Jacob Syverson. 

“Thaaaat’s a girl. Get ‘em even wetter.”

He removed his hand and brought it back down to your cunt.

“I want you to cum for me. Right now.”

“S-Yyyyyyy!”

Most of his fingers went inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. He practically lifted you off the ground as he fucked you with his hand, watching your face as he alternated marking you up and sucking your nipples hard.

“So fuckin’ hot, Buttercup. Good girl.”

His voice was doing things to you. Sy grinned and his eyebrow arched as he felt you clench on his fingers. He brought his mouth close to your ear.

“Which is it, Buttercup? Are you a cum slut, or a good girl?”

Your head went back into the wall as you moaned, baring your throat to him again.

“Or is it both? Are you my good little cum slut?”

“Oh my fucking godddddd!!!!”

You came in his arms and Sy watched you, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t wait anymore.

He picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed as he took off his shoes and clothes. You sat up to look at him.

He was massive. Sy had matured from a lithe youth to a grown man and he was thick all over. The curls on his head continued on his face and on his chest, a dark rush of it pointing down to his cock, which you knew was big, because you’d tried to swallow it earlier. But seeing it like this, hard and throbbing, curved against his hairy stomach, large mushroom tip leaking, thick shaft throbbing, made you lean back with your legs open. 

‘I want that,’ you thought.

Sy took it in his hand and started stroking, causing precum to drip out and you to lick your lips.

“You’re about to get it, Buttercup. Anything you want. Look so fucking beautiful all laid out for me.”

You smiled as you realized you’d said that out loud and you opened your legs wider as he climbed between them. He handled you like a rag doll as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to his legs as he knelt on the bed. He grabbed your knees and spread your legs up and apart as his long thick cock slid in between your legs, smearing your wetness all along the underside of his shaft.

“Mmmmmmmm, Sy, want more.”

He was skating in your slick, driving you wild with the tease of the cap of his cock catching on your clit as he moved back and forth.

“Patience, Buttercup. Need to lube myself up with your cream.”

Sy was enjoying how wet you were and the fact that he was actually between your legs after all this time. He watched, almost mesmerized, at his cock moving through your folds, and his dick jumped, slapping you on the clit and making you moan.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… OH shitttt. It’s too much!”

You’d gone from begging for his dick to pleading for mercy as his thick head breached you. You stared at Sy wide eyed as he grabbed his shaft and stopped moving. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting you.

“You good? Want me to…”

He made to pull out and then you implored him.

“No! I mean, it’s so big, Sy… but I want it. Need. It.”

You grabbed your breasts as you felt him cock jump within you.

“More, please.”

“Mmmmmmoooooahhhh,” Sy groaned deeply as he slowly eased into you and at the vision of you pulling your own nipples as he stretched out your soul. 

He bottomed out and licked your exposed neck, causing you to shudder in his hands, which were gripping your ribcage. You looked like sin and felt like heaven around him. 

“You good, Buttercup? Please say you’re good. I need you to be good, baby. ‘Cause I need to fuck you so bad….”

Sy was panting and his heartbeat was erratic.

As always, his words made you gush wetness and you arched as you kissed him, laying down fully and bringing your hands to his short curls.

“I’m good Sy,” you looked him in the eyes. “So fucking good, all full of you. Fuck me. Please… ah!”

As soon as you said ‘fuck me,’ Sy started moving slowly, dragging sparks with with each millimeter of movement inside you.

“More…”

You whispered it as all of your senses came alive and were overwhelming you. 

Sy sped up and looked from your eyes to his cock destroying your pussy. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long, your face, your hair splayed out beneath you, hour breasts with nipples erect and bouncing, the way he was moving you like a doll as he helped himself deliver the dick to your pussy.

“Good god Buttercup. This cunt is so tight and wet and hot for me. Shit, you stretched around me is so much better than my imagination….”

“Ooooh. Sy. Feels so…Your cock goes so deep.”

It had never been like this before. With anyone.

Sy gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned back and grabbed your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half so that he could plunge even deeper inside you.

Your head shot up to witness him ravaging you as he slowly fucked you with long and deep strokes. You dug your nails into his forearms, holding on for dear life. He fucked you so good that you gouged scratches down his arm and the pain sparked a new pleasure in him that he didn’t know he needed at the moment.

He was inspired to fuck you better, faster, harder.

Sy reached up behind your head and pulled it down by the thick curls at your nape as he leaned over you, caging you in with his massive body as he thoroughly and soundly tried to put you under the bed.

Your belly tightened, your insides in a vice grip of pleasure as you tried to run. There was nowhere to go, however, as Sy was all around you. He felt you tense up, heard your whimper and kept a steady pace, his balls tight against him, the notion of making you cum with just his cock a long held ideal.

“What’s wrong Buttercup?”  

He looked you in the eyes before he kissed your lips.

“Afraid to let go? Don’t want to let me have the cum I’ve been waiting for?”

“Unh! Sy…”

You felt him in your belly, thick in your channel like he was made of you. You knew what was about to happen. And you wanted to get away from it.

Sy read the look on your face.

“Unh unh. You’re going to stay and take my cock like a woman. Not gonna run. You’re gonna take this orgasm, gimme your cum like I deserve it.”

Sy didn’t let up on the intensity, but he looked down and surveyed what he was doing to you.

“Look at all that beautiful cream. Looks so fucking good. Making me drool.”

You had an out of body experience as you watched the saliva leave Sy’s mouth and drip onto your clit and as soon as it made contact, you came, gushing more fluid in between you two.

Sy pounded you through it for a few thrusts, then he pulled out and rushed to collect some of you on his tongue.

“Goddamn. So fucking good, Buttercup. Taste yourself.”

He was up again and before you could protest, was back inside you, hand on your throat as he kissed you hard and deep, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his resolute pounding and the taste of your cum combined. He trailed his hand down your neck to your breast, rolling your nipple for a second before finding your hand and holding it above your head as he looked into your eyes. 

Suddenly, he became tender, looking as if he was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear, so your other hand found his ass as you encouraged him to find his own end.

“Gimme your cum, Sy. You owe me. Some. Cum.”

He licked his lips at the filth you were uttering and responded in kind.

“Anything you want, Buttercup. I’ve got so much, you’ll be leaking for days.”

You arched your back and bit your lip at his words and as the music of skin slapping on skin intensified. You felt yourself tighten impossibly around him again. And so did Sy.

“Oh…. no….” 

You felt as if you couldn’t take another, but Sy wasn’t done with you yet.

“Oh, yes, baby. Just give me one… more….”

Sy’s thumb found your clit and as you came around him, he emptied all he had inside you.

“You feel like…like heaven, Buttercup.”

Your hands were on his face as you watched his ecstasy and as he pumped more and more of his seed inside you. You smiled and kissed his forehead as his head bent in exhaustion. You wanted to say that he was beautiful, but that would be more than you wanted to convey. You just kissed his lips when he looked back up at you again, and you collapsed on your sides, your bodily fluids between you and his slowly softening cock still inside you.

Sy pushed your hair back from around your sweaty face.

“Look, Buttercup, I know that you are holding back. But you can’t stop me from saying it again.”

“Sy-”

“Shhhh, Buttercup.”

Sy smiled. Handsome wasn’t the word.

“I love you. ‘Til the day I die.”

He brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.

“I know you’re still trying to process everything, and I can only imagine all of the things that are going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but you’re mine. I’m claiming you. Whether it's for the rest of our lives, or just for this weekend.”

You just looked at him and nodded, emotional and unable to speak.

“Just want you to know where I stand. This wasn’t just notalgia sex.”

He slipped out of you and rolled over on his back before he got up and headed toward the bathroom.

“And for whatever time period I have you, I’m yours. Anytime you like, Buttercup.”

He looked back at you with a saucy grin as he caught you ogling his ass.

You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him turn on the water. There was a lot going on in your head, but Sy had just told you that he wanted you and simultaneously taken the pressure off this weekend.

You thought about what you wanted. And what you wanted was currently taking a shower. You walked into the bathroom to have some more of him. You opened the shower door and Sy reached out and pulled you in.

“Get in here Buttercup, the water’s fine.”

That grin would do you in.

Next part here

——

Hit Reblog if you like it!

[peyton-warren]

Fluffy Syverson Recommendations

@cynic-spirit asked on my post here for Fluffy!Sy fic. I decided to start a new post to try to gather some steam to get them recommendations. Here are mine in no real order other than how I found them doing a search. Please add more in comments/reblogs and I will continue to update this list as we go.

Loopy by @pterodactylterrace <<<< Possibly my FAVORITE ALL TIME FAVORITE SY FLUFF!!

The bear and his honey by @gummydummy19

Sweetest things by @mayloma

Syverson Family War by @viking-raider

A Year in Apartment 6B by @gummydummy19

Untitled Mother's Day Fluff by @geralts-yenn

Three-Jump Cowboy by @peyton-warren

Buns in the Oven by @littlefreya ( i cant believe I forgot this one in my original post!!)

More Angst than Fluff but I love them anyway:

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by @ellethespaceunicorn

The Bell Tower by @thesaucynomad

List of Sy Writers, Alphabetical (mainly so I avoid duplicates) but not inclusive of all Sy Writers:

@angryschnauzer

@beck07990

@cardierreh15

@captainsy-cookiemonster

@deandoesthingstome

@dungeonpuppykai

@ellethespaceunicorn

@feralrunaway

@geralts-yenn

@gummydummy19

@hope-to-hell

@imyourbratzdoll @keanureevesisbae

@jamneuromain

@just-chirpin

@littlefreya

@loganbcrnes

@martha-oi

@mayloma

@mrsevans90 @notabronte @oddsnendsfanfics

@peternoonewantsthat

@peyton-warren

@poledancingdinos

@pterodactylterrace

@raccoon-eyed-rebel

@ramp-it-up @rmtndew

@shellyshellshell

@shewriteswhenthewordscome

@sillyrabbit81

@sweetandgentlecreature

@swiss-mrs

@thelastsock

@thesaucynomad

@thezombieprostitute

@viking-raider

@winter2112rose

@witchersmistress

@wolvesandhoundshowltogether

Disclaimer:

Do not mean any offense to anyone not on the lists above. This is meant only as a start! Will build as more folks provide more stuff. Also check comments for more recommendations. I did not add stories that were added below to the above list. And a number or writers provided links to their master lists.

[eccentricallygothic]

Prompt: Survive a Syverson. Fluff, domestic.    

“Oh no, mama!” You vehemently shake your head at your future mother-in-law as you tiredly put down your plate. “I just had a TON of rice and so much chicken that I couldn't even keep track at one point!” You try pulling it away but she plants a much stronger grip on it. “I can't!” 

The older woman waves it away -as always- before she piles your plate with food again. “You're a growing lady,” she always tells you that. “You need to eat!” You whine under your breath. 

“I'll never be able to finish all these ribs and mac and cheese!” That is the rule in the Syverson household, everyone finishes their food, always. 

You can swear these people eat three times more than any family you have ever seen! Like, you just had dinner and Sy -your share of the lot- is already munching away on something as he stands beside you while leaning against one of the kitchen counters, clad in some cargo shorts and a semi-faded Lynyrd Skynyrd tee.

Mrs. Syverson sighs before putting one sassy hand on her hip -something the Syverson men swear runs in the Syverson women- and raises one of her eyebrows at you. 

“You think you can survive a Syverson on some rice and chicken, girl?” Your heart drops and your boyfriend's snicker causes a burst of flames to spread through the entirety of your face, the heat threatening to reach your throat. 

“Yeah,” Sy's heavy voice sounds even deeper because of the way he takes a sip of his beer to wash his throat out. “Do you, girl?” Your face and vocal chords are paralyzed in embarrassment as you lower your head and pick up your plate before silently walking back to the table and retaking your seat, defeated.

Sy is so going to repeat this into oblivion! 

“That's what I thought!” Mama calls after you before snickering softly but you hear it loud and clear. 

You can swear Sy gets his dirty, bold and loud mouth from that woman. His dad and you are their victims. Too bad the two of you love those filthy mouths too much.

[swiss-mrs]

You were asking for ideas about a future Sy fiction & an idea just popped into my head about “Shy Sy” & the “Karaoke Cowgirl”. Now, there’s NO WAY I could ever compare to your writing skills…but say Shy Sy calls & asks her for a date, she agrees, but everything goes horribly wrong……he spills beer all over her, clumsily trips over his own 2 feet, his truck gets a flat ( there is no spare tire), so they sit alone in the truck having the most fun conversation & maybe with a little cuddling to keep her warm?!?! (She only has a skimpy sundress on). As they casually talk, Sy becomes much more relaxed & finds her just adorably perfect?!?!

sorry this took so long. I have been going through some crazy writer's block. I think I got everything minus the beer😅 thank you for your support! hope you like this!💕

Your Shotgun Rider

Read Black Velvet (Pt. 1)

Word Count:

Warnings: Series of Unfortunate Events (First Date Edition), Adult Language, Some Suggestive Themes (No Smut), Petnames (darling and pumpkin), Reader is Able to Fit in One of Sy's Jackets.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing (The vibes: one two three four), No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Height, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "Girl"/"Pretty Girl" and "Little Lady"

Synopsis: After your meet-cute at the bar over the weekend, Sy gets you to go out on a proper date with him. Unfortunately, everything seems to be going wrong.

--💕👢💕--

It's time. Sy looked at the watch on his wrist and breathed out a heavy sigh. "God damnit!" He hits the steering wheel in a weak attempt to release some built-up tension. This was the 5th time he'd tried turning the ignition over to no avail. He was running good on time, thirty minutes early, to be exact, before he came out to his truck to try and head over to pick you up. Only to be cockblocked by his own damn pickup.

The last time he recalled, the thing was running smoothly. What in the hell changed?! He leans back in the driver's seat and drags his hands down his face in frustration, letting out a deep groan. His hands drop to his lap with a smack. With his eyes closed, he begins praying. "Please, to the powers that be, please let this God forsaken truck start so I can go see this girl." Without much hope, he opens his eyes and leans forward again to twist the keys again. Surprisingly, the engine roared to life.

Sy lets out a deep sigh of relief, closing his eyes and allowing his body to collapse slightly, forehead resting on the wheel. He lets out a chuckle in disbelief. "Thank you." He leans back up and shifts the truck into drive to head over to the address you'd given him when setting up your date over the phone.

Thankfully, you didn't live far. Your new apartment building was less than 15 minutes away from his house. He lived more on the outskirts of town as opposed to your apartment closer to the town center. He reckoned that if he pushed the speed limit, he could make it in there in 10. This was his town, after all. He knew the streets to avoid to be able to safely cut time.

Sy hated running late, much more now than ever. He didn't want to miss this opportunity. This was his first official outing with you. He had to make a good impression.

As he drove, all he could think about was you. Your laugh, your voice. Since you'd met two weeks ago, you two had built a strange little bond. You've gotten to the point where you can talk to each other like old friends, though all of it has been only over the phone.

You were extremely busy with basically zero down time. The combination of adjusting to your new job, apartment hunting, and now moving, you couldn't find time to do anything but work, sleep, eat, pack, and move. In between, you'd have your phone glued to your ear with Sy on the other end of the line.

Every time you talked, Sy could practically hear the stress and tension in your shoulders from carrying the weight of everything happening. He'd offered to help you move, but you turned him down, insisting you had more than enough help. Plus, you were moving things slowly, and didn't want to have him just drop everything he was doing at your beck and call just to move boxes. He never said it aloud, but he would be more than willing to be on standby for you.

Due to everything going on, Sy had made it his mission to make the little time you had together over the phone pleasant. Thankfully, you got his humor, so making you laugh was never a hard task. It hasn't been a day since he last spoke to you, but he already missed your laugh. Every time it came through the line, the image of your smiling face at the bar would pop up. Every time, without fail. It would always bring a smile to his own face.

The realization of him finally getting to see you in person again hit him hard when he finally reaches the street you live on. It's been two weeks. TWO WEEKS. He hoped you didn't forget what he looked like. Your image is engraved in his brain, one of his sweetest memories. That's when he spots you standing at the base of the stairs, just outside your apartment building. Somehow, his heartbeat both doubled in rate and stopped completely at the sight of you.

You're wearing a white dress that stopped mid-thigh. The skirt of your dress was light and flowy while the upper half was fitted to your frame, hugging you in all the right places. On your feet was a pair for dark brown cowboy boots. You looked utterly adorable and equally sexy. Sy found his eyes trailing along the skin of your exposed legs.

Sy pulled up to the curb, throwing the truck in park, and hoping out the driver's side to walk over to the passenger door, near the sidewalk.

As soon as he hopped out, your face lit up like the morning sun, eyes widening and face breaking out in a big smile. You wave at him and immediately start to speed walk over to him. Your sheer excitement made his heart warm. At least you were happy to see him, and in fact, did not forget what he looked like, as if you ever could. You fight the urge to run and jump into his strong arms.

"Sorry I'm late, darlin'." He blurts before you can get a word out. You're obviously taken aback by the apology. You scrunch your eyebrows and pout, tilting your head.

"Late?" You pull out your cellphone from your hidden pocket, clicking the screen on to check the time. "It's 6:03." You lock your phone and slide it back in your dress, looking back to him with a small smile. "There's no need to apologize for three minutes." You say positively. "You're here now, and I'm so happy you are." Your smile grows happily.

You have to clasp your hands together in font of your lap to physically contain yourself from jumping on the man in front of you. First off, you're overjoyed that you get to finally go on a date with him. Second off, he looks so damn good in his plaid button-down and jeans. You give him a quick once over. It looks like he'd given his beard a little neatening up. His shirt is ironed free of any wrinkles and tucked neatly into the waistband of his jeans. He has a brown leather belt that just so happens to match your boots perfectly. The circular buckle on the front has a horse on it, and his jeans hug his thighs just right, loosening back up as the fall passed his knees. On his feet are leather boots that are obviously a bit worn but sturdy. Must be his go-tos. Neither of you are dressed super fancy. Both cleaned up just appropriate enough for your date. You sigh out a happy sigh. "You ready to show me your moves?" You tease, raising a brow. Sy lets out a soft chuckle, showing off his teeth with his effortlessly charming smile.

"Now, little lady, I told you over the phone, 'I'm no dancer', but if it makes you happy, I'm more than ready." He gives you that smile that makes your knees go weak. He reaches for the door handle and opens the passenger door for you to get in. As you step closer, he holds a hand out for you to take, to use as leverage to get in the tall truck. You smile at him and give him a gracious nod and 'thank you' as you grab his hand to lift yourself into the seat.

Once you're safely in, Sy closes the door behind you and jogs over to his side, quickly hoping back into the driver's seat with one swift motion. He buckles up and looks over to you as he reaches for the gear shift, giving you another smile before shifting and driving off.

"Now, we have a little ways out til we get there. It's just outside of town. No more than 30 minutes." You look over at him as he drives, and he throws some short glances at you as he speaks. "So, uh..." He says, looking back and forth between you and the road. The happy, wide-eyed look you're giving him is making it awful hard to keep his mind straight. He clears his throat and decides to focus his eyes on the streets ahead of him, but the feeling of your eyes on him remains. "How's the move been so far? You likin' your new place?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your little smile grow a bit as you nod.

"Yeah, it's been going." You say with a soft chuckle and a shrug. "I at least have some furniture and kitchen stuff over, pots and pans or whatever, so I can now somewhat function out of my own place. It's looking a little less like a storage unit and more like a home, finally, minus the bedroom." You sigh and shift your gaze to the roads ahead as well. "I still have boxes to unpack and a bed frame I've been procrastinating having to put together, but it's nice." You smile, the pride of having a space to call your own swelling in your chest.

Sy glances over at you, eyes nervously shifting back and forth, contemplating his next words before just blurting them out. "I could help if you want." You turn to him to say something, but he continues before you get the chance. "I know you said you don't want me to 'be burdened with your move', which I would, by the way, be more than happy to help you with anything, so don't worry about burdenin' me." He quickly adds in, "I could at very least come by and put your bed together." He glances over at you again as if to let you know he's done with his little ramble.

You give him a little smile, so soft and warm it melts his heart down into his stomach. There's a short pause of you just staring at him with pure admiration before you nod. "Okay." You say with a smile. Sy raises his brows and glances over at you.

"'Okay'? Really?" He clears his throat, shifting in his seat a little in an attempt to cover up the surge of happiness that just ran through him. "Alright. I, uh, I keep some tools in the back." He points a thumb to the backseat. "After tonight, I could fix it up when I bring you back home, so you can have a proper bed to sleep on." He shoots you a smile, and you gently nod. He's so cute. You turn your head to look out the window. This burly man, 'if looks could kill' exterior mixed with his cinnamon roll personality played criminal tricks with your mind and your heart. It only left you pondering what he was like in action, when he was on-duty.

With his soft, sweet, and caring attitude towards you, it was hard to imagine him with a scowl, guns blazin', and dirty. It felt a bit forbidden, but a part of you was set alight by the pure fantasy of it. You could feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought. You purse your lips and try to quietly control your breathing, cheeks starting to burn a little. You nearly jump out of your skin when Sy speaks up again. "Is that alright, darlin'?" You turn away from the window to look back towards him, finding his gaze shifting between you and the road.

You take a quick breath in to try and compose yourself. You nod quickly. "Yeah, no, yeah, that's completely fine. Sorry." You shake your head and let out a small sigh with a smile. "Just got... caught up in my own mind." You try to play your fluster off. He throws you another brain melting grin.

"Well, hopefully, tonight can help you de-stress." He focuses his eyes back on the road, thank God. "New job, new apartment, new town." He shakes his head. "You sure got your work cut out for you." You let out a little laugh and a nod.

"You're telling me. Thank you for taking me out tonight, and thank you in advance for the bed." You give him a smile. He arches a brow and shoots you a glance out the corner of his eyes.

"Don't thank me yet. I might step on your feet, spill beer on ya or somethin'." He says, lighthearted but honest. You let out another laugh, filling Sy's heart.

"Okay, okay. We'll see how the night progresses, but I'm sure there's nothing you could do that would make me any less grateful. I'm truly happy to be here. I'm lucky to have met you." You say honestly. The way the truth rolls off of you was easy, but to Sy, it felt like you just gave him the world. He's about 98% sure you have no idea the effect your words affect him. His smile grows, showcasing his teeth proudly from behind his freshly trimmed mustache.

Before the conversation could deepen any further, a loud POP erupts through the truck, followed by an insane, anxiety inducing rattling and swerving of the truck.

You instinctively reach out to hold onto something, and Sy instinctively reaches a protective arm out to you, keeping the other one on the wheel to maintain as much control over the truck as possible. You had just made it on the country road highway not ten minutes ago, and from the sounds and feel of it, one of the tires popped.

Sy carefully pulls over to the shoulder, parking the vehicle halfway off the road. Thankfully, there just so happened to not be any other cars on the road, but, then again, not-so-thankfully, that meant no immediate help nearby.

As soon as Sy gets to the roadside, he takes his arm back to use it to switch gears into park. He looks in the driver's side mirror with a clenched jaw. You both already know it's the tire, but a big part of him just hopes that the mirror will give him a different answer. He holds in a string of curses, throwing open the door and hopping out. He turns to you once he's outside, "I'll be right back." He's visibly struggling to keep calm, and your heart is a nervous wreck from the loud noise and turbulence. You want to ask him to stay for a few moments until your heart slows back down, but you instead stay silent and nod.

He closes the door and walks towards the back of the truck to get a closer look at the tire that blew. Even though the doors are closed and the windows are rolled up, you could still hear the muffled swears Sy was letting out. Though, yes, the situation is terrible, and you feel bad. You couldn't help but giggle through your little heart attack.

You turn to look through the back window to find a very stressed looking Sy leaning his hands on the truck with his head down. You couldn't hold back a pity smile. Poor guy.

You could see him let out a heavy breath before standing up straight and waking back to the driver's side door. He opens it and pauses, fixing his jaw. He drops his head, letting out another deep breath before looking back up at you. "I'm sorry, darlin'." He starts. "The damn thing is completely busted, and I don't have a spare." He drops his hands from the truck to run the down his jeans. He reaches for his back pocket to grab his phone. You shake your head.

"Don't apologize. It's happens." Your optimistic tone and little pouty face softens the blow. He shakes his head with a chuckle.

"This has got to be the worst date. I'm sorry, pumpkin." He pulls out his phone, clicking the screen on and tapping at it. "One of my guys drives a tow truck for a livin'. There's no tellin' what he's up to right now. He's probably still workin', but imma try givin' him a call and see if he can lend a hand."

"Okay." You say with a relaxed smile. He sighs a soft grin, a gentle look in his eyes. His shoulders relax ever-so-slightly. He hates that you're stuck with him in this situation, but at the same time, he's glad he's stuck here with you.

"Just a minute, pretty girl." He winks, bringing the phone up to his ear and closing the door softly as he walks around to the front of the truck, leaning against the grill.

You watch him have the conversation through the windshield, waiting with your hands rested in your lap. The phone call doesn't last too long as barely five minutes pass by before he's hanging up the phone and rubbing a hand down his face. He doesn't make any attempts to move, so you take that as your opportunity to get out of the truck and walk towards him.

Sy lifts his head from the hand he has massaging his forehead to look over at you. "I'm so sorry, darlin'." He looks at you, guilt, embarrassment, and shame worrying his features. You shake your head and raise a hand to stop him, closing your eyes and looking away, a clear indication of not 'wanting to hear it'.

"No need. Like I said, you don't need to apologize for this." You lean next to him on the warm grill of the car and offer a soft grin. You lean over to bump your shoulder to his. "Any luck with your buddy?" He lets out another sigh, looking down at his phone.

"Well, like I suspected, he's still on the clock and currently helpin' someone else out, but he'll come and get us once he's free. Though, it may be a while." Sy slides the phone back into his back pocket before going back to rubbing his forehead.

"You know, you look really handsome." Sy looks up, removing his hand from his face and looking over to you. The smile on your face nearly makes him forget the unfortunate situation you're both stuck in. He can't help but adore the way your head is adorably tilted as you smile at him. It brings a little smile to his own face. He huffs out a brief chuckle and looks down at his boots, shifting his feet a little.

"Thank you, darlin', and you are just as beautiful as the day I first saw you." He gives you a pursed grin as if trying to contain his smile but failing. You blush and look away from him. You avert your gaze to the field just off to the side of the road, admiring the setting sun. The warm light makes you look as if you're glowing, and Sy can't seem to pry his eyes off of you. His eyes slowly find their way lowering, caressing your figure. "It's a damn shame you've wasted such a pretty little outfit on this."

Your head turns back to him with a scrunched nose smile and warm cheeks. Just then, the best idea pops into your head. "You know, it's not over yet." You pull out your phone, unlock it and open up your music app. "We still got time for a dance or two." You give him a teasing smile, glancing over your phone to him.

Sy shakes his head with furrowed brows. "You can't seriously be tryin' to get me to dance," He looks around, " out here."

"Oh, what?" You press play, setting your phone on the hood of the truck and stepping away from the vehicle. "Scared?" You reach for Sy's hand and weakly attempt to pull him to you. Sy lets you drag him off the truck with little resistance but doesn't let his face show how easily he's persuaded.

You close the distance between you two, Sy's hands finding themselves in yours. "Now, remember what I told you, darlin'.-"

"I know, I know." You hush him and pull him closer. "I don't care. Just dance with me." You squint at him, and he caves instantly, allowing you to bring his hands to your hips.

You tentatively leave your hands on his broad shoulders and begin swaying to the music, easing into a rhythm. You smile at him, gaining a timid grin back. Sy tries his best to follow your lead but is notably awkward and stiff. You can't help but giggle at this. "Hey, now, no laughin' at me." He says, trying his best to be stern but ultimately stiffling his own chuckle. You shake your head, trying to rid your body of its laughter.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry." You manage out through your badly contained giggles. Sy shakes his head at you with a smile.

Several songs and several close calls of him barely missing your toes pass before Sy finally loosens up enough for you to be a bit more experimental with your movements. You open the door to singing along to the songs you like the most. Sy surprises you with his own baritone singing voice, the shock on your face giving him the confidence to step back and spin you around.

When he pulls you back into his chest, admittedly a bit clumsily, you speak up, "Why didn't you tell me you had such a beautiful singing voice?" Due to the nature of the clumsy spin, you were tumbled into his chest, resting one hand over his heart and the other entangled with his. You could feel his heartbeat in your palm through his shirt. Its quick pace was endearing and sweet, causing yours to quicken as well. He gives you a bashful smile.

"I'm no singer, gorgeous." You scoff and roll your eyes.

"Oh, please. I quite literally just heard you. You're actively humming now!" You point out with a laugh. His chest rumbles with a chuckle. He shrugs and continues to hum along, leaving it at that. You give him a playful glare, which he ignores and only pulls you closer by your waist.

Not long after, the sun has disappeared to the point of turning the sky into a deep, royal blue, hinting at the dark night sky incoming. The headlights of the still running truck illuminate you two as you dance, creating your own personal spotlights.

Everything in this moment is sweet and wholesome. A day that started and continued to dampen Sy's mood ended up being one of the greatest he's had in forever, and every upside to this day is thanks to you. This was only your first date, but he knew from right then and there that he would one day make you his wife. He didn't want to scare you off, though, so he kept that thought to himself, twirling you around in the evening air.

Now that the sun was no longer providing its warm blanket, it started to chill. It could be smelt in the air before it began to fall. A spring shower was incoming.

Just as that fact became evident, little droplets started falling from the sky. At first, it was going ignored and partially unnoticed, but it couldn't be ignored for long as the droplets turned into a light sprinkle. "We should get back in the truck before things start getting worse." Sy announces, but you shake your head.

"No, no. Let's at least finish the song." You reply, giving him a bright smile. He melts and submits, letting you continue on with your singing and sways. He knows it's way too early to call it, but, God, he loves you.

Barely halfway through the song, rain starts coming down in clusters. The change happens within a blink of an eye and causes you and Sy to stop almost immediately. Sy pulls you in closer, flush against his strong body as if trying to protect you from the falling water. You let out a little squeak. "I think it's time to call it." He chuckles, ducking his head down to keep rain from hitting his eyes.

He starts leading you over to the passenger's side, keeping you as close as humanly possible the entire tread there. He throws the door open and damn near picks you up by your waist and throws you in. Just as your bum his the seat, you shout out, "My phone!"

Sy closes the door in response and runs back around the truck, grabbing your phone and jogging to the driver's side, hopping in and shutting the door behind him. He hands you your damp phone after doing a quick swipe on his jeans to get most of the water off of it.

You giggle as you take it from him, "Thank you." He chuckles with a head shake.

"You're a crazy little lady, aren't ya?" You tilt up your chin.

"Adventurous, Free Spirited, Yes." You proudly correct, matter-of-factly, earning another chuckle from Sy.

He looks over at you, convincing you your heart had stopped. His eyes hold nothing but pure adoration. You swear all your insides melted as soon as your gazes collided.

You both hold eye contact for what feels like an eternity. Time feels like a slow-motion movie scene, and despite the gloomy, blue hue from the rainy evening, the world suddenly has a rose tint.

You notice Sy's eyes drop from yours, down to your lips. You follow suit, but just as you were going to lean in, an angry shiver runs through you. Your eyes meet his again. A smile grows on his face. He scoots a bit closer to the middle of the bench seat to reach into the backseat, promptly grabbing a brownish Carrhart jacket and draping it over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent.

As soon as it's over you, you slip your arms into it and bring it tighter around you, using all your might to resist the urge to bring it up to your nose.

Sy gives you another award winning smile that brightens his eyes. He'd never liked his clothes on anyone else so much better than himself, but here you are.

You take this opportunity to scoot closer to him, meeting him in the middle of the bench. He raises an arm, inviting you into his side. You snuggle in close as he rests his arm around you.

Sy reaches forward to turn the heat on low to try and help you both dry off a bit faster without overheating. You being so cuddled up to him warms the pit of his belly. He smiles down at you before tilting his head to rest on top of yours. "This has got to be the best first date I've ever been on." You confess. He chuckles, the rattling in his chest causing your head to bounce slightly. He sighs, content and whole.

"Hopefully, the first of many."

--💕👢💕--

I hope you liked it!!😫💕

[princessaxoxo]

Baby, it's cold outside

Boyfriend!Sy x girlfriend!reader

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

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

Word count: 928

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sweetandgentlecreature]

Friendly Fire

Author’s Note: Hello, again! I’d like to thank everyone who liked, commented, and shared my first little project. The love it received was overwhelming for a newbie to the fanfic scene, and I’m so grateful for the input and encouragement. This story takes place in the same timeline as my first installation, so if you haven’t had a chance to read Homeward Bound yet, you can find it here. Don’t worry, though! There won’t be a specific timeline to follow. The idea is to give little glimpses into an established relationship, so you’re not missing anything (yet!). We started with a reunion, so it only seems fair to take it back to where it all began. I can’t wait for everyone to meet the new woman in Sy’s life. Happy reading!  Summary: Last night, Syverson met the love of his life. If only he could remember it. Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC  Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol consumption and weapons, adult language, and (almost) implied smut. Sy is his own warning. I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

“Oh, fuck me,” Sy groaned to himself. He threw a heavy arm over his face and sighed, doing his best to block out the sun as it creeped in through the blinds, but resistance was futile. Stupidly optimistic birds chirped their early morning songs, each shrill call rattling around in his skull like an angry swarm of wasps, wild and pissed off. His body felt heavy, his joints ached, and his stomach churned. “I’m gettin’ too old fer this shit.” 

Sy could handle a little hangover. He’d done it before, and Lord know’s he’d do it again. In truth, he’d been burning the candle at both ends since he’d made it home. Sy hadn’t taken a leave since his first year in the military. His reasoning? 30 days go by too quick, no use in getting comfortable somewhere just to pack up and ship out again. This time though, he’d decided that he’d earned a bit of a break. That, and his mama was threatening to cut him out of the will if he didn’t show his face at least once this year. Not that he’d get much, of course; that wasn’t the principle of her empty threats. He knew it just as well as she did. She was starting to get up there in age, and time waits for no one. Especially not for Clayton Syverson. 

Groaning softly, he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, heavy limbs moving a little slower than usual this morning. He stretched and yawned, balling up a fist to rub the sleep from his bleary eyes. A thought crossed his mind as he worked to get those old bones moving again and he stopped dead in his tracks, hand still over his left eye and mouth still agape. “Wait…how the fuck did I make it home?”

Sy took stock of the room around him. At first glance, nothing seemed to be out of place. Everything was just as he’d left it. The tops of the dresser and chest of drawers were bare, as was the nightstand. The laundry basket that sat atop the trunk at the foot of the bed was still there, filled with neatly rolled t-shirts, socks, and skivvies. The only things that seemed to be out of sorts were his bed (since he hadn’t had the chance to make it yet), and his jeans that laid crumpled on the floor at his feet. “Weird,” he mused, and pushed himself to stand. Padding off to the bathroom for that blissful first piss of the day, he lifted the seat on the commode to relieve himself. Hold on. Lift the toilet seat? He hadn’t had to do that since he left home, nearly a decade ago. 

“What the fuck is goin’ on, now?” Must’ve been a visit from the toilet seat fairy, since he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had stepped foot into this old house. Sy could feel the hair on the back of his neck start to prickle up as he washed his hands. When his eyes found his reflection in the mirror above the sink, he had to talk himself down again. 

“Get a grip, dickhead. No one broke in just ta’ use the can.” Wandering back out to the bedroom, he’d almost made it out into the hallway, when he’d heard it. One more step, and he might’ve missed it. The soft creak of old floorboards below gave him another moment of pause. Sy held his breath as he listened intently for a moment, almost willing the house to groan again under the shift of weight. Nothing. A rush of wind left his chest as he sighed and shook his head. He swore himself off of corn liquor, never again, and took the stairs two at a time on his way down to raid the fridge for something to eat. “Hmm…somethin’ smells good. Is that–”  Bacon. That ain’t no toilet fairy down there. Someone’s here.

Soft, tranquil humming echoed down the hall. Whoever it was seemed to like Fleetwood Mac, as they aimlessly flipped slice after slice of pork products into his skillet. A loud pop of grease made him, and the intruder, flinch. “Oww! Shit!” Then the tap squeaked, followed by the sound of rushing water, and Sy thanked God that he hadn’t had time to fix it yet. Good. He knew this old farmhouse like the back of his hand, so he knew exactly where the stranger would be standing when he'd walk in. They’d have their back to him, and he’d have the upper hand. Reaching blindly into the armoire to his right, he drew the revolver from the false bottom of the drawer and peaked around the corner of the doorframe. His thumb hovered over the hammer, ready to cock it, when what he saw gave him pause. Who he saw, was more like it. 

“I know you.” The words came tumbling out before he could stop them. Her head snapped up from the sink as she turned towards the sound of his voice. She was just as startled as he was. 

“Well, I sure hoped you would.” 

Turning off the tap and reaching for a towel to dab at her scalded hand, she leaned against the counter like she owned the place. Her hair spilled down her shoulders and back in effortless, mahogany waves. The shirt she wore was stolen, and wrinkled from sleep. The logo was faded yet unmistakable, and the hem fell to about the middle of her sunkissed thigh. Why was she wearing his Skynard shirt? She watched as his eyes grew wide with realization, and it made her laugh. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy,” the intruder smirked, and lifted up the shirt to reveal a pair of cut off levis beneath it. “You sure tried like hell, but…nothing happened. How’s the head?” 

Visions of last night’s bonfire flashed through his mind. It felt like flipping through a stack of polaroids. Everything was blurry, all soft and fuzzy at the corners. One minute, he was leaning against the tailgate of his truck, nursing a beer and watching as his friends acted a’fool. The next, Johnny was passing around a quart of his homemade moonshine and calling him a pussy for trying to turn it down.  Damnit, Johnny. Sy recalled that the eyes that stared him down from across the room now were the same ones that gleamed at him in the warmth of the flames that flickered between them the night before. If only he could remember how they got there. 

As if to read his mind, she nodded as she spoke, returning to the stove just in time to salvage the last of the bacon. “You, uh…you went a little hard with that paint thinner Johnny had. I just wanted to make sure you made it home alright. Hope that’s okay.”  Sy licked his lips slowly as he processed what she was trying to say, then gave a short nod. He removed his finger from the trigger and tucked the gun away again as smoothly as possible. He didn’t want to spook her. She made him breakfast, after all. 

“Right. Thank ya, Miss.” Deeming it safe again, he crossed the threshold into the kitchen and watched as she turned off the flame beneath the cast iron on the stovetop. He felt out of place, like he should be doing something to help, so he crossed the room to grab the orange juice from the fridge. 

“Merrin,” she finished for him, then reiterated. “I’m Merrin. And you’re…Sy? That's what they call you, right?” For the first time all day, Sy cracked a crooked smile her way and pulled down two clean glasses from the cabinet beside the sink. 

“Yes ma’am, but my mama named me Clay.” 

“Clay. Got it.”

Breakfast was served, and the two strangers sat down to eat it. Merrin filled him in on what he missed from the night before. Johnny bet Sarah that she couldn’t shotgun a beer faster than he could. He lost. Petey and Melissa snuck off to the woods to skinny dip in the creek and came back with poison oak in some pretty intimate places. Roscoe passed out in the grass, and Luke and James had to carry him back to the house. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Saturday night in rural Texas. He asked about her, where she came from and what she was doing in his neck of the woods. She told him how she’d moved to town about six months ago, how she’d bought that cute little split level on the corner of Oak and Adams street. All Sy heard, though, was that he could’ve been sitting here with her six months ago. Maybe he outta come home more often.

–

“So,” he started, rinsing the suds from the face of his plate as he stood at the sink. They’d demolished that stack of bacon and eggs and were working to clean up after themselves. “How’d you end up in my shirt?”

Merrin smirked as she dried a glass and tucked it away again. “You don’t remember?” She was all too pleased to share this story. Sy laughed a deep, hearty chuckle that rattled loudly in his broad chest and shook his head. 

“Well…” she teased. “We’d been staring at each other most of the night. I’d been waiting for you to introduce yourself, but after a while, I just thought I must’a looked funny or somethin’.” 

“Mhm…” he hummed, his eyes never once leaving hers. He’d had a cup of coffee and a handful of Advil with his toast, so things were a little clearer now. He remembered watching her from afar as she chatted and giggled with her friends. He remembered thinking he’d want to remember the way she looked when she smiled his way. How he wanted to remember the way the light danced in her eyes when she laughed. She continued before he could ask her to carry on.

“When you finally got the courage to make a move, you decided that I looked a little thirsty. You grabbed me a beer, crossed the yard, tripped over a tree limb, and…poured it down my back.”

Sy winced. Surely she must be joking. One look at the smile on her face told him that she wasn’t, and he groaned. “Well shit, sugar. I’m real sorry. At least let me–”

“It’s already in the dryer. Don’t worry, big guy. You can pay me back when you take me out to dinner Friday night.” She gave a playful pat to his chest and grinned, brushing by him on her way to clear the rest of the table. Sy turned to follow her, his eyes grazing over the curve of her backside as she bent down to grab a napkin from the floor. He smiled, stacked the plate into the strainer and tossed a dish towel over his shoulder. 

“Sounds like a plan, darlin’.”

[lainiespicewrites]

LainieSpice Masterlist

I wanted to compile everything because I think I'm going to start writing more!!

Captain Syverson

Oneshots:

The Christmas Cabin

The Christmas Cabin Part 2

Series:

Coach Sy Basically captain Syverson but a high school football Coach 😍

Coach Sy Ch 2

Coach Sy Ch 3

Coach Sy Ch 4

Coach Sy Ch 5

Coach Sy Ch 6

Electric summer: Sy and his old summer camp love reunite when they come back to camp as counselors!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Walter Marshall

Series:

I just want to feel safe

Part 1

Part 2

Henry

Oneshots:

Someone to take her home

A lesson in flirting

Clark

Professor Superman

Dune Part 2 series

The Atreides Era

Part 2

[f10werfae]

Daddy’s Princess Fairy

pairing: Husband!Dad!Sy x Wife!Mom!Reader

summary: Sy comes home to his newborn babygirl and wife after his last ever deployment, and he’s desperate to meet his tiny twin, and get into his wife’s panties (Dilf Sy) likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Daddy’s nearly home booboo, he’ll be out here any second now” Y/n cooed bouncing her baby girl in her arms, the two month old softly snuggled against her mama, the both of them waiting at the entrance of the military base along with the other families. Her eyes tracing each body that left the aircraft, her breath hitching when she saw her big hunk of a man step out, his head shaven but his beard grown rough and long. God he looked filthy but so sexy.

Biting her lip she saw him take off his dark sunglasses as he scanned the crowd carefully, his lips pulling into a smirk once he saw his baby momma waiting at the back, away from the crowd; holding his baby girl. Practically skipping all the steps he threw his bag to the ground, his built arms bringing his wife and newborn into his arms, this was his first time home since that night their daughter was conceived. That one special night by the fireplace.

“Fuck pumpkin, missed ya n’ your sweet self s’much” He grumbled inhaling her scent deeply as he grazed his nose up and down her cheek, his other hand cupping his daughter’s head, this would be the first time he would see her in person. “And this- this is Penelope, Penelope Syverson” Y/n giggled holding up Penelope up to Sy, and even he could see she already was his twin, the same grouchy look already.

“She’s stinkin’ adorable, i’d say jus’ like her momma but i’m seein’ frowns on her already” Sy chuckled seeing his babygirl whimper and wiggle, leading Y/n to place the tiny babe into his arms, and just the mere size difference between the father and daughter was enough to make a witch’s heart melt. “She missed you, anytime you wasn’t on the phone she’d cry and whimper until I played your voicemail” Y/n explained tucking Penelope’s bib a bit more, seeing how she was drooling onto her daddy’s arm.

“Awk babygirl you break ma heart, m’not leavin’ again, I can’t do it- that’s me done” Sy chuckled bending down and kissing her forehead, breathing out a sigh of relief, he was finally discharged and able to start the rest of his life. “Damn right you aren’t leavin’, we still need to give our bubby a brother” Giggling Y/n latched herself onto his arm, the happy family walking towards the pickup truck waiting for them; Y/n watched on as Sy carefully put his pride and joy into her carseat, pouting up at Y/n when he realised Penelope wouldn’t let go of his finger.

“Babe, jus pull your finger out come on” Y/n laughed as he shook his head, “no can do sugar, don’t want my babygirl thinkin’ am leavin’ her again, can’t be her first heartbreak”

“If ya let go i’ll give ya some of your treat when we get home, after I put Pen down for her nap” It hadn’t even been two seconds but Sy carefully pulled his finger out, kissed his baby bye bye, and jogged over to the driver’s side of the pickup truck. “Now ya gotta keep your promise, wait- are you even okay down ‘er” Sy questioned looking concerned down at her crotch, he knew how hard the healing process was for his wife, needing stitches and medication. It honestly broke his heart that she had to go through it alone, but she was strong and independent, just his typa woman.

“Yup! Doctor gave me the green light a while ago, jus wanted to surprise ya for when you got home, Captain Syverson” Y/n winked grabbing a handful of his thigh tightly, his eyes widening and smacking her hand off, “Jesus woman didn’t ya read the sticker on the car? There’s a baby on board” He joked intertwining their hands and kissing her knuckles, leaning forward and pressing a heated kiss to her lips, his beard scratching her face in the best way possible. His tongue venturing out to lick over hers, tasting his favourite watermelon lipbalm causing him to groan into their kiss.

“Forgot how much I missed these luscious lips of yours” He growled pulling away, kissing her lips once more before sitting back in his seat to look at her, his wife. “Yeah? What else did ya miss” She giggled leaning over and pulling him back towards her, both her hands holding onto his as she looked up at him, her fingers then playing mindlessly with the wedding ring on the chain around his neck.

“These other lips down ‘ere” Laughing his hands smoothed up her thighs, settling under her dress, right on top of her panties waistband; he could already feel that it was those cotton white ones that he had a thing for. She just knows him so well. “No you didn’t”

“I did” She winked pulling up her skirt enough to show the start of the soft cotton pants, pulling the skirt down fast enough once his fingers tried their way up again. “Nuh uh mister, only when the angel is bed do we get to play” She scolded turning the ignition on for him, watching as he scoffed and turned his attention to the road

-

“Alright princess fairy queen, ah need ya to get to sleep pronto” Sy whispered into his baby’s tiny ears, the tiny tot sleeping on his bare chest, her head nestled comfortably on the curls on his chest. Her tiny fist clutched peacefully as tiny gurgles and coos came out every time she hiccuped or moved. “Princess fairy queen? Really Sy?” He heard his wife ask from the nursery door, clad in her white silk robe, very clearly not wearing anything underneath.

“I need my little girl to know she’s the best of ‘em all, n’ that means callin’ her every nickname on God’s Earth so she knows how much ah love her” Looking down at his tiny tot, he felt the need to lean down and nuzzle his nose with hers, pulling away instantly when he heard a toot. A fart.

“Now was that from me or you?” Sy frowned holding her up to face him, her tiny eyes clearly shocked, her own farts had woken her up just from how loud it was; “Tell ya what bubby, you’re definitely your daddy’s daughter”

“Yeah there’s now way that loud thing came outta this tiny precious sugar cube” Sy questioned seeing the tired girl had gone to sleep in his arms again, thankfully for Sy’s sake she didn’t need changed, well not yet anyway.

It finally seemed like baby Penelope finally got the memo when she finally stayed asleep in her bassinet, after 20 minutes of him just whispering pointless happy memories of him and her momma, many soft baby back rubs and head scratches and of course with her binky in place. Princess Penelope was down for her nap. Now Sy could have his wife, any way he darn wanted.

“Momma, you spoil me too much” Walking into their shared bedroom Sy saw his wife, her robe untied as she laid on the bed waiting for him, a chocolate covered strawberry already in her mouth as she winked at him, her legs spread open showing off her glistening folds; she needed him as much as he needed her.

“Irish twins?” Y/n asked plucking the strawberry from her mouth, licking its juices from her lips as she quirked up a brow; Sy doing nothing but growl and rush to get rid of his white t-shirt and cargo pants. “I’d give ya irish triplets if it were possible” He snarked climbing on top of her, his body hovering over hers as he bit into the strawberry that was back in between her lips, his teeth squeezing the juice down the valley of her tits. His delicious welcome home treat, just for him to enjoy.

———

PSA:Hope you all enjoy this bit of Daddy Sy 😗

Library blog of works: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, please use library)

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See you all again very soon xoxo

- Fae

[viking-raider]

Sy's Therapy Barn

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

Pairing: Syverson/Reader

Word Count: 5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn't want sympathy, far from it.

Austin Syverson, also didn't do sympathy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which only amused the retired Army Captain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It's a stupid idea.”

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

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

Your big bear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, Syverson.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Part 7:

One Day We Won't Be

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: Confrontations and conversations.

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

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

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

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

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

Previous part here

——

May 2004

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggled as Sy chuckled and grinned down at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And a very pregnant belly.

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

“WHAT THE FUCK!?!?” 

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

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

She looked back at him triumphantly.

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

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

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

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

—-

June 2024

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

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

“Now who’s bein’ a creep, Buttercup?”

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

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

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

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

Sy looked down at you and kissed your forehead.  

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

You looked up at him, “What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sy leaned back to look at you.

“Equipment?”

You grinned.

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

Sy was interested now.

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

You bit your lip at how cute he was.

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

You lifted your hand to his hair. 

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

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

It only beat for you.

“Anything you need, my lady.”

You giggled at his foolishness. Sy laughed with you.

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

You looked into Sy’s hopeful eyes.

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

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

“Even if it's not my dream location.”

Sy smiled at you and grunted.

“Hmph. Avoiding me I see.”

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

“It wasn’t just you. It…”

“I know, Buttercup. Just teasin’ ya.”

Then his face turned serious.

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

Your heart dropped. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You told me that you were mine.”

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

“You weren’t square with me, Sy.”

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

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

Sy put his hand on your shoulder.

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

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

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

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

“I haven’t been hired yet.”

“You will be.”

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

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

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

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

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

He grinned at that. He raised his eyebrow.

“So, we’re in a relationship are we?”

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

“You know what….?”

Sy put his hands up and did some fast talking.

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

He took your hand and pulled you closer.

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

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

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

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

He was worth it.

“Okay, Sy.”

You finally looked him in the eye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The supercenter should have them.”

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

He was staring.

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

—-

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

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

“Same, Sy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open.”

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

Sy’s eyes rolled back into his head.

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

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

“Fuck, you’re so good for me, baby.”

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

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

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

“Fuck, you’re so thick!”

“So fucking tight!” 

You both exclaimed at the same time.

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

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

“Ugh! Feels s-s-so goooddd. Sy!” 

“Come on, give it to me baby!”

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

“Fuck! I gotta taste that shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bolted upright in the bed.

“I’m awake.”

—---

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

“Ooof! Sorry!”

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

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

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

“Becca?”

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

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

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

“How are you? This your little one?”

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

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

You inwardly cringed but said, “How cute.”

Becca, chucked her chin up.

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

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

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

Josiah was now tucked under his mother’s arm.

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

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

“Hey Sy.”

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

“Hello, Becca.”

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

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

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

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

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

You felt bad for all three of you.

“We do, don’t we?”

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

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

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

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

Becca grinned as before she turned down the next aisle.

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

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

“You good?”

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

“I’m great.”

You turned in his grip and gave him a kiss. 

“Let’s go home. I’m starving.”

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

—--

May 2004

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

Carla stepped in front of him. 

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

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

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

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

“Please get outta my way."

"No."

"No?" 

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

"Did I stutter?"

Sy turned to Tiffani. 

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

Tiffani crossed her arms. 

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

Sy threw up his hands.

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

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

Sy winced at Carla’s blunt words.

“Don’t get shy now, mutha–”

Tiffani put her hand on Carla’s shoulder.

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

“No.”

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

“No! Buttercup!!! Y/N!!!!”

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

“Just go man. Give her some room.”

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

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

“Hey, yo, man. You good?”

Gavin was concerned.

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

“This is wild, Ya’ know?”

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

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

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

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

—---

June 2024

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

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

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

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

And you still loved him.

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s winning?”

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

“I am.”

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

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

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

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

“Jacob Syverson!”

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

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

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

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

You were sobbing now.

“Oh, Sy…”

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

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

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

“Sy… I love you. I do.”

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

“Now. What exactly are you asking me?”

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

——

Hit Reblog if you like it!

Next part here.

[doll-r-t]

My Baby Bear

Syverson x reader

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

just a small drabble

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[eccentricallygothic]

|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now. 

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

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

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

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

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

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

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

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

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

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

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

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

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

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

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

How could a man not look twice?

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

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

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

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

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I- I–"

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

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

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

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

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

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

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

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

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

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

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

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

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

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

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

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

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

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

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

A lady that he had found at last. 

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

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He loved the thought. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

[shekeepswriting]

A Little More Heart (2)

[Syverson x Reader]

Word Count: 2821

Summary: You head home after a night at the bar.

Warnings: self-defense related anxiety

A/N: Thank you guys so, so much for all the kindness and support. I was blown away by the responses, and I truly appreciate it so much. So I’ve decided to keep going. I hope you’ll come on this little journey with me. I took the liberty of tagging the people who said they wanted to see more (it didn’t let me add some of you, but I did try). If you’d like me to take you off the list, just let me know!

Previous Chapter

You focused on taking deep, slow breaths as you walked along the side of the road, debating whether it was worth it to lose what little night vision you had by turning on your phone flashlight. You didn’t love the idea of not being able to see outside of the little circle of light it would provide, but you also didn’t love the idea of being hit by an unsuspecting car. 

You don’t know why you had walked to the bar in the first place. It wasn’t like you. But your cousin had called when she heard you were in town, sounded so excited to meet up with you after her shift at the hospital and promised to pick you up from the bar at 10:00. You didn’t know her very well anymore, hadn’t been a part of her life in a long time, but you’d had no reason to distrust her. 

After lingering in the parking lot for a good fifteen minutes with three calls gone to voicemail, you really hadn’t had any other choice but to start walking. In a town this small, there were no cab companies or ride shares to call. People  relied on family and friends to get them around when they found themselves without a car. And you were short on both.

Just as you pulled your phone from your pocket, headlights pierced the darkness, carving yellowed wedges of light onto the wet pebbledash road. A vehicle was approaching from the way you came. You moved even further off the road into the grass, and the driver flashed their headlights twice, acknowledging you. 

You raised a hand in gratitude as the truck rolled past you, but the light feeling was short lived as it pulled over in front of you. You sighed. 

It should have been a relief, an alternative to your long walk in the pitch black summer night, but instead it called to mind the first two minutes of every crime procedural you’d ever seen. And you really weren’t in the mood to be murdered. 

No one got out, but the cab light turned on, and you heard the passenger side window roll down. You took a moment to weigh your options, kneeling down for a moment in the damp grass as if retying your boot while you slipped the small utility knife out of the sheath you kept strapped around your ankle while traveling. You’d been raised to be prepared for the worst, especially when alone or around men. Anyone who wanted to harm you was sure as hell gonna bleed first. 

You approached the truck with slow steps, keeping your hand angled to hide the knife along the line of your thigh. 

“Now I know you didn’t survive traveling this long on your own by walking on unlit country roads at night.”

You heard him before you saw him, brows furrowed in confusion as you drew even with the passenger window. 

Sy. The guy from the bar. Under normal circumstances you can honestly say you would’ve been happy to see him again. But the current setting had you very on edge and reluctant to let your guard down.

“Not my preferred transportation,” you said carefully, looking him over.

For his part, it seemed like he was doing his very best to be nonthreatening, all the cab lights were on now, and he was leaning over slightly so that you could see his face fully lit and framed in the window. His hands were open, empty, and visible, one on the wheel and the other on the dash. 

“Everything okay? Didn’t see a car broken down, but it’s real fuckin dark out tonight.”

You blew out a breath, hand flexing around the knife handle as you tried to decide how honest to be. 

“Uh, yeah… my ride was late, and I got tired of waiting. Figured I’d get a head start.”

Sy frowned a little, eyes glancing at the rearview in search of other headlights. His fingers tapped restlessly on the dash.

“What are the chances you’d let me give you a ride?”

“Not great,” you admitted. “I mean, I enjoyed hanging out with you, but as much as we talked, we never got to topics like… your stance on murder and body disposal.”

Sy nodded slowly.

“Understood… You could take a picture of me if you want. And my license plate. Text it to everyone in your contacts.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“You’d be okay with that?”

“Hell, I’ll sit in the truck bed and let you drive yourself if that’s what it takes to get you home safely. I’m not feeling too great about leaving you out here by yourself.”

You hesitated for a moment, looking up and down the road again. Still no other cars.

Fuck it.

“Alright…” 

Sy held perfectly still while you raised your phone and took his picture, sending it to your grandma, useless cousin, sister, brother in-law, and editor for good measure. Your phone’s flash blinded you for a second as you took a picture of the license plate moments later and sent it to the same list.

“You wanna drive?” Sy asked, leaning across the passenger seat to push the door open when you finished. 

“No thanks. Are you armed?”

“No, ma’am.”

You gave a final nod before climbing into the passenger seat. Sy’s brows raised when he clocked the knife in your hand, but he chose not to comment. 

“Where am I driving to?” he asked as you closed the door behind you. 

“My grandma lives down on Azalea. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“Got it.”

Sy pulled his truck back onto the road, and your leg started bouncing almost instantly. You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths. It was clean in here, at least. Surprisingly so. Smelled like leather and pine, without the help of a green paper tree hanging from the rearview mirror.

Sy’s eyes flickered towards you for a second before returning to the windshield.

“Anything I could be doing right now to make you less nervous?”

“Don’t think so,” you sighed. “Sorry, it’s not that I distrust you specifically, I just…”

“I know. I get it.” 

A few minutes passed in relative silence before he tried again.

“You always carry a knife with you?”

You raised an eyebrow, turning away from the window to stare at him.

“Knives. That’s what you wanna have a conversation about right now.”

He scrunched up his face in a way you fought hard not to find endearing.

“Knew as soon as it was outta my mouth…”

“So stupid,” you laughed quietly. 

“I’m just not used to seeing a woman carrying anything bigger than a pocketknife, is all.” 

“I think you might be surprised. Concealed knives may not be conventionally ladylike, but they make us harder to murder. I think it’s a fair trade.” 

“Making yourself harder to murder… Inconsiderate.” 

That surprised a laugh out of you so abrupt and genuine it made you honest-to-god snort. Sy glanced over at you with a rapidly growing grin of his own as you struggled to speak.

“So fucking rude,” you agreed through your laughter, your stomach giving a little flip as the low sound of his laughter joined yours. 

And just like that, as your laughter faded to giggles and Sy’s to a charming half smile, the tension left your muscles for the first time since exiting the bar. It was back to how it was before, back to glances and smiles and a strange level of comfort between strangers.

You felt kind of…. Well, not stupid. But silly maybe. 

“I’m sorry for, um…” You gestured vaguely backwards, and Sy shook his head.

“Don’t be. Trust me, I get it. You gotta do what you can to keep yourself safe. Not always easy to know what that is.” 

You thought about the silver chain you’d glimpsed earlier. Retired military, he’d said. Of course he’d get it.

“It sucks that you get it,” you said.

He shrugged.

“It sucks that you have to do it in the first place.” 

“Yeah…” you said softly, looking down at the knife you were now holding loosely in your lap. It was too dark for you to safely put it away. You didn’t love the idea of accidentally stabbing yourself in the leg. 

When you lifted your head again, you caught Sy in the process of looking away. Before you could call him on it, you noticed a small pond drawing closer through the windshield. 

“Take this next turn,” you said, pointing. “And it’s the third house on the right.”

Sy nodded, following your directions without comment. 

You smiled a little to yourself as you looked out the window again. Your grandmother had lived in the same house in the same little neighborhood - if you could even call it that - for your entire life. Even with the old globe streetlamps so few and far between, you knew exactly what was out there in the dark night. The road sat high, built up to avoid pooling and flooding with the frequent rains, and the houses sat far back from the road and low enough in elevation that the rooftops were barely even with the street level. The road and the properties were heavy with tall, skinny pine trees, taller than any you’d seen anywhere else. As a kid, you’d have sworn they helped hold up the sky.

Your grandmother’s house sat at the edge of the neighborhood, and a dense forest started at the back of her property line, held at bay by a wrought iron fence that circled the whole yard, complete with a gate across the driveway, blocking access to the patio, carport, and yard. It was the only house in the neighborhood with a light on by the front door, the only house still waiting on someone to come home.  

“You can stop here,” you said as Sy approached the top of the driveway.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I don’t want the dogs to go crazy and wake my grandma up.”

“Okay,” he said, putting the truck in park. “I’ll just wait up here until you make it inside, if that’s alright.”

You gave a nod, reaching for the door handle when he spoke again. 

“And I... Sorry for scaring you. Hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

“You did everything you could’ve done to make it easier,” you said with a small shrug and a smile. “And for the record… if there were more men like you around, I probably wouldn’t have to carry this so often.” You tapped the hilt of the knife. 

Sy didn’t seem to have any words to add to that, just gave you a slow nod.

The cab light clicked on automatically when you opened the door, and you took advantage of the light, crossing your ankle over your knee and tugging up your pant leg to replace the knife in its small sheath, adjusting your sock and boot to keep it stable. Sy watched the process without comment, finger tapping idly on the steering wheel and eyes lingering slightly on your ankle even after you’d pulled your pant leg back down. He cleared his throat and looked away as you hopped out of the truck. 

“Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for the ride.”

“Any time,” he said, a small smile crossing his face just long enough for you to believe he actually meant it. 

 You gave one final little nod before closing the door and turning to head down the long driveway. Despite the late hour, everything about it was familiar. The smell of pine and wet concrete. The nighttime symphony of crickets and frogs. The flicker of fireflies far back near the fenceline. You took a deep breath as you approached the gate, drawing the spare set of keys from your bag. You didn’t know how long you were going to stay, how long you even could stay, but if it was “heart” your editor was after, a nice soak in nostalgia certainly couldn’t hurt.

You let yourself in the back door, the same way everyone in your family did. The kitchen light had been left on, and the dogs were already standing there waiting for you, giving soft little woofs of greeting as they crowded your legs. You gave them their required pets and scritches, hushing them as they followed you through the dark house to the front door. You turned the outside light off, watching through the peephole as Sy’s truck drove away moments later. 

As you walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom, you sent the all clear texts, assuring everyone you’d made it home safely. Almost immediately, your phone began to buzz, signaling a call from your editor Bonnie. You took the last dark corner at a jog, closing yourself in the guest room before swiping the screen to answer.

“You’re up late,” you said quietly, feeling blindly for the light switch. “Do you ever actually sleep or do you have caffeine in an IV?”

“I’m always awake when my favorite talent is in mortal danger,” she said matter-of-factly.

You smiled. 

“Favorite talent or least annoying talent?”

The staticky sigh that followed was a very intentional non-answer. 

“You made it safely to Louisiana I assume? And are not currently being murdered by a genetically blessed serial killer?”

“Yeah, I made it fine,” you laughed.

“And the genetically blessed non serial killer is…?”

“Just a local I met. He gave me a ride home when my cousin bailed.”

There was a long silence.

“…And?”

“And…. He didn’t murder me. For which we should both be grateful.”

“Avoiding the details. Interesting.”

“Bonnie.”

“You’re a details kind of woman. The absence is noteworthy.”

“Fine. I met him at the only bar in town, and we talked for about an hour. I left alone. My cousin never showed up. He passed me walking down the side of the road like an idiot and stopped to help. Satisfied?”

“Did you draw him? I bet your readers would love him. Remember that detective you met a few months back? They lost their minds over that handsome face. Half of them wanted you to marry him on the spot.”

“Uh, yeah, I did draw him, but I didn’t keep the picture. It was just for fun. Besides, I wasn’t looking for a story or anything. It was just… bar talk, ya know? Nothing noteworthy.” You tried to keep your tone light, knowing how much Bonnie hated a missed opportunity. 

“Hmm. Well, if you see him again, maybe try and find something interesting there.”

“You asked for more heart,” you reminded her. “Which is not something I’m gonna find talking to a random guy. That’s why I’m at my grandmother’s in the first place, remember?”

“Have it your way,” she sighed. “Anyway, just wanted to check in and make sure you didn’t run into any trouble.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. “I’m okay.”

“I’ll let you get some rest, then. Since unlike me, you still sleep.” 

“Thanks,” you snorted. “I’ll have the draft of the next post ready for you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

The call ended before you could respond, just as it always did, and you were in the process of plugging in your phone when you heard a soft knock.

You peeked out the door to see your grandma standing in the dark hallway, wrapped in her purple housecoat and holding a small flashlight.

“Got up to use the bathroom and heard you talking,” she said in a whisper. “Wanted to say goodnight.” 

You smiled, holding your arms out for a hug. She squeezed you much tighter than it looked like she had any right to, pushing the air out of your lungs.

“Goodnight, Nana. Sorry to disturb you.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “Did you have fun?”

“Kat never came. I think she forgot. I had fun anyway though.”

She pulled back from you with a frown.

“You didn’t walk all that way home did you? Oh, that girl is getting an earful from me in the morning!”

“It’s alright,” you laughed, rubbing her shoulder. “Someone gave me a ride. I sent you a picture. You can tell me all about him in the morning.” 

“Him who?” she asked quickly. “Do you know his family name?”

“No, sorry. He said his name is Sy?”

“Oh,” she said with a deep exhale, her shoulders relaxing. “Well, that’s alright then. He’s a good boy.”

“Yeah?” you asked with a smile, trying not to laugh. 

“Oldest Syverson boy, right? Big beard?” 

“Yes.”

“Alright,” she sighed again. “I’ll invite him to dinner tomorrow to thank him. Goodnight, darlin.”

Your eyes widened as she kissed your cheek and turned to head back to her room.

“Oh, I don’t think you need to do all of that! I said thank you!”

She kept walking as if she hadn’t heard you.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

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Thanks for reading, friends! I hope you all enjoyed it. Would love, love, love to hear from you!

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[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 17

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 2,512

Rating: no one under 17. I'm not responsible for what you read. Kindly police yourself.

Chapter 17

August glanced over his shoulder into the back seat. Three weeks and two surgeries later the hospital finally agreed to let Debbie go home. She still had a long road ahead and it still didn't guarantee a full recovery and her anxiety was through the roof at times and at other times was so depressed she was nearly catatonic and a few normal days scattered in between. She was refusing to eat and in general sulking like a brat. Sy hoped getting her home would help.

Mike had been released after a week and a half. Walt had taken custody of him and Napoleon and Will were staying with them as security until everyone was jailed, including the corrupt cops. He was recovering physically but emotionally he was distant and shutting them out.

Geralt turned onto the long, tree lined drive admiring the land and imagining what it looked like in summer. He loved the country and a working ranch brought a warm feeling to his heart. He drove past the barns where a few work trucks sat along with ranch hands tending horses noting a beautiful chestnut mare before turning his attention back to the drive. Finally they pulled up in front of the large ranch style home and parked. Everyone got out, Sy helping Deb out and lifting her into his arms bridal style while Geralt and August got everyone's bags.

Deb took a deep breath of the fresh air ecstatic to smell anything besides anesthetic and medicinal scents that she'd been trapped in for weeks. 

“Where's Aika?” Deb asked, seeking out their furry friend. 

“She's with my sister and the kids. They are bringing her home tomorrow. “ He gently bounced her in his arms. “Where would ya like to get comfy sugar?” Sy asked as they all walked in. All the Christmas stuff was still up even though it was after Christmas now because they hadn't got to celebrate yet.

“Bath.”

 “Baby,” he started but was cut off. 

“Bath,” firmer.

“You want to wash off again?” He could see wanting to smell like their soap and not hospital bath in a bag shit so he started toward their ensuite bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bed with her bad leg up and started gathering clean clothes for her.

“No Sy, a real bath.”

He turned to her. “You know you can't get your leg wet Deb. Your stitches could come apart or you could get an infection.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.  “I don't care. I've not been in a bath or even a shower in three weeks!” When he arched his brow at her and crossed his arms over his chest she sighed and stood shakily on her good leg. “I'll do it myself!”

“Sit down!” He yelled and stepped forward. She sat down and blinked up at him with wide eyes. He hated yelling at her after all she'd been through but he refused to let her act out like that. “Little girl, you will not hurt yourself or cause any further injury just because you want to get your way.” He gripped her chin in his big hand and forced her to hold eye contact. “I'm gonna try to get you into the bathtub but if it doesn't work I will give you a sponge bath and you won't fight me on it. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” She agrees . “I'm sorry I yelled. I just feel so dirty and I haven't… I know I've been washed but I just

.. I still feel their hands on me and i…I just want to wash it all away.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. 

Fifteen minutes later she was perched on the vanity in nothing but a shirt and bulky leg brace that went from her upper thigh to her ankle. 

Sy was filling the tub with water when something hit him in the back of the head. “Woman,” he turned to face her, suddenly realizing it was her shirt she'd thrown and she was now sitting on the vanity completely naked. “Fuck,” he rasped all blood flow in his body going straight to his dick. 

“I hope so,” She grinned,  crooking her finger and beckoning him to her. When he was close enough she fisted his shirt and pressed their mouths together in a heated kiss. Sy pressed against her, hooking her good leg over his hip and she felt him pulsing against her through his cargo pants. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

“Are you hurting?” He asked as he wiped a tear away with his thumb.

She shook her head , eyes locked with his while she tried to get her emotions under control enough to speak. Swallowing past the huge lump in her throat she pressed her hand to his bulge rubbing it and relishing in his sharp intake of air. “You still want me.”

“What? Of course I want you Deb. You're my life.” He didn't understand how that could even be a question but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Debbie?”

“I just,” She didn't know how to express how she felt. Like she couldn't form the words much less say them. “I…”

“Talk to me darlin’, please.”

“Sy, the water,” She pointed to the nearly overflowing tub.

“Fuck!” he ran over and shut the water off just before it spilled over the edge of the tub. He laughed but drained enough of the water that she could get in without it pouring on the floor then went back to her. Cupping her face in his hands he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “Please talk to me. Don't shut me out Deb. I know you remember the hell we both went through when I tried to hide my thoughts from you. I was lost in my own hell and putting you through it too. We promised to tell each other everything after that, remember?”

She knew exactly what he was talking about. When he was recovering from his POW time he felt like he was too much, not worth the work, or the love she had for him and he tried everything he could to make her leave him but she refused. It nearly broke them both. “i..I'm not the one for you. Not your soul mate anyway. You're settling for me because I'm safe and comfortable.”

Sy felt like someone punched a fist into his chest and was crushing his heart. “You're my world Debbie, my heart, my everything. I'm sorry if I haven't shown you what you mean to me. Please, give me a chance to….”

“Austin, no! It's not that at all. You treat me like a queen and I know that you love me!” She hugged him tight. “This isn't about anything you've done or not done. It's about me. It's about me not being enough. I mean family is everything to you and your mom hates me. I turned your dream ranch into an animal rescue because I needed to feel like I was doing something helpful. I just latched on to you and didn't even notice that you weren't settling down or or ,” he head was pounding.

“That I haven't given you a ring so you couldn't possibly be what makes me happy? Isn't that what Lindy told you that night at the restaurant?” When he watched her he'd dip down because she couldn't look at him he gritted his teeth. “I haven't given you the ring yet because I wanted to be sure I could be the man you deserve,  that I could overcome the PTSD enough to give you a life, sugar. It has everything to do with you but not how you're thinking. I was so afraid of not being good enough I didn't show you how much I can't live without you.”

She shook her head, “No. It's not your..”

“We both said that but clearly there is a problem, sugar because you are doubting us.”

“Doubting me,” She explained quietly.

Realization washed over him and it all became crystal clear. She'd been his rock for so long he'd forgotten how she was when they first met. The chip she had on her shoulder because she felt like she had to prove she was good enough, that she could be the best at everything. He took it as a woman having to prove herself in a man's military at first but the more he was around her he realized that she was afraid to let anyone close, trusted no one to even have her six. She lived like she herself was the only one in the world she could trust or depend on. It led to a lot of being reprimanded, write ups, push ups, pull ups, and finally a talking to that finally made her see thongs from Sy's point of view about having to trust her team or they were all in danger. That was when he really started trying to get to know her in earnest, when he eventually learned about her abuse and abandonment. She'd come so far and he'd been through so much that he didn't realize she needed reassurance he wasn't giving her. He was a fucking moron. 

She gasped when Sy grabbed her face and kissed her and didn't stop until her tense muscles finally relaxed against him and she was breathless. She didn't even register him removing the leg brace until he was lowering her into the hot water, careful to keep her bad leg resting on the side of the tub. She sighed contentedly as she leaned back. Sy chuckled, “Feel good?”

“So good!” 

They both jumped at the knock on the bathroom door. Sy stood and went to see who it was.

“Your sister is here,” Geralt told him. “She needs to talk to you.”

“I'll be right there,” he sighed. He went back to Deb. “You stay put. If you aren't in the same position you are now when I get back I'm going to spank you until you can't sit and when that ass starts to cool down and feel better then I'm going to do it all over again and again until I feel like you learned your lesson and if I get tired I'll let Gearlt and August takeover.”

She fully intended to protest but what came out of her was more of a strangled whimper. He cleared his throat to hide his chuckle.  “I'll be good, I promise.”

“I know you will, sugar.” 

Sy went to speak to his sister and Debbie soaked in her hot bath. She sat still for a bit but really wanted to wash. Chewing her lip she pondered if grabbing the soap would be against the rules. Stretching her arm out she reached the soap without moving her butt at all and took it as a victory. Lathering up her bath puff she started washing herself. Once she felt squeaky clean she grabbed her razor and started shaving … everywhere. After three weeks she resembled a sasquatch except the leg and arm (shoulder) they'd done surgery on. When that was done she settled for a few minutes but quickly got bored, she was all alone after all. “Oooo jets!” Pressing the button the jacuzzi jets bubbled to life and massaged her sore muscles only with her bad leg up at an awkward angle it exposed her to the full force of the jets causing her to jerk and gasp. The pain that shot though her leg was almost instantly replaced with need as she used her finger to further expose her clit to the jet. Using her other hand she slipped two fingers into her slit working them hard and fast chasing the pleasure she didn't realize she needed so badly. Turning her body a little toward the side of the tub the jet hit the perfect spot and even though she couldn't reach the spot inside due to her awkward positioning the jet was doing the trick. Her hips slowly started to flutter as she threw her head back and whimpered through her release moving her hand away from exposing her clit as the pulse of the jet became uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed Sy come back in or even approach until she felt his fingers pushing into her still quivering hole. “Fuck!” She squealed at the stretch and shock of it.

He lifted her ass up out of the water enough to latch his mouth onto her clit and switch between sucking and licking until he'd made her cum two more times, the last time screaming out his name with a series of loud moans.

Sy got her out of the tub and carried her straight to the bed. It was tall enough that he could just bend her over the edge, carefully resting her bad leg out to the side up on the bed leaving her open to his hungry gaze. “You ready for me sugar? Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”

“Please,” he begged, trying to rub her ass back against him. She gasped when his big hand smacked against her ass leaving a burning ache in its wake.

“Be still, your brace is still off. You're in trouble as it is, little girl.” He grinned when she went still, knowing she was thinking about the spanking he told her she'd get if she moved earlier. He took the distraction to push himself in up to the hilt causing them both to moan at the sensation. “So fuckin tight for me, like your made to fit my dick.”

All she could do was moan incoherently as he railed her from behind, each thrust causing her to gasp as he pounded against her cervix. It was painful but the pull out and push in up to that point was bliss. She was losing the battle of control over her body and clamped down on him as tight as she could, wanting to give him some of the pleasure he'd Given her.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled as she squeezed him so tight he thought his brain was coming out of his cock. Reaching under her he started rubbing her clit. “Cum for me. I want to feel you come apart when I fill you full of cum.” A few more circles to her bundle of nerves and she was rutting between his cock and fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” She cried as she exploded around him and he emptied inside of her, the wet squelching sound of their combined releases echoing in the room as he collapsed breathlessly beside her.

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