#Captain Syverson x ofc

[eccentricallygothic]

Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them… 

Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.

. . . 

After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.

You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part. 

So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least. 

But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.

Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown. 

It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.

And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.

“God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more. 

“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.

 “Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire. 

“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.

“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him. 

“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.

MASTERLIST

. . . 

I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—

[littlefreya]

Pictures of You

Summary: While Sy is deployed, his new girlfriend sends him nudes, and now he must take care of 'business' himself while fantasizing about the things he would do to her.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x himself x OFC

Word count: 1,200

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), pure smut, graphic depiction of sex (male x female), male masturbation, bodily fluids, accidental creampie, dirty language, punishment, Freya using "peach". Being caught in the act. A bit of fluff. Not beta'd.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, translating, copying it, or parts of it and claiming it as your own*

A/N: It's been a while since I posted. I am working on a series (plural), but I got inspired by a lovely anon today. I'm not sure if I'm tagging anyone since my tag list is probably outdated and I'm not sure who still wants on. So, if you enjoyed, reblog, or comment, let me know. I'd appreciate it. 🖤

Pictures of You

At last, night unfurled, and the camp became quiet. 

The glorified Captain retired to his quarters, exhausted from a day of training recruits and tedious paperwork. This deployment would be long, and though he loved being The Captain - Logan Syverson was beginning to miss home.

It was all because of her. Sy shouldn't have caught feelings, long-distance relationships were never his thing, but damn, she was something else; a woman way above his league, pretty, hot as hell and way too smart to be with a military grunt like him.

Needless to say, fucking her made him feel like a god. 

Stripping down to his boxer, Sy slumped into his bed with a huff and reached for the private cell phone stuffed in his drawer. 

Twenty unanswered messages appeared on the screen—three of them from her.

Joy painted his face at the sight of her name. Ignoring everything else, he went directly to read her messages.

“Missing my big Sy”, the first message read. 

The other - “something to make you think of me.”  

The last message was simply an attachment. Curious, Sy tapped it open.

‘Fucking hell.’

The unmistakable pang of desire instantly surged through his groin. 

There she was, his sweet woman, naked and spread open like a present unwrapped, especially for him. She was sitting on her bed, one breast gripped by her palm with her nipple peeking through dark-painted nails while her other hand toyed with the sweet peach between her thighs. 

“Fuck,” Sy muttered. Already rock-hard. Absentmindedly, his hand massaged the hefty bulge through the fabric of his boxers, eliciting a deep groan from under his breath. 

‘What are you doing to me, babygirl?” 

It wasn’t just her naked body and the way her finger teased her own slit, but the look she gave him, the familiar neediness in her gaze, the way she bit her lip. 

Damn, if she was here right now… He’d fucking punish her for teasing him so bad! He’d pin her to the wall with his hand around her throat and show her what happens to naughty girls who like playing such wicked games. 

Now he had three fucking months to go, and all he could think of was how bad he wanted to be inside her tight little cunt.

‘Well, guess I’ll have to take care of this myself…’

Springing his cock free from his boxers, he ran his rough fingers up and down the length of his imposing shaft - slow at first, as Sy enjoyed taking his time, just as he would with her. His thumb rolled across the crown of his cock, gently grazing the tip while he imagined flipping her against the pitted wall in this room. Make her take it from behind so he could look at that perfect rounded ass of hers and watch his cock slipping in and out of her body. 

Still holding the photo open, he focused on her succulent cunt before spitting onto his open palm and griping himself once again. Tighter this time, he squeezed onto his girth and began to fuck his own hand. 

Pants and groans sputtered from his mouth, his chest heaving as he gradually picked up the pace. In his fantasy, he parted her ass cheeks and teased her dripping little hole until she begged him to fuck him. Then he forced himself all the way in, making her cry out. 

The sounds of her moans echoed in his memory, so helpless and desperate at the same time - he was nearly too much for her; that narrow cavern of hers could barely take his leviathan cock, but still, she took every pounding, becoming wetter around his shaft as her body not only yielded to accommodate him but lured him deeper inside. 

“I want inside you, babygirl…” Sy mumbled out loud, his hand now moving in ecstatic fervour. Sweat dripped down the contracting muscles of his abs. Soon, he felt himself swell even larger, and his sack strained with the desperate need for release. 

He tightened his grip, now choking his shaft and thinking of how it felt when she came around him. How she contracted all around his cock and shattered like glass smashing on the floor.

“Don’t come inside….” She’d warned him. She wasn’t on the pill. But this time, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from filling her full of his cum, and maybe… he wouldn’t want to… 

It was his fantasy, after all. 

“FUCK!!!” 

With the image spilling inside her, he allowed himself to be swept by the fierce waves of pleasure, his entire body buzzing with bliss as hot, thick ribbons of ecstasy spilt over his fingers. He might have shouted too loudly, but it’s not like he ever gave a fuck. 

It took Sy a few good minutes to climb down to earth, and then he chuckled hoarsely as he noticed the mess he had left on his hand. Shaking his head, he reached for a towel and wiped himself clean before returning to gaze at her photo. 

“What am I gonna do with you, doll?”

Well, there was an idea. He could repay the favour by sending her a photo of himself. Usually, he was against this type of stuff, but what she did was particularly risky for a woman, and if she was bold enough to treat him, he could do the same. Besides, they had three months until they could meet again. He better make sure she remembered who she belonged to.  

He stroked himself lightly. Still semi-hard, he wondered whether he could work himself to another erection this soon when a knock sounded at the door.

“Mother of f…. One moment !!!” 

Sy yelled. Irritated, he briefly tucked his shaft back in his boxers and jumped out of bed. The room smelled rancid, but Sy couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t even bring himself to put on a shirt as he rushed to the door.

“What?” He grunted before getting to see who was on the other side.

‘Well, fuck me sideways.’

It was a woman because why the hell not? Private Hicks, to be precise. The young thing’s eyes flared with surprise and then snapped to the floor to avoid staring at her sweaty, half-naked superior, but not before catching a glance of his hairy, tattooed chest and the semi-erected bulge in his groin.

The strong scent of sweat and sex hit her nostrils like a smack in the face. It took everything not to curl her face. There was no need to put two and two together to realise what she had just intruded. 

“Sir.” Hicks saluted in badly hidden embarrassment. 

Sy let out a deep sigh. Clearly, she knew what he was doing before she arrived. She probably heard him come all over himself right before knocking. Frankly, he wasn’t ashamed. 

“Get on with it, Private.”

“Sir,” she repeated, her voice a slight tremble. “ I’m sorry to bother you… but the Major asked me to get you.” 

Sy scratched the back of his head and groaned deeply. “Tell him I’ll be there in 10.” 

Without any other comment, he shut the door, leaving Hicks to wander back to the Major’s office, all shaken and quaking. 

As she walked away, she couldn’t help but bite her lips. All across her body, she felt those little electric streams of excitement, and her breath suddenly became shallow. She shouldn’t have thought of her superior like this, on what he did behind that closed door just a moment before she arrived, but Captain Syverson was too hot to handle and, needless to say, too loud. 

Well, she’d have to take care of herself later…

[peyton-warren]

Fluffy Syverson Recommendations

@cynic-spirit asked on my post here for Fluffy!Sy fic. I decided to start a new post to try to gather some steam to get them recommendations. Here are mine in no real order other than how I found them doing a search. Please add more in comments/reblogs and I will continue to update this list as we go.

Loopy by @pterodactylterrace <<<< Possibly my FAVORITE ALL TIME FAVORITE SY FLUFF!!

The bear and his honey by @gummydummy19

Sweetest things by @mayloma

Syverson Family War by @viking-raider

A Year in Apartment 6B by @gummydummy19

Untitled Mother's Day Fluff by @geralts-yenn

Three-Jump Cowboy by @peyton-warren

Buns in the Oven by @littlefreya ( i cant believe I forgot this one in my original post!!)

More Angst than Fluff but I love them anyway:

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by @ellethespaceunicorn

The Bell Tower by @thesaucynomad

List of Sy Writers, Alphabetical (mainly so I avoid duplicates) but not inclusive of all Sy Writers:

@angryschnauzer

@beck07990

@cardierreh15

@captainsy-cookiemonster

@deandoesthingstome

@dungeonpuppykai

@ellethespaceunicorn

@feralrunaway

@geralts-yenn

@gummydummy19

@hope-to-hell

@imyourbratzdoll @keanureevesisbae

@jamneuromain

@just-chirpin

@littlefreya

@loganbcrnes

@martha-oi

@mayloma

@mrsevans90 @notabronte @oddsnendsfanfics

@peternoonewantsthat

@peyton-warren

@poledancingdinos

@pterodactylterrace

@raccoon-eyed-rebel

@ramp-it-up @rmtndew

@shellyshellshell

@shewriteswhenthewordscome

@sillyrabbit81

@sweetandgentlecreature

@swiss-mrs

@thelastsock

@thesaucynomad

@thezombieprostitute

@viking-raider

@winter2112rose

@witchersmistress

@wolvesandhoundshowltogether

Disclaimer:

Do not mean any offense to anyone not on the lists above. This is meant only as a start! Will build as more folks provide more stuff. Also check comments for more recommendations. I did not add stories that were added below to the above list. And a number or writers provided links to their master lists.

[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 30

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 3K

Warnings: Angst

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @athenepromachos @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019 @rosecentury @wa-ni @secretdream2 @missemrose @shellyshellshell @winter2112rose

Masterlist

Day 754

After surviving his second Colorado winter, Sy was impatiently waiting for summer to arrive. The temperature was still a little too cold to spend a casual evening outdoors without an extra layer or two so when Sy had been invited to his buddy’s place with strict instructions to bring a bathing suit he had almost thought the guy was fucking with him.

As it turned out, the man’s property had a large hot tub that could easily fit eight people with more than enough room to cozy up with a guest. The entire back deck had clearly been adapted for the changing seasons. It was covered with roofing panels to protect from the elements, removable plastic sheeting was hung all around to cut the wind and there were lights and space heaters above the table where they’d had supper.

The first half of the evening had just been Sy and a few of the guys from base. Once they’d finished eating and had played a few rounds of cards, Lyle’s girlfriend returned with six of her friends in tow, including Strand’s girlfriend.

The mood changed after that. It wasn’t surprising that a few of the girls were obvious tag chasers. Not that the guys minded the attention. Strand, who was apparently completely at home at Lyle’s place, pulled out a game where teams took turns guessing movie titles based on either a sentence, a word or some sort of miming.

Considering Sy was behind on nearly every single aspect of pop culture imaginable, he was absolutely terrible at it. It was a relief when one of the girls announced she was going to get changed to get in the hot tub.

“Me too,” Lyle said, letting his girlfriend pull him up. “The DOMS are kicking my ass.”

That made two of them and it was partially Sy’s fault. There was hardly a spare moment where he wasn’t training as of late. Lyle found him in the gym two days before and had made the mistake of trying to keep up with Sy’s insane workout. Leah’s absence from his life was becoming more and more difficult to deal with. He missed her and he dealt with it by pushing too hard at the gym day after day then going on runs with Aika when he got home.

She’d been down exploring the yard most of the evening but had returned when she heard the unfamiliar voices. Sy just hoped that the abundance of people cooing at her around the table would be enough to keep her from jumping in the hot tub with him.

“Your dog is so cute,” a girl named Lacey said, lowering herself down in the corner opposite from Sy and dipping her legs in the water. “Is she a bomb dog?”

“Na, she’s all mine,” Sy answered, cracking a small smile at the way Aika sat at attention, watching him even while Strand stroked her head. It was a good thing Leah had insisted on the importance of the ‘stay’ command.

“I thought you said he’d gotten her back from Iraq last fall?” Michelle asked Lyle over her shoulder.

Lyle leaned back, stretching an arm over the edge of the hot tub and keeping the other on Michelle’s hip under the water. “He did. She was a stray.”

A chorus of awws sounded from every girl present.

“That is so sweet.”

“You think that’s sweet, Lacey, wait until you see the Instagram page he made for her.”

“O. M. G!” Lacey squealed, immediately lifting her phone and typing in the username Michelle recited.

Sy’s brothers had been the ones to set up the account for Aika so Leah could see all the things they got up to. Considering that they had been his first two subscribers, he had his suspicions that it hadn’t been an entirely selfless act. He didn’t go so far as to write captions as if they were from Aika’s point of view but he did occasionally stage pictures specifically to be able to share them.

“I’m getting another beer,” Lyle announced. “Sy?”

“Sure.”

Michelle slipped off Lyle’s lap, scooting closer to Sy.

“So where’s your girlfriend tonight?” she asked, too low for the others around them to hear. Three more people had joined them in the water, their laughter more than loud enough to cover up their conversation.

“I ain’t got one.”

“I call bullshit.”

Sy couldn’t help but smirk at the spunky retort.

“Do you now? Why is that?”

“Because Lacey has been literally freezing her double Ds off in the hopes that they would catch your attention and you haven’t so much as glanced her way. You’re either taken, a monk, or you play for the other team.”

It was then that Sy realized that Lacey was indeed sitting almost entirely out of the water in only her bikini. A bikini, which, after a second glance, Sy determined must have been about two sizes too small. Despite the best efforts of the men on either side of her, her attention drifted to Sy every few seconds.

“Why can’t it be none of the above?”

“Is it?” Michelle challenged.

Sy didn’t answer, choosing not to confirm nor deny what she had already figured out.

“So why are you pretending to be single then?”

Having only met her that night, Sy couldn’t be sure whether Michelle was fishing for gossip or genuinely interested in the answer.

“I’m not. It’s… Complicated.”

She raised one eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to continue. Sy considered his words for a long moment. Lyle’s girl obviously had a nose for bullshit that could rival a bloodhound’s but he couldn’t risk giving her so much of the truth that Lyle would be suspicious if she ever brought it up to him.

“She’s not ready to make anything official so, in the meantime, I’m tryin’ to show her that I’m serious about commitin’ and not fuckin’ around.”

Accepting that answer with a small hum, Michelle leaned over the edge of the hot tub to refill her wine glass. They’d all been given stainless steel cups to use in the water. It was unfamiliar at first but if the hot tub was used most weekends it made sense to have metal wine and beer glasses instead of constantly buying disposable ones. Or risk having to drain the whole thing to clean out broken glass.

“Well,” she said, holding up her now full glass, “here’s to hoping she makes up her mind or cuts you loose.”

Keeping up with his lie, Sy tapped her glass with his, muttering a low ‘me too’.

Day 770:

Sy hadn’t had any news from Leah in months. Not a single call, text or email. Knowing that there were days in their line of work when you just couldn’t come up for air did not make being on the receiving end of the silent treatment any easier.

When his phone rang out with Leah’s ringtone that morning, he could not answer the call fast enough, practically tripping over himself as he dove for the phone. Upon hearing her soft greeting, Sy took what felt like his first full breath in months.

He didn’t expect her to have much to share since the details of her ops were most likely classified, but when they had covered every small talk topic under the sun from the weather to sports to the new book Sy had started with Leah only contributing a few words, Sy got the feeling something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” he asked, getting up from the couch to let Aika back inside. “If you’re tired, I can let ya go.”

He’d been selfish to keep her on the line for so long when she’d just gotten back and was in dire need of sleep. At least she had left a message for her brother before calling him so Caleb would know she was okay as soon as he got off work.

“My umm…” Leah hesitated. “My commitment is up at the end of the year.”

For the most part, they had avoided the subject of her enlistment in the past year and a half. Sy had never asked about it outright because he didn’t want Leah to feel pressured one way or the other. If she chose not to extend to pursue their relationship more openly, he wanted it to be her own choice. Sy had had the luxury of choosing his career path up to that point without any outside pressure. Leah deserved the same courtesy.

There was no need to ask if she enjoyed her job. That was obvious to anyone who spoke to her for more than five seconds. Her decision would almost certainly come down to whether or not she was ready to give it up so soon.

An impatient whine pulled Sy out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I remember,” Sy cleared his throat, resuming the task of wiping mud off of Aika’s paws. “Have you made a decision about it?”

Though he couldn’t see her, Sy pictured Leah pulling her hair over her shoulder and running it through her fingers as he waited for her to speak.

“I’m going to stay on.”

As prepared as he was to hear that answer, Sy still felt a pang of disappointment, his eyes falling shut as he hung his head.

“You uh… You don’t sound all too thrilled about that.”

He would have thought Leah would be happy about her decision. Nervous to tell him, sure, but also excited to progress her career. Instead, she sounded almost… Sad.

Or maybe he was just hoping that she was at least somewhat as torn up about it as he was.

“I am but…” She trailed off, letting out a sigh. “Do you think I’m making the right choice?”

“Darlin’, you’re amazin’ at what you do. You’ve already accomplished so much in such a short time, I can only imagine where you’ll go from here. I’m really fuckin’ proud of you, baby girl.”

He really did mean every word. As much as he wanted her back in his arms safe and sound, she truly was made for this job.

“Thank you for saying that.” She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I guess I’m just conflicted because it all feels unfair.”

“What does?”

Sy finally picked himself up from where he still knelt on the floor by the back door and made his way to the couch.

“You spent thirteen years sacrificing your personal life for your career. And now that you’re home, you’re still sacrificing your own happiness. I’m making you sacrifice your happiness.”

There was no disagreement there. Not about how she was forcing him to sacrifice his happiness—being away from Leah sucked but it wasn’t like she was to blame—but rather that it was unfair for life to have given him the perfect woman only to take her away. He was blissfully ignorant to what he was missing until his little spitfire turned his whole base upside down.

“Leah, you ain’t makin’ me do a damn thing, ya hear me? I went into this job knowin’ that if I ever had a serious girlfriend I would likely be away from her for extended periods of time. That’s a choice I made long before I ever met you.” He’d just never thought he’d actually find a woman he was willing to settle down with. “Did I expect that I would be the one away while my girlfriend stayed home? Yes. Does that mean I’m any less inclined to accept it now that the roles are reversed? Fuck no.”

Aika’s collar rattled as she stretched on the floor then shook out her coat before jumping up on the couch and plopping down with her head on Sy’s lap.

“Maybe, but this is completely different.”

“Oh yeah?” Sy challenged, resting a hand on Aika’s chest and lazily running his fingers through her fur. “How do you figure?”

“If you were with a civilian, like you probably imagined, you would be allowed to date her openly. You would be able to move in together, get married, have kids. She would be able to move with you if you were reassigned. With me, you can’t have any of that and you’re risking your career and your pension. If we’re found out, you lose everything.”

Alright, she had a point that things would be significantly easier if one of them were a civilian. She was wrong about it having to be her, though.

“Look, I won’t deny that bein’ away from you is hard.” Excruciatingly so. “But that doesn’t mean that the only way for us to get that life is by you givin’ up your career. Hell, I have to retire sooner or later. Maybe I move that up a little. I had my time, you should have yours too.”

“And then what?” she huffed, clearly agitated. “If you retire early then what’s the plan? You pack up and join me in Germany or wherever the fuck I end up next? Spend weeks on end alone and away from your family? Find a job to make ends meet because it would be way too fucking suspicious if I suddenly tried to claim spousal benefits for a newly retired major?”

By the way she was lashing out, Sy guessed this had been worrying her for some time but he was at a loss as to how to assuage her fears. Nothing he could say would reassure her because she was right. Him retiring early didn’t make a lick of sense, but at least they’d be together.

If he waited to retire at thirty-eight, they might eventually be able to go public within the following year. If Leah agreed to having kids and got pregnant as soon as they started trying, their first child might be born by the time he was forty.

Sy thought back to Ash’s words about not wanting to see his kids off to college in his sixties.

Was that what he wanted?

Who was he kidding, he’d do anything so long as it made Leah happy. He would wait five more years to be with her. He would wait until he was old and grey if that was how long it took her to decide she wanted to have kids. Or he would spend the rest of his life taking her out on adventures if she didn’t.

“I retire after my twenty, then. At most it’s five years, that’s not so bad.” He was trying to convince himself as much as her but he was doing a shit job of keeping the dejection out of his tone.

“I can’t do this for five more years, Sy,” Leah whispered.

There was a pregnant pause while Sy tried to remember how to breathe.

“Leah, what are you sayin’?”

He prayed he was wrong. Prayed he was jumping to the worst possible conclusion but there was no mistaking the definite sniffling coming from the other end of the line.

“We haven’t seen each other once in the last year and a half. I have to sneak away every time I want to talk to you or read your messages. I’m lying to the four people who are meant to trust me with their lives. We don’t even know if we’ll actually work together when all this is over because we’ve only had two real weeks together.”

Sy ran his hand over his head then down his cheek to his non-existent beard. There had to be something he could say to convince her not to do this.

Just as soon as that thought popped into his head, a wave of guilt washed over him. He’d been pressuring her into this relationship from the start, hadn’t he? First with that stupid kiss, then showing up at her house unannounced, and finally by begging her to give the whole long distance thing a chance.

It was so easy to forget how young Leah was. She behaved with the strength and maturity of someone twice her age and had suffered for every piece of life experience she gained. Maybe he was acting under the assumption that she was in the same place that he was because of it.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Leah was the one, but he couldn’t blame her for not being ready to jump into a serious relationship with the first guy that came along.

Between graduating high school essentially as an orphan and giving up total control to the military, Leah had barely had a chance to live. She’d never had the chance to learn where she fit in the world.

“We’ll work,” he argued but his voice lacked any conviction.

“You can’t know that.”

He could, he just needed Leah to give them a fighting chance so she could come to know it too.

“Do you love me?” he blurted out as a last-ditch effort.

“Sy—”

“Leah, do you love me?”

He could tell she was fully sobbing now even though she must have been trying to muffle the sound with her hand.

“Yes.”

“Then we work.”

The silence stretched on for one breath. Then two. Then three before Leah finally answered. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this.”

Sy sagged in his seat. No, it sure as hell wasn’t. And he’d done that to her. He continued doing that to her.

“Okay,” he said on an exhale, admitting defeat. “I won’t make this harder on you by arguin’. You need space then I’ll give you space. I just hope you know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“This isn’t just a temporary thing, Sy.”

“I know, I know.” He shook his head, trying to find the right words. “Just… You need me, I’m one call away.”

Before he could think of any other stupid things to say to coerce her into staying, Sy hung up the call.

[maggyme13]

Moving atop the Underworld (13/?)

Ellie just moved into a new flat. Introducing herself to her downstairs neighbor with a cake she did not realize what the future held for her and him. And what had an asshole coworker to do with it?

AN: I am deeply sorry! I know i kinda promised this chapter to be posted 2 Weeks or so ago. But, yeah, Jobhunt and so on came in the way... sorry!

Don´t like-> Don´t Read, Minors DNI

Warning: SMUT

Wordcount: around 2.4k

Masterlist

Series-Masterlist

Part 12

“You know what I am regretting right now?”, Sy hummed, one hand on the wheel, the other resting just above Ellie´s knee, “That I did not make you wear the blue Dress with the slit on the side. Would it make it so much easier for me now.”

Little sparks of energy followed the softest movements of his strong fingers up her thigh and a moan-like groan left her throat when he squeezed just below the juncture of her legs.

“Say, Wife, how much do you like this dress?”, he asked, his voice deeper than usual, but when she turned to face him his whole concentration was on the traffic around them.

“It´s comfy a- and I like the color.”, she answered, wondering what he was playing at, “Why?”

Now a smirk danced on his lips and he slightly cocked his head a bit to send a sideways glance.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She answered, however immediately pouted, and then looked confused when he removed his hand from its resting place only to hold a short curved knife a second later.

Where did he suddenly get that from?

Her eyes stared at the reflecting and dangerous object she did not notice the car stop at a red light and he turned fully towards her.

“Ellie, do you still trust me?”, he inquired, his eyes unrelenting and taking in any twitch of reaction might give.

“I trust you.”, she answered her eyes finding his.

Sy was still staring her in the eyes when, after a flick of his wrist, he managed to cut the fabric of the dress from her hip down to the hem without the cold knife even touching her skin.

“Better.”, he chuckled just when the traffic light turned green and he continued getting them home.

“That was expensive.”, Ellie breathed. Her brain momentarily circuited in the process of understanding what had just happened.

Why did I say that? What the Hell Ellie?

“Debatable.”, he chuckled, and any rebuttal she might have had was silenced when his hand returned to its previous spot. This time however beneath the skirt directly on her skin. Teasing small circles and giving small pinches here and there.

Up and down her leg he went. Up and down and down and up each time slightly different.

More and more heat gathered within her belly and arousal between her legs. And just when it reached the point where Ellie couldn´t bear it anymore, Sy stopped the car once again and made her look at him.

“Last chance to tell me NO. I will make sure you get inside safely, then stay at the villa for the night, and return with breakfast in the morning. No hard feelings.”, his voice was husky. Eyes filled with need and want, but he still was willing to put his very obvious needs behind hers.

In place of answering him directly, she engulfed him in a deep kiss, her hands finding the buttons of his dress shirt and started opening them. His lips caught the surprise yelp her throat let loose when one of his strong arms sneaked under her backside and pulled her out of the car with him the very next second. With his free hand, Sy let them into the house, opening every door with so much ease Ellie did not even realize he had carried her inside until she found herself laying on their bed with her Husband standing over her.

His jacket lay in a disregarded pile next to him on the floor, his tie joining barely a second later followed by the shirt. Gaze hot and hungry he stared down at his flushed wife. Her dress fanned open like a halo around her, the new slit allowing him a peek at her covered core.

“So beautiful.”, he growled, his abdominal muscles, forearms, and hands twitching in anticipation of what they would do soon.

Regardless of his yearning and arousal, the man stood still, not only not wanting to accidentally scare her but also relishing the hot looks and bit lip she gifted him with.

“Ellie, do you trust me?”, he breathed, needing to hear it one more time before going further.

“Alexander Captain Syverson.”, Ellie gulped opening her legs in invitation and with no idea where that boldness was coming from, “Fuck me, please.”

“Soon, but first I am gonna do something I wanted to do for so very long.”

“Wha-? SY!”, she squealed in surprise when he knelt where he stood at the foot of the bed and pulled her to the edge. Her legs now resting on each of his shoulders and her core was right in front of his face.

“Can you reach those pillows? I want you to put them under your back and look at me while I make you scream on my fingers and tongue.”, the man kissed against the cloth still covering her pussy.

Doing as she was told, Ellie turned and reached for those pillows. Barely able to get a hold she tried to move up just a bit, but his hands on her hips kept her from doing so.

“Trying to get away from me?”, he teased, his hums sending vibrations through her lower belly.

“Arghh.”, she moaned and was finally able to grab the pillows and prop them up against under her shoulders.

“Good. Now let me hear you when I ravish you.”

A second later her underwear was gone, ripped into pieces, and any complaints she might have died on her tongue when he licked through her folds only for his lips to kiss her lower lips.

“Syyyy...”, Ellie moaned already feeling an orgasm forming and her hands searched to find something to ground herself to, finding that something in her husband's head. One of her hands settled on the back of his head, subconsciously pressing him further against her core, and the other on her right breast, squeezing and playing with it before switching sides. Now with the added pressure from her, his angle changed and his beard added to the feelings she was experiencing.

“You taste so good. Like honey.”, he praised, “Now give me one more on my fingers.”

“Fing- Aahhhhh.”

“Soo tense already. Just feeling me enter you made you come like this I can´t wait to feel and hear what my dick will do to you.”

“Yes pleAAse. Sy.”, she moaned, no screaming again, when he added a second finger and then a third.

Soon a third orgasm wrecked her body. One so strong Ellie´s hips raised from the bed and her legs shook.

“So beautiful.”, Sy kissed his way up to her throat and face, “Ready?”

She nodded eagerly her breath already hitching in her throat, and she bit her lower lip in anticipation when he slowly got off the bed and got rid of the last parts of clothing. Now completely bare in front of his wife the enforcer allowed the reality of what was to come to register in her mind and give her one last opportunity to stop everything. It would be hard for him to leave, harder than his throbbing dick was at this moment, but he would do so without an angry or disappointed thought towards her.

But there was no need for him to fear rejection.

“You are taking too long.”, she mumbled while crawling towards, him and reaching out for him.

“I am sorry.”, he breathed now back on the bed with his fingers beneath her chin and lips hovering over hers, “Just enjoyed the view. But now I will enjoy you.”

Immediately his one hand got a hold on the back of her head, his lips ravishing hers, and he guided her back onto the bed.

With gentle rolls of his muscular hips Sy wet his dick with her arousal before entering slowly. With every small thrust, a little moan left Ellie´s throat and soon those were stolen by his lips.

“You feel so good around me.”, he kissed down her jaw and neck, his beard tickling the skin, “Fit me so well. Don´t know how long I will last like this.”

His thrusts became stronger and more erratic with every passing moment, his jaw locked in concentration to last longer all the while his eyes burned with want and adoration before closing in an attempt to delay the inevitable.

“No.”, Ellie moaned, matching his thrusts, “Don´t. Look. Away. Please. I want to see you.”

Her hands moved up the tensing muscles of his abdomen, through the short fluff of his strong chest, over his shoulders, and to the back of his head to pull him into a deep kiss. “Please.”

“Fuck.”, Sy hissed, giving her one last sloppy kiss before staring into her eyes and stilling.

“I am not done with you for tonight.”, he rumbled, “Next time won´t be over this quick.”

“Next- times?”

“You didn´t think I would allow you out of bed now that I finally have you here. Did you? Not sorry to tell you that you won´t be able to walk properly come morning.”, he chuckled turning the two of them so he laid on his back and Ellie was laying on top of him. One hand on each Ass cheek.

“Sy, I need to clean up or I´ll get ill.”, Ellie mumbled a while later all relaxed from her husband's caresses, “Not wanting to, but I need to get up.”

“Time for a shower then.”

.--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--.

Everything hurt in a good way when Ellie woke up the next morning engulfed by warmth and soft hands caressing her skin.

“Morning.”, she whispered relishing the intimacy. Finally, she knew where she stood with her Husband. He did not simply put a brave face on, but that he indeed had feelings for her. Feelings she had feared to have been developed one-sided by her over the weeks. Feelings she had only realized how deep they were the evening prior.

“Good morning Ellie.”, Sy kissed her exposed shoulder, “Feeling good to get up? Or would you like me to get the breakfast to you?”

“What time´s it?”

“Suns up. That´s all you need to know.”, he hummed, “Would you like Waffels, or Bagels, or something else?”

“Surprise me. I´ll go to the bathroom and then help you with whatever you decide.”, she whispered turning around and kissing him on the lips, her fingers playing with his chest hair and ghosting over his nipples.

“As much as I would love to continue last night, you need to eat and drink. And if we start now, there will be no leaving the bed until I fucked you so good you won´t have the strength to do so.”

“If you are not with me in the kitchen in fifteen minutes I´ll come and get you.”, Sy threatened between kisses and got off the bed and left the bedroom in all his glory nakedness and with swaying hips.

“Stop staring at my ass and get ready! Time´s ticking.”, he chuckled however giving an even bigger swing with his ass.

.--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--.

“I will never get tired of seeing you like this. Wearing one of my shirts with nothing beneath, and fucked out hair.”, the man groaned, his voice husky with want, “Fuck. Got me all hard again. How are you feeling now that you are up and walking.”

“A bit wobbly and sore. But after last night I would be more worried if I weren´t.”, she blushed remembering the five times her husband had made her come on his dick. Including the two times they were supposed to clean up under the shower. He, she had learned once again, was a man of focus, and determination, and knew how to use his endurance and endowment. Just the thought of what he had done to her had new arousal gathered between her legs.

“Would you like my help?”, Ellie kissed his shoulder, one of her hands entangling with his and leaning against his arm, while the other moved along his strong back muscles.

“As much as I would love to take you here, bend over the table, the food will be cold until I am finished with you.”, he growled, his dick objected with a few wobbles on its own.

“Who said you have to finish me?”, Ellie whispered against his shoulder blades making her way past him and to the table cleaning it with a cloth and setting it.

The metallic clink of the spatula followed by the heavier sound of the pan being placed on a cork plate to stop the pancakes from burning was all she heard before his hand cupped her mound from behind and the other one of her breasts.

“So wet for me.”, Sy growled into her ear, “Feels so good around me. Gonna call Boss and tell him we won´t be back until Wednesday.”

A shuddering moan left Ellie´s throat when she felt his dick move through her folds gathering some wetness before entering.

“Less. Talking.”, she said between shallow breaths, “More fucking.”

“With Pleasure.”, Sy growled entering her with one swift roll of his hips.

“Gooood. Feel so full.”, she arched her back not even able to try and meet this thrust with how fast he moved trying to sedate his hunger using her offered body. It was so different from the time beneath the shower the night prior. She had felt full then, his body pressed against her back, but he was taking his time then, slow but deep strokes indifferent to the quick but not less deep he was doing now.

“You take me so well. Can´t wait to make you scream my name over and over again today. Fucking and making love to you until you won´t be able to walk anymore and then some more. Come morning there will not be one place in this flat I have not had you on. Do you like that? Hearing me talk about what I am gonna do to you?”

He had felt her walls flutter around him while he talked and he could not believe the luck he had and how their relationship had changed within just one evening.

Had someone asked him 24 hours earlier if he would fuck his wife against their kitchen table, he would have called them insane and maybe even laughed in their face. But here he was, dick deep in his wife hunting his release.

A release that surprised him just as much as the words he hissed against her neck, with how sudden they came.

“Love you.”

Part 14

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[ashbrat488]

Flower In The Desert

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle) Fanfiction

Violet Becker is the daughter of the Major General, and despite her ranking, she refuses special treatment when she gets sent to the middle east in the midst of war. Constantly underestimated her whole life, she finishes medical school and is itching to put her new skills to work. She is left under the command of Edward Syverson who has sworn to her father to protect her. Can he keep his promise or is having to take care of a woman in the middle of a warzone too much for even him?

Started: July 14, 23 Finished: Sept 15, 23

-"Don't talk," he groaned against her breast, grinding against her as his fingers played faster against her pussy. His hands reached under her ass, lifting her up and sinking his cock deep into her wet pussy. "Oh God, Violet..." He hissed quietly, pulling back slightly before thrusting forward, gripping her hips tightly as he began to fuck her roughly, slamming his hips into her over and over again.

Her body trembled as he moved, leaning her against the wall behind her. Her head fell back as he groaned in pleasure, gripping her hip and pumping harder, driving deeper than he had ever before.-

Wattpad link here

Intro Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 EPILOGUE

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Under The Stars and Stripes - One (Capt. Syverson x OFC)

a/n: look at your girl coming up with two multiparters at once!!! i wanted to write something sweet for capt. syverson (who moving forward, i have named luke, fyi), and my partner sort of suggested this (i mean, kinda, he thought it was what i was writing - turns out he was wrong but gave me a v good idea).

pairing: Capt. Syverson x Joanna Blake (OFC)

warnings/content: injuries, medical discussions, age gap (38 + 26), mentions of military service, inaccurate descriptions of physical therapy + military life.

word count: 1.9k

The unforgiving glare of the overhead lights in the medical center cast a harsh radiance over the waiting room. Luke's cerulean blue eyes squinted against the artificial glow in the room, his gaze wandering in search of anything remotely captivating. Opposite him, an infographic poster touted the virtues of physical activity and mental health, a message that seemed incongruous with the knee brace he begrudgingly wore. The irony of contemplating jogging or hitting the gym while nursing a wounded knee did not escape him.

"Luke Syverson?"

He swiveled his head in response to the melodic call of his name. In the doorway stood a woman, her blonde hair secured with a claw clip, a clipboard balanced gracefully in her hand. A warm, friendly smile adorned her heart-shaped face. With a half-hearted wave, Luke acknowledged her.

"Present and accounted for, ma'am."

Internally, he winced at the self-consciousness his response provoked. Rising to his feet, Luke attempted to distribute his weight favorably, minimizing the strain on his compromised leg. A sharp pang shot through his knee, confined by the rigid embrace of the brace. Collecting his crutches, he navigated his way toward the young woman, focusing on maintaining a semblance of grace. The crutches, tools of mobility he had resisted vehemently at home, now betrayed his struggle.

As he drew closer, Luke observed that she was notably younger than he, the realization of his own impending forties sinking in. Her olive-green eyes sparkled, framed by honey-colored strands that cascaded like molten gold. A sun-kissed radiance illuminated her complexion as she beamed at him.

"I'm Joanna. I'll be your physiotherapist moving forward. Let's head to the exam room; we can go over the paperwork together."

Her voice possessed a cheerfulness that could rival a weather reporter or red carpet interviewer. Luke nodded in understanding, trailing behind her as they entered the room. The once sterile lighting had mellowed, casting a more agreeable ambiance.

The examination room emanated professionalism, each piece of equipment meticulously arranged, and charts displayed with precision. Joanna gestured toward the examination table, indicating for Luke to take a seat. Settling into a chair nearby, she balanced the clipboard on her lap.

"Alright, Captain Syverson, let's delve into the paperwork and gain a betterunderstanding of your situation, ok?" Joanna initiated, her focus shifting to the documents before her. 

“Let’s start with the basics, full name and date of birth?”

“Right,” Luke began, “"Full name's Luke Everett Syverson, ma'am. Ain't much use for the middle one, but it's there. I was born April 15, 1968, ma'am, interrupted my ma’s Easter dinner. Home base is Fort Bragg, North Carolina, hence why I’m here in Durham. Otherwise woulda’ probably gone to the centre in Tennessee, closer to where I’m from and all..” 

“You know, I never use my middle name much either, but, just in case there’s two Luke Syversons in the armed forces, gotta include it to make sure I’ve got the right one.,” Joanna nodded her head, humming as she jotted down her notes.

The room embraced a quiet tension as Luke settled onto the examination table, his eyes following Joanna's movements with a mix of curiosity and wariness. The dimmed lighting cast a softer glow, alleviating the clinical starkness of the surroundings. Joanna, her gaze focused on the paperwork, began with a series of routine questions about the nature of Luke's injury.

"So, Luke," she started, her tone gentle yet professional, "tell me about when the injury occurred, and how has the journey been since then?"

Luke took a moment, his gaze drifting to a framed landscape photo on the wall. The distant mountains seemed to echo the weight of his thoughts. "Iraq. Torn ACL," he said, sparing the details but acknowledging the source of his struggle. "Routine patrol, turned into anything but routine."

Joanna nodded, recognizing the understated weight in his words. "I see. That's a significant injury. And you had surgery to correct it?"

Luke shifted his weight uncomfortably on the exam table, nodding his head. “Sure did, m’am, three days ago. Still hurts somethin’ fierce, but I guess that’s what I’m here for.”

He sighed, his focus on the knee brace that had become both a literal and symbolic constraint. 

“To be completely honest with ya, m’am, I just wanna get back on my feet so I can figure out what to do with my life now, you know?”

She nodded, understanding the complex emotions wrapped around his military service and the path to recovery. "Recovery and returning to civilian life is a process, Luke. We'll take it one step at a time. Do you have any idea what you’d like to end up doing in future?”

“I haven’t really thought about it. Never went to college, so a lot of stuff’s off the table now. Plus, I’m getting old. Not sure where that leaves me either. Thought about maybe becoming a police officer or an EMT, you know? I wanted to do that when I was a kid, but then joined the military on my 18th birthday instead.”

Joanna smiled warmly as she made a couple of notes on her paperwork, before continuing to further establish the details of Luke's history, the conversation shifting to one about his daily struggles and the impact the knee surgery had on his life. With each exchange, a bridge of understanding formed between them, an unspoken alliance forged in the pursuit of healing.

In those moments, Joanna glimpsed the man behind the military façade. Luke rarely dwelled on his time overseas, focusing instead on the immediate goal: shedding the brace and moving forward. The physical therapy sessions ahead were not merely about mending a knee; they were about reclaiming a life after two decades of military service.

As the examination progressed, Joanna outlined a personalized rehabilitation plan, detailing exercises and strategies to rebuild strength and mobility. The room, once filled with tension, now held a promise of progress and recovery.

"Alright, Luke," Joanna said, concluding their discussion, "we something to start with at least. Let's work together to get you back on your feet."

With the paperwork completed, the clipboard now resting on the desk, Joanna moved seamlessly into the practical aspect of Luke's rehabilitation. She began guiding him through a series of light exercises designed to gradually rebuild some of the strength in his knee that he’d lost. The atmosphere in the room shifted from contemplative to purposeful as Joanna demonstrated each movement with precision, her instructions clear and encouraging. 

Luke, though initially reserved, found himself following her lead, a quiet determination in his eyes. As they progressed through the exercises, Joanna observed the subtle signs of discomfort and adjusted the routine accordingly, ensuring that the session struck the delicate balance between challenge and progress. The room resonated with the rhythmic hum of therapeutic effort, a shared endeavor toward a future where the weight of the brace would be a distant memory. As the session neared its end, Joanna offered a reassuring smile.

"Great work today, Luke. We'll take it step by step, and before you know it, you'll be moving freely again."

“Thanks m’am, I appreciate it,” Luke replied, a soft smile forming on his lips.

“It’s what I’m here for,” Joanna nodded as she held the door open for him in an effort to make it easier to exit as he hopped on his crutches, “And Luke? I wanna hear that you’ve been using the crutches at home as well, or you’ll just injure your knee further.”

“Yes, m’am,” He chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way out of the clinic.

Later that night, Luke settled into the worn-out couch in his living room, the dim light casting a soft glow across the room. He dialed his younger brother Travis’ number, the anticipation of sharing his day evident in the subtle smile that played on his lips.

After a couple of rings, Travis’ voice came through the phone, lively and teasing.

“Well, well, if it ain't the elusive older brother himself. What's new, Luke?"

"Not much, just had my first therapy session today,” Luke chuckled softly as he took a bite out of his slice of pizza. 

"Therapy? Never thought I'd see the day, Luke. What's the world coming to?"

"It's for the knee, not my sanity, Travis."

"Alright, alright. So, how'd it go, Captain?"

"Surprisingly good, actually. The therapist, Joanna, she's something else. Got me doing all these exercises. Says I'll be back to hiking those Arkansas woods in no time."

“Joanna, huh? Luke, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a little bit of a thing for her. Florence Nightingale effect?"

"You watch too many movies, and besides, idiot, that’s when the therapist falls for the patient. Ain’t gonna happen. She's just good at her job, makes me feel less uncomfortable, I s’pose."

"Sure, sure. So, what's the verdict? She cute? Should I tell the kids they’ve got a new aunt?"

"You'll be waiting a long time for that. But seriously, it felt good, productive. And, she asked me about what I wanna do now. Got me thinkin’ about my options."

"Really? Did she smell the smoke? Set off a fire alarm?"

“Funny. I’m thinkin’ maybe becoming an EMT, you know? Can still help people, use my military training, just…stayin’ stateside and less sand.”

“You did always have a thing for helping people, I’ll give you that. Now, about Joanna…”

“Travis, forget it.”

“I’m just saying, Ma’s 60th birthday is coming up, and you know you’re in for a grillin’ about when you’re giving her grandbabies.”

“She has two already,” Luke protested, laughing as he took another slice from the box of pizza, “Besides,” he said with his mouthful, “I don’t know if I even want kids at this point. I’d be dead by the time they had kids”

“Well, if they take after you, maybe. I had kids at a reasonable age.”

“I s’pose, how are they anyway? Bet ya Hannah’s grown like a bad weed since I saw her last, and Maddie? She was knee-high to a grasshopper last time I saw her.”

“They’re good. Maddie’s almost 5 now, gettin’ quite feisty, like her mama, and Hannah’s taken up cheerleadin’, now I gotta become well-versed in making perfect pigtails in her hair if her mother’s busy with the little one.”

“Better you than me, Trav. Don’t think I could figure out how to do those tiny lil elastics.”

As Luke engaged in a heartfelt conversation with his brother, the echoes of family life stirred a contemplation of his own future. The tales of parenthood shared by his brother left a lingering thought.

 Did he, despite his usual reserved nature, harbour a desire for a family of his own? 

Love and romance had often found him awkward and uncertain, but when it came to showering affection on his nieces, those barriers melted away effortlessly. His musings naturally gravitated towards Joanna, her radiant smile replaying in his mind, illuminating the corners of his apartment like a beacon. 

The playful teasing from Travis planted an idea in his mind, one he never expected to be considering, which prompted Luke to consider whether there might be something extraordinary about his connection with Joanna.

Setting the cordless phone down on the table beside the couch, he sighed heavily, the weight of his newfound solitude settling in as he savored a third slice of pizza. His eyes roamed around the room, the empty expanse of his apartment feeling almost suffocating. The hush of the house, disrupted only by the dull roar of football highlights on the TV, intensified the solitude. In that moment, amidst the quietude, the prospect of companionship and a shared future became a lingering ember in Luke's thoughts.

[sillyrabbit81]

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Sixteen

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Sixteen Summary: Marshall opens up about his past.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 3.1k

Warnings:

Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part Sixteen Warnings: slight angst, discussion of murder and violence against women, smut, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of body fluids, I think thats it

Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne .

So... Been a while... I am really nervous about posting because it has been so long! But I put my big girl pants on and I'm just going to do it. This chapter had to be split in half, which was a small reason for why this took so long to put out, the other part is that I think some of it is a bit dry... Exposition is hard!!!! The next part isn't quite finished but this point was a natural stopping point so I figure, post this and then maybe I won't be so in my head about the next bit.

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Fifteen Part Seventeen

Lori

I woke up with a start.

My heart was beating as fast as a mouse’s and I was sucking in huge gulps of air that failed to fill the hollow in my chest. I was shaking, every muscle and sinew quivering with a chilling thrum, yet I was frozen. I willed myself to move but my glaciated neurons refused to fire, iced over, hardened, ready to snap.

From behind me, a heavy arm moved on my waist and a hand pressed against my belly as soft whiskers and gentle lips caressed and the back of my neck. Relief warmed my blood in a balmy rush, my body thawing in a heady and welcomed surge.

Marshall. It was only Marshall.

“Alright?” he asked, his voice low and rough from sleep.

I hummed, not quite ready to speak. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. Small and generic, its garish neon green digital numerals reminded me that my room wasn’t actually my room and my briefly mollified anxiety inched its way back into my tightening chest.

I’d barely slept, little more than dozed. I wondered if I should get up and shower, but I didn’t want to disturb Marshall. So I laid there and listened to his breathing return to its regular cadence while I tried to recall and hold onto my dream. I might as well have tried to catch a cloud, the memories were wispy vapours, too vague and insubstantial to retain, leaving behind echoing stains of dread and emptiness. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what I had dreamed of. The strange and rapid life changes over the past couple of weeks made it possible for me to push aside the grief from the loss of my parents and focus on other things like my anger at Nate, the shocking revelations about Jake, and the developing situation with the Brothers. I may have made a conscious decision not to dwell and process my emotions, but my subconscious was obviously not on board.

I focussed on the rhythm of Marshall’s breathing, the soft reverberation in his throat on each inhale and the sturdy snugness of his arms while I pushed down the lingering feelings, stuffing them like clothes into a laundry basket, deep into the recesses of my mind. Even as I crammed them away, I knew I’d have to deal with my emotions at some point. I told myself I would, just not today, or tomorrow. Maybe in a month or two. Or three. When I was home again, or alone, or when things were back to normal.

Eventually, the residual fear from my lost dream ebbed and slowly faded while a myriad of new ones took its place. 

Had last night been another mistake on the long list of mistakes I had made. Was Marshall another Jake? Was Sy for that matter?

Sy.

Now that Marshall and I had crossed the Rubicon, would Sy still feel the same way about me when he returned and faced the reality of what he had agreed to? Or, had the existence of the pact forced him to adhere to it out of a sense of bravado and loyalty to the Brotherhood? Had I just turned myself into another groupie, a woman destined for a lifetime of disrespect, deception and disillusion, stupidly thinking that an outlaw, an outsider, a biker, could change for them?

I waited for the gut feeling that I had fucked up by sleeping with Marshall to arrive, but it never came. Of course there were no guarantees in any relationship, but everything that had happened with Marshall had felt sincere and genuine. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Marshall grumbled. His breath was warm against my ear and his gentle accent made me shiver as a heated rush rippled across my skin, soothing and comforting me.

“I thought you were asleep,” I said.

He grunted and shifted his body until he laid on his back. I rolled over, following him and he tucked me under his arm. He glanced with a half smile that I barely picked up in the darkness of the room. I returned it and his grin grew slightly bigger before he laid his head back into the pillows.

“My sleep cycle has been off for years. Never recovered from shift work with the PD.”

I shimmied closer to him, pressing my breasts against his side, resting my thigh across his hips and dipped my fingers into the thick, coarse curls that spread across his chest from shoulder to shoulder. In response, I felt him stroke my arm, the tips of his fingers tracing an invisible path.

“Marshall?”

“Lori,” he replied, one side of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“How did you end up in the Brotherhood?”

His smile vanished instantly and after a couple of passes over my arm, his hand stopped his caress, pausing mid stroke. His eyes sought out mine and I made it easier for him, by laying my chin on his chest, ignoring the way his wispy hairs tickled my jaw.

“There were a series of murders. Women, young women, some still teens. To call them murders doesn’t go far enough, each one was assaulted, tortured…” Marshall trailed off but his fingers began to stroke me again, this time sweeping over my back.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I said.

Marshall grunted and took a deep breath. “It was a long investigation that led nowhere. We had physical evidence, DNA, but no matches in the system and no motives. There were no useful eyewitnesses, no connections between the victims, they were of different racial backgrounds, economic status, from all over the city. We kept hitting dead ends, every lead we had didn’t pan out. Meanwhile, more girls were showing up dead, nearly a dozen and the media were breathing down our necks.”

He scoffed, his lip curled in disgust.

“They can be viscous,” I said, remembering the media circus that followed my parents' death.

Lifting his head, Marshall kissed my forehead before continuing.

“Eventually a name popped up that looked promising, he had been a contact in four of the victim’s phones. No other number had shown up twice, let alone four times. So we started an investigation into him. Found out he was a CEO of a financial institution or an investment bank, I don’t remember which. He was young, one of those prodigious financial wizards that seemed to have the Midas touch. He was famous in the financial world, puff pieces in newspapers, magazines, you know the type?”

I nodded and he continued.

“We’d barely gotten further than collecting basic background on this guy when the case was taken out of our hands by the Feds. I was furious, obviously, their jurisdiction over the case was on a flimsy basis at best. There was nothing I could do about it but wait for news of the investigation. However, months went by and… nothing. No news, no arrests, no more media reports, nothing.”

“He wasn’t the guy?”

Marshall shrugged. “I thought I must have been wrong. After a year, a homeless guy was arrested and charged.”

“So you had the wrong guy, after all?”

Marshall chuffed and shook his head.

“I knew in my gut the man they arrested was a patsy. I looked into it. I talked to some of his friends from the streets and as far as I could tell he wasn’t even in town when the first three victims had been murdered. His friends said he came to the city to attend the funeral of his murdered daughter.”

“No,” I gasped, my mouth covering my hand in shock.

“Yes,” Marshall said, “He was the father of the first victim we found. We had tried to contact him in the early days of the investigation, but he couldn’t be located. By the time he had discovered what happened to his daughter, there had been other victims and it was no longer a priority to find him and rule him out as a suspect.”

I thought about Nate and my father. I had never been privy to the dealings of the club, but you picked things up. The club had a surprisingly low number of members with criminal records and although I had never been explicitly told, I knew it was because the “right” people had been paid off for years. I figured the real killer must have been doing something similar, but on a massive scale.

“So what did you do?” I asked. 

“I took my theories up the chain and requested permission to do my own investigation. I was told in no uncertain terms that if I did that, it would cost me my badge.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Shit.”

“I couldn’t let it go though. I knew I couldn’t investigate alone and I suspected that I might be under surveillance. I couldn’t ask anyone else in the department to risk their job, so I called a guy I trusted. He used to be a bounty hunter but by then was working as a private security contractor.”

“Geralt?” I guessed.

“Geralt,” Marshall repeated. “He used his connections and reported back that there had been rumours floating about this guy for years, from his college days to his early Wall Street days to this case. Reports of domestic violence from women he’d had relationships with and assaults on sex workers that always seemed to be retracted or ignored. Somehow, this fucking guy kept getting away with fucking murder because of his connections.”

He closed his eyes and the muscles of his jaw pulsed beneath his thickly bearded skin. Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes and his voice was husky as he continued.

“When I realised what they had done to that man, that girl’s father… I wasn’t particularly idealistic and I wasn’t naive, but I had never thought that this level of corruption could happen. The Feds, the media, the PD; how many people must be involved, how many people were paid off or blackmailed? Everything I knew, everything I….”

He shrugged and was quiet. I waited, sure he had more to say. But he stayed silent, jaw twitching again and his eyes seemed to glaze over as his thoughts seemed to drift away.

I placed my hand on his cheek, my thumb sweeping along the bone and tilted my head to kiss his chest softly. Marshall’s hand went to my hair stroking my hair off my face.

“I quit. I couldn’t do that kind of work again, not knowing what I knew. I went back to Geralt, thinking with my SWAT background, maybe I’d try private security. Instead, Geralt introduced me to Sy and Walker.”

“What happened to the CEO?”

Marshall’s grin was a little disconcerting as he replied, “He got his in the end. An international financial scandal ruined him. The bank he headed was laundering money for the cartels and he was directly implicated in running the scam. The CIA got him for that one, apparently his reach didn’t go that far.”

“What happened to the father?” I asked.

“Suicide in prison while awaiting trial. It was a fucking joke.”

“I’m sorry, Walter,” I said softly.

His eyes found mine. Blue, deep and clear, they held me and I couldn’t look away. He sighed and shifted his hips. The movement made his thigh brush high between my legs and I became very conscious of the fact that both of us were naked.

The atmosphere changed, the air crackled with an electric anticipation and a heady jolt of lust worked its way down my spine to my core. I wasn’t alone, Marshall breathing became heavy, his nostrils flaring as he drew in each breath and his chest swelled.

His fingertips began to skim over my back again, and my skin broke out in goosebumps as I shivered with pleasure. His burly arms drew me to his chest, the coarse hair tickled my nipples as he guided me onto my back. Blanketing me with his comfortingly heavy body, his weight was concentrated at our hips and effectively pinned me to the mattress. My legs split beneath him, opening myself up in a shameless invitation. He took the hint, and he rolled his hips against me as he kissed me. 

It was like he was a different man; his feral, almost brutal urgency gave way to languid deliberateness. His lips moved down the column of my neck, hands exploring, clasping my ribs as if he wanted to caress not just the flesh, but the bones beneath. Moving with barely restrained greed, he slipped my nipple into his mouth and his teeth captured it while his velvety tongue flicked. His lips were satin, his beard was rugged silk, equally coarse and soft as he kissed and rubbed his cheeks against the sensitive skin between my breasts.

Opening his bearded jaw wide, he took more of me into his mouth than just my pink pebbled nipple. I watched bleary eyed as creamy skin disappeared into his warm mouth and his tongue lashed. My fingers slid into his thick curls, holding him close, begging for more.

I moved a hand down his shoulder and back feeling his dense muscles ripple under my touch. I went lower, down his side and abdomen, a rush of heat surged through me as my fingers found the trail of hair below his navel. I wanted to follow its path, wanted to feel him throbbing just like I was.

Thwarting my plans, Marshall laid warm, wet, kisses down my tummy, and became out of reach. I let out a petulant moan and he grinned, rubbing his beard against a sensitive spot near my hip, making me giggle and squirm out of his grasp. He caught my hip and pushed me down to the bed again in a flash back to his earlier impatience.

“Shh,” he soothed with a wolfish grin.

His hand swept down my thigh, curling under my knee and gently guiding my legs further apart. His kisses started at my knee and moved down the inside of my thigh, heat from his mouth made me shiver and I fell back onto the bed. He got closer to my soaked, throbbing core and I felt his tongue at the crease of my thigh, lapping at the combined wetness there from both my arousal and his release.

I gasped and leaned up on my elbows to watch and his feverish blue eyes were looking up at me from between my legs. My body looked as aroused as I felt, nipples tight and hard, tummy and thighs trembling, my pussy was swollen and glistening with the remains of our previous, furious love making.

Fingers glided over me, thumbs pulling apart my folds, his breath simultaneously warm and cooling against my hot throbbing sensitive skin. A finger teased my weeping core, swirling at my entrance. I was on fire, desperately clenching at nothing, and I could feel evidence of his orgasm leaked from within me.

“Fuck,” he murmured under his breath.

“Marshall,” I said breathlessly, reaching for his shoulders, trying to pull him up to me, “stop teasing me. Just fuck me.”

“I’ll fuck you,” he said, voice husky, almost gone. Then he mumbled something I couldn’t catch against my pussy.

The feel of his tongue prodding my entrance, no doubt tasting himself as he ate me out was so wickedly filthy to me that I was completely transfixed by the lurid eroticism, I’d never experienced anything like it. I could barely hold myself up, but the sight of him practically pussy drunk and groaning was too good not to look at. He growled, his arms wrapped around my thighs and he pushed his face into me, soft prickles of his beard against me made me shake even more and despite wanting to keep watching, I fell back to the mattress.

Suede-like brushes against my clit had me shaking, the tension in my muscles quivering like violin strings. Jesus christ he was amazing, then he sucked softly on my clit, and I was gone, crying out as my hands tangled in his hair, tightening into fists and held him against me. He didn’t stop as I came, his hands moved to my hips, his long fingers splayed across my belly and waist as if he wanted to feel my body move as I buckled.

My hands unclenched, and I shuddered with aftershocks as Marshall stayed where he was, softly licking at my core. I closed my eyes, bathing in the post orgasm euphoria, running my fingers through his hair. He didn’t stop kissing me as he moved up my body and rested a fraction of his weight against me. His hand was warm as he cupped my cheek and covered my mouth with his. I could taste us on his lips and tongue, his beard was soaked too. I was so turned on that after the flavour faded from his mouth, I swept my tongue over his chin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “You taste good, don’t you?”

I hesitated, self-consciousness creeping in and my cheeks burned with embarrassment. Marshall stroked my cheek with his thumb and I opened my eyes and realised that he wasn’t trying to shame me.

“You taste good too,” I said.

He smiled, his lips parting just enough to see his teeth, before he grew a little serious. His hand curled around the back of knee, lifting and opening me again, and he adjusted his body in a way that made me gasp. Poised, and ready, his silky hardness waited, his brows raising just enough to ask the unspoken question.

“Yes,” I murmured.

His mouth was on mine as he slid inside me, our kiss muffling both our moans. We stayed like that, joined and locked together, hungrily swallowing the others whispered words and whimpers. Fingers sought mine, and lacing them together he squeezed, gripping me and releasing me in time with his steady rocking movements.

He knew what he was doing, making sure I could feel every inch of his thick and rigid length, making sure he found that spot that made my breath hitch every time. His breath was coming in harder and heavier, each exhale punctuated by a muted grunt. I couldn’t focus, I had to close my eyes. Fuck, he really knew what he was doing.

“Marshall,” I gasped. I don’t know why I spoke. I was riding close to the edge, any second now and I would fall.

“Yes,” he growled, “Fuck, yes.”

I fell.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

Description: Captain Syverson learnt that the only way to have her was to ask her hand in marriage. So he did just that. And she was all his now, both to hold and to possess.

Pairing: Soft-Dark!Captain Syverson | Sheikha!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Captain Syverson. This is a mature story with dark undertones so kindly browse at your own discretion. Please note that this piece is only a work of fiction that in no way aims to reinforce or propose any stereotypes to any ethnicity or race. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Syverson, he is lowkey messed up, smut with plot (I am sorry), possessive behavior, his obsession with her chastity, naive!reader, size kink, biting (it's Henry and his canines ffs), boob play, manhandling, power imbalance, arranged marriage, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, m!dom, f!sub, he's a man, misogyny, age gap (reader is 20's, Sy is early 40's fight me), he's lowkey intimidating, slight spanking, allusion to bondage, manipulation, slow burn-ish, maybe more dialogue than necessary, p-in-v penetration, corruption kink, no use of 'Y/n'. 

Note: Her father is not the mean Sheikh from the movie lmfao. Reader doesn't even have to be Iraqi, just Eastern that you can TOTALLY imagine yourself as because it's a frickin' story for God's sake! Ps, This blocked me so hard mid-write I nearly abandoned it lmfao, I need a break! 

.

Captain Syverson had always thought the notion of the first touch buzz to be foolish. To quote him in his own words, the electric touch that people claimed their beloved aroused within them was nothing more than a steaming pile of horseshit. 

Until now. 

As his thick and coarse battle hardened hands cupped the side of the tender face of his dear wife, the Captain's thumb darted out to quickly glide across the perfect arch of her cheekbone before it moved down to the bow of her lips, his body combusting into a thousand flames of raw desire. 

Her skin was so tender he feared it may come off if he pressed on it too hard. The structure of her body that adorned her traditional wedding attire seemed so fragile in this moment next to him and in his big old bed that the thought of ever manhandling a thing as delicate as her terrified him. The contrast of her usually confident and intelligent countenance was striking in quality to the humility with which she now offered her submission to him. 

His suspicions against his body and strength increased by the passing minute; he felt petrified to even breathe too easily near her. The fear that it may damage her in some way haunted him and filled his lungs with dread. It was not that she was the most petite thing that he had ever seen or she held resemblance to an adolescent in terms of size or any of that weird shit, no. 

It was instead the way in which her head bowed in just the perfect way so it indicated respect and submission; not so high that it would seem that she was trying to deny him his station but not so low that it became off-putting. It was an acknowledgement to his power in their dynamic; an agreement of a lifetime. 

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

There was simply no way he was going to make it through the night with his sanity intact. 

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

Because even though he wanted to hide this girl so safely in his arms for the rest of his days that not even a harsh breeze would be allowed to touch her, the erratic way in which his boiling blood sizzled its way through his veins, The Captain wanted nothing more than to just turn her around, press her breathtaking face into the mattress and take her over and over until she was swell with his litter. 

Or press his bigger body against hers and take her deep and raw until her mind gave up on consciousness  

Perhaps place her between his own legs and feel her mouth around him until his seed spilled from her nose. 

Maybe make her mount him and slap her ass that he just knew would be perfect over and over to keep her going even when she didn't want to. 

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

And he was determined to try his hand at all of them, and more. 

His eyebrows furrowed just a little when she awkwardly pecked his lips for the fifth time in a straight row and refused to give him more, cringing away when he attempted to deepen the kiss. The girl that giggled and covered her mouth on which her red lipstick had already smudged was a dead leaf echo of the confident and liberal sheikha -prized daughter of the sheikh supreme- that critically watched the foreign Captain everytime he was around with her bright and vigilant brown eyes so full of scrutiny that it made him, a grown man, blush. It wasn't his fault, really. Her eyes had the most attractive gleam of intelligence to them and the black khol that lined them only accentuated their beauty more. 

She had always been so elegant Syverson knew he was a goner the first time his eyes had been granted the pleasure of looking at her. Sat aside her father basking in her confidence, silk scarf draped around her head and body in the most perfect way, a form he could only describe as agreeable always clad in decent clothes, fingers adorning rings with colorful stones and modesty dripping off of every single mannerism of hers. 

How could a man not look twice?

And then not consider looking away utterly blasphemous on account of being unappreciative of such godly beauty?

"I- I do not know how to…" Her accent turned his gears just right. "K- Kiss, Captain" oh. 

Of course. 

Blood rushed to his cock that hadn't throbbed like this in a long time. That was, if it ever had. 

And then his sweet, chaste wife just had to call him Captain.

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

The obedient daughter, who was never afraid to voice her thoughts and outsmart every man who dared stand against her with inadequate knowledge of the debate at hand, had happily bowed down to her father's wish that she marry the charming and noble Captain -to them a warrior who was not afraid to fight for his country; a man truly admirable- after said Captain had asked for her hand in marriage when he had realized that that was the only way to have her. 

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

Sure, it had taken Syverson and his rather daft attempts at impressing her some quick-witted answers and astute responses by a rather critical her to realize it.

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

"Well, ain't that just dandy?" Syverson realizes just how heavy his breathing really is when his words come out gravelly and almost forced. She is unable to hold his eyes for very long so she stares at his chest instead, a most remarkable coy smile across her lips. The fact that she looks every other man with a taught unaffected sternness but has blushed everytime their eyes have met after the wedding just drives him all the more insane. 

Her dark eyebrows furrow as she lightly tilts her head to the side. He has noticed that she has some trouble understanding his dialect. So he caresses her cheek again, this time in a reassuring manner;

"I know you'll figure it out soon. You're a clever lil' thing, ain'tcha?" She looks up just long enough to nod with a meeting of their eyes. 

"Yes, Captain" god, even her way of speaking has softened.

The knowledge that he was the only man in this whole wide world whom she treated like this made him want to worship her with his love and devotion in every way possible. 

Because The Captain was naturally a very possessive man who did not appreciate ran through goods.  

"Alright now, just trust your husband and sit back like a good lil' bride, alright?" It was taking him all of his focus to not just push her back and have his depraved ways with her all night long.

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

"Atta girl," before he leaned back in and brushed his lips against hers just long enough to whisper, "now hush and don'tcha try to keep them pretty lips shut on me" he felt her going breathless against him when his mouth fit against the slot of her parted one perfectly; as though it had been created just for him. 

She did her best to keep up with as much obedience as her modesty would allow her to muster but the sensation of his mouth against hers, the scratch of his coarse beard across her delicate skin, the wetness of his tongue that took its time swiping against her bottom lip and the way that he didn't have to break the kiss to know that she had extended her had in his direction to take a hold of him to deal with the intensity of it all, the sheer desperation with which he reached out his fingers and clutched hers in an affectionate way that also had a territorial tinge to it was all too much for her to handle.

An unfamiliar thrill that she had been a stranger to until this moment began to patter through her bloodstream. Her heart pounded, her sweat glands soaked, her face burnt and her stomach fluttered. 

"Captain" was all she was allowed to whisper in the two second interval the man allowed them to recover their breathing. 

"Well, I'll be damned, darlin'" Syverson husked through rushed kisses as he hurriedly helped her lay down with her attire still intact, both too desperate to strip her and wanting to take her as she was, for tonight she looked the most stunning he had ever seen her. "You're so dang pretty I can't even fathom stayin' off ya now that you're mine" a hush of cold breath rushed past her flush lips as her thick eyebrows drooped upwards in reaction to him dipping his face in the curve of her neck.

"I am all yours to do with whatever you please, my C- Captain" her soft hands flew to grab at his shirt as the foreign sensation of a man's body against her skin sent an electric bolt down her spine. 

His body was heavy above hers as he groaned at her response and grinded his bulge against her covered sex, peppering kisses all over her skin. "God damn, baby. Your mama sure raised you up right, didn't she?" A loud squeak resonated in the air when the new husband simply could not hold back his passion anymore and bit down on the inviting flesh of her shoulder, letting out a stomach churning moan at her taste and squeezing her sides as the smell of her fragrance oils hit his nose. 

"Fuck, baby" it took him all of his willpower and the promise that he could go back for more only easier to part from her. "I can't–" sitting up to kneel over her, Syverson pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it somewhere in the room. "I can't hold back no more" as he leaned back down and placed one hand beside her head to keep himself from suffocating her, the way she looked up at him with wonder, timidity, need, sent a pang of pain to his cock. "Talk to me, darlin'" he gathered her wrists in one hand before placing them above her head, now reaching for the clothed bump on her chest. "You feelin' anything?" A soundless breath left her and she shuddered in such a way that her boobs trembled feverishly. 

"S- Strange… a- and… oh my God!" She had to shut her eyes and turn her head to the side when he suddenly manhandled one of her breasts out of the deep neckline of her wedding night dress. Her hands rushed to cover her chest by instinct but her husband's authoritative swat was much quicker and stronger. 

Syverson chuckled at the defensive gasp she let out, a crazed darkness floating in his eyes as he pinnned her feverish hands out of his way, coarse palm now feeling up her other breast that was freed as he spoke. "Ain't no God 'round these parts tonight, baby. Just me…" His lips enveloped hers in a right and hungry kiss. "'N you" the way she nervously gulped when he pulled back to stare into her eyes only added to the fire in his body. "Say, baby" he trailed gentle kisses down her chin, along her throat and then down to the fluffy cushions of soft flesh dotted with flush, erect nipples in the middle. A surprised cry jutted out of her mouth and her fingernails tried to claw at his hand that confined them above her when he pressed one wet kiss on each nub. "Ain't this just somethin' else?" 

The girl had no idea what possessed her to say what she did, but her hips moved faster than her brain could catch on and her lips worked before reticence could hinder her communication. "I- It is, Captain. T- Thank you" of course she had felt arousal before. Of course she had been wet before. Some of those times she had a certain handsome American Captain to thank for, not that she would ever willingly admit it. But she had never known how to relieve herself of it other than a cold shower. 

Her mother had warned her that not every feeling that transpires in one in times of idleness should be chased and she had listened.

But this was not solitary boredom, this was not a devilish lure, her mother wasn't here and it was her wedding night with a man she was slowly becoming sure she would be able to call her dear husband one day. 

If her husband was kind enough to be considerate about what made her feel what she could only identify as exciting, she deemed it a stupidity to refuse the treatment. 

"Aw, baby" Syverson's hands only part from her breasts so his mouth can greedily latch onto them, his bearded lips pressing all over them before his hand nearly snatches her skirts out of his way since the layers seem to be never ending. "To think that I ain't even begun with ya and you're already thankin' me like a sweet little lady" now his mouth traveled to her stomach and the only word he had for its appearance was perfect. A shudder set in her shoulders when his beard scratched her navel before his teeth softly nibbled away on her skin. 

"W- Would you like me to get up and t- take my clothes off, dear?" God damn.

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

"Hold on now, darlin'" he husked as his fingers caressed her nubs, his hot mouth littering its kisses over her skin further down south. "I wanna take you like this first" the readied rise in the middle of her shoulder blades smoothed out and she settled back into the mattress again wordlessly. "Well now, are you gonna be good and keep them arms up high like a good lil' thing or am I gonna have to tie 'em up?" A drawn out moan sounded from deep within her throat when his chin deliberately brushed against her clothed sex, coarse fingers twirling her nipple between them.

Syverson felt an unconscious clench in the muscles of her thighs upon his words finally registering in her clouded mind. "N- No, I- I'll be good, husband. I promise." 

"Atta girl" he praised in a satisfied tone before letting go of her wrists. 

It was after that that his hands roamed free and wild all over her form. The Captain kissed, sucked, nibbled, pinched, groped, licked and bit all to his desire, the growing moans of his bride only encouraging him further. 

"God damn, if these ain't the sweetest damn legs I've ever seen" Syverson licked away the thread of spit that previously connected his mouth to her now bruised hiphone that he had successfully marked as his territory. The fact that no man had ever seen them and the plan that he made to never let anyone do so either was making his ears hot. His sides were becoming sore with need like he was the virgin. 

"And this– fuck, c'mere" he couldn't hold it back anymore. The Captain had always been an ass man and the fact that he was yet to see his wife's backside was making him mad now. Her yelp morphed into a confused giggle when he bundled her ankles in one of his rough hands, having already rid her of her panties, and easily raised both her legs up until her lower half dangling by his hold on her. "Hmmm, I just knew you had a perfect lil' rump stashed in there" his free hand felt her soft cheeks up before he traced his index finger down her crack, cursing at the way they clenched in defense. Then his depravity got the best of him and he wound his hand back and gave a handful of strong blows to her poor behind that started blushing in an instant. 

"Oh– ouch!" Her next nervous giggle made him raise an eyebrow as he divided an ankle between each hand and parted her legs to look down at her. 

"Think this is funny, do you?" The girl quickly stopped herself nervously. "You know who that's for?" He didn't even mind the giggles, if anything they were rather endearing to him. But the timidity in her eyes was way too sweet for him to pass up. She shook her head no. "Bad little girls who make fun of their fellas, that's who." It was the cock hardening way in which her bottom lip wobbled sensitively that dried his throat. 

A young woman once so strong, all commanding and authorative now exposed in such a submissive manner and completely at his mercy. 

"S- Sorry, dear" he hummed, reaching for the mound between her legs to roughly feel her pussy up in blunt gropes. 

"You can consider those as payback for all them times you thought you could get slick with me in front of my boys just 'cause you were the Sheikh's daughter" her eyes widened and she blushed harder than before. 

"I- I–"

"Yes, you" though Syverson's words were crisp, his kiss on her nether lips was tender and perhaps that was the sole reason why she didn't tear up from being reprimanded when she was so vulnerable and hypersensitive like this. "Thought I'd just forget all that brattin' of yours?" 

She had to hurriedly sit up for that one and reach for his hands affectionately. "Oh, no" the pure care in her eyes made his melting heart feel as though it had risen into the sky. "It was only that you were not my husband back then, dear," she tried to make him understand, aware that there were cultural differences that needed overcoming, "mother said good girls owe it to their husbands to treat every other man with a serious attitude and indifference!" 

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

With a woman who was not only intelligent and gorgeous way past his league but one that respected herself with an unwavering devotion towards her spouse. 

"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed with faux surprise that she did not catch up on, much to his expectation. "So that's what it was all about?" Of course he knew. 

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

She apologetically nodded with sincerity. "I swear, my heart." The translation of the endearment caused for his blood to pump through his ears only harder. 

Syverson gave her a small smile before sighing a little. "Well, you see, darlin', it did still hurt my feelings a tad" her eyebrows furrowed in regret so he added just to rub it in that much more; "got me a bit of pride to keep up, y'know?" 

Now she pouted. "I am sorry, love…" Before a bulb went off in her head and she jumped a little to express her excitement, the action causing her naked boobs to jiggle. "Is there a way I can make it up to you?" There. 

"Why, of course!" Fuck, he sounded more eager than a middle schooler. "You gonna have to show that you can make a good little wife" her cheeks flushed as she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. He continued, aware she was as clueless as a virgin.

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

He wished there was a way to preserve it -her- all as it was.  

"Anything you want, my dear" she replied sincerely as she earnestly pressed his hand that she held to her chest. 

The man swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat as his eyes flickered down to where their fingers were intertwined; the valley of her perfect breasts. 

"Good girl" his voice came out much deeper than usual. "Go on 'n' take it out, then" the bride's eyebrows raised to express her confusion as she tilted her head to the side. 

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

Syverson was getting impatient. "That means my pants, darlin'." He chuckled to lighten the effect of the edge that his tone had held. "I mean, can't exactly make love to ya with 'em on, now can I?" Something pulled taught in her chest and she went to avoid his eyes out of embarrassment. 

"Oh… yes" she was breathless as she reached for his fly, face angled downwards. 

"Yeah…?" He drew it out on purpose teasingly, dipping his own head earthwards to try and meet her gaze cockily. "Yeah, yeah?" The man kept going unrelentlessly until she had no choice but to respond. 

"Y- Yes…" Her nervous fingers slipped over the button of his pants many times but she managed to free him at last. 

"Go on ahead now, sugar" he coaxed sweetly, tone in stark contrast to his intentions. "Take it out and let them pretty lil' hands get a feel" her legs instinctively tried to close due to the shame she felt but her husband's huge body hindered her attempt to somehow cover herself. "Well?"

Her eyes darted up to him from where her fingers gingerly rested against the waistband of his boxers and Syverson suspected that she was about to decline because of the way her mouth moved to let out some phantom words. But when he raised a questioning eyebrow in response, she seemed as though it had reminded her of her place against him and she quickly dipped her digits inside the undergarment to reach for his thumping cock. 

The first feel of her fingertips connecting with his hard skin was… indescribable. It was as though time ceased, stilling everything else with it and he was enveloped into a cocoon of pure sensation. She was everywhere and inside. Her heat filled him to the brim. Each brush of her delicate skin against his rougher one felt like the stroke of the flesh of an outworldly nymph. Shivers of ecstacy cascaded down his lower back and he was floating already. 

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the unfamiliar feeling, the moan that he let out along a whispered praise pulling her back in the moment and away from her recoil. The bride's mind reminded her of her duty to her husband and she used her other hand to hold his clothes away so she could uncover his impaler. 

"Just like that, darlin'. Just like that" one of his hands went to tangle in her hair. "Go on and rub it for me, baby. You're doin' real good" his free hand reached for her own sex that had secreted its natural moisture in reaction to the sensations she was being subjected to. He groaned at the feeling of her warm pussy and squished his finger through her plump nether lips. "Tell me what you see" her own body was getting feverish by the second, hips and cunt trying to shrink in on themselves due to how violating his sense tingling touch was.

"I- It's…" She raked her mind for an appropriate answer. But it was all too much for her to handle; the pressure to impress her new husband, touching him the way he wanted properly, obeying him, submitting to his handling and then dealing with his intense gaze. "V- Very pretty, husband. Thank you" so she played it the safest she knew. 

And the girl could swear she felt him twitch in her palm at that, a pang of pain rising in her wrist as she awkwardly pumped him in a vertical manner. 

"Pretty, huh?" A cunning grin spread across his handsome features as he slipped one finger deep within her folds and being the retired playboy that he was, the Captain easily found her pure entrance. "'N' what about the size?" He could not help but moan at the feeling of her balmy walls clinging to his finger. "Ever seen anythin' like it?" Her thighs quivered as his thumb glided over her folds. 

"N- No, husband" she answered timidly, afraid to bruise his pride with an inappropriate or unsatisfactory answer that may pose a threat to her chasteness.

"That's right" now he began to speed up his intrusion of her insides. "'Cause you're all mine, ain'tcha?"  She quickly nodded, letting out a whine as her eyebrows furrowed at the ache his twisting of one of her nipples caused. "Now tell me," he leaned forward to reach for one of her nubs with his teeth, "did ya ever think you'd land yourself a fella with a cock this big?" He spoke through a mouthful before sinking down on her tender boobs, the tips of his sharp canines digging into the soft cushions of her flesh. 

"N- No…" The girl was gasping as she struggled to keep up with his leaking and twitching cock. "T- Thank you, dear!" She added for good measure despite how overwhelmed she was becoming. 

"Tell me, baby" the man loved how his naive wife's features scrunched in discomfort but she still sped up her fist that was wrapped around his cock because he prompted her to, hoisting himself further up next to capture her lips against his. "Do you think yourself lucky that you get to have this here cock all to yourself for the rest of your days?" He could not help but fuck into her hand at the sight of the spit string dangling by a corner of her bottom lip as it connected to the wad of spit that she had just released on his cock after being ordered to do so. He felt her cringe at the feeling of her fingers touching her own saliva as she spread it over his cock. But her resolve to obey him did not falter even once regardless of how shy or uneasy she felt.

And that was how Syverson knew he had found himself his perfect little homemaker.

"I- I do, husband" her voice nearly broke. "Thank you so much" the fact that all of this was visibly strange and even uncomfortable to her because she was not familiar with any of this… 

The Captain could swear that alone was enough to finish him off.

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

Nobody's leftovers; whole in every sense for the beast to take. 

What could he say? Colonel Syverson's prized son always won, no matter what. 

There was a brighter way of looking at his promiscuous dating history that was in stark contrast to his wife's nonexistent one; it could easily be considered as his physical sacrifice in order to realize and reach his full potential as a man for his future lady's well being as well as pleasure. 

A lady that he had found at last. 

"Say it" his command was heavy and the rough skin of his finger was like gravel against the buttery tissue of her slick walls. "Say that you're the luckiest lil' bride for landin' yourself the best damn dick you could have ever hoped for" she began to subconsciously move her thumb out of sync with the rest of her digits to swipe it over his tip each time her hand rose to his apex and he couldn't believe just how close he was already. 

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

But then again it was impossible for the beast to resist his tempting lamb for very long, wasn't it?

"I- I am the luckiest…" She licked her parched lips needily. "L- Little bride for l- landing myself the best d- dick…" Embarrassment burnt her cheeks but pleasing him was more important a priority to her. "T- That I could've ever hoped for…"

He deeply moaned in satisfaction. "My good girl" a quick peck was given to the tip of her nose. "Now tell me, baby. How ya feelin'?" As if on cue, she clenched around his finger with a moan.  

Fuck, Syverson had never really preferred a clueless woman until now.

He could literally demand whatever he wanted from her and she would believe him out of her naivety. 

His perfect pretzel Princess that he could twist into whatever shape that he pleased. 

Or make her do as he desired, for that matter. 

With no one, not even his wife herself, to question him or his ways.

He loved the thought. 

"... S- Strange… P- Pain… but– hnnn!" Her back arched as she suddenly writhed, nearly going white at the feeling of getting her special spot getting tickled for the first time. It was an ability her husband took a lot of pride in; the  renown that he had held in college for being able to find gspots with his fingers alone. 

"Feels real good too, don't it?" The Captain snickered heavily as he began to rock his hips into her hand, feeling himself nearing the brink. 

"Mmh!" She did her best to respond despite the sensory overload, groaning softly when he forces her band of muscles to expand further by adding another finger to her pussy and repeatedly jabbing her sensitive nerves with their blunt tips, the sound of his skin fucking in and out of her liquids getting louder by the minute. "W- Weird… but…" A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face as she gasped, eyes widening when her spine jolted at a particular wave of pleasure. "M- More, please." 

In the blink of an eye, Syverson had pushed her on her back before crawling up her body like a predator. Before her body could process his fingers leaving her into an orgasm denial, his eager cock was pushing into her. The pained moan that escaped her as her body twisted under his was muffled by his mouth clamping over hers. The Captain grunted as his cock struggled to push its way inside her virgin entrance despite the preparation that he had done. The girl's bottom lip pulled away from the rest of her mouth due to the way he bit down on it to withstand the overwhelming pleasure that sparked everywhere within him.  

"Your wish is my command, my darlin' sheikha." 

Syverson found himself praying for the first time to any god, deity or entity that may be listening; to freeze time right here in this very moment and never set it free again.

For he could stay like this for eternities and beyond; buried inside his dear wife and protectively enveloped in her loving arms that had never held another like she did him and never would whilst she moaned below him in a pained ecstasy, clenching and nearly knocking out as she experienced her first ever orgasm.

.

Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

[littlefreya]

Do you think Syverson would like it if his girlfriend gets a tattoo of his name on her wrist?

Disclaimer: Logan is not Sy’s real name (he doesn’t have one in the film). I came up with this name for him in Lines in the Sand. However, it’s not the same Sy from that story, nor from Feral Collision. :)

Pure cotton candy fluff.

Please comment and reblog 🖤

****

“Now that’s jinxing it, darlin’!” The Captain huffed, displeased at the fresh marking that decorated his girl’s wrist.

A deep frown crested his tanned brow as he inspected it closely, tilting her wrist back and forth.

‘Logan’ it read in big black accented letters. It wasn’t even a good tattoo to begin with. Trashy style, like the one his friends at the unit had. Did she get it at some walk-in studio at the train station? Knowing the reckless imp she is, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“I thought you’d like it…” she answered sheepishly, her voice somewhat vulnerable.

Sy lifted his gaze to meet hers, his big blue eyes softening as he noticed the concern and guilt sufracing her face. Carefully, he cradled her hand between his labour-coarse palms and drew it to his chest.

“Oh, darlin’, don't get me wrong. I love it that you did it for me, but…”

“But?”

“You know what they say about couples who get one another’s names inked, right? They end up breaking up and then you are left with that mistake haunting you for the rest of your life. I don’t want that. I don’t want us ever breaking up…” Sy explained, his voice carrying gently as he took her little palm and brought it to his lips. He kissed each one of her fingers, the bristle of his beard grazing her skin and making her chuckle.

“Is that a wedding proposal?” she jested.

Sy's heart jumped to his throat. For a moment there he wondered if she knew about the ring hidden in his old duffle bag. Looking at her pretty little face, staring at him with fervent anticipation, he considered asking her now, in the heat of the moment. But his impish little love deserved more than a mid-noon proposal.

“Now don’t push it, missy,” he warned playfully and booped her nose. “Now let’s get that tattoo taken care of and put some ointment on it”

[peyton-warren]

Okay sorry last one!

Sy knows that you’ve been ignoring your health. (Brushing teeth, showering, eating properly, sleeping properly) but he’s been pleasing you every chance the two of you get.

Could be because you’re with him or you just have been busy, but you get a toothache and he takes you to the base dentist or a regular dentist. It’s something simple like just a stuck popcorn shell or something like that. Or maybe you pass out. Idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

He decides that if you want to cum again, you have to take better care of yourself. No grinding either. Every time you do, you suck him off while he teases you. Until you take better care of yourself. No orgasms

I might have taken this one a little off the track you set but we got back on it by the end. There is no smut there is a hell of suggestion at the end. I hope this is ok. And its a weeee bit longer than a drabble. Wrote this all by hand in the woods thanks for the prompt that resonated so much with me.

Characters: Gender Neutral reader, Captain Syverson Pairings: Sy x Reader Fandoms: Sandcastle, Henry Cavill characters Word count: 4111 Type: angst, suggestive Warning: 18+. Warnings: blood, Reader injured, discussion of domestic abuse, self depreciation, discussion of mental illness, daddy kink, potential eating disorder, tiny Daddy kink

Summary: Reader has to be taken to the hospital by their new-ish boyfriend Sy. Sy learns some things about his partner that has Reader worried about their future together.

Author's Note: I have no idea how a real ER works, nor proper medical procedures nor hospital policies.  I manipulated them for my own gain here.  Nor do I fully understand how blood sugars work or what the tests doctors use tell them about your eating habits.  Don't come after me if you know how they actually do work. Also thank you to @ellethespaceunicorn for the beta.

Ask Box: Open Masterlist

Banner by me with an assist by @ellethespaceunicorn Dividers by @cafekitsune

Dazed, you blinked your tired eyes open.  

“There they are,” Sy cooed softly, crouching next to you.  

You blinked again, trying

to focus.

He was next to you on his kitchen floor.  You stared up into the concerned blue eyes above you.

Oh right date night.  You two had been cooking dinner. 

“I didn't know you were afraid of blood,” he said with sincerity, no teasing or judgment in his tone.  

“I’m not,” you said defensively.  Then you realized the last thing you remembered was nicking your finger cutting up veggies and then nothing.  “What happened?” You asked.  

“You passed out,” he told you.  “I saw you waver out of the corner of my eye and caught you in time to keep you from hitting the deck,” he told you.  “How are you feeling?”

“Okay?”

“Just okay?  You think you can sit up?” He offered you a hand.  As you placed your palm in his, he carefully helped you into a sitting position, his other arm gently curving around your back, just in case.  “How’s that?” he asked, squeezing your hand.  

“Okay.  I think.”

“I don't like your uncertainty,” he admitted, softly, looking at you with a deeper concern.  “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No!” you shook your head vehemently, hating to cause him or anyone even a hit of inconvenience.  “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine, sweetheart,” he told you.  “You look like you have seen a ghost.  You're trembling and your palm hasn't stopped bleeding. We are going to the ER,” he insisted.  “Even if I have to hog tie you and throw you in the back of the truck.”

“Sy, I’m fine,” you tried again.  

Sy moved from you only briefly to grab a kitchen towel that read “Mama Tried,” and returned promptly to press it to your palm which you just now noticed is covered in blood.  “I didn’t think I cut it that bad,” you admitted.  You were unable to assess the damage before it was covered in flour sack material.  

“You jabbed it in there pretty good just before you went down.”  Sy pulled his phone from his pocket.  “Now are you willingly coming with me to the hospital? Or am I calling the squad?”

You knew your stubborn asshole of a boyfriend wasn't going to back down until you were properly checked out.  After a beat, a silence, just a split second before you were certain he was going to open his phone, you relented.   “Alright.”

He placed a hurried kiss to your forehead as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.  “Good.  Now put your other hand over the towel and I’ll get you to the truck.”

You scoffed at this.  “You are not carrying me to the truck,” you said.  “I’ll get myself out there.  Just get me off the damn floor.”

Sy chucked.  “There’s my sweetheart.  Hold the towel tight,” he insisted just before standing behind you and hooking his hands under your arm and effortlessly lifting you to your feet.  His hand held your upper arm tight as he rounded you and looked intently at your face.  “You al’ite?”

“I’m fine, Sy,” you ground out, done with being fussed over.  

With a single nod, he placed that hand to your lower back and gently guided you to the door. “Easy and gently,” he reminded you.  

“I’ll ‘easy and gently’ you.” You continued to be unhappy with his instance of treating you with such tender care.  You still were not used to dating a decent human being, unsure if you even deserved it.  If he knew how  you really were, maybe he’d throw you away, like all the other partners you had had over the years.

Sy, oblivious of your inner conflict, got you settled into the passenger seat and buckled you in.  “All set, baby?” 

You only nodded, still applying pressure to your cut palm.  He gave you a soft smile and carefully closed your door.  Took him all of two seconds before he was in the driver's seat and starting the engine.  “Let’s get you patched up.”

The drive to the local hospital was over within 20 minutes and was accomplished in silence.  You tried to ignore the new throb in your palm that appeared.  Sy had stopped you once from peeling back the towel by laying his hand over yours.  “You don't wanna do that.”

“I wanna see.”

“No you don’t.  Firstly it'll start bleeding again once you release the pressure,” he used his Captain voice, you knew his military training had kicked in.  “Secondly, I don't need you passing out again when you see it.”

You all but huffed at him.  “I am NOT afraid of blood.”

“You may not be, but you aren't gonna like the looks of that.”

You relented and gave a dramatic sigh.  “Aye, aye, Captain,” you said dryly.

Once you arrived at the hospital, and got through the headache of checking in, the two of you settled in the waiting room. Sy took your injured hand and put it on his thigh, taking over putting pressure on the injury.  You sat in further silence until a nurse called your name, less than 30 minutes later.  Sy kissed your temple and let you take your own hand back.  You both stand and head for the nurse who eyes you 6’4” shadow with suspicion.   “Just them,” the nurse states in a no nonsense voice.

“It's ok,” you reassure her.  “He’s with me.”

“Is he your emergency contact and/or spouse?” she asks you, and your stomach dropped at the thought of going in without Sy.  

“No,” you say in a small voice. 

“But ma’am-”

“Do not,” she cut Sy off.  “Policy is policy.  I don't make it,” she sternly stated.

“You are just the enforcer,” Sy finished for her in a very knowing voice.  

“You got it,” she beamed at him. “Have a seat.  They'll be out as soon as they’re done.”

You gave him a soft smile over your shoulder and mouthed ‘Sorry.’  He kissed your forehead.  “You’re in good hands,” he tried to sound calm for you.  You nodded and followed the scrubbed nurse into the ER.  The door closed behind you with a soft click, signaling it locked.  The nurse led you to a room, flipping the plastic flags over the door to whatever she needs to as you step in.  

“Have a seat on the bed,” she said in a softer tone than she had with Sy.  As she halfway pulled the curtain closed, you settled with your back on the upright position of the gurney.  She clicked at the computer near the bed.  “Laceration on your non-dominant palm.  How did it happen?” she asked, nodding to your hand as she reached for gloves from the rack on the wall. 

“Slipped while cooking dinner,” you offered, leaving out the part where you passed out.  

She eyed you before placing a hand on your wrist.  “Let me take a look.”  

You relinquished the towel which you now realize had a significant amount of blood on it. “Oh geez, I hope he can get that out.”

The nurse’s eyes flit back to your face.  “Who is he?” she conversationally asked.  

“My boyfriend,” you said almost shyly.  This thing between you was still new and fresh, only a few months old.  You were still getting used to using the title for Sy.  

“You live together?” she asked as she put the makeshift bandage back down.  “Hold that again please.”   

You do as you are told.  “No, only been together a few months.” you affirmed.  

She nodded and stripped the gloves from her hands, dropping them into the biohazard trash before turning back to the computer “You are gonna need stitches,” she told you, “but first the doc has to come see you to confirm.”

“Yeah kinda figured that was why my army boyfriend brought me in.  If he coulda handled it himself we wouldn't be here,”  you guessed.  

The nurse pulled a wheelie stool over and sat down near your bedside and looked at you compassionately but no nonsense.  “He the reason you are here?” she asked.  

“Well yeah, he insisted-” 

She shook her head, interrupting you.  “No sweety,” she tried again.  Her name tag/badge read Joy you noticed.  “Are you safe with him?”

Your eyes widened at her meaning. “Yes!” you stumbled over the word, surprised someone would think you are not safe with Sy.  “Absolutely,” you insisted.  “He’d never hurt anyone he cared about much less me,” you defended him further.  

“You have to know how this looks,” the nurse stated.  And you finally put all the pieces together.  “Especially with him being active duty,” she pointed out.  You had heard the rumors that military men were statistically more likely to be the aggressor in domestic violence situations. 

“Not him,” you asserted, trying to think of another way to convince her she had it all wrong.  

Instead she reached out and squeezed your knee.  “It's ok.  I have to ask.  Just a couple more questions and then I'll go get the doctor.”  

You relaxed into the mattress.  “Okay.”

“Do you want your boyfriend back here with you?  I can continue to tell him its policy to keep him out in the waiting room.”

You almost started panicking again at the thoughts that anyone would think anything but the best of Sy.  “No, I want him here please, if I can.”

“Of course you can, especially if he will help you stay calm.” She took a deep breath, holding it for a beat and then releasing it, which you mirrored.  “Will his presence keep you at ease?” Her eyes stared at yours, watching your reaction closely.  

You took another deep breath and nodded.  “Yes please.”  

“Ok sweetie.  If you change your mind, tell me or the doctor you’d like to see ‘Dr. Strong’ and we will get security to remove him from here, okay?”

“I won’t need that,” you assured her.,  “But I’m glad you have that in place for other people to use.  “

She gave you a sad smile. “Unfortunately it's all too common of a situation for us.”  She put her hand on the door handle.  “What’s the boyfriend’s last name?”   

You gave it to her and she nodded.  “I'll go get him now and the Doctor will be with you as soon as he can.”

“Thank you.”

And she was gone.

And you were left alone with your thoughts for a few minutes.  You had never thought so much of as an ill thought about Sy outside of  how obnoxious his snoring was when he’s been drinking and now you felt like you hit the jackpot with Sy.  But also, it felt a bit early to be proclaiming declarations of love.  Sy didn’t seem like the type of man who would ever harm his partner but you had been fooled into thinking the best of others in your past and were proven ---

The door opened and saved you from continuing that thought.  Sy’s face appeared around the curtain with a concerned look as Nurse Joy peeked around him.  “Will be a bit til the doctor will be with you.  Keep holding that towel.”

Sy rounded the bed and sat on the stool the nurse abandoned.  “Thanks,” you said.  “For everything.”

“You are welcome.  Just doing my job.”

And she was gone again, the door closing behind her. “New friend?” Sy asked after that exchange.  

“Something like that,” you affirmed.  

“What’s the verdict?” he nodded towards your hand.  

“Needs stitches,” you stated nonchalantly.  

“And the passing out?” he prompted. 

 You hesitated.  “Oh, ummmm,”   

“You didn't mention that?” he surmised.

“No.”

“Of course not,” he sighed.

You stopped looking at your hands in your lap and flashed your eyes to him.  “What’s that mean?”

Sy just shook his head and laid his hand on your knees closest to him.  “I’ve just noticed you aren't very good at taking care of yourself is all.”  

You get defensive immediately, though this isn't the first time you have heard that from someone else who cared about you.  “I do just fine with that,” you asserted.   

“Then why didn't you mention that to the nurse?”

“Because that's not a big deal,” you attested. “Not as much as bleeding to death.”  You raised your injured hand to illustrate.  “I’m sorry about your towel.”

“I don't give one goddamn about a kitchen towel,” he stated but is interrupted by a knock on the door, drawing both of your attention.  Nurse Joy walked around the curtain with a man in a white coat.  

“Hello here’s Dr. Brock.” 

Sy’s hand squeezed your knee. 

“How are you today?” Dr. Brock asked.  

“Fine outside of trying to filet my palm.  Wait,” you suddenly say.  “I only remember nicking my finger.  When did I slice my palm?” you looked at Sy, and felt the attention of the medical personnel in the room shift to look at him as well.  

“You grabbed for the counter as you passed out,” he simply stated.  

“There was no mention of passing out,” Joy stated, and you realize you had just ratted yourself out.  

“Did you hit your head?” the doctor asked, springing into action to examine your eyes.  

“I don't think so,” you sounded unsure. 

“No they didn’t,” Sy joined the conversation. “I caught them on the way down.”  

Doctor turned half his attention to the attentive boyfriend beside you as he applied gentle pressure around your head.  “Were they out cold?”

“Yes”

“For how long?”  

“At least 3 minutes but it felt like a lifetime,” Sy disclosed.  

Doctor Brock nodded as Joy typed on the computer.  “Let’s get them a CT scan, a CBC panel to start,” he spoke to the nurse who clicked the mouse.  “And a stitch kit for their hand.”  He gave that the briefest of looks and a nod.  “Looks like the bleeding has stopped.  We can take care of that while we wait for radiation to come get them.”

He turned back to you.  “Afraid we are going to keep you from dinner for a bit longer,” he told you.

“It's ok,” you whispered. 

It took another hour, but you found yourself stitched , bandaged, scanned and short a few vials of blood.  You and Sy sat in the room, talking about which fast food to grab on your way back to his place when Dr. Brock and your new favorite nurse returned.  “We have the results from your scan and your blood work,” he told you as he sat down in front of the computer.  Sy’s hand gently squeezed your uninjured hand while the doctor logged in and pulled up your chart.  “Ok,” he paused as he read.  “Your CT scan came back normal.  Nothing unusual in your brain.”

“That's good.”

He nodded as he continued to look at his results.  “There’s a few things in your blood work I’d like to talk to you about.  Your glucose was concerningly down.” 

 “We were in the process of making dinner,” Sy tried.  

“No it was more than just one missed meal,” the doctor told him.

You avoid looking at Sy out of guilt.  ”I may have missed a few meals today.”

“There's only three to miss,” Sy sounded upset, and your stomach flipped.  “How many did you miss?”

“All of them...?” you stated uncertain, again. 

“And the past few days?” the doctor asked.  

You shrugged and looked sheepishly at him.  “A few...”

“Your blood work says more than ‘a few’,” he said sternly but gently.  “And your urinalysis says you are severely dehydrated.” He looked at you.  “How much water do you have every day?”

“Water?” you lamely asked 

“Yes, plain water.  Maybe with some lemon or bubbles in it, but just water?”

“Not much.  I’m more of a coffee kind of girl,” you tried to tell him, aiming for a joke but it falling flat on your audience.

“I’m going to need you to up your intake of water by a lot.”

“For how long?”

“For always,” he looked at you.  “Human bodies need water to survive.” he glanced quickly at the screen before turning back to you.  “How has your depression and anxiety been lately?”  

Well shit.  You looked guiltily at Sy again before answering.  “It's been better.”

“On a scale of 1-5,  l one being the lowest you’ve been and 5 being the best feeling ever, where have you been lately?

Another sideways glance at Sy before answering.  “A 0.5?”

“I see,” the doctor said and typed a few things.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sy asked, sounding more than a little hurt.

The shrug you give him does nothing to remove the look from his face.  

“What can I do for them, Doc?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your face.

You opened your mouth to protest but Dr. Brock beat you to it. “That’s up to them as to what they need. But open communication is a good start.”  That was directed at you.  “And reassuring them they are worth taking care of themselves.”  That was directed at Sy.

“I can handle that,” your boyfriend stated.  

“Glad to hear it.  Nurse Joy will get you your instructions and get you checked out.  You can have your GP pull the stitches in 14 days.  And go over your mental health needs with them too, please.”

You just nodded.  

“Take care of each other.”  And he was gone out the door.  

The ride home was as silent as the ride to the ER but for different reasons.  You felt the anger rolling off Sy.  You were ashamed at having your mental health issues revealed to him in such a manner.  This relationship was still too new and now you were afraid he was going to ditch you and run for the hills.

“You can just drop me at my car in your driveway and I’ll head home,” you surmised you had fully ruined your date night if not your whole relationship.

“What?” Sy sounded confused.  “No.” He pulled his eyes from the road for a second to look at you.  If you weren't wrong, he looked hurt again.  “We are grabbing dinner and then we are gonna talk about what is going on in that beautiful head of yours.”

“Look if you wanna break up with me-”

“What kind of assholes have you dated, sweetheart?” he asked angrily and your mouth audibly snapped shut followed by a soft sniffle.  He DID think you were an idiot and he was going to ditch you tonight.  You knew it.  Trouble was he held you hostage until he returned you to your car.  And the sound of your next sniffle, Sy hit his blinker and pulled the truck into the first parking lot on his right,parking his truck across 4 spots before turning in his seat to look at you, his hand landing on your forearm. “Please talk to me,” he softly said.  “Whatever it is, I'm here.”

“You hate me,” you asserted.   “I’m a horrible person.  And now you know the truth about me.”

Sy’s hand flew up to the ceiling of the truck and flipped the light on and watched you wiped at your tears.  “Did I say any of that?” he asked. “Ever.”  

You shook your head.  “No but you probably are thinking about it now that you know.”

“Know what? That you have a mental illness that makes your life hard to navigate?”

“Yeah.” you sniffled. 

“For fuck’s sake, darlin’, do you know how many of my men have mental illnesses, both diagnosed and not?  And I trust them literally with my life,” Sy tried again, agitation just on the edge of his voice.  He took a breath and tried another time.  “Sweetness, whatever you have going on , I ain't lying when I tell you I’m here for you, for all of it.:”

“But-”

“No buts, gorgeous, you aren't getting rid of me that easily,” he insisted, giving you a small smile, which you did not return.  “Unless you want me to go.  I hope you don't.  You seemed like you were enjoying our evening tonight before your swan dive.” You smiled at that.  “But if you want out, let's talk about that and I’ll try to convince you to stay so I can fix whatever it is you don't like but I do not want out.  I make that call, not you,” he asserted gently.  

You sat in stunned silence for a moment.  All your standard cookie cutter responses to try to convince someone you were a horrible person died on your tongue, leaving you with nothing to say.  

At another beat of silence, Sy grabbed his phone from the center console.  “Do you want pizza or tacos for dinner?”

~~~~~~~~~

Once you were safely at his house with your dinner, Sy left you at the kitchen table as he took an exuberant Aika outside to potty and chase a ball around for a few minutes.  By the time he returned, you had set the table and were in the process of cleaning up the mess you had left on his floor, on his counter, your blood mixed with food that had been left out too long.  

Sy dramatically sighed when he found you trying to one handedly clean everything up.  “Will you stop before you hurt yourself further?”  You looked at him sheepishly.  “But thank you,” he tried instead.  “Thank you for setting the table.”  He took your good hand and escorted you to the table set with two plates, two glasses of water and the only candle you could find in his house and you were fairly certain it was a gift from his mom or sister.  He pulled your chair out for you and you rolled your eyes as you sat down, but you sat down.  “Good baby,” he mumbled into the crown of your head.  “One slice or two?” he asked, chivalrously opening the box for you to see the options available as if you weren’t in the truck when he ordered your usual pizza.  

“You are a dork,” you informed him. 

“Yes, but I am your dork,” he told you, pulling two pieces to put on your plate.  “Since you didn’t eat at all today, you get two.  And you have to eat them all, even the crusts.  And drink all your water too,” he informed you. 

You made a face at him but nodded, agreeing to those terms.  “Okay, Daddy,” you teasingly mutter as you pull a stringy bit of cheese and pop it in your mouth.  

Sy growled low in his throat, a noise you only heard when you did something he liked in the bedroom and you felt your belly heat at finding a new kind of his and one you didn't object to.  You smirked at him as he sat down, your focus now on his darkening eyes. “You wanna play with Daddy, little one?” he menacingly asked you.  You nodded enthusiastically, your ravenous hunger shifting from the pizza to the man in front of you.  

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy.” you started to rise from the table to move towards him.  

“Sit your pretty ass down,” he commanded without raising his voice.  You felt yourself grow hotter at his tone, immediately and unthinkingly settling back into your spot.  “You will eat everything on your plate, or you will not leave this table, am I clear?”   Normally you would balk at such a statement but now you just nodded.   “I need words, little one.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good baby,” he commended.  “You will also drink everything in your glass, do you understand?”  You lost focus, you wondered if this is the tone he took with his men and if so did any of them get turned on as you were right now.  “Hello, pretty baby?” Sy’s voice broke through your wandering thoughts.  

“Yes Daddy, I mean Sir.  I mean Daddy,” you stuttered, unsure what title to use, both seeming fitting at this moment. 

“I see that attention is a problem for you.  So let me try a different approach,” he asserted.  “If you have everything on your plate, drink all the water I give you and take your daily meds if you haven't yet,” he raised a questioning eyebrow at you, knowing you usually packed your medications with you when you came over for date night.  “You can cum tonight.  If you don’t do those things, all you’ll get to do is help me cum, am I clear?”

You swallowed loudly, knowing he was not at all joking in her terms.  “Yes, Daddy.”  And you took a big bite of cooling pizza.

“Good baby.”

General Tag List: @ellethespaceunicorn @littleone65, @mysweetlittledesire, @jvanilly, @identity2212,

@avengersfan25, @foxyjwls007 @gummydummy19 , @cynic-spirit , @rosecentury

HC Tag LIst: @m07belzen, @used-to-be-bourbonwithice, @hawklin, @geralts-yenn @summersong69,

@sillyrabbit81 @mistressmkay

Syverson tag list: @mrsevans90 @wunder-blunder

Please let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) any of them. AND Just cuz I think you'll be interested in seeing it I am gonna tag @deandoesthingstome

[lainiespicewrites]

IT IS MY FAVORITE TIME OF THE YEAR!

AND I HAVE HAD THE COOLEST IDEA!! Dearest friends, writers, and Henry Cavill fans alike, I've got a Christmas writing prompt list for our one and only!

This strike of genius came while singing to "All I Want for Christmas is You" in the shower.

Without further Ado. I present.

A Very Cavill Christmas!

I've got a list of Henry and characters and associated Christmas songs! and starting today! (Decemeber 1st) to the end of December. I'm gonna post a Fic for each character! and I'd love for you guys to participate too! I'm gonna tag a couple writers I know that I think might like to participate. I thought this would be a fun way to start the holidays and get people into the spirit!

HERE IS MY OFFICIAL LIST

HENRY - JINGLE BELL ROCK

SYVERSON - ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU

WALTER - WE NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS

AUGUST - HAPPY HOLIDAYS

CLARK - EVERYBODY'S WAITING FOR THE MAN WITH THE BAG

SHERLOCK - THE CHRISTMAS SONG

GERLAT - HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISMAS

MIKE - BABY IT'S COLD OUTSIDE

GUS - RUN RUDOLPH RUN

NAPOLEON - LET IT SNOW

This is my list! if you don't like or don't agree with some of the songs feel free to change them! But again I'd love for people to share this and do this with me. If you see this and you aren't a Henry Fan you can participate too! Switch it out for a Character you do like and have some fun!

If you do decide to this please tag me and Hashtag your post with #averycavillchristmas so we can find all the posts!!

@shellyshellshell @gummydummy19 @littlefreya @hey-its-roseaurum @angryschnauzer @eloquentlytired @cowboybeepboop @deandoesthingstome

If I've missed any other writers you think may be interested please tag them and reblog so we can get this out there!

[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 22

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: Past Sexual Harassment, Past Physical Violence, Masturbation (M)

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @athenepromachos @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019

Masterlist

Day 204

Leah filled an entire shopping cart with vegetables, cheese, chips and all the fixings for a massive taco feast. That was, everything except the meat. For that, they stopped at a butcher shop on the way back. Sy hadn’t expected for things to still be so domestic after his conversation with Leah over breakfast but he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Sy was sure he’d misheard Leah when she told the man she needed six flank steaks but, as it turned out, it was no mistake. The small army Leah had referred to was not much of an exaggeration. Apparently, they were expecting up to thirty people which was about half the population of Warhorse.

It was a good thing they had taken Caleb’s car instead of his rental. They wouldn’t have been able to fit the multiple cases of beer, wine, juice and soda in addition to the groceries. It was also simpler to leave anything not perishable in the car rather than hull it in and out of the house.

By lunch time, they had finished their assigned task, the flank steaks had been put in the fridge to marinate and the two of them were back cuddling on the couch after eating a few sandwiches.

To Leah’s surprise, in addition to loving fantasy books, Sy was a bit of a history buff. He found a show about some famous British king and, though Leah had never heard of it, the leading men were pretty to look at so she was willing to give it a shot.

After the first episode, Leah began to feel restless. The show was interesting and, let’s be honest, the money shot twenty minutes in didn’t hurt at all, but she just felt like they should have been doing something… more.

“I guess this wasn’t exactly what you were expecting when you flew out here to see me.”

Sy looked down at Leah over her shoulder but with her back to his chest and her gaze stubbornly fixed forward, he couldn’t read her expression.

“What do you mean?” he asked, tightening the arm he had wrapped around her waist while sliding his other hand over her stomach.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, resting her head against his shoulder. “It feels like in the movies the people who get two weeks of romance before they have to go their separate ways spend them having all these big adventures or fucking like rabbits and we’re just sitting at home watching the X-rated version of British history.”

“To be fair, if we’d had X-rated history in school I might have actually learned something.”

Sy’s attempt to lighten the mood didn’t do much good. Leah still chewed the inside of her cheek like it was an olympic sport.

He pulled Leah up onto his lap, stroking his thumb over the outside of her abused cheek.

“Babygirl, when our two weeks are over, we don’t go our separate ways, we go back to Warhorse.” Sy pressed a kiss to her temple, threading his fingers through her hair. “We don’t need adventures while we’re home because we get enough life-threatening missions while we’re away.” The tip of his nose brushed the shell of her ear as he moved to kiss the side of her neck. “And you don’t need to compare us to a Nicholas Sparks movie as fitting as it might seem.”

Busted. She hadn’t expected for him to know what she was referring to but clearly he was well versed in cheesy military romances.

“It’s a book too,” she grumbled.

“Oh?” Sy smirked against her skin, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “Well if it’s a book then we should be following it step by step. Although that Dear John letter might not have the same effect if you hand it to me on base.”

Leah shook her head, slipping from his grasp and moving to stand away with her arms crossed over her chest. “We won’t physically be apart but we won’t be together either. We can’t be so what are we supposed to do then? Am I supposed to sneak into your room after lights out and sneak back before anybody wakes up? Do we go back to how things were before we left?”

Sy pulled her back to him, flipping Leah onto her back and slotting himself between her legs so she wouldn’t be tempted to run again. Okay, maybe she hadn’t run so much as pulled away but he wasn’t letting it happen again. “I wish I had an answer to that, darlin’.” He moved a stray piece of hair out of her face, gazing down at her in such a way that she already knew what he would say next. And for once, it didn’t scare her. “I just know that I love you and that I’m not ready to let ya go.”

“Yeah?” she asked, in barely a whisper.

“Yeah…” He’d never said those words to a woman before and he was suddenly worried he’d spoken too soon.

Thankfully, the cutest little shy smile pulled at Leah’s lips. “I love you too.”

“Yeah?” he repeated, leading Leah to playfully slap his shoulder.

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

Leah felt more than heard Sy’s appreciative rumble. “Yes ma’am,” he growled before sealing his lips over hers.

Her hands snuck up his shirt, exploring the vast expanse of his back. Pinned under his comforting weight, there was no space left between them but she still tried to pull him closer by wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Ignore that,” Sy mumbled when his erection pressed against her covered core. 

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m gonna anyway.”

By some twisted coincidence, breathless moans coming from the television pulled their attention away from each other and over to the screen where the King was being generously served by a woman on her knees.

Sy broke away from Leah’s hold, reaching for the remote and switching the show off. As he dropped back onto the couch, he took a deep breath, grateful for the moment of reprieve before he blew his load in his pants. Before they could get back to what they were doing, footsteps coming from the upper floor alerted them to the time.

“Shit, I need to get the car loaded. Caleb’s gonna be fussing with his hair until the last possible second so he won’t think to do it himself.”

“I should uh… I should go shower.”

Not wanting to draw attention to the little situation he would obviously be dealing with while he was in there, Leah simply nodded and moved towards the kitchen.

“Oh!” Sy looked up towards where Leah stood in the doorway of the kitchen. “Wear something warm and pull out some stuff for overnight. I’ll put it in a bag for later.”

Intrigued, the Captain made his way upstairs to get his clothes. As he walked by the half-open bathroom door, he saw Caleb bent over the counter as he styled his hair, wearing only a towel. With a smile on his face, Sy riffled through his duffle, tossing some clothes on the bed and taking his nicest jeans and henley to change into after his shower.

As he stepped under the spray in the small first floor shower, Sy was still at half-mast. As soon as he replayed the moment where Leah told him she loved him, he was back to granite. He put a hand on the wall and wrapped the other around the base of his cock, giving it a squeeze. There was no time to draw things out, he just needed a clear head for the rest of the night.

Leah might have thought he shut off the show to avoid making her uncomfortable but the truth was that he shut it off to stop picturing Leah on her knees for him. He would wrap that hair he loved so much around his fist and use it to move her head over his shaft.

The water rolled down his back as his muscle clenched with every stroke up and down his length. Sy released a shaky breath when his thumb slid over his tip just right. He slowly repeated the motion a few more times, causing his ass to clench as his hips bucked forward of their own accord.

“Shit,” he hissed, his head falling forward.

Closing his eyes, Sy envisioned Leah’s tongue darting out to taste the beads of precum dripping from his slit. Then her lips would wrap around the head and she would sink down the length of his dick, going further and further each time. Her small hand would work the bottom half of his shaft and when she would be done making him nice and wet, she would take her hand away and sink down until he hit the back of her throat.

Before he even realized he was close, Sy was shooting his load onto the shower wall. A shiver ran down his entire body as a choked moan escaped his lips.

“Holy shit.”

Though his chest was still heaving, Sy couldn’t afford to waste any more time. He quickly rinsed the shower wall and used the available bottle of body wash to clean himself and his beard.

Sy stepped out of the bathroom just as a voice sounded from the second floor.

“Leah, come on we gotta go!” Caleb ran down the stairs with his hair perfectly styled but his shirt not yet fully buttoned. “Where the hell did I put my wallet?”

“Your wallet is with your keys on the table. The car is loaded and the electric cooler is plugged in for the cold stuff. We’ll meet you there.”

That made Caleb freeze halfway through putting his shoes on. “The fuck you are.” He marched back towards the kitchen where Leah sat at the table. “Look, I know you weren’t legal yet but we made a deal when you got that death machine and we agreed you’d never drive it after drinking ever no matter how little and especially not at night.”

Sy didn’t appreciate the raised voice and was tempted to intervene but he knew better than to get in between fighting siblings or to fight Leah’s battle for her. Leah, however, didn’t at all seem phased by her brother’s outburst, crossing her arms and waiting for him to finish his rant.

“Do you have any idea how many motorcycle accidents we get in the ER and what kind of damage the riders get? Broken bones, concussions, road rash… that’s the injuries the lucky ones get. The unlucky ones go straight to the morgue.” 

“Are you done?” she asked, standing and walking around the table.

Caleb looked taken aback by his sister’s calm tone. 

“Sy has a rental car which he can use to drive us but I was thinking we could take the long way there with my bike and stay at the cabin tonight.”

“Oh.” Caleb let out a relieved sigh, wiping a hand down his face. He hadn’t automatically assumed she would be staying the night since the cabin only had one bedroom and they normally just made the half hour drive back so they could each sleep in their own beds. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell like that.” He pulled Leah into a hug, muttering an ‘I love you’ into her hair.

If Sy had to venture a guess, he would say that their open affection came from the unexpected loss of their dad. Caleb was obviously terrified something might happen to Leah as well. And who could blame him considering the things he witnessed every day working in a hospital emergency room?

“Do you ride?” Leah asked once she saw Caleb off.

Sy nodded. “I got my bike license before I got my car license.”

“So… What do you think about riding up together?”

With a sigh, he caught Leah by the hips, pulling her closer. She responded by clasping her hands around Sy’s neck.

“Darlin’, I’m willin’ to put my male pride aside for a lot of things ‘cause I know you’re tough as hell and independent to a fault but I draw the line at ridin’ bitch.”

He was expecting some kind of snappy retort at his choice of words but Leah just smirked.

“Who said you’d be the one ridin’ bitch?”

Now that sounded like an amazing idea. Leah’s bike didn’t have anything for a passenger to hold onto so she would be forced to wrap her arms around him if she wanted to stay in her seat.

“Well if you’re offerin’ so nicely.”

After Leah found her spare helmet and set up a GPS on the front of her bike, they packed their change of clothes in a backpack and set off for the evening. It didn’t take long to realize why Leah had suggested the ride. The fall colors were gorgeous along the open road. As a bonus, Leah’s body was pressed flush against his back, her legs framing his and her gloved hands fisted in his old leather jacket.

Sy was almost disappointed when Leah pointed out the dirt path that led off through the trees. 

“Finally,” Caleb said as they walked in. He was halfway through the back door, holding a stack of what looked like four by fours in his arms. “L I need you to cut up the vegetables while me and Lachlan finish setting up the yard. Camden will be here soon with the stereo equipment.”

Out in the yard, Caleb’s friend was raking the leaves, while Caleb began attaching what Sy now knew to be legs to a table top.

“There isn’t much room in here so we take the legs off the tables when we store them. It also makes them easier to bring in and out of the cabin.”

Leah had obviously realized what he was looking at while she began pulling the vegetables out of the grocery bags.

“Why not just use folding tables?” he asked, taking everything over to the sink to be washed.

“Folding tables are expensive for what they are. Plus they’re often really narrow so my dad custom built three different tables that were the same size and could be attached together with brackets. With a power drill, it doesn’t take much longer to set up.”

Leah was almost done chopping the peppers and onions when the next person arrived, letting himself in.

The man gave a general greeting to the guys who’d come back inside to wash their hands before dropping his bags and moving to stand behind Leah. He put both hands over Leah’s ears and turned to Caleb.

“Why is Leah in the kitchen?” he stage whispered.

Caleb laughed, waving off the man’s concern. “Relax, she’s getting the vegetables ready. No cooking involved, only her scary knife skills.”

“Oh, well that’s fine.” He removed his hands and set them on her shoulders instead. “Hey Killer, welcome home.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek before unpacking his supplies.

“Fuck you, I’m not that bad a cook,” she said, shooting a glare at the older man.

“Says the girl who managed to make a salad inedible.”

“You mix up the sugar and the salt one time…” she grumbled under her breath, looking back towards the cutting board.

Sy couldn’t help but smile at the adorable way she was pouting.

“Why does everyone call you Killer?” he asked, both genuinely curious and wanting to draw the attention away from Leah’s apparently lacking culinary skills.

A blush crept up Leah’s cheeks as she expertly sliced onions into long, even strips.

“It’s not everyone, just the guys who were around while I was in my freshman year of high school.”

“That doesn’t answer his question though,” Lachlan pointed out.

When Leah remained silent, Camden took over.

“One day, while me and our friend Niki were studying at his house, he got a call from Leah’s school asking him to come in because they couldn’t reach Caleb. When we get there, the principal calls Niki in and starts telling him how Leah was getting suspended because she attacked another student. The guy starts going on about how they will have to involve social workers if we can’t keep Leah in line and says that she needs a strong hand to keep her emotional outbursts in check. So Niki pulls me and Leah in and asks what caused the altercation. Turns out, the principal’s son had been calling Leah ‘doll’ despite her telling him numerous times to stop.”

“That’s when Niki asked if I was the only one being punished for what happened which was a stupid question seeing as they knew exactly who his son was and they knew for a fact that he could get away with murder.”

Camden hummed in agreement. “I was pre-law at the time so I gave him some speech about sexual harassment being a gateway to rape and that by not addressing the harassment he was condoning it and fostering a hostile study environment. It spooked him enough that he agreed to drop her suspension. Anyway once we left the school Niki made a comment about how Leah had every right to go Chucky on his punk ass. Killer kind of stuck after that.”

Never in a million years would Sy have guessed that Leah’s nickname would come from ‘killer doll’. In a way, it was kind of brilliant that they would use it as a way to praise her for sticking up for herself.

He remembered how Leah had said she’d isolated herself after their dad had died and realized it was probably a result of that asshole principal threatening to involve social services instead of admitting his own son had done something wrong.

“I’d never seen Niki so angry before,” Caleb chimed in. “When I got home from my midterm he looked about ready to hunt the kid down himself.”

“Still would have been better than Gage being the one to do it.”

“Fuck,” Caleb shook his head, clearly in agreement with Lachlan’s comment, “dad would have brought him back just to kill him all over again.”

When the three men stepped out to unload the stereo equipment, Sy slipped in behind Leah, putting his hands on her hips. “Is it all pet names that make you go serial killer or just doll?”

Leah looked outside, making sure Caleb was still out of earshot before she set the knife down and turned to face Sy.

“I lost my shit that day because he told me that if I wanted guys to notice me I should be a good little doll and only open my mouth when I wanted someone to stick something in it. I didn’t want any of them to worry more than necessary so I never told them.”

“Jesus,” he pulled Leah closer as if wanting to shield her from the memory, “I think that just ruined the word doll for me.”

He rested his forehead against Leah’s, taking a deep breath. 

“That’s okay, I like darling better anyway. Or baby girl, that was nice too.”

Chapter 23

[maggyme13]

Moving above the Underworld - Series Masterlist [Mafia AU]

Ellie just moved into a new flat. Introducing herself to her downstairs neighbor with a cake she did not realize what the future held for her and him. And what had an asshole coworker to do with it?

Warnings: Dubcon, Mafia AU, Forced Marriage, angst, slow burn, SMUT

AN: Please See each chapter for individual Warnings!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

.

.

[kilojulietsierra]

Letters From Home - Syverson x OFC (WWII AU)

I know I haven't posted in for friggin ever, but I am writing. I promise!

This particular one I blame on my current obsession: Band of Brothers (which in case you were curious, yes I have stories in progress for that too) and my constant love for Captain Syverson lol So it's kind not exactly a crossover but it's def inspired by!

Summary: Set during WWII. Noah Syverson like many others joins the Army and volunteers for the paratroopers. Just before he ships out he runs into a girl who asks if she could write him while he's off fighting.

Warnings: 18+ content, no smut but less than appropriate behavior and language, mentions of death, war, nightmares, PTSD, mention of pregnancy, happy ending

~~~~~~~~

Joanna was jogging down the steps of the courthouse, done with her work for the day and her mind already on her plans to go dancing tonight with her friends, and paid no mind to the two men in uniform walking down the street until she ran straight into one of them at the bottom of the stairs.

"Easy there." The one she ran into caught her around her upper arms as she bounced off of him.

She looked flustered as she got her feet under her once again, "Oh geez, sorry." She faltered a little as she looked up at the man still halfway holding her upright, just in case.

"You're alright." He gave her arms a gentle squeeze and stepped out of her way.

Joanna gave each of the men a polite smile, eyes darting between them. Both tall and wide with easy, matching smiles and nearly identical blue eyes. Their uniforms clean, sharp and their posture proud. When she continued on her way she spared one glance over her shoulder to where they had just started walking again.

As for the men they strode on down the sidewalk past the regal old, southern style courthouse and towards downtown. The older of the two glanced back at the retreating girl, "Wasn't that Henry Garrisons little girl?"

The man's younger brother scoffed, glanced back for himself, most folks still referred to her as that simply because compared to her four, older brothers, she was still very much the 'little girl' of the Garrison Family. "Yeah, it was."

"Bet you wouldn't mind bumping into her again, huh?" His older brother gave him a good natured shove.

Noah Syverson gave his oldest brother a shove right back. Not that he'd admit it out loud, but no, he wouldn't.

Luck was on his side because later that night he did just that. Allbeit a little less accidental than the first time. "Well, hello again." Syverson came to stand close behind her at the refreshments table.

To her credit she didn't flinch of anything, just turned to face him with a smile.

"So this is why you were in such hurry earlier?" He smirked down at her, his back straight and his eyes drilling into hers.

"Maybe." She smirked back at him before turning back to the table and accepted a glass of punch. "When do you ship out?"

"Train leaves tomorrow mornin'." He shook his head when the woman behind the table offered him a glass.

Joanna nodded, "Two of my brothers are already over there," Her face was softer, her smile a little less bright. "Where are you headed?"

Sy hadn't really thought out what he might talk to her about, but he hadn't expected it to be the war. He gestured off to one side, silently asking her over to a quieter side of the hall. "First to training. Won't tell us anything 'till after we make it through that."

She sipped at her punch and nodded, "One of the ladies at work said you and your brother both volunteered to be paratroopers."

His smirk grew a little wider, imaging the ladies at the courthouse gossiping about the local young men over the clack of their typewriters. "Yes ma'am. Didn't realize it was town news though."

Joanna had the good, Baptist decency to blush and look the tiniest bit embarassed. "Just gossip for now." Her eyes flicked back up to his, such a pretty, Irish, green. She was smirking again against the lip of her glass as she added, "They won't run it in the paper until y'all jump into Germany."

That got an honest chuckle out of him and he liked the way her eyes sharpened as she gave him the verbal jab.

Joanna Garrison had been in the same grade as his youngest brother, Able, both of them graduating high school just last year. He vaguely recalled the few times he had mentioned the Garrison girl. The one that came to mind just then was how Able had told him about her having to stay late for a week during their ninth grade year. She'd been been made to clean chalkboards as punishment for talking back to a teacher, one too many times. She was spunky.

"So how long have you been working at the courthouse?" Noach redirected the conversation away from himself.

"Just since school. Dad pulled a couple strings to get me in the typists pool while we wait to hear back about college." Mr. Garrison was the Sheriff and a military man himself back in the first World War. Joanna followed up her answer with a question of her own, "Why the paratroopers?"

Syverson sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and thought for a minute. "Everyone says they'll be the first ones in." He knew that wasn't much of an answer but he didn't really have a better one to offer her. "You know where your brothers are?" Noah redirected the conversation away from himself once again.

She must have noticed, but didn't say anything. Instead she gave a slight shrug and scanned the crowd packed into the hall. "Junior is in Italy, Greg was in North Africa somewhere last letter we got but that's been several weeks. Then, uh, Sean is in basic training right now and Connor is waiting for orders."

Sy nodded. Wondered what is was like for the parents and the sisters, or the brothers too young. He wondered what it was like for her to have the brothers she'd grown up with all ripped away and thrown overseas. He tried not to think about his own mother. What it meant for her to have her own sons not only to be leaving for war, but to have volunteered for the hardest and most dangerous profession they could.

"You sure have a lot of letters to write." Sy gave her a grin, sneaking a look at her, up and down, trying to memorize they way she looked standing there in front of him with a kind smile and those pretty green eyes. He wouldn't be any more forward than that. He had no right to be. He barely knew the girl but she was pretty, and smart and he was leaving tomorrow.

"I don't mind." She cocked her head slightly to one side and smiled.

He caught her giving him a once over of her own and had to fight back the urge to push his luck.

There was no need because she added, "I wouldn't mind writing one more."

Sy nearly broke out in a wide smile at her indirect and nearly cheeky offer. Instead he licked his lips and ducked his head, with his back straight and his hands behind his back, he stepped just a bit closer and stood at her side. "Just be sure not to use any big words. Remember, I'm just a simple, country boy."

She smiled and even rolled her eyes, and boy did that please him. Joanna locked eyes with him, "I'll do my best."

~~~

Noah,

I have to admit, I'm nervous to write this letter, I'm not sure what to write at all if I'm honest.

I realize now that we really, hardly know each other at all. I do hope to change that though, and so I will write. Even if i'm not sure what to say.

Hopefully your training is going well. I read an article in Life Magazine this week about Paratroopers; the training you will have to go through and though it sounds hard for certain, I have faith that life on a west Texas ranch has probably prepared you better than some of your fellow soliders.

You'll have to tell me about them. I have to admit I''m curious what all kinds of men you'll be fighting with. What kind of man decides to go and do this dangerous thing?

As far as home goes, it is mostly the same, and I'm sure not nearly as interesting as the training you are doing.

I hope you are well and I hope you are able to write.

Joanna

~~~

Joanna,

I was glad to get your first letter. Don't worry about what to write. I'll be happy to read whatever it is.

I'm lucky to have a pretty girl from back home writing me. I hope I can keep your attention long enough to get more.

We've been told not to write home about much of what we do but I can say the training is hard yet satisfying and we have a good bunch of boys here. From all over. Country boys like me and plenty from small towns and big cities like Chicago, New York and San Francisco.

I'm sorry this letter is so short. Something you should know about me is I'm not a man of many words. But, I promise I look forward to your letters and will write whenever I can.

All goes well, by the time you receive this I'll be an Airborne Paratrooper.

Noah

~~~

Dear Noah,

I was so happy to receive your letter, as short as it was. There's no need to apologize for that. I can only imagine there's much more for you to do there than just write to me.

I ran into your mama in town the other day and she was beyond pleased to tell me about her sons the paratroopers. She's very proud of you. I iamgine we all are here, in our little town so far removed from what you are about to do.

For what it is worth I am very proud of you.

I feel a little foolish telling you that I'm about to go off to the teachers college in Austin. Considering where you are about to be off to. But I do feel much safer telling you than anyone else, that i'm scared I'll find I'm not as smart as some have led me to believe. I guess we will find out. I've also never been so far from home. I realize how silly that sounds in a letter to you, all things considered.

Truthfully I find some strength in that. If you can go across the country, across the sea to the other side of the world to jump out of planes and fight Nazis, well, then surely I can survive a few years at a big, fancy college.

I'll include my address at the dorms so your letters can still find me. I've read that the paratroopers will be shipping out soon. If that's true I hope that you and the boys are strong and brave and as superior as we all believe you to be.

Until your next, Joanna

~~~

Jo,

We are staging in England for now, more training.

I never would have guessed I'd be jumping out of airplanes. It's terrifying but I enjoy it.

The area we are in reminds me a little of home, except much cooler and greener. But the people are friendly and it's farm country. From here Lord only knows where we will go. There's lots of talk but that's all it is for now.

You'll do fine at college, I'm sure of it. I'd rather jump out of a plane with no parachute. I know you'll do well.

I can see you as a teacher. But if you'd been mine you'd probably get sick of trying to get me to pay attention. None of the teachers I ever had were as easy to look at as you, I know I'd have been in trouble.

I don't know how often I'll be able to write after this but I hope you'll keep writing. It will give me something to look forward to, catching up on all your letters.

Noah

~~~

Noah,

College is much different than I imagined. Some days I think I would also prefer jumping from a plane with no parachute. My classes are okay, for the most part. Except for maths, I've never been good at it and to be completely honest could care less. The professor is not my favorite either. That does not help.

I read about the invasion of Normandy in a paper at the Library and I pray that you are well and safe and fighting. It seems to be the only thing people are talking about right now. Part of me will be holding my breath until I hear from you and know that you are safe. As safe as you can be at least.

From what I've heard you were trouble in school to begin with, even with the 'not so easy to look at' teachers we had in our little hometown.

But, I admit I enjoy knowing knowing you seem to think I'm distracting.

Your friend, Joanna

~~~

Noah,

I'm tempted to quit reading the papers because they only make me worry.

You asked me to write and so I will continue to write, until I get a response of some kind.

College has gotten easier, or rather I've settled in I suppose. I've made friends with a few girls on the floor in my dorm. All of them from small, middle of nowhere towns like you and I. They're nice girls and I'm glad I found them.

I'll be going home for Christmas soon and I plan on dropping in on your folks if that's ok.

Will y'all be able to celebrate? Do you even feel like celebrating? Hope to hear from you soon,

Joanna

~~~

Noah,

I think more than anything I'm writing this letter for myself. To say the things I can't say anywhere else.

My brother Gregory has been killed in action.

They notified my parents yesterday morning. Dad called me and had to tell me over the phone.

I've never heard him sound the way he sounded on that call and that nearly broke my heart. Even more than the loss of my brother. Hearing the pain in my fathers voice was so painful I could hardly breath and I feel as though my head is empty. I could not bring myself to go to class today. What's the point?

I'm so angry. I don't even know who I'm angry at. War? Can I be angry at war? I find myself so angry that all I can do is cry. I sob and weep until I feel sick to my stomach and then my head goes all fuzzy and empty again.

I don't know what else to say other than I hope you are okay.

Joanna

~~~

Jo,

I'm sorry it's been this long and I'm sorry to hear about your brother.

I know more than most you see everyday that there are no words. Your brother was a good man and I'm sure a good solider. You should be proud of him and you have every right to be angry. Just promise you will take care of yourelf.

I'm fine. I survived the jump in Normandy and a dozen other engagements since. I was shot in the leg not that long ago in Holland, nothing serious but it got me a scar and a purple heart. It was the stay in the hospital that let your letters catch up to me so I am glad for that.

The way things are going I don't think we'll get much of a Christmas. I hope that you are able to spend the time with your folks and find some peace in that. I

know I haven't been able to write but I do think of you. In the little, fleeting moments those of us on the front lines get. We try not to think about home much, but when I do I think of you. I hope that's okay.

Noah

~~~

Noah,

Your letter was a relief. More than I could have imagined. I'm glad you're okay aside from the new scar.

I leave for home tomorrow morning and won't be back at school until after the New Year. I think the time back home will help but it will be hard.

I'm sorry I don't have much to say this time.

I promise I will write you more when I am home.

And yes that is certainly okay. Reading that you think of me made me smile for the first time in a week. I think of you often and hope to hear from you soon.

Joanna

~~~

Noah,

Merry Christmas!

The holiday has been hard. Church was nearly unbearable with everyone offering condolances. I prayed for you and for the boys. I hope you are all well but especially you.

I went and visited your folks today. I'm sorry, but I hope that's okay. Your mama was sweet and fed me lunch even though I insisted I had just eaten. She told me all about you and your brother the paratroopers. Especially you. She said that I'd like you the best and she'll invite me over for dinner once you're home again. I

didn't mention that we'd been exchanging letters since you shipped off. I'm not quite ready to go back to school yet but I also can't imagine staying home for much longer either.

Can you tell me anything about where you are and what you're doing? If not I understand. I think I might like to know.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Yours Joanna

~~~

Jo,

I've never been as cold as I've been this winter. I can't write much about where we are without the Army blacking it out or pulling my letter all together. Just know that going is hard but we keep going. A couple of my buddies caught me rereading your letters while we here huddled up in a foxhole trying not to freeze to death. They gave me hell and made me tell them all about you.

It took our minds off things for awhile. They're still riding me about it. About my girl I've been keeping a secret.

I know I have no right to think of you that way let alone talk about you that way. But I do, consider you my girl.

Damned if I hope you don't hate me for it.

Noah

P.S. Everyone here calls me Sy, the only time I hear or see or even use my given name is in these letters.

Noah,

It's funny you should say that. Just the other day, in the library, a girl was sitting with us and prattling on about how she was so scared for her boyfriend who was working as a clerk for some officer in Paris and how he told her he might have to go with him to some station close to the front.

I was sleep deprived from studying and on edge and... well I may have snapped a little. Went off about how my boyfriend had jumped into Normandy with the Airborn and was wounded in Holland so her boyfriend could sit safe and sound at some desk and suck on his paper cuts.

I'm not proud of my behavior I admit, but I will admit I feel better knowing you might not be too awful upset with my actions.

Tests are coming up and I think the stress has been getting to me. I'm almost looking forward to the summer just so I can go back to my job at the courthouse typing in the pool. But then, I suppose, I'll just have to go back and finish the second year before I can work as a teacher. I hope that by then you will be home.

Your girl,

Jo

~~~

Jo,

I probably told every guy in my company about what you said to that girl in the library. Every one of them laughed, even the CO. He says I'm a lucky guy. He's right.

We had a rough go here recently but we are somewhere relatively quiet now and we are sleeping with a real roof over our head. When we cleared the town I may have taken the COs advice and sent you a package. It cost me 2 packs of cigarettes to get it mailed so be sure you let me know that you got it.

I don't think we'll be here long but we are trying to make the best of it we can.

Don't be mad but I did get wounded again, nothing major, just a chunk of shrapnel in my side. It tore through my canteen so it didn't do as much damage as it could have. Our doc fixed me up so I didn't have to go back to aid station.

I'm trying to make it home in one piece. I promise. Noah

~~~

His letters were less frequent after that but they still came and she was grateful for each of them.

She had been shocked when the first package of silver trinkets had arrived. There were several of those through the next year. Beautiful hand mirrors, cups, cutlery and once an ornate silver picture frame that had taken her breath away.

Her roommate had watched her open that package and made a snarky comment. "Does your Lieutenant boyfirend have any fellow paratroopers looking to send some spoils of war home to a nice girl from Dallas?"

Jo had included that in her next letter, smirking as she had written it.

Sy had even responded that she should be careful what she wished for.

There was a long gap in his letters after that. Though she continued to write, knowing from experience that if he were alive the Army would eventually get her letters to him.

Finally one came, shorter than nearly all the others. In it he told her he'd been promoted once again, to Captain now, and he had no idea how or why. The way he saw it he was still just a simple country boy from Texas there to do a job.

In her response Joanna had pointed out to him that if she had to guess, the promotions were becuase he did his job and did it well.

She was in her last semester of college when she got this biggest package of loot she'd yet recieved and quite possibly the longest letter he'd ever written her.

Jo, I

don't have the words to describe to you the beauty of where we are now, but I promise you one of these days I'll do whatever it takes to bring you here to see the mountains.

They're something you have to see to believe.

Some of us have never seen anything like this place. It doesn't even feel like we are fighting a war anymore.

We were able to take control of a town, nearly every house in it was packed with fancier shit than we had ever seen. I won't even tell you what it cost me to send this package but me and the boys, we couldn't help ourselves. As always we were the first ones in and there was no chance we weren't taking everything we could carry.

Some letters from my ma caught up to me here and in every one of them she mentions you. You made an impression.

The picture you sent was a pleasant surprise. Just as beautiful as I remember.

Part of me hopes the war is really over and if I could I'd be there in time for your graduation I would. I'm proud of you.

A few of the guys in my company have had a hard time with their girls back home. Letters stop, or worse a letter comes telling them she's tired of waiting. A couple guys have even found out their getting divorced by letter.

I'm grateful for you and your patience. Believe me when I say that when I come home I'll do right by you. God willing that's soon. It feels like it might be.

Noah.

~~~

It's the week of the county fair when Sy finally comes home. HIs older brother is the one that convinces him to put their uniforms on and go to the street dance that night. He wouldn't admit it but he was looking for her the second they stepped out of the old truck. He and his brother had been bogged down by boys and men alike shaking their hands and wanting all the stories. Sy let his brother do most the talking, that's how it had always been, and that gave him the chance to look around.

When he finally saw her she was with a group of girls off to the side, a big group 7 or 8, most the girls hanging on every word some weak chinned little privates were spewing. Not her though, she was sipping her punch and smiling politely, eyes glazed over and a million miles away. Setting his jaw he gave his brother a pat on the back and headed that way.

She didn't notice him right away, not until he came to stand behind the privates and straightened his back. "You boys given these ladies a hard time?" One of them turned around to smart off but they both immediatly snapped to attention and answered, "no sir" Sy nodded his head to the side and they slunk away, defeated. The women fawned and blushed, everyone of them batted their eyes and given him their prettiest smile. Not Jo though, her eyes were narrowed, then flicked briefly back behind her eyelids as she smirked. She did blush after he'd held her gaze a little too long but on her it was the most beautiful damn thing. "Miss Joanna, I was hopin you'd walk with me a bit, maybe let me have a dance."

After they had left the gossiping group of girls safely behind them, Joanna spoke, "I don't know how many letters I wrote you but now I feel like… with you here in front of me I don't know what to say." She chuckled a little at herself.

"You don't gotta say nothin' if you don't feel like it. I'm perfectly happy to just walk with you."

She blushed again, smiled and looked down at the ground, "So am I."

They had walked the length of their little hometowns main street and had turned around again. The music growing louder as they came up to the edge of the crowd. Joanna looked up at him almost shy, "You mean it earlier when you said you'd like to dance?" Sy had pushed her around the street to the next song and his chest puffed out when at the end of that song she had shooed away a young man asking for the next dance, wrapping herself around Sys arm instead.

This song was slower and Sy took the opportunity to finally get her talking. She'd always had so much to say in her letters and he had looked forward to hearing her ramble on the way he knew she would. Thus far she'd been holding back on him. "Y'know I bet I hadn't been home half an hour before my Mama was tellin me all about that good Garrison girl down the creek that had been stoppin' by."

Jo laughed and rolled her eyes a tiny bit, "Is that so?"

"It is." Sy tugged her a little closer, "Tellin me all about how pretty she was and sweet, smart too, sayin' she's just graduated from the teachers college and everything."

"Sounds like a hell of a girl." Jo was fighting back a smile, her cheeks still the half embarrassed pretty pink color they'd been since he'd stood in front of her earlier.

"That's what I said." He was grinning now. "She backhanded me for cussin in the house but she said she's plannin' on inviting this girl to dinner Sunday after church and I better be on my best behavior."

That finally got a real laugh out of her, "And how did Captain Noah J. Syverson take that?"

The song stopped but he didn't let her go, "Like any good southern man would," He paused not able to hold back his smile, "I said yes ma'am" Both of them laughing he guided them out of the crowd to a quieter spot against the brick wall of the bank. He watched her lean back against the wall and tilt her chin up at him smiling and her eyes bright. "God you're gorgeous." He pulled his lip between his teeth and studied her intently, "I was worried, it had been so long maybe I had built up this…fantasy of you, readin' your letters and thinkin' bought you."

Joanna's eyes went wide, her heart pounding all the sudden.

"You're so beautiful Joanna, I mean it."

She shook her head, her words not coming right away and Sy had got the slightest bit nervous, "You called me Jo in your letters." She smiled softly and his nerves settled

Understanding Sy nodded, 'I'd like to come by tomorrow, visit with your folks. Would that be okay?"

"Why you wanna do that?"

Sy smiled, "You've had the last few yaers to get on my family's good side, I got some catchin' up to do."

~~~

He didn't really have that much catching up to do.

When he showed up at the ranch in his uniform with his paratrooper patch, captains bars, jump wings and ribbons, that had been enough for her father. And lord knows every 'yes ma'am' and clumsy wink as her mother refilled his coffee cup was gaining him ground.

Sometimes Jo would get twisted around. They'd been writing like sweethearts for years, but now every time they were together she felt like a silly, little girl. Nervous and blushing. She'd nearly forgotten how tall he was and how handsome. He'd put on muscle too and his face had changed. Not the look of it but his eyes mostly, the way he set his jaw and the way his eyes were a little harder than other boys in town. The ones that hadn't seen what he had.

It felt like they were getting to know eachother all over again, only in person this time. Syverson was a patient man though, and gave her time. He'd known he was gonna marry her from that day in the freezing fucking forest of Bastogne. Swore up and down to himself that if he made it home, he'd marry her.

She came around fast though, got more comfortable with him. Soon she was rolling her eyes at him and cracking jokes.

She was the one that kissed him first even.

They'd gone to the next town over for dinner and when he'd opened the door of his truck for her she turned. Her hands grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to kiss her.

Sy had been nothing but a gentleman those first few weeks but when she pulled that stunt his resolve faltered.

WIth a groan, one hand still braced on the truck door, he wrapped his free arm around her and held her close. He felt the air rush out of her as she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. When she opened her mouth to his he groaned again, nearly a growl, and she gave up the sweetest little moan when he had backed her up against the seat of the pickup truck.

WIth both hands he touched her. Some decent part of him reminding him to keep it together. Only holding her hips or her waist, until one hand vetured up to softly cradle her neck. His touch there made her moan again and this time he felt it in his fingertips.

Finally he pulled back and just looked her over, his thumb under her chin keeping her face tipped up towards his. Her eyes opened slowly and when they did, and met his, she grinned. Biting her lip she tried to look away but he brought her right back. She licked her lips as she fought to hold his gaze.

"C'mere darlin'." Sy watched her eyes slip close and her mouth open before he could even claim her lips again. The way she let him press up against her and nipped at his bottom lip was driving him crazy.

The sound of a slamming car door down the street startled them both but all Sy could do was laugh. Looking over his shoulder to locate the source of the sound before ushering her up into the seat. His broad back blocking her from view he stole one more kiss. "Could do that a long time." He murmured against her lips.

Jo kissed him back but looked a little bashful again. "Yeah?"

Cautiously, he put a hand on her thigh and gave it a squeeze over her skirt. "Mhmm." He took another quick kiss. When he pulled back, looked her in the eye, she was smiling. "I love you, know that right?"

She reached a hand up to his jaw and ghosted her fingers over the scruff of the beard he was growing, "You sure?"

He chuckled, grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm, "Pretty sure darlin'." Sy winked at her and forced himself to step back, close the truck door and walk around to the drivers side.

When he climbed in and pulled his door closed she slid across the bench seat and kissed him again. This time her hand was braced on his thigh and Jo took charge. Sy let her, with a groan and a hand on her waist to keep her steady as she very nearly was in his lap.

By the time Joanna pulled back Sy was trying to catch his breath and his dick was getting hard, so close to where her hand laid on his thigh. Lifting his hand to her face he pulled her back, "Damn baby," He kissed her, sloppy and quick, and pulled her closer. "What's that for?" He swiped his tongue into her mouth, letting her know he wasn't complaining.

Her lips diverted from his and settled near his ear while her hand left his thigh to lay flat against his chest, "Love you too." Then she sat back and stopped touching him entirely.

WIth a groan Noah clenched a fist around the steering wheel and fought the urge to adjust himself in his pants. When he looked at her she was just stilling there, middle of the seat looking pretty and sweet, innocent as could be if it weren't for her swollen lips and flush on her neck and cheeks.

"Not sure if that was you being sweet or bein' real mean sweetheart. But fuck if I didn't like it." Sy laughed and started the truck. He smiled when she laughed too, not flinching at his foul mouth.

She simply slid back and closed the little distance between them on the seat. Settling into his side as Sy started the truck up and draped his arm over the back of the seat and around her shoulders. "You better get off your ass and marry me soon then Syverson."

Sy barked out a laugh, taking his left hand off the wheel to shift the truck into second gear rather than move his right from around her shoulders. Steering properly again he looked over at her, "Oh yeah? Or else what?" He tugged slightly at the end of her braid where it hung long and neat over her shoulder.

"Or else I'll start bein" really mean." She winked at him, before kicking her long legs up on the bench seat and leaning back against him.

Taking his hand off the wheel again to shift the truck up into third as he got them out on the highway, he smiled when he felt her lace her fingers through his and he gave them a squeeze. "Roger that."

~~~

Joanna wiped the ornate, silver frame gently with the rag in her hand. Thinking about how far the thing had traveled and how it had came to be in a little farmhouse in Texas. Taking a moment she looked at the picture in it. Noah in his uniform, pressed and sharp, decked in ribbons, and her in her wedding dress. Her mind wandered and she didn't hear him come up behind her.

His arms wrapped around her waist and his lips landed on her neck, "What you doin' darlin'?"

"Thinkin'."

He kissed her neck again, "'Bout what?"

She set the frame, stolen from some Nazi's home in Austria, gently back on the shelf. "What if I hadn't ran into you leaving the courthouse that day?"

Behind her Sy stood up straight, turned her around and set his hands low on her hips. "What'ya mean?"

"You barely knew me from Adam." She looked up at him, set her now empty hands on his broad chest and appreciated the way he had filled out in the years he'd been home. "If I hadn't come down those steps and bumped into you, we might never have been here."

Sy sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, as he often did when he had to think on his feet, "I'd have seen you at the dance."

"But you'd seen me at dances before. I know it. You never spared a look at a me." She arched her brows and challenged him.

"Now that," He reached down and grabbed a handful of her ass, "Is not true." He drilled his eyes into hers and leaned in close. "I spared you plenty of looks before. You, on the other hand, didn't have the time of day for me 'till you saw me in uniform." He gave her ass a swat this time as he chuckled.

She shoved at him playfully but licked her lips and met his gaze headon, "That…" she started before cracking a laugh of her own, "Is beside the point."

"I knew it!" Sy barked as he grabbed her up by the thights and carried her to the dining table, where he set her down and stepped between her legs. His hands stroking up and down her thighs as he leaned back down to kiss and nip at her neck. Smiling against her soft skin as his beard tickled her there. "All I know," He began still mouthing at her neck before moving up over her jaw and across the apple of her cheek. "Is I'm damn glad it all happened how it did."

Jo smiled against his lips as he kissed her deeply. She smiled even wider as she felt his hands slip under her sweater and his thumb stroke over the very beginning of the swell in her belly.

~~~

If he were honest, her question a bit ago had thrown him. What if she hadn't bumped into him that day?

Given the time to think about it later, with his pregnant wife naked and dozing draped across his chest, her hand resting on the scar in his side. She always paid the most attention to that one, and her fingers always found it as she bregan to drift off.

He wondered if he would have had the guts to approach her at the dance. He liked to think so.

Sy wouldn't ever tell her, but in his mind if she hadn't bumped into him on the courthouse steps that day... well... He might not have spoke to her ever. And when he thought of that he always wondered if he even would have survived the jump into Normandy. Or would he have froze to death in a foxhole without her letters to give his mind a break from the looming dispair.

Would he have been the leader he was if she wasn't on the other side of the world to be proud of him? Would he still have been the man that could charge German lines and command the respect of men enough to do the same?

Possibly worst of all he thought would have been if he had survived the war, but not had her to come home to. Would the nightmares and the lonlieness been too much for him alone?

How could another girl who hadn't been with him through it all understand the way he could stare across the pastures, not really seeing? Would another girl have tolerated the nights laying in bed beside him shivering, his body still thinking he was in that frozen forest? Or the way even now he would still sometimes flinch at a loud noise, expecting and incomming round that never came? Could another girl stand beside him at a funeral of a brother that came home but never really came home?

In her sleep Jo's hand flexed at his side and it brought him out of the spiraling thoughts. Instead he focused on her steady breathing and peaceful face. When he fell asleep that night there were no dreams, just the warmth and comfort of her beside him.

~~~~ The End ~~~

This is the first time I've written for Sy and i'm very attached to it! I have a few other ideas for him floating around so if y'all might be interested sure to let me know!

Thanks for reading!

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Under The Stars and Stripes (Capt. Syverson x OFC)

Luke Syverson has never been one for relationships, the army is all he's ever known. now sidelined with an injury, he's forced to rethink his life, with the help of his physical therapist, Joanna.

one.