littlefreya

[littlefreya]

sy and you going to bed but sy needs to play with your tits before falling asleep and even when he does, he NEEDS to have at least one of his hands on your tit. but also sy sucking your tit before falling asleep ughhhhhhh

Warning: 18+ I guess, titty licking and sucking.

The Captain is all about your tits. Every time the big guy comes to bed, he eyes them while flicking a tongue over his lips. Blackness paints his pristine-blue irises, and he can’t help but reach a hand to adjust his semi-hard bulge. 

"Fuck, you look tasty!” he exclaims as he climbs onto the bed, his coarse hands already sneaking beneath your ragged t-shirt while he crawls on top of you like an apex predator. You moan at the warmth of his skin touching yours and your spine coils as he grazes your erect nipples between two, solid fingers.

It’s the time of the month, and your breasts are extremely swollen and tender, even the slightest touch makes you whimper helplessly, and Sy has no intention of going gentle.

“Can I have a lick?” he pouts playfully, his other hand pushing your shirt to expose your breasts. Showing you he is not taking no for an answer.

“Sy, I’m... oh!” 

His tongue slips around your sensitive bud, rolling, twisting and laving it with his hot saliva while his fingers grant attention to your other breast, kneading it with the sheer force of an ardent soldier. 

Syverson is a man carved out of metal and stone, and yet the lips wrapping around your nipple are soft as silk. Sweetly he suckles and kisses you, humming against your engorged flesh. The vibration of his low melody courses through every cell in your body, making you feel higher than the sky. 

You wrap your arms around him protectively, letting him relax in your embrace until finally, he let you go and curls against your side while still gripping one of your breasts. 

“You are home,” he murmurs drowsily before shutting his eyes. 

He does that every night. 

[littlefreya]

LittleFreya’s Drabble Masterlist

I always knew I’d get to the day my masterlist will be too big. I just updated it with some new links and Tumblr killed ALL the links making them unclickable. I can’t add them back without it happening again and again so I decided to put my drabbles on a separated masterlist instead 🥺

This is a drabble masterlist. For my full Henry Cavill and Characters fanfiction masterlist please click here

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

*Most drabbles contain 18+ content, please read the warnings responsibly and proceed on your own account*

Keep reading

[littlefreya]

Hello beautiful! How are yaa!?

I recently saw a tiktok trend where civilians try to do and hold marines push ups, and I mean I know Syverson is Army not marines but how would he react to see his civilian girlfriend do the tiktok (and actually do it right)? 🤍

Hey love, thanks for checking up on me. I really appreciate you coming to my blog. However, I don’t do requests at the moment. I’m more invested in writing my own series. You are always welcome to my Masterlist where I wrote hundred of stories

[littlefreya]

Thank you, gorgeous 🖤🖤🖤

What would our Sy be like the day he comes back from deployment? 🥺

Summary: Syverson returns from a long deployment to reunite with his woman. 

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader (No description of ethnicity or body type) 

Word counts: 1k

Warnings: +18, fluff to smut. Oral sex - female receiving, outdoor vaginal sex, unprotected sex, risky creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

A/N: Not beta’d, was in a slight fluffy mood today. Hope you’ll enjoy it. 

Home Sweet Home 

12 hours, 12 freaking hours - that’s how long it takes to journey back from blazing arid terror. Home, a place that is the arms of the beautiful woman he left behind in exchange for the unforgiving desert. 

A bargain worthy of nought.

Drumming his fingers upon his thigh, the Captain sits quietly at the backseat of the taxi, adjusting his hat here and there and wondering how long your hair must be by now. His is definitely longer since you’ve last seen him, a curly nest of golden-brown, the tips burnt days of labouring in the sun.

His beard has lengthened as well, only by a slight, though amid a wilderness of dark frizzle, a dust of silver hair appeared as if out of nowhere.

‘That’s right, old man, you ain’t gettin’ any younger,’ he muses and steps out of the cab. 

‘You are older now than what your dad ever been...’

It’s not a beautiful day by any means; steel-coloured clouds hunker above the house, casting shadows upon the large man, who stands at the front door holding a large bag and one hand in the pocket of his trousers, toying with a small box between his index and his thumb.

“Darlin’?”

He calls your name once, yet you are nowhere to be seen, so the Captain ventures through the house toward the backyard. Tiny raindrops tapper on the brim of his hat, whilst the wind is frigid on his cheeks - it’s not a beautiful day, yet there you are in a white summer dress and sandals, tending the fully grown peach tree Syverson planted aeons ago. 

Taking a moment, he lingers upon the spectacle of his woman all shrouded in sheathes of white, the fabric so bright it’s almost blinding. This could be forever - you and him. 

If only you’ll say yes. 

The winds blow again, making the skirt of your dress float over your rear and expose a hint of your ample ass. It’s been too long. His fingers now squeeze the tiny box in his pocket in a sense of unease, his lungs squeezing air faster than possible and in his groin, a sudden pang of arousal stirs. Quiet as a man trained in combat, he slips the bag off his shoulder and begins to creep near, hopeful that you’ll remain preoccupied until the moment he is close enough to seize you in his arms.

As very much anticipated, you shriek with surprise, which only makes the large man chortle, making your fright turn into annoyance the moment you realise it’s your Sy. Quickly he turns you and backs you against the bark, his icy glare leaving shards inside your heart.

“Sy!” You utter overwhelmed, your gaze already blurry with tears. News scars crest his tanned face and his beard is sporting new shades of grey but the bitter-sweet look in his eyes hasn't changed a bit. Impassioned, his mouth finds yours in a devouring kiss that is all bristle and chaff, his strong hands squeeze at your hips, leaving bruises for sure before he falls to his knees and makes tatters of your panties. 

“Wait!” 

“Never,” he proclaims, and not holding his breath for one-second dives his face between your thighs. 

Leaning against the tree, you squirm your hips into the rhythm of his skilful tongue, your fingers prying into the peeling bark while you ride Sy’s scruffy face hard in search of your pleasure. His bearded chin tickles the invigorated skin of your cunt while he fucks you with his mouth and what you fight to hold back for a moment longer bursts from in a violent ecstasy.

Not giving you a moment to climb down from delirium, he jumps back to his feet and lifts you in his arms. Your heart sinks at the click of his belt buckle being undone, briefly making you fret the moment of penetration and when his thick cock splits you open you whine in pain, still you wrap yourself around him, thighs squeezing hard, and let him fuck you right there for all the neighbours to see.

“I’m off the pill,” you warn between moans, “oh fuck, oh god, don’t stop.”

Sy’s groans soar through the garden, entwining with a deep rumble of thunder that shatters the sky and cascades you with rain. Feral and hopeless you shove against one another, vigorously colliding until you can’t tell where you begin and where Sy ends. Heat spills from between your thighs, the burning tendrils of the fire draw through you again and you come once more, sensing his cock swelling painfully thick between your clenching walls.

“Fuck, I’m going to come!” he gasps and slamming into you one last time, buries himself deep in your heat and grants you with the explosion of his hot, bountiful surge. Starlings sing in the depths of your belly as if you can already feel his seed planted within you.

Down on the ground, ripe peaches have fallen from the tree as a result of your vigorous gyrate; they are riddled with droplets of rain, peering back at you while Sy lowers you down to the ground and sweetly kisses your forehead before tucking his spent cock back in his trousers. Surrounded by the succulent leaves of the peach tree, you take a deeper breath, aware of the guilt and shame that follows with the stupid risk you both just took. 

“We made a mess…” Your breath still quivers as you reach to cup your womanhood, sensing the sticky fluid at your aching, pulsating lips. 

Sy offers you a faint grin and then without saying another word, falls down to his knees. 

“Then we better make it right.” He plants a sweet kiss at your pelvic bone and then presses his chin to your belly while staring at you with the eyes of a lost child.

“Darlin’...” he begs, reaching his hand to his pocket to find the little box he guarded for 12 months through fire and lead.

“Will you marry me?” 

[littlefreya]

Thank youuuu 🖤🖤

Hi☺️ do you think Sy would paint his lady's toenails if she'd ask nicely? 😏

Pairing: Captain Logan Syverson x Reader

Word count: 602

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some period cramps, mentions of sex, Sy using the term "Sugarbutt", use of peach motifs.

A/N: Not beta'd, take this hobbit to Isengard.

Peachy Pink

The burly Captain was nothing like the men you usually went for; he was coarse and harsh like the desert and carried himself with the elegance of bull. And although Logan F. Syverson was outrageously handsome and hands-down, the best mind-blowing sex you ever had, he was far from being the man you imagined yourself getting involved with.

But within merely a couple of months, you realised there was no quitting a man like Sy. It wasn't how he arrived to pick you up on his heavy Harley or how he ate you out as if you were a five stars dinner. It was the fact that this man, who was the epitome of machismo, didn't mind indulging "girly" activities with you every weekend's afternoon.

"I don't mind watchin' the new Sex and the City movie with ya, sugarbutt," Sy chimed as he landed on the empty spot next to you, making the sofa whine underneath his weight.

You quirked an eyebrow and ogled him oddly while your hands reached to snatch the big bawl of toasty popcorn from his grip.

"As long as I get to spend time with you - I'm a happy man."

"Or maybe you're into seeing Samantha's tits!" You teased playfully and leaned back. Stretching your legs, you placed them on Syverson's thick thighs.

The big man grabbed your feet in an instant. His long fingers weaved between your toes, which quite embarrassingly made you squirm with an unbidden moan to back your predicament.

"Oh," Syverson grinned with triumph, "I made kitten purr. Shall we skip the movie and have our own Sex and the City?"

"Actually, it's bad timing..."

Sy stared at you for a short while before he managed to take the hint. His nimble fingers slid down your foot in a languid motion, and he began pressing his thumb right above your heel.

"A true knight has no fear of stainin' his sword with a bit of blood..." he suggested and bounced his eyebrows naughtily.

You chuckled but then held your lower belly, which instinctively began to cramp as if to remind you that you weren't allowed to have any fun.

"I like that you don't mind," you admitted, "but I am not feeling too hot right now."

His ridged brow immediately softened, offering you a compassionate gaze. Carefully, he placed your foot above his knee and then scanned the coffee table for something and groaned as he failed to find it.

"Hold on, sugarbutt, don't start the movie," he warned and got up from the sofa that almost breathed in relief as he marched away.

"What are you doing?" you asked and watched him disappear into your shower room.

After a short rummaging sound and the low, soft hum of his voice, Sy returned with a tube of nail polish held between his fingers.

Seeing the burly man hold the tiny pastel-coloured bottle with a goofy smirk smeared across his face made you giggle. "What are you doing?" You asked again.

Sy moved back onto the sofa, retrieving your feet to his lap while twisting the nail polish tube open. Then, with the precision of a hawk, he began painting your big toe in a peachy shade of pink.

"Put the movie on then, sweetheart," he commanded softly, dipping the brush inside the bottle to paint your next toenail.

A flutter boomed in your ribcage as you watched his dedication; one by one, the decorated army captain painted each nail, leaning down to blow the polish dry.

You realised then what it was that you found in Sy.

He was everything you ever needed. You just didn’t know it until that very moment. 

[littlefreya]

What would our Sy be like the day he comes back from deployment? 🥺

Summary: Syverson returns from a long deployment to reunite with his woman. 

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader (No description of ethnicity or body type) 

Word counts: 1k

Warnings: +18, fluff to smut. Oral sex - female receiving, outdoor vaginal sex, unprotected sex, risky creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

A/N: Not beta’d, was in a slight fluffy mood today. Hope you’ll enjoy it. 

Home Sweet Home 

12 hours, 12 freaking hours - that’s how long it takes to journey back from blazing arid terror. Home, a place that is the arms of the beautiful woman he left behind in exchange for the unforgiving desert. 

A bargain worthy of nought.

Drumming his fingers upon his thigh, the Captain sits quietly at the backseat of the taxi, adjusting his hat here and there and wondering how long your hair must be by now. His is definitely longer since you’ve last seen him, a curly nest of golden-brown, the tips burnt days of labouring in the sun.

His beard has lengthened as well, only by a slight, though amid a wilderness of dark frizzle, a dust of silver hair appeared as if out of nowhere.

‘That’s right, old man, you ain’t gettin’ any younger,’ he muses and steps out of the cab. 

‘You are older now than what your dad ever been...’

It’s not a beautiful day by any means; steel-coloured clouds hunker above the house, casting shadows upon the large man, who stands at the front door holding a large bag and one hand in the pocket of his trousers, toying with a small box between his index and his thumb.

“Darlin’?”

He calls your name once, yet you are nowhere to be seen, so the Captain ventures through the house toward the backyard. Tiny raindrops tapper on the brim of his hat, whilst the wind is frigid on his cheeks - it’s not a beautiful day, yet there you are in a white summer dress and sandals, tending the fully grown peach tree Syverson planted aeons ago. 

Taking a moment, he lingers upon the spectacle of his woman all shrouded in sheathes of white, the fabric so bright it’s almost blinding. This could be forever - you and him. 

If only you’ll say yes. 

The winds blow again, making the skirt of your dress float over your rear and expose a hint of your ample ass. It’s been too long. His fingers now squeeze the tiny box in his pocket in a sense of unease, his lungs squeezing air faster than possible and in his groin, a sudden pang of arousal stirs. Quiet as a man trained in combat, he slips the bag off his shoulder and begins to creep near, hopeful that you’ll remain preoccupied until the moment he is close enough to seize you in his arms.

As very much anticipated, you shriek with surprise, which only makes the large man chortle, making your fright turn into annoyance the moment you realise it’s your Sy. Quickly he turns you and backs you against the bark, his icy glare leaving shards inside your heart.

“Sy!” You utter overwhelmed, your gaze already blurry with tears. News scars crest his tanned face and his beard is sporting new shades of grey but the bitter-sweet look in his eyes hasn't changed a bit. Impassioned, his mouth finds yours in a devouring kiss that is all bristle and chaff, his strong hands squeeze at your hips, leaving bruises for sure before he falls to his knees and makes tatters of your panties. 

“Wait!” 

“Never,” he proclaims, and not holding his breath for one-second dives his face between your thighs. 

Leaning against the tree, you squirm your hips into the rhythm of his skilful tongue, your fingers prying into the peeling bark while you ride Sy’s scruffy face hard in search of your pleasure. His bearded chin tickles the invigorated skin of your cunt while he fucks you with his mouth and what you fight to hold back for a moment longer bursts from in a violent ecstasy.

Not giving you a moment to climb down from delirium, he jumps back to his feet and lifts you in his arms. Your heart sinks at the click of his belt buckle being undone, briefly making you fret the moment of penetration and when his thick cock splits you open you whine in pain, still you wrap yourself around him, thighs squeezing hard, and let him fuck you right there for all the neighbours to see.

“I’m off the pill,” you warn between moans, “oh fuck, oh god, don’t stop.”

Sy’s groans soar through the garden, entwining with a deep rumble of thunder that shatters the sky and cascades you with rain. Feral and hopeless you shove against one another, vigorously colliding until you can’t tell where you begin and where Sy ends. Heat spills from between your thighs, the burning tendrils of the fire draw through you again and you come once more, sensing his cock swelling painfully thick between your clenching walls.

“Fuck, I’m going to come!” he gasps and slamming into you one last time, buries himself deep in your heat and grants you with the explosion of his hot, bountiful surge. Starlings sing in the depths of your belly as if you can already feel his seed planted within you.

Down on the ground, ripe peaches have fallen from the tree as a result of your vigorous gyrate; they are riddled with droplets of rain, peering back at you while Sy lowers you down to the ground and sweetly kisses your forehead before tucking his spent cock back in his trousers. Surrounded by the succulent leaves of the peach tree, you take a deeper breath, aware of the guilt and shame that follows with the stupid risk you both just took. 

“We made a mess…” Your breath still quivers as you reach to cup your womanhood, sensing the sticky fluid at your aching, pulsating lips. 

Sy offers you a faint grin and then without saying another word, falls down to his knees. 

“Then we better make it right.” He plants a sweet kiss at your pelvic bone and then presses his chin to your belly while staring at you with the eyes of a lost child.

“Darlin’...” he begs, reaching his hand to his pocket to find the little box he guarded for 12 months through fire and lead.

“Will you marry me?” 

[littlefreya]

I’m really curious to see what they are going to do in the sequel…

Cut for possible spoilers

Alex Garland stated he is going to be extremely evil and I’m like here for it

Aaaaand my ultimate hear me out this year is now…..

[littlefreya]

Squad goals

“We are going to beat you to death”

[littlefreya]

28 Years Later spoilers with no context

[littlefreya]

“To speak the truth is a painful thing. To be forced to tell lies is much worse.”

— Oscar Wilde, De Profundis

[littlefreya]

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”

- Oscar Wilde

[littlefreya]

[littlefreya]

[littlefreya]

Kiss It Better

Request / Prompt:.

Could you please please write something about Henry/one of his characters/ treating his girl’s wounds, taking care of his girl. Nothing really bad, maybe minor scrapes when she fell on her hands walking dog or something. Something comforting and naaaaughty. :p

Pairing: Soft!August Walker x Unnamed OFC (3rd person POV)

Warning: Fluffy, sticky, gooey fluff and floof with a tint of naughty suggestion. 

Words: 666 (I never thought Soft!August will be the one, very surprised here!)

A/N: Requested by @the-lunar-solstice​ I am in the mood for fluffy, protective, domestic boyfriend soft!August. Many thanks to my muse @agniavateira for betaing my work!

Title: Kiss It Better

Thick tears blurred her vision, the awkward pressure tugging her nose as she fought the instinctive will to cry. It was a grievous mistake to climb on the counter the way she did. She knew she was bound to fall even before her foot twisted and lost its balance and yet, as always, her stubbornness got the best of her.

Sitting on the ground, she held her knee in an attempt to relieve the searing pain that throbbed below the bone while chewing on her cheeks to hold back the whimpers.

“Princess, are you okay?” 

Keep reading

[littlefreya]

happy 10th anniversary of this episode to those who celebrate! 🥳🎉

[littlefreya]

Hannibal (2013-2015)

3x13 - “The Wrath of the Lamb”

[littlefreya]

And chase the mailmen

Do you think your werewolf boyfriend would bite at the hose water.