Henry Cavill Owns Me. Have A Wonderful Day

When you peek back at Sy, he’s studying the packet. You hesitate for a second. You’d bought a popular brand…You’d thought it would be good…

“Is it okay?”

“It’ll work.”

That sort of sounds like it’s not the greatest, but he smiles a little after he says it, so you’re instantly reassured. After Sy rips open the edge of the packet, he pauses for a second. “Y’ever put one’a these things on before?”

“Uh.” You look down at your naked body. “No? I don’t…have a…”

“On someone else,” Sy corrects himself before you have time to feel stupid. He knows the answer simply from the expression on your face alone, and he murmurs, “C’mere,” while taking the condom out of the wrapper and situating it at the tip of his dick.

After you scoot closer to Sy again, you watch his hands like you always do–big and veiny and deft and capable–and he reaches out to place your own hand on his cock. Your own wetness still covers him, and lube from the condom begins sliding down to add to it.

“Roll it down,” he says, and you flick your eyes up at him before nodding.

Without any help from him, you begin unfurling the rubber down his shaft, and even though Sy’s cock has been inside you before, this alone may be the most intimate thing you’ve ever done with him. The way he’s holding his cock out for you to veil. The way he’s severely looking at your little fingers as you do so.

“There y’go, babe,” he says, his voice a soft counterpart to the stern features of his aroused face. “Just like that.”

Once the condom’s all the way on Sy, you feel like stroking him, so you do. At the same time, he adjusts the tip of it, and then his eyes are back on yours. He cranes forward his neck with his lips slightly pursed, and you immediately kiss him. You know what’s next, and you’re excited.

The excitement inside must be visible for Sy to pick up on, you know, but your nervousness must be evident, too. “I think you’ll like it,” Sy murmurs right into your mouth. “Just tell me if y’don’t.”

He's very protective of her, and he feels a need to care for her general well-being. He always lets her sleep in as long as possible when they share a bed together since he knows she doesn't get the best sleep at Justine’s house, and when he catches on that she's seriously sleep-deprived--and has been sleep-deprived for a long, long time--he suggests that she nap at his place.

He'd be there on the bed with Y/N, holding her while she drifted off, and he'd watch her face go slack and listen to her breathe and let his mind go to a nice place while he remained awake. The more Y/N napped in Sy's bed, though, the more his mind would go to an entirely serene place with her in his arms, and he'd eventually find himself falling asleep right there with her, spooning her and feeling an all-over peace and relaxation in his body.

The naps would eventually stop becoming "scheduled". Y/N and Sy would be chilling on the couch when they'd find themselves drifting off together, and they'd both succumb to sleep. In time, these small naps become pretty regular, and sometimes, when neither Y/N nor Sy had other plans, they'd be longer.

No matter what, Sy is always hard when he wakes up. It's a combination of sleep and Y/N's scent and proximity to his body that does it. At first he doesn't act on it, and neither does Y/N (she has a lot of preconceived notions about sex that will be explained eventually, but sex is something couples only do at night...right?), but that'll change.

With Y/N's body perfectly aligned with his own--her back to his chest, her ass to his groin, their legs bent at the knee together--Sy squeezes his arms around her a little tighter while he stretches himself awake. Within seconds, Y/N is stirring, too.

By now, Sy knows exactly how she wakes up. She'll stretch, too, then she'll yawn, then she'll lift her head off the pillow they're both sharing, fluff it up, and lay her head right back down.

She does all of those things--in that order--and Sy waits until she settles again to put his hand on her lower stomach. Pulling her ass into him, Sy moves his face a little so he's no longer breathing in Y/N's hair but the sweet skin of her neck, instead, and he begins placing lazy kisses under her ear like he knows she loves.

"Had a good dream?" she asks with a chuckle, definitely feeling how stiff he is, and Sy doesn't answer. There ain't dreams that beat this reality.

Barely even moving from her position on her side, Y/N shimmies her own pants and underwear off, and Sy can't stop touching her under the blanket. He takes off his clothes, too, and soon they're spooning entirely naked, Sy's hands roaming and caressing and Y/N's hands softly covering Sy's as she lets him.

They don't kiss, not really, but they're both breathing so fast by the time Sy slips inside her that they wouldn't have the ability, anyway.

It's lazy, and it's close, and it's eyes-closed, balls-deep, blankets-on slow-fucking. Sy gets Y/N's leg over his own thigh towards the end, opening her up to his touch so he can rub her on the outside while filling her up on the inside, and she comes first, wet and shaky and tight and perfect.

Sy never wants to stop hearing those noises, and they play on repeat inside his brain while he thrusts into Y/N a little firmer than before. He breathes harshly into her ear as he feels that familiar sensation within his lower stomach, and he can't be quiet once his balls constrict. With deep, deep groans, he spills out inside Y/N's wet pussy, and she reaches back and holds the back of his head the entire time.

It's not until it's over that they actually do kiss. They still don't talk, but after Sy's given her a few open and languid kisses, their eyes communicate together. Y/N looks at Sy, and Sy looks right back, seeing his entire world, and she smiles.

Like you mentioned about his own father, Sy would take certain things from his childhood and try to either emulate them or change them entirely. I see him being a really hands-on father because that’s something that he missed growing up. He idolized his father, no doubt, but as a little kid, it was hard sometimes to understand why his dad was always away. He loved his mother and his two sisters, of course, but it’d be different (in his opinion) if his dad were around more. He probably wouldn’t’ve acted out so much to get attention.

So with that being said, he would do things with his children. He’d guide them, teach them right from wrong, make them as self-sufficient as possible. Those are things he values. Having routines...Spending quality time one-on-one with each child...Going out into the woods...Showing them his passion for cars...Having dinner together...

As for the tough love bit, yes and no. He's a military man, yeah, and he’ll want to run a tight ship in the beginning before letting loose some on the rules (which is really amusing to me to think about because Y/N would be the one who would get him to relax on stuff). He'll give clear, understandable explanations to his kids for things, and he’ll discipline accordingly. Back-talk is a huge no-no. Rudeness, especially to Y/N herself like kids’ll often do to their moms, is a huge no-no. He wouldn’t be a scary dad, but he’d be respected, and he’d expect that Y/N be respected, too. He loves fiercely, and he’s really protective. It’d be a huge mistake for a boy to drop off Sy’s daughter from a date at midnight, for example... He’d wait the entire night on the front porch while cleaning his gun.

Spanking is something he won't tolerate when it comes to tough-love, though, and that definitely stems from his childhood. He was whooped a lot. Maybe not a lot, but enough that it's engrained in his memory. If he spanked his own kids as discipline, then he thinks they’d grow up confused, thinking love is synonymous with getting hit. He’s against anyone hurting a child like that, but especially not a masculine figure doing it. There’s a bigger strength to keeping his cool instead of lashing out like that.

**This is a huge debate where I live since many people are pro-spanking. Behaviorally-speaking, though, all the action serves to do is inflict pain on the body which leads to fear. There are tons of other ways for “punishment”. Sy’s go-to would be making his kids do physical labor, granted they’re old enough.**

Despite his preference for some tough-love, Sy is such a softie at heart. He really is. The kids would be able to make him bend to their will once they’re old enough to know how to “play” him. Like, they could probably bribe him into letting them borrow the car for the night by saying they'll bring back ice cream from Dairy Queen. (And Sy’d reach into his wallet and give them the money for his own ice cream and tell them to keep the extra for themselves.)

Sy gives his kids bear hugs, he tucks them in at night, he’s corny, he asks about their days, is interested in their problems, and he doesn’t give a shit if he embarrasses them, either. Especially in public. He loves them, and they know he loves them.

On the floor, Sy scoots even closer to Aika and starts to scratch her head.

"You been my girl for a long time, ain'tcha?" Sy mumbles, wiping the tip of his nose with his free hand. It's somehow gotten damp. "'Bout time I let another one in my life, huh?"

Aika whines.

"Now, she ain't gonna be replacin' you or nothin'," Sy tells her, getting even closer to her. “What d’you think, girl? You think it’s time?”

Aika doesn’t whimper, doesn’t make a noise. She simply huffs out a long, weary breath and rests her head on her paws.

“Yeah,” Sy mumbles. “Reckon you’re right.”

He stares at Aika, and Aika stares up at him, and it takes everything in him to push down the prickling weight that’s welling up from his chest and up his throat. There’s a look people get when they’re about to die, like a resolve that switches to an acceptance of fate, like a fight that’s been given up, and it ain’t much different for animals.