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sillyrabbit81 · 2 years

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The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Fifteen

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 Fifteen Summary: Marshall agonises while Lori takes matters into her own hands.

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

Word Count: Approx. 3k

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 Fifteen Warnings: slight angst, mild violence, smut, p in v sex,

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

Been a while since I wrote a sex scene with a character other than Sy! I hope you enjoy it.

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

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Fourteen Part Sixteen

Marshall

Lori sedately followed me as I led her to her room.

I was in no hurry, on the contrary, I would have liked to walk with her for a while, hold her hand and do some of the usual stuff you do with a girl you like. But that's not how this was going to go, not in this situation, so I folded my arms across my chest and kept my pace to match hers.

“Did you get everything you needed with Mike?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said softly, “the packages should be at the post office tomorrow.”

“I'll send Mike to pick them up in the afternoon.”

Her brows furrowed, but she nodded.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I told Mike I was going to hang out with him tomorrow afternoon. But it's not like I'm going anywhere for a while, there will be plenty of afternoons.”

“No. You and Mike can do your thing. I will go and pick them up myself.”

“You will?”

“Sure. You seem to enjoy his company. You smile a lot with him.”

She lowered her eyes and grinned.

“See? Thinking about him makes you smile,” I chuckled. Her face dropped a little. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, but then shook her head, “I was thinking… Have you heard from Sy?.”

“No.” Her frown deepened. “Are you worried about him?”

She shrugged.

“Do you miss him?”

She shrugged again, but with a forced carelessness that made it obvious that she was.

“I’m sure he misses you too.”

We stopped outside the door to her room. She made no move to open her door so I waited, leaning against the wall while she appeared to be thinking.

“What I said to you this morning,” she started, “what I accused you of, it was wrong of me.”

I shook my head. “Your reaction was completely understandable. We were out of line. And considering where you come from, it makes sense that you might see it the way you do.”

She raised her head and her normally steel blue eyes had taken on a dark smokey hue that sent a bolt of energy tingling through my nerves.

“I don’t see it that way anymore anymore,” she said, huskily.

For a moment I let myself entertain the fantasy that I could spend the night with her again without the mellowing effects of weed to kill my most feral instincts. Heat flooded my skin as I remembered the weight of her body against mine, the sweet citrus like smell of her hair, and the softness of her thigh. I didn’t think there was a snowman’s chance in hell that I could sleep next to her sober and not shred her clothes to pieces to get a taste of the silky hidden skin between her legs.

I clenched my jaw as I shut that line of thought down fast. I hadn’t changed my mind from earlier; as far as I was concerned, I was no longer a party to the pact. However, I was not made of stone and I knew my resolution could only withstand so much temptation before it crumbled, so I turned towards my door. Then her hand came to rest on my bicep, her gentle touch halted my escape and my back went ramrod straight.

“Spend the night with me?” she asked, her tone so softly pleading that it took my breath away.

“I can’t,” I said, forcing the words out before I had a chance to say something else.

She withdrew her hand quickly, as if my reply had burned her.

The look on her face made me sick to my stomach. The rejection and confusion marring her dollishly pretty features was almost as bad as the accusatory look of betrayal she had given me that morning.

“You don’t want this,” I explained. “What you said this morning, you were wrong, but you were also right. What my Brothers and I did, what we agreed to, we had no right.”

“You said it was my choice.”

“We did, but we put you in an uncomfortable situation you didn’t deserve and one you don’t want, not really.”

“Oh and this situation,” she moved her hand back and forth between us before placing them on her hips, “is less uncomfortable? Rejection is what I deserve then?”

“Lori,” I said, forcing myself to keep a lid on the frustration that began to boil in my guts, “Do you deliberately misinterpret everything I say, or are you just childishly stubborn on purpose?”

Her jaw dropped and she rounded on me, poking her finger into the centre of my chest, forcing me to take backward steps until my back hit the wall.

“You’re a manipulative prick. All of you are. Was this the plan the whole time then? Playing with my feelings, deceiving me into agreeing to your ridiculous pact and then telling me it was a joke?”

“Lori–”

She pushed me then, her palms bouncing hard off my shoulders, and although it didn’t hurt, it was bloody annoying. I grabbed her hands, turning her in my arms until they crossed over her torso and her back pressed against my chest.

“Let me go,” she yelled while she struggled, pulling and yanking on my arms.

“Calm down,” I growled into her ear, trying desperately not to harden up as she twisted like a kitten trying to get free.

“I’m not your plaything,” she hissed, “You’re supposed to be protecting me or have you forgotten what you’re being paid for?”

“And that’s exactly why I said no. Do you think I don’t want you? Do you not notice how when you’re in the room I can’t look away?”

She stopped fighting, her body was still tense, but she wasn’t thrashing. I dropped my head into her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, my lips brushing against her tender flesh.

“Every inch of me wants you, wants to be inside you,” I mumbled as I my will began slipping through my fingers like sand.

I released her and ran my hands over her body, until they rested against the burning hot skin of her belly where her tank top had ridden up in the struggle. Her hand covered mine and she didn’t stop me as I slid them under the thin fabric. I rumbled out a groan as the soft weight of her breasts filled my hand, and her hard little nipple teased my palm.

“You’re a constant, tormenting, burn in my chest. Right here,” I placed our hands over her heart, “I ache for you.”

She whined weakly, her body melted against mine as she turned her head towards me.

My lips were on hers before I could think. She was soft, warm, and so perfectly lush that my whole body shuddered and I groaned into her mouth. Without stopping the kiss I grasped her waist, guided us blindly to her door, and fumbled with the handle.

Lifting my lips from hers long enough to turn her, I took her to the bed and laid her on her back before capturing her mouth again. Her thighs fell apart beneath me and I spread my legs to make her widen them until I was grinding my trapped and throbbing cock against her heat. She gasped into my kiss and I didn’t hesitate to slip my tongue into the plush warmth of her mouth. I groaned at the taste of her as she kissed me back and sunk her fingers into my beard, nails scratching gently at my cheeks and jaw.

Somewhere in the back of my mind a voice told me to stop, that I shouldn’t take her like this. I lifted my head, trying to swallow my most violent basic instincts while I struggled to find the words I needed to stop this from going any further but my body was too raw and my mind was skirting too close to the edge of reason. Then I felt her move beneath me, her hips rocking, lifting up to meet mine and a greedy feral urge overtook any rational thought.

Fuck it. I was hardly on track for sainthood anyway.

I growled, it's the only way I can describe the animalistic groan I released as pulled her tank over her head. Catching both of her slight wrists, I held them above her head in one hand while the other pulled her jeans and panties down her thighs. She cycled her long lush legs to help me peel her flushed body out of the skin tight clothes.

Below a small short patch of hair, her delicate smooth slit was glistening. As if time had decided to stand still, her legs lazily fell open and she blossomed before me, revealing with painstaking slowness her dewy centre. My cock jerked at the sight, desperate to plunge into that soft and sleek slit.

My fingertip circled her nipple, once, twice, three times, my head pounding as I watched the already pebbled skin grow tighter. She mewled as I took her little pink bud into my mouth; her hips rolled and her arms pulled against my hand while her head fell onto the bed with a long throaty moan. God, that sound made my already throbbing cock so fucking hard, I felt like I could fuck through a brick wall.

“Shh,” I soothed and slipped two fingers into her mouth. Her eager lips wrapped around them and her tongue slid over the pads while she sucked. With a rumble in my throat, I replaced my fingers with my tongue and she reciprocated, hungrily drawing me into her mouth with a torrid pull.

I ghosted my wet fingers over her slit, parting her, making her open for me. Fuck, she felt nice; delicate, small, warm, slick, swollen… just so fucking nice.

Barely able to control the primal part of my brain that screamed at me to completely ruin all that sweet softness, I flipped her onto her chest and lifted her hips until she was on her knees. Her cry of shock hardly slowed me as I clawed at my jeans and lowered them just enough.

“I want to take you like this,” I mumbled as I leaned over her and ran my hand from her hips, down the concave of her waist, and over her ribs until I cupped her breast. My cock nudged against her core and I felt her sharp intake of breath.

“Oh my God,” she whined.

Gathering her thick braid in my fist, I kissed her just below her hairline before turning her head towards mine. She was the perfect picture of a woman lush with arousal; eyes heavy lidded, cheeks rosy, her mouth parted as she panted in shallow breaths.

“Yes,” she whimpered, bobbing her head and chasing my lips.

I let her catch me and she kissed me hard, moaning softly as my tongue met hers. I pulled away but her teeth sank into my lower lip making me hiss and my hips jack. I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“We’ll go slow next time,” I rasped, rising to my knees and I sunk into her molten velvet heat.

“Fuck,” we both groaned as our bodies met.

I stilled, the thrill of being inside her almost too much as she shuddered around me. I swept my hand down her spine to the back of her neck. Her skin was so smooth, supple, and even in this position, with my cock balls deep within her quivering core, she still had that seductive allure of feminine purity that I wanted to take apart piece by painstaking piece.

What the fuck was I doing?

“Shit,” I muttered and started to pull out, “I’m sorry.”

Her hand shot back, grabbing hold of me and sliding down my still clothed arm until her hand held mine.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

All I could feel was the pounding of my heart, from my fingertips to my toes, to my cock. She squeezed my hand while she lifted her head, determination radiating from her fierce, stormy grey eyes.

Then she moved.

Only a small twitch of her hips, but oh God, the tight, silky, slick friction was heaven. The hold she had on my hand grew tighter and she rocked again as a breathy moan floated from her throat.

“Fuck, Lori…” my voice trailed off as she continued the shallow erotic rotations of her hips and arching flex of her spine.

My lust overrode the last of my hesitations and I began countering her movements, rapidly dialling up the intensity until our bodies were crashing against each other. My fingers were digging into her hips while hers were clutching at the covers, our eyes were locked in a feverish hold, neither one of us able to look away.

“Come here,” I groaned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her up until her back rested against my chest. My hands moved all over her, mapping out every soft curve.

She stretched, raising her arms to reach for me, turning my head and searching for my lips. Her kiss surged through my body, every muscle straining, the growing tension inside me had me heading for a release that was bearing down on me like a freight train.

I held her tight, one arm around her chest, my fingers mauling at her breast while the other skimmed over her taut, quivering belly going lower and lower until I brushed her clit. Her hips bucked as she cried into my mouth, and her pussy clamped down so hard on my cock, I almost lost it then and there.

Muscling her into place, I kept her still while I fucked her and worked her clit. She was trembling and her hands floundered, searching for purchase to steady herself as she got closer to the edge. I gathered her wrists in my hand and held them to her chest.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“I know, Lori, I know. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” I whispered into her neck, the skin so hot and humid that it made my lips tingle.

“Marshall… Oh my God…”

“Let go, Lori. I need to feel you.”

I lifted my head and found her striking, heavy lidded eyes. She was flushed, skin reddened and shiny, panting and gasping, she was more breathtaking than ever.

“Look so beautiful.”

Her eyes widened then squeezed closed as her whole body grew taut and she let out a groaning curse.

“Fuck, Lori. Just like that.”

Her body rolled as if she were fighting me off again. I moved with her, keeping my fingers where they needed to be, fighting my own release as hers milked and pulled hard on my cock. It was a futile fight. Just as her body went lax and her head lulled against my shoulder, a hot euphoric pulse worked its way through my body.

Gripping Lori tighter, I pulled her closer to me while I pumped up into her, everything focussed on chasing my impending high. The throbbing rush crashed over me in long heady waves, each tide surging through me into her, filling her up until I had nothing left and fell onto my heels, taking her with me.

The sudden silence of the room was jarring; the only sound came from us catching our breath. Still buried deep within her core, my arms were wrapped around her with one hand cupping the firm flesh of her breast and she rested her weight on my thighs. I was sweating through my shirt, my belt buckle cut painfully into calf, and my boots - I still had my fucking boots on - dug awkwardly into my ankles, but I dared not move. I endured the discomfort to avoid the inevitable crash back to reality. Maybe if I stayed still and held her long enough, I could ward off the impending shame and perhaps Lori wouldn’t come to her senses and regret what we had done.

The dead air stretched on and on. Neither of us spoke or moved and the longer it continued, the more I feared I had catastrophically fucked up.

Then Lori’s hands covered mine and she laced her slim fingers between my thick ones. With some hesitation I rubbed my thumbs over her skin and kissed her shoulder.

“Say something,” she whispered.

I kissed her some more, trailing my kisses up along the ridge of her shoulders to her neck.

“Something,” I muttered.

Lori shook her head with a snicker and leaned back into me, turning her head until she could look me in the eyes. She was smiling, her face beautifully blushing and glowing, errant tendrils of her voluminous hair stuck to her slightly dampened skin. I brushed the stray locks back, tucking them into her braid as best I could.

Sighing, I shifted and Lori got off my lap, and I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down to unlace my boots. I felt her hands brush over the small of my back and she lifted my shirt to place a kiss against my spine.

“I didn’t mean for it to go like this,” I told her, placing both boots neatly on the floor and dropping my jeans beside them.

“Neither did I,” she said, raising my shirt higher until I had no choice but to lift my arms and let her pull it over my head and drop it on the floor next to my jeans.

“Lori,” I said, rotating my body and capturing her cheeks in my hands, staring resolutely into her tempestuous blue eyes, “I don’t regret it.”

Mimicking my position, she raised her hands to my cheeks and replied just as assiduously, “Neither do I.”

From deep within my gut, a warm surge of relief flooded my nervous system, making my spine feel like jelly. Expelling a held breath, I snaked an arm around her back and guided her back to the bed. Climbing on top of her, I covered her with my body and hummed at the feel of her skin against mine.

“This time,” I told her, “we’ll go slow.”

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 3 months

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Part 32 - Whose bed have your boots been under?

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 31 -- Part 33

Pairing: Sy x Alicia (trans!ofc)

Summary: Sy finally takes Liz out on a date! (Which he's late for. And we know why.)

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, anal sex (f receiving), loads of nerves, mentions of transphobia, some angst, there's a horse dildo in there somewhere, Sy not eating a girl out for a change. This one's pretty basic actually...

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: And once again, it's been a while! I've been working on this date for a long time, but I was in a smut-writing-slump for some reason. Looks like I'm out of it now! (Heck yeah!) Now if maybe I could put this energy towards my novels, that would be superduper great, but you know the muse... Finnicky, fickle little fucker. Anyway: Enjoy nervous Sy on a date!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @livisss @sillyrabbit81

@ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos @thelastsock @wa-ni

@proud-aroace-beastie @totalwool

“Couldn’t find a lower cut top to wear?” Dammit.

“I hate that that’s not even the worst opening line I’ve heard,” I say as I look up at Sy. I’m not wearing heels today, so he’s slightly taller than I am. I like it — not that a guy being shorter than me is a dealbreaker or anything… It’s more like… I’m tall for a girl, and that height sometimes makes me feel un-girly, which I hate. So, the fact that Sy is the kind of guy who looks like he could pick me up and throw me across a room… It helps.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He smiles down at me, leaning in for a kiss. I have to admit I was worried about that. All of it. When he texted me after the party, I was just waiting for him to suggest the typical ‘movie at his place’ date, but he asked me where I wanted to go, and there happens to be a Shania Twain cover band playing tonight at a bar I like.

So, I told him we’re going to a bar. Didn’t mention the part about the Shania Twain covers.

“Wanna get going?” I can’t stop my voice from trembling, and I’m sure one look at my face will tell him more than he needs to know, so I turn around and start walking.

“Any particular reason you’re walking a mile and a half away from me?” He catches up with ease, grabs my hand and turns me to face him. “What’s going on? ‘Cause I’m gettin’ the feeling you don’t want to be out here with me.”

I scoff. “Right.” Do I tell him? He puts his hands on my waist and pulls me close. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, and all that heat is making me boil over. “I’m scared you don’t want to be out here with me.”

I’m shaking, and freezing cold and boiling hot at the same time. My heart races in my throat, and I can’t bring myself to look Sy in the eye. I can’t cry. Not here. Not now.

The feeling of his hand cupping my cheek almost pushes me over the edge. “I’m sure you have a reason for feeling that way,” he says softly. I nod — a tiny little nod that I’m not even sure he caught. “Mind telling me what it is?”

Fuck. I screw my eyes shut to stop the tears from falling, but they escape anyway. “I’ve dated guys before,” I mutter. “And they were super-duper okay with me, they said… It actually took me a while to realize — scratch that… A friend had to tell me… It was always their place or mine. Never dinner, or even a movie.”

There’s no stopping these tears now. “When my friend pointed it out, I asked the guy I was seeing about it, and…”

Sy pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me. I inhale deeply on instinct. Leather. Spice. Warmth. “I don’t need to know what he said, because I’m pretty sure it would ruin my entire mood,” he says softly. That he didn’t want to be seen in public with me because he was scared it would make him look gay? Yeah, that’ll ruin your mood, alright… “But I want you to know I like you, Liz. Pretty sure I’d follow you anywhere.”

I’m laughing before I know it. “Well, that’s a good thing… Because I might have omitted a tiny little detail about the place we’re going…”

“Alright… I’ll go get us some drinks! Beer?” Without waiting for his answer — it’ll be ‘yes’ — I turn around and start to walk towards the bar. Try to, at least, because Sy grabs my arm and pulls me back until I’m standing with my back against his chest.

“I remember asking you out on a date, Liz.” His lips are right next to my ear, his beard tickles my neck, it’s… That damn cologne. Those damn, huge, strong hands keeping me pinned to him right now. “This is a date, right?”

“Yeah, Sy. It is. Wha—” He’s suddenly right in front of me, gently backing me into the wall, hands on my hips.

He leans his forehead against mine. “Let me make something very clear, sugar.” He speaks slowly, his voice dark and gruff. The sound of it shoots sparks straight down my spine, and I clench my thighs together. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before any woman of mine pays for her own drink on a date.”

Speaking. That’s a thing. Words are a thing. Do I know any? Voice… Where is my voice? Why am I just staring at him? That’s dumb. This is dumb. I’m dumb. Oh my god, what am I even doing here? “I, ehh…” Yeah. That’s not good. “Okay.”

He smirks down at me. “Beer?”

“Wine,” I manage — but barely.

Sy cocks an eyebrow. “You drink wine?” No. I don’t. But it makes me feel more feminine, and I really need that right now. “I’ve literally never seen you drink wine. Besides, people who drink wine usually tell you if they want red or white.”

“Okay, busted… I wanted to feel… girlier,” I admit.

“You dragged me to a Shania Twain cover band. We’re good on girly,” he says with a wink. “Beer?”

I nod, and semi-anxiously await his return. “You’re not mad about the music?” I ask as I take the bottle from his hand.

He chuckles as he shakes his head before raising his bottle. “To Shania Twain,” he says, “and great company.”

“Thanks so much for coming out, everyone! We’re gonna take a little break, and we’ll be right back!” The singer jumps off the small stage in the corner and makes a beeline for the bar, where she spots me. “Liz! I thought I saw you!” She’s got her arms wrapped around me before I can actually see her — during the first half of the set, the bar has gotten significantly more crowded.

“Hollie!” I love this girl, but if she doesn’t take her eyes off my man right this second, I’m throwing hands. “You’re doing amazing! How’s the cold?” It had her down for a good few days, she wasn’t even sure she’d make it tonight. I’m glad to see she’s doing well.

“Getting better! The full set is tough, though.” She downs the glass of water she’s holding. “We could use a little bit of you after this break, girl. But first, introduce me to this handsome gentleman.”

Is it totally horrible that I don’t fucking want to? I look at Sy, who casually reaches out a hand towards Hollie. “Nate Syverson. Call me Sy.”

“Well, Sy,” Hollie says with a sickly-sweet smile. Or is that my imagination? “What brings you here?”

“Liz,” he deadpans. Much to my surprise, he’s looking at me, barely even glancing at Hollie as he speaks. “She agreed to let me take her out on a date.”

“Lucky man… And you bring her here?” She gestures around the room before giving me the look.

“I dragged him here,” I admit. We go from ‘damn girl, nice! Break me off a piece of that!’ to ‘what the actual fuck were you thinking?’ in a matter of seconds. I look over at Sy — he looks insanely hot, the way he’s standing there, leaning against the bar. “Sorry, again.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, sugar,” he reaches for me, hooking his fingers behind my belt and pulling me back until I’m standing between his legs. Those same damn legs he’s been spreading a little too casually on that damn bar stool. The ones I can’t keep my eyes off. “I like the music.”

When he excuses himself and heads off to the bathroom, Hollie grabs my arm so hard it almost hurts. “You have to sing!”

“What? No!” Actually, yes. I’m secretly dying to get up there: I love to sing. And not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m good.

“Your song’s coming up, girl! I’m not giving you a choice.” Just Hollie being Hollie. “You want him to come home with you, yes?”

Duh. Then why is the gesture I make hesitant as all hell?

“Alright! For our next song, I’d like to invite a very special guest onto the stage… Alicia Thomson!”

Sy’s eyes go wide, and he raises an eyebrow. I take a deep breath. “Well, gotta go!”

I walk up to Hollie, who’s busy adjusting the mic stand. Even in this little bar, the lights are hot. And despite that, my arms are covered in goosebumps. Haven’t done this in a while… I can still see Sy, sitting in the same place as before, his gaze trained on my face with utmost concentration.

One side of my mouth curls up into a cheeky smile. “Whose bed have your boots been under?”

“So,” Sy says when I make my way back to him after the song is done. “You sing.”

“I sing,” I reply, my smile stretching ear to ear. I forgot how great that felt… Not nearly as great as the warm hands that pull me forward by my hips until I’m standing between Sy’s thighs again.

“Woman, you are amazing,” he says with a smile. When he kisses me, it’s like my heart stops. My head spins, my knees shake — the whole nine. He keeps it decent. Why? For the love of God: Why? Words cannot express how much I need this man, literally right now, and — if at all possible— incredibly indecent.

“Wanna get out of here?” Not subtle, but incredibly effective, if I do say so myself. He doesn't even answer me; he just grabs my hand and pulls me along to the exit.

We don't talk during the drive back to my place, or on the walk up to the apartment, which gives my insecurities plenty of time to get the upper hand — especially when Sy doesn't make a move as soon as the door closes, other than wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Are you opposed to watching movies in bed in general?” Dirty smirk? Check. Playful glint in his eyes? Check. Me unceremoniously shoving him against his shoulder? Check. Ugh. Get it together, Liz. And try to maybe not maim your date. He seems fine though.

Instead of answering, I grab his hand and drag him towards my bedroom, stopping right in front of the door as a sudden wave of anxiety grabs me by the throat. Did I clean my room? Did I put everything — and, yes, I mean everything, in that way — away?

“Liz?” He leans his chin on my shoulder from behind, while his hands slowly dance over my hips, fingertips barely grazing me.

“Can I get, like... Thirty seconds? Just to see if there's anything you shouldn't be seeing...”

“And what would I be seeing?” I can’t see his face, but I can hear the grin in his voice. Yeah... What would he be seeing? I hate the way his teasing seems to shut down my brain. I hate the fact that I could tease him right back if I could just find my nerve, even more.

Get a grip, Thomson.

I conjure up a grin and turn my head towards Sy, leaning it back on his shoulder to get my lips as close to his ear as possible. “Equipment of the... mature personal entertainment variety,” I purr softly. I can feel his cock twitch against my ass, and part of me really hopes it's the voice he reacts to, instead of the message. Another part of me, however, kinda hopes he’s into… that.

“Just open the damn door,” he groans, digging his fingers into my hips. “If I don't have more of you in my arms soon...”

Despite all this big talk, I'm still more or less mortified when the first thing Sy comments on is my favorite vibrator. It's on my bed, because it needed to charge. Regardless of whether it's actually done charging... it's done now. I yank it off the charger and toss it back in the drawer under my bed.

Sy chuckles as he drags a thumb over my no doubt crimson red cheeks. “The way you're looking at me right now, all terrified and whatnot, kinda makes me want to take a dive into that drawer...”

“You're not, like... pissed? Or, I don’t know... intimidated?” Wouldn't be the first time.

“Intimidated?” He laughs — the deep, full, throaty kind that men do that's hot and, in this particular case, slightly embarrassing. “Sugar, ain't no way I'm going to be intimidated by a piece of plastic.” He's still laughing when he drops himself onto my bed and rolls to the side by the wall.

Oh, what I wouldn't give to smack that cocky smirk off his face... Maybe I can. I lie down next to Sy and reach into the drawer. “Not even this one?” I wave a whole lot of light blue silicone in his face until he grabs my wrist and looks at the toy I'm holding with wide eyes. He's definitely not smirking now...

“Sugar... Before I even ask any questions...” He blinks a few times as if that's going to magically make the dildo I'm holding up disappear — or at least transform into something that doesn't look like it jumped straight out of my — or maybe his, who knows? — OF subscriptions. “I grew up around horses. I know what that is...”

“Oh my god!” I laugh — no. Cackle. — and hide my face behind my free arm. “Sorry,” I mutter, “I'm a bit of a freak.”

“As long as we're keeping that away from me, I'm good with that,” he chuckles. “Now... Where the hell does that even go? Never mind...” He knows the answer. I know that, because the last time I saw him, I told him there was no way he was ever going to fit in my pussy. And since this thing is bigger than he is by... not even as much as you'd expect, looking at the size of that toy, really... God, the man is massive...

I put the dildo back under the bed and snuggle into Sy's side. I admire the way he just makes himself at home in my room, grabbing the remote off the shelf over my headboard. “Do we go the cheesy romcom route, or do we opt for Mike's favorite tactic?”

“I'm assuming that would be ‘worst horror movie of the century’, then ‘hold her when scared’?” I ask, and Sy nods. “What if I don't get scared?”

“I could pretend to be scared.” He smirks down at me. “But we'd have to switch positions.”

I shake my head. I'm comfortable, lying here with my head on his chest, my leg swung over his. There's one thing missing, though. Blankets. Lots of ‘em!

“It's freezing in here, sugar.” Oh? Really? I hadn't noticed! It's not like I turned the heater off before I left and opened the window... I look up at him like I don't know what he's talking about, but he won't fall for it. “Fucking hell, y'all are somethin' else!”

We get under the covers, and I sigh as I sink into his arms again. “But it's comfy, right?”

He rolls his eyes at me and turns his attention back to the TV. “Horror, romcom or something else?”

“Romcom. Anything Ashton Kutcher is fine by me.” Besides... I was actually hoping we wouldn't be watching most of it because we'd be too busy doing other things. Like making out like our lives depend on it.

Imagine my surprise — and horror — when I see an annoyingly large amount of Ashton Kutcher, and very little of Sy's body. What is he waiting for? An invitation carved in marble? I'm practically on top of him, for crying out loud! This is just rude.

And as if that's not bad enough... “Sugar, would you stop squirming?” he suddenly asks.

“I'm squirming to get your attention,” I huff. “Y'know... so you'll grab me, and kiss me, and we can get to the good stuff? You inside me, to name something...”

He winces when I say it. What kind of man winces at the prospect of sex? Okay, I mean... tons of them, probably, and for all kinds of good reasons... But Sy is known, by and large, as a bit of a slut.

“Hey!” he says, glaring at me when I point that out. “Us sluts get nervous, too.”

“Nervous about what?” Oh my God! “Shit, about what I said last time? I mean... I wasn't kidding, but... Ah. First time, right?” The nod he gives in response is damn near imperceptible. “You know we don't have to go there, right?”

“I, eh... No, that's not... Not that I... Wh— I give up. There's no way to say that in any kind of way that doesn't make it sound like I'm not here for you, but for that, and...”

“The gist of what you're not saying would be that it's every man's dream, right?” I can't hold back my laughter. “Sy, it's okay! You suffered through Shania Twain for me — even though I suspect you secretly love her — and you tell me you like me in public, I know—”

“Is the bar really that low, Liz?” He stares at me with wide open eyes, and I can't think of a single thing to say.

I shrug, tears burning behind my eyes as I barely manage to squeeze the words out: “Yeah. I mean, with guys, it sort of is...”

His fingers trail over my cheek, all the way down until they rest at the nape of my neck, and he pulls me close. “You deserve better.”

I guess we're finally done with Ashton Kutcher for tonight... Sy's lips are warm against mine as he kisses me. It's tender. Romantic. Lacking every bit of the raw, needy passion from the New Years party... I'm sure I'll get to see that side of him again sooner rather than later, though. I can feel in in the way he pulls me in, fingertips pressing into my lower back as he firmly holds my body flush against his.

He's hard — my squirming worked — but there's nothing about him or his behavior that draws any attention to the fact. What a true gentleman.

Sy pulls back and raises an eyebrow when I chuckle out loud. “Not what a man wants to hear,” he mutters under his breath, making me laugh even harder.

“I’m sorry,” I manage between fits of laughter. Am I laughing to avoid having a serious conversation about this? Absolutely! It’s way too early for that. I barely know this guy. That said, the laughter isn’t exactly helping, I suppose, so it doesn’t really matter. “It’s just that you’re trying so hard to be sweet and gentlemanly and I’m over here trying to seduce you and it feels a little… backwards? It’s funny, okay?”

His eyes darken, and when he speaks again, his voice is low and rough. “Ain’t so funny to me, sugar.” If the voice wasn’t doing it, the way he’s squeezing my ass through my jeans right now would. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been dreaming about that pretty mouth on my dick.”

Oh, so we’re playing it like that, all of a sudden? “Including that other thing I did?” I tease. It’s fun to watch his cheeks flush as he tries to keep his composure.

“I’d like to reiterate my disinterest in silicone horse cock,” he says, his voice surprisingly steady. “But otherwise; yeah.”

I look at him for a second too long, and next thing I know, we’re both laughing uncontrollably. “If we keep this up, neither of us is getting laid tonight,” I manage in between fits of laughter.

“Might be for the best…” Hey, what now? I frown — not in an angry way, but in complete and utter confusion. Sy sighs deeply and rests his forehead against mine. “I’m stalling. Under normal circumstances… No, fuck, I didn’t mean— That’s not— All I’m sa—”

He rolls onto his back and groans while I bite back a laughing fit that would most likely make him run.

“Sy,” I whisper, scared that if I speak louder, I won’t be able to control myself, “stop worrying about saying the wrong thing. These are not normal circumstances — well, they are for me, but you know what I mean. You have some leeway in the vocabulary, I promise.”

I take a deep breath and roll on top of him, straddling his hips and sliding my hands under his t-shirt. Don’t feel like laughing now, do you, Thomson? Sy groans when I roll my hips. The way he looks up at me raises goose bumps all over my body. Big hands rest on my thighs, fingers tightening with every move of my hips, squeezing me hard…

My hands are on his chest now, nails digging into his skin, leaving little half-moon marks from the pressure. His eyes are locked on mine, his breathing heavy and quick… As soon as I sit up again, he pulls his shirt over his head, and I follow suit. His Adam’s apple bobs aggressively when he swallows hard, and I smile smugly.

I appreciate being appreciated. Admired. Coveted. And Sy is giving me exactly what I need.

He sits up against the headboard, pulling me in with just two fingers hooked into the waistband of my jeans. Heated moans fill the air as he crushes his mouth against mine, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth while his hands work quickly to undo my belt and unbutton my jeans.

“Could’ve worn one with a zipper,” he growls quietly as he fusses with buttons number two and three. Yeah. I could have. He should be glad they’re not skinny jeans.

The sensation of his warm hands competing with the cold air as he moves them over my waist and the small of my back, is electrifying. To make matters worse — or better — it’s followed by a slow, sensual kiss in my neck. Then another. Then another.

He’s moving, searching, my hands clasping the back of his head, guiding him, until… There. Heady moans escape me with every pass of his tongue over that spot at the crook of my neck, every playful nibble, while every needy roll of my hips earns me a dark chuckle, muffled against my skin. One hand rests on the band of my bra, while the other is draped around my waist, pulling me down while his hand dips into my jeans and squeezes my ass.

Fuck. I need friction. Lots of it. Now! I grind down on him harder, but it’s not working — not like this. There’s too much denim. Too many clothes in general, I—

One simple move of his hand and my bra snaps open. Damn, he’s good. I sigh, my breath quivering with disappointment as his mouth leaves my neck and travels down my sternum.

Sy's barely had his mouth on my nipple for ten seconds when a sudden, harsh bite makes me whimper. “Take these fucking jeans off,” he growls, pushing me back with force. He takes care of his belt buckle with one hand. Why is that hot? “And everything else, too.”

Moments later, we’re naked, pressed up against each other, every atom of space between us one too many. I used to hate being naked — I still do, occasionally, but right now, with him… It’s wonderful. My hands roam over his chest, down his abs, exploring his body. I teasingly run a finger down the length of his cock, and he shivers, moaning into my mouth as we continue making out. It’s his turn to grind against me with burning need and impatience, and I chuckle.

It’s a powerful feeling to have a man want you this bad.

His hands linger on my ass, his touch switching between punishing and demanding, and hesitant and shy.

“You’ll have to, at some point,” I tease. He knows what I mean.

“I—” The end of his sentence is an adorably helpless, clueless look as he shrugs.

It’s a good thing I don’t mind taking point for educational purposes, or else this whole thing never would have worked out. Behind my back, I grab his wrist, and bring his fingers up to my lips. He gets the hint, biting his lip as I suck his fingers into my mouth, his cock twitching against my stomach.

I reach down between us and wrap my fingers around his hard length, while Sy very slowly and very gently eases a finger into my ass. I resist the urge to chuckle when I see his eyes go wide. Sy’s face doesn’t usually have subtitles, but I can see every thought going through his head right now in quick succession.

“I said it would fit,” I say, “not that you could ram it up there within ten seconds, no problem. Just take it easy, take your time.”

“Is it— I mean, does it…” His voice trails off into a desperate moan when I trail my thumb over the underside of the head of his cock.

“Feel good? Yeah it does.” I push back against his finger a bit. I’m five seconds away from begging him for more, faster, harder, deeper, anything… The feeling of the tip of a second finger teasing me gets my hopes up, but he stops.

“Do you have any lube?” he asks carefully.

It takes everything I have to not roll my eyes. Not only do I think that stupid questions do exist, I also firmly believe they deserve an equally stupid answer. “No, I was planning on taking this entire thing up my ass completely dry,” I snap a little too sourly as I squeeze his cock, making him groan. “Believe me, neither of us want that. That’s how you end up in the ER.”

I can barely reach my nightstand from this position, but I don’t really want to move away from him. Finally! I triumphantly pull the bottle out of the drawer. “Here you go! Don’t ration it.” He laughs when I wink at him.

He takes the advice to heart, coating his fingers in a very liberal amount of lube. I continue stroking him as my heart flutters in anticipation. My stomach is sticky with precum — his too, probably — and every stroke draws another deeply sexy moan from him while he explores me with two thick fingers, moving them as if he’s searching for some— Ah! Right.

“Wrong angle,” I moan against his skin, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

I push his hand away and lift my leg up to his hip. Sy understands immediately, reaching between my legs to continue what he was doing.

“Found it,” I say, smirking up at him when he’s found the right spot. I abandon my attempt to continue the sort-of-handjob I was working on. We both need to focus right now.

One of the best things about Sy is that he seems happy to put his ego aside for the sake of learning. He’s not insulted by instructions, and he takes advice to heart. I’d say I appreciate it, but it’s really more of a hard requirement to even get into my bed — it's been quite a while since I last wasted my time on silly little boys who don’t listen when I clearly spell out to them what feels good and what doesn’t.

Sy is a quick study, too, and I’m squirming in his arms in no time, breathing heavily against his neck, with my arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Don’t change a thing,” I moan. Pressure steadily builds inside me, and I know an earth-shattering orgasm is within arms reach, and all he has to do is keep. going. “I’m so close…”

Every perfectly steady stroke of his fingers winds me tighter and tighter until I snap. A sharp his escapes Sy when I dig my nails into his back and bite his shoulder. It’s the only thing I can do to keep myself from screaming as every fiber of my being unravels around his fingers.

He lets me catch my breath for a moment, then he looks at me, unsure how to proceed.

“One more, to be sure,” I say weakly, not entirely recovered yet. I’m pretty damn relaxed, so I don’t expect much trouble. Indeed, the next finger slips in without a hitch. Good. “Wanna give it a try?”

He nods furiously, catching himself in the act and calming down immediately to a tougher, more laissez-faire attitude. I can’t help but chuckle as I reach for the drawer again and pull out a condom.

“How, eh…” He makes a few vague hand gestures.

“The logistics?” I ask, and Sy nods in reply. “I prefer doggy, but…”

“I want to see your face,” he blurts out before I can finish my sentence. It’s sweet, he doesn’t easily look shy…

I pull him in for a kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and clearly telling me just how nervous he is right now. When he breaks the kiss, he leans his forehead against mine and lets out a trembling breath.

“I want you on top of me,” I say softly, and he nods, moving to sit on his knees between my legs. He puts the condom on and then takes the bottle of lube, applying a generous amount to his cock before looking at me. There’s a question burning in his eyes.

I let my legs travel up his sides, never breaking eye contact, until my ankles are on his shoulders. He lifts a trembling hand, hooking it around my thigh, and pulls me closer before leaning over me. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous, sugar.”

“Look at me, Sy,” I say, cupping his face in my hands. “Just take it easy, go slow, and listen to me. That’s all you have to do.” Well, that and screw me to heaven and beyond. But let’s not tell him that right now.

He swallows hard, putting more of his weight on top of me as he uses one hand to position himself, and I feel him slowly, steadily pushing into me. It’s impossible to fight back a grin when I see his face: mouth hanging open, eyes wide at first, then screwed tightly shut…

“Easy,” I remind him gently. He’s not hurting me — not yet. “Stop for a second.” He instinctively pulls away, but I stop him. “Just stay there. Give me a second.”

My heart threatens to jump right out of my chest, and it feels like electricity runs through my veins — it’s exactly that excitement that keeps me from being able to handle this right now, and it bugs me.

Deep breath in. Hold. Breathe out.

I repeat it a few times, until I feel Sy sink into me a little further. “We’re good,” I say, my voice barely more than a breath.

Carefully, he pushes deeper into me, until his hips rest against my ass. “Goddamn, sugar,” he pants.

“Tell me about it,” I reply with a smile, relishing the feeling of his thick cock stretching me out. His first thrust makes me whine — then again, louder, when he leans down to kiss me. He sticks with a slow, gentle rhythm, in time with the way his lips move against mine. His low growls mixed with my moans fill the room, and soon I’m begging him to go faster.

“I won’t last ten seconds,” he grunts, but I don’t really care. So he sits up on his knees again and picks up the pace, his thrusts growing rougher with every move. His breathing quickens, his grip on my thighs tightens. I watch his face closely, amusement mixed in with my own desire. His eyes are closed, brow furrowed. A bead of sweat runs down his forehead. He’s clenching his jaw, lips trembling as he tries to hold on — but it’s no use.

“Fuck.”

‘Fuck’, indeed. His last thrusts are reckless, punishing, the low growl he lets slip as he finishes is music to my ears. I whine softly when he pulls out, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden emptiness.

It gets worse when he gets out of bed to clean up. I’m shivering, cold and alone, furiously wishing for Sy to come back and hold me. “Sy?” I plead. “Please talk to me.”

“What? I’ll be right there, sugar.” I know it’s ridiculous. He doesn’t even leave the room, for crying out loud! And yet I feel tiny and abandoned until Sy crawls back under the covers with me and holds me safely in his arms. “Shower?”

“Tomorrow,” I sigh, snuggling tightly against his chest. Yeah. This is alright.

#179cs #179 crescent street #henry cavill characters #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #syverson #captain syverson #syverson x ofc #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson smut #syverson x trans!ofc

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kilojulietsierra · 7 months

Text

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,

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!

#captain syverson #henry cavill #syverson #captain syverson x ofc #syverson x ofc #sy x ofc #henry cavill characters #sand castle #band of brothers #crossover ish

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 24 days

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Hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall's Masterlist

Hello and welcome! Thanks for stopping by and hope to see you here again ;)

I am working on putting together all of my AO3 works from different accounts into here, so beat with me ❤️

I do have some rules:

No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of it. Please don’t add your additions or spin-offs to my existing story.

If the description states 18+ than please do not interact if you are under 18 years old.

I love constructive criticism - what I mean by that? Please be polite (not only here but everywhere). We are all just humans making mistakes.

English isn't my first language so please bear with me :)

You can ask me anything, If I do not wish to answer/write about something, I will let you know.

🔥- smut 🌈- fluff ⚠️ - angst

So let's get started and enjoy!

Chains of Destiny- Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Mutant F!OC ⚠️ for now later 🔥⚠️🌈 (series)

The guard till the end - Oberyn Martell x F!OC ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Escape - Bucky Barnes x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

I want to be with you, it is as simple, and as complicated as that - Bucky Barnes x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Love is an open door - Bucky Barnes x Reader 🌈 (one-shot)

Nothings ever what it seems - Bucky Barnes ⚠️ (one-shot)

I ain’t afraid of no skeleton - Steve Rogers x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

Home / Home 2 - Steve Rogers x Reader 🔥⚠️🌈 (two-parter) 18+

The only B - Professor!Steve x Student!Reader 🔥🌈 (one-shot) 18+

Enough is Enough - Steve Rogers x Reader ⚠️ (one-shot)

But it’s snowing - Steve Rogers x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

The first snow of the year - Steve Rogers x Reader 🌈 (one-shot)

Ceasg - Pirate!Steve Rogers x Mermaid!Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

The PA - Tony Stark x Reader ⚠️🌈 (mini-series - finished)

I didn’t want it to be this way - Curtis Everett x Reader 🔥⚠️⚠️⚠️ (one-shot) 18+

Jealous - Geralt x Reader 🌈 (one-shot)

Time of War - Captain Syverson x Fem!OC (series ongoing)

Teenage Fantasy - Henry Cavill x Reader 🔥🌈 (one-shot)

The one with the Force - Obi Wan Kenobi x F!OC Medic (series ongoing)

Love isn't something you just learn, Commander part 1 / Part 2- Commander Cody x F!Reader ⚠️🔥🌈 18+ (two-parter finished)

Hope - Hunter x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one shot)

A new life / Part 2 / Part 3 - Commander Fox x F!OC ⚠️🔥🌈 18+ (three-parter finished)

Jealous - Echo x Reader ⚠️🌈 (one-shot)

The Fight isn't over yet - Rex x F!OC (series ongoing)

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doll-r-t · 2 years

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A Weird Position to Relax in

Syverson x autistic/ADHD!reader

(No race or body type explicitly stated! And written by and actually autistic/ADHD person)

Summary: you have the habit of getting into weird positions to relax and just hang out. (Inspired by the pictures I saw on Pinterest)

LEAVE COMMENTS AND REEBLOG PLEASE!

We need more disabled/neurodivergent Fics! Please Reeblog to make sure other people can find this fic and hopefully find joy and comfort!!!

Masterlist

Pictures found on Pinterest and mood board made by me. Credit to the people the photos belong to!

Syverson loved living with you for a very weird and specific reason. Something he had not noticed prior to living with you. Every time he came home, especially late. He would wonder how he would find you this time?

Yes you had the weirdest habit when it came to well… positions.

You could relax or sleep in the weirdest positions. It looked so uncomfortable to him but you looked more than fine.

You called it things like floor time. Needing to just lay on the ground. You had no idea why but it felt so good. You would sometimes just lay there and stare at the wall. Not in sadness or anything. Just, you know, hanging out.

When he first saw you in q weird position he just looked at you, exclaiming: "what the fuck are you doing?" He was amused.

Soon creating a game in his head: how would he find you today?

On his way home he would decide which room, couch floor or bed, and which position he would find you in.

Yet, most of the times you still surprised him

That is why he loved you, you made him laugh as soon as he stepped into the flat

And although you were not aware of his game, he was giddy every single day to come home to you, excited to see what kind of weird position you came up with

One time he had found you in a small nook with you body almost bend in half on your hip, this was one of the weirdest one

“How are you comfortable?”

You just looked confused at him, your phone in your hand, shrugging your shoulder

One time he woke up in the middle of the night and you were not next to him,

he went in search for you and found you in the small pantry/guest room in your house

The house was not big but you insisted of having another bed in case anyone ever needed to stay over

You were sat on the floor next to the bed in your PJs

just when he entered you had taken a big bite from a take out pizza

Smiling through a full mouth you held up the pizza carton,

“You want some?”, mumbling through your bites

“It's 3 a.m.?!” He looked at you bewildered.

“What are you doing?!”

You just shrugged and took another big bite

“I woke up and was hungry.”

“How did you get this stuff?”

Looking at him like he was an idiot you held up your phone, waving it around

“I did not hear the doorbell.”

“Didn’t want to wake you so waited until I saw their car then went outside.”

He rubbed his eyebrows, Sitting down on the floor as well,

It was a tight fit but he took one of the slices anyway

“Don’t go out next time.” He said after a bite

“Either let them ring, don’t care if it wakes me. Or tell them to put it down at the front door and then wait until they leave.” After a pause he went on

“Actually, just get me.”

You smiled softly up at him, “Okay.”

You knew he was worried about strangers coming to your home at night and you coming to harm

He mustard you for one more second before nodding at your phone

You pressed play on the episode your were watching and you two sat their just eating

Although it was a bit uncomfortable, sitting like this for him after a while he could not bring himself to care

He had not done this since before his military career

Just sitting down in the middle of the night with a bunch of junk food and a cute girl while watching TV on your shitty phone

Shitty, because you constantly dropped it, the screen was slightly chipped and it just looked worn out

He wanted to get you a new one but you waved him away,

“It’ll just end up looking like this anyway.”

He made sure that you were able to call him or the police in case you were in trouble and when he was confident your shitty phone could he had let it be

You eventually fell asleep on the floor, seemingly fully comfortable and your tummy full with food

He waited until the episode was finished just looking at you in amused fascination that you could just sleep like this

“You would be a great army personal” He thought, they had to sleep whenever and wherever they could

Groaning he stood up, stretching himself

Picking you up he made his way back with you to bed

One of the funniest ones was when he came home and you were working on the computer, the small fluffy kitten you had adopted from a shelter, laying on your head

He was not too fond of cats but he could never say no to you, so when both you and the cat looked up at him with big pleading eyes, he finalized the adopted

You cuddled her to you and talked about you were its new mummy and the big rough looking guy driving the car was its new daddy

He liked the sound of that and melted even more when you reassured the kitten that he only looked scary but he was a big warm cuddle bug

So when he came home to you working on the computer with the kitten on your head happy as ever he barked out a laugh.

“Oh God she is you in cat form.”

However, he soon only called the little kitten “Princess” or “little miss” when he was cross, giving you a glimpse at how he would be with a daughter

Now he would come home to you, his beloved everything and his furr daughter in weird positions

And eventually he would just lay next to you on the ground or, whatever weird spot you were and would hang out

You’d put your blanket around him and the little kitten would snuggle up with him, purring at his warmth

“I think I get it now.”

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Taglist:

@tumblnewbyy @irishprincess899 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112112 @sofiebstarar @omgkatinkaa @enchantedbytomandhenrynry @snowbellexx @daddys-littlewhitegirll @pjkimrn @zealoushoundd, @lunedelorientt, @tragicphoenix13, @alexa-fangirl-forever, @vhjlucky13 @bourbonwithicee

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ladylaviniya · 9 months

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Sy is so so hot. But it makes me sad hearing a statistic about how many military men cheat when they're deployed for years. They go to brothels or fuck their coworkers and everything 😭

Like I feel like single Sy would be the sleeziest fucker. But married Sy would be loyal...he just need really good phone sex and an hour in a private cubicle shower.

#captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #syverson x ofc

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

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Help??

I need help deciding who is the big bad wolf...because I have an idea.

It's for a future one-shot (please God let it be a one-shot).

Please consider reblogging to help this get as many votes as possible!

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sillyrabbit81 · 2 years

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The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Sixteen

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:

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.

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 years

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Part 1

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Preview 🍂 Part 2

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Series warning: Eventual smut, for now, fluffy mcflufferson.

Word count: 900

A/N: Remind me to never promise @keanureevesisbae anything ever again. (Just kidding hun, I'm actually super grateful for the fun li'l Sy prompt ❤️😏)

There's gonna be mistakes, because I had to make this a quick one...

“Hi! You must be Sy!” God, this man was tall – at least 6’ to your 5’1. And he smelled good – why did he have to smell good? You didn’t have time for a man! You were just here as a favor to your friend. How did she know this guy, anyway? He looked older than you, early thirties to your mid-twenties.

“Yeah, hey. Lara, right?”

“Yes!” It was just one drink, you just had to keep it up for one drink.

One drink turned into two, into three, and eventually into four. You were in serious trouble here. Sy was easy to talk to, had a good job, he was easy on the eyes, and the fact that the stitches of the shirt he was wearing were clearly only hanging on by the grace of God did not hurt, either. The two of you talked about anything and everything; his job, your studies, family, pets, you name it. You learned he grew up on his granddad’s ranch in Texas, and that he would really love to own a home with enough land someday to have his own horses again – which led you to have a hard time concentrating for the next ten or so minutes while your brain decided it was very necessary to imagine this burly cowboy on a horse. It wasn’t. Really. You could have done without that mental image. At least until you got home.

And then, the ‘check, please’-moment. He was annoyingly insistent on paying, and absolutely wasn’t going to go along with your idea of splitting. Sy even went as far as saying that ‘going Dutch’ was a completely ridiculous idea, especially on a first date, but you paid him no mind. You can take the girl out of the Netherlands, but you can’t take the Netherlands out of the girl. Nevertheless, your little kerfuffle about who was paying lead to you blurting out a combination of words you’d never heard yourself say in any dating-related context: “Next one’s on me, then.”

“Next one, huh?” Sy smiled as if he approved of the idea. “I might have to get my hands on your number, then.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. That was not an actual question, and if this guy wanted your number he was going to have to do a lot better than this.

“’Course I could ask Julie, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, since she so kindly set us up today, but I’d rather get it from you directly. What do you think?”

“I think, Sy, that you need to be a little more to the point,” you replied to what you considered the most cumbersome way of asking someone for their phonenumber. Ever.

“Can I get your number, Sugar?” You pretended to contemplate your answer for a while, which didn’t sit very well with Sy. He took a step closer to you and repeated his question slower and in a lower register, both of which highlighted his accent in the cutest way. It was also vaguely threatening, which your body reacted to in ways you couldn’t describe as anything other than high treason.

“Y-yes,” you stammered as you felt a blush creep from under the collar of your blouse.

“Thank you.” Sy suddenly smiled and the threatening air that had surrounded him a second ago, was gone immediately. “May I walk you to your car?”

“Julie was going to pick me up,” you said without thinking about it.

“Well in that case,” Sy chuckled, “may I offer you a ride home?” You were going to kill Julie. Oh, well. She absolutely would have come and pick you up if the date had been a disaster. And you guessed she knew Sy well enough to know he wasn’t a total creep.

“That would be great, thank you, Sy.”

You talked some more on the way home, which wasn’t long, but you’re pretty sure you took a detour or two on the way there. Since you hadn’t been living here for too long, you couldn’t be completely certain. When you arrived at your house, you secretly hoped for just one more detour. Luckily, Sy got out of his truck to open your door for you, and insisted on walking you to the house. Sy squinted at you, clearly debating whether or not he should say something about the state of the house he was dropping you off at. Eventually he seemed to decide that whatever he had to say probably wasn’t something you didn’t already know.

“I had a great time tonight, Sy,” you said as you hugged him goodbye on the porch.

“Me too, Sugar,” Sy replied with a friendly hint of mischief in his eyes, “mind if I kiss ya?” You let him know that you didn’t mind at all. As his lips came closer and your eyes slowly fell shut, it felt like the ground disappeared from beneath you. Because it did. Fuck! The floorboards of the porch had finally given out. Luckily, Sy was more than capable of keeping you upright and unharmed. He laughed as he put you back down in a place that looked sturdier than the one you were in before, and he pressed a swift but sweet kiss on your cheek. “Ma’am, if you need any repairs on this death-trap of a house of yers, you’ve got my number.”

#syverson fanfiction #syverson x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson #syverson fic

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buckyscrystalqueen · 2 years

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Forever

Pairings: Syverson x OFC (Adele), Sy x OFC

Warnings: Fluff. Just pure fluff

Word Count: 1,356

A/N; So I wrote this story for a creative writing college class. I was listing to my country music playlist while I was thinking about what to write and “Traveling Soldier” by The (Dixie) Chicks came on and this story just popped into my head. So after 8 weeks of critiques, editing, rewriting, and all but pulling my hair out, here it is. @just-chirpin I told you I would tag you when I finally posted this. Class is over and I got an A on this so I am super proud of this!

~~~~~~~~~

Fear. It was a feeling that felt so foreign to Army Captain Jack Syverson but as he sat in the Charlotte airport, impatiently tapping his foot while waiting for his final connecting flight to Savannah, Georgia, it was the only feeling that he was aware of. A gold ring felt like lead in the pocket of his dark blue jeans. The light grey Henley he had on over his muscular chest and arms felt a half size too small. He wondered if she would even recognize him after eight years.

Without thinking he nervously scratched at the short, thick brown beard on his chin before his hand moved up and brushed across the buzz cut he had done after washing years of sand and bad memories off in the shower. The smooth textures beneath his fingertips changed as his hand moved down to the brace on his knee to adjust it subconsciously. He resisted reaching into his tour stained desert brown backpack to pull out the stack of letters he had long since memorized; the ink was starting to fade and the pages had become fragile along the creases from folding and unfolding them, he didn’t want to risk them falling apart like her very first letter had. Those two pages were safely tucked in their envelope, taped together as carefully as his thick fingers could possibly manage.

“Now boarding flight 1721 to Dallas/ Fort Worth at gate D5.” Sy glanced up at his gate number, D2, at the mention of his hometown airport and the fleeting thought of if he was doing the right thing crossed his mind. When he had booked his flight, the only thing he could think about was the gorgeous smile of the stranger he had been writing to for years. The young girl with a bow in her hair didn’t know him from Adam when he sat down in her section at Clary’s Cafe in Savannah the day before he shipped out to California for boot camp. A tour book had recommended the quaint landmark where he was oblivious to the Formica tables and historic prints on the walls and enthralled by his waitress instead.

Her sparkling brown eyes were forever burned in his memory when she agreed to him writing to her while he was deployed. Her French braided, waist length, light brown hair swished freely across her tanned back as she casually led him through the historic squares of her hometown. Etched in his mind forever was the cute, purple with white polka dots bandana wrapped around her head in an impossible attempt to keep the tiny fly aways that framed her face tamed. It was tied in a bow just above her left eye, complimenting her vibrant eye color. The memory of her smile was what kept him going in the desert though. He was forever grateful that he allowed an extra day in Savannah before the last leg of his bus trip to Fort Bragg in North Carolina.

Sy saw that smile every night in his dreams and recalled it during tough times when he sent a fallen or injured soldier home. His thoughts would drift to it during chow, and he could picture it across her pretty face when he would read the detailed letters she sent twice a month. He reread these same letters whenever he needed a pick-me-up when the war got to be just too much for even him to handle. He had long ago memorized the line she had written, “I was never lonely on my walks through the squares until you left,” until it was ingrained on his soul.

Her smile was the reason he got through officers training. Her freedom was what he was fighting for. That is, it was what he was fighting for until he blew out his left knee breaking up a fight between two blow hard privates that let the desert heat get to their heads. The weeks he spent in the hospital were something he had zero intention of mentioning to her. She had worried enough about him these past eight years to bother her with something so trivial. In his last letter to her he had casually lied and said he was going home to Decatur, Texas in two weeks instead of admitting he was going to surprise her in Savannah.

There went that fear again. Fear that she wouldn’t recognize him when he sat down in what hopefully was still her section at Clary’s. Fear that if it wasn’t, that she would be walking the same route through the squares every Sunday morning like she used to. Fear that he would never be able to find the pen pal that he had fallen in love with. He recalled her comment in a later letter that she “feared the instant connection they had shared many years ago would be gone”, which only added to his anxiety. He hoped to get his feelings in check before his last connecting flight from Charlotte to Savannah.

Sy’s hands made another pass through his beard, over his head, before scrubbing his tired blue eyes that were most likely blood shot from the sleep he had lost worrying about this trip he was making. The trip where he would finally come face to face with the woman that he loved and yearned to hold. The woman who referred to their one and only day together as the best day she had ever had. In her letters she had claimed she felt like she had always known him.

“Final boarding call for flight 1721 to Dallas/ Fort Worth at gate D5.”

“Wait! Please wait!” a woman cried, catching Sy’s attention. He looked to his right to watch her sprinting through the crowded Charlotte terminal, her long, curly brown hair tied up in a loose bun on the top of her head, and a purple with white polka dot bandana tied as a headband at the front, trying to keep those little fly aways back.

“Adele?” he asked himself as he carefully stood up and grabbed the strap of his backpack. His heart pounding, he limped as fast as he could as she breezed past, dodging an elderly couple that were walking just a bit too slow. “Adele!” She came to a screeching halt, her black Converse sneakers squeaking loudly on the white linoleum floor. She found him instantly in the crowd and all the fears he had been stressing over simply melted away.

“Sy?” she breathed, but they both knew what she was questioning. How was the scrawny boy she met in Savannah now the six foot one, muscular man before her? With the slightest bob of his head in confirmation, she bolted back into his direction and took a flying leap of faith into his arms.

“You’re here,” she whispered with tears in her eyes as they clung tightly together, shocked to find each other in the chaos of Charlotte’s connecting flights.

“I love you,” was the only thing he could say as he gently leaned back to see her gorgeous smile. He searched her tear-filled eyes as he carefully set her down on the ground and reached into his pocket for the ring that now felt like a brick. “And I will never leave you again. Will you…”

“Yes,” she gasped with a violent nod of her head as she wiped the tears from her eyes as quickly as she could. “I love you, too. I have for years…”

“Me too,” he replied as he slid the band onto her finger. She caressed his scruff covered cheek in her small hand and confirmed her feelings with a gentle kiss. The sights and sounds around them slipped away as they held on to their whole world in that moment.

“Come home with me.” She whispered when she pulled away to search the sweet blue eyes that she had seen nightly in her dreams. “Please tell me you are coming home. I can’t bear another minute…”

“I’m coming home.” He confirmed with a smile that made her feel whole again. “I’m coming home with you forever.”

#syverson x ofc #Sy x OFC #syverson fic #captain syverson #Forever #sy

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sapphirefallschronicles · 2 years

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Welcome to Sapphire Falls❜┊˚̥۪͙۪◌

Hi friends,

It's almost December, meaning Mariah Carey is defrosting and Christmas is very close. And what is December really without an advent calendar?

@diegos-butt and @keanureevesisbae have joined forced and present to you:

The Sapphire Falls Advent Calendar

The stories of four friends in the wonderful town of Sapphire Falls as they are nearing Christmas. We invite you for a daily chapter, starting on December 1st, all the way to December 25th.

We hope you will enjoy your time in Sapphire Falls!

Lots of love,

@diegos-butt & @keanureevesisbae

P.S. we won't be using a taglist, so if you want to stay up to date, please make sure you follow this blog!

#welcome to sapphire falls #diegos-butt #keanureevesisbae #fanfiction #christmas advent calendar #Chris evans #Chris evans fanfiction #Chris evans x ofc #basketballer!Chris Evans #Henry Cavill #Henry cavill fanfiction #syverson #syverson x ofc #farmer!syverson #plus size!ofc #asian!ofc #chris evans x plus size ofc #henry cavill x asian ofc

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littlefreya · 6 months

Text

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…

#henry cavill #captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #sand castle

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peyton-warren · 2 months

Text

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.

#captain syverson #captain sy #captain sy x reader #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson x reader #sy x reader #syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #henry cavill characters #captain syverson fluff #captain sy fluff #syverson fluff #sy fluff

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Text

Shape-Up

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Cpt Syverson x Black!Reader

Fandom: Sand Castle

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Warnings: Daddy kink, creampie, unprotected p-in-v, pregnancy sex, wasted sandwiches

A/N: There is a really good Syverson Spotify playlist I listened to for this. It was dope. Also, this is my first time writing Sy, so please, be kind. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist

“Peaches!”

You can hear the shout and start making your way upstairs finding your husband in the bathroom.

“There they are!” He coos, kissing your cheek before sliding his hand across your slightly pregnant belly.

“Baby, I’m only at three months! There’s barely a baby yet,” you giggle, secretly loving how Sy has become so sweet suddenly.

“Hey, girl, you’re carrying my baby. Let me be cute, alright?” he insists, kissing your forehead, “Or if you want, I can trim my beard myself. I know you hate doing that for me,” he jests, enjoying the expression change on your face.

“Oh, come on, you know I love trimming your beard, baby,” you whine, pushing out your bottom lip and giving puppy eyes for good measure.

“Fuck, you know what that does to me, Peaches. That mouth of yours got us into this whole situation, ya know?” he jokes, gesturing to your belly.

You feign confusion and Sy rolls his eyes, and you think he is unable to see the sly smile you are hiding as he turns away.

“You do know there is a mirror in front of you, right?” he warns, and you meet his eyes in the reflective surface, “I saw that smile. You think you slick, Peaches?”

“Daaaaaddy, come on. You know we technically were planning around this time to start a family,” you gushed, pulling him close by his beard, “Plus, how cute is this belly gonna look in all them damn sundresses you like so much?”

“What can I say? You have the curves that make a sundress a thing of beauty, Peaches. Just thinking about this lil bump adding another curve to you is doing something to me,” he flirts, his hands wandering over your hips.

“You are too much, sometimes. I love that you can’t get enough of me. But damn, I just took care of you this morning, Daddy,” you insist, trying to jog his memory of having you over the kitchen table.

You watch as the memory plays again across his face, and you can’t help but smile.

He has his beard-trimming kit out on the counter and you have him sit on the toilet and comb out his beard while he watches your face. He pauses, pulling out his phone, and suddenly ‘Just the Two of Us’ is playing.

“Our song!” you beam, smiling at your man.

“We might need a new song soon. It’s gonna be more than two of us. Us versus this lil menace,” Sy laughs, his hand going to your belly.

“I mean, this baby is half-you, so it’s gotta be at least 50% menace. You are right about that,” you agree, reaching for the clippers, “Now, hush up so I can get started, Sy.”

“You only call me Sy when you’re serious, so I’ll hush up this time,” he mutters, lifting his chin so you have better access to his neck.

Luckily, you have done this enough times that it is almost muscle memory at this point. Taking care of the neckline. Shaping up the frontline. Trimming what strays pop up from combing. It’s like an art form, beard trimming. You get lost in it every time.

“I’m almost done, can you play ‘Simple Man’?” you ask, getting in the zone.

“You got it, Peaches,” he says, leaning away to choose the song on his phone, coming back to where you are holding the smaller clippers.

You get back to work, holding his chin up so you can get any spots you missed. Turning his face this way and that, you are finally happy with your work. You were even able to work in a fade to the beard which isn’t his usual style. But when his usual style is basically human Wookie, it’s hard not to want to kick it up a notch.

You step away and let him get up to check out your work in the mirror. “So, how do you like it, Daddy?”

“I love it, Peaches. Damn, I’m looking kinda sexy,” he praised, running his hands over his beard.

“You are looking damn sexy, Daddy,” you flirt, landing a hand on his ass, “Now hit the showers and I’ll have lunch ready in no time.” You scamper out of the bathroom before he can get his arms around you. By the look of lust on his face, you’re lucky you got away.

You hear Sy’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and you hit play on the kitchen speaker. ‘Tennessee Whiskey’ starts to play as he rounds the corner and he gets a fantastic view of what you’re wearing.

The “Proud Army Brat” apron that Sy got you as a gag gift is on you, as well as nothing else. Well, nothing else but a smile, as you hold up his favorite lunch. BLT with a pickle spear and kettle chips.

“You are so fucking perfect,” he mused, grabbing the sandwich from your hands and placing it on the dining table, “Can I have you instead of the sandwich, Peaches?”

“I’d be lying if I said ‘I thought you’d never ask’,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying to the music.

You two lazily kiss and dance to the song until it ends and Sy picks you up, You wrap your legs around him. He walks to the living room and kneels in front of the couch, as to set you down to sit on the couch.

Once you are seated, his hands go to your thighs, spreading you open. ‘Kashmir’ starts to play on the kitchen speaker, and if this was pre-baby you would be lighting up a joint to share. But the kind of pleasure you are about to get makes a joint sound like a high-five.

Sy sinks right into your pussy, lips sucking your clit as one hand rests on your belly and the other finds its way through your folds. You moan and place your hands behind Sy’s head, beckoning him even closer to you.

“Fuck, Daddy, you eat pussy like a god,” you breathed, catching his eye as he licks his lips.

“Damn right, Peaches. I love eating this pussy and you know why?” he quizzes, his thumbs running little circles around your clit.

“Because it’s yours, Daddy,” you groan, grinding your hips for any kind of friction you can get.

“Yes, Peaches. It’s all mine,” he growls, pushing his shorts down so his heavy cock pops free, “Daddy is gonna fuck this pussy now, ok baby?”

“Yes, please, Daddy, fuck me. I’m ready,” you gush, ready to be filled by him.

He takes the tip of his dick and collects some of your moisture, tapping the head against your clit so you moan for him. He lines himself up and pushes in, and you both hiss at the feeling.

“Fuck, Peaches! This pussy is so good, almost too good, baby,” he grunts, holding on to your thighs and pounding into you. He continues to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you.

“I’m gonna cum, Daddy,” you whimper, legs shaking as your orgasm overtakes you.

“That’s my good girl, Peaches. Daddy’s right behind you, baby. Daddy’s right there. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuck,” he babbles as he empties inside you, his poor brain is pretty much gone at this point. But he still has the faculties in order to pull out and kiss up your belly, as if praising you. He picks you up easily, carrying you back up the steps and into the bedroom. He helps to wipe you down and undress you.

You are already half-asleep when you feel Sy wrapping his arms around you. “Sleep for now, Peaches, then we can try to eat again. No promises that it won’t end up exactly like breakfast and lunch but I’ll try my best.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

“Love you, too, Peaches.”

Follow-up to this story: My Little Strawberry

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz 😁

[General Fanfiction (Everything), Henry Fanfiction, August Walker, Bright Like The Moon]

#captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x ofc #cpt syverson #syverson x reader #syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #syverson x you #syverson smut

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sillyrabbit81 · 2 years

Text

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Seventeen

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Seventeen Summary: Lori finds out more about Jake. Walker finds out about the pact.

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

Word Count: Approx. 3.4k

Warnings:

Part Seventeen Warnings: slight angst, violence, mentions of blood, implied smut

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

This chapter is from both Lori and Walker's POVs. I know it's a bit different to how I've been structuring the story, but I felt like it needed to be done this way.

There's more exposition here, but I think that will be all for a while.

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

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Sixteen Part Eighteen (coming soon)

Lori

“Are you sure you don’t want breakfast first?” Marshall asked as we approached the open door to Walker’s office.

I shook my head. “Let’s get this over with.”

He gave me a brief approving smile before cupping the back of my head and kissing me on the crown.

“Let’s go,” he said.

I took a deep breath to steel myself for what I was about to face and I walked into Walker’s office.

The space was simple enough, basically furnished with a dark, almost black, modern looking desk with a laptop and a number of open files and papers making a mess of the otherwise clean room. There was a matching filing cabinet and a bookshelf, a low modern black leather sofa and four simple chairs pushed against one of the grey walls and the floor was carpeted in a similarly grey rug. The only feature that appeared decorative was an abstract art piece that ran nearly the entire length of the wall.

It immediately caught my eye; it was impossible to ignore. The work was lit by museum style lighting and spread over two canvases. It was mostly white with sometimes wispy, sometimes harsh, feathery slashes of black, grey and brown paint. While there was an obvious darkness to the piece, there was something heartachingly optimistic about it. For some reason I was reminded of being a kid, blowing hard on a dandelion and watching with glee as the pappus floated away on the wind carrying with them the potential for adventure and a new life.

Walker cleared his throat. I glanced at him quickly, he was taking his seat behind the desk and Marshall was carrying over two chairs. I turned back to the painting and tried to reconcile the art with its owner, but couldn’t for the life of me see the connection.

What would a piece like this mean to a man like Walker? If it was simply melancholic and evoked feelings of fear and dread, I could see the attraction for him. However, the undeniable sense of potential hope and happiness born from the darkness had my curiosity piqued. Why would he not only buy it, but give the piece a place of honour, something that no other object in this room seemed to have? It couldn’t have been cheap, the artist was no doubt talented and experienced; it must have cost a fortune.

“Oh,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes. “Of course.”

It was an investment and a way to hide his true net worth from authorities. Granted, it was a high brow, convoluted way of laundering money, but it wasn’t unheard of, especially for international criminal syndicates. It was the only explanation that seemed plausible.

Taking one last look at the painting, I sat down next to Marshall. He pulled out his notebook while Walker selected one of the files scattered over his desk and opened it. He selected a page and showed it to me.

It was a grainy and dark photograph of the interior of a nightclub and appeared to have been lifted from security footage. A number of people were in the shot, mostly holding drinks and standing in groups of twos or threes. At first I didn’t grasp the significance of the picture, then I gasped as I recognised the couple in the middle of the frame.

“Jake,” I whispered.

“Jacob Owen Wright,” Walker corrected.

Barely able to tear my eyes from the photograph, I looked at the two men, “How did you find him? Just from this picture?”

Marshall looked a little sheepish and glanced at Walker who showed no embarrassment. “I had some associates sweep your apartment for fingerprints and DNA.”

“What?” I asked, my voice hard with anger. “You had no right to do that without asking.”

Walker took out another couple of pages and showed me pictures of what I recognised to be Jake’s apartment only by the kitchen cabinets because the rest of the apartment was completely bare.

“We didn’t have a lot of options. The whole place was scrubbed. Not a single piece of usable evidence was found to start an identification. Your apartment was the only other place we knew for sure that he’d been.”

“You could have asked,” I said, only partly paying attention to what I was saying.

My mind was in a whirl and I found it difficult to pin down any single thought. It was clear that Jake had lied to me about who he was and what his interest in forming a relationship with me was, but this along with the tracking device suggested that a bigger conspiracy was at play.

“So, you found something in my apartment?”

“Not a lot, but enough for an ID. A thumbprint was found on the top edge of the headboard of your bed and further examination found the rest of the prints on the back as if it had been grasped and used for purchase,” Walker informed me blankly.

My cheeks heated as I realised how those prints got there. I remembered when it had happened and remembered looking at the athletic cords of his arm muscles stretching and contracting as he used the bed as an anchor to go harder and deeper. I felt like such a fool. In the back of my mind I must have known there was something off about him, which was probably why I never want the relationship to make the transition from casual fuck buddies to something more serious. I don’t know why I ignored that feeling and let myself be drawn in by a man who had nothing to offer but lies and deception just because he had the veneer of civility. Looking up at Marshall, it struck me that while the Brothers appeared to be lawless and crude, they treated me better than any man I had known other than my father, Nate, and Hustle.

“Prints on file mean a criminal record right?” I asked.

Again the two men exchanged glances and again Walker spoke, “Not necessarily. But in this case, yes. One offence in New Mexico as a youth. While he was born in your home town, it appears as though he moved around a lot. His mother, born Louise Anne Huxley, married several times, however Jacob’s birth certificate lists no father and we haven’t been able to find one. Louise changed her name several times, with each marriage and on a few occasions without a marriage. Jacob’s birth name was Jacob Flynt, but he has also been known as Turner, Johnson and now, Wright.”

I peered at the photo of me and Jake again. He never even mentioned that he had been born in my hometown, only saying he had moved there a few months before we met; he hadn’t even said moved back. He hadn’t been open about himself like Marshall or Sy, or even Mike and I never would have asked him to be. I’d known the Brothers less than a week and I knew more about each of them than I did about Jake. Well, except for Walker.

“Anything else?”

Walker shook his head. “We have more leads to run down, I’ll let you know if we find anything more significant.”

“You’ve had some time to think,” Marshall said, “have you thought of anything else, anything at all that could help with the investigation?”

“No. Nothing I haven’t already told you.” My eyes were drawn back to the canvas. “Have you told my brother? Does he know anything about this?”

“I spoke to Hustle—” Walker started.

“I asked about Nate,” I brought my attention back to Walker whose jaw muscles quivered beneath his stubbled cheek. “Have you spoken to him?”

“No.”

I nodded and swallowed down my fear. Nate must be alright; Hustle would have said if he wasn’t and despite everything, I’m sure Walker would tell me if something had happened to him.

“Is that all? Can I go now?” I asked.

Walker gave me a curt dip of his head, so slight it couldn’t be called a nod.

I stood and turned swiftly on my heels as I headed for the door.

Walker

Marshall gave me a flat, unimpressed stare as he followed Lori out of my office.

“Jesus,” I muttered as I placed the papers and photographs back in the manilla folder. What the hell did I do this time to get her so riled up?

Sighing, I tapped the file on the desk and glanced up to see Marshall lifting Lori’s chin with a crooked finger in a way that suggested a familiarity that was far too inappropriate for my liking. It was a good thing Sy wasn’t here to witness it; no doubt he’d go completely apeshit. A kiss on the cheek was one thing, even Mike’s game yesterday was basically harmless, but the way Marshall was looking at Lori was absolutely not benign.

I was sure Marshall would pull away before they actually kissed. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to kiss her; the girl was far too attractive for her appeal to be ignored. She was artlessly beautiful and she had a spark of fiery willfulness that always made my cock ache when I imagined seducing her into submission. But this wasn’t about Lori, I didn’t give two shits if Lori stepped out on Sy, it was about Marshall. Marshall wouldn’t betray Sy, he wouldn’t betray a Brother. Surely he wasn’t going to—

“Holy Shit!”

He did it, he actually kissed her.

My blood ran like napalm through my veins, my sight going red as I lept my desk and letting the uncontrolled rage rush through my system along with the burst of adrenaline, I let it all out in one furious punch squarely in the middle of Marshall's face.

A scream and a warm spray of blood slapped me across the face, quickly sobering me.

Oh fuck, what have I done?

Marshall held his nose, no doubt busted and Lori was pushing me out of the way as she tried to get Marshall to lower his hands so she could see the damage. Marshall wasn’t having it, stepping around her as he confronted me.

“You deserve that, you know you do,” I said, coolly.

“And why the fuck would I?” Marshall said, blood pooled in his mouth which sprayed out as he spoke.

“You think Sy would have gone easier on you? Should I have just let him deal with this?”

“And why the fuck would you care what Sy would do?”

“I’m not going to let a woman break this club up, I don’t care who the fuck she is.”

“It’s not what you think Walker,” Lori had the hide to say. I turned on Lori, her face was pale with fear, but she held her chin up as if daring me to hit her too. Fuck, she was killing me.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about Walker,” Marshall added.

“What else could I think? You’re kissing his fucking woman. You think he’s going to shrug and get over it? You’ve put the whole club in jeopardy and—”

“Walker!” Geralt entered my office, planting himself firmly between Marshall and me.

“He was kissing Lori,” I said. Jesus, I sounded like a kid trying to obfuscate responsibility after being busted by their dad. I may as well have pointed at Marshall and cried, he started it.

Geralt didn’t react. Not even a tiny twitch of his eye.

“You knew? You knew and you didn’t think to stop it before he came back? He’s going to fucking kill him.”

Geralt sighed and looked at the grey carpet now decorated with a blood splatter that Dexter Morgan would have been proud of.

“Lori, take him to the kitchen and put some ice on his nose.”

Lori gave me a look of disgust that made my guts twist. Fear, I could deal with; disgust was something else entirely. Marshall still had his eyes trained on me, his eyes darkened with murderous ambition. I readied myself for him to attack, but Lori took his hand, with a gentle tug and he let himself be led away.

I turned my attention back to Geralt as Marshall and Lori disappeared into the hallway.

“You’ve got some explaining to do,” I said to Geralt, turning back to my desk and sitting in my chair.

Stunned, I sat slack jawed as Geralt explained the situation - the pact the others had made - although it sounded too far fetched to be true. But it made a lot of things fall into place and explained what the others had been whispering amongst themselves over the past few days.

How could I have missed this? How could I not have known what was going on. Jesus, what else was going on in the club that I didn’t know about?

“What happens when the job is over?” I asked when he finished talking.

“Same rules as before, she decides what she wants,” Geralt replied.

“What if she wants to go home? Would you go with her?”

Geralt shrugged.

“Jesus. You’d let the club fall because of the whims of some girl?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“When were you going to tell me? When you were all packed up ready to leave and I’d be stuck here holding my dick,” I seethed through gritted teeth. “I’d expect something like this from Sy, he’s always been a little soft when it comes to women. Or Mike even, he’s a fucking kid. But Marshall? You? No. I thought you knew what we were doing here, what we were working for.”

“I don’t think she will want to leave when this is over, I think she’s found her place here.”

“This is no place for a woman.”

“She knows what she's getting into. She’s not naive.”

Geralt’s nonchalance about this whole situation was doing my head in. There was so much that could go wrong here. We could lose it all because my Brothers couldn’t think with anything but their dicks.

“You don't have to be on the outside looking in,” Geralt said with a sly smirk. “She likes you too, you know.”

I laughed, curling my lip and showing Geralt my teeth. “I saw the look on her face, she’s terrified of me.”

“Not of you, of what you represent.”

“I don't share my toys," I sneered.

Geralt nodded slowly. “It’s your call,” he stood, “I'll go check on Marshall.”

“Tell him…” I ground my teeth, what the fuck do I say?

Geralt paused and waited.

“Nothing.”

I glanced at the painting on my wall. The darkness loomed larger than usual and I turned away again quickly, not daring to hope for some light.

Over the next few days the divide between my Brothers and I widened while the others seemed to draw together as they closed in on Lori. Normally there was a schedule set up for guarding a client, even inside the clubhouse, but Lori didn’t need one; she was never alone. She went from Marshall, to Geralt, to Mike, back to Marshall. I didn’t bother offering to take even an hour of guard duty. I wasn’t asked to anyway.

I dared not ask which of my Brothers she was fucking. Marshall obviously, but had Mike and Geralt gone there too? It didn’t look like it, but I couldn’t be sure. I should have nipped the situation in the bud that first night when I found Sy in bed with her.

Dinners alternated between awkward affairs and actually entertaining. Mike in particular was lively, filling dull moments with jokes and conversation. But usually towards the end of the meal Marshall would look at Lori, and the air in the room became electrified as if statically charged. I would leave the room as soon as possible.

One evening after dinner, I walked into the common room and the four of them were there. Perched on Geralt's knee, it appeared she was playing a card game against Mike and Marshall, a small stack of chips were in front of each of them. Her brows were drawn low in concentration as Geralt whispered in her ear and pointed at her hand.

They all looked up simultaneously. Mike and Marshall dropped their heads back to their cards, Marshall still hadn’t forgiven me for the punch and barely spoke to me during meals. His bruising had faded to a few dark circles under his eyes and he had a small cut on the bridge of his nose. Geralt nodded in greeting but didn’t say anything.

Lori watched me move around the bar until Mike pulled her attention back to the game.

“It’s your turn Babycakes.”

She peeked over her shoulder at Geralt and pointed at a card. He nodded and grinned. Lori dropped the cards onto the table with a smirk and Mike groaned while Marshall dropped his hand with a disgruntled sigh.

“I won?” Lori asked, grining.

“G won,” Mike grumbled under his breath while Marshall nodded.

She raised her hands into fists above her head and bounced excitedly on Geralt’s knee. I turned my attention to pouring my drink, slamming the glass down angrily on the counter.

“Should we play again?” I heard her ask.

“I’ll deal,” Mike said.

“Walker, do you want in?” Lori asked.

I paused, the bottle of whiskey poised just about to pour.

“On the game,” she added.

Mike snickered.

I started to pour myself a generous amount before raising my head. All four of them were looking expectantly at me. I raised my glass to my lips and had a sip, relishing the sweet burn as it passed my throat and settled in my belly.

“No thanks,” I said, already walking across the room, “some people have to work around here.”

I went back to my office. I didn’t have any work to do, not really. All the leads we had in the investigation into Jake were being handled externally by various contacts who worked for us on occasion and I had decided not to take any more jobs until this one was over. We’d had requests and offers, but after investigating Jake and relaying the information to Hustle, I had a nagging feeling something wasn’t adding up. I think we were going to need everyone on this and Sy’s experience in particular was needed.

I lit a cigar and went to the sofa on the wall. I stared at the painting on the wall as I smoked, and drank, waiting patiently for the heavy buzz that would let me sleep.

I was getting close when the gate alarm went off. I went back to my desk and checked the camera feed and saw Sy rolling the large wire gate shut before riding off to the garage. I sat in the chair and waited.

It wasn’t long before he appeared, bag slung over one shoulder, helmet tucked under his arm.

“Walker,” he said.

“How did it go?”

He placed his helmet carefully on the desk, shrugged then sat. “It was straightforward. No problems. Need a report?”

I shook my head, “Not unless there’s something we should be aware of in future.”

He grimaced, “One or two things, but nothing urgent. I’ll get it to you in a few days.”

“Fine.”

I expected him to leave but he stayed sitting in the chair. After a few moments he spoke. “How is she?”

“Alive,” I said.

He nodded. Quiet again, he looked all around my office at everything except me then spoke again. “Where is she?”

“I last saw her in the common room with the others. If they aren’t there, then I expect she’s with Marshall,” I paused, trying to figure out what the fuck he was thinking, but he gave nothing away so I added, “Like every other night since we got here.”

He nodded again. Still nothing, his face totally impassive, I couldn’t get a read on him at all.

Sy stood suddenly, “I’ll get that report to you soon.”

I wanted to ask him where he was going to go; his room or Marshall’s? I wanted to ask him why he did it, I wanted to tell him I couldn’t have done what he did, I wanted to punch the shit out of him and tell him he was a fucking idiot. Instead I waited until he left and went back to the sofa and stared at the painting on the wall again until I fell asleep.

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