Summary: While playing cowboy with the boys Sy says a phrase that he immediately regrets.
Pairing: Syverson x reader
Word Count: 324
Warnings: None really expect there’s a swear word innocently said by a toddler.
A/N: This drabble was brought to you by the picture below lol. Kids sometimes say bad words especially if they hear a parent/guardian say them. I know mine have lol. Please don’t @ me, it’s fiction.
Also you gotta have this look in mind when you read it.
Disclaimer: FEEL FREE TO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THE STORY! Writers live off reblogs! Do not copy any portion of my material to claim as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other fics, this was written on my phone and not beta’d.
***
Four Syverson boys. Four, six, seven and thirty seven. The youngest perched on his fathers back, happily bouncing about as his “horsey” galloped him through the living room.
“Yee haw!” Your middle son shouted, his voice surrounded by laughter as he rode his stick pony.
Loud pops echoed into the kitchen from the six and seven year olds pop gu ns. You shook your head, and rubbed your swollen belly. “Oh little girl, enjoy your quiet time while you can.”
Your oldest shouted, “you’ll never catch me!” As he popped another shot while escaping the living room into a bedroom down the hall.
“This way Danny! He’s getting away!” You chuckle at the way your second born calls for his brother. The steady sound of Sy’s hands and knees on the carpet increase as he makes it across your large living room to the hall.
“Wets go! Giddy up!” You step out to see Danny’s little feet spurring Sy in the ribs as he clutches a handful of his red t-shirt.
“Yippee ki yay!” The six year old called halfway down the hall.
Knowing Sy as well as you did you knew what was coming before the words came from him. By the time thought of the words to stop him it was too late; he’d already said it.
“Jacob Ryan Syverson!” A pause as your oldest poked his head out of his doorway. “Senior!” The younger relaxed.
The pony hung its head in shame. Under his breath he uttered another four letter word, “aw, shit.”
“Go on. Y’all keep playing. It’s already out there now! Boys don’t repeat that, please!”
The timer went off for the cookies baking in the oven as you went back into the kitchen. You missed your youngest as he leaned over his father’s shoulder and whispered, “Daddy? Was a mudder pucker?”
Although you did hear Sy’s roar of laughter as he fell belly first onto the floor. “Oh, boy.”
***
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Sy had never known warmth until he met you. He’d known heat, years of scorching days spent in the sand box had guaranteed that he’d never forget heat. But the gentleness of your warmth was something that was completely foreign to him. Coming home to you was like sinking into a warm bath; soothing, relaxing and comforting. Everything from your touch, the warm smell of your vanilla lotion, to the soft cadence of your voice; grounded him in a way he hadn’t realized he was missing until you’d walked into his life.
He sighed as he walk up to the sound of the neighbor’s dog barking. He stretched, sighing as he back popped before slipping his arms around your middle and pulled you closer to him as you slept. The curtains billowed in the October breeze. While the days were getting colder the two of you really enjoyed waking up to a fresh morning breeze.
You huffed softly in your sleep, wiggling closer to him.
He groans softly pushing his scruffy face into your neck and presses soft kisses on your pulse point. “Morning, suga’,” he mumbles, a dopey grin firmly plastered on his face.
You take a long breath in through your nose and smile. “Morning, soldier,” you say, softly as you lace your fingers with his thick ones.
“Sleep well?” he asks, resuming the line of kisses he was presses against your neck before.
You nod and stretch arching your back against him. He groans as your ass bumps into his pelvis.
“Suga’, ya killing me,” he groans, as he cock swells.
You giggle a bit as his hands find your hips. His thumbs rub circles against your hip dips.
“Quite teasin’, suga’,” he grumbles, nipping at your neck.
You shiver as the wind picks up and whistles through the window. “Aren’t you cold, Sy?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve got you and you keep me warm.”
You sigh, “You keep me warm too, Big Daddy.”
He chuckles at the nickname. “I mean it, you fill my life with so much warmth you’re like my own personal ray of sunshine.”
You roll towards him and smile, pressing your hands against his thick chest. “You mean that?”
He nods, “I’ve never had much softness or warmth in my life. But you brought it to me, you wrapped me in love and laughter.”
“That’s because I love you,” you giggle.
“I know, I just wasn’t used to it. I was used to scorching hot desert winds, crappy MRE’s and bad coffee. But you came into my life and soon everything was warm and soft, my meals were homecooked and the coffee is always hot and delicious. I feel like I don’t deserve it sometimes.”
You frown a bit. “You listen to me, Jase Syverson, you are the most deserving man in the world. You opened your arms wide and accepted my whole world without objection. You didn’t balk at the fact that I had a 7 year old at home or that I was a single mom. You were patient with me when I said I didn’t want to introduce you to her until we were serious. You patiently proved to me that you were the man to make a family with,” you say, pressing a hand his hands to your bump. “You built us a house from the ground up, you gave me a place to fill with warmth.”
He blinks at you with watery eyes. “Suga’, there you go making me melt.”
You giggle, “I’m not trying to make you melt, Big Daddy, but I’m just trying to get you to understand that you allowed me to feel safe and warm and in turn create a place for you to be safe and warm.”
He chuckles, “Guess we make a pretty good pair then don’t we?”
“The best,” you say, kissing his forehead. “You’re an amazing husband and father.”
He smiles, “It’s not hard when I’ve got a great wife and daughter.”
“And son,” you remind him.
He smiles and rubs your bump. “And son. I’m a lucky man.”
“Yes, you are,” you say smiling.
He presses a kiss to your forehead.
You slip your hands down his chest and play with the waistband of his boxers. “You feeling like getting lucky, soldier?”
He groans, “Hell yes.” He slides his hands over your tits and plays with your nipples as you slip your hand into his pants and stroke him slowly.
“Want you to fuck me, soldier.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, helping you roll over and pressing himself up against your back. He pushes his t-shirt up your thighs and play with your pussy. “Ready for me, Suga?” he asks, gruffly.
“Always ready for you, Soldier,” you moan, as he pushes himself into you slowly.
“So warm for me, darlin’, always so warm and wet. Shit!” he grunts as he bottoms out.
“You’re so big, Sy,” you moan rocking back against him.
He presses his face into your neck and starts a steady pace. “Gonna take my time on you, make you fall apart,” he says, slipping his thumb down to play with you clit. You moan again and close your eyes as he plays your body like a virtuoso, working your pleasure into a crescendo until your singing out your pleasure for him again and again as the sun streams through the curtains. Your room a warm sanctuary of Sunday morning pleasure.
