#em fics

Today was a typical Friday for Syverson after he left base around 6pm. He stopped at the grocery store to grab something to make for dinner, excited for the weekend since the weather was finally warm enough to start grilling and he’d just finished the deck he started but never finished before deployment. He picked up some chicken, steak, and salmon, planning to surprise you with a lovely fish dinner on Saturday. Annoyed, he threw some vegetables in the basket too, cursing you for making sure he always ate healthy. Checking out as quickly as he could, Sy also made a stop by the party store and grabbed some bottles of your favorite white wine to go with the fish tomorrow. 

As he made his way through the front door, Sy could hear soft classical music coming from your office down the hall. His face bloomed with a large smile. He had forgotten you had a half day at work today and would be working from home after your doctor’s appointment. Sy put the groceries away before he made his way to your office to call to you through the door. 

“I’m home!” His voice boomed, jarring you slightly before your brain recognized your husband’s deep baritone. 

“Okay! I’m almost done and I’ll be out in a few!” you shouted back, focusing your attention back on your final report for the day. Syverson yelled a “Sounds good! I’m jumping in the shower!” to you and made his way to the laundry room, searching for some comfortable clothes to throw on once he was clean. 

He didn’t waste time while he showered. He saved the long, drawn out ones for the both of you, when he had time to feel every inch of your body in the hot spray of the water. This shower was just meant to clean himself up, wash away the dirt on his skin so he wouldn’t get you too dirty while the two of you got down and dirty. Sy shook his head, trying to push the dirty thoughts out of his head that have been there since he left your still naked body for work this morning. He couldn’t help himself really, you’re just too gorgeous not to daydream about all day. His mind wandered again to the thought of you: naked, legs spread out wide while he went to town devouring your pussy. Much to his own efforts not to, Sy reached his hand to his cock, stroking it gently as he succumbed to the thoughts of what he wanted to do with you tonight. He’d been so horny for you all day, picturing your body in the throws of pleasure he’d had you in the night before. Remembering how often you called out his name, his back still stinging in the places your hands clawed at as you came over and over for him. The hand stroking his now achingly hard cock moved faster, hurdling Sy closer to the edge. He was so close before the door to the bathroom received large knocks, your voice carrying through and startling your husband back to reality. 

“I’m done working! We can start dinner when you’re done!” You call, unaware of your husband’s activities. Sy clears his throat, willing his voice to not be in it’s husky “fuck me” tone -as you lovingly refer to it. “Be out in a minute!” he calls, switching his water to a colder setting as he attempts to make his dick behave. He’ll just have to have you as a pre-dinner meal to calm his aching hard on. 

A few calming breaths and some chilled water later, Sy gets out and towels himself off. He dresses in his favorite grey sweats, foregoing underwear as it will only get in his way later. Syverson runs his towel over his beard, making sure it’s as dry as he can get it so he doesn’t drip cold water onto your neck when he finally gets his lips on you. He keeps his chest shirtless, not even bothering to get one from the laundry room since he planned to spend most of his night sans clothes anyways.

You’re the first thing Syverson sees when he opens the bathroom door and he nearly gasps when he takes in the sight of you for the first time since this morning. Your hair is in a bun, messily thrown together so he knows you probably put it up after it was bothering you for too long while you worked. There are no pants on your legs but he can see a sliver of your heather grey panties from underneath the garment that took Sy’s breath from him. His red, D.I.L.L.I.G.A.F. shirt swallows your upper half damn near whole with how much bigger it is on you. The red shirt Sy came to love so much overseas and had grown so filthy with the sand, dirt, sweat, and blood that it was constantly covered in. He hasn’t seen that shirt since he came and threw it in the laundry room, claiming he’d be happy to never see “that filthy old rag” ever again. You knew he was kidding and was only really upset because of how dirty his favorite shirt had become, and more than likely a bit hurt due to the memories it brought up. So you had cleaned it (took three washes and a LOT of OxiClean) and kept it safe in your pajama drawer, waiting to give it back to him when he went back on deployment. However, it was so soft and comfortable and still somehow smelled a little like Sy even after the washes, you couldn’t help but put it on while you worked today. 

Sy holds his gaze on you for a while, watching as you stand at the kitchen counter and scroll through your phone. He knows he’s a weak man for you in his shirts and something about seeing you in a shirt he associates with his soldier side has him more riled up than he’d anticipated. Wordlessly, Sy strides over to you, ready devour you as he wraps his arms around your waist and burying his face into your neck, his cock rubbing against your ass through his sweatpants. Before he can even plant his first kiss to your neck, Sy is once again distracted by the shirt. This time though it’s not the remembrance of war that gets him but the total lack thereof. His shirt doesn’t smell the way he remembers, grimey and sweaty even when he did get to wash it. No, it smells like home. It smells like his sheets and his pants and all his other shirts do now. It smells like fabric softener and dryer sheets. It smells like you. He can feel himself choking up, tears brimming at his eyes so he pulls from you momentarily. 

Concerned, you turn around. He could just be playing coy and teasing but something about his grip on your hips before he pulled away made you think he was upset. You realize you’re wearing his shirt and worry for a moment he was serious when he threw it out of sight all those months ago. You worry you brought up a piece of the past he’d rather forget when he’s home. As you turn to face Sy, you see the teary eyes and his hand in a fist, one knuckles pressed to his lips as if that’s all that’s holding his tears back. You can’t even express the apology you think he wants before his arms are around you again, this time pulling you into a bone crushing hug and returning his face to your neck. Rubbing his back, you give an apology and promise you will throw out the shirt so he doesn’t have to look at it but he hushes you. “Keep it. Please keep it on. I’m not mad about it I just-” He pulls away to look you in the eyes. His glassy blues meet yours and a soft smile adorns his bearded face. “I’m so happy to be home.”