Captain Syverson One Shots / Drabbles

Let me In (Smut)

Summary: You have your very first fight and he is not inclined on apologizing properly. So he is trying a different trick of winning your heart back.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Reader (You)

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut + Fluff, Captain Cunnilingus returns with some Oral Sex, sexual innuendo, manhandling, dirty language.

Title: Let me In

You feel like an idiot. For 3 months, you've waited for him to get back from Iraq so you two can finally reunite. You've thrown the most outrageous outfit on yourself: a dark blue velvet dress that made your ass look like a piece of heaven on earth, and a pair of fuck-me-pumps that were set to send a clear message.

And it worked its magic. Syverson's hand possessed your ass in seconds, not wanting to let go. He collected you in his grip and had you in his lap for the entire evening, his manhood growing hungry for your hot embrace. It took every measure of self-discipline to battle the urge to take him to the pub's restroom and let him fuck you on top of the sink like a furious train.

Yet here you are, walking down the streets at midnight, teary-eyed and lips red with rage. Your uncomfortable heels echo on the hard damp road while you tug your skirt down, muttering to yourself how much you hate that big oaf.

"Get back here, babygirl, we ain't done talkin'." You hear his voice yelling after you as he chases you down the street. His steps are heavy, thudding on the ground.

"Go away! I don't want to see you anymore." You yell back, not even bothering to look at him.

You're afraid that if you'll see him you might just burst with anger and slap him, even though at this point he definitely earned it. Syverson's long legs outmatch your heel-wearing feet, though. The large man quickly picks up the pace and Lord knows he has the stamina of a bull.

This man is a trained special forces captain, after all. You, on the other hand, are just a girl.

"C'mon, doll, I didn't mean it..." he walks along your side. You catch that stupid smile of his from the corner of your eye, and his voice shows not even the slightest hint of remorse as if he's too proud to beg for mercy.

"I didn't think you'd be offended."

"You didn't think I'd be offended?!" You echo, eyes blazing with fury. Syverson looks down into your eyes, wearing a naive look on his gruff face. "You told your entire crew of soldiers that you bought me a vibrator so I can 'fuck myself' during our Skype calls, while I was sitting right. fucking. there!"

Syverson shrugs, lifting his hands in the air as if he still doesn't get what the big fuss is about.

"Ugh!!!" You grunt and turn on your heels, stomping your feet while rushing toward your home. "Go away Sy. Go back to your stupid friends at the pub, this is not happening tonight."

He sighs, his hand brushing your wrist, carefully trying to grab you. But you slap it away, hoping that your small palm did enough to hurt the big log. "Babygirl, it was a mistake. Now don't be like this, let me spend time with you."

Not even that deep, gravelly voice can help convince you. All you can think of is the redness on your cheeks as he casually told a group of deranged elite soldiers how you masturbate on video for him. Never in your life have you felt so ashamed. Syverson carried himself with such pride, adding to your embarrassment by mentioning: "It's not as big as the real thing but at least it keeps her covered until I'm back home."