#captain syverson x black!reader

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Pt.I: And I don't know what you're doin' tonight…

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: The feeling and flashbacks you get when you saw your high school boyfriend Jake Syverson at your 20 year reunion was quite the unexpected twist in your orderly life.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, body image issues, flashbacks, horny teenagers doing horny things (over 18 tho) heavy petting, fingering, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of breakups, teenage mean girl behavior, the Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, mentions of drug abuse and difficult childhoods, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Explicit description of sex acts. Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is the first installment of II Most Wanted. This is also my first fic in nearly half a year. 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.

-------

June 2024

The visceral reactions started as soon as you entered the parking lot. There it was, Sy’s 1978 white Ford Bronco. Not thinking, you pulled into the space right in front of it, wanting to look inside. You almost lost it when you saw the old charm hanging from the rear view mirror. You couldn’t believe he still had that.

Especially with everything that happened since you put it there.

April 2004

“I claim this ancient truck as my throne!”

You were lit and in love, parked with Sy at the lookout. You were also silly and giggly from smoke and hormones.

“Mmmmm, careful Buttercup.” 

Your boyfriend growled in your ear, making you shiver against him. His attempt at menace was thwarted by the smile you felt against your neck, where he was busy marking you up, a sure sign later for everyone to know who you belonged to.

Sy was known for making bloody the face of those who expressed hate for his beloved Betty Bronco. But you had him whipped.

“It’s a classic, but I’ll let that slide...” 

He wished that you would let him slide, but you were adamant that you weren’t ready to be a parent. He was adamant that that didn’t have to be the outcome, but beneath the red blooded country boy was a gentleman. Sy would never do anything you didn’t want to, not that it stopped him from trying to convince you to admit that you in fact, wanted it as much as he did.

He wasn’t wrong.

You sighed as you placed the Powerpuff Girl necklace you got from Hot Topic on Sy’s rearview as you sat on his lap, giving him a treat. He had you in his grip by the hips and he was subtly moving you against his boner. The attraction between you two was heady, and he almost got what he wanted plenty of times. But you were a romantic and wanted it to be special. You promised him prom night, and Sy couldn’t wait.

“..Driving me crazy, Baby. You can put anything on my rear view as long as you let me get your rear view in the back seat….”

You giggled.

“You’re so corny, Sy.”

You whispered as you turned your head and kissed him over your shoulder. 

“Hmmmm. And you’re so sweet.”

Sy’s sea blue eyes gazed at you as he licked his lips.

He was crazy for you. And you were for him. You felt it. And you just knew you’d be together forever. You grinned as you climbed over him into the back seat. Didn’t hurt to fool around a little, even if you weren’t gonna give him the p that night.

——————

You shook out of the memory as a warm June breeze whipped your short skirt around your thighs. You pulled on the yellow and white designer dress as you contemplated driving back to your hotel and changing. This dress was not a good idea. The triumphant feeling of serving looks when you appraised yourself in the mirror was replaced with anxiety. The dress was too short and you were not the same size you were in high school. Thighs you considered pretty and thick in the mirror just an hour ago seemed massive and you tugged at the deep plunge of the neckline without a bra.

You sighed as you tried to center yourself. You told yourself that you were growing out of negative self talk, especially in the last seven years since your divorce. You were reminded of your promise to never care about the, male gaze again. It just wasn’t worth it.

But you hadn’t been under Jacob Syverson’s gaze in 20 years.

——

Sy posted up at the bar, blue eyes taking in the scene of his former classmates reuniting. He downed his two fingers of Maker’s Mark and asked for another. His heart rate was up as he scanned the room, eyes going back to the door again and again. He was waiting for you. No use in denying it to himself. He wanted to see you again, and more. It was his one objective. An objective he was unsure of attaining.

He was more nervous about being in a hotel ballroom tonight than in Afghanistan. 

Christ, he felt like that 17 year old kid again who first laid eyes on you.

——-

August, 2003

Sy knew what he wanted the moment he saw your face. 

You stopped the world when you first stepped into his British Literature class the first day of senior year. He was seated and talking with his best friend and wide receiver, Jeremy Atkins, when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He let the conversation about which route they should run at the scrimmage that afternoon slip as his eyes lighted on your face. You were anxious, but trying not to let it show. Those eyes held fire, and your lips…

…well your lips besides being everything he dreamt of, he just knew the words that came out of your lips would light someone up as well. He could tell you had spirit by the way you carried yourself.

Your hair was wild and shoulder length, bangs swept aside for vision, and you couldn’t hide that body under your baggy clothes. He lasered in on the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your graphic tee, and power that  the strip of skin between your shirt and your baggy jeans was not lost on him. He was a 17 year old male, after all.

Sy shifted in his seat as he leaned back and grinned to himself when you scanned the room, glaring at anyone who looked askance. He tapped his pencil on the desk to try to get your attention but you just ignored him as the group of seatless students surrounding you dwindled. You were left alone under the scrutiny of soulless cretins, otherwise known as teenagers. 

You gave each one brazen enough to stare at you a side eye, but you stopped when you finally noticed Sy smirking at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, causing him to choke on a chuckle.

Becca Ferguson, Sy’s girlfriend, kicked him in the leg after noticing that not only Sy, but Jeremy were openly staring at you. Shit, he’d forgotten about her. He caught the way her eyes cut over to you, and he knew what came next. He tried to distract her with a flip of the shelf of his blown out curls and a smile, something that had worked many times before. 

But you were a threat to Becca now; she had to do something about you.

You raised your head high as you walked to the seat that Mrs.Beatty pointed out. You passed down the aisle between Sy and Becca, who scrunched up her face as if she smelled something bad. Sy got a whiff of you and you smelled divine, like that Sweet Pea bath gel stuff that he played off sniffing when he went to the mall with Becca. 

His head turned.

Becca glared at him and he turned toward the front of the room, where the teacher had started to pass out the syllabus. 

—--

June 2024

Just like lunch on the first day of school at Central High all those years ago, Carla and Tiffani engulfed you and took you under their wings when you walked into the Marriott, the venue for your reunion. They crowed over you; your hair, your dress, your glow. You forgot any anxiety that you were feeling about how you looked. These were your best friends. Your Bubbles and Blossom.

These women filled the gaping place in your heart torn open from attending 10 different schools from K-12, following your mother’s loves and whims when she didn’t take her meds, or when she self-medicated. They were your soul sisters. And you still kept in touch even though distance separated you.

Carla had that grin on her face while Tiffani expressed her excitement that you were in town.

“Girl! I am so glad that you made it!” 

Tiffani was the gentle one.

“Yeah, I owe Tiff a c-note, because I was sure you’d chicken out.”

Carla laughed at you while you scowled at her.

Tiffani tskd at her bestie, and took your arm while Carla took the other and they ushered you through the doors of the ballroom.

“Well, she has a new job in town and everything, she had to come.”

“Yeah, she had to come to town, but coming tonight is a wholeeee different story.”

You laughed.

“I don’t have the job yet, Tiff. Interview is Monday. And why wouldn’t I come tonight?”

The familiar banter was back, as if 20 years was no matter at all between you and your girls.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you and Carla peered over her shoulder and then smirked at you. She jerked her head back.

“Because of that.”

You looked over your shoulder, smiling right before your stomach dropped.

There was Jake Syverson, all grown up, and staring at you as if all this time hadn’t happened.

—-

Sy saw you enter the ballroom and he almost wanted to run away. Being in country on a dangerous mission was nothing compared to the thought of actually facing you again.

At least he was trained for war. 

Love was another thing entirely.

He took a deep breath as he focused on you. You had always been beautiful, but now, as a grown woman, you were absolutely gorgeous. Your hair was sleek and your face was perfectly beat with makeup that accentuated your natural beauty. You were glowing and that smile was…everything.

As he leaned on the bar and scanned the rest of your body in that dress, he took another drink. Sy indeed felt 18 again, because his body was reacting as if he were a randy teenager. Your body was everything he remembered, and more. More of everything he remembered loving and lusting over 20 years ago. 

“Damn.”

He said it out loud and the bartender replied.

“Agreed, Brother.”

Sy looked at the young man admiring you who couldn’t be over 25, and threw down some money.

“Watch it, kid.”

That little bit of jealousy fueled Sy’s bravado, and he found the courage to step to you. 

—--

You froze like a deer in headlights. 

Over the years, you imagined seeing him again, in all different kinds of scenario, and you thought you could handle it, but the reality of the situation just about knocked you on your ass. Time stopped as you stared at him. 

Sy was more handsome with age, if that was possible. His eyes, his shoulders, his hair! His gorgeous curls were short and a shock of hair was growing from his chin. Your body reacted as your traitorous brain instantly thought of how his beard would feel on certain parts of your body. He looked good in a suit, but he was massive. You had on heels, but Sy seemed bigger than you remembered. He wasn’t the lithe high school quarterback you remembered.

You unconsciously walked closer. 

He was taller. 

But he was also huge: bigger muscles, thicker limbs; his body seemed more powerful all the way around.

Heaven help you.

And the way he was looking at you as if he still owned you, as if all everything that happened hadn’t happened. As if all these years…

Your arms went out to Carla and Tiff beside you for some support, but they were gone, and you stumbled a bit. Sy grabbed your arm quickly as you laughed to play it off.

“Hey Buttercup. You good?”

Goodness, his voice!

How could that damn drawl be deeper and sexier than you remembered? And his touch on your skin felt familiar, yet strange, like a touch from a dream. What was happening to you?

“I need a drink.”

Sy was silent for a bit as you got your drink and had a sip. The way you licked your lips made him want to fall to his knees and beg.

—--

May 2004

“Please, please, please Buttercup. Just let me put the tip in. I promise I won’t move. It wouldn’t really be doing it…”

Sy was whispering in your ear and you were mute, waiting to hear more as your pussy pulsed in your jeans, the grind against his crotch delicious torture.

“I dream about it, Buttercup. I feel you, Baby. So fucking wet for me. I just know that it would feel so, so so good. I’d slip right in.”

It was midnight on your 18th birthday and you were in the Bronco, letting Sy feel you up under your panties for the first time. Your head was thrown back and your eyes rolled at how good it felt. You didn’t know how you would hold out. But it was just three weeks until Prom.

You were sat on his lap and he had one hand down your jeans and one up your shirt.

He pistoned his hips up, causing your back to arch against his chest. You could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.. Sy’s voice lowered to a whisper.

“‘M Gonna taste my fingers, Buttercup. Watch.”

You opened your eyes as Sy pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth. You whined when he closed his eyes and moaned. You throbbed. It had never been like this before.

“You are so delicious… Need more…”

Sy pushed his hand back down into your pants to get you to do that arch again. It sent him feral to see that for some reason.

His fingers found the source and circled it, causing your body to tense up and your fingers to grab his arms.

“Oh my god! Sy!”

You’d come close to this feeling before just grinding with him on the back seat, but this was incomparable.

Your fingernails sunk into his forearms, creating marks for sure. This fueled him even more as he continued his ministrations at your core. He toyed beneath your bra and your mouth opened to seek oxygen as the feeling in your belly continued to tune you to a fever pitch.

“Yes…. Baby….. fuck… You gonna cum on my lap?”

“Hunnnh, hunnh, hunnnh!”

“You’re so fucking hot… I’m about to jizz in my pants… cum for me, Baby…”

Sy grinded against your bottom, and you stiffened while the world’s most wonderful feeling washed over you. You cried out as Sy pinched your nipple and you came, feeling as if the Bronco was caught up in the Wizard of Oz Twister. The world was certainly now in color when you could open your eyes.

Sy held you, watching your beautiful face as you pouted and came back to earth. When you did, your smile was worth all the gold in the world to him. He kissed your temple and slipped his hand out of your pants, sucking your juices off of them again.

You were about to jump him, but Sy interrupted your thought.

“Now that you’ve got a preview of Prom night, let’s get you home, Buttercup. Gotta get your beauty sleep for the festivities later on tonight.”

—-

Sy cleared his throat after staring at you silently for a solid three minutes. The way you licked your lips clean and focused on him was some powerful magic.

“So. How have you been, Sy? How is the family?”

You tried to keep any bitterness out of your voice. The fact that Becca Spurgeon ruined your prom (and your relationship with Sy) by announcing that she was pregnant with Sy’s baby after she was crowned Prom Queen and he Prom King was something you’d tried to get over for 20 years. 

Sy straightened up and looked over your shoulder. You glanced in that direction to see Carla and Tiffani hovering protectively. 

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

——

If you like it, hit Reblog!

Next part here.

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Misunderstood Choices Chapter 15

‘Why did we leave so early, darlin’ mind telling me what gears are turning in your cute brain?’ Sy asked while you were in the subway.

‘We’ll talk about it at home, you sighed impatiently, not wanting to share your woes in public space.

Sy gave you space to arrange your thoughts. He noticed you stiffen up when that stuck-up jackass and his friends introduced themselves. As soon as you reached the apartment, Sy’s cutest pooch Aika jumped on you and Sy, wagging her tail and licking up a storm. She sensed your distress and tried to lay on you, something she did whenever Sy had PTSD-induced panic attacks and nightmares. You laughed, petting and kissing her.

“You turned my dog against me”, Sy smirked.

“She is my daughter, so yeah”, you retorted. It was then you realised Sy was your home, happiness and life. Aika barked, trying to get your attention.

“So, what am I?” Sy teased.

“You’re my human being”, you replied and grabbed Sy’s shirt and kissed him passionately.

After breaking the kiss, Sy asked, “So do you wanna talk about it now, darlin’?”

“Yeah…” you said as you sat down on the couch with your legs crossed for Aika to settle on you.

“The man I married to fulfil my part of the contract….”

“…is that douchebag who passive-aggressively asked about me?” Sy completed the confession for you, and you nodded.

“I actually really don’t know much about him other than the fact that he saved me from high society brats quite a few times, and just like me, he had no choice but to agree to the contract with my grandfather, and Steve had to marry me because of some bad investments his father made. Sometimes I think he detests me… and I just start second-guessing myself whenever I am around him; I feel him analysing me and judging me, making me nervous.”

“Want me to introduce the douche to dumb and dumber?” Sy asked while furiously punching his closed fists in the air. You smiled. Your goofball of a boyfriend was so stinking cute.

“No, I just need you to use dumb and dumber to hold me tight.”

Sy enveloped you in his arms, and you finally relaxed. He kissed the side of your head, making unsaid promises to keep you safe no matter what.

That night Aika slept by your side. You were sandwiched between your human furnace and your four-legged child.

The following day you woke up to a message from your grandfather’s assistant, requesting you to come for a face-to-face meeting with the lawyer. Anxiety coursed through you. This was a shitty situation. Fuck, what if Arthur knew about your marriage situation.

—-

Halfway around the city, Steve received the same message. He was annoyed at the thought of seeing Arthur. Hate was not a strong enough word to describe what he felt about Arthur. But Steve still respected Arthur. According to Arthur's reputation, he was ruthless and conniving but a fair boss and successful businessman. Steve knew next to nothing about Arthur’s personal life other than what he heard from people in his circle. Arthur was known for playing cards close to his chest.

Steve hated that this meeting affected his day’s schedule. Steve informed his executive assistant to push back the appointments scheduled with Beyond Tech and the board members. When he reached Arthur’s mansion, the housekeeper showed him to the office. He was shocked to see you sitting with Arthur and his lawyer.

“Come on in, Steve. I was just chatting with my granddaughter about you. She told me that you had a prior engagement,” Arthur declared while you begged him to go along with your eyes.

“Yes, I had an urgent appointment”, Steve replied.

You finally exhaled.

“So, Arthur, what is this about?” Steve asked arrogantly.

Your grandfather crossed his arms and leaned forward.

“Mind your tone, Rogers. I still own you. Do you take me for a fool?” Arthur roared.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked cowardly. He felt like that small, sickly child getting picked on by every tom, dick and harry in school.

“Well, where shall I start? You both have been lying to me, I know that you don’t even live together, and both lead lives independently. Let’s not forget your entanglements out of your marriage.”

“What did you expect, Arthur?” Steve asked.

“You damn well knew what I wanted, and I wanted a union between Vincent and Rogers family, not a mockery of my name.”

“What do you want? You asked us to get married, and we did. What more can you expect now?” you asked calmly. There was already way too much tension in the room.

“ I am giving you a month to clean up your acts. You both owe me. I don’t want to hear another whisper of gossip about your life; you will live under the same roof. I don’t care if this is not an actual marriage. To me, it is. You both are going to show up together whenever, wherever I ask. I won’t have you sully my name in vain.” Arthur replied firmly, studying the apparent change in your personality.

“Fine, I assume you want us to sign something?” you asked.

“Someone in this marriage has brains”, your grandfather quipped.

He ordered the lawyer to hand out the contracts.

“You have until tomorrow to sign them. If you don’t get that back to me by tomorrow, I pull the rug on the deal I made”, Arthur told both of you.

You grabbed the papers and left the room. Fuck, your life was flashing in front of your eyes. This had been the most frustrating morning of your life. You had a big life decision ahead of you, and the clock was ticking.

[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!!😫💕

[ellethespaceunicorn]

use a photo on your phone camera roll and write a quick scene/hc for it

Hi Nonnie!!! Funny story, the last time I wrote for these two, I was on pain meds for a tonsillectomy. Now, I've got Covid and I'm awake at 4:19am posting this story. I hope you enjoy!!

Title: My Little Strawberry 

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches) 

Fandom: Sand Castle 

Word Count: 556 

Summary: A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach. 

Warnings: mention of creampie, sexy fluff?, mention of oral sex (f receiving) 

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist 

“There she is. Eating her breakfast. Looking mighty fine as usual.” Sy walks up to you and kisses the side of your head. 

“Whatchu want, boy?” You smile up at him through your lashes. 

“I ain’t want nothing at all, Peaches,” Sy holds your chin and gives you a peck on the lips, “But there is one thing I had to talk to Strawberry about.” 

“Strawberry?” Your cute little eyebrows scrunch up in confusion and Sy turns your chair around to face him as he laughs. 

He runs his hand over your swollen six-month-pregnant belly before kneeling to talk to it. “Hey there, Strawberry. How’s Daddy's little girl?” 

“I see you stuck with the fruit theme. And since I’ve been eating strawberries for months now, you named her after my craving?” You could barely hold in your laughter at your husband’s tenderness. 

“I don’t know. It seemed perfect. And I know she’s gon’ be sweet if she’s half you,” Sy planted a kiss on your belly before standing up to his full height. “And since she’s half me, I apologize in advance for her temper.” 

“I knew what I was getting into when I wouldn’t let you pull out, you know that right?” You bite your lip and wink at him. 

“And I knew what you were doing when you turned on Tennessee Whiskey and poured me two fingers of Jack. And you were wearing that damn sundress with the little yellow flowers on it. Pretty as a picture.” Sy remembers the night you made Strawberry fondly. 

“So, what did you have to talk to Strawberry about, baby?” Popping a sliced piece of fruit in your mouth, you chew and wait for Sy to start talking to the baby. 

“Alright, Strawberry, so look. Mama here has been such a sweetheart. She has given you a nice first apartment while continuing to take care of your old man. So, I was thinking of getting her a little something. And I wanted your opinion on it,” Sy leaned in to whisper into your belly so you couldn’t hear, then turned to place his ear close to listen to what the baby says. When he leans back, a smile paints his features. 

“Well? What did she say?” You ask, more than invested in Sy’s little conversation with the baby. 

“She told me to thank you for taking care of her and me. And she told me to make sure I pay attention to you when you’re being ornery because that just means you need a firmer hand.” Sy rubs the sides of your belly. Moving his hands up to your waist and then further up your sides to cup your face. 

“She said all that?” Your eyes close as he rubs a thumb over your cheek, already feeling warmth rise under your skin. 

“She did. She also said I could probably take you upstairs right now and have my way with you. But I’m gon’ let you finish your breakfast first.” Sy sits next to you, picking up your fork and feeding you. 

You take the offered bite and get up from the table, picking up the bowl of sliced strawberries. “C’mon, I can eat these in bed while you eat me in bed.” Winking again, you turn to scurry up the steps with Sy on your heels. 

**Taglist**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @raccoon-eyed-rebel @geralts-yenn @peyton-warren

[sillyrabbit81]

And So Much More...

Summary: After a disappointing date, your best friend's older brother picks you up to take you home.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 11.2k

Warnings: Smut, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, angst and some fluff.

Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @amberangel112 (also a brilliant title fairy) and @henryobsessed . You two always give me the confidence to keep going. Also special mention to @nashibirne , your thoughtful and honest comments really made me think, thank you so much. And finally to @radiantheartbeat for encouraging me to write this.

I used three prompts for inspiration for this story. Thank you for sending them in and I hope you enjoy what I came up with.

Prompt 1, Prompt 2, Prompt 3

Divider made by me.

Masterlist

As if on autopilot, you take a couple of quarters out of your purse and drop them into the slot. You press the numbers with the same level of thought and dial home. It takes a moment to connect and you sniff a little, clear your throat and pray that your best friend and roommate is home. The sound of your coins dropping into the payphone signals a successful connection, followed swiftly by the robotic series of notes that imitate the sound of an old telephone ringing.

You sigh, and fidget, dancing from foot to foot, pulling at your low cut, black satin top and drawing your faux fur lined coat closed.

“Shit,” you utter under your breath. Caroline must have gone out. You’re about to hang up when you hear the click and thunk of the line successfully connecting.

Music and voices burst from the receiver and you jerk your head away from the speaker.

“Hello,” you say cautiously, worried you may have dialled the wrong number in your numb stupor. “Caroline?”

“Hello?” says the voice. You exhale a held breath with relief as you recognise Caroline's voice. At least you had called the right number. “Hello, I can barely hear you.”

Even though it’s uncomfortable, you press the speaker to your ear and cup the receiver around your hand and speak loudly, looking around cautiously at the other people using the bank of telephones.

“Caroline. It’s me!” you say loudly, just shy of shouting.

“Hang on, I’ll grab the other line in my bedroom.” 

It takes Caroline a few moments and you dig into your purse, pulling out another quarter and dropping it into the slot. You hear her pick up the other line and she shouts something out and the call becomes blessedly quiet.

“Hey,” she says a little breathlessly, “you there? What happened to your date?”

“I ended it early. It sucked Caroline,” you sigh, “Do you think you could come and pick me up. I stupidly agreed to let him drive me.”

“Ah, shit I can’t,” she says, “My brother and some of his friends came over and, well, we’ve all been drinkin’.” 

It wasn’t unusual for her to have people over on the weekends, she was a bit of a party animal. In a way you were a perfect pair, you tempered her most crazy instincts and she brought you out of your shell. But right now, going home to her brother Sy and all his meathead friends was not what you had in mind. Especially not Sy.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “Sy’s there?”

“Yeah,” she says, “hang on, he drove here. He hasn’t drunk much I don’t think. Maybe he can pick you up. Let me ask him.”

“No, no, no,” you say quickly, “I’ll call a cab.”

But it’s too late, you can hear Caroline shouting for him and after an extended pause you can hear her relaying your request.

“Hey, Sugar,” Sy’s rich drawl echoes down the line and you bite your lip. 

“Hey, Sy,” you say shyly.

God, you hate that you aren’t completely over the crush you had on him in high school. You’re mostly over it; you don’t obsess over him like you did as a teen, but sometimes those old feelings rear their head again at the most inconvenient times.

“Need a rescue, huh?” he teases.

You smile, he likes to rag on you sometimes and you give it back, usually. You aren’t in the mood to reciprocate, but you appreciate his efforts. You almost tell him no, that you’ll just catch a cab despite the expense, you don’t want to put him out. But you also know Sy, if he didn’t want to help you, he wouldn’t have offered.

“Please?” you ask.

“Anytime, Sugar,” he says, warmly, “Now, where are ya?”

You see Sy’s blue truck about twenty minutes later. He pulls up in front of you, rolls the window down and grins.

“Hey, baby. How much?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you obscenely.

You shake your head and suppress a smile. Less than a second in his presence and he makes you want to laugh. Why can’t any of the guys you date make you feel like he does?

“You can’t afford me,” you scoff. 

He chuckles as he leans across the passenger seat and opens the door for you. You climb in, the truck is so high you have to stand on the side step then bend at the waist so you don't hit your head. Your top is so low, you are worried about flashing your tits at Sy with your body at this angle. You quickly glance at him and he’s already turning his head away. Feeling a little embarrassed, a ripple of heat works its way down your spine and you tug at the edge of your top to keep it from revealing too much. 

Sy taps the wheel in time to the barely audible rock playing through the stereo and waits until you’re settled before driving away from the curb.

“Thanks for picking me up, Sy,” you say.

“Like I said, anytime.” He glances at you and you smile back, but he narrows his eyes. “You ok?”

You shrug. “I guess.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks in that soft tone he has when he’s serious.

You sigh. You consider laying it all out for him, telling him about how frustrated you are. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve unloaded your problems on him. But these problems were different, they were… a little too personal.

“I’m ok,” you lie.

Sy grunts. He knows you well enough to see that you’re not telling him the truth, but he accepts that you don’t want to talk.

You travel for a few minutes in silence and your date replays over in your mind. There was nothing wrong with it really. It had been a good evening, he had been nice, funny, and he was attractive. But when he kissed you during the movie, you had felt nothing. Not a tingle. Not a skipped heart beat. Not a single butterfly. You knew then and there, the relationship was going to go nowhere.

You had tried to be with guys you didn’t feel a spark with before, thinking that over time things would get better, but it never did. As soon as the movie was finished and you made your way back to his car, you told him you weren’t interested. He took it well; he wasn’t a dick about it and still wanted to drive you home. You refused, telling him Caroline was on her way to come and get you.

Sy stops at a set of traffic lights and placing the calloused edge of his finger under your chin, he turns your face to his. You inhale sharply at the contact. It's not fair that one touch from Sy makes you feel more than any guy you have ever dated. His lips tighten into a tight line as he looks you over.

“He didn’t hurt ya did he?” he asks in a voice that's as sharp as a knife’s edge.

“No, Sy,” you reply, placing your hand on his wrist and pushing it aside gently.

“Something happened,” Sy persists, “you look like you’re about to cry.”

“It’s not about him,” you say softly.

Sy looks at you for a long time, his lower lip sucked into his mouth as he studied you. You make yourself meet his gaze so he knows you’re telling the truth. The lights change and he inhales deeply through his nose before he turns his attention back to the road.

When Sy pulls up at your place, you see the number of cars and realise Caroline had invited more than just a few of Sy’s friends over. Your house was pumping with music and there were cars everywhere.

“God damn it, Caroline,” you mutter. 

Normally it wouldn’t bother you that there were people over, but tonight, you just couldn’t face it. Sy takes his seatbelt off and is about to open his door but you put your hand on his arm to stop him.

“Sy, can we… Can we just sit here a moment? I don’t want to go in yet.”

“Okay,” he says slowly, leaning back into his seat. He looks down at his hands, notices something and rubs at the skin of his thumb.

You close your eyes and lean against the headrest. Your mind is buzzing with thoughts, but they seem to fly through your head so quickly you can’t pin them down. Well except for one. 

You’re going to end up alone.

“Fuck,” you mumble as you angrily wipe at a tear that runs down your cheek.

“That’s it! You tell me what that mother fucker did to you and…”

“He didn’t do anything, Sy,” you say tersely. “I ended it, he was good about it… I just…” your chin trembles and you look away as more tears spill from your eyes.

“Oh hell,” Sy mumbles and he unfastens your belt and wraps his arms around you.

You cry harder as he presses you to his chest. You can’t stop. Each sob rips through you; your throat aches, your chest feels like it's going to burst through your ribs while your shoulders and stomach cramp awfully.

Sy lays the palm of his hand flat on your back and rubs big circles over you while he gently rocks you. No wonder you always had a crush on him; no man has ever made you feel as safe as Sy does. He drops his head low so his voice rumbles in your ear, “You’re good, baby, I’ve got you.”

You don’t know how long you cried for. By the time you stop crying, you feel a little silly, like you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. So this guy isn’t the one, what's the big deal really? There’s plenty of others out there. It's not like he dumped you, it was your decision after all. 

Sy doesn’t stop holding you even when you start to sniffle and your eyes run dry. You lift your head from Sy’s shoulder and although he relaxes his embrace, he doesn’t let you go. 

“I’m sorry, Sy.”

“Don’t be,” he reassures you, “Sometimes we’ve just gotta let it all out.”

“Can’t imagine you ever having a cry like that.”

“No, but you should see me trying to murder the punching bag during PT,” he grins.

You don’t think he means to put the thought of him shirtless, dripping with sweat, lip curled in anger and grunting as he takes his frustrations out on the leather bag, but it doesn’t stop the vivid image from being thrust into the forefront of your mind.

“Do you want to go inside yet?” Sy asks softly, “We don’t have to, we could go get a bite to eat if you need more time. I’ll give Carol a call when we get there and tell her to kick everyone out if ya want?”

“No, I don't want to ruin everyone’s good time because I had a shitty night.”

“Just wanna ruin mine, huh?”

“Sy…” you half whine and half laugh.

“How about we go eat then come back?” he suggests.

“I think I should just go to sleep. I’ll feel better in the morning. Just give me another minute.”

Sy is quiet for a moment then says, “I’ll take ya to my place. You ain’t gonna be able to sleep with all that going on. You can stay the night.”

“Sy thats sweet of you, but I don’t want to sleep in these clothes and your friends are all inside and—”

“My friend,” he says firmly, giving you a squeeze, “is right here. And you can borrow some of my clothes.” He finally lets you go and says, “C’mon, put your belt on. I ain’t takin’ no for an answer.”

It feels a little strange being in Sy’s apartment. It had been a while since you had been to his place. Years in fact. He’d been gone for so long, first to boot camp and other training, then later officer training and finally Special Forces selection and several deployments.

He was always in and out of your life and in a way you were glad. Because he wasn’t around to moon over all the time, it had made moving on from your silly crush easier. Plus, being reacquainted with him over the last few years had let your friendship develop beyond him being just your best friend's older brother and a guy to lust over. You got to know him, the real him and you valued his friendship.

Still, there were boundaries despite how close you two had become and being alone with him in his home wasn’t one you had crossed yet.

After placing your bag on a rack by the door, you take your heels off while Sy disappears into what you assume is his bedroom. He comes back a few moments later with an AC/DC t-shirt and some sweatpants. 

“Do you wanna take a shower or anything?” he asks as he hands you his clothes.

You consider it for a minute, but decide you can wait until the morning. “No, I'll just wash my make-up off.” Sy nods and leads you to the bathroom and gives you a towel to dry your face with. 

After you wash you assess the damage the crying had done. Your mascara and eyeliner are waterproof, so they’re mostly in place, but your eyes are puffy and lined with red. You know it's only going to be worse tomorrow, but there really isn’t anything you can do about it now. You dress in Sy’s clothes, and you pull the drawstring of the sweats tight so they don’t fall as you walk and you roll the bottoms up too so you don't trip. 

You take one last look in the mirror and sigh. You feel a little pathetic. You should have just gone home. Now you’re stuck at Sy’s place wearing his freaking clothes for God’s sake. You almost laugh at the irony of it all; a few years ago you would probably have killed to be in this position and now that you had gotten over your crush (mostly), here you are. You’re older now, realistic, you know nothing is ever going to happen between you and Sy. If it was, it would have already happened. 

You wipe under your eyes again and you recognise that you're stalling. You can’t put it off any longer, so, taking a final deep breath, you go back to Sy.

When you come out, you ask him for something to put your clothes in. He goes to his kitchen and returns carrying a small plastic bag. He holds it open for you while you carefully place your jeans and top inside.

“I called Caroline and let her know you’re stayin’ here so she won’t worry,” Sy says, hanging your clothes on the rack next to your bag.

“Thanks,” you say. “Is she ok with me staying here?”

“She’s a little worried about what happened to you, so expect an interrogation in the mornin’,” he says, rolling his eyes.

You half smile. That's not quite what you were asking but you decide not to question his response. “Of course.”

“Are you ready for bed?” he asks. “You can have my bed, I’ll take the couch. Okay?”

You nod, you know you should argue with him, insist on taking the couch, but you know Sy, he won’t change his mind. “Thanks, Sy.”

He dips his head, acknowledging your thanks then just keeps looking at you with a small smile on his face. You return his smile weakly, then turn towards his room.

“Come ‘ere,” he says with a soft growl, and he grabs at your t-shirt, drawing you into his arms. 

You can’t say how many times Sy’s hugged you like this, too many times. And like all the other times you're overwhelmed by him, by his size, his warmth, his strength, his scent and you melt into his embrace. He cups the back of your head, tilting it until you’re looking down and kisses you on the crown.

“Baby?” he murmurs into your ear.

“Yeah?” God, your voice is so hoarse you barely recognise it.

You hear him take a breath like he’s about to speak but then he exhales and swallows before speaking.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks in that low soothing tone he’s used all night. You nod and he lets you go. “You need anythin’, I’ll be here. Gonna stay up and watch some TV for a bit.”

You nod again and go to bed.

Sleep is elusive; you toss and turn. Sy’s bed is comfortable, and you’re mentally exhausted, but you just can’t relax. Not only are you caught up in replaying the disappointing kiss in the movie theatre, you can’t stop thinking about Sy. Surrounded by his covers, engulfed in his scent, you can’t help but remember the warmth of his body and the pleasant weight of his arms as he holds you.

It annoys you, frustrates you, and makes your heart ache. You remind yourself that you’re escaping into old fantasies, equating the feelings of your unrequited crush to your current sense of loneliness. You know you’re only thinking about Sy like this because of what happened on your date. Your romantic feelings toward Sy aren’t real, they aren’t based in anything tangible and are not reciprocated. You're his little sister’s best friend, of course he’d be nice to you tonight like he always was. It didn’t mean anything.

Eventually you get up. You’re just going to get a drink of water before trying to go to sleep again. You won’t disturb Sy, you’ll just quietly go through the family room to the kitchen and you’ll have your drink before going back to bed. That's it.

The TV is on with the volume turned down low. Sy is shirtless on the couch, he’s too big for it and his feet hang over the armrest, barely covered by the blanket he has over his legs. He has one arm raised and bent behind his head and the other is below the cover. Your eyes widen and heat floods your cheeks as you think of what else is under there.

Shit. 

You turn back to Sy’s room; it’s fine, you don't really need a drink. But before you can take a step, you hear his voice, “Sugar?”

Shit. 

You turn back and see moving into a seated position, pulling the blankets up with him.

“Can't sleep?” he asks. You shake your head. He gives you a sympathetic smile, “Me neither.”

You nod and look around the room, trying not to stare too long at Sy’s chest. He’s always had an amazing body, and he isn’t shy about it, frequently spending summer barbecues shirtless. But it’s different being alone in his apartment when he’s half naked and feels a little inappropriate. 

You peer back at him and he’s just staring at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something. You point to the TV. 

“What are you watching?”

“Armageddon. Have you seen it?”

“Yeah. Once at the movies when it came out. It wasn’t bad.”

“Wanna watch it with me?” Sy asks.

Shit.

“Sure,” you say hesitantly. Your mouth is suddenly a little dry. Maybe you should get that drink first.

Sy swings his legs off the couch and pats the cushion next to him with a small jerk of his head.

You swallow hard as you sit on the opposite end of the couch, curling your legs up under you and leaning your head on the armrest. He rearranges the blanket so you both have some and settles into his corner, putting his arm on the back of the couch.

For a while you watch the movie in silence, sometimes one or both of you chuckle at a joke, but mostly you are quiet. The movie is supposed to just be a popcorn flick, it's not supposed to be that deep, nevertheless, you find yourself invested in the love story. And while it's cringe inducing, the scene with Ben Affleck’s character playing with the animal crackers on Liv Tyler's belly hits you hard. You’ve never experienced that kind of intimacy with a guy and you’re starting to think you never will.

“Sy?” 

He hums.

“Do you ever…” you pause and shake your head, “Nevermind.”

“No, go on, Sugar.” Sy mutes the tv and turns his body to face you.

You look down at the blanket and play with the edge. “Do you ever worry you'll be alone forever?” 

He raises an eyebrow. “Askin’ the big questions tonight I see.”

You shrug. “I just… sometimes I think I'm never gonna find someone. I’m never gonna fall in love.”

His brows draw together, “You’ve never been in love?”

“That stuff you hear about in movies and books, the sparks, the skipped heartbeats, the butterflies, the constant yearning, the need to be with them all the time. I've never felt that really.”

“Never?”

“Other than silly teenage crushes,” you bite your lip, you shouldn’t have mentioned that. You quickly deflect. “You have, haven't you? With Anna?”

“Yeah,“ he says with a half smile, “Yeah I loved her.”

“Do you miss her?”

Sy inhales deeply and studies his hands a moment, taking your question seriously. He looks at you before he speaks. “It’s complicated. I miss the feelings, I miss knowin’ I had someone, someone to be with, but I dont miss her.”

“You miss being in a relationship?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “and the sex, I miss the sex.”

You giggle and look away. “I’m sure you have no problem getting sex, Sy.”

He smirks and shrugs, conceding your point. “Yeah, I could get sex, but… It’s different when you’re in love. Feels different. I miss that sex.”

“At least you’ve had it once. I never have.”

“Wait, you’ve never had sex?”

“I’ve had sex, just not that amazing, loving, the world disappears and its just the two of you, sex. It’s never been good,” you pause and look at Sy and you before you can stop yourself you add, “I’ve never even had an orgasm.”

“What? Ever?”

“I have… alone…” you squirm a little in the seat, berating yourself for even bringing it up.

“Assholes,” Sy says.

“It's not really their fault,” you explain and Sy raises his eyebrows, “I mean they tried, it's just that I can’t seem to… get over the line.”

“You mean you get in your head? You overthink it?”

“Maybe,” you say, “I start wondering if I’m too loud. Am I taking too long? If I taste—” you stop talking, suddenly realising what you’re saying and who you’re saying it to. Your eyes meet Sy’s and you can’t breathe; he's looking at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at you before. He’s biting his lip, his eyes are dark and hooded. You turn away. “Nevermind.”

Sy clears his throat and an awkward silence descends between you as you both stare at the television.

“So, that crush you had,” Sy glances at you, “Anyone I know?”

“It was in high school, Sy. And I’m over it.” Completely over it.

“I ain’t over my high school crush,” he says with a smirk.

“What? Really?” you ask surprised. “You… you dated all the time, and all the popular girls… Why didn’t you ask her out?”

“It was complicated,” he says, “she was sorta off limits.”

“Who was she?”

“She was a sophomore when I was a senior.”

“Wait. She was in my year?” you ask, surprised again by Sy’s admission. “Was she one of Caroline’s friends? Was that why she was off limits?” 

He nods. “She never actually said I couldn’t date any of her friends, but… Anyway, I never said anything.” 

You nibble on your lip, thinking back to who it could have been. “Was it Leanne Newman?”

Sy scrunches his face up, “No.” You open your mouth to guess again but Sy cuts you off. “I ain’t playing a guessin’ game with you.”

“You can’t tell me you had a crush on one of our friends and not tell me who it is.”

“Sure you wanna know?” Sy asks, his face is impassive and you’re unable to get a read on him.

“Well yeah, what does it matter now?” you grin and say teasingly, “Are you worried I’ll tell her? You getting shy on me, Syverson?”

He doesn’t smile back or take the bait. Instead he stares at you while he pulls his lower lip into his mouth. Then he shakes his head. “Now's not the time.” He puts his arm around your shoulders and tries to get you to lay your head on his chest. “Ask me another time.”

You push away from him and sit up, “Why are you being all weird about this? You were the one who brought it up.”

His jaw clenches. “Well who was yours?” he asks, his annoyance plain by his curt tone.

You shift uncomfortably. “It’s not important,” you throw the blankets back and stand, “I think I’ll be able to sleep now.” 

That’s a lie, but this conversation is heading in a strange direction and you’ve had enough for one night.

Sy stands too, the covers falling from his legs and you realise all he has on are a pair of boxer briefs. Your face heats, mortified that you had sat there all that time and all he had been wearing was underwear.

“So you’re not going to tell me?” Sy says, completely unperturbed by the fact he was nearly naked.

“You’re not going to tell me yours,” you fold your arms across your chest and try to focus on his face. He looks away as he runs his tongue over his teeth and you recognise it as a sign of frustration. You throw your hands up in the air, completely exasperated, “This is ridiculous, Sy. I can’t believe we’re arguing about this.”

“It’s you,” he says.

“Me?” you say, your voice rising, becoming shrill, “I’m not doing anything!”

“No, Sugar,” he says softly, meeting your eyes, “The sophomore. It was you.”

You take a step back and stiffen. You feel an icy chill weave its way up your spine. 

“That’s not funny, Sy,” you say, your voice quivering in disbelief. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?” he says soberly as he takes a step closer to you. 

You have to admit, he does look serious. You shake your head as you drop your gaze to the floor, unable to look at him. You can’t believe him, no way; he’s never even hinted his interest in you.

“Sugar,” he says gruffly, “I told you mine, are you gonna tell me yours?” 

His hand cups your cheek and the contact makes your skin tingle all over as if you can feel his touch everywhere. You gasp as he runs his thumb over your cheek, then over your lips and jaw before tracing your throat to the hollow at the base of your neck.

“Or am I gonna have to guess?” he asks, with a cocky smirk.

“How do you know?” you ask, your voice weak with breathlessness, “How do you know it was you?”

“I had a hunch.” His pink tongue slips quickly between his lips, making his lips shine with the reflection of the tv screen. “A hope that maybe you feel the same way I do. I wasn’t sure.”

“But I’m over you,” you say more to yourself than to him.

“That's a damn shame,” Sy says in a tone so low you barely make out the words, “Cause I ain’t ever gonna get over you.”

He licks his lips again and his eyes trace the path of his thumb as he caresses your jaw. Then he meets your eyes and he takes a half step closer, your bodies almost touching. His lips part, his head dips and his eyelids start to close.

Oh God. He’s going to kiss you.

This can’t be real, there is no way after all this time that tonight he’s going to confess that he’s had feelings for you. Since high school no less. 

Why now?

What changed?

You gasp and firmly hold his shoulders, stopping his advance. You know why he’s saying it and it makes your stomach clench.

“You’re just saying this because of what I said,” you accuse and Sy’s eyes fly open and his head snaps to attention. “You feel sorry for me don’t you?”

“Feel sorry for you?”

Frustrated you push away from him, tears threatening again as you head to his kitchen. You thought Sy was better than this, a man that would never use your feelings against you like this. Did he really think you’d fall for it?

“I don’t need a pity fuck, Sy.”

“A pity fuck?” Sy says, incredulously as he follows you.

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”

You lift the receiver on his wall mounted phone and start dialling.

“Sugar, what are you doin’?” Sy asks, sounding confused. “Who you callin’?”

“A cab,” you say roughly, “I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving?” he says, sounding offended.

“Stop repeating everything I say!”

“Sugar, I just laid my heart out and you…”

Your head jerks up and you see bewilderment in his pinched brow. He keeps advancing on you, hesitantly, as if at any moment he expected you to tell him to stop. And you want to. You open your mouth to tell him so, but the look in his eyes gives you pause.

He leans into you, trapping your body against the counter. His hands cover your cheeks. “Baby, I mean it, I ain’t lyin’ to you. I feel somethin’ every time I touch ya. Every time you smile at me I feel like I’m about to break out in a sweat. When you cry it makes my chest ache and I...” His arm coils around your back and he rests his weight against you, “If you don’t want me, fine, okay; I’ll let ya go and you can call your cab. But I don’t want you to leave thinkin’ I lied to you.”

“Why haven't you told me this before?”

“Baby, I wanted to. So many times,” he chuckles bitterly and lowers his head. “I thought I was over you, we were kids, and I was gone then you were gone. But every time I came back and saw you,” his voice lowers to nearly a whisper, “I knew I was never gonna stop wantin’ to be with you.”

God, this is too much. This is crazy, just crazy. And you just can’t deal with it.

“I want to go home, Sy,” you manage to rasp as tears well in your eyes again.

Sy doesn’t move for a moment, and you think maybe he won’t let you leave. Then he sniffs and takes a step back, without looking at you. “Okay,” he says, “Yeah, okay.”

A piercing pain strikes your chest at the dejected sound of his voice. “I’m sorry, Sy. I…”

He holds a hand out to you, gesturing you to stop. “It’s ok, you don’t gotta explain,” He rubs his hand over his head and down his face, “I’m uh… I’ll let ya make your call,” he says as he turns away and leaves the kitchen.

You call the cab company with shaking fingers. You think you’re going to have to call out to Sy to get his address, but you discover a few bills stuck to his fridge. After you hang up, you find some tissues, bundle them up and stick them in the pocket of your pants, certain you’re going to need them for the ride home.

Shit.

You are wearing Sy’s clothes. You go to the rack by the door and grab your bag, intending to change before you leave.

“You don’t have to change,” Sy says, from behind you. You turn to him and notice that he’s put on a t-shirt, sweats and some shoes. “Keep ‘em. Or give ‘em back another time.”

God, he sounds so broken, so hurt, and awfully resigned. 

“Sy, I…” you start to cry again; you can’t stop the tears.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sy draws you into his arms, “Easy now, it’s ok.”

You shake your head into his chest. It's not okay. It won't ever be okay between you again. You know that. You know your relationship has changed forever. You feel like shit. Here you are rejecting him, telling him you’re not interested and he’s the one holding you while you cry. No matter how good it feels to be in his embrace, you can’t take comfort from him anymore. It's not fair to him.

Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you slide out of Sy’s arms. You slip your shoes on, feeling utterly ridiculous in your heels and put your coat on. Sy reaches for his coat too and when you’re ready to leave, he opens the door for you and walks you out.

When he opens his building's front door, the icy chill of the night air slices through Sy’s t-shirt and your thin coat, taking your breath away. You start to shiver immediately.

“Sy, it’s freezing. You don’t have to wait with me.”

He just shakes his head and walks you to the street. “How long did they say they’d be?”

“Ten minutes,” you tell him.

He nods and sticks his hands in his pockets and you put yours under your arms, stepping from foot to foot trying to keep warm.

“Think it’ll rain later?” Sy asks looking up at the cloudy night sky.

“Sy, you don’t have to do this,” you say, “you don’t have to pretend that everythings okay.”

“I’m just talkin’. Ain’t we able to talk now that I’ve made a complete fool of myself?” he grins, making light of the situation.

“You didn’t…” Sy glances at you out of the corner of his eyes, and you shake your head. “Not a complete fool.”

“Just a li’l bit then,” he surmises.

You shrug. He really hadn’t misinterpreted anything. You look down at your feet, curling your toes in your heels, trying to keep them warm. You don’t want to think about it, you don’t want to think about him, you just want to go home, have a cry in your bed and try to sort out your mixed up feelings. 

“Cab’s here,” he says.

You look up and see that he’s right. The driver pulls up, winds his window down and says your name, confirming the car is for you. You nod and for a moment you’re stuck, unable to move.

Sy places a gentle hand on your lower back and you can feel his warm breath as he kisses your temple.

“Go on, Sugar,” he murmurs.

You close your eyes. Your chest tightens, and a lump forms in your throat. You reach a hand out to him but he’s already moved away, walking back to his apartment. You feel sick, you can’t work out what’s wrong with you. Why does it feel like your heart is breaking?

“Miss?” the cab driver calls to you, “You coming?”

You’re trembling and not just from the cold. You take a step back from the cab and shake your head.

“I made a mistake,” you tell the driver. He looks at you with raised eyebrows but you don't have time to explain.

Pivoting, you run back towards the building. Sy has already gone back inside and you see him at the stairs. You knock frantically on the door, he stiffens and turns around, his eyes widening momentarily in surprise. He comes back down the stairs in a little jog, and opens the door with furrowed brows.

“Did you forget somethin’?” Sy asks.

You shake your head, unable to get the words out.

Sy looks over your head, “Hey, your cabs leaving, what—”

Standing on your toes you put your arms around his neck and pull his mouth down to yours. 

Sparks. Skipped heart beats. Butterflies. Yearning. Need. 

You feel it all as Sy groans and wraps his arms around you. His lips are as soft rose petals as they move over yours, stroking lightly at first before building pressure. You feel something hard against your back and you barely register that he's brought you inside and pinned you against the wall.

“Sy,” you whisper, drawing away to take a ragged breath. 

“Baby,” Sy says, his hands moving over your body as if confirming that you’re really there, “you came back.” He states the obvious and if you weren't closing in on the edge of a pure mental meltdown yourself, you would have laughed. 

His lips are on yours again, his beard feels so soft as his whiskers slide over your lips. He lifts your shirt, his hands are cool and your skin feels like it's burning as they brush your trembling belly. He grasps your waist, his fingers dig into your flesh as his kiss becomes firmer.

“Want this… Want you… So long… Always…” He murmurs between kisses.

His lips move down your neck, his kiss is rough, wet and scorching. His hands move higher, squeezing at your ribs as if he wants to crush you. You close your eyes, your body arching, your hips slotting against his and you moan.

His thumbs caress the curve of your bare breasts beneath his shirt. Your hands seem to move by their own volition as they glide down his neck and under his jacket. You slide it off his shoulders feeling the tension held in the bulging mass of muscles beneath his shirt.

His hands leave your body while he throws his coat off like it's on fire and he drops it uncaringly to the floor. Then he leans hard into you, hips circling you and you can feel him, growing hard, so fucking hard, against your belly. His hands move under your shirt again, but he withdraws them quickly.

“Upstairs,” he breathes and he bends down to grab his coat.

Wordlessly, he takes your hand and walks you towards the stairs. You get the feeling if you weren’t trotting after him, he’d drag you anyway.

He turns to look at you as you reach the first landing, his eyes are blue fire as he bites his lip. You don’t know what he sees when he looks at you, but you know you must be reflecting the same vehement expression. Now that you’ve kissed, there’s no way to hide your feelings. He takes the stairs blind, like he’s bewitched by your face and won’t even look where he’s going. You aren’t much better, seemingly trapped by the same force that keeps his eyes on you.

As he opens the door to his apartment, his heavy silence and heady gaze finally gets the better of you. Closing your eyes, you turn away from him slowly, taking your bags off and placing them by the door.

Sy hums as he moves behind helping you take your coat off. You step out of your heels, using the movements to put some distance between the two of you.

“I think we need to talk about this before it goes any further, Sy,” you say looking at his cream coloured carpet.

His feet enter your field of vision and he lifts your chin. 

“Shoot,” he says in his deep gravelly voice.

You swallow hard. God, he radiates sexual energy, raw, primal, and seductive. You haven’t felt that from him before, never to this extent at least. His hand moves down your throat and slides to the side of your neck. Your body hums, vibrating from somewhere deep inside.

“I’m listening,” he prompts.

He seems so composed now, so in control, earlier he had been as wild as you. Now you feel like you’re about to spontaneously combust and he’s as cool as ice.

“I uh… What are we going to do?” you ask flustered and uncomposed, your eyes sliding shut as he tugs gently on your ear with his thumb and forefinger.

“Now or tomorrow?” His breath is hot on your neck as he dips his head and nuzzles into you. His beard pleasantly brushes over your skin and you feel it in your spine as you shiver with pleasure.

“Now? Both?” His silky lips skim over you, the potent cocktail of sensations is doing you in and you can’t think. “Sy stop, please.”

Leaving you with one last kiss he breathes in deeply before taking a step back. He crosses his arms over his chest and your eyes slide over his body, lingering on the bulge between his legs. You drag your focus to his face and you see that you were wrong, he’s not composed, he’s as aroused as you are.

“Oh fuck it,” you say, and grab his shirt in your fists.

A fleeting look of shock crosses Sy’s features before his blue eyes flash with lust and he grins like a cat who got the cream. He captures your face in his hands and meets your lips with his.

His hands roam everywhere, kneading at your hips, your breasts, and your ass. You can’t keep your hands off him either, running up his thickly muscled arms, to his neck and down his strong back. Your fingers dive into the scruff of his beard finding it surprisingly soft and your nails scratch gently at his cheeks and jaw.

“Couch or bed?” he growls with a raised eyebrow. You know what he's asking, he wants to know how far you want to take this.

“Bed,” you say determinedly. You want it, you want him, why are you questioning it?

“Oh fuck yeah.”

Without letting you out of his arms he walks you to his bed, awkwardly trying to toe off his shoes as he keeps trying to kiss you.

“You can let me go, Sy,” you tease as he grunts and he finally kicks his shoes away.

“Can’t do that, baby,” he says with a smirk, “I ain’t ever lettin’ you go.” He grabs your ass and lifts you onto his hips and you yelp. “I’m gonna bundle you up and take you with me everywhere. Might get some side eye at work, but it’ll be worth it.”

“You’re so cheesy, Sy,” you giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you laugh, Sugar,” he says without the slightest hint of amusement and your laughter dies.

An intensity settles between you as Sy takes the last few steps into his bedroom. He leaves the light off and turns on a small lamp that bathes the room in a soft warm glow. Then he lowers you to your feet.

You turn to look at the bed, the covers are still pulled back as you left it when you got up to get a drink. Sy walks around the other side and climbs in and you slip between the covers and meet him in the middle of the bed. There is a weighty anticipation and part of you wonders if you’re moving too fast. Maybe you should have picked the couch.

If you’re honest with yourself, your trepidation comes from more than that. Now that the moment has arrived, now that you’re in bed with the man you have wanted to be with for as long as you can remember, you fear disappointment.

You know you shouldn’t get caught up in your head. Kissing Sy was already a better experience than you’ve ever had with any man before. But somehow that makes the ball of anxiety in your gut grow even heavier and more onerous.

And worse than all of that is the question: what if you had it wrong all the time? What if you’re the one who is a disappointment? What if sex was always bad for you because you aren’t any good at it?

“You okay?” Sy asks as he strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers.

You shrug. He rubs his thumb between your pinched brows as if to soothe away your worries. He looks away for a moment and stares off into the distance, then he brings his eyes back to you.

“Are you thinkin’ ‘bout some of the things you told me about earlier?”

You drop your head and quietly curse.

“Don’t think about that, baby. Just feel me,” he says.

“I can’t help it,” you whisper.

“Let me help you then,” Sy says with a grin and throws back the covers. 

“Sy…” you whimper softly.

“Hush,” he says, brushing mouth against yours.

His velvety soft tongue flicks teasingly at your lips before his hands travel down your sides. He lifts your shirt, and moves down your body until he is kissing your belly.

“Jane’s Addiction,” Sy murmurs as he nuzzles into your tummy.

“What?” you ask, completely thrown by his out of left field comment.

“Jane’s Addiction was playin’ on the radio the first time I met you.”

“You remember the first time you met me?”

He nods solemnly, “Few days into senior year. It was rainin’ and Carol begged me to drive her and her new friend home.”

“Oh I remember that!” you say. You laugh and run your hand over his buzz cut, “Your hair was so long and curly.”

“Yeah, it was,” he breathes and you gasp as his hands reach your breasts.

You bite your lip as he lifts your shirt higher and his eyes grow wide as your breasts are revealed. He keeps raising the hem and you lift your arms. With a quick tug you’re topless and before you even have a chance to feel self conscious, he rises to his knees, reaches behind his head and he is swiftly shirtless too.

He lays over you, his weight is heavy but welcomed and warm. His lips are at your neck, his hand cupping your breast, caressing, rubbing, squeezing.

“You sat in the backseat, and I kept looking in the rear view mirror at you. I couldn’t stop.” 

His kiss moves to your nipple, his tongue slips between his teeth, circling before drawing you into his mouth. The gentle suckle makes you moan and you ache for more as the throbbing between your legs borders on unbearable. His azure gaze is intense and hungry as he lifts his head.

“You wore a green strapless dress to my 21st birthday and kept stealin’ my tequila shots,” he continues, “You wore a pink cardigan with cherries on it when you came to my homecoming after my first deployment,” his voice gets low as he adds, “You kissed me that night, just my cheek, but I’ll never forget it, or that your hair smelled like strawberries.”

“Sy…”

He rises to his knees again, licking his lips and tucking the bottom one into his mouth. His broad chest is puffing hard as he looks at you and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your borrowed sweats. 

“You cut your hair to look like some actress when you came to visit me with Carol after I made it through selection,” he glances away long enough to untie the draw string.

You cover your face in your hands, reliving the painful six months it took for the cut to grow out. “Oh God, that haircut was awful.”

“It was,” Sy chuckles, then he’s quiet as you feel the sweats slide down your thighs. You peek through your fingers. “But you were still so fucking beautiful,” he says and his body covers yours. He removes your hands from your face and cradles your head in his hand, “You are beautiful.”

You shake your head, but you smile, warming with his compliments. “You remember all of that?”

“That and so much more,” he says as he dips his head and kisses you.

You kiss him back with a slightly parted mouth and you slip your tongue past his lips. He groans wrapping an arm around your waist while yours encircle his neck. He breathes hard into your mouth as he kisses you, and you have no doubt you’re breathing just as hard.

“Gonna go slow, okay?” Sy murmurs. His eyes sweep down over your nearly naked form and he chuckles, “Gonna try anyway.”

“You don’t have to,” you say.

“I want to,” he insists, “I wanna take care of you, make it good for you.”

He kisses you as he places his hand on the inside of your thigh and exertes slight pressure. You let yourself open for him, so eager for his touch you can’t stop trembling. His kiss grows deeper, harder as his fingertips dance up your thigh.

His hand cups your clothed centre and he groans as you gasp and instinctively close your legs. He holds your thigh and guides it open again with a gentle yet firm touch. The heel of his palm presses against your clit and your body surges, heat radiating as he moves in tight circles.

Your heart starts to pound, your breath shudders and your thighs won’t stop shaking. You recognise the feeling and it's good, better than good; every stroke of his hand, every brush of his lips and flick of his tongue at your mouth takes you higher until your entire body throbs.

Sy lifts his head, his mouth hovers just above yours. He stares into your eyes while his fingers delicately trace the edge of your underwear. 

“Gonna take ‘em off,” he says, pausing until you nod, lifting your hips and he drags your panties down your thighs.

With a gentle nudge he guides your thighs open again and his hand strokes your body, from your hip to your breasts, he leaves a trail of goosebumps on your skin. He bites his lip as he looks at you then he lowers his head until it rests next to yours on the pillow.

“I wanna make you cum,” he says as he caresses your shoulder then traces an invisible line down your arm.

He laces his fingers between yours and brings your joined hands to your core. Your hips roll, spine arches as he dips your fingers into your slick and sticky wetness.

“Fuck,” Sy groans and presses his forehead into yours, “Show me what you like, show me what feels good.”

You shake your head, “I don’t think…”

“There ya go thinkin’ when ya should be feelin’,” Sy says, his voice a little teasing.

Guiding your joined hands he slides your fingers over your folds and spreads your wetness all over you.

“Close your eyes for me,” he murmurs, “Just feel what I do, listen to what I say. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You don’t respond, you can’t, so you close your eyes and try to focus on his touch.

“Put my hand where you want it,” he urges hoarsely.

You nod and take hold of his wrist and using your other hand you cover his. You guide him over your slit letting his whole hand glide over you, the friction of his skin against your folds makes you moan.

“Your pussy feels so good, baby,” he breathes into your ear, “love how soft ya are… delicate…”

You whimper as your nails dig into his wrist and your body heaves. A warm rush floods your core, you’ve never been so aroused by a man in your life. “Oh God, Sy.”

“So wet and puffy and warm, bet ya taste real good too.”

Molten hot liquid seems to flow through your veins and heat blooms deep within your gut. You raise his fingers to your clit, placing them right where you need them and you guide his movements for a few seconds. His hand moves passively over you until he seems to catch your rhythm and you feel the moment he takes over. You let him go and try to keep breathing as torrid jolts of intense pleasure wreak havoc on your nerves.

“I wanted this for a long time. Wanted you here, in my bed, wanted to touch you like this,” he says as his beard grazes the side of your neck and his lips capture your earlobe. “And that you wanted it too, that you wanted to be here, with me.”

His confession makes you open your eyes and turn your head towards him. He’s looking down at his hand between your legs, his brows are low and his eyes are narrow. He bites his lip and you watch stunned as his teeth drag over his soft flesh.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath, so softly that if you hadn’t seen his mouth moving you don’t think you would have been able to make out what he said. 

His eyes sweep up your body and he catches you looking at him. Through your moans, you smile shyly at him and he makes a low growling noise in his throat.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he rumbles, and he leans over you. 

Your lips meet in a sordid clash, it's wet, sloppy and uncontrolled. You grab at his arm clawing and clutching, your legs won’t stop shaking, and you can’t stop your moans turning into cries.

You squeeze your eyes shut and fall back into the pillow, concentrating on the tightness between your legs. Your whole body feels taut, pulled tight like an elastic, ready to snap at any moment. This is where it stops for you, where you get caught, where you take too long, where he gets bored, where he…

“Sy, I don’t think I can, I…” you say, turning him, panting and exhausted.

Sy takes your hand and holds it against his sweats. You feel him underneath, hard as steel, pulsing, and thick.

“Oh shit,” you cry.

“Feel that, baby?” Sy groans, “That's what touchin’ you does to me. If ya want me to stop, I will, but don’t ask me to stop cause you think I don’t wanna do this. ‘Cause you’d be dead wrong.”

You gasp and whine, mewling as you melt into his gaze. An animal hunger and primal need is naked in his stare, but so was his enjoyment. There is a subtle curve to his lips as he starts to rut against your hand and you can have no doubt of his desire.

“Don’t stop,” you say. 

Sy voice reverberates in his chest as he rests his forehead against yourrs forehead, his eyes holding yours as with a gaze that would be predatory if he wasn’t simultaneously panting as if he’s trapped too.

The tension within you builds again, faster now and it takes you no time to flirt with the edge of release. Your body becomes unhinged; clenching, desperate, writhing. You cry out as you fly apart and for a moment you hang there, floating in bliss as your body undulates, riding out each scorching wave of euphoric pleasure.

When you come back down and can start to think coherently you feel Sy’s nose rubbing gently against yours. His hand is flat covering your core, slowly dragging up and down over you, as if he really is touching you for his own enjoyment. His mouth drifts lazily over yours, kissing your top then bottom lip.

Your hand is still against his cock, your fingers caging him as your palm presses flat. You move your hand, and you feel the rush of air from his lungs against your lips in a ragged exhale. You do it again and his hips jerk.

“Baby…” he drawls.

You roll onto your side so you're facing him, and rest your free hand against the centre of his chest, your fingers sinking into his coarse hair.

“Sy…” you hum back as you slide your hand down his torso until your fingers find another patch of hair and your fingertips dip teasingly into his waistband.

“Wanna touch me, huh?” he asks in a low, gravelly tone. 

“Yes,” you say.

“Fuck, that word has never sounded so good,” Sy grins.

You giggle softly then bite your lip, you probably shouldn’t laugh at a time like this.

Sy caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers, “I love it when you smile, Sugar.”

Your lips stretch wide, you can’t help it. Sy hums, still grinning and leans in to kiss you. You move your hand lower into his pants and finding the elastic of his boxer briefs, you slip your fingers beneath those too. Your heart pounds and your fingers tremble as you feel the tight soft skin of his cock. With the softest touch you can manage, you wrap your hand around him.

Sy sucks in a breath with a hiss, “Gonna take my pants off.” You nod and relax your hand, but he puts a hand on your wrist. “Don’t let go.”

You suppress another giggle as Sy awkwardly lowers his pants around where you’re joined. But he moves fast and quickly he settles onto his back and draws you close under his arm.

Looking down, your eyes widen as you take in the sight of him. Your body warms again as you watch your hand move slowly over him. You feel Sy’s body twitch, moving slightly as you work him with a slow easy rhythm. 

Then as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer he lets out a low groan and his whole body heaves. His arm tightens around you and he lifts your chin before covering your mouth with his. His tongue sweeps over yours as he kisses you firmly, ferociously, demandingly. Then he falls back again, his head dropping into the pillow.

You kiss his shoulder, his muscles pulling taut below his skin as he tightens his arm around you. Encouraged, you move your mouth along his collarbone to the base of his neck. You want to kiss him there but you’re too far away, so you move onto your belly, almost climbing over his huge form until you’re half on him, half on the mattress. Without stopping the motion of your hand, you nuzzle into his neck. His skin is so hot beneath your lips, humid as he breaks out into a sweat.

“Fuck,” he groans, and he holds the back of your head to him as his body rolls under you. Despite how small his size makes you feel physically, the way he moves, the noises that he makes, and the way he touches you, makes you feel powerful. You love knowing you’re making him feel good and you want to give him more.

You move down his body slowly, leaving a trail of kisses as you go. When you reach his hip, you look up at him and his eyes are already on you.

“Baby?” he asks.

You look at him in your hand briefly then look back at Sy and lick your lips.

“Wanna put me in your mouth, huh?” he whispers, his chest is pumping hard, his cock is pulsing and becoming unbelievably thick in your hand. He reaches down and rubs his thumb over your mouth. “Pretty li’l lips.”

“Yes.” You part your lips and without breaking the rhythmic motions of your hand you take him in your mouth.

“God damn…” He cradles your head in his warm hands, fingers caressing your neck and throat, tracing the curve of your jaw. 

“Look so good, baby… feel so good…” 

He groans and his hips move in a slow, gentle rocking motion, his body arching as he moves within your mouth. His tenderness is not what you’re used to; he essentially fucking your mouth, yet you feel as though he’s completely surrendered to the moment and to you.

Sy isn’t quiet, and you quickly discover what he likes by watching and listening. You find a nice rhythm, sucking and massaging with your tongue while he pumps into your mouth. He’s careful not to go too deep at first, but soon you see his starts to become erratic, tensing his thighs hard and he seems to grow harder in your hand. You take over, moving over him steadily increasing his pace.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he grunts out his warning, “Oh fuck! Gonna fuckin’ cum in your mouth.”

His eyes close tight, his head rolls back and his whole body seems to elongate. His groans turn into growls before he roars your name and begins to fill your mouth with long, thick, and warm jets.

“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles as you slow down your movements, gently licking within your mouth until he shivers with a hum and pulls his hips away.

You sit on your knees, unsure of what to do. Now that it is over and both your passions are sated, you wonder what is going to happen. You have fleeting images of awkward interactions, perhaps never talking about this night again.

You place your hand on his still trembling thigh. You like the feeling of his sparsely haired skin under your palm, and you try to commit this moment to memory, in case it never happens again. He’s so attractive; his shoulders, arms and forehead are covered in a light sheen, his mouth is curved into a soft smile and he has a hand on his chest as he breathes heavily and steadily while he comes down from his high.

“Whatcha doin’ all the way over there?” Sy asks as he lifts the hand off his chest and beckons you to him.

Hesitantly you lay next to him, positioning yourself into the crook of his arm with your head on his shoulder. He lifts your chin and kisses your mouth with a tender stroke of lips and tongue.

Sy pulls away humming and asks, “You need anythin’? A drink or somethin’?”

You shake your head, “No. Thank you though.”

Sy chuckles a little and kisses you on the top of your head. “Want to sleep?” He asks, his beard tickles your forehead as he adds, “With me?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say softly.

He leans down to bring the covers up over both of you. He hums again. He sounds content and happy, and starts to stroke your arms with his fingers. 

You start to think that maybe… maybe this thing with you and Sy isn't just a one off.

When you wake in the morning, you find yourself alone in bed. 

Your heart sinks into your gut and your throat seems to want to close up. You quickly take hold of yourself rationalising that you’re in his bed, surely he couldn’t be so desperate to avoid you that he would leave his own house and make you find your own way home.

As you raise your head to sit up, you notice a piece of paper on Sy’s pillow. Nervously, you reach for it and see that it’s a quickly scrawled note.

Gone for a run.

You looked so pretty sleeping, I didn’t wanna wake you. 

I put the coffee on. Make yourself a cup if you want. 

Sy

The mild panic you felt begins to wane as you read over his note again. He hasn’t just left you, he’s coming back and he still thinks you’re pretty. Smiling stupidly, you flop back onto the bed and give a little squeal into the pillows.

Before Sy returns, you get dressed in your clothes from last night. The top you wore felt scandalously low in the light of the early morning, but your coat would cover most of it. You wash your face and rub some toothpaste onto your teeth and rinse. You think about looking for a brush, but you don’t want to go searching through Sy’s bathroom cabinet.

Just as you’re finishing pouring yourself a coffee, Sy returns. He hasn’t noticed you yet, so biting your lip you take the time to really look at him as he toes off his sneakers. Sy is spectacularly attractive wearing an army PT t-shirt, a pair of running shorts, iPod earbuds in his ears, dripping with sweat and humming. He seems to ooze a raw, primal, brutal sexuality in his walk as he heads your way.

When he finally notices you, he grins and pulls the earbuds out and lays his iPod on the kitchen bench. He comes close but keeps some distance between you as he lays a hand on your hip before leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“Mornin’, Sugar,” he says. He takes a step back as you reach for him and you feel disappointed. It must have shown on your face because he quickly continues, “I’m all sweaty. Gonna take a shower, okay?”

You smile and nod, “Okay.”

He returns your smile and takes half a step to move away, before changing his mind and turning back to you.

“I liked comin’ home to you,” he says. His eyes wander over your clothes, and he runs a finger down your exposed chest. “You look good.”

Feeling a little timid by his suggestive touch, you look to the ground and make a joke. “You like my walk of shame outfit?”

“I ain’t ashamed, baby,” he says, sweaty or not, he takes you in his arms, “you ain’t got nothin’ to be ashamed of neither. I don’t regret what happened last night. Not one bit.”

You meet his eyes and see how open his stare is and you believe him. You see the unasked question as he peers at you. “I don’t either, Sy.”

“Good,” Sy grins, “‘Cause I wanna do it again.” You laugh a little and look away and Sy chuckles too. “No, I mean… Well yeah, that. But I wanna take ya out. On a date.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Sy says firmly. Then his eyes light up. “Wait here okay? Wanna show ya somethin’.” 

He doesn’t wait for your reply and leaves the kitchen coming back moments later with an envelope and hands it to you.

“Last night, you asked why I hadn’t said anythin’ about how I felt,” he waits for you to nod before he continues, “Well, I was planning on askin’ you to come with me. Ask you out, I mean.”

Turning the envelope over, you lift the flap and pull out two concert tickets to Jane’s Addiction.

“Sy, I…” you look at him feeling overwhelmed, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll go with me.”

“Of course I will,” you say.

Sy draws you into his arms, kisses you and doesn’t let go.

[livingbreathingdreams]

❤︎ Oh, honey

Pairing: Bartender!Captain Syverson x Reader

Summary: A first date and cowboy hats.

A/N: This sequel exists thanks to a video of two bearded men in cowboy hats line dancing to Footloose on Tiktok 🤠🧡

Part I

The next time she came into the bar, she was a little more awkward than usual. He could tell she was embarrassed about getting shitfaced and telling him all of her private business. She told him she wasn’t sure he was being sincere when he said he wanted to take her out, which made his heart crack a little. How could she not see what a catch she was and that HE would be the lucky one, should she ever give him a chance?

It took some hot tea with a generous swig of Fireball on the house, and some coaxing from Sy to get her to finally believe him. But the smile that made its way onto her lips was reward enough for him. They agreed on Saturday night, when he wasn’t scheduled to work at the Drink & Jive.

//

She wore a pair of jeans that hugged her in all the right places and a really soft-looking blouse when she stepped out of her front door. He didn’t want to tell her where they were going and told her to pick a casual outfit she would feel comfortable in. This time, the strawberry red on her lips looked just right. He had to clear his throat before speaking. “You look breathtaking honey.” And he wasn’t the only one who had trouble keeping himself from unraveling. Her voice came out breathy. “Thank you, Sy. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Which wasn’t a lie. He wore his best pair of jeans and a crisp, clean button-up with a silver triangle bolo tie. An outfit he had picked especially for her.

He opened the passenger door of his truck for her. His truck was black and looked exactly like she’d imagined his car would look like, except a lot cleaner. It looked almost like he had cleaned it for her, which made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Jogging around the front of the car Sy got into the driver’s seat and turned his body toward her, smirking, reaching for something on the back seat. Without a warning, he plopped something on top of her head and into her lap. A little startled giggle left her when she took the hat off her head and studied his offerings.

A bouquet of tulips in rustic parchment paper. A cowboy hat, in pristine white, made from incredibly soft material.

“Do you have that little confidence in the date you have planned that you have to bribe me?” The sparkle in her eyes made it clear that she was only joking but deep down he did feel a little like he needed to proof himself as a worthy partner.

“No, I know you will like it but I think you deserve to be spoiled.”

“I… Thank you, Sy.” The same breathy voice but a smile so bright it warmed up the whole inside of his truck.

//

Arriving at the destination a chuckle escaped her. “Really? Another bar, that’s where you want to go when you’re off work?”

Once they stepped inside the whole cowboy hat of it all suddenly made sense. She was standing there, her jaw nearly hitting the floor. Country music? That was one thing she did not expect Sy to be into. A room full of cowboy hats, cowboy boots, boot cut jeans and polished belt buckles. People whirling around to Hank Williams and drinking beer and whiskey.

Looking up at Sy, who now stood next to her wearing his own cowboy hat and his signature grin she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. A joyful, pearling sound that made him want to swear an oath to always find ways to keep her laughing and happy.

His warm hand on her lower back he gently steered her into the direction of the bar. “What would you like to drink honey?” The term of endearment made her cheeks feel hot and her insides all gooey. “You know I like something sweet and strong. I need some liquid courage before we get on the dance floor because I have two left feet.”

Waving down the bartender Sy ordered their drinks, standing so close to her, she could feel his body heat. “You’ll be fine honey.” Right when he said that an unassuming looking guy in a washed-out shirt and trucker hat threw his dance partner up on his shoulder, whirling the woman around, making her think of a windmill. Sy must have seen the expression on her face. Chuckling, he reassured her that they would stay with the basics.

This was different, so very different from every date she’d ever gone on. No fancy restaurant with table cloths and candle sticks, no awkwardly sitting next to each other, staring at the screen in a movie theatre. This dancing was different. No grinding, being groped with sweaty hands in a sea of bodies on a dark dance floor.

He had spent some time trying to teach her an easy two step, which she did not master but still had a lot of fun trying. Now he was just leading her around the dance floor, spinning, preventing her from running into other people, making her laugh. There was a lot of space between everyone, between them, and yet it felt like she’s never been closer to someone. His presence was calming and effortlessly bridged the gap between them.

//

At the end of the night they both were a little sweaty and tired but very happy. When is truck came to a hold in front of her house, he got out and opened the door for her, helping her out, not letting go of her hand after. Her skin was glowing under the street lights and her smile still bright when she looked up at him. “Thank you, Sy. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

He looked at her like she was something other than just human, his eyes drifting gown to her lips. “Oh, honey. Will you let me take you out again? This is just the beginning.” Her answer was just as breathy as in the beginning of their date.

“Yes, please.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

[its--fandom--darling]

dirty talk - captain syverson

Captain Syverson x Fem!Reader

KINKTOBER DAY 4 - DIRTY TALK

18+ only!!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! 

TW: dirty talk, degradation (whore, slut, cockdumb), aftercare, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please), overuse of pet names, if I missed anything let me know please!

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

Sex with Sy was always good, but when he’d been away for bit on a job, he ran his mouth in way that lit you up from the inside out. The dirtiest things would spill from his plush lips as he thrust into you hard and fast. It was often focused on how well your pussy was taking his cock. 

Tonight was no different, Sy’s got you on your hands and knees, his big hands grippings your hips with a level of strength that you knew would leave bruises behind tomorrow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as the sound of his pelvis slapping into your ass as it mingled with your muffled moans. 

“Yeah, that’s it, taking daddy’s cock like a perfect little cock slut. You just love it when I fuck you like this dontcha?”

You respond with a moan. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought. Just started fuckin you and you’ve already gone cockdumb, hmm. Pathetic,” he mocks.

You whimper a bit as he tugs on your hair, wrapping one arm around your waist to tug you up against his chest. 

His thrusts grow wilder and your moans grow in tandem, the hand around your waist sneaking down to rub at your clit as he thrust deeper into you on each stroke. “You feel so fuckin good, darlin’, can feel your sweet little cunt squeezin me, ya must be close huh? You gonna cum for daddy, darlin’?”

You moan weakly, hands scrambling to find purchase on his forearm as your body rocked with the force of his thrusts. 

He growled in your ear, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Want you to cum with me baby, cum with me and I’ll fill you up.”

You whine, biting your lip as your eyes roll back as your climax crests and pleasure courses through your limbs. “Daddy,” your whine, as you go limp against him. 

With a few more thrusts, he cums with a growl, letting his hips thrust a few last times before he stills. You can feel his heart pounding through his furry chest against your back, as the two of you both try to catch your breath. He presses soft kisses to your shoulder, “You okay sugar?” 

You nod, slowly before stretching your neck from side to side as he continues to press kisses along your spine. 

“Words, sugar,” he gruffs, pulling out of you.

“I’m fine, Sy,” you murmur, looking at him over your shoulder and meeting his big blue eyes. “Totally fine.”

He gives you a once over and then leans in to kiss your forehead. “Let me clean you up and then we’ll watch a movie or something.”

“Okay,” you hum, laying back against the mussed sheets. You clock the whine from outside of the bedroom door and shake your head. “Sy, don’t forget to let Aika in after we’re sorted or she’ll make a mess again.”

He chuckles. “I won’t forget,” he mutters coming out of the bathroom with a warm washcloth. He gently wipes down your core and thighs, cleaning the mix of sticky spend off your skin with gentle strokes. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before taking a step towards the bathroom and launching the used cloth into the hamper there. “You want one of my shirts?” he asks, moving to his dresser and pulling out a pair of lounge pants for himself.

“Yes please,” you say making grabby hands at him.

He chuckles, “the DILLIGAF or my ARMY shirt?”

“Surprise me,” you murmur, as you see him tug his well loved red dilligaf shirt from his drawer and toss it over to you. 

“Think fast, Aika incoming in 3,2,1,” he says, opening the door to a flash of black and brown fur barrelling into the room and diving onto the bed with a happy bark.

You giggle and scratch her ears. “Good girl, Aika, you ready to cuddle with us?” She lets out a soft yip and curls up by you, resting her head on your thigh. 

“You stealing my girl, Aika?” he teases, slipping under the covers and patting her head. 

“Nah, I’m still your girl, but Aika and I are besties.”

He rolls his eyes and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “That is an understatement. Y’all are partners in crime.” 

You giggle and lean into his shoulder, “You love it.”

He chuckles, “I do, wouldn’t change it for the world. Now, what should we watch?”

TAGGING: @persephone-is-here-omg @salimahbicharara-comun @nuggsmum @angryschnauzer @littlefreya @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @cavillsthighs @mary-ann84 @henrythickcavill @the-soot-sprite​

[deandoesthingstome]

Welcoming Committee - Part 9

Pairing: Captain Syverson X Reader/OFC (Drea); August Walker x OFC (Genevieve/Neve); Captain Syverson x OFC (Genevieve/Neve); August Walker x Reader/OFC (Drea)

Word count: 940

Series Summary: You and Sy have been together for three years, but you still like to mix it up. The new neighbors down the street give you a chance to do just that.

Masterlist for series warnings. Heads up: this is 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings: Sub/dom, little smidge of degradation, oral F receiving, fingering

"Why don't you finish getting me ready for that?" August spoke into my ear as I nuzzled and wiggled back against him. He felt 110% hard to me, so he could only mean one other thing. I snaked an arm back around his neck and tilted my head around for a deep kiss before asking.

"Where do I find them, Sir?" I whispered after letting his tongue slide out from between my lips.

"There's a pretty box on the table in front of you." I'd been so caught up, I didn't even notice the white box of heavy paper board wrapped with an elegant black satin ribbon. Who brings gifts to their own house warming?

I slipped to my knees in front of the couch, and tugged on one end of the bow. I almost regretted the limit I put on August just a few moments earlier as I imagined the feel of that fabric around my throat.

"I can find another use for it, I assure you," August broke into my thoughts again.

I lifted the box top and peered into the wide shallow container. A few small bottles of lube lay next to two strips of condoms along with a surprise I wasn't expecting.

"Why don't you take a few of those across the room and we'll dig into the rest when you get back?"

I nodded and reached for a bottle and one of the strips, but as I began to lift myself off the floor, August stood himself and pushed me back down.

"Hands and knees, darling," he commanded as he began to loosen his tie, drawing the silk out from his shirt collar. "I can make use of this if you want me, too, as well."

I let my mind linger on his wicked smirk as I stalked away, grateful for the plush rug beneath my knees. When I reached the couch where Sy was grinding his thigh between Neve's legs in an effort to keep himself from slamming straight into her, he turned expressing shock to see me and then immediate gratitude as I offered up the protection.

I knew he was grateful because of the way he leaned over to capture my lips with his. I felt the faint remnants of Neve's release, cooled drops in the hairs of his beard tickling my lips. The smell was intoxicating and it made me hungry for her. I tangled my tongue with Sy's a moment more before I broke free of our kiss. I sat back on my heels and glanced over my shoulder to see August remove his shirt, and while the sight of his muscular chest and arms certainly presented another choice, in the moment all I could think about was Neve and whether or not I wanted to ask his permission.

I took one more breath to consider my options: ask and maybe get denied a little indulgence. Or don't ask and certainly get denied his cock. I had no doubt that if I took the liberty I was contemplating, August wouldn't think twice about withholding from me when I returned to him, no matter how hard or ready he was. I watched him stroke his long, thick cock while watching me on my knees and I knew I had no choice.

"Sir? May I taste her? Help keep her ready, while Sy gets the rubber on? Please, Sir." Nothing but contrition. No sass in my voice. Just a clear desire to lick and suck the juice from Neve's pussy. When August gave permission I thanked him quickly and appropriately, then turned to see Sy move back a bit while Neve spread her leg wider off the couch, giving me free access to her dripping center.

She wrapped a hand around my neck and gently pulled me close. Sy's groan as he tore the condom wrapper made my heart soar. He sounded so lustful. I licked my lips and nestled my head back into Neve's hand before leaning in further and latching onto her folds. I nibbled and sucked up and down her slit and slipped my tongue in, so eager for more of her wetness. I nudged my nose against her hard, little button, then pointed the tip of my tongue and swirled it over the sensitive bundle of nerves before sealing my lips and sucking there, too.

Her squeals were music to my ears but they didn't hold a candle to the sweet and tangy taste of her cunt. I went back to sucking her lips and dragging my tongue along her open hole, lapping at her honeyed secretions. Sy had taught me a thing or two, two being the number of fingers I slipped inside her past my tongue. She was so hot, so wet. I wanted to smooth my fingers over the walls of her pussy and press on her secret spot and make her come in my mouth, hopefully screaming, forever.

But both Sy and August had other plans.

"Return to me, Drea," August commanded just as Sy was also getting too impatient.

"That'll do, Sugar. I got her from here."

I turned to see Sy pumping along the length of his sheathed cock, smoothing a large bead of lube over the whole package. He leaned over to give me one last kiss, checking in with his eyes. "You're doing so good, baby. So fucking hot. I love seeing you get what you want from another man. It makes me so fucking hard. I'm gonna wreck you when you tell me all about it later," Sy growled in my ear before sending me back to his friend.

Part 10

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Pt. 3: Drivin’ you crazy...

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)

Summary: Sy tells his story and you tell yours. And all of that pent up feeling has to go somewhere, right?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Mentions of teenage pregnancy, cheating, deception, divorce, breakups., self-destructive behaviors, fighting, promiscuity, mentally abusive relationships, miscarriage. Army life. Old automobiles, a 20 year high school reunion, a drive-in, red meat and french fries, dirty talk, voice kink, mentions of masturbation, fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), grown ppl getting NASTY in the back of a car, graphic depictions of sex acts.

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

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

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Previous part

—--

You let Sy’s arm go and settled in for the ride once you got to State Route 405. The window was down and you were making waves in the wind, just like you used to do all those years ago. 

Sy looked over at you and felt something that he couldn’t name at that moment, and the feeling intensified when you reached up and pulled your hair out of the chignon, letting it go wild in the wind. 

He didn’t know he made a sound in his throat as he admired how you looked in the moonlight. You looked back over at him, hair whipping around your face; gorgeous.

“What?”

He realized that he was grateful that you agreed to come with him at all. He said something instead of what he was feeling.

“You hungry?”

You looked out to the highway and smiled at the road.

“Looks like you already know the answer to that.”

Sy nodded at you, a slight smile on his lips. He felt the familiar rhythm of you two falling back in sync. Didn’t seem like two decades at all. 

“Just checking.”

After a comfortably silent ten minute ride, you pulled up at Cardin’s Drive-Thru, an institution in your town. You grinned at Sy.

“The world is your oyster, order anything you want.”

He waved his hand toward the menu on his side of the car and you giggled at the familiar phrase. You scooted closer to him on the bench seat. 

“Sorry. I wear glasses now. Didn’t bring them.”

Sy didn’t know why the image of you in glasses got him hard. You glanced at him as you leaned over him to look at the menu to see if it had changed. He took in your breasts as you gave him a view of your cleavage as you leaned over his lap. Lord, give him strength.

“No worries at all, Buttercup.”

His voice was gruff and you felt his breath on your face as you closed your eyes and took a whiff of burgers and fries and Sy.

Sy was practicing all of his restraint as you stayed close to him to look at the menu.

“I want…”

That voice did something to Sy, and he had to shift in his seat. You and that damn cute look of curiosity didn’t help the situation in his pants either. 

“I want… a Smokey Burger and a chocolate shake please!” 

You were as happy as a clam.

“Y’know. I’ve had dreams about Cardin’s burgers, especially since I stopped eating red meat two years ago. But you know what, tonight seems to be all about “Fuck It!” 

Sy raised his eyebrow at you.

“You just ordered a burger with double patties and bacon.”

“Yep,” You popped the p. “I know.” 

You grinned at him and he shook his head.

“Still living dangerously, I see.”

You raised your chin.

“I’m still living,” you replied.

An understanding passed between you.

“Amen.”

Sy stretched his long arm out of the window to press the button and order, and you were staring at his forearms again. Don’t be such a slut, you thought.

“Yes, we need a Smokey Burger, a chocolate shake, a Huge Burger, no onions, and an extra large Frenchy fries, with a large Dr. Enuf.”

He smirked at you after the order was confirmed.

“It’s a given that you would come for my Frenchy fries.”

Sy gave you a short history about the ownership of the legendary drive-in, and how the new owners were long time residents who vowed to restore its former glory, including the world famous Frenchy fries.

“Well, Cardin’s fries are legendary, but I have to be careful. ‘M not the same size I used to be.”

You smoothed your dress down as much as you could while seated. Sy followed the path of your hands on your body and licked his lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You look damn good to me.”

Sy arched his eyebrow at you and you laughed nervously.

“I’m dead serious. You look even better than I remember, Buttercup. You were always so pretty.”

You were quiet as you looked into his eyes. He was being sincere.

“Sy, that’s sweet.”

He moved toward you, getting into your space. You couldn’t breathe, and your primal brain was kicking in.

“If you only knew what thoughts I’m thinkin, Buttercup. You wouldn’t call me, “sweet.”

 His eyes ran over your body posessively. 

“You are still the finest woman I’ve ever seen.”

You were locked in, ready to ask him what he was thinking and let him ruin your life all over again. You parted your lips to lick them and speak when you heard the metal of the drive-in tray connect with the open window behind Sy and your focus shifted as Sy moved away.

“Got your food here!”

Sy ran his hand through his short curls. He looked annoyed. At the interruption, his hair, maybe both?

“Haven’t had my hair this long in a while. Growing it out.”

You reached out and arranged an errant curl.

“Looks good on you, Sy.”

He just grinned and then turned to get the food. 

Once the food was in the car and paid for, he asked, “Wanna take this up to the Lookout?”

You looked at him skeptically.

“Only so we can tailgate and talk and stretch our legs. And look at the view.”

He smiled that rogueish smile at you. Some things never change, you thought with a smile. You sipped your shake, which was still really too thick to drink, and nodded.

“What the hell. You only live once, right?”

“Ya damn right, Buttercup.”

— 

You sat eating Sy’s Frenchy fries under the star light as country music played and Sy looked at you thoughtfully, Beyonce playing in the background.

Il tuo fedel

Sospira ognor

Cessa, crudel

Tanto rigor

Ooh

Ooh

“You ready?”

You hopped off the liftgate and stood in front of him, prepared to hear his story.

“Let’s go.”

Sy took a deep breath as you waited and listened. 

“Well, the fact is, you told me so.”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me if I was sure that the baby was mine. Then I got mad and that made things worse. And that was the last time you spoke to me.”

“Yeah.”

“And after you broke up with me, rightly so in that situation, I decided to be there for my family. Becca and I got married at the courthouse before the baby came, and I enlisted in order to have an income and health insurance for the baby.”

Your heart clenched.

“I shipped out right after little Jeremiah was born.”

There was a wistful smile on Sy’s face that warmed your heart.

“Becca stayed with her parents while I was on tour, and for two years we were apart. It was hard bein’ away, and Becca and I didn’t have the best relationship, but I was set to make it work for our kid, ya’ know?”

“I wouldn’t have expected anything less, Sy.”

He looked at you long and hard.

“Becca broke the news to me when I came back. The baby was Jeremy’s, but he didn’t want to accept responsibility at the time, and she knew I would.”

“What?”

Your mouth dropped open. 

“Jeremy Atkins. Your best friend Jeremy?”

“Unhhunh.”

Sy looked as hurt as if it just happened.

“I am so sorry Sy.”

“It was a helluva blow. And I was so angry. At myself for believing the lie, you know? For getting attached to the idea of being a parent.”

Your heart broke for Sy. You moved closer to him.

“I was so self destructive. Got into fights with everyone at every bar within a 50 mile radius. Then, I went right back to Afghanistan, acting as if each one was a suicide mission.”

Sy’s voice lowered.

“Came home in another two years and screwed up the courage to ask Bubbles about you. She told me you were engaged to…”

“Scott. Yeah…”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, but Sy lifted your chin with his fingers, causing you to look him in the eyes.

“And you know what? Thinking that you were happy calmed me down a little. I was proud of you for getting your degree and moving on, so I decided to do the same. Went to college, mostly on line, and then Officer’s Training School, joined Special Forces. Went back to the front and became a leader. Immersed myself in the cause while keeping perspective of my role in it. But a couple of years ago I got injured,”

He saw the look on your face.

“It’s my back. I’m mostly fine. But it allowed me to retire early.”

Sy looked around at the view, the twinkling lights of the town.

“I started a business with a partner, and I volunteered to be the offensive line coach for the high school in my spare time. I even got to coach Jeremiah his senior year. He’s turned out to be a good kid.”

He looked at you, and time seemed to melt away. He was the same Sy you fell in love with 20 years ago. But with so much more wisdom. 

“I live a good life, Buttercup. Don’t feel sorry for me.”

You moved to sit beside him again on the tailgate. You were silent as you tried to think of what to say.

“I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m sorry this happened to you. I forgive you for what I held against you. Sy? D’you forgive me?”

You needed his answer like air.

“Nothing to forgive, Buttercup. Like I said. I can’t complain about my life.”

You looked up at Sy who was looking up at the stars with a wry smile on his face. You looked up, too. He looked back down at your profile.

“What about you? How has your life been?”

You took a deep breath, contemplating that question and the stars. You decided to tell him everything. Well, almost everything.

“I was angry too, Sy. You know that. Angry that all my well laid plans were turned to dust in a moment. When I went to college across the state, I decided to stop caring so much. So, I fucked everyone in sight.”

Sy winced. You chuckled.

“I calmed down in a couple of years and met Scott. He seemed so steady? He was in law school, and his father was a partner in a big firm. He said that I didn’t have to finish my degree; I could just go home with him to New York City, have a couple of babies and be a society wife. Seemed like a good idea, so I did. I left just two semesters shy of having my degree in architecture.” 

You shook your head at your gullibility.

“My mom was elated, thinking I’d hit the jackpot.”

You got up again and started pacing, hands wrapped around yourself as you thought back to that time in your life.

“It was not good. Two miscarriages, 3 mistresses, and 8 years later, I finally found the courage to leave with Carla when she came to visit. I vowed never to go back to that headspace again.”

Sy stood up then, fists closed at his side and his jaw clenched.

“I didn’t know. I asked about you, but neither Bubbles nor Blossom told me that. I would have come for you, Buttercup.”

You smiled at him. 

“They knew better than to say a word to you. Seven years ago I didn’t want anyone to know. And I didn’t need rescuing. I rescued myself.”  

You smiled again and Sy just wanted to hold you.

“Went back to school and finished my degree. Lived life on my own terms.”

You looked him in the eye again.

“So yeah, I guess I have a pretty good life, too.”

“I’m glad, Buttercup.”

Sy sat down again and your eyes moved down the length of him. Why did brown dress shoes get you so hot? You had a problem.

“You sharing this good life with anyone?”

Sy’s voice made you nervous all of a sudden. You looked at your hands.

“Not at the moment, no. I’m single.”

Sy seemed to let out a breath. 

“Me, too, been single ever since I retired.”

You didn’t know what to say. 

“Oh.”

Sy stood up and walked in front of you. You were still looking at his shoes.

“Ya know, I’ve only felt like I’ve been in love once, no. Twice in my life.”

“Hmmm.”

You were afraid of this conversation and you couldn’t fully participate. 

“Please look at me Buttercup.”

You did as he asked. His eyes were burning right through you.

“The first time I felt that was 20 years ago, with you. And the second…”

Sy moved toward you and took your hands in his.

“Hell, we’ve wasted enough time, Buttercup. The truth is,when I saw you tonight I realized that I’m still in love with you now.”

—-

The wind was knocked out of you. How were you supposed to respond?

“Sy, I- I can’t survive another hurt. My heart is in pieces.”

“I know, Buttercup. But I promised you that I will love you until the day I die. I meant that shit. I still mean it.”

He moved closer, and he slotted himself between your thighs. His hands went to your hips and he pulled you close.

“Won’t you let me make it up to you? These last 20 years?”

You continued to look into his eyes as you considered his request. You put your hands on his chest as you made your decision.

“No, Sy. I can’t let you do that.”

He looked hurt and his eyes were cast down as his cheeks dusted pink. He thought he blew it. Then you spoke again.

“The past is the past. It’s done. We can try and work on today. And tomorrow. One day at a time. I’d like to try with you.”

Sy’s brow furrowed, but his face softened as he realized what you were saying. He gave you a soft smile.

“Fair enough, Buttercup. Let’s work on today. And tomorrow. I’ll give you some time.”

You thought about how Sy was always a gentleman with you, never pushing you to do anything you didn’t want to do, always putting your needs first. Well, you needed him now.

Your hands were fisting his shirt now, pulling apart so that you could see his dog tags against his chest hair, and that image sent you feral. You pulled him toward you. Sy sucked in a breath as you left a soft kiss on his lips, his beard tickling your cheeks. He seemed frozen as you pulled away. 

“Mmmhm.”

Sy grunted in his throat and his hands came up to your waist. His cock was swelling and he felt on the edge of control. 

“I wanna kiss you again, Buttercup. And not in a ‘sweet’ way.”

“Do it, Sy. We’re grown now.” 

You were breathless at the emotion and lust in his voice. 

Sy moved his hand to the back of your neck and you shivered as he carded his fingers at the back of your scalp, tugging on your curls to make you look up at him.

“‘M not sure you are ready for all that I want, Buttercup.”

And his mouth descended on yours, his thumb came around and ticked your jaw open for him to invade your senses with himself. He kissed you like he owned you, and his hands ended up on both sides of your head as you moaned your way through the kiss. He pulled away, looked at your lips, then went back in to kiss you again.

“Ya got my mind runnin’ baby. Those lips. Fuck. I’m down bad.”

Sy’s cock was hard and aching, and his hands were on your body: those thighs, that ass as he pulled you closer to him. Then he stopped and leaned away, searching your face. Your eyes were dilated and those lips were parted.

Holy fuck, was he a goner.

You whimpered and pulled him closer, your hands going to his ass as he kissed you again. He was laughing at you as he pulled away this time.

“Look who’s getting spicy no-”

Sy stopped talking when you ripped his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. You were disappointed when you saw the tank he was wearing underneath.

“Sorry Sy. I ruined your shirt. I don’t know what came over me.”

You looked up at him under your lashes and he couldn’t tell if you were being facetious or not. You toyed with his dog tags, imagining them waving in your face as... Shit. What were you doing?

Sy stepped back and pulled the shirt off, and pulled the tank out of his pants, then came back to you immediately, hands moving up your thighs, pushing your short dress up even further.

“I know what came over you. Same thing’s that’s been possessing me for years, Buttercup.”

Sy leaned down to capture your eyes and you were stuck. You were locked in on him as he proceeded to destroy your sou.

“You’ve been drivin’ me crazy for years, running around my mind as I did a lot of things. Thought of you when I was training, eating, doing things around the house. When I was in-country and alone in my tent at night. When I…”

Sy stopped and licked his lips as his hands reached the tops of your thighs, long fingers toying with the waistband of your panties. You squirmed in his grip.

“Shit, Buttercup, do you ever think of me when you touch yourself?”

You were mute, mouth open to breathe, and Sy knew you were in the zone. 

“Cause I sure as hell do. Do you know how often I’ve imagined you wrapped around me when it was just my hand?”

Sy whispered it in your ear, but pulled back to see your reaction, which was wide-eyed lust. You licked your lips and nodded, ready to hear more. 

“Time and space is nothin’ to fight this powerful magic that is the thought of you, Darlin’. I imagine you, imagining me while you touch your pretty little pussy, circling your little clit with your delicious wetness. I dream of you getting off because of me, just like I cum so fucking hard just thinking of you. Every time.”

Sy watched your eyes close and your chest heave as you tried to regulate. He continued with his seduction.

“...But I know it’s nothing like the real thing.”

Your own fingers ventured below his undershirt, finding thick abdominal muscles there, and a dense happy trail. His stomach clenched in response to your touch.

“Mmmm. Can I touch you too, Buttercup? Are these panties soaked? Can I check to make sure?”

You were nodding as your hands went up his pecs, grabbing them, your fingers ghosting over his nipples. Sy moved his hands at a glacial pace it seemed, because you wanted him instantly where you needed him most. 

He found your sodden center over the gusset of your panties and you pressed into his light touch. He groaned as he started rubbing up and down your clothed seam and pressing the now sticky material into you. You leaned forward and started licking and sucking the veins that popped up on his neck. He moaned.

‘You got me so far gone, baby. I wanna…’’

He grabbed the side of your panties and you whimpered with need.

“Just say the word, and I’ll stop. But right now I can’t help myself. Need to feel you, touch you, taste you.”

“Don’t stop, Sy. Been waiting so long.”

Sy put his forehead against yours, breath huffing in time with yours. You again asked for what you wanted.

“Sy. I need you. Need to feel y-”

Your words caught in your throat as Sy pulled your panties to the side and sunk his fingers into your wetness. The obscene slosh of you made Sy pulse in his pants. He trailed up and down your cut, shaking his head and clenching his jaw.

“Why?” 

He looked up at you as if you had wounded him, blue eyes blazing.

“Why are you so fucking…so fucking wet? How do you expect for me t-to f-f fuck! T’ function when…?”

The stutter did you in.

“‘S’all you, Sy. Got wet when I first saw you t’night…”

Sy pulled his fingers out and tasted them, moaning, then growling, and then took a hold of your waist and practically threw you in the back of the truck. He leaned over the gate, pulled your thighs apart, then tore your panties off, causing you to squeal.

“You’re so fucking pretty. Gotta taste you, Buttercup. Can’t believe it’ll be my first time.”

“Go for it.”

You winked and smiled at him, but the look was wiped from your face as he dove into your crease, tongue licking a rude stripe from the bottom to the top of you. You put your hand over your mouth as you moaned.

Sy looked up at you, offended.

“Don’t keep your sounds from me, baby. Need to hear the real thing instead of my imagination.”

He went back to work kissing your clit, then sucking it into his mouth with increasing intensity. The slight burn from his beard was delicious. You got a grip of his hair as he manhandled your thighs, keeping you in place as you writhed and arched beneath him. He moaned against you while talking to your pussy. 

“So fucking good for me.” 

“Taste like a jar o’ spicy honey...”

“Hmmm. Beard’s all soaked now. That’s my girl.”

“Gettin’ even wetter for me, that’s what I like. Gimme.”

“I love this pretty little pussy.”

His proclamations were punctuated by kisses, licks, and sucks and finally, he pushed one thick finger into you as you called his name. The cunilingus, penetration, and praise had you teetering on the precipice.

“Syyyyyy!”

“That’s it. Let me hear you. Damn, you’re so fucking hot and so godamn tight. Dream about giving you my cock, but I don’t know if you can take it…”

He knew he had you as he leaned back down to suck your clit like taffy candy again. You watched him and moaned. Then he added another finger. You stiffened. Then he crooked his fingers, telling you to come to him, and you did. And all over his face.

Sy took off his tank and wiped his face with it, then unbuckled his pants and fisted his cock, crawling in the back of the truck with you.

“Don’t have any condoms, just let me… just let me rub one out…so fucking hard for you Buttercup.”

Sy was so far gone, his mind was mush.

“C’mere, Baby…”

You reached for him as he shuffled near you on his knees and started stroking, admiring the large mushroom cap of his cock glistening from pre-cum in the starlight. You fell in love with the way his length curved into the curls on his abs, and the way his breath hitched as your hand tried to close around him. You pressed your nose into his belly to inhale his scent, careful not to stop what your hand was doing. 

It was your turn to pleasure him.

“I do think about you, Sy. I imagine deep throating you while you play in my pussy. Makes me cum so hard against my little bullet.”

You pressed a kiss near his belly button as his cock jerked in your hand and his abs clenched. His hand went to your hair. You could tell that he wanted to move your mouth to his dick, but that he was holding back. You lifted your hand, jacking him faster as you kissed his balls, which were so tight against him.

“Wan’ you to cum all over my stomach, my tits…”

Sy groped your chest, searching for and then twisting your taught nipple when he found it. He was outright panting as you talked him through it.

“.... my ass, my lips, Sy…”

His groan was louder now and his knees were shaking as you licked a stripe up the underside of him, pausing, to purse your lips and gloss them in the clear fluid at his tip. You gazed up at him as you stuck your tongue out and kitten licked him.

“Truth is, I’m a slut for you. Fuck my face Sy,”

“Shhhhhitttttttt….!”

Sy grabbed your head and used your mouth while you concentrating on taking his thick length and breathing. 

“You’re a slut, hunh? My slut?”

You nodded as best you could, only to have your eyes roll as he pushed down your throat.

“Dream about swallowing my cum? D’ya? Like a good girl?”

“Ummhnnghhh!”

There were tears rolling down your face and saliva dripping down your chin.

“So fucking pretty swallowing my cock. Fuck….here it… fucking… comes….. Fuckkkk!”

Sy roared as his dick pulsed cum directly down your throat and you received it, letting your jaw go slack. Sy groaned as he pulled out and stroked the last of his spend on your outstretched tongue.

“So fucking nasty, Buttercup, who woulda thought?”

He beamed at you as you showed him his handiwork. He closed your mouth and you swallowed before he pulled you in for a filthy kiss. He cleaned your face with his tank top, straightened your clothes and his, and then pulled you to him.

“That was…”

You were hoarse, and you laughed. Sy laughed with you.

“That was hot.”

“Yeah. It was great.”

“I love you, Buttercup.”

There was silence on your end. You shivered as you thought about what was holding you back.

Sy didn’t want any awkwardness. He kept it moving.

“It’s getting chilly out.” 

He climbed out of the back of the truck and picked up his shirt, flicking any dust off of it and put it on you. Then, he put his tank top back on.

“Sy! That’s… Dirty.”

You blushed as you thought of your fluids all over it.

Sy lifted it and smelled it, then grinned back up at you.

“Yeah, smells like your pussy. Don’t think I’ll ever wash it.”

“Jacob Syverson!”

You swatted at his chest.

“Don’t act all shy on me now, not after what we just did, Buttercup.” 

He lead you back around to the passenger seat again and buckled you in. You bit your lip wondering what came next. Was this really happening? 

In a few minutes you were back at your car. The parking lot was empty except for your rental. Sy jumped out and opened your door. When you were back in your car, he leaned through the window and kissed your lips. 

“You’re here until Monday, yeah?”

It was Friday night. There was a weekend of activities for the reunion planned.

“Yeah. I’ll be at the cookout tomorrow, and church and brunch on Sunday. And I have a job interview Monday morning.”

Sy raised his eyebrow at that last bit, but didn’t ask for an explanation.

“Can I see you tomorrow night? Dinner?”

“Okay.”

Why were you so breathless?

Sy was anxious at letting you go.

“I’ll follow you to your air bnb. Just to make sure everything’s safe.”

You smirked at him. 

“Alright.”

Sy followed you to your old neighborhood, which now seemed to be gentrified, got out and checked out the house. Then, you walked him back to the front door. He leaned on the door frame and towered above you.

“G’night, Buttercup."

He licked those sinful lips of his.

"Sweet dreams.”

He leaned down and kissed you and then straightened up, eyes on you hungrily. He was driving you crazy, looking like a sex god. You thought about the amount of time you had left and you made a decision. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him into the house.

“Get your fine ass in here, Sy. I’m not done with you tonight.”

----

Next part Here

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Captain Syverson Fics

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Feeding the U.S Army

summery: You’re a Masterchef contestant, and during the team challenge you and your team have to cook for 100 army men. Easy right?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x reader

Warning: very bad english, no proof-read. ENGLISH IS NOY MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES I’M SORRY.

I don’t even know what this is but I hope you like it

Masterchef! You had just passed the last selection and finally were going to cook in the Masterchef kitchen.

You didn’t really know what you were expecting when you send in your request to partecipate to the new season of Masterchef, the only thing you knew was that you loved cooking.

You had started cooking when you were really young: you were only eight when you helped your mom baking your dad’s birthday cake for the first time and you hadn’t stopped ever since.

It could seem strange for some people but, growing up in a farm, it was normal for anyone to help as much as they could: you had started with tidying up your room, you had learnt how to collect the eggs from the chicken goop first things in the morning, you had gone with your father to take care of the cows; but as soon as you and your family had found out how much you enjoyed spending your time in the kitchen, that had become your kingdom. You still helped with any other task if help was needed, but most of the time everyone left you do what you did best and what you loved the most: cooking.

So yeah.. you loved cooking: you cooked when you were happy, wou baked when you were stressed, you cooked when you were stuck in your own head, you went to the kitchen when you needed a moment to yourself knowing that very few people had the guts to follow you in your place in the house. 

Anyway the idea of participating at Masterchef first come out while the previous season of the show was on air: you were in the kicthen (surprise surprise!), you were preparing everything for that night gathering; your father was keeping you company while preparing a fruit salad (the only thing you had given him permission to touch, he had pretended to be fed up with your behavior but you both knew it was just for show). You were talking, the tv was on in the background when a new episode of Masterchef had began and your father had stopped answering your question.

“Dad?”- you had asked while still chopping the onions; there was so much to do in so little time you didn’t have time to pay attention to what your father was doing

“You are so much better than him”- your father hadn’t been making any sense

“What are you talking about?”- you had taken your attention from the onions to finally look at your father

“You should try and get on Masterchef”- your father had insisted still looking at the screen where Joe Bastianich was talking to a man in a black apron.

“You’re crazy”- you had simply said before getting back to your cooking. 

You hadn’t talked about it again that day, but the idea had lingered with you and even though you had kept your thoughts to yourself, your father knew you better than anyone else, so one day you had found the Masterchef application on your bed with a post on it 

‘I know you can do it honey- dad’- the post had said 

You had had a lot of fear: the fear of dissapoint your family, the fear of being on national television, the fear of leaving your family that needed your help at the farm every day, the fear of not suceeding, the fear of not being good enough,the fear of not pass even the first selection. Your father had come to your help once again “Honey the only way you could lose is if you didn’t even try. What’s the worst that could happen? that you don’t get in? Who cares? You will always be our favorite chef”

Your father’s words had been the push you needed, so you had send you application and when you had been called for the selection you had been excited.

You had survied the first couples eliminations and now you were going to be the captain of your team, the red team, in the first team challenge and you were scared shitless: not only you could go home if you made any mistakes, but the future in the competion of your team mates depended on you too, and as if that wasn’t enough you had to feed one- hundred army man. So yeah you were panicking and trying not to show it because you needed your team to trust you and to be calm enough to serve good food.

You took a deep breath and focused on what the judges Gordon Ramsay, Joe Bastianich and Aaron Sànchez were saying.

“Each  team will have to devise a menu that includes a protein, two vegetable and a sauce”- Joe said

“Now remeber, at the end of the day one of you will be eliminated and this will be last time he will be cooking in this competion”- Gordon’s words kept your anxiety spiriling but you tried to keep your focus- “All right, are you guys ready? let’s go”

You and your team sprinted as soon as Gordon had done talking. Once what you wanted to cook had been decided, you gave a task to each and everyone of your team mates and you all started cooking.

Managing between doing your own prep and making sure every team member was doing ok and didn’t need your help, wasn’t easy but you made it; the judges tasted your dish after half an hour and, aside from some suggestions to make it better, they liked it.

So you were on cloud nine: the judges liked the dish your team had devised, your prep had gone alright, your team was doing ok. But then service started and YOU PANICKED: you had to serve 100 army men and women and you had no idea how to prepare 100 dished that were perfect and that looked all the same. Your team was looking at you for direction but you had no idea what to do: you had never worked in a restaurat, none of you ever had, and when you cooked for your family gathering everyone made their own dishes, you were so out of your comfort zone. 

And that’s when things started to go even worse: service had started, the army men and women had arrived and had a very clear view of your stations, you had no idea how you wanted to plate the food and Gordon Ramsay came to you and he didn’t look happy.

“Red team come here, all of you, RIGHT NOW! We need a system, your tray is cold, the food is cold, I’m not letting you serve fucked up food. Take your food back in, warm it up, warm your tray. Y/n come here. YOU ARE THE TEAM CAPTAIN, SO FUCKING WAKE UP, DECIDE HOW YOU WANT YOUR FOOD ON THE PLATE AND START A PRODUCTION LINE. RIGHT FUCKING NOW Y/N”- Gordon pratically screamed in your face, you knew he just wanted to make sure the food that came out was perfect, he only wanted for you guys to succeed, but you had never liked when people screamed in your face even if you knew they didn’t mean any harm. Your eyes watered but you weren’t going to cry, you were going to do this, but when you thought things couldn’t go any worse..... you found out you were obviously very wrong.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”- a voice boomed behind Gordon and once you raised your gazed to see what was going on, you saw a mountain of a man, dressed in uniforme, coming towards you.

It was clear not even Gordon knew what was happening

“Can I help you, sir?”- Gordon asked, you couldn’t sure but his voice sounded a little bit unsure

“You wanna help me, why don’t you start by not screaming at a woman?”- the army-man’s voice was much calmer now but he wasn’t any less intimidating. Gordon didn’t know what to say and you knew it, so you took a step forward

“It’s really not a problem.. ehmm”- you read the name of the man on his uniform - “Captain Syverson, sir. Chef Gordon was just giving me a pep talk, everything is good. We will be serving you your food very soon”

As soon as you had started talking the man’s eyes had moved from Gordon to you and for the first time, since he had come over, you noticed how bautiful they really were. His eyes had become gentler when he had started looking at you, you had almost shivered when his attention had been on you and you only.

“Mhhm”- Captain Syverson said like he was still assessing the situation before deciding - “You can called me just Syverson”- he said before turning around and going back to his men.

You stood there for another second, all eyes were on you and you were sure your cheeks were burning

“Back to work guys”- you said. There was no way you weren’t sarving your best food to that hunk of a man.

Everything had gone smoothly after that, you had felt eyes on you some time during service but every time you had looked up you had never been able to pin point who was looking at you, so you had always gone back to work.

Once the judges had annouced your team had received 70 votes against the 30 of the other team and you had won you couldnt’ been happier, you had been sad for the contestant that had had to leave the show, but it was a competition and that was how it worked.

You were still celebrating with your team when you heard someone clearing their throath behind you

“Hello”- captain Syverson was behind you

“Oh Captain, hello”- what was happening?

“I thought I told you to call me Syverson, or Nathan if you prefer, but none on that Captain crap”- his raspy voice was doing things to you that shouldn’t be possible when you had just met the man.

“Right. Was everything ok with your food?”- you asked because why would he be here, if not because there had been something wrong with his food

“The food was amazing, you’re a fantastic cook, sugar”- he said and your cheeks burned once again at the name. What was this man doing to you

“Oh thank you, it was a team effort”

“Well you are the team captain, so I think you deserve some credit, sugar”- he said before looking back where a man was calling for him - “I need to go, but I really hope to see you again sugar”- he winked at you before leaving.

“uh”- you stood there staring at his back not sure of what had happened.

Everyone had joked about what happened between Gordon and the captain for the rest of the season, but you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the man that had screamed at Gordon Ramsay (GORDON- FUCKING- RAMSAY) for you.

The competition had gone on and without even knowing how you had arrived to the grand finale and to your surprise YOU HAD WON!

So yeah when you sent your application for Masterchef you didn’t know what you were expecting, but in the end it was clear you had left the show with so much more you had even though you could win.

liked by masterchefus, gordongram and 234,567 others

itsMeYN When I sent the application for Masterchef, because my father conviced me to, I never thought I would even passed the first selection, let alone win the finale. This journey has given me so much, I learnt from every single one of the other contestat, some of which have become really good friends. I don’t even know how to start thanking the judges, Gordon, Joe and Aaron, They have taught me so much and always known when I needed a nudge to wake up and start believe in myself. Thank you, thank you this competition has given me so much 

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yourmominsta I’m so proud of you honey 

jennifer So happy for you, I was rooting for you since the first episode

haley234 Congrats! can we please talk about the team challenge with the army man ;)

austin  Oh my god! that episode was the best, that army captain was totally hitting on her

felicity Does Captain Syverson have instagram? Please does anyone know?

austin I dont think so, I’ve been looking for him too

rachel  Guys I was watching her story the other day and I swear there was a very familiar scratchy voice in the backgroud

yourbestfriend Oh my god... @itsmeYn I think you got busted

itsmeYn @yourbestfriend shut up

haley234 wait what

liked by masterchefus, gordongram, yourbestfriend and 345,678 others

ItmeYn Had the pleasure to dine at @gordonndram restaurant, and wasn’t that an experience. Also I think the second meeting between Gordon and at certain someone went a lot better

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austin “Certain someone”... yep she is totally dating Captain Syverson. Is it normal being so obsessed with the idea of them together when I have only seen 5 min of them together on tv?

haley234 Same sis, same.... and maybe it’s not normal but who cares

gordongram We still yelled at each other so I wouldn’t say it went so much better

itsMeYn “We” is the key word here, you yelled at Sy too, i think it’s mostly out of love now 

austin Sy... I repeat she wrote Sy... My ship is real

Yeah Masterchef had given you so much…

Masterlist

All around taglist: @jwspiter​

Henry Cavill and characters taglist: @xxxkatxo​ @mansaaay @thorins-queen-of-erebor​ @maan24​ @grounded-in-light​ @omgkatinka​  @xprettyqueenx​ @marytudorbrandon

[georgiapeach30513]

Goldilocks & the Three Men, Part 3

Summary: it’s time for Sy

Pairings: Captain Syverson X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, fingering, size kink, dub con 🤔, drugging, breeding kink, cream pie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.2K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

Sy stands in the doorway of your makeshift room watching Ari pet all over your body. You had become completely blissed out, and he’s amazed that you even could handle him.

His large and thick stature walks into the room, and lifts up your hand watching it flop back on the bed. “How much of the fritter did you feed her?” he asks, looking up at Ari who just smiles down at your sleeping self.

“She ate the whole thing,” he finally looks up at his brother and chuckles. “Didn’t even notice a thing. She did so good.”

“The glamor didn’t fall at all?” Ari shakes his head no, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Didn’t suspect a thing?”

“The only time she did was when the runt was sitting there watching,” his eyes glare at his other brother who stands out in the hallway. “It was kinda creepy. I don’t mind you watching, just don’t make it be so obvious.”

“Did she suspect anything? Did she question who the man was?” Steve gives Ari a big toothy grin, because he knows the answer. “All she saw was a black bear.”

“Yeah, a tiny little one,” Ari gives Steve a playful shove, standing up to let you rest. “You gonna wake her up big guy?” he asks Sy.

The large man walks over to your body, and rubs his thumb along your wrist. Giving his two brothers a sly smirk. “I don’t know if that’s fair,” Steve gives him a little whine. He always has to be last.

“Gotta help her out. What was it she kept saying? ‘It’s too big, Ari,’. She needs all the help we can give her.”

“By the end of it, I had her screaming it was just right.”

“And still fucked her until she passed out,” Steve rolls his eyes at the older brothers. He would never do that. “You little creep, keep your mouth off this one. You have an urge you need to control. I like her. She’s up for the challenge of being stuffed to the brim.”

You stir awake. Stretching your muscles when you feel a deep emptiness. Disbelieving of what exactly is going on. Flashes of a moment in a pond with…that can’t be right.

But you feel without. You look around the room for…Ari, yes, his name is Ari only to find you’re alone. You can’t help but to stand and go search for the warm and kind man.

Wandering down the hallway you see a bed that looks just about right for you. Not to big, not too thick, not too soft, just perfect. “Nope,” a voice speaks behind your. You turn to see a new man, and back away slowly.

“Sorry,” he gives you a kind smile, and you stop. “It’s not time for you to go in there.”

“What?”

“Steve,” he holds a hand for you to take, and you shake it softly. “I think you’re looking for Sy,” you shake your head no. That wasn’t his name.

“Ari.”

“I’m sorry to say, he’s busy. As am I. There’s a treat for you on the table. Sy should be out back. He’s cutting some wood.”

You give him an odd look. Something isn’t right. “Why am I here?”

“We called, you came.”

“Can I not go home?” he frowns, shaking his head no. “Why?”

“Didn’t that old man warn you? Women get lost. They can’t find their way back. But we’ll keep you safe from the things out there. There’s men who try to steal your first born child, a beast who wants to keep you for his own, the fae, a wolf, and…”

“What are you then?” he hesitates. Now, no matter what he says, you won’t believe him.

“A friend.”

“That didn’t answer my question. What are you?”

“Different than my brothers. Go and eat your snack. Sy is waiting. He’s impatient. You don’t have much of a choice. Stay here, or get more lost out there. And what will you find?” he isn’t wrong. You know it.

Knew it the moment you fully walked into the woods, and there was no sight of the world outside. “Why?”

“It’s a long story, and it’ll cost you gold and your first child. You can always go find the beast. He’s the reason we’re all in on this mess. Go on. Go out into the woods alone. Maybe we’ll find you first. You should be grateful.”

“Why?”

He gives you a long look and sighs. “Curses abound all through the woods. Eat. Sy. He’ll take care of you.”

That is just what you’re scared of, but with one sound of a grunt, and hearing the swinging of an axe, you get a deep desire to find him. “Snack. Sy,” Steve reminds you one more time, before closing his bedroom door.

With nothing else to do, but listen to his words, you find yourself back in the kitchen, grabbing up the snack, before looking out the kitchen window. Taking a slow bite when you see, who are assuming is Sy, swing the axe down on the wood.

You’re not sure why but every chop, you feel at your core. Your knees going weak, and you take another bite of the bread, moaning at the ‘taste’ of it.

Thinking to yourself you wonder how he tastes. His corded muscles rippling with every swing he takes. Even the way he wipes at his forehead. Looking over to see you gawking at him. “Well, come on,” he sighs. Stopping his movements.

Carrying the bread with you, you go outside to see him in all his glory. Ari was tall, but Sy is thick. His skin glistens with the sweat, and it only makes him sexier. “Bring me that water bottle,” he tells you with a smirk. He knows just how attractive he is. Visions of the things he could do to you, with very little effort run through your mind.

Thoughts of those thick arms wrapping around your neck, or even just the way his body could manhandle you. “It doesn’t have to be just a fantasy, Goldie,” he gives you a quick wink taking a drink of the water.

“What?”

“Your eyes, they’re pitch black and filled with desire. Your blood is hot and pumping so hard, I can see your neck pulse. You struggling to stand, or are you squeezing your thighs together, trying to deny the primal need for me to sink into that tight. Hot. Wet. Cunt?”

You gulp, turning your eyes to look at the ground, and that thick body stalks closer to you. “We’re far out in the woods. No one will hear you when you scream,” he whispers on your neck. You shiver, and it only causes him to chuckle. Pressing the softest kiss on the pulse point on your neck. Giving it a tiny nibble, and he catches you when your knees go out.

“Why would I scream?”

“Why wouldn’t you? You think you could handle all this?” those thick arms wrap around your waist and your fingers trace the veins on the rock hard muscles. “You wanna find out? See if you can hold off on screaming my name?”

“Uh…this…”

“You’re home now,” he whispers behind your ear. Open mouth kisses move all along your neck, and down to your shoulders, making you even more weak with every pass over your skin.

“You can do whatever you want now. No one to judge you. No one to make comments. Just us.”

“And Ari and Steve.”

“What was it you told Ari? It was too big? Too hard? What do you think about me?” he thrusts his hips into your ass and you let out a measly whimper. Already succumbing to his roughness.

Whining when your hand rubs over his cock, “Sy it’s too thick.”

“You can take it. You’re gonna love it aren’t you?”

“Yes,” his hands already slide up your thighs, those thick digits going right to your mound. No one had bothered to give you panties, so he has easy access.

He stimulates your bundle of nerves, before sliding down, entering two fingers into your messy cunt. Palming your clit, while your ass moves on his crotch. “A tight fit indeed. Fuck!”

“Sy,” you become even weaker when he walks you over to the fallen log. Maneuvering you to your knees. Ripping off every bit of clothes you have, before leaning you over the tree. He gives your exposed cunt a look over before he’s shoving his fingers back in there.

His teeth nipping all along your shoulders and back. “My god, you’re a responsive one aren’t, ya?” he moans listening to your sweet intoxicating sounds. Pulling his fingers out he stares at your swollen lips. Gazing at how your juices make your skin shine.

Standing up he begins removing his own clothes, and he laughs when you turn around, looking at him. Whining when that thick cock bounces up. “Sy.”

“Can’t be cockdrunk already, Goldie,” getting to his knees he runs his length through your velvety folds. Mewling, you try and back your ass up on him, “Easy there, sweetheart. It’d be best if you let me take my time. Don’t worry, I’ll have you speechless shortly.”

He pushes his shaft through your puffy lips. Bringing the tip back at your tight channel. Slowly he breaks through your walls, and you yelp. Turning back to look at him, but his eyes stay only where the two of you connect.

He sinks slowly into you, biting on his bottom lip when he slides home. Holding his stance, and he grabs onto your hips. “It’ll go quite quickly after this. Look at you, such a mess for my cock. Does it sting? You hurting sweet girl?”

“A little.”

“I’m letting this pretty pussy adjust for a bit. She feels so good wrapped around me so tight. You took me so well. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” he pulls out a bit, and quickly stabs back in, and your eyes flutter close.

“You sure do make some pretty sounds. You gonna scream for me?” when you don’t respond, he starts rutting into you.

Your voice becoming louder with every jut into your silky walls. His fingers gripping tightly to your hips, and you know that there will be bruising.

Sore won’t even describe how you feel. “Sy, it’s too thick!”

“But you fucking take it so well,” he grunts out, turning back to look at an upstairs window with a cheeky grin.

That thick arm wraps around your neck, and he lifts your back to his front. Nearly growling in his motions, while you become a complete mess. “Found us a good one. Gonna be our sweet little cumdump aren’t ya? Have us dripping down your thighs. Your job will be to serve us.”

“Sy, please!”

“You want it. Our pussy has got me in a vice grip. Did that apple bread taste good?” he presses a hard kiss on your cheek, and chuckles when he sees you struggling to keep your eyes open.

“You’ll last longer eventually. You trust me?”

“Uh huh.”

“Thatta girl,” he growls on your skin before completely wrecking you. Shoving his veiny girth in you, like his life depended on it. Not even caring when you give out.

His thick spunk spurts deep into your cunt, and he pulls out. Gently laying your spent body over the tree.

Tilting his head to the side, he watches his cream drip out of you. “She lasted longer this time,” Ari says, giving your body a look over. “This one just might work. You think it’ll take?”

Steve takes a seat on the swing, and laughs, “We’re a dying breed man. It’s never worked before.”

“And when it doesn’t, you get to dispose of them,” Sy responds slowly getting dressed. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

“Maybe if you two weren’t so damn big, their bodies might have been able to handle it.”

“Maybe if you didn’t fucking ruin everything with your damn appetite,” Ari turns around glaring at the smallest brother. “She’s perfect.”

“You keeping her drugged on apples and she doesn’t even know what she signed up for. Nothing but a breeding tool.”

Sy cackles looking at him. Going to pick up your pliant body, holding you tight against his chest. “It’s fun. It gives us someone to protect. Brings joy and light to our home. Can you imagine our little cubs in the house? You saying you really don’t want a turn? She’s the one. I feel it.”

“I heard,” Steve says annoyed. “She had you in a fucking vice grip.”

“I’m going to give our little one a bath. Ari, you wanna join me? She would love waking up to see her Papa and Daddy. Pretty soon, we’ll be just right.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist:   @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @missacidburn928​

[doll-r-t]

The Lost Pearl Part 14

Syverson x reader

TW: non, Sy trying

Masterlist (can find all parts there)

(Pictures, You and Rosamund, the blue flowers Sy got you, Your dress, You and Ethos dancing, The books, all pics found on Pinteres, credit to owners)

Syverson realized as soon as he was back in Warhorse that Ocre was right and he had to have a better plan than just flowers. He went straight to his office walking up and down. He felt like he was walking a hole into the ground when his eyes caught something on one of his shelves. Of Course! How had he not seen it before, it was quite literally in front of him. He walked over to the shelve brushing his fingertips against the fragile binding of the book. He immediately turned around and walked out towards the storage. He was a man on a mission, blood was pumping his heart was racing in the most pleasant adrenaline-inducing way. His face was set, determined to achieve what he not only wanted but needed. 

He walked down the cold stone steps towards the cellar of Warhorse. He pushed open one door. His great uncle had stored the possession of his wife. She loved beautiful dresses and to the surprise of the people of the oral tradition, she was an avid reader. 

He searched trunk after trunk pulling out old smelly clothing, hoping that some books were still well enough to use. To his annoyance, the books were in the last trunk he could find. He was starting to sweat despite the cold underground. He pushed the trunk open looking inside, there were three stacks of books in there. He pulled them out and looked through them sadly most of them were destroyed due to the cold and wetness in the room. He brushed some dust off the ones that were still good. It was about five. Not much but it had to be enough. He had no idea what to do if it was not. 

He walked to his office as fast as he could. He needed more light to inspect them more. He instructed Gisla to put the flowers in water. He was just about to pass the Parlor when he stopped turning back to look at the door. He knew you and Cella were outside so he opened the door and took a look inside. This Parlor was usually given to the women of the household. In this case, it was still Cellas but once she was gone it would go to Rosamund but mostly it would be empty as Rosamund was not necessarily fond of the room. He turned about the room. A plan was forming in his head. It was spacious with a couch, table and chairs, fireplace, and space to host people. The walls were primarily bare but one with a tapestry hanging from it. He smiled to himself, yes this would work, he thought. A lightness settled in his chest that he had not felt since the fight between you. He spotted a trunk in the corner of the room, he went over and looked inside. He had to chuckle, the trunk was filled up to the hill with books. He shook his head at that. 

He moved on to his studies, it was getting dark and he did not have a lot of time to put his plan in motion. He looked at the books closely. Wondering if some of the rough edges could be preserved. He had no idea how to do it. Maybe some of the craftsmen could, although they had never restored a book they do work with leather and should be able to fix it. But there was no time for it now. The longer he waited the more he felt the cold shadow of indifference between you. So he left the book behind in his studies and walked outside. He went down into the town, walking along, past the many wood houses on the gravel path. He was searching the shops looking for the crafting woman. He spotted her sitting on a chair outside, a knife in hand and her long greying hair in a braid. She was fiddling with a piece of wood. “I apologize for my interruption crafting woman, Chae-Won.” The woman looked up, her eyes were dark, almost as dark as the ends of her still black hair. She had high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. “Captain.” She nodded in greeting. She got up pulling up another chair. “Some tea?”

Before he could answer she was off. Back rounded from long years being bent over wood, crafting, and building. While she got some tea he sat down looking at the piece of wood she had been working on. For him, the lines did not make a lot of sense but her carving seemed steadfast and confident. She came back out of her hut. He stood taking the cups from her and offered her his arm, helping her sit. She smiled, holding onto his arm. “What bring you here my Captain.” Straight to the point. She took a sip from the steaming water and he followed suit before answering. “I have some books up at the castle they are damaged. I was wondering if you know how to craft new leather bindings for them.” She thought about it for a moment. “I spent some time at the borderlands, there we had occasion to craft new leather armor for soldiers passing through. I will try. I cannot imagine it would be much more complicated than that.” Syverson sight in relief. “I also wondered if you could come up to Warhorse tomorrow and look at the Parlor. I would like to put up some shelves for books.” She hid her smile behind the teacup. “I will be there tomorrow after breakfast.” Syverson nodded drinking from his tea. “Is there any specific wood your lady has in mind?” Syverson started to cough, the tea running down the wrong pipe. “I am sorry?” “The Lady you are building the shelves for, her people like lighter wood than ours. I might have to search for a while to get some wood like that.” Syverson was adjusting himself in his seat. “Why do you think it is for her?” “Do not act bashful with me. I have no interest in your love life Captain. But I do care for my crafting.” Syverson looked at her, she had that twinkle in her eye that told him he had said more with his bashfulness than he had if he would have been straight with her. “I am not sure.” Syverson had not thought of the different kinds of woods and tastes. “It will do good to have more information by tomorrow. I will bring some suggestions with me.” He drank the rest of the tea. Thanked Chae-won and went up to the castle again. As usual, he had not thought things through. He would have to talk to you before he did anything. He wanted to do it now, rather than later. 

He walked to his study. The flowers were on his desk, in a beautifully painted vase. He had not seen this vase before but he did not care as long as everything looked beautiful he had no care. He took a couple of books and took out one of the green ribbons he usually bound his cloak with. It had fallen off his cloak and now it came in handy. He wrapped it around the books tying it with a bow. He looked at it satisfied. Taking one deep breath he walked with the flowers and book in hand to your room. He knocked at your door, with his foot. Just when he knocked he realized she should have put on a nicer shirt and combed his beard. He was so wild and unkempt in contrast to your people. He realized with embarrassment that he had mud on his shoes. Oh, I hope I do not have any on my face, he thought. 

Suddenly the door opened, there you were. Your hair tied back, a lovely light sea-green gown on. He had not been so close to you for a long time and he had to resist closing his eyes when the flowery smell of you wafted towards him. My, did you always smell this good? He could feel his heart speed up. He opened his mouth and closed it again. “My Captain.” You bowed slightly. He cleared him through. “Princess.” With this, he thrust the flowers into your hands. You were taken aback but stepped aside to let him in. 

Syverson stood in front of you, in your room. You had no idea what he was doing here. Confused and a bit shocked. He looked slightly uncomfortable and had not said more than one word. You let him have his space, waiting for him to speak. He looked around your room and when he finally looked at you again his cheeks were on fire. You thought him blushing was an endearing feature of a leader. “I apologize for interrupting you before dinner.” He wrung his hands. “I-, these are for you.” He pointed to the flowers in your hands. “Thank you.” You smiled unsure where he was going with this. You looked down at the flowers in your hands, setting them on your table. It was the same blue flowers he had plucked once when you were in the garden after saving Rosamund. They looked like blue little stars. “Would you like me to call for some wine?” “No.” The silence became uncomfortable but finally, after he rubbed over his head Syverson began to speak. You had sat down and he followed suit. “I wanted to talk about what happened. Well, not necessarily talk. But apologize. I am sorry for all the things I have said.” He went silent waiting for something. You remembered his words clearly, the pain opening like a wound in your heart. You nodded avoiding his eyes. “I let my anger get the better of me. I want you to know, nay I need you to know that I was not angry at you.” Your eyes looked at him questioningly. “I was angry at myself.” He leaned back into the chair, looking into the fire. “I hated that I was not able to feed my people and that someone from the Southern people did.” He looked at you apologetically. You nodded in understanding. “It was not my intention to make you feel this way. I just wanted to help,” you said. “I know.” He leaned forward his hand closer to yours as if he wanted to grab it but stopped himself. “And I never thanked you for it. You have done so much for my people, my family, and me. You did not deserve my treatment of you. I hope that, in time, you can forgive me.” You smiled slightly at him, not your full smile but it was a start and it made breathing easier. “I do have to apologize too. I should have told you that I was writing a letter to my father. And although it was just a letter, it was my intention for him to send food. I am sorry.” This time he did reach for your hand, giving it a small squeeze. His hand was warm and rough. You wanted to close your eyes and savor the warmth against your cold skin. “I would not do anything to intentionally hurt you, Cella or Rosamund,” you added. “I know that. I am sorry I hurt you.” He said softly, his eyes not leaving yours. He still held your hand. “Thank you for the flowers,” you whispered.

He abruptly rightened himself, clearing his throat. “I have something else for you.” He handed you a small stack of books. This time you could not suppress your full smile. Immediately you reached for it. “It is not much, but my great aunt liked to read. I am not sure how good they are, and they are a bit damaged,” he rambled on, rubbing the back of his head. He had this bashful look about him again and his cheeks were rosy underneath his beard. You wondered, not for the first time, how it felt. “It don’t matter.” You pressed them against your chest. “I hope you do not mind but I have someone come in tomorrow to look at them to see if they could be restored. She is a talented carver, her name is Chae-Won.” “That is very sweet but I don’t think it is necessary.” You hastily added. “Not that I do not believe that she is not talented but I think they are perfect as they are.” Syverson’s chest felt tight as if there was not enough air in the room, your lips had a soft smile, looking soft and more inviting than water after a battle. Your eyes had lost some of the coolness, you looked like you again. “Indeed perfect,” he whispered. One of his hands was reaching for yours again, softly stroking his thumb on the back of your hand. “I wanted to discuss another thing. The Parlor has some bare walls and I saw that your brother has brought you some books. I was thinking about putting up some shelves so you could display them and have a room for reading. If you do not wish we can also do it in your room.” You stopped his caress of your hand, grabbing it hard. “I would love to. I am keeping them in my trunks right now and it does not do them justice. They are so beautiful they should be displayed.” He had never seen you as open as when you talked about books. Maybe he should pick up one for himself and see what the fuss is about. He always preferred spoken stories but he should be open to new things. Although looking at the shine in your eyes he thought you should be in stories. “Chae-won will come with some options for wood tomorrow. You can choose whichever you want. And anything else you might want or need Just say the word.” You nodded. “Thank you.” With one hand you were still holding his hand and with the other, you were clutching the books against you. Throughout your talk, you both scootched closer and closer to each other. You could finally smell him again, the herbs, woods, horses, he smelled like freedom and strangely enough something like home. You were completely ensnared by the smell and were slowly leaning closer. 

“Y/N it is time for dinner soon-” Gisla came in but stopped abruptly when she saw Syverson in your room. You swiftly scootched back from him. As if you were a child caught with the hand in the cookie jar. “Thank you Gisla. I do need a wash-up before.” Syverson stood, clearing his head. “I shall leave you to it then.” Before he left, however, he picked up your hand pressing a small kiss on it. “I will see you there, Princess.” You felt your heart stop for a second and your breath halted. You could do naught but nod in agreement. Your hand felt light and tingly. He gave you one small smile and left. Gisla was looking at the ground trying to hide her smile. You still stood rooted to the spot. She left you to you and pulled out a gown. “I will bring you some water for washing.” She walked to the door. “I will put in some of your oils so you will smell extra good tonight.” She smirked at you, before leaving with a chuckle. You wanted to be outraged at her but you did not have the heart. As you did not mind putting in some scented oil. You walked over to your bed. Sitting down and unwrapping the books. You looked at them closely. There was a book about tales from the old world, a book about herbs and flowers, and some other stories. The last one caught your eye, it was a book about language and different regional accents. You opened it, to your surprise and delight there was a chapter about the woodland people. This one you would read first. Gisla came in and you began getting ready for dinner. 

You walked to the hall you felt like you were far too overdressed, your gown was different shades of blue and lilac. Layered over another flowing with every step. Gisla had insisted on it. She had also added a small necklace with a white shining stone and pearls for your hair, instead of the net. 

You walked into the hall passing tables of already eating and drinking people. Everyone was in a merry spirit and you let it infest you. You felt so much lighter, and you were more than hungry. You smiled at Cella who joined you, walking towards the high table. You laced your arm with hers. She shot you a confused look. But you did not see as Syverson was sitting at the high table watching you walk towards him. You smiled at him. 

You pulled the chair out for Cella and she sat down as you had instructed her. You nodded in approval. Your brother stood wanting to pull your chair out but before he could Syverson stepped in front of him reaching the chair before him. “I might as well practice my manners too.” You laughed lightly. “I fear I have to agree Captain. This must be the first time you ever pulled out my chair for me. Very poor form indeed.” You smirked, sitting down. You could feel the deep rumble of his chuckle go through you making you shiver. Ethos and Cella looked at you both with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Syverson and you paid them no mind. He sat down next to Ethos again but throughout the dinner, he sent you small smiles. 

Rosamund had come over to you and Cella and Syverson watched as you picked her up settling her on your lap. It tugged at his heart. When you first walked in he had thought that you were the most beautiful woman but seeing how you took care of little Rosamund, he had to go back on his statement. Now you were the most beautiful woman. He was glad that you were his friend again. And he hoped in time you would make your opinion known again. He would not admit it but he was dependent on it. You were smart and had much more knowledge about political matters than he had. Yet, there was one thing he had to do. Something did not sit right with him and he wanted to address it. But for now, he would enjoy the evening and the companions of his people, friends, and families. 

Once the ale was flowing freely, and the tables were cleaned he waved a servant over. He asked them to bring out some of the sweets they had baked this morning. It was the first time they had the resources to actually bake some sugar bread. It was soft sweet dough with some fruit in it. The servants promptly brought some. Before the people could dig in Syverson stood up. The hall went quiet. 

“My friends, my family. Before we eat sugar bread I would like to tell you a story. A story about someone extraordinary whose heart is brave and kind. For so long darkness, despair and suffering have plagued the people of the north, the people of the borderlands, and the people of the south. I have to admit I also was gripped by it. I was surrounded by paper, darkness settling over me, taking me with it more and more. Yet, one morning, when the morning light was still soft and the air still fresh from the night, I awoke. Awoke to something, something that could be so insignificant. A note. Made with a simple tool of a writing feather and ink. It was written, in soft curves and elegant flow, on my paper. It was so small I nearly missed it. If it were not for the light, I would have. All darkness that I carried in my heart felt like it left my heart, infused into the ink, and turned into hope.” 

The people were listening to every word and so did you, following the lines of his lips. You had a weird feeling in your chest between an ache and a flutter. “I never knew how strong words could be, how they could chase the darkness away and make you realize that no matter the hardship, light is always there you just have to look for it.” He turned to you, his eyes were so soft and blue. “Which reminds me of a story of a bear, his fell was disheveled, trotting slowly through a dark and cold forest, hardly any light, no food for him. This is when he came to a river and with his thick brown fur, he trotted towards it. An ache in his side made him slow, but he was stubborn. I will fight, I will protect, I will provide.” Syverson boomed in a deep voice. It caught your attention more, his face had changed displaying pain but determination.

“So the bear went into the water, he pawed, clawed, and roared. The coldness pulled him deeper into the water, his strength leaving him, his thick fur pulling him down. I cannot give up,” Syverson roared in that deep voice again. “I cannot give up,” He said a bit more desperately. “He dragged himself through the water still pawing, clawing, roaring. Trying to catch fish. He did not see the silver feathered owl landing on the rock just off the side of the river. Its eyes were watchful. And with just one look it had figured out that the bear was about to drown.” Syverson looked at you again, his voice had turned soft almost reminiscent. “Slowly the owl rightened itself, extending its wings suddenly it looked double his side, strong, powerful. It soared high into the sky, letting the wind do all the work, using the ability to oversee the river from high up. It observed the bear for a second more and flew a bit further. Suddenly it swooped down, disrupting the surface of the water. Once it soared up again it had a fish in its claws. It let out a hoot, catching the attention of the bear. The bear had thought he had never seen such elegance and beauty. Yet, he roared out in anger, trying to claw at the owl. How dare it mocks him, did it not see that he was trying to catch a fish too? Before the bear could claw at the owl again it let go of the fish and it landed. To the bear's surprise. Right in his mouth.”

Rosamund giggled at that and you joined in. “Stubborn bear,” you whispered to her. Syverson had heard it. “Yes, a stubborn bear he was.” He grinned at you.

“But not for long. Once his stomach was filled with the fish he realized that the owl was not mocking him. It was trying to help him. So it dragged itself out of the water and laid down. The owl swooped down, landing next to the bear, burring its head underneath the bear's snout, its face in the fur. The bear lifted his paw and covered the owl more. Soon the sun would be high and shining and the owl was seeking a dark spot to sleep. The thick fur of the bear provided the perfect spot. They slept, one day and one night, and one day again. The bear was healing, and the owl was resting. Once they awoke the bear found that the pain in his side was gone and to his happiness, the owl was still there. It blinked slowly, with its observing eyes, shaking its shining silver feathers. It looked at the bear once before soaring up into the sky again. The bear road out, but this time not in anger but in desperation. The owl had become his companion and he wished for it to stay. But the owl was not moving far, it crashed down into the water again catching a fish once more. This time it had caught a big and a small one and together they ate at the side of the river. The bear dangling its feet into the river and the owl sitting crossed-legged. Looking up into the sky the bear did not mind the darkness, as if it were not for it he would not see the beautiful stary night.” Syverson finished off.

He grabbed the first sugar bread and walked down to the table. He stopped right in front of you. Cella quickly took Rosamund from you. You did not even notice your focus on Syverson. “And as the bear was hopeful again. So was I. On that day the sun had risen shining a light on the note on my paper.” You knew exactly what he was talking about. Your heart was beating so fast but you could not look away from him his words and eyes capturing. “A note that helped my people and opened my heart. For the strong woman who wrote it my people and I owe much to. As she was the one that made the trade that provided my people with food possible. Princess Y/N Commander of the Pearl, daughter of the moon, and from now on, a sister of the Woodland people the Owl of the South, strong and smart.” He bowed to you. “You will always have a home here.”

He handed you the sugar bread. Your hand was shaking. And your voice failed you. You knew that the first bite of a meal was reserved for the leader. And you knew how significant it was that he was granting you the first bite. You stood up shaking, you broke the sugar bread in two putting the other piece into his hand. Without looking at the people, that had gasped at the Captain's gesture, you bit into the bread. The sweetness almost overwhelmed your senses. But you were not sure if the tingling came from the sugar rush or from the look on Syverson’s face. The people were cheering your name. “Hail Princess Y/N Commander, Daughter of the Moon, Sister of our kin, Owl of the South.” After you took a bite Syverson followed suit. Smiling that even now you would share what you had. He did not tear his eyes from yours as you had done. Yet, he hummed at the taste of sugar in his mouth. The people erupted in cheers, digging into their own bread, and some started to play on fiddles. Rosamund pulled you on your skirt dragging you away from Syverson and to the people who started dancing. You both spun around. You were laughing, twirling, and spinning faster and faster. You had not done this since before the war. You danced song after song, finally you were so out of breath that you hugged her to you and went off to drink some wine. She was far younger than you and had much more stamina. But it gave you great joy seeing her big smile. You took your rest at the side, talking with some people. A hand landed on your back making you flinch but when you turned around your brother Ethos was standing there. “Common sister.” He took your hand leading you to the dance floor. You started to dance one of the more traditional southern ones. Ethos was holding up his hands in front of his body, chest high. You followed suit, your hands were not touching. Once the music set in he took a step forward and you took one back, it was a chase. It was to symbolize the push and pull of the water. It got quicker and quicker. Stepping forth and back, without touching. The footwork was simple back forth, side step, side step. But the hand movement was intricate. Showing the difference in waves. Sometimes you both would lift your arms high, slowly dropping them down in a cross-movement towards your chest. You both had not realized that the music had started to mimic your movements. The people around you stopped dancing watching you. Your gown was flowing as if it was water. Once the final notes played you went into your original position but this time your hands touched. Your brother had a small smile on his face. You two had not danced like this for so long. He leaned towards you kissing your forehead. “I am proud of you sister, my commander, my high Princess,” he whispered. Then he walked off into the crowd. The people around you started to dance again as you teared up at your brother’s acknowledgment of your accomplishments.

Chapter 15

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@tumblnewby @irishprincess89 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @sofiebstar @omgkatinka @enchantedbytomandhenry @snowbellexx @daddys-littlewhitegirl @pjkimrn @zealoushound, @lunedelorientelorient​, @tragicphoenix13​, @alexa-fangirl-forever​, @vhjlucky13​ @bourbonwithice

[cardierreh15]

It’s the way @peternoonewantsthat got me in my feelings over that mf fic with Captain Sy bro. This the shit I be talking about 🥺 yall eat it up every time. Like — I can’t … I just can’t rn. Now I’m over here hugging my husband and crying

[switchbladedreamz]

Screams

Requested?: sorta

Summary: just filth. Sequal to Silence. Captain Syverson x Reader x Sergeant Harper

Warnings: smut. P in v, p in a, cursing, dumbification if you squint, slight rank pulling, threesome, spanking, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral both male and female recieving, a facial.

It's been two. fucking. months. Two months! And I've had to dodge the snickering, smirking, winks, from the men in my unit. And Syverson has been ignoring me since. As if he wasn't the one who not only instigated but also didn't even speak the entire time. I would think it was a dream if it wasnt for the looks I got. Some men even try to get with me.

Today was a shitty day. Almost all my ponytail holders broke or are missing. "You know you can be discharged for insubordination." Harper teases. "Yeah well they "forgot my feminine supplies" so I shouldn't be. I cant help that my hair bands are either broke or gone. And I already tried zip ties and that did not work.". He huffs a quick laugh then leads me through to the conference room. "You and I and a mutual friend of ours need to have a serious talk.". "What are you talking about? I dont think I've done anything and I follow my orders unlike some of the others here.". I fight back but it falls on deaf ears

My body tenses as I walk through the door and see Captain Syverson sitting at the desk. He opened one of the drawers and pulled a pack of hair bands out. "For tomorrow. You sure look nice with your hair down sweet pea." He grins like a wolf after cornering its prey, ready to devour.

Sy gets up out of his chair and comes to stand in front me. His intimidating physique swallowing my frame. I feel my hair being moved away, I turn my head and see Harper's hands. Soft lips meet with the warm flesh against my neck. Then Sy is kissing the other side of my neck. I sighed and rested my head on Harper's shoulders'. "You okay with this darlin'? You wanna take us both this time?" Sy whispered, peppering more kisses along my throat. Sergeant Harper's hands slipped under my gray 'ARMY' shirt. He unclasped my bra and I pulled the straps through my sleeves and finally off. A whimper fell from my mouth as he lightly pinched and pulled at my nipples. His large hands covering each breast. Sy's hands pushed Harper's away and he played with my breasts. Harper yanked down my pants then panties. I pushed Sy away to take off my boots and strip completely. The two men swiftly followed. "Fuck your body is beautiful" Harper whispered. Both men's eyes blown black with lust.

The men followed in stripping. Harper turned me to face him and kissed me. Soft and slow. Sy sucks and nibbles on my shoulders, leaving hickeys. With Sy's hands on my hips he slowly drags me backwards. Harper's hand on the back of my head so I can't break the kiss. I'm lifted in my captain's lap, his throbbing cock against my back. Sy plants each leg of mine over his thigh, spreading me open. Harper trails his kissing down my body. Kneeling in front of me, he licks broad stripes against my soaking pussy. His tongue flicks up and down, side to side on my clit. Zigzagging against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Before I have the chance to moan Syverson shoves two fingers in my mouth. My moans become muffled by the intrusion. His tongue enters me, twisting, lapping. He hums, the vibrations drive me crazy. Satisfied with how wet his fingers are, Sy pulls them out slowly. "Lean forward a bit sugar". Harper stands up and kisses me and holds me, one hand goes down and he slowly pushes a finger inside me. I feel Sy's fingers circling around my other hole, his finger slipping in gently.

"I'm gonna cum" I whimper, they just chuckle and remove their fingers. "Noooo" I whine but they ignore me. "Don't worry darlin' we got somethin better for ya than just our fingers". Sy grabs me under my knees, holding me close to him. They gently push in at the same time. "Look at me" Harper demands. "We're going to fucking ruin you. Split you at the seams, and you're going to take every fucking second of it.". His harsh words send chills down my spine and goosebumps across my flesh. Inch by slow tantalizing inch, whispered praises and promises among my flesh. In and out, steady and gently. "Faster, please". "Are you sure sugar? We don't want to hurt you, any time you need us to stop. You understand?". I cant see it but I feel the softness rolling off of Sy. Much different than a couple months ago. "Yes, I understand. But please, faster". "Well you heard the gal. We'll make you feel good little bunny". Harper ends his sentence with thrusting fast into me already. My head falls back against Sy's shoulder. He starts pounding fast and faster in my tight ass.

My pussy clenches around the thick cock hammering into me. The ridge from his tip, the under vein, I can feel it all and its glorious. My screams grow louder and louder. "I've never been so full before. Please don't stop, I'm gonna fucking cum". I cry out. "You're gonna cum? We've barely fucked you and your dumb little brain thinks it's okay to release yet? That's why you're a private. Fucking hold it." Harper grunts out. His hand slaps my breasts and cry out again. "Please. Please let me cum.". I beg again. "I said. Hold it.". He fights back again. "Let's change positions". Sy quips up then starts to pull out slowly. Now empty I'm set back on my feet, then bent over the desk. "Take her mouth" Sy orders Harper. Harper shoots him a look of defiance. "Do it or leave. That's why you're just a Sergeant. And I'm a Captain.". He smirks. I smile and my heart swells a little for the gruff man. I open my mouth and stick out my tongue. Harper smirks then pushes his cock down my throat, my nose touching his waist. I swirl my tongue around and bob my head, sucking. My hand cups his balls and massages. Syverson slaps my ass then enters the hole once again. He spanks my ass again. And again. And again. In this new position his thrusts become relentless. Reveling in the way his balls slap my cunt. "Cum for us." Harper grunts and pulls himself out of my mouth. My body tenses as I squeal. Sy thrusting slower, gently carrying me through the orgasm. He flips me on my back, stroking his cock. He cums on my breasts, harper doing the same above me, his cum leaking on to my face.