Syverson X Reader - Tumblr Posts

stepdad!Sy x Reader: don't blame me (love made me crazy) [One Shot]

Plot: sometimes what an old bear needs is a young little Goldilocks.

or, your mom can't keep up with his appetite, so he found himself another outlet in the form of his spoiled little stepdaughter.

Tags: stepdad/stepdaughter relationships, (big) age-gaps (y/n is 19 when anything happens Sy is 40+), spoiled!reader, naive!reader, manipulation, ceo!sy (implied, y/n's mom works for him), arguments, birth control, toxic relationships, daddy kink, dd/lg-ish (?), infidelity, sy and reader are bad people, heavy smut, implied p to v, oral sex, unrealistic dick size, body fluids, power imbalance misogynistic views, taboo relationships

Sy knew of his … issue.

It was the biggest reason why it took him a bit too long to settle down.

His libido wore down his most passionate lovers and drowned his faithless girlfriends in crazed jealousy. So he figured he should just get as many women as he could and keep himself satisfied without the mess of a crashing relationship in his wake.

However, every bachelor has to die at some point or another. And his death came just after his 40th birthday, where he met a proper woman who had worked in one of the branches of his company in the city.

She was a bit cold but quite smart, one could call her distant but not to the point of being irresponsible of her relationships, just very picky. Sy had found it easy to converse with her and the little challenge that she posed when she refused to sleep with him on their first, second, or the third date. It made her less of another piece of ass to plunder but more of a land to conquer and make his own.

And so that’s what he did.

Because Logan Syverson always gets what he wants.

She was definitely the perfect woman that could be the neat little bow that would end his reign of pleasure.

And all should’ve been well.

Until it all came crashing down when he met her feisty little daughter that made every little knot of his facade of satiation unravel.

Sy side-eyed the noise inside the kitchen of his home from his garage.

Disturbing the resting birds and the quiet of the horses on the barn on the other side of the estate. He was glad at the very least he had bought a gated house with extra land all around to avoid any snooping neighbours from knowing any of their personal issues but that also means he gets to deal with all their shit alone.

From what he could gather his stepdaughter and her mother are fighting about another party she plans to attend tonight when she had gotten home at 3 am every day for the past 3 days. It had been understandable, the first few parties, it was to be the end of her senior year, after all, and all the kids her age are trying to milk the last moments of their feckless golden years before they are thrust in a shitty one-bedroom apartment, juggling their part-time jobs and academic responsibilities.

Not that he’d let that happen to his beloved stepdaughter who would clearly buckle at the smallest weight on her shoulders. Her penthouse in the city is already cleaned and ready for when he surprises her with it.

The door to the veranda opened with a clatter, small and urgent steps breaking through the quiet morning.

“Don’t you dare --”

“Daddy!”

That’s his cue.

Throwing his wrench on the table, he grabbed the damp towel hanging off his latest project -- a monstrosity of a truck he was planning on building back up -- and wiping as much of his sweat as he could as he walked out of his cabin to greet the storm coming his way.

Sy tried to suppress his groan at seeing you run towards him, his stepdaughter seemingly unaware that your tits were nearly bouncing out of your camisole.

You landed with a huff into his hard chest, pouting and wrapping your little arms around his waist, refusing to look back at your frustrated mother in your trail even if some of his sweat moistened your face.

“You a'right, honey?”

“Mom is being a bitch!”

“That’s it, young lady! You are ground --”

“Alright, alright,” he raised a hand to your mother to cut off her rant, his other rubbing your back as you tighten your grip around him. “Woman, calm down.”

“No, I don’t need to calm down! You need to stop codling that little brat!”

If there was one person that could blow the fuse of your usually composed mother it would be her daughter who was the exact opposite of her.

Where she was prim and proper she was all short flowy short skirts and see-through tops. Where her mother was shrewd and sharp, her daughter was dull but sweet. And where she liked to stand on her own feet her daughter liked to run to her daddy for any bump in her path.

Despite him getting married to your mother when you were already 18, you had barely had any father figure in your life that you had immediately latched on to him who was basically a stranger. Especially when he spoiled you with shopping trips, shiny pieces of jewellery, and a black card with your name on it just because he wanted to be in your good graces.

He was sure your mother had found it endearing at first, to see her boyfriend getting along so well with his daughter but now, a year into the marriage, a year of losing every argument with her daughter as she clung on to the man of the house, and a year of Sy giving you whatever you want while slowly edging away on your mother's control of you -- it has lost its novelty.

“I’ll take care of it,” he tried to remove your hands to talk to your mother properly but you refused to budge whimpering a little ‘daddy’, so placing you behind his back where your mother couldn’t see you while your arms remained knotted on his stomach was the best thing he could do. “I know you have that important meeting with your supervisor. You can’t be late.”

The woman gritted her teeth, eyes dropping down on your hands wrapped around each other into a fist before sighing, “You need to tighten her leash, Sy.”

"I said," Sy steeled his glare, “I’ll take care of it.”

The one thing about your mother despite her stance of independence and belief in women dominance is that she had somehow managed to marry the one man who couldn’t give her that illusion. In this family, your stepfather’s words were law. You have gladly learned about that early enough and abused it to your advantage.

So if you get his approval to get the shopping trips she said you didn’t need, pieces of jewellery she deemed you should earn, or the black card that was a bit “too much” -- then you will get it.

And if he says you can go to the party at Brandon’s on a school night, then you can go to Brandon’s fucking party on a fucking school night.

“Alright, honeybee, she ain’t here now.”

The nickname had stuck when you got stung by a bee on one of your first visits to Sy’s home when your dumbass tried to steal honey dripping from its hive because you were curious what fresh ones tasted like.

This time you let your arms be removed from their grip, facing the man though still not having it in yourself to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you stop torturing your ma, hmm? Look at ‘cha, got my sweat all over your face,” he grunted, wiping your face with his own towel while you closed your eyes and let yourself be pampered by his gentle touch.

You pursed your lips, fluttering your lashes hoping he’ll let your little early tantrum slip but he tutted, pressing his thumb and pointer fingers on each edge of your lips until he had you on a forcible pout and finally looking up at his eyes.

“You can’t get everything you want with these lips, honey,” he chuckled, shaking your head playfully, making you giggle.

“‘T works on you,” you quipped, though a bit muffled from his grip.

A semblance of a growl rumbled on his chest making your breath hitch.

“It does, doesn’t it,” he commented almost thoughtlessly, fingers now running on your bottom lip and gently pinching it. “You better find a husband as nice as your daddy then.”

You blinked up at him, warmth beating on your chest until you felt like your heart would explode. Seemingly done with torturing you, Sy pushed himself back up, giving you enough space to actually breathe.

“Am I … am I not allowed to go to the party, daddy?” you looked down on your feet, one rubbing on the other as you tried to make your case to the only judge that matters. “I did so good on my last exams. I didn’t fail a single one.”

Yeah but you had barely passed any of it, he thought. Even failed in your first try and that's why you had to retake your senior year.

Sy knew you were probably sitting next to some poor nerd that gave you all his answers just to have a chance to ogle at your bouncing tits.

His eyes dropped to the mounds the cut of your top exposed for him, cursing his train of thoughts.

Playing dirty, you gently pulled away from his grip to press your body on his, snaking your hand on his neck until your face was buried on his neck.

He sighed, looking around him to make sure there were no prying eyes before cupping your bottom with one arm and guiding your legs to wrap around his waist as he carried you back to the patio to sit on one of the overpriced sofas your mom had shipped all the way from some fancy boutique in New York.

He knew he shouldn’t let his young stepdaughter cling to him like this, especially when all she was wearing is her flimsy sleepwear. The inappropriate intimacy was probably from some sort of misplaced fondness and adoration to him who had been the first man in your life to give you some form of affection. And he also knows that you knew that your relationship with your stepfather was bordering on being improper, as you usually only act like this when it was just the two of you alone.

But as long as none of you calls it out, everything can remain as it is.

With him boiling with his frustrations and you happily getting the affections you craved from your doting stepfather.

He sat down and grunted, surprised when instead of moving away and sitting next to him as you usually do to cuddle, you instead adjust into a more comfortable position in his lap to straddle him, little fingers reaching up to play with his beard.

You must really want to go to that party.

“Why’d you wanna go to that boy’s part so bad? He your boyfriend?” he pried, pleased when you shook your head vehemently.

“No, daddy! I’m … no I don’t do that,” you whispered the last part as you broke eye contact and played with the collar of his flannel instead.

His eyebrows quirked, is she actually a virgin?

“I-I’m not … I already did it but I don’t any more! The boys in my school are not cute. They aren’t my type, they’re icky,” she stuttered adorably, desperately trying to convince him that she wasn’t slutting herself out in the parties she attended to. “I just want to hang out with my girls, daddy, I promise. And one of my best friends Alia is Brandon’s girlfriend so that’s why we’re going. It's going to be sooooo fun.”

Sy hummed, trying to process her words and not pop a boner at the same time when her tiny pussy was literally on top of his monstrous crotch, the white cotton of her panties barely able to hold the heat inside it, especially with the way she subtly bounces on her seat every time she speaks.

He knew she wouldn’t lie to him, to her mother sure but not to the man who always pulled her out of the shit she always found herself in.

“One condition.”

Her head popped, a grin immediately growing on her face as she squealed and peppered his bearded face with kisses he gladly accepted with a pleased hum.

“Yes! Anything you want!”

He chuckled, gripping your waist to pull you closer into his body, till your core was dragged to his lower stomach making you gasp. The man could swear he could smell her.

“You’re spending your weekend with me and your ma.”

Sy laughed at the face you pulled, hand rubbing on your waist to somehow convince you to say yes despite knowing you had no say about his decision in the first place.

He likes giving you an illusion of a choice, it’s how he keeps his leash on you as tight as possible without letting you or your mother know.

“Deals a deal, honeybee,” he grinned, “We can hang out on the pool, I can get the chef to make you that chocolate cupcake you liked.”

You played with the edge of his flannel, letting his words convince you that spending a day or two with your increasingly frustrating mother should be tolerable enough as long as he was there.

“Okay, daddy,” you relented, leaning down into his chest and laying your head down on the crook of his neck. “But you gotta stay with me all day. You gotta.”

He silently agreed, god knows how easy arguments would blow up when he left the two of you alone.

“I promise, honey,” Sy hummed in agreement, not planning to let you leave his sight on that weekend in the first place, “I’d never leave my good girl alone.”

You jumped at the sound of a door slamming shut on the second floor, the window by the sink shaking from the impact.

You just came out of the pool to get yourself a lemonade in the kitchen after your daddy and mom went upstairs and left you alone for a bit to talk about something while in the middle of trying to spend together as a family.

“D-Daddy?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not some fucking sex maniac like you!” your mom’s familiar sharp voice screamed, two pairs of loud footsteps thud down the stairs making you instinctively hide behind the kitchen island, sitting on the kitchen’s cold hardwood floor as you listened to their argument. ”I have a job, Sy! A demanding job, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you popped the fucking question.”

“It’s been a fucking week! Taking care of your husband not an important of a job enough for you?! You're needed here too!”

You frowned. A week? A week of what?

It seemed serious when it got your daddy this riled up.

“I can’t just drop down to my knees and suck your dick when you feel like it, Sy! You know how important this job is for me!”

This time you gasped, the crude words coming out of your mother’s mouth you only heard from your friends who went on sexcapades, never from your cold matriarch.

But even you frowned at her excuse. She might be all smart and stuff but sometimes she gets pretty silly especially when she puts her husband second. If you were the one married to daddy ...

“More important than your husband?”

You could feel everything turn cold the moment he uttered those words. You could only imagine the scene behind you as you weren’t brave enough to take a peek.

“I don’t have time for this.”

Then you heard the front door slam, her car turning on and screeching away.

You yelped when suddenly, a glass shattered on the opposite side of the island, surprising you as you were deep in thought of the argument that you had just accidentally overheard.

“Honey?”

You were caught.

"Sweetheart, come out."

You slowly popped your head out from behind the island, meekly smiling at your still fuming stepfather. His chest still rising and falling with every intense breath.

“H-Hi, daddy,” you muttered, trying to put on a smile on your face but you knew you weren’t getting out of this. “I wasn’t snooping on purpose I swear I was just going to get a drink and then …”

“Oh honey,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, seemingly calming down now as he carefully walked towards you. It was only when he was near that you realized you were still only in the itsy bitsy bikini that you wore with the purpose of getting tanned. But that didn’t seem to bother him, especially when he grabbed you by the back of your thighs, forcing you to instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his thick waist to make you sit on the counter with the only barrier between your bare skins were his shirt and swimming shorts. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

You pouted, looking on the ground on the opposite side of your hiding place to see pieces of glass scattered around it.

“I-I’m sorry, daddy.”

Sy frowned in confusion, running a thumb on your cheeks to soothe you, “about what, sweetheart?”

You hesitated, looking up at him through your lashes,” For mom being mean. I always get in fights with her and that’s why … that’s why she can’t take care of you anymore. I promise I’ll behave from now on, daddy --”

“Hey, none of that now, little girl,” he tutted, pressing two soft kisses on your cheeks and tearing up eye. “It’s not your fault. Mommy and I are just … going through a rough patch, a’right?”

“B-But …” you sighed, giving up when he gave you that glare that always told you to drop it. You nodded, hugging him tighter to bury your face in the comforting crook of his neck. “If only I was married to daddy I would…”

“Would what?”

Sy pulled you back, one hand tightening on the dip of your waist and the other one snaking back up to squeeze on your cheeks to force you to look at him. His rough fingers indenting on your face and forcing your lips into a pout.

You could feel yourself losing your breath at the slip of your tongue. Looking at him now, gone was your daddy who always had the warm gaze on his eyes. He looked crazed, like a beast. You could almost imagine the smoke coming out of his nose at his every breath.

“I --”

“You would what, honey?”

He could see you starting to get skittish, eyes already unfocused and finding other things on the background to stare at but he’d spent time with you long enough to know all he needs to do is press harder on your cheeks, a bit of drool dripping on to one corner of your mouth to his fingers, to make you look back up at him with the ditzy glaze in your widening irises.

“Say it, don’t play dumb with me.”

You whined at his harsh words, eyes suddenly widening when you felt something warm and big and pulsing on your core.

“D-Dadwy,” you stared at the growing bulge that was poorly masked by his brown swim shorts.

“Say it.”

Sy can see you struggling to focus, especially with his sizeable bulge dragging all your attention. But he didn’t care.

Cause he’s had enough.

Enough with the torture from both of you women in his life.

Enough of your cold mother who demeans him and his needs. Who always places him in second place, a place he had never been in his entire life. Enough of pretending that his life was perfect -- wrapped around in a neat little bow.

And he’s had enough of you -- of you and your short skirts, and pink panties that you somehow always managed to innocently flash him as you tip-toed your cute ass in his home. Enough of you clinging to him, sweetly calling him daddy as you rub up against him, slowly chipping away his self-control. Enough of the teasing and testing, thinking he wouldn’t have the guts to do something about you.

You whimpered under his intense gaze, despite being dopey 80% of the time you knew in your guts the next words that will come out of your mouth will change your life.

But he was glad to see a form of determination in your eyes

“I’d take care of you, daddy.”

Snap.

That was all it took and that was all he heard.

The snap of the last thread of his patience that held his sanity together.

And in a snap, his lips were suddenly on yours, the meat of his tongue exploring your wet, warm mouth as he drank your drool and moans into the caverns of his, sucking on your tongue just for the taste of it. With a grunt he lifted your ass off the counter, carrying you into the creamy white suede coral loveseat your mom treated like her second child.

“Ah!” you flinched when your mini triangle top suddenly fell off your chest, exposing your tingling nipples into your stepfather’s warm ministrations. Your back arched, supported only by his wide palms as he chased your bud, not giving you a moment's respite from his lips.

"I'm gonna warn you, sweetheart," he pinched on your nipples harshly till it pounded from the sudden onslaught of pain and pleasure, making you scream harder as tears start to form in your eyes. "Daddy's not gonna be nice."

“Daddy, I need -- I need --”

“Yeah? Your little pussy is getting hot isn’t she?” he mocked, eyes ablaze as if he was a beast that lost its mind, "getting hot and wet for her daddy."

You didn’t bother to protect your dignity, especially with the way you were continuing to hump his covered meat despite his mocking insults.

Suddenly, his grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to halt your actions as he ran a palm from your tits, down to your stomach, and finally a finger drawing a line on the soaking slit of your bikini.

“Impatient little cunt.”

“Daddy!”

His fingers expertly hooked the scrap of clothing that covered your core, exposing your drooling pussy for his eyes as he wasted no time and shoved two of his hefty fingers with a lewd squelch.

If your memory serves you right, you could swear it was almost as big as the cock that your ex-boyfriend devirginized you with.

The thought blown away when he started scissoring his fingers inside you, hitting the spongy little spot that had you keeling over in pleasure, your toes painfully curling as your mouth found purchase in his, fingers gently gripping on the rough beard on his cheeks to seek for some sort of ground.

“I’m ready, daddy. Please, please, please. Need more.”

He seemed to think otherwise but just stared down at you with a knowing smirk. He'd teach his dumb little baby a lesson.

“Alright, honey.”

Gently, he pulled on the strings on your final piece of clothing, making your eyes widen when he suddenly grabbed it pressed it on his nose, closing his eyes as he sniffed deeply, making your face burn in embarrassment when you saw just how you soaked through your bottoms.

“Next time, you’re sitting on my face.”

Next time.

You nodded giddily, leaning in to press a soft passionate kiss on his lips as you reached to remove his shirt, exposing the furs that littered the defined skin on his body. You found yourself staring intently at his chest, hands digging in as if to make sure he was really a man and not just all steel.

Suddenly, you felt your skin sting as he slapped the edge of your thighs, making you look up at him in tears. The indentation of his wedding rang making a clear mark on the meat of your thighs.

"Don't tease me, little girl. Today ain't about you. Your mom thinks she can just keep her pussy away from me?"" he chuckled cruelly, wondering if she would lose her mind if she walked into them right now: her young bouncy daughter desperately grinding her cunt on her husband. ", guess she didn't realize she ain't all that special. That i'd have another young willing pussy right here, didn't she?"

You could only nod, hands already desperately untying the knot in his shorts to grab the heavy meat that you had been desperate to be acquainted of -- gasping in shock when you realized it had almost been the size of your wrist, his bushy base making it look even more monstrous.

“D-Daddy …”

“Hmm,” he licked that moistened your temple, making you giggle. Weirdly aroused at being soaked off his scent -- his sweat sticking into your skin, his saliva drying on your face, his precum rubbing on the length of your stomach.

“I … I’m not sure if …” you looked up at him, eyes widening when he saw the disappointment in his face. “But I’ll do my best, daddy!”

His mouth cracked into a small smile, one of his hands patting you in the head like he always does when you get a C in your exams.

It makes your chest warm.

You’d do almost anything to make your daddy proud.

“Good girl.”

“It’s okay, honey. I was out of line,” Sy stood up from his marital bed, comforting his now emotional wife through the phone when she called him after a day of silence. “You can come home whenever you like.”

“I’ll drive now. I’m really sorry. I love you,” she sniffed. Sy could almost see her, whispering in the crowded cafe of the hotel she always runs away to every time they had a fight.

12 hours too late, Sy thought, eyes straying back to his stepdaughter in what was once their bed. Face down, drooling on her mother's pillow and ass up for her stepfather's viewing pleasure, twitching and whining from overstimulation as her cunt leaked of his cum from the pounding it received for the past half a day.

"Daddy," she wiggled her ass weakly, making Sy hum as he walked back to grip on the meat of her cheeks, his free thumb pushing to the side the lip of her raw and gaping pussy he had used for hours before pressing a gentle kiss on the other rosebud he plans to explore before his wife could come back home. ", more, please. I love you. Need more."

"Alright," he answered, both to your desperate pleas and your mother's proclamations. “I love you too.”

Sy was the perfect father, she knows.

It was one of the reasons she had agreed to marry him in the first place.

A bit too much, yes, but his heart was always in the right place.

“Ahhh! I love you so much, daddy!”

She watched as her daughter jumped into her stepfather’s arms. Pressing kisses on his face making her frown, unaware that her husband has bought her her dream car as a gift for her 20th birthday. She thought they agreed your condominium in the city would be a good enough gift.

“Can I test drive it? Please? Pretty please?”

Her frown deepened when you didn’t even give your own mother a glance, giddying up instead to him who was more than happy to pass on your shiny new keys.

“Alright, but I get to be your first passenger, honey.”

She shrieked happily, grabbing onto his hands as she dragged him up to the pearl white car that still had the massive pink bow on top of it.

She’s never felt more of a stranger in her own family.

She should feel horrible, to feel jealousy as the two of you disappeared into the corner of the driveway when Sy was only being a doting father.

She shook her head, refusing to let her habit of thinking the worst out of people away.

Maybe it’s time she eases up on her job and actually starts spending time with her family.

Maybe Sy was right.

She was needed here, after all.

“T-That’s it, honey,” Sy groaned, leaning back on the passenger seat as her tongue lapped a thick line from the base of his swelling balls into the weeping head of his cock. “God, you’ve gotten good at this.”

It would be impossible not to, not the way you’ve nearly had his cum for breakfast daily since your first tryst with your stepfather a few months ago. It would seem a little taste of his spunk had you addicted for more, tongue nearly hanging off every time the front door slam shuts as your mom leaves to start her day unaware that in less than two minutes her own husband will be choking her daughter with his cock.

It was almost like you were made for him -- your holes getting carved perfectly into the shape of his dick, your sex drive nearly keeping up with his own.

The two of you had gotten reckless with time.

His cock buried in your nearly insatiable cushy cunt, every time the two of you would be left alone.

His hand muffling your cries when he slipped into your ensuite bathroom to have his cock buried while you were supposed to be showering and getting ready for school, making out by the pool while your mother takes a short nap on the second floor with the perfect view to the backyard where her husband was eating her daughter's face, or even warming his cock as you kneeled by his feet in the floor of his office, your hips desperately grinding on his leather shoes as you drooled all over his balls while his clueless wife works on her own in the room next door.

For the first time in his life, Logan Syverson felt satisfied.

Satiated.

Dopey, and always in a good mood, all thanks to his perfect little fuckdoll that just lived to please him.

With a lewd pop, you smiled up at your daddy, rubbing your bottom lip on the slit of his cock, seeming unable to resist licking up the small dribble of precum that painted it.

“Thank you so much for the car, daddy. I know mom didn't want you to give me one,” you pouted at the thought, irrationally angry at your mom for preventing your daddy from spoiling you.

Sy scoffed, grabbing a handful of your hair as he pulled you a bit to press a kiss on your cheeks. “I’m the man of the house, little one. As long as you make daddy real happy, you’re getting whatever you want.”

You giggled, pressing a quick kiss on what you could reach on his arm that was holding you up, “Do I make you happy, daddy?”

Sy’s face seemed to soften, smiling down at you but his actions betrayed him as he slowly lowered you back down to face his angry-red cock.

“Not till you make me cum, honey.”

Your mom raised an eyebrow at what you were wearing.

Your sundress was so sheer she could almost see the indentations your bra made on your skin but before he could call you out on it Sy followed you down the stairs, chuckling at a silly joke you seemed to have said upstairs as he held your hands firmly in his.

She never made Sy laugh like that anymore.

“Hi, mom! Congrats on your promotion, you excited?”

She tried to smile at her daughter, gladly accepting the kiss on her cheeks as she sat down on what used to be her seat on the right side of the head of the table where Sy usually sat.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She didn’t have the heart to tell her the nasty rumours flying around how she only got the position on the other side of the state because of her husband who owned the company she was working on in the first place.

Or worse, that the reason she got the promotion in the first place was that her husband had gotten sick of her and is sending her far, far away from him.

She doubt Sy had to do anything to do with it, the man never really caring about her department in the first place, but it still stung every time she gets side-eyed by her coworkers. Or her own husband proves them right by downright ignoring her presence in their home.

‘“It’ll be so weird to not have mom here in the house, isn't it, daddy?”

“Don’t talk when your mouth is full, honey,” Sy tutted, grabbing the towel on his lap to wipe the edge of her mouth where a smear of the sauce tainted her skin.

She felt needles in her heart when Sy, once again, ignored the inquiry about her.

Didn't he care at all?

“It’s just for 6 months,” she tried to insert herself in the little bubble the other members of her family seemed to have found themselves in. “I’m sure it’ll pass by quickly.”

This time she didn't miss the way her daughter snickered, shaking her head and looking at her husband as if disagreeing with her like she and her stepfather had an inside joke that just went over her mother's head.

“Well, I sure hope it does, mom.”

“What’s the meaning of this, Sy?”

Sy groaned, sitting straighter on his seat. He should’ve known his wife -- well, future ex-wife, would never make it easy for any of them.

Thankfully, his stepdaughter was sprawled out in his office mahogany table, only in her pink crotchless babydoll lingerie and legs wide open to comfort him in these trying times.

“You didn’t sign a prenup so the money I’m giving you is just me being nice,” he answered, nonchalantly tracing her drooling cunt with the pad of his thumb. Grinning when her hips uncontrollably flinched, chasing his touch as if he hadn't given her her fill an hour ago -- he couldn't help but crack the smallest hint of a smile at the traces of his cum still staining the inside of her pussy lips.

Boy, was he glad he had gotten that birth control implanted in you.

“I don’t fucking care about the money! I didn’t know we had that much problem to be getting a divorce in the first place!”

She was getting hysterical now, the most emotions Sy had heard from her in the short three years of marriage they shared. He popped his moist finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of her juices.

“Sign it,” he glared, his voice turning cold that even her ditzy stepdaughter shivered. “You know you won’t win against me.”

“Sy, wha -- where is this coming from?”

He sighed, taking a drag on his tobacco and blowing it on his stepdaughter’s cunt, smiling down at her as she giggled. Placing the stick back on the glass ashtray you had bought for him (with the credit card that went straight into his bank account, but it's his little one's thought that counted).

“Sy?”

“I’m busy with a lil' something,” even he chuckled at his little joke, pinching on the irresistible little clit just calling for his attention. “My lawyer will be in contact. Don’t call me again.”

Sy could barely hear her sobs standing up to unbuckle his belt with one hand as he hovered over your frame. “Wanna talk to mommy, honey?”

He would’ve felt bad -- should’ve felt bad at the sudden silence on the other side of the line.

But he's never felt more alive.

“Mommy?”

You haven’t called her that in a long, long while. Knowing now what she thinks she knows, her suspicions, her gut-feeling mocking her for ignoring them when the evidence was all around her -- it makes her stomach drop.

The silent conversations, the giggles, the inside jokes, the subtle bordering on inappropriate touches, the world the two of you had enclosed yourselves into that she could never seem to cross.

She had been betrayed by her own blood.

“I think daddy will be getting full custody.”

I'VE NEVER SEEN A STEPDADDY SY AND DECIDED IT'S UP TO ME THE SELF PROCLAIMED #1 SY WHORE TO FIX THAT DON;T COME FOR ME I HAVE DADDY ISSUES

- tia <3

Daddy’s Princess Fairy

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

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

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

Library blog of works: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, please use library)

@pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25

See you all again very soon xoxo

- Fae

Daddy’s Princess Fairy

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

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

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

Library blog of works: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, please use library)

@pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25

See you all again very soon xoxo

- Fae

Sy x Reader: make me your future history (One Shot)

Plot: You come back home and find everything you looked for in a quiet man who curses too much and his grumpy animals.

Tags: smut, fluff, cursing, my poor attempt of southern accent, mental health issues, eating disorder (implied), short fake dating, 9k+ words, minors dni

[A/N: AAAAAH I hope you like it <3]

“Home sweet home, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at your father’s attempt at being funny.

In all the time you spent running away from your past you had never thought the time would come that you would be coming back home. The image of you in your blood black bodycon dress, white trench coat, and Louboutins would be comical to anyone who passes by your humble childhood home -- complete with the vegetable garden, pesky bees, and cat shit from the grumpy fucker your late mother used to call a pet.

“Lovely.”

“Oh, don’t be such a snob, pumpkin.”

“Dad!” you shrieked, looking behind you as if on instinct, terrified of the judgemental eyes of your peers at the absurd nickname your father used to call you when you were young. But the only thing that greeted you was the emptiness of the sidewalk, the distant mountains, and a lost sheep wandering around your fields.

You were definitely no longer in Los Angeles.

“Come on, now,” he called, carrying the last of your luggage up the short dirt path towards the front door. “Let’s get you cleaned up out of that ominous dress.”

You gawked, looking down at yourself as if to check if the two of you were seeing the same thousand dollar designer dress. But when you looked up your father was already chuckling, clearly just teasing.

“For your information, this is Vera Wang!”

“You look like that mean lady Cruella!” he screamed at his back, laughter getting louder by the second as you stomped your heel behind him.

“Better hide, Stanley,” he rubbed the head of the feline, pressing a kiss at the top of its head. “She might skin you for your fur.”

“Dad!”

“Hiss!”

“Shit!”

You kicked the pebble that made you trip, cursing out this poor town and their seeming ignorance of cemented roads. Your father had woken up with a bit of pain in his back and unfortunately, it would seem he had run out of painkillers so you had agreed to run a quick trip to the town and get some medicine for him in the pharmacy after nearly breaking your back yourself while doing his chores for the morning by feeding all the animals and cooking meals for the both of you.

It’s been a while but you managed. However, you still weren’t quite sure if it’s comforting how you still somehow knew your way ‘round the little farm. You thought for sure you had killed the little country girl in you as you bathed in the limelight of the big city.

“God this place hasn’t changed.”

The brick buildings used to intimidate you. The young farm-girl who knew nothing of the glitz and glamour of the city, that could only come to the main town when it was her birthday and she manages to drag her mother to buy her dresses and lipstick. It’s times like this that you miss her a bit more than usual.

You had wanted to buy your father a house in the town, even one in Los Angeles and be near you and better doctors. But he had declined. He planned to take care of the home he and your mother had built from the ground up. So you did the best you could and just made sure his bank account remained hefty, even got him that model of the truck he liked so much to make his trip to the town and back easier.

Unfortunately for you, you can’t drive a manual car to save your life. You had been whisked off by modelling scouts before your father could teach you and by the time you were settled in your own apartment, you had been successful enough in your career to afford an automatic.

“Hi, I called about an hour ago for some painkillers?”

The young lady behind the counter seemed to have recognized you (probably from the many magazines you posed for), the guppy wide-eyed look is always a dead giveaway but you hoped she wouldn’t make a big fess out of it. “Yes! Yes, I’ll get it right now, miss!”

“Aah! Looks like that old bastard’s pumpkin has come back.”

You looked behind the girl at the counter to see your father’s old friend coming out from the back room. Despite his whooping cough and weakening lungs, it would seem Mr. Jones could never kill that dangerous habit of his.

“Good afternoon, sir,” you greeted, letting yourself be wrapped in the smell of tobacco and coffee as he hugged you. You weren’t too fond of the nosy people in this town but Mr. Jones had been an old family friend, and like a second father to you. “It’s good to see you doing well.”

“Well, can’t have your pops beat me. We had a bet.”

You smiled, “That’s quite a bright way of keeping your strength up, Mr. Jones.”

He guffawed, rubbing your shoulders as he took the medicine in the pharmacist's hand and gave it to you. “You can say that --”

“Old man!”

The door slammed, the bell above it ringing so loudly but it was the booming voice that had made everyone in the small space jump. Mr. Jones only groaned in annoyance, nose flaring up. Pushing the paper bag in your hand he raised his cane, pointing it accusingly to the person who just went inside.

“Goddamnit Sy! How many times do I gotta tell you to learn how to open doors gently!”

The loud man’s entire body was hidden by the racks of goodies to pick up -- magazines, chips, and the likes. His face was barely visible by the shadow his cowboy hat set on it, the rest of it hidden behind his unkempt bushy beard. He has grown, but the years seemed to have been kind. A little rough maybe … but still kind.

“Layla needs the vitamins I asked for last week. Pregnancy is making that one act like a real ass.”

“Watch your language, we have a lady in here!” Mr. Jones pointed at you with his cane, making your eyes widen when the hulking man turned to you. He was huffing, chest moving up and down, nearly bursting its top buttons from the stretch. Sweat making the skin on his folded up sleeves sheen and small bits of dirt and dust sticking in his cheek. Yet his steel gaze still shot an arrow in your heart like you weren’t the confident model you had built yourself up to be. Time turning and turning until you were nothing more but a lovestruck freshman drooling over the senior.

Logan Syverson.

“H-Hi Syverson,” you raised a hand, but in your panic, you forgot to wave, hands freezing mid-air.

His eyes lingered, raking down your form that you had silently cursed yourself for not getting done up before you left the house. You just had to meet Syverson now of all days!

“Miss,” he tipped his hat, smiling at you. Though you doubt it would be considered one as he barely lifted his lips at all. “How’s your father?”

“H-He, uh,” you realized your hand was still raised and awkwardly scratched your head. “He’s fine.”

“And you?”

You realized he had asked you a follow-up question a few seconds too late. “I’m fine.”

This time he smiled a bit bigger, a firm line spreading across his face and making crinkles in his eyes that was definitely not back there before in your high school appear. “That’s good.”

Someone behind the two of you scoffed.

“That’s good?! This is why you ain’t never been married, son.”

Sy rolled his eyes, sighing, flawlessly catching the bag of presumable vitamins he came in the store for “I told you to stay out my business, old man.”

“What, so I want adorable children, running around here, calling me pops and not old man? Is that a crime?”

He laughed, a real guffaw. Removing his hat to point it at the old man. “You’re not making me your stud, Stan.”

“Bah!”

“And get off that damn tobacco! That shit’s gonna kill you someday!”

He came out, the same way he came in: like an eye of the storm. The store was suddenly a bit too quiet now that his unforgiving presence was gone. The type of storm that steals your breath away, traps you in and fool you into thinking it was calm, just to see something wild and dangerous brewing on the horizon.

God, he was still so fucking hot.

“Thank you, Stan! I’ll send dad your best wishes!”

You waved at the man goodbye, holding on to the paper bag tightly. And you were glad you did so when you turned to the road and saw Syverson leaning on his truck and looking at you, you didn’t drop the package to the ground.

“S-Sy!”

He moved with surprising agility and grace for a man his size, so quick you would’ve missed him if you blinked but his heavy footsteps made you audibly swallow the pooling saliva in your mouth lest you choke on it.

“Took you a while to get out,” he took one last inhale on the same camel cigarette he had scolded Mr Jones for using, throwing it down on the ground to step on it with his heavy boots.

Your eyes widened, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe at his close proximity, “I … I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were -- did you need anything?”

You have been interviewed by pushy friends and intimidating bosses but nothing had made you sweat more than how his steely gaze does. Or maybe it could just be the summer heat.

“No,” he gently opened his palm, cocking his head at the package in your hand. Despite your confusion, you gave it to him and followed mindlessly as he went and opened the door to the passenger seat. “But I couldn’t leave a lady like you walking in this heat. My ma would crawl out of her grave, bless her soul.”

“Oh! Oh no, i-i’m fine …” your voice wavered as he raised an eyebrow at you, tossing the bag of medicines and vitamins in the leather seat of the massive truck.

“I’ll help you up.”

He gave no more room for argument, letting you walk to the monstrosity that was his truck and guided you with a firm palm on your back as you hoisted yourself up on the seat.

“Nice ride,” you smiled, tinkling on the little intricacies it had despite the thin layer of dust that polluted it. You gripped on a dog wearing a hula skirt and strumming a guitar hung from the rearview mirror, entertained at the thought of such a comical object on such a serious man’s truck. “Is this the latest model?”

He nodded, still the same man with the few words. In the year you were able to observe him from afar he had always been a bit different than the rambunctious boys he called his friends that always gathered at whichever table he sat on. Always minding his own business, always has his head down or playing with a football to pass the time if not taking a nap in the tits of whichever girl he was with.

You pouted, racking your head with any conversation starters.

“I bought my dad the one before, he never shut up about it.”

“Ah”, he quipped, now focusing on the road back to your house. Staring at him, you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together. He had always been so … big … and intimidating when he was still young. But with the addition of the minute scars on his arms (from farmwork no doubt) and the growing beard -- he looked almost savage now.

This little crush of yours is gonna be the death of you.

He turned his eye towards you, trying to hide a smirk on his lips when you yelped and turned away, face burning in embarrassment.

“How’d you know where I live?”

“Small town, bug,” he shrugged turning the last block till you saw your house. Your heart fluttered at the nickname “And I visit your pa from time to time. Just to check up on everything.”

You were sure your heart has now turned into mush.

“Ah! Syverson!”

Your father waved, walking towards the gate to greet the man with a welcome hug. “You been taking care of my pumpkin, eh? She give you any headaches?”

“Dad!”

“It’s no problem, sir,” Sy opened your door, offering a hand to help you get down. “She was pleasant company.”

Not as pleasant, you think. When he had barely uttered more than two-sentence in the entire five-minute ride. You had thought it was your chance to get to know him better but no dice.

“Hmm,” your father nodded, staring at the two of you back and forth. “You still got no wife --”

“Alright! That’s it! You’re going back inside, you senile old man!”

You waved back at Syverson, nearly dragging your father back to the house so he could rest before he embarrasses you any further. It wasn’t until he was back in his room that you realized how you didn’t even properly say goodbye or thank you to the man. You had run towards the door, foolishly hoping you would catch him somehow.

But the dust had already settled, his tracks already fading.

The sound of barking was the first thing you heard, followed by small thuds that were only explained when you finally found the source of it: a sweaty Syverson chopping off firewood that was the size of his arm.

You gulped audibly when he slammed one last wood, splitting it like butter.

“Who’s there?”

You straightened, surprised when he suddenly turned in your direction when you were sure you didn’t make a single noise. Awkwardly, you waved at him with one hand while the other carried the blueberry cheesecake you made for him, hoping he’ll see you meant no harm. Not that you could scratch him even with all of your strength.

“H-Hi! Sorry for barging into you like this. I tried to call but … uh …”

Sy looked back at his house and winced.

Yeah, he didn’t seem like a man who carried his phone with him all day. With how rough taking care of his farm must become, a fragile piece of technology would be no match for the hooves of the giant horses he raised.

You tried to maintain your wavering smile as he dropped the axe on a larger stomp before using his shirt to wipe his sweaty face making it rise up and give you a peek of the thick happy trail that made you go frigid.

Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look dow --

“Sorry bout that. Your pops need help with anything?”

“Oh no! I just, I made this,” you raised the cake to his face, hoping it covered the embarrassment in your face. Or the way your eyes raked over his burly figure that is threatening to burst out the seams of his checkered shirt.

“For me?”

He seemed confused.

You nodded, still looking down, though grateful when he took the platter as your hands were already starting to shake from the effort. “A-As thanks. I … I wasn’t able to thank you properly a few days ago for the ride. My dad has a tendency of embarrassing me and I didn’t want him to make you uncomfortable. But I didn’t know what you liked so I just thought it might help with the heat and --”

“Woah, calm down, honey,” You hadn’t even realized you were rambling. But you stopped in your tracks when you heard him call you that. You had to bite your tongue so you wouldn’t scream.

HE CALLED YOU HONEY.

“It’s alright. I like blueberries.”

AND HE LIKES BLUEBERRIES.

You nodded, like an eager student, mentally taking note of such facts.

“That’s … that’s great!” you giggled, placing your hands behind your back before you realized how lovestruck you looked and quickly placed it in front of you, fingers wrapping around each other. “I’ll leave you to enjoy it then!”

Like a cowardly squirrel, you were too quick to almost scurry out of there. Hoping to get some fresh air into your brain and make you act right once again.

“Wanna join me?”

God, being anywhere near Sy is dangerous. It makes your head short-circuit and make you do and say stupid things. Now you’re even having auditory hallucinations of him inviting you to --

“Wait -- really?”

This time he truly smiled, the charming type that had you internally squealing like a lovestruck fool, but you were pretty sure you were still hallucinating.

“Come on, have a slice with me. I’m pretty sure I didn’t leave the best first impression. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a dick or anything.”

Oh, you’ve definitely been thinking bout his dick, alright.

You pinched your eyes shut, batting away those unsightly intrusive thoughts with a theoretical bat.

“Oh no! That’s for you, Sy. I wouldn’t want to --”

“You wouldn’t,” he insisted, offering his hand up to you. You bit the inside of your cheek before you took it, letting out a shuddering breath as its warmth engulfed you.

Thinking he was just gonna hold your hand, you gasped in shock when he suddenly pulled you closer and placed his hand on the end of your spine instead. Urging you on the small hill where his house laid and making you go insane from the warmth oozing out from him and piercing through your clothing.

Why is he so freaking warm?!

“I --” your words got stuck in your throat when you realized he was hunching down to hear you speak, your face suddenly a bit too close to breathe. “I just wanted you to enjoy it. After all that you did for my dad when I wasn’t around.”

Your father had talked your ear off about how helpful the burly man was around his small farm, especially when it comes to any form of heavy lifting or complicated machinery. He even checked up on him a few times a month just to see if there was anything that needed to be fixed around the house.

He hummed, accepting your gratitude “I’d enjoy it more with a pretty lady, doncha think?”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but giggle. Accidentally nudging him with your shoulders as you walked but it only made him chuckle.

“I’ll get some drinks.” he pulled the seat in front of his porch, even spreading a dark blue blanket on your seat.

Not wanting to invade his privacy by snooping through the inside of his cosy-looking home through the windows, you instead enjoyed the company of his dog, who had gently nudged your leg with her wet nose, dropping her squeaky ball in your hand clearly wanting you to throw it.

“Go catch!”

You laughed as you watched her scamper down the steps of the hell in neck-breaking speed, immediately getting distracted by a flock of birds that were bothering the horses on the other side of the farm.

Breathing in the fresh air, you couldn’t help but appreciate the view in front of you. The bright sun and the fresh rain from the night before made everything look sparkling. The wildlife, the sound of the running horses, and the warm breeze of the wind made you smile. You may not be in Los Angeles anymore, but you probably wouldn’t trade this view for the world.

It was no wonder the man has become a hermit, you would be too if you had a paradise like this at your front porch.

The clack of two glasses filled with ice brought your attention back to him, perking up and watching as he sat opposite you. He poured the milk in both your glasses before sliding the fuller one to you.

He whistled in appreciation when he finally removed the handkerchief that covered the blueberry cheesecake you had woken up at 5 am for just to get the freshest batch first.

"Here, let me," you offered, taking the knife from him and focusing on giving the two of you equal slices.

“This shit’s gonna make me lose my figure.”

His foul mouth made you chuckle.

“Well, I like my men big,” you answered mindlessly, knife freezing mid-air when you finally realized what you said.

Before you could sputter out another roll of apologies he grinned, stabbing his own slice of the cheesecake and almost salaciously placing the entire thing in one bite. The excess cream on the side of his lips made you lick your own.

“Well, in that case,” he pulled the fork from his mouth, that irritatingly tempting smirk still present in his face, as he pierced another hefty slice and placed it back on his clean plate. “I better eat up.”

A tense silence followed suit as the two of you stared, though he was still so cockily munching on his piece making you break the eye contact first.

“Charmer,” you grinned, breaking the eye contact before you burn from inside out.

It was surprisingly comfortable to sit in silence with him. The white noise of nature doing enough of a good job to fill in what should’ve been awkward moments. It wasn’t until that you had finished your piece and he had bulldozed at least half the cake that you met his eye again.

“Thanks for this,” he rubbed his scruff. “It was good. You’re a good baker.”

“It’s no problem, Sy --”

You jumped at the sudden cracking noise in the distance. The neighs of the horse at the faucet which supplied all their water breaking made Sy sigh. “Goddamnit -- Layla! I told you to stop fucking around with that!”

Layla, the pregnant mare in question, scoffed in an offence like she hadn’t been caught red-handed.

“I’m sorry, I gotta fix that before it floods into the barn.”

“It’s alright! I’ll just clean up a bit.”

He stopped on his track to look back at you.”You sure? I’ll owe you one.”

“It’s no problem, Sy!” you shoo-ed him off. “I’ll wait for --”

“Great! Thank you, honey. Just go inside, you’ll easily find the kitchen.”

Honey.

You hoped you stopped your flattered grin quick enough that he didn’t see it. However, before you could think too much of it you realized … you were supposed to go into his house!

You let out a breath of air, hyping yourself up while trying not to look over-eager to go inside his house and look like an obsessive freak. The wooden door opened with a gentle push, which you were thankful for as you balanced the leftover cake in one hand and the plates and cups in the other.

Hurriedly, you walked towards the open kitchen, placing the cake in the surprisingly massive fridge filled to the brim with fruits and necessities before placing the plates in the sink, refusing to let your eyes wander no matter how much your brain begged you to.

Thankfully, the front of the sink had a window that showed you an amazing view of Sy’s backyard that was perfectly maintained and filled with vegetables. A giggle pushed through your lips as you imagined Sy’s massive hands trying to gently tend to the fragile plants.

“What’s funny?”

“Ah!” you jumped at the sudden voice behind you, greeted by Sy behind you, leaning on the kitchen island with his arms crossed and a brow raised.

“Uh, nothing,” you stammered, placing the last glass on the drier. “I-I like your garden.”

He cocked his head as if to see what was so interesting about it but he said nothing.

You surprisingly got used to his silence. “It must taste so good to eat something unprocessed.”

“Yeah,” he answered, sitting beside you near the sink. “You should try it.”

“I can cook but it’s tough waking up so early to get the freshest batch in the market,” you rambled. “And LA’s fresh produce is so expensive.”

“Aren’t you some big-shot model?”

You flushed, wondering if he meant that as a compliment or a diss. It was still quite embarrassing every time someone reminds you of your different persona in the city.

“I don’t eat that much there anyway.”

The expression on his face told you that your statement seemed to bother him which made you uncomfortable. The slip-up was an inside joke with your peers back in LA but it would seem dark humour was not as acceptable back here. “All right! I won’t impose any more than I did. Thank you so much for inviting me, Sy! It was nice to catch up with you.”

You waved quickly, turning on your feet and running away.

“Stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, as you walked back to your house.

It was going so good!

You just had to yap your mouth away and bring down the entire conversation to hell’s ass.

Shaking your head, you sighed. Nothing can be done about it now. You’d rather cherish the small happy moments you spent with the brooding man than focus on the depressing end.

Sy’s vegetable garden had made a stronger craving fester inside you than you thought.

That’s how you found yourself a week later, waking up before the sun rose and walking back to the farmer’s market in the middle of the town despite your body fighting you every step of the way.

There were surprisingly fewer people present, but it was still crowded enough to have that comforting noise all around. A warm feeling festering in your stomach as you hopped from one stall to another trying to put together a meal in your head.

“Sy! I didn’t expect to see you here!”

A woman’s voice made you look back, eyes widening when you saw her latching on to Syverson’s arms.

“Riva,” his gruff voice cut through the other noises of the crowd, making you snicker when you traced the slightest bit of poorly-covered irritation in his tone.

“It’s been so long since we hung out! Are the horses better company than me?” she teased. There was a nagging feeling of jealousy in your chest but watching as an outsider made you cringe. You could still remember being in her shoes, desperately buttering up to the most eligible bachelor, hoping it would elevate your status a bit more in your social circles.

Maybe that’s why you feel sympathetic.

“Honey.”

When you looked back up the couple are strangely looking in your direction. Just to be sure you turned to see if there was something interesting behind you but there was nothing but nagging vendors and shopping townsfolk.

“I thought I was picking you up at your house?”

You gasped when you felt a warm hand wrap around your waist, only to be greeted with the piercing blue eyes of Sy himself.

“S-Sy,” you were too stunned at first but thankfully the pieces still snapped together when you saw the gaping mouths of the crowd of girls behind you. “I … I felt like going for a walk.”

You eyed the group behind you, wincing at their suspicious glares towards you. It would seem you would have to up your game if you want to be believable. “And I wanted to surprise you, bear!”

He seemed tickled at the new nickname, leaning down to wrap you in a loose hug, his beard making a jolt journey to your legs.

“Well, consider me pleasantly so,” Your head wanted to explode from embarrassment. Even more when he suddenly leaned in to graze his lips at your forehead. “Let me carry that for you.”

Looking back, you tried to wave goodbye to the woman, hoping to salvage her pride but she just rolled her eyes which made you pout.

“Don’t mind her,” he gruffed, rubbing his thumb on the edge of your spine as if to comfort you.

When you were farther away from the unpleasant crowd you turned to his nonchalant face. “I don’t remember you being this jumpy from the ladies, bear.”

He smirked, leading you carefully to a vegetable stall and suddenly placing all sorts of products in your tote bag. “Lot can change in a few years, bug.”

You rolled your eyes, frowning when you realized what he was oding “why are you putting stuff in my bag.”

“Cause you’re having a meal with me.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting enough that he was able to pull you into another stall, this one with different types of homemade wines sold by a pleasant-looking lady.

“What can I offer you, young lovebirds?” she asked, eager to rope another set of customers into her pocket.

Sy turned to you, a gleam in his eyes that you haven’t seen before suddenly present, “Wha’d you say, honey? Red or white?”

The drive to his place was surprisingly comfortable, the two of you making pleasant small talk and laughing at you as you tried to sing to old country songs that were playing randomly on radios while he prepared the promised meal to you like a proper housewife.

Though he just smirked when you called him that.

“You haven’t changed, Sy,” you chuckled, hooking your hair behind your ear like a giddy schoolgirl. The wine and full stomach had made you tipsy enough to make your tongue loose. “I can’t believe I forgot how dangerous you were.”

His chest rumbled then, finishing the last mouthful of wine in his glass before laughing at your accusation,” ‘m a Southern gentleman, ma'am. I don’t know what’s all this talk about being dangerous.”

Your mouth dropped, not believing his audacity to deny all the girls who have tripped over their own tails chasing him all around the campus. “Oh please,” you point your fork at him in an accusatory manner, “don’t think lil’ old me didn’t hear about Charmaine and Analeah’s fight over you being their prom date!”

He shrugged, not bothering to defend himself. Instead, he started to clean up the table and walked towards the sink. You followed suit and sat at the counter just beside the sink as he turned the radio louder, the familiar voice of a certain country starlet that had joined the social scene of LA at the same time as you echoing in his cabin.(You couldn’t help but wonder if her transition into the pop genre had been as smoothed as she had planned.)

“Who did you go with, by the way? I wasn’t able to see cause freshmen were the committee so I was running around backstage.”

“I didn’t go,” he placed the last plate on the sink before he walked to where you were seated. Making you hold your breath as he placed his arms on each side of your legs, effectively caging you on the counter.

You gasped. “What?! Why?!”

So, that was the reason he didn’t win prom king. You had even ignored your responsibilities for a few seconds hoping to peek a glance at him on the stage.

“Didn’t get a date.”

“That’s impossible.”

“One might say,” he chuckled, this time leaning in closer till you swear you could feel his every breath, “but the date I wanted was a bit too busy running around backstage.”

Your jaw dropped in shock, taken off guard at such words. The wine had made you a bit more loopy, which is why you couldn’t hold back your laugh at his teasing.

“You fucking charmer!”

His deep laughter made your stomach tumble and fall, but despite trying to playfully push him away he remained still as a wall.

Wiping away the tears from your eyes, you looked up at him and noticed the intensity behind his eyes making you gasp quietly.

“Sy.”

“Hmm?”

You let out a shaky breath, the noises of nature outside suddenly more apparent, the love song playing tuning out the rapid beating of your heart as you finally realized the position you were in.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You shivered when he pressed himself closer to you, "I'll keep it to my grave, bug."

You gulped, "I think I've wanted to kiss you for years now."

You had expected him to laugh, to give you the same irritated look he gave the women in the market but his eyes seemed to have gotten more intense.

A deep rumble in his chest had you chasing your breath.

The same rumble in his chest let you know of his answer. “I'm sorry for making you wait then.”

Like a stalking beast, his quiet growls made a familiar warmth journey throughout your body. Especially when he parted your mouth with a gentle press of his thumb, his lips slotting into yours and immediately making you moan.

The plates on the counter rattled when the force of his body pushed into you, guiding you to grind in his growing bulge. You could barely keep up with him, surrendering and letting him devour your lips, his tongue licking every crevice sometimes guiding yours into his so he can suck it in his mouth with a throaty growl.

When the two of you parted a string of saliva hung and broke, making a stringy mess down your chin which he wiped with his thumb and making you suck it clean.

"Stay for dinner?"

You'd have stayed forever.

A routine between the two of you was surprisingly easily established.

Every morning, you’d cook your father breakfast and help around the farm if it was needed and by 9 am, Sy would pick you up and take you to his home where you would watch him care for the different horses he had adopted out of slaughterhouses. Depending on both your moods, by 11 you would either start cooking for lunch or just drive to town to eat.

By then, the world was at the palm of your hands.

The rest of the day was usually spent on Sy teaching you how to properly ride a horse, sometimes you’re riding … something else. But the repetitive nature somehow never bored you. In fact, it was almost pleasant to have such a predictable day by day.

“Why’d you come back?”

The rough tendrils of hair gently interrupted your musings.

“Hmm?”

Sy pressed kisses on the length of your spine, his untamed beard slightly irritating each inch of skin. With a grunt, you let yourself be turned on your back, cupping his face to press another passionate kiss on his lips.

He hovered over you, his scarred chest covered up by the puff of fur covering the expanse of it. You couldn’t help but run your hands across it.

“You somehow had managed to let me yap out all my stories from childhood yet you keep everything about you a secret,” he whispered in your ear, though the light tone told you he wasn’t mad at the slightest. “You play an unfair game, woman.”

A smile played on your lips which made an adorable frown you were all too familiar with appearing on his forehead.

“I …” he leaned in closer, letting you run your hands on his hair as if he knows it brings him comfort. “I think I wasn’t strong enough for the city.”

His frown deepened but he remained quiet. You were thankful for that.

“It was beautiful, really. I was mesmerized,” your eyes grew distant as you remembered the skyscrapers, the crowd that always had somewhere to be, the car rides to glamorous parties with your glamorous friends and the facade they wear to make the rest of the world envy them. You remember participating willingly, getting drunk of the luxury and laughter yet somehow feeling empty every time you came back to your apartment.

You thought you had gone insane, your manager also thought so.

A couple of dozen therapists and dietitians later and yet they repeated the same old sentiment: you were looking for something. Something to fill up the hole that couldn’t be patched by fame and money.

“I had a breakdown,” it was embarrassing to admit but his warm gaze let you know he wasn’t the type to judge. “I was no longer eating and had trouble sleeping. I was too tired to meet with my friends and … and I had this feeling of loneliness growing a hole inside me even though I was with wonderful people who did their best to treat me well.”

You could still feel that gnawing feeling in your chest, fear creeping up on you as you remembered the dark place you never wanna go back in ever again.

“And then suddenly, everything wasn’t enough. And I wasn’t enough,” it was quiet, the air heavy with your words, but he somehow made you comfortable enough that you still spilt everything out. “, every time I look at the mirror I wasn’t pretty enough, or skinny enough, or popular enough, And I tried, and tried so hard to not drown in that feeling but in the end … in the end, I couldn’t.”

You hadn’t realized a tear had fallen on the side of your face until a rough thumb wiped it away. Realizing you might have just scared him with your issues you tried to laugh it off but his face remained grim.

However, to your surprise he suddenly stood up, giving you no time to appreciate his glorious nude form when he leaned down on the bed and pulled out a chest before rummaging through it.

When he finally sat back down on the bed, he was carrying a magazine, flipping through it before pointing at a certain page. Sitting up, you peered at it, eyes widening when you realized it had been one of your first photoshoots for a small clothing brand. You had forgotten all about it as you had only done it for some pocket money but it would seem someone had managed to keep that relic hidden all these years.

“W-Why’d you …”

“Your father nearly talked everyone’s ear off when you first got your gig. Even gave me a copy when I helped fix up his old tractor.”

You tried not to cringe but he just chuckled at your efforts. “Did you like modelling?”

Despite the horrors that came after it you couldn’t deny it had been enjoyable. To be able to wear and pose with the art the designers came up with was so fulfilling. To see your beauty among the beauty of their works made you feel empowered even if just for a moment.

You nodded.

“Well,” he pressed a soft kiss on your shoulder, running his lips to your neck. “I don’t know how much it’ll count coming from me but I think you looked beautiful. I see you in the billboards too when I visit the city and regret the day I didn't snatch you up when we were teenagers and you were still ain't out of my league.”

You cackled, sliding back into the bed as you tried to hide the flattery written all over your face.

“It’s true,” he continued, grabbing your waist and dragging you in the middle of his spacious bed.

“You snatched me up now, didn’t you?”

He hummed, a predatory glare in his eyes as he ran his eyes on your nude form, your intimate areas barely covered by the blankets he was slowly pulling undone. His shiny necklace hanging from your own neck, the one he gave to you when you had shyly asked him if the two of you were really officially dating. Now you and everyone else can see that you were his woman.

“I did, didn’t I?” his rough hands flicked away the strands of hair in your face until you were bare all for him. “I’d beat up those city boys with a stick too if they think they can still hang around you.”

You grinned, running your hand on his hair, eyes staring at each other as if trying to memorize each detail for yourself.

“What about you?”

He raised a brow.

“I know who you are, Mr.Bigshot-Equestrian. Did you forget you were in that fancy Forbes list?”

He had the nerve to give you an impish smile, like a child getting caught with his hands on a lie. Your friends in the city used to gush about him, the big hunk of the man who has managed to obliterate the competition and suddenly rise in the bachelors of the social scene despite never showing his face in any public events. He wasn’t the richest but he was definitely the most enigmatic. Imagine your surprise when they pointed at your senior posing with a horse and showcasing the field where he raised Olympic-level horses with the same rigid expression on his face as he does after each football game.

“I guess I should thank you for not calling me out the first time,” he hummed, rubbing his prickly cheek in your stomach making you giggle.

You didn’t want to impose in case, just like you, he came back home to hide away from your clearly similarly complicated lives.

“I love my job, I do. I mean, the company had uncontrollably gotten big before I knew what even happened but I didn’t want to lose the reason why I chose that profession in the first place, y’know?" He explained, this time playing with your fingers as he laid his head in your chest. “So I came back home and bought out all the slaughterhouses in the state. Most of them had been rehomed and adopted now but I’m still left with that mean one Layla till she gives birth.”

You had not been expecting that. It made your reasons so selfish.

“That’s … that’s really noble of you.”

“Bah,” he waved his hand, not accepting your compliment. “I’m just like you. Running away from my problems when it gets a bit too much. I think we owe ourselves to be cowards every once in a while.”

His answer carried warmth that you hadn’t felt in a long time. A form of relief that assured and placated your demons.

He was so kind, a bit rough on the edges, sure, but so, so beautifully kind. And he makes you feel good and accepted for who you are and who you weren't able to become.

It makes you want to stick beside him and never let go.

Cause you could get used to this feeling for a long, long time.

Sy had never thought of getting married.

At least not for a while now.

Sure his pops had ingrained in his head how to treat a woman properly and the importance of making the wife happy but he had never forced his son to follow his traditional values to the dot.

He knew his old man had feared for him even on his deathbed that his son would be alone but despite that, he just never really found the right woman that he deemed agreeable enough to spend a lifetime together.

Then his sudden and unwilling rise to society had made him a target for vultures of women whose eyes shined when they realized his massive bank account and the trust funds he could set up if they ever managed to pop out his kids. And that had just effectively and almost permanently discouraged him to enter the dating scene altogether.

“Sy! I see the lake!”

But the woman on his passenger seat might just change his mind.

“Don’t put your head out too much, honey. You might catch a stray branch in that pretty face 'a yours.”

Despite being dead centre of the social scene Syverson had loathed, you were surprisingly still the same girl in the bleachers that always managed to catch his eyes.

He had been familiar with you throughout high school, might have stolen a glance or two. But he was graduating and you had enough creepy seniors trying to get your number and be your boyfriend that he didn’t want to be just another creep on your list. So he just ignored whatever budding feelings he had and warned his group of friends to stop bothering you and let it go.

Time passed by and he suddenly saw you in every magazine and billboard all over the world as his business took him everywhere. He even bought a girlfriend the lipstick you had been advertising in some weird and silent way of supporting you.

But now, after about two years of relationship, he’s glad he no longer have to watch you from afar. Not when you sleep in his bed every night and he can finally taste your lips first thing in the morning.

“Can I go in the water first, please?” you gave him that pout that you knew would make him give you anything you wanted. He should've known his woman who had spent most of her days travelling all over the world and spending nights in the most expensive hotels, would be excited about the lake he had found while surveying a piece of land for his new barn.

When you had screeched in glee about it he had his men called early in the morning just to check and see if the lake was safe enough to swim in the first place. Thankfully, they had finished preparing it just in time as your plane landed.

“You go on, honey. I’ll just set up a bit,” he smiled, bending down a bit as you squealed so you can wrap your arms around his neck and give him a series of wet kisses. He quickly scanned his surroundings just as you were shimmying your shorts down your legs until all you had left on were those threads you called a swimsuit.

He had bought it with his own damn card with the promise that you would only wear it if he was around.

“C’mon bear!”

He smiled at you trying to playfully splash him despite not being strong enough to actually make the droplets reach him.

“Alright, alright. No need to get spunky, woman.”

Shedding his own shirt and shorts off, he dove towards where you were, grasping your outstretched hand to make you wrap your legs around his waist.

“You’re warm,” you giggled, immediately pressing kisses on his neck and jaws. The water was chilly but he just found the little bumps on your skin adorable.

“Yeah?”

She nodded, the same contagious smile in her face that was so wide it almost splits her face in half. Especially when he pressed another kiss on her soft lips, licking away the droplets that dared touch it.

“And you’re cute.”

He entertained you by giving you a headstart and trying to catch you despite the obvious gap of your skills and wingspan, swallowing your laughter when he inevitable caught you and pulled you in another makeout session.

When you were visibly shaking, Sy had carried you back into the shore and placed his flannel on you along with a towel. Thankfully, the sun had already been out and helped dry the both of you as he started on the barbeque.

"You look so hot like this."

Sy spared you a glance, smirking when he saw the fire behind your eyes as you sat prettily on the picnic table like you were the feast itself.

He lowered the heat on the grill, walking towards you where you had a freshly opened beer for him.

"You think so?" he grinned, playing along.

You nodded slowly, standing up to gently push him on the seat, Sy's crotch perking up when you suddenly knelt in between his legs and alluringly started playing with the band of his shorts.

"I think I should thank you properly," you gave him that puppy-eyed look that always brings him to his knees. "For taking such good care of me all the time."

His grip on the neck of his drink tightened. Either he is an actual pervert or your adorable face next to his bulging crotch is just painfully lewd to look at and would make any sane man painfully hard "Can I, bear?"

He pressed the bottle of the beer to his lips and drank it all in two gulps. Nearly choking when you were suddenly mouthing on his clothed cock.

Teasing minx.

"Be my guest."

You smirked then, pulling out his cock and having the nerve to press a kiss on his leaking tip just to really fuck with him.

Ah, he thought, as you finally pressed his cock into your warm mouth. His eyes zoning straight into your empty ring finger that was gripping onto the length of him.

He might have to dig out that old ring out of his old man’s chest soon.

“Hey! You’re late!”

You waved at your friend, her blonde hair bobbing up and down in excitement. Quickly flashing the hostess a smile, letting her know you wouldn’t need a separate table you pattered quickly towards your group, squealing as you hugged the woman you hadn’t seen for about half a year due to your constricting schedules.

“I missed you so much, you whore!”

You smiled and hugged and pressed air kisses on the rest of the girls in the table. Most of them were as well-known as you, the unofficial clique forming when your group kept meeting in every after-parties and gathering. You weren’t too fond of some members but most of them were pleasant and truly good friends. A little conceited and maybe a tad snobby to others but good friends nonetheless.

“Sorry bout that,” you smiled as you sat down. “New York traffic.”

The small brunch date was cute and pleasant, with small talks and updates about each other’s lives. Now that you were no longer based in New York you tend to miss out on all the juicy gossips and dramas that go down but they do their best to keep you updated despite never understanding the reason behind your big decision.

It wasn’t until you heard Taylor’s sharp gasp that the uncontrolled grin spread across your face.

“OH MY GOD!”

“Suprise?”

Your whole table immediately exploded in hysterics when they saw the shiny old-fashioned jade engagement ring that had been passed down in Syversons family for generations.

“Who is it?!”

“Is this the mystery man you’ve been dating!?”

“When did this happen?!”

You had expected this reaction but the rush of questions thrown at you still caught you off guard. Sy was never a public person despite the fame that came with his money so the two of you kept it pretty lowkey, your friends back here hadn’t even actually met yet due to your busy schedules and you just weren’t ready to share him with the world just yet.

You had moved in with him a year ago, it seemed like he was waiting for you to get used to travelling back home and New York for work before he popped the question.

“I should marry you.”

“Huh?” The pancake sat on the spatula as you froze just as you were about to flip it.

Suddenly a vintage velvet box was sliding down the breakfast bar with a shiny ring sitting prettily inside of it.

“I just think I don’t like having you cooking anyone else’s breakfast,” he rounded the corner, carrying you up until you were sitting in the counter. In your shock, you hadn’t realized that he had you locked in your seat and had already slid the ring into your finger.

“So I’m asking you to make me the luckiest fucker on this earth and marry me.”

“I think it’s about high time we meet him, noh?”

You eyed Anila, her raised brows and sharp glare had always unnerved you. She definitely had a mean streak in her, never once getting upstaged. You had a feeling she still thinks you were making up this boyfriend of 4 years just to have an excuse ready not to hang out with them.

Throughout the years you had learned to tolerate her and focus more on her good qualities but for once you wanted to have the last word.

After all, you still remember her gushing about your man a few years ago when she saw him in that Forbes magazine.

“He’s picking me up,” you smiled. “But he’s a private person so please be nice, girls.”

They had eagerly nodded but you were too busy cackling internally that you hadn’t even noticed when, twenty minutes later, their chatters suddenly stopped and they all stared at the bullish man walking towards you.

“Bug,” you nearly choked on your cup of tea when his heavy hand landed on your shoulders, his deep voice cutting through the white noise of the crowd. “Ladies.”

He clicked his tongue, grabbing a napkin and wiping your face.

“It’s real nice to meet yall,” he flashed that charming smile that had them all opening their mouths to say something yet nothing came out. Anila flashed you a look -- one of shock, irritation and one that told you she was impressed. “But gotta take my woman for the taste testing.”

You win this time around.

“Okay …” someone managed to reply but Sy was already helping you up your seat.

“I think I’ll be seeing yall in the wedding?”

They nodded and it makes you snicker.

“I’m still not sure, bear. I think they’re very busy.”

All of them gawked, Anila even playfully throwing a napkin in your direction but it just makes you laugh. “You best be in your best behaviour then, don’t you girls? Send your sizes to my secretary.”

“You all have a good one.”

You nearly pranced on your way to Sy’s car. “Had your fun, honey?”

“Tons,” you grinned, tipping on your toes to press a kiss until you heard the cameras snapping and you knew the secret was out.

You sighed, the mood now sour.

“Hey,” he opened the door, helping you secure your seatbelt. When you looked up he had that soft smile on his face that told you everything was fine. “I love you.”

It was fine.

He was willing to go through this all with you.

You had talked about it, going public. It was your decision to keep your relationship a secret and for the most part, you had been successful. But he had let you know his love wasn't that fragile. That it can withstand whatever the world decides to throw at it. And that if you could no longer take it he would easily swoop in, take you away, and forbid the rest of the world from touching you ever again.

It was going to be worth it.

Your love was going to be worth this.

You smiled, pressing another kiss to his bushy lips. (You had begged him on your knees that he doesn’t shave it for the wedding and that had been worth it too.)

“I love you too, Sy”

“Home sweet home, honey.”

You gasped at the house Sy had given to you as a wedding gift. It wasn’t a secret that he had been working on it but he had simply made you agree on which designs you prefer and what furniture you wanted in where before promising to reveal it to you if you don't run out on him at the wedding.

What he didn’t show you was how massive the property was.

“Oh my god,” you pressed your face on the window, still not believing your eyes that the cottage-inspired mansion is now officially yours.

“You didn’t sign a prenup so that’s all yours,” he joked, laughing when you gave him a glare.

“I’ll milk you for all your worth, Syverson, don’t you dare,” you threatened when he opened the door for you.

“Yes, ma'am.”

The house was beautiful. Homey enough to make it feel like a home but wide enough that it doesn’t feel stuffy. He had immediately directed you towards the third floor that had the master’s bedroom, showing you the walk-in closet you had been dreaming about with the view of the mountains behind you.

“You aren’t as sneaky as you think, bear,” you snickered, pulling on his tie as you walked back to the bed.

“Sue me.”

Your giggle was cut off by his lips moulding into yours, the warmth of his chest filling you as he removed his shirt and bunched up your satin silk to your chest, too impatient to actually pull it over your head.

Hot breath escaped you when he harshly bit on the underside of your breasts, his sharp canines running on your sensitive nipples until he had you mewling.

“God, you’re irresistible.”

“More, Sy. Please, I need more. I need you,” you gasped, drunk on the excruciating pleasure.

The weight of the events that transpired finally settled in you. You were married. You were married to the love of your life. And right now, he was worshipping your body like it was going to be the last thing he does.

And you need him.

All of him.

“I’m right here, baby,” he mumbled in your pubic bone, slipping off the stringy lace thong off to lay you bare to him. “I’ll take care of you.”

Sy had always been warm.

Every summer you roll yourself off of him due to the intense heat but he refuses and just grabs you back into his arms until you got used to it.

But you doubt the fire you feel when his mouth covers your core was something you could easily get used to.

He growled when you instinctively gripped his hair, finding something to keep you tethered as the pleasure he gives you rapidly makes you lose your mind. Especially when his bruising grip on your thighs forbids you from moving an inch off his torturous tongue.

“Sy, aah, i’m close!"

Not answering, he instead pushed your legs further until you were bent in half, pressing his rough thumb on your clit and spearing the meat of his tongue straight into your pussy and making you scream.

“Oh god, oh god. It’s so good -- I,” your mumblings was cut off when he increased the pressure on his thumb on your clit and made you see white.

“AAAH!” your legs shook, your entire body trembling from pleasure, and your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Your scream was almost embarrassing when it echoed in the rest of your empty home through the wide-open door.

Before you could think too much about it the perspiration in your chest was suddenly licked making you gasp in sensitivity.

“Y-You’re a dog,” you pouted.

“No,” this time he pulled on your dress until the only thing you were wearing was the shining ring on your finger that tied you to him forever. “I’m your husband.”

“You think you like it here?”

You turned to see Sy in a barely buttoned shirt and loose shirts, carrying two cups of coffee and a whole blueberry cheesecake the both of you had stolen from the venue of your wedding last night in a tray.

Rolling your eyes at his nerve to ask if you liked the mansion you now like to call your forever home placed in the area where his humble cottage once stood, you took one of the cups offered to you and turned your head to give him an early morning kiss.

It’s gated now, and a lot more secure, but it was still the same view that had made you fall in love with this piece of land in the first place. You know your neighbours must think the both of you are crazy and obnoxious for building your dream home in this desolate town but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

This was where the two of you fell in love, after all.

“It will do,” you smiled, standing for a moment to let him sit in your chair while you place yourself in his lap despite the excess space in the little gazebo Sy had built for you after you mentioned you liked to watch the sun rise and set in this area.

You had just spent your first night with him in your home and you could swear you had never felt so at peace.

(Or maybe he had just fucked you into a coma but that’s nobody’s business.)

“That’s an awful lot of bedrooms on the second floor, Sy,” he tried to act nonchalant, humming to confirm that your observation was in fact correct. “You plan to make me fat with your babies?”

He buried his face in your neck, his laughter tickling you. “I’d like to make some little gremlins, for sure.” he patted the meat of your thigh gently in the beat of a song you weren’t sure existed.

You smiled, chest fluttering at such a thought. Little Syversons.

“I think we should wait a bit though,” you turned to him, eyebrows raised. “I don’t feel like sharing you for a while.”

That made your grin even wider, your quiet laughter at his undying possessive tendencies getting cut short with every kiss you pressed on each corner of his face. Being alone together for a while sounded nice, it was something you haven’t quite had and had always craved for years. Daydreaming about the day you will finally spend your every day with the love of your life.

And it’s finally here.

He finally fulfilled his promise and your dreams of making you a home.

The chirping of the birds and the early morning breeze making the trees dance was almost therapeutic. His large frame protected you from the chill, as the two of you stared at everything and nothing at once.

You were home now.

“Neighh!” followed a crash and water spilling over the freshly placed hay on the east side of your estate. An old cranky mare screaming in offence at the consequences of her actions made Sy groan and you laugh.

“Goddamn it,” Sy growled. “Layla! Stop fucking around with your bucket!”