Captain Syverson One Shots / Drabbles

Touch Luck (smut)

Summary: The Captain is having a bad day and everything is going to hell, but he vows to at least make one thing right while finding an outlet for his rage.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader (Inclusive, no ethnicity or body type described)

Word count: 869

Warnings: 18+, smut, angry rough sex, hyperspermia, manhandling, semi-outdoor sex, breeding, DomMale vibes, dirty talks, primal sex.

*No permission is given for reposting my work

Tough Luck

Were the stars misaligned, or were his hands simply cursed? For some unknown cosmic reason, everything- literally everything - Sy touched that morning, fell apart.

It started with boiling coffee spilling all over his trousers, then the bathroom door came off its hinges as he tried walking out of the shower. And now, after hours of working in the shed trying to build ol' Aika a new dog house, the wooden planks broke right in the middle.

Holding a glass of cold lemonade, you stepped outside and peered at Sy, just in time to see the raging bull growl hatefully and throw away the hammer held in his fist. The cluter nearly making your heart skip a beat.

"Is everything alright?" you leaned against the door frame and tilted your head with concern.

Sy turned to stare at you with eyes flaring of wrathful flames.

Angry?

No, Sy wasn't angry; he was seething as if his bones were composed of burning coals. But a different breeze enkindled the fire as the gigantic beast caught sight of your form: a white summer dress complimented your figure and the shade of your skin, your thighs casually shifted while you kicked a foot on the dusty ground.

With the maple afternoon sun hanging mid-sky, a droplet of sweat rolled down your inner thigh, making Sy's nostrils suddenly flare.

Not saying a word, he stormed toward you and wrapped his arm around your waist. The glass flew off your hand, breaking to shards as the large man whisked you away and slammed your ass on the wooden surface of his workbench.

"Honey, what....?"

Towering between your knees, Sy tore off his red shirt, his bare torso puffing with savage masculine pride.

"Get over here!" he grunted, hooking one hand below your knee while urgently fumbling with his belt.

"If I can do one thing right today, it's that I'm going to fuck you to shreds."

With one quick manoeuvre, he pulled out his apologetically large cock, clutching the hungry monster dripping in his hand. You gasped as he dragged you even closer, your little white dress now defiled by dust and grease. But he gave no care, making tatters of your panties as he tugged them off and pushed into you with a guttural shout.

Your cries filled the shed; your eyes fluttered shut with the bliss of his having his thick rod splitting your velvety cavern open. You always felt like a virgin with Sy - sensing that same tinge of pain that followed with a current of overwhelming pressure when he stuffed you full of his girth.

Though, virgin or not, Syverson never did gentle.

His hand soon snapped at your neck, squeezing lightly and pulling your head up as he began to fuck you with hard, measured thrusts.

"Open your eyes," he commanded, his timbre a feral growl, "you better look into my eyes when I fuck you."

Your answer was a trembling cry; air left your lungs with every slam of Syverson's cock inside you. Rough, and filled with carnal fury, he railed you rougher than ever. His hands slid from your knees to your hips, pulling you down the length of his shaft and shaking you the way a wolf stuns its prey.

"That's my girl, gonna make sure you walk awkward for weeks," Syverson rasped, proud at the way you fell apart and squeezed around him. Seeing you so helpless, so lost in a sombre delirium erased every sense of his failure.

All you could do was gasp and sob with pleasure, astonished by the hefty drag of him within you. Every stroke brought jolts of electric ecstasy, the coarse brush of his hair against your clit teasing you over and over again. Legs hanging in the air, you gave in to his lewd ministration, letting him fuck you to the point where your limbs felt boneless and your muscles burnt. And even though the sense of rapture crawled nearby, you weren't ready for the abrupt eruption that swept you away.

Like lighting cleaving through the ground, you came with him tucked abysmally deep.

Trapped inside the relentless cinch of your cove, he made every effort to prolong his inevitable climax. As if trying to prove something, he increased his pace - harder, faster, swelling inside a hole that only grew tighter until he lost the battle to his own lust. With a thunderous grunt, Syverson flooded your womb with his rich, flowing seed until it overflowed and seeped from the seams.

You let out a sigh of relief, looking at your man with amorous content. Syverson's blue glare was a heavy, post-orgasmic haze. He bit his bottom lips and gave you a soft grin, but it was then when his hands clutched your hips and your cunt twitched around his thick girth that you realised he was still hard.

He flipped you before you could even think. Ass hanging from the edge of the bench, you whimpered as his cock entered your oozing hole.

"Told you I'm going to make this one right," he choked out and rammed you from behind - hips slamming into your rear. "Gonna get you pregnant before we're done here."