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capncassas · 3 years

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Syverson | Pretty As A Peach

Summary: You go on summer vacation with your college room mate and meet her parents, but you can’t stop yourself from lusting after Captain Daddy.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, age gap, language, younger female reader, smut, Captain Cunnilingus is at it again (obviously oral, F recieving), some mild foot fetish? (foot rubbing on cock…that’s a thing right?), older man kink, (I think I got all of it, sorry if I forgot anything)

Words: 3.8 K

Tag List: @littlebirdofrivia @smile-sugar @ughdontbeboring @peachatori @daddys-littlewhitegirl @wheretheriversrunintothesea @beck07990 @mis-lil-red @myloveforhenrycavill @enchantedbytomandhenry @kebabgirl67 and @jessinchains because I know she loves her some Syverson SMUT

Two weeks away from the hectic schedule and stuffy classrooms of your mid-level college were exactly what you needed, but your parents went to see your brother out of state at the same time. That was fine. You were over eighteen; you took care of yourself while living the dorm life all the time.

You were trying to put up a brave face as you took the news that you would spend two weeks at your childhood home all alone in Connecticut when your dorm mate extended an invitation you couldn’t refuse.

“Y'know YN, you could always come home with me? I mean, I’m gonna spend a week in Arkansas with my mama and then hop that Texas boarder and spend a week with my dad. If you don’t mind bouncin’ around, that is.”

Michelle has been a lifesaver. Always so kind. Maybe it was a product of being southern? You always heard about the famous hospitality, but until you moved to Memphis to attend college, you never experienced it.

“Really? I wouldn’t be in the way?”

“Of course not, goose, you’re always welcome and I know my parents would love to meet you. Y'know mama was worried about me being by myself and then we were assigned to the same room.”

You did your best to not turn into a crybaby and hug Michelle. She really was the best friend you always dreamed of having.

—

After a week with Michelle’s mom, you felt pleasantly exhausted and sure you’d put on at least ten pounds in five days.

You were also certain that you’d fallen in love with Little Rock. There was so much to see and do and when the four of you weren’t visiting the museums and parks, you were going on shopping trips and eating some of the best food you ever had in your life. Little Rock was definitely a foodie town.

“Miss Heather, I’m sure going to miss you.” You told Michelle’s mom as you were about to leave for Texas. Being around Michelle’s family all week, you were picking up that warm southern way of speaking.

“I’ll miss you too, darlin’ now ya’ll remember to text when you get there and YN, don’t be shy. Anytime you wanna c'mon back here with Michelle, you do so. Bring your family next time too, we’d all have a good ol'e time.”

You beamed. Your mom would love Heather. “Yes, ma'am. I’ll do my best to get them out this way.”

Settling into the car for the next four hours, you drove the first two before letting Michelle take over after her nap on the second half, since she would know exactly where you were going.

“So… I noticed your mom didn’t talk about your dad much.” You commented. You didn’t want to pry, but well — maybe their divorce was painful?

“Mama doesn’t like to dwell. After the divorce it was hard but I think eventually they got to be friends again.”

Sometimes you wondered what it would be like if your parents got divorced. It felt like a terrifying prospect. You weren’t sure you would know how to feel, like a whole piece of you was being ripped apart not seeing your mom and dad together.

“So, they don’t have any ill feelings towards each other? Your dad won’t be upset we went to see her first?”

Michelle laughed, shaking her head. “No, my dad will tease us to death, he’s a real big joker and sometimes it’s hard to tell if he’s jokin’ but I’ll tell'em to take it easy on you.”

You felt relieved as you reached into the back seat for your bag. Before your last day, Michelle’s mom insisted on making sure that you and Michelle had all the feminine essentials. Even new bathing suits and sunscreen, despite telling her you were okay, and she didn’t need to buy you anything. Heather insisted saying ‘Child, don’t you take my blessing away now.’

Whatever that meant. Maybe it was another one of those southern things.

Squeezing some bath and body works lotion into your hand, you rubbed it in, swiping some onto your neck and around your thighs that felt like they were baking in the sun coming through the window.

—

Another hour passed before Michelle pulled onto a dirt road and the car bounced off the ruts until you spotted a double-wide trailer sitting in the distance.

“Is that it?” You asked curiously.

“Mhm, Daddy should be home. He said he wanted to cook for us.”

Men’s cooking was something you were nervous about. Your dad could barely pour cereal, so you were a little nervous. You really hoped you didn’t starve to death the last week of your trip. Maybe that was why Heather insisted on 'fattening’ you up before you came to Texas.

The closer you got, you noticed that there was a wraparound porch built onto the trailer and there was a two-car carport where a red Chevy sat along with what you assumed was a big shed or a workshop on the property and the gravel road even’d out as Michelle pulled up under the carport.

Sighing, you climbed out of the passenger side of the car. You were just as nervous if not more so meeting Michelle’s dad, Mr. Syverson… the retired Marine than you were meeting her mom. Heather was easy because she was a woman, but you were never good with men. They always made you anxious because you never knew what to say or what to talk to them about.

Guys were just hard.

“My back and butt feel like they’re going to fall off.” You commented as you heard a loud bang and a booming voice before Michelle squealed and ran towards the porch as the biggest man you’d ever seen in your life caught her and lifted her off the ground.

“Oh, my little darlin’ I’m so glad to see ya.”

Mr. Syverson squeezed Michelle before putting her on the ground.

“Shit, girl, lemme get a look at you. Beautiful, you’d tell you’re ol'e Daddy if there are any boys who need to disappear, won’t you?”

“Daaaaaaaad.”

Michelle sounded like she was annoyed, but from her tone, you knew she wasn’t.

Swallowing, your mouth felt dry as Michelle hugged her dad again and pointed to the car. Jeez, was she pointing at you?

You immediately wanted to crawl under the car and hide.

His hair was buzzed short, however the beard that covered the entire lower portion of his face did nothing to hide the handsome face beneath it.

Mr. Syverson looked too buff for his age, as if he was ready to be called back into service at any moment, judging by the biceps that were taxing the sleeves of his t-shirt.

“H-hello, Mr. Syverson.” You squeaked meekly, issuing a half wave.

He’s twice my age.

He’s my best friend’s dad.

He’s way too old for me.

Guys like him would never look at me.

Geez, why is he so handsome?

I wonder how old he actually is.

“Call me, Sy or Dwayne… only my troupe calls me Syverson.” That deep baritone said, and you realized Michelle was getting the bags out of the car and leaving her dad to his own devices.

Gravel crunched underfoot as you spotted a pair of worn car-hart boots appear as you gazed down at your sandal clad feet.

Oh, sweet cheddar cheese on a ritz he was squatting down to get a good look at you and before you could lift your eyes up and reply, he tucked the calloused pad of his index finger under your chin and lifted your head up.

“What’s wrong, Sugarbear? I don’t scare ya now do I? Hm, cat got your tongue, pussycat?”

“Daddy, don’t tease YN too bad. She ain’t used to being around big ole Texas rough necks.” Michelle laughed.

“Is that all?” Sy asked, glancing back at Michelle for a second before the world was suddenly spinning and you were upside down.

“Ah!” The world righted itself a second before you realized the scream you heard wasn’t from yourself but Michelle and you were both being carried over Mr. Syverson’s shoulders into the trailer.

“Well, I think we can get'er used to us ol'e Texas rough necks over a week don’t you Pumpkin?” Sy asked with a husky laugh and you felt the flat broad part of his palm squeeze the back of your thigh causing the muscle to quiver. An act you were sure that Mr. Sy… Dwayne didn’t miss as he sat you and Michelle on your feet.

The living room of the double-wide was enormous, bigger than the living room of your own New England childhood home. And it was dim. No lights were on and the only way you saw the dark look in Sy’s deep blue eyes was from the sunlight coming through the plantation shuttered blinds.

“You two get freshened up and keep an eye on my sauce, will you, puddin?” Sy asked, his gaze switching to Michelle, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was pulling her shoes off, perched on the arm of a big sectional sofa that dominated one corner of the spacious living room.

“Alright,” Michelle said before the captain was marching back out of the screen door and you heard his boots thumping along the porch.

“Sauce?” You asked, feeling butterflies battling for supremacy in your abdomen. Men didn’t look at you the way he did, they didn’t pick you up either… likely none of them could.

Miss Heather kept saying you were too thin. But compared to Michelle and most of the other girls at your school, you were already on the heavy side of chubby.

Michelle sniffed before grinning. “Smells like Daddy’s makin’ his famous spaghetti and meatballs. I mentioned to him that you’re from Connecticut and he thinks everyone from New England is Italian for some reason.” She laughed.

“Is it good?” Your brows scrunched up softly.

“Best damn spaghetti you’ll ever eat hands down, and that’s a fact. Come with me and I’ll show you where everything is.”

—

After touring the house, and the backyard with Dwayne kept a vegetable garden, an aboveground pool and his grilling pit you got freshened up and were a little more relaxed, except you couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Sy and he didn’t seem like the shy type.

During dinner, he spent the time flashing you a grin as he went over some of Michelle’s most embarrassing childhood memories and some of his time overseas. Mostly, those stories were censored and you could tell that he was avoiding the ones that still gave him nightmares.

Once you all were too stuffed to eat another bite, Michelle wasn’t lying when she said that his spaghetti would be the best you ever had. You helped clean the kitchen before you and Michelle showered.

The three of you were barely through the movie you were watching when Michelle announced she was too pooped to pop and went to bed.

“Sure, you’ll be alright in here all by yourself, darlin? I can take the couch.” Dwayne asked, as you plumped a nice fluffy pillow and stretched your legs out.

“I’ll be okay but thank you Mr. Syv… Dwayne.”

He stared at you a second longer before nodding.

“Y'need anythin’ y'know where I am.”

How invitation lingered. You swallowed slightly, your thighs pressing together of their own accord.

Nodding, Sy leaned over the back of the couch and kissed your forehead, the tickling bristles of his beard scratching your skin as he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and body wash.

“Sweet dreams, pussycat.”

Once he disappeared down the hall, you exhale the breath you were holding and prayed that he didn’t notice how your nipples tightened beneath the thin t-shirt you were wearing. You could still feel the whiskery kiss he left on your forehead fitfully, trying not to think about what it might feel like between your legs, tickling up your thigh from your knees to the apex of your heat.

No, no, no. You will not think about Mr. Syverson’s mouth.

You won’t think about what he might say as he slid your shorts and panties down and spread your thighs.

You certainly weren’t going to that about that oddly sexy growl thing he did when he stretched. Or how his pupils dilated at dinner when you hummed in appreciation after the first bite of the spaghetti, or how his stare lingered watching you lick your lips before remembering your manners and grabbing your napkin to wipe your mouth.

Why, out of all the guys you could get hung up on, did it have to be your best friend’s dad?

Uncomfortably wet, you tried to reposition yourself on the couch and turned the tv down to a soft murmur before flicking through the channels for something to help lull you to sleep. Reruns of Designing Women won as you tried to just take a few deep breathes and forget all about Dwayne’s eyes, his voice, the way his hand felt on the back of your thigh or his finger under your chin. Even the nickname he chose for you.

Pussy cat.

Like he was personally speaking to the aching little thing between your legs.

Damn him.

You tried to sleep, twisting, and turning. It had nothing to do with the couch. It was incredibly comfortable. It was more because of the discomfort between your legs. You never realized it was possible to crave someone you just met so badly.

Glancing at the clock, it was nearly two in the morning and the trailer was silent save for the soft murmur of the tv.

You could not fall asleep, not with the aching need between your legs. You didn’t even think about packing some assistance to bring with you, but then again, you weren’t betting on Michelle’s dad being a total DILF either.

Relaxing onto your back, you laid your hand over your abdomen, idly stroking the flesh of your tummy where your shirt rode up before you listened closely. Everyone was asleep. It couldn’t hurt anything. Could it?

Sliding your hand up your shirt, your fingers found your nipple and began to graze it with your pointer finger, swallowing a shallow moan that was summoned to the back of your throat as those tingled spread from your nipple to the muscles in your thighs. You bit your lip slightly before you moved your free hand from your side and pushed the elastic waistband of your shorts and panties down.

You brought your hips up, pushing the annoying pieces of clothing down your hips before getting comfortable again. Spreading your folds with your index and ring finger, just like your nipple, you barely touched your clit. Just enough to tease yourself and feel those tingling electric shivers in your core causing your back to arch. The second your finger touched that pink pearl between your legs, you were ready to cum right there, but you wanted more. Backing off each time you felt your orgasm building until you were a soaked mess in the sofa cushions.

“Need some help, pussy cat?”

Your eyes shot open suddenly, heart accelerating in your chest so fast and hard you were shocked that you hadn’t screamed and fallen off the couch.

How did he get in here without you hearing?

“You looked pretty distracted, darlin’.” Syverson grinned, reading the expression on your shocked and embarrassed face. You’d never been caught masturbating before by anyone and now this man, who was nearly a complete stranger to you, had caught you red-handed in the act.

“I-…I’m so sorr-,”

Dwayne shook his head. Who knew what brought him out of bed at this hour, and you hoped and prayed that … if you hadn’t heard him, you were making enough noise to wake him up, or heaven forbid Michelle? In the glow from the tv, you could tell he was wearing a pair of red Texas A & M ball shorts and nothing else. The mask of chest hair made you nearly whimper as he moved your blanket and took a seat on the space of the sofa where your leg was curled up.

“Don’t be sorry, little girl. Mind tell'em me what or…who you were thinkin’ of?” He smirked.

Could he tell? How did he know? You began to scoot up, but his hand caught your calve and stopped you, his firm grip massaging the tense muscle. “Come on now, don’t make me tell you twice.”

The tone in his voice was enough to make your thighs clench together as he laid your foot in his lap and you felt the outline of his cock against the arch of your foot.

“I..I was…” you stuttered as his hand moved to your thigh and paused, his fingers dancing over the sticky nectar that had spread between your legs to your upper thigh and his cock twitched against your foot.

“Is he…someone you know or just some fantasy boy you have a crush on at school?”

Swallowing, Sy’s fingers brushed the outline of your weeping folds.

“I know him..n-not a fantasy.”

A deep, low growl issued from his throat as he pressed the arch of your foot against his cock.

“Does he know you?”

You caught his brow lift as he trailed the tips of his fingers up and down the crease of your folds, coating the tip of his digits in your moisture.

“Yeah..h-he knows me. We … just met.” Your voice quivered as his thumb stroked your clit, in this slow up and down pressure that made your breath halt in your throat and your hips twitch.

“I see,” Dwayne mused, leaning back onto the cushion on the couch, his thumb sliding down and tracing the narrow silk of your slit, massaging you with his thumb. “He got you pretty riled up, Sugar…” he commented, “let’s see,” he murmured, smirking at the whimper that escaped your lips as he took his hand away and he gathered the blanket out of his way.

You needed to stop this. It was so wrong.

Mr. Syverson is your best friend’s dad, but your aching core and trembling hands couldn’t find the strength to muster the will to sit up and cover yourself.

He was so big, brawny. Nothing at all like the few guys you dated from school. He wasn’t like those rowdy, yelling guys from the parties you attended on campus.

Everything about Dwayne Syverson was controlled, exuding authority and discipline. Not something you ever expected yourself to be so deeply attracted to.

The brawny bull chuckled faintly at the tangled ball of your shorts and panties. Tossing those onto the carpeted floor. “Goddamn, baby…you look like you been wet all day.” Sy exclaimed lowly, the deep gravely like growl of his voice actually made you clench and from the way he licked his lips as he caught your eyes, he hadn’t missed that.

“Such a pretty little thing.” He cooed, moving lower on the sofa, one of his hands sliding beneath your thigh, lifting your leg higher as he positioned himself between your legs and you nearly cried from the tingling prick of his beard brushing the soft sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Mr. Syver-”

“No mister, little one.” Sy looked up at you, his maw curling back into a ferocious grin that made the muscles in your tummy twitch and a fresh wave of arousal hit you.

“M-may-be we shouldn’t be doing this…” your voice quaked, terror and desire lacing your vocals.

Dwayne looked at you, studying the very real fear and anxiety in your eyes, and felt his cock throb with desire.

“Why not, babygirl? Y'scared of me, baby? Tell me… I can see ya want it,” his gaze drifted to the aching, weeping little thing only two or three inches from his face. “You want it so fuckin bad sweet one.” But he restrained, trailing his fingers along the back of your thigh in slow soothing circles.

“Y-you’re..my best friend’s dad..” you spluttered out, trying to think of any other reason you shouldn’t let this continue though you weren’t pushing him away, you weren’t getting up. He wasn’t wrong, you wanted him. You wanted him more than you had ever experienced for any other member of the opposite sex in your life. “You gonna tell'er?” His brows flicked up, but his mouth tipped lower, his tongue sliding between your pussy lips, lapping up your honeyed elixir causing you to shiver and mewl, arching beneath him. “You gonna go tell that your best friend’s daddy ate your sweet little pussy, babygirl?” Sy mused as he brought his other hand to your lips, using his fingers to spread you apart so his tongue could lave over your clit in low cat-like licks that made your thighs shake and try to clamp together but he easily forced them back open with an amused chuckle. “Are you going to say… that a roughneck from Texas destroyed your perfect tiny cunt with his fat cock over summer vacation?”

Any remaining resolve you might have had to bring this to an end shattered by his words.

Seeing the struggle die in your eyes, he smiled like the cat that ate the canary as his mouth descended on you once more and gave you his full attention. A strangled moan breaking past your lips, not loud enough to wake the house, and Sy hummed against your clit.

“Taste so fucking good, girl. Pretty as a peach.”

The grin that tugged the corners of his lips made your head spin. How could someone be so sinfully beautiful with just a curl of the lips?

HIs hands moved from your thighs and rested against your lower abdomen, pressing down to hold you in place as his tongue began a ferocious assault on your clit and it took everything in you not to moan out loud as you squirmed beneath his brutal libations as if he were offering a gift to a deity on a dais.

You felt a strand at the base of your navel tug with each stroke of his tongue, the humming groans that vibrated from the back of his throat as his lips plucked and tugged at that pearl between your legs forcing your back to arch up off the sofa cushions as your hand tangled into part of the blanket that was half laying on your stomach and half slung into the floor.

That strand of delicate cord was threatening to break as you neared your orgasm, thighs shivering as you bit into your bottom lip to keep quiet, knowing that there was no way you could stop yourself if you cried out.

“I -,” you choked, tears swimming to the surface of your eyes as you panted, steadily fighting for each gulp of oxygen that your lungs struggled to take in as your eyes pinched shut and your lips fell apart.

In a flash, a large paw moved from your stomach and clamped over your lips like a vice as you came undone. Never once did that beast’s tongue relent, taking you higher until you were free falling back down to earth.

#Syverson #Syverson Smut #Capt Syverson #Capt Daddy #Syverson x Reader #Henry Cavill as Capt Syverson #SMUT #MDNI #Age Gape #Reblog

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percywinchester27 · 2 years

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Don’t ignore this tag!

If you got this tag, you’re on the current tagging list for my series, The new Mrs. Winchester.

I am in the process of cleaning the tag list. I’ll be removing all the blogs that can’t be tagged, as well as blogs that haven’t interacted with the series for the past 7 chapters or more, assuming that you aren’t reading it anymore/ aren’t interested in it.

If you fall in the latter category and still wanna be tagged, shoot me an ask and I won’t remove you.

But please consider that writing the series and posting it has become very difficult for me due to health concerns. It’s a task to look into the screen for a longer duration now... and will remain that way till the problem is completely cured. I am under medication for it, and hopefully, they’ll show results soon enough.

All I ask in return is some encouragement and interaction for work that is absolutely free. It would be nice to know that I’m making a difference with this story.

IF YOU ARE LIKING/ REBLOGGING/ COMMENTING on the chapters, please ignore this post. I will NOT remove your tag.

Thank you!

Tags below the cut

@cosicas-cuquis @daughterleftbehind @maliburenee @spn730015 @aeo10fan @stoneyggirl2 @houseforwhores @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @linki-locks11 @cookiechipdough @impalaimagining @gabavaldman @multifandom-slxt @chalicia @mrswhozeewhatsis @likhelbentin @vividreader @mackiemcb @qveenmikaelson @lightchesters @deanwanddamons @bluedragonflylady @daddys-littlewhitegirl @mlovesstories @sams-bubblegum-bitch @chinosherlock @hoboal87 @sandlee44 @mariaenchanted @little-x-wolf @theanniewisegirl @supraveng @i-is-for-inspiring @fandom-princess-forevermore @sammedeansandwhich @trexrambling @wittysunflower @strawberryycows @joseyrw @agenthellcat @lacilou @giggles1026 @aloneatpeace @perpetuallyoverwhelmed @borhapparker @wafflezo @sammysgirl @goodbyemilkyway

@winnifredburkleismyhero @impalaspixie @edwardsfangirl1712 @fandomoniumflurry

@pbandjellly

#all asks will be answered tomorrow #I overstepped my screen time for today #tnmw taglist clean up #q

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doll-r-t · 2 years

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Pirate!Y/N kidnapping Prince!Henry

"My, my, my. What do we have here? A lost Prince?"

Taglist:

@tumblnewbyy @irishprincess899 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel1122 @sofiebstarr @omgkatinka @enchantedbytomandhenryy @snowbellexx @daddys-littlewhitegirll @pjkimrn @zealoushound, @lunedelorient, @tragicphoenix13, @alexa-fangirl-forever, @vhjlucky13 @bourbonwithice @identity2212

#captain syverson x you #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson smut #captain syverson angst #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #henry!sherlock x you #henry!sherlock #prince!henry #prince!henry x reader #sand castle (movie)#syverson x you #syverson imagine #syverson fluff #august walker x you #august walker #august walker x reader

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diegos-butt · 3 years

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Shopping spree

Summary: The captain’s reaction to finding out you bought new clothes while your closet is already way too full.

Captain Syverson x Reader

Wordcount: >600

A/N: Sorry a very self-indulgent little story because I own a shit load of clothes and can’t stop buying more. Oops.

A/N2: so this has been sitting in my drafts for several weeks, but today is the day it’s finally posted ✌🏼

•••

“What’s this love?” I heard a deep voice behind me. I stood in front of our closet, well, my closet, trying to hide the new clothes I bought.

“What do you mean babe?” I said while slowly turning around after I hid the new sundress in my hand.

Sy held up a bag from my favorite store. Shit that one was still downstairs. He cocked his eyebrow and peeked inside the bag. Slowly he pulled out what was inside.

“Well, it seems like you have gone on a shopping spree. Again,” he said slowly. “Let’s see what the damage is this time.”

“I did not go on a shopping spree! I just went to one store!” I lied.

Sy looked at me with a shit eating grin. He knew damn well I was lying.

“Sure love, sure. So what are you trying to hide in the closet then?” He stepped closer to me, while I tried to close the closet. His hand quickly grabbed the door, trapping me between his big chest and the closet.

“There is nothing new in here.” I tried to suppress a laugh, but failed terribly when a snort left my mouth.

“Oh, I’m sure about that but let’s take a look anyway,” he growled in my ear. “In this bag I have found a new pair of jeans, two new t-shirts and a new top with spaghetti straps. Yes I remembered the term.”

“See? That’s not so bad! Now let’s get away from the closet so you can give me a proper kiss babe,” I said, trying to lure him away from the closet. I even wiggled my ass against him, but he did not move an inch.

“Not so bad? You have more than enough jeans and tops in here!” Sy said sternly, and pointed at the clothes in front of me.

“But I did not have a jeans with daisies on them!” I looked over my shoulder at him, batting my eyelashes. I pressed a kiss on his cheek, his beard tickling my cheek. He hummed and I heard him throw the bag on the bed behind us, before he swatted my butt.

“They do look cute, not necessary, but cute. You’re ass better look good in them,” Sy growled and ran his hands over my butt. “But let’s see what else you got.”

He reached around me and immediately found what I was trying to hide. “Three sundresses? Three? You act like you don’t have any!”

“But these are so cute! And a little sexy,” I winked. “I bought these for you honey. I know you like me in sundresses.”

“Oh shut up woman, don’t try to turn this around,” he said in a low, deep voice. I knew this was all an act. He didn’t mind if I bought something new every now and then, as long as I felt happy, comfortable and sexy in them. After struggling with my body image for a while, I was finally feeling more comfortable in my body than ever before.

Sy pressed a long kiss to my shoulder, and one on my neck, and one behind my ear. I slowly turned around in his arms and cupped his face in my hands. He looked at me softly, and finally gave me the kiss I was longing for.

“You wanna see what else I bought?” I said after we broke the kiss. He hummed and I pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before turning around again. I grabbed a small bag with the logo from my favorite lingerie brand.

“I have a feeling I might like this,” he growled. “Why don’t you put it on, so I can tear it off you before I throw you on the bed and punish you for buying all this stuff?”

•••

taglist: @keanureevesisbae / @klaine-92 / @xxxkatxo / @stxlemate / @oddsnendsfanfics / @amberangel112 / @seriouslygoodlookinggents / @sillyrabbit81 / @pixie88 / @cynic-spirit / @rn7rocks / @daddys-littlewhitegirl / @little-brattyangel / @omgkatinka / @myloveforhenrycavill / @eldarwen333 / @kebabgirl67 / @mansaaay / @memoriesat30 / @marantha / @everleigh44 / @somethinginthewayiam / @themanfromu / @mis-lil-red / @aerynscrichton / @m07belzen / @greensleeves888 / @1960memories / @legendarywizarddetective / @alexa-fangirl-forever / @kingliam2019 / @introvertedmouse / @irishprincess89 / @henrycavillisbae / @traceyaudette / @ysmmsy / @inanna999 / @absolutepie / @beck07990 / @katie272903 / @enchantedbytomandhenry / @wonderlandfandomkingdom / @zealoushound / @pandaxnienke / @wheretheriversrunintothesea / @cavillsharman / @starstruckkittyangel / @kat2212 / @rmtndew / @happydistraction

I operate one taglist. If you want to be on it, let me know. If you want off, let me know as well 💗

#captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x you #shopping spree #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x you

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batgurl1989 · 3 years

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Mission Possible

Summary: A re-imagined ending for Mission Impossible: Fallout. A better ending for August Walker.

Word Count: 3624

Warnings: Talk about his injury. Possible Spoilers (?)

A/N: I know August is lovable the way he is, but maybe he doesn’t have to be the villain. This has not been edited, so all the mistakes are my own.

Taglist: @rmtndew @henrynerdfan @cynic-spirit @princesssterek @daddys-littlewhitegirl @diegos-butt @lharrietg @kebabgirl67

His cell phone rang sharply in his earpiece, the phone itself tucked in his pocket where it was safe as he rode the motorcycle through the streets of Paris. He debated ignoring the call. It was probably just work, and he didn’t need another lecture from Erika Sloane right now. Especially not while he was trying to pull off a major part of the mission: extract Soloman Lane. Somewhere along the Seine, Lane was being rescued by the rest of Hunt’s team, and he had to meet up at the rendezvous point.

August relaxed when his phone stopped ringing, but it wasn’t for long. Police sirens could be heard coming towards the intersection he was approaching. Making a sharp turn down an alleyway, August let out a string of swear words under his breath as his phone started up again.

“What?” August growled; his irritation level already high from the mission not going quite as planned. Hunt had been seen when they had gotten on their motorcycles. He hated being put on this mission with Ethan Hunt, and it seemed like every move made since then only annoyed him more.

“Sorry, babe, did I catch you at a bad time?” August wanted to smack his forehead for assuming that it had been Erika calling him instead of his girlfriend. Your voice was the only thing that seemed able to calm him down, even in such a high stress situation. “I just wanted to see if you thought you would be home by Saturday. Becky is having a garden party and invited us. I didn’t want to give her an answer before talking to you.”

“Sweetheart, can this wait?” August glanced behind him, the feeling of being watched coming over him. He had been having that a lot since coming to Paris. He caught the glimpse of a black motorcycle that he had seen earlier in his rear-view mirror.

“Normally I wouldn’t bug you, but you know how persistent Becky can be.” You sighed, bringing your lunch dishes to the sink and running some water of them. You could hear cars and trucks, and figured August was out on the streets somewhere. You never knew where he was when he went away for work. But whenever he came home, he always had the best gifts and trinkets for you. Not that material items mattered to you. You were just happy to have August home alive.

“That’s true.” August chuckled despite his current situation as he rode his motorcycle out of the alleyway and onto a main road. He glanced in his mirror again but the person following him had disappeared. The road looked clear of police for the moment, and August started making his way windingly toward the rendezvous. “Well, you can tell Becky that I will try to be back in time for her party, but you know I can’t promise anything.”

“I know.” You tried to keep your disappointment from your voice. It wouldn’t help either of you, and you were pretty sure August already knew you were sad without the words being spoken. You watched the water run over the plate even though it was clean already as you tried to come up with something cheerful to say. That’s what you spent most of the time August was gone doing, trying to give him happy news from home so he wouldn’t know how empty you felt without him home.

“You should still go though. I would hate if you missed the party simply because I couldn’t make it.” August didn’t say that he knew what you were feeling, but he knew. He felt it too.

“That would be fun.” You forced a smile, hoping it could be heard on his end. You heard an engine rev, and some sirens getting louder. It made you chew your lip. You knew he was in intelligence, but you didn’t know exactly what his job was. You liked to pretend he wasn’t a spy, but sometimes when you were on a phone call with him, you could hear things in the background that could only make you wonder. But you had gotten really good at ignoring the signs.

“I promise I will try to be back for the party.” August’s voice sounded strained, but then there was no background noise. It was like he had gone into a cone of silence. “Look, sweetheart, I have to go now.”

“I know. I’m sorry to bother you while you are away.” You snapped out of your suspicious thoughts, shutting off the tap as though that would help. You glanced around the kitchen, floundering for the right words. “August.”

“I know.” August’s voice dropped to that low timber you could feel deep in your core. That voice that told you everything he was feeling without saying the words. The voice he only used when he let his walls fall. The voice that was meant for your ears only.

Then the line went dead.

*************************************

“No August?” Becky flounced up to you, her dress bouncing around her when she added an extra spring to her step. You internally rolled your eyes, knowing that she was doing it to show off. You had heard her earlier bragging about how her husband had gotten it custom made for her on his last business trip, a business trip that she knew every detail of. She liked to rub that in your face.

“Not today.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your red wine as an attempt to come off as nonchalant. A part of you knew he wouldn’t make it back in time for the party, but another, tiny part of you had silently flickered with hope that he would magically show up. “You know how his work keeps him busy.”

It was the same vague answer you gave every time he couldn’t attend one of your friends’ parties. They always acted shocked at the news, but behind their masks you could see pity and a tiny glimmer of gloating. It didn’t matter, really. Personally, you enjoyed coming to these things with or without August. It was your friends that made a big deal out of it. They didn’t seem to understand August, not in the way you did. If the whispers around the party were anything to go by, most people thought August was overbearing and controlling. They could believe what they wanted; you knew the real August.

“More wine?” A glass of red wine appeared in front of you, held by a hand you would recognize anywhere. Spinning around, ignoring the wine in your excitement, you came face to face with your boyfriend.

“August, how nice that you could make it and not leave our girl here alone.” Becky gestured to you; an overly sweet grin plastered on her face. She lifted her glass to her lips, but before she took a sip, you caught the words that whispered out of them. “Yet again.”

You felt August stiffen minutely, but otherwise he didn’t give any indication that he had heard her. His hand came to rest on your lower back, a warmth spreading through your body at the contact. His gaze told you everything that he wanted to say to Becky, but he simply smiled at her as cordially as ever.

“Thanks for keeping her company until I could arrive, but if I could have a moment with my girlfriend, that would be greatly appreciated.” August didn’t wait for an answer before he was gently guiding you to a quieter part of the rather large garden. He glanced around to make sure no one was really paying attention to you two before he walked you backwards between some potted topiaries, surrounding you in their green foliage.

“Hi.” You grinned up at him, resting your hands lightly on his chest over his dress shirt. Now that you were alone, you could take a moment to bask in the joy you were feeling. He looked tired, dark smudges under his eyes giving him away, but that didn’t take away from how handsome you always found him. You lifted a hand and ran your fingers lightly over his cheek, brushing the end of his moustache. Whenever you were annoying him, he would threaten to shave it off, but you knew he never would. You loved it too much.

“Hi yourself.” August’s large hands found your hips, squeezing you. His eyes slid closed as he inched closer until his body was pressed to yours. He ducked his head, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You felt him relax after a few deep breaths, shedding his work persona as he did.

“How long do I have you for?” You knew this wasn’t supposed to happen. If he was going to be staying, he would have called you instead of simply showing up to surprise you.

“A few hours.” August whispered, his voice muffled in your updo. You clenched your eyes close, trying to ward off the tears that pricked at the back of them. “I’m on a layover between two jobs.”

You knew he was telling you more than he should, but that he was breaking protocol to make you feel better. To let you know that he had been thinking about you even though he had been busy with work. You fisted your hands in his dress shirt on his back as you hugged him, burying your face in his chest. Even though he had just gotten off a plane, he still smelled deliciously fresh with a hint of man underneath.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me when you will be done this next one.” You lifted your face to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down at you, lifting a hand from your waist to run it over your hair, smoothing back a few wisps that had escaped. His eyes flicked over your face, memorizing your face, and calculating how much he could reveal. You caught a glimpse of the darker August, the August that worked in intelligence and travelled world doing who knew what. His eyes shuttered briefly, cutting you off from his emotions, but just as fast your August was back.

“I want to tell you, but it would break too many protocols.” August sighed, his grip on your shifting as he put some distance between your bodies. You mentally kicked yourself for making him put up this wall between you. There was a sound you could only describe as a growl that came from August. “If things go as planned, I won’t be gone long.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. You had not been expecting him to admit that. Slowly, you tucked your body to close to his again, trying to process this seemingly small gesture of his that was actually monumental. You ran your fingers along the collar of his shirt, dancing them in the hair on nape of his neck as you urged his head down to yours. You tilted your face up to his, meeting his gaze to let him see how much what he just did meant to you as your lips touched.

You kept your eyes open as the kiss deepened. There was something more intimate about keeping your eyes open, letting him see how he affected you. His pupils dilated, focusing intensely on your gaze, allowing you to see each emotion he felt. Your mouth opened to him when his tongue ran along the seam of your lips. His arms tightened around you, pulling you up until your feet left the ground, and you wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively.

You lost yourself in his gaze. In his kiss. In his body. It was so easy to do, that you didn’t realize you had. Time, which was in short supply, seemed to slip away. The heat of August’s body tingled through you, spiralling down to your core, filling you with a want that had become familiar whenever you were with him. His moustache tickled your face, but even that just drove your need for him higher. Small moans escaped your throat which drove August as wild as he was driving you.

Abruptly, he set you down, brushing your dress to straighten it. That’s when you heard Becky’s voice getting closer.

“There you two are.” Becky’s bubbly voice speared through the bubble desire that had surrounded you and August. August gripped your hand tightly in his, letting you know he wasn’t going to let you forget what you to had just started. “Come on, we are about to eat.”

“Actually Becky, August has to get going, and he needs a ride to the airport.” You plastered on an apologetic face. You were mildly sad you didn’t get to socialize more with your friends, but you weren’t going to waste the few hours you had with August listening to socialite’s talk about where they would be summering this year.

“That’s too bad.” Becky pouted, but quickly wiped it away and replaced it with a bright smile. “Not unexpected though. Well, August, it was nice of you to make an appearance. Have a safe flight.”

“Sometimes I wonder how I am friends with her still.” You grumbled as you and August turned to leave. You flashed a smile and a nod to a few friends as you made your way out of the party, but you didn’t stop for any idle chitchat. August’s hand in yours was a constant reminder that you had more urgent things to attend to. You wondered if you would even make it out of Becky’s driveway.

*******************************

You startled awake, your hand flailing to the side to hit your alarm. But as the fog of sleep cleared, you realized it wasn’t your alarm waking you up, it was your phone ringing. As you reached for it, you noticed the time. 1:27 AM. Your heart leapt into your throat and your stomach dropped to your feet. A call at this time in the morning could only mean one thing. August was in trouble.

“Hello?” You cleared your throat before answering, your body humming as every nerve woke up. Sweat flushed your skin, and your heart raced a tattooing beat against your rib cage.

“Is this Y/N?” A man whose voice you didn’t recognize asked in a clipped controlled voice. You knew this man worked at the same agency as August.

“Speaking.” You couldn’t force yourself to say anything more. You knew August was in trouble, and you just wanted them to spit it out. You wanted to scream at them to rip the band aid off, but a part of you was hopeful that maybe you had it wrong. Maybe August was okay.

“This is Ethan Hunt. I am afraid I have some bad news.” The man paused, sighing as though preparing to shred your world. “August Walker has been in an accident.”

“Is he…?” You cut the man off before he could continue, but you couldn’t ask the question that was burning the tip of your tongue.

“His injuries had been severe. We are currently waiting on some test results before we airlift him to a hospital closer to home.” Ethan forged ahead as though you hadn’t spoken. You knew he had heard the desperation in your voice and was thankfully doing you a kindness by not acknowledging it.

He went on to explain some more details, but you weren’t paying attention anymore. You had gotten the news you had wanted. August was alive, and right now that was all that mattered to you. He was injured, severely, but as long as he was alive, you knew everything would okay. You could face whatever treatments and therapies he would need no matter the cost and no matter how difficult they were. He was alive.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to take in.” You tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Ethan finish.

“When can I see him?” You blurted out the first question that sprang to your mind.

“When he was last awake, he declined visitors.” Ethan chuckled, though you had no idea what he was finding humourous about this situation. Then you heard the sound an engine getting louder. “You should be seeing a helicopter landing in the field across from your house any moment now. We are overriding his request and bringing you to him. I suggest you pack a bag.”

You sprang from bed, getting briefly tangled in the blankets. Once you fought your legs free, you went to your window. Sure enough there was a helicopter just touching down in the soccer field across the street. A couple of people jumped from the aircraft and began to jog towards your house illuminated by the flood lights from the helicopter.

Throwing a sweater on over your PJ top, you tossed a couple changes of clothes into an oversized purse you had bought on a whim. August teased you about it, but it was about to come in real handy. You made a mental note to point this out the next time he made fun of your purse choices. You grabbed your phone, but the call had been cut off. You didn’t have time to wonder about the person on the other end before your attention was being pulled to the pounding on your front door.

A short helicopter ride to an airfield, and a plane ride to Virginia later, you were being taken into hospital ward that seemed mostly empty. You had already signed a non-disclosure contract and had been given very strict instructions not to share anything you were about to see with anyone outside of the walls of the room you were about to enter. A doctor had run down all the things wrong with August, but the longer he spoke, the more anxious you became to see your boyfriend so they decided to bring you to him before continuing.

“You can go in. He is awake.” The doctor stepped out of the room, holding out a hand to stop the door from closing behind him.

“Thank you.” You took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what awaited you inside the hospital room. You had been warned that the burns August sustained had effectively melted half his face, and his ear would need some reconstruction surgery. He was in a lot of pain, which you knew translated into he was grumpy.

You eased silently into the room, not wanting to upset him with your presence. It took everything you had not to rush to his side, and grasp his hand that lay limp on the white blanket that covered his body to his chest. It broke your heart to see your big strong man laying broken in a hospital bed with a gown loosely tied around his neck. From this angle, you couldn’t see the damage, but you knew it was there, and you knew from the creases on his forehead that his pain meds weren’t working as well as they should.

“I told them not to let you see me like this.” August’s voice startled you. He hadn’t opened his eyes, so you didn’t think he knew you were in the room. The pain in his voice seemed to break your willpower and you stepped up beside the bed. Tentatively, you brushed your fingers over his. At your touch, he gripped your hand tightly, his eyes opening to stare up at you without him turning his head. The barely contained rage burning in them put you on edge. “You weren’t supposed to come. I didn’t want you to come.”

“How could I not?” You couldn’t help the aggression in your voice. It bugged you that he didn’t want you to be with him when he needed you. You stroked your thumb on his knuckles, trying to sooth both yourself and him before you continued. In a quieter voice you admitted, “I always want to know when you are injured.”

“Are you sure about that?” August finally turned his head, letting you see his bandages. Letting you see his swollen ear, and angry puckered skin around it. If the exposed part looked that bad, you could only imagine what the skin under the gauze looked like. Though he looked angry, August reached up with his free hand to brush a tear off your cheek. You hadn’t noticed you had started crying. “It must be bad.”

“I thought I had lost you. And then you didn’t want to see me.” You cupped his hand to your face, willing his warmth to seep into your body. Willing yourself to understand that this was real. That he was real. Now that you could see he was alive with your own eyes, the dam inside you broke, letting out all the feelings you had been too numb to acknowledge. “These past few hours have been the hardest of my life.”

August remained silent, but he slid his hand from your cheek to your neck, pulling you down to him. It was awkward because of his injuries and the wires running from him to the beeping monitors, but you crawled into bed beside him at his urging. He tucked you into his side tightly with an arm around your back, his hand pressing your head into his chest. You could hear his strong heartbeat pounding beneath your ear, and it seemed to ground you. Calm you.

“I will be okay.” August said quietly as though he didn’t want to disturb the peace his body was offering you. You gently draped an arm across his stomach, careful to avoid his broken ribs on his right side. You believed him. August hadn’t steered you wrong before, and you doubted he would start now.

#august walker x reader #august walker fanfic #august walker fan fiction #mission impossible fallout fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction

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viking-raider · 4 years

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What, may I ask, do I have to do to be on the tag list of Hill Manor? I honestly fell in love with the story, and it's only two chapters, I can't imagine how I'll feel when there's more. Your writing is amazing, and if you could, please, add me to the tag list I would be very glad! I hope you're fine and safe, considering all that's happening rn. Lots of love!! Xoxo

To get on my tag list all you need do is ask! I’m really glad everyone is loving Hill Manor, I’m having a great time with it, and I can certainly add you to the tag

#daddys-littlewhitegirl #tag list #Hill Manor *Fic*

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cinebration · 3 years

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Write It In a Song (Geralt of Rivia x Reader) [Part 2]

Hello hello! I don’t know if this is allowed but I read this Geralt fict of yours a few months ago, “Write it in a song” and god, my heart was 💔❤️‍🩹. I was wondering if we could request a part two, maybe seeing Geralt’s POV, what he thought, did he love her back And get some closure for the poor man, regardless of how happy or sad? Thank you in advance, I hope you have a great day/night!

P.S: I really admire the dedication and creativity you put in all your ficts. You are truly one of the best writers in the fandom.—Requested by anon

Be careful what you ask for.

Part 1 | Part 2

Tagged: @pru-rose, @nicole-lynne, @radaofrivia, @janenyfl, @utterlyhopeful-fics, @itscaitymoore, @kmuir1, @glowingmess, @evergreen-possibilities, @daddys-littlewhitegirl

Warnings: mention of death

Gif Source: frodo-sam

The place smelled of sickness. Even with the door shut and the Witcher outside, he couldn’t avoid the stench.

He didn’t want to go in. He knew what he would find, and he wasn’t prepared.

Steeling himself, he opened the door. It scraped against the floor, unevenly made.

Flies swarmed as the light fell across them. The Witcher waved them away impatiently as he stepped further into the one-room hut.

The home was sparely furnished, and poorly at that, the quality of the furniture terrible. A single warped chair, one lopsided table, a damaged chest in lieu of a bureau. The floor was nothing but hard-packed earth with rushes spread over it. The rushes were soiled, decaying.

It had recently rained. The roof evidently leaked. The earth was muddy in the places it had, cultivating a mildew smell.

A wind kicked up outside the hut. It whistled and moaned through the cracks and holes in the façade. A finger of it toyed with some of the loose strands in the Witcher’s face.

He stopped in the center of the room and finally turned his gaze to the cot pushed against the far wall.

You lay upon it, the sheets tangled about you. Your eyes were closed.

He wandered over to you, stared down at your supine form. You had aged in the years since he had last seen you. The burdens of a hard life had taken a toll on your features, rendering them almost incomprehensible. He had once known you as a full of life, beautiful with inner light.

None of that remained in your face. Gray coursed through your hair, the crooked lines of color matching the lines in your features.

The Witcher dragged the lone chair beside your bed. It wobbled dangerously beneath his weight, but he paid it no mind. He continued to stare at you, his chest constricting.

You lived alone. As far as he could tell, you had always been alone. Jaskier had conveyed as much the last time he had seen you, some five or ten years past. The bard hadn’t said more than that, the silence weighted with more meaning than any words he could say.

It had taken that long for the Witcher to work up the nerve to visit you.

Except he was too late.

As he stared at your slack expression, he wondered if he had ever loved you. He wasn’t sure, couldn’t be when Yennefer loomed so large in his life, eclipsing all else.

What he did know was the deep ache he had felt when you had left. It had been mostly guilt, he had thought. His response to your confession had been ill-considered, and the pain he had glimpsed in you before you had fled had hurt him.

He only brought pain to everyone.

It wasn’t until he and Jaskier had encountered you at the castle that he realized guilt wasn’t the only feeling. When the Witcher had seen you across the room, he felt the breath knock out of him. He had immediately hidden, not wanting to draw your attention, but mostly so he could observe you. His eyes tracked you across the ballroom. You walked stiffly, as though you had lost the easiness that he remembered you for. Your face was blank, no light radiating out of it.

You seemed unaware, but Jaskier had noticed you. It had been his terrible idea to seek you out.

The Witcher had followed him against his better judgement.

Seeing your bitterness and your anger had changed his guilt to shame.

The worst of it was that he knew with shocking clarity that he had missed you.

He couldn’t bear to face you, not after your scathing indictment against him.

He should have, he realized.

Leaving your side, he retreated outside and shucked off his jacket and gloves. Rolling up his sleeves, he searched for what he needed and set to work.

When night fell, he lovingly wrapped you in the only pair of clean linens he could find and carried you out in his arms to the grave he had dug.

He didn’t say anything as he buried you. He only touched your cheek with his rough fingers before covering your face.

He had killed you that night without realizing it, without meaning to. He had killed the beautiful woman you had been, the carefree one full of humor and trust.

Of course he had.

As he covered you with soft earth, he knew it had been inevitable.

He was a witcher. He dealt in death.

#Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt of Rivia #Geralt of Rivia imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #Geralt x Reader #Geralt #Geralt imagine #The Witcher #Netflix The Witcher #requests

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capncassas · 2 years

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Pornstache | P. 11 Finale

Pornstache Master List

Word count: 6.2K

A word, before you get into the FINAL chapter of Pornstache. This story started because of a sweet friend I made here on tumblr. I did my best to include some of her favorite things and, some of mine as well. The whole reason the inmates got together to read this story is because it was her brain child and she requested a story of August Walker as a prison guard. I’m so happy that I obliged. I had a blast exploring this story and the end is… ah, you’ll see.

Thank you all for the encouragement and support. You are all amazing and I hope you enjoy.

WARING: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, this chapter is absolutely NOT suitable for work.

Mentions: Adult Language, Praise Kink, P n V sex, Choking Kink, Spitting Kink, Slapping/Spanking Kink, HEADS UP WE GOTTA SQUIRTER, Dirty Talk – if I missed anything, let me know and I’ll add it in afterward.

If you ever want to be added to my Henry Cavill tag list, always let me know. I am SO happy to add anyone whose of age. If I catch any minors around, I’ll block the crap outta you.

Alright ya’ll, let’s get into the story and one last time, thank you for following along.

The Inmates:

@littlebirdofrivia @smile-sugar @ughdontbeboring @peachatori @daddys-littlewhitegirl @wheretheriversrunintothesea @beck07990 @mis-lil-red @myloveforhenrycavill @enchantedbytomandhenry @kebabgirl67 @foxyjwls007 @lyrarodriguez @cavillsthighs @diegos-butt @thereisa8ella @liecastillo @zandoff @aermaethor @identity2212 @est1887 @maan24 @starstruckkittyangel @evangeline73aster @iamemy4 @donutloverxo @superawesomegeek @slutalexis46 @geisterfvhrer @alexakeylovesloki @luclittlepond @pretty-toxic-revolver @cavilladdict @blavikennbutcher @omgkatinka @lizzystuffsthings @hanelyse @here4thespice

Once you were in the elements again, you were made more grateful for the change of shoes and socks as August escorted you back to the SUV. He was quiet, and if he was afraid, he didn’t show it. You couldn’t trust the CIA. August made that much certain, but could you him? August had a secret identity, John Larkin, which made no sense. Wouldn’t the CIA know about that, being as their entire purpose was to gather intelligence, but they didn’t even know that one of their Agents had a secret identity?

As August got into the driver's seat again, he carefully pulled out of the space. His posture was relaxed, as if this he was on a Sunday drive through town.

August had explained the whole plan. There was no way that you could trade in the car you were in. It was likely that whoever the leak was could track your location using it, so you weren’t out of the woods yet. You need a new ride, one that August knew for sure wouldn’t have a GPS tracking device installed by the government. Now days all vehicles came with a standard GPS system but it was nothing like the technology the CIA had.

Coming to a stop at the intersection, instead of turning into the car dealership, August pulled into the gas station and parked at the back near the dumpsters again.

“I want you to stay here.”

You swallowed. He was leaving you here all alone. What if someone saw you, potentially recognized you from tv and called the police?

You didn’t know if they were looking for you, but you had the feeling they probably were. If someone could get inside the prison to attempt killing you, what were the chances there wasn’t someone else to take their place? You didn’t trust it and August saw as much on your face.

“I’ve been listening to the news all night. If they were going to report your escape, they would have done it already.”

That didn’t make you feel any safer.

August leaned across the console and popped the glove box open. The usual suspects were all inside, except for two things. One was a gun which August took a stuck into the back of his pants and another was an envelope.

Taking the envelope from inside the glove box, he presented you with a fifty-dollar bill from its interior.

“Go into the gas station, get yourself some food, a coffee, pop. Whatever. Waste some time in there, spend a few bucks and then come back to the SUV. When I’m finished at the car dealership, I’ll come and collect you. Just act normal. You’re not an escaped convict, your just on your lunch break killing some time before you go back to work. Ok?”

Maybe it was years of working with CIA and learning facial cues, or you were just that easy to read. August folded the bill in his hand, before his fingers caught your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“YN, I will not let anything happen to you.”

“You promise?”

You did not know what possessed you to ask him, but it was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You always prided yourself on not needing anyone, regardless that having someone to lean on was part of your most intimate fantasies. From a young age, you learned that the only person you could depend on was yourself. No promises made; no promises broken. Sometimes, it wasn’t a lack of compassion or sympathy, but people had their own problems and they were too busy to drop everything to help someone. You needed to be dependent because you didn’t know any other way to live.

His thumb and pointed fingers caressed your chin and in the most confident tone, he said, “I promise.”

His eyes said it all if you didn’t believe your ears. August Walker would not put you in any more danger than you were already in. He would keep you safe until all this was over. As something else lingered in his deep blue eyes, you tried to place it but he was already turning to exist the vehicle.

Cold air hit you in the face as you leaned back in your seat. The sudden silence inside the vehicle made your stomach drop, and you had to fight not to have a panic attack as you looked out the window, watching August walk through the parking lot and then stop at the sidewalk. He looked both ways before crossing the street and you couldn’t stop the sudden urge to rush to him and beg him not to go.

Maybe it was everything from the last twenty-four hours, but you had the silliest notion that if he got to that car dealership, maybe you would never see him again.

What if all this was just a rouse and August was going to call the police once he reached the dealership? But then, what he’d said rang clear in your mind again.

He was asking you to trust him and you had no other choice.

It took a few minutes of heavy breathing before you reached over the center console and took the keys out of the ignition before sliding them into your pocket and opening the car door. You would do what August told you–no matter what your heart said, you couldn’t trust that organ. It had already gotten you into enough trouble. You listened to your gut. August told you to go inside and waste time, so that was what you would do.

On shaky legs, you entered the gas station. A cursory glance toward the registers told you that the attendants weren’t reaching for their cell phones or watching you like a hawk does a field mouse. They were waiting on customers, paying you little to no mind at all.

Slipping toward the back where the coolers were, you tried to force yourself to look casual. The fifty dollars August left you was crushed in your palm inside your jacket pocket as you looked at the drinks. Nothing was appetizing. You were too anxious, but you knew you needed to hydrate, and you also needed to keep your strength up. What if you and August needed to run from someone on foot?

As you walked around the aisle, you began a small collection. Peanut butter crackers, a Payday candy bar, a Hershey’s with almonds. A single serve sleeve of Oreos and Ritz crackers. You got yourself an iced coffee from the machine–even though it wasn’t really iced coffee. It was more like a milk shake disguised in coffee flavored ice cream. Fuck it. You’d been in prison. You deserved this goddamn bit.

On a whim, you got an apple, a banana and a bottle of water too.

Sliding up to the counter, you dumped the contents onto the counter clumsily and didn’t look the cashier in the eye while they rang you up, but you were watching them, regardless. The woman never looked up at you, not even when she rattled off the total and needed to use one of the counter fit markers on the fifty-dollar bill.

You collected your change and stuffed it in your pocket before grabbing the sack and your ice cream coffee and hurried back outside to the SUV.

You couldn’t see August from across the street and fear tried to gurgle up in your stomach under the guise of stomach acid.

Instead of getting in the passenger seat, you climbed into the driver's seat and angled yourself to look out toward the dealership. You weren’t even aware you’d eaten all the peanut butter crackers until your fingers bumped your teeth. You’d eaten a hearty dinner last night, but it was nearing mid-day now. The unforeseen pitfalls of prison life were the system had reprogrammed your stomach with a routine of its own. You were used to eating at a certain time, three times a day, and a meal of peanut butter crackers, a banana, and iced coffee were the first things to hit your stomach.

Perhaps there was something to being hungry because as your stomach filled up and you drank some of the water, you felt a little better when a black Ford Explorer pulled into the space behind you.

It was August.

The entire exchange had taken thirty minutes at the most as you pushed the driver's side door open and hopped out.

“Toss the keys in the dumpster over there.”

August instructed you from the passenger window.

You nodded, hurrying over, and tossing the keys to the SUV inside before hurrying back to the Ford and climbed inside.

“Did…everything go, okay?”

He had the car, but who knew? Was August confident enough to just steal a car at gunpoint and then casually drive across the street to pick up his cohort? Maybe, but his smile told you yes.

“I told you, it’s going to be fine. Now, we need to get as far away from this area as we can. I don’t know who might track us and I’d rather not be here when they put boots to the pavement.”

---

No matter how many times you offered, August wouldn’t let you drive. Insisting that he was fine for a few more hours, and then a few more hours turned into all day. You didn’t know how he did it, keeping himself awake–staying finely tuned on the road.

You hated road trips, even as a kid. It wasn’t anything to do with getting sick; it was that your ass went numb and no matter what, you eventually always fell asleep because of boredom.

The sun disappeared and soon the interior of the car was lit by the dim glow of the console lights. The dashboard clock said it was nine pm when August stretched his back and flicked his blinker to get off the interstate.

A string of motels lined the off ramp, and he pulled into the second one, a Days Inn.

“How about some room service and a shower?”

August looked at you, a tired, bemused smile on his lips as he pulled into an empty parking space.

Food, a hot shower, a bed that wasn’t a cot? It sounded like a dream come true. You felt exhausted, bone weary tired considering you literally did nothing. August wouldn’t even let you drive.

“It sounds great to me, but I know you’ve got to be absolutely exhausted. Tomorrow, please, let me take turns driving for a few hours.”

You were almost begging him.

It didn’t feel right allowing August to shoulder all of this. There was literally nothing else you could do. If he let you drive for a few hours, maybe that might help your feelings. It was a sin almost, the way you held so much guilt and shame. It made you feel useless, as if you were not good for anything in this endeavor.

August tilted his head toward you, his eyes shielded. “I’ll think about it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh as you got out of the car and stretched, twisting, and turning as the joints popped back into their appropriate alignment.

“That sounds painful.”

You glanced back at August, unaware that he was standing so close.

“It’s fine.” You said.

He’d let out a long, breathy grunt after getting out of the car. He was larger than you and his legs were much longer as well. Surely, he didn’t enjoy sitting like that for hours.

“It’s you I’m worried about.”

You commented offhandedly as the two of you walked, both a little stiff legged, toward the canopy that hung over the hotels entry way.

“I’m used to it.”

He grabbed the door and held it open for you and you scurried inside. You were almost certain you were somewhere in Tennessee, but you could have been mistaken. At some point, all the signs blended and who knew how far August had driven while you were nodding off in the passenger seat.

“Looking the way you look?” You asked. Of course, the look of skepticism was easily read all over your face as you gave him a once over. “I highly doubt that.”

August’s chest puffed out proudly.

“You would be surprised by the amount of loafing around there is involved in my work. More than half the field agents I work with look like the Pillsbury doughboy. I’m just holding off my impending heart attack by forcing myself to the gym.”

August handled checking in. Of course, you overheard the arrangement. A man and a woman checking into a motel. Right now, you and August were under aliases as husband and wife. You would be sleeping in the same bed.

At this point, you were too tired to care if August slept in the same bed as you. All you wanted was an end to this nightmare and if bunking down with a hunky CIA agent was what got the job done, then you were happy to oblige.

Two keycards were issued and you slipped one into the pocket of your jacket while you and August went up the elevator.

“What do you want to eat?”

He was looking at the menu the second the two of you reached the room and you were in the bathroom. You’d been holding your bladder for hours and the closeness and possibly made you feel a little too comfortable as you spoke through the slit in the bathroom door.

“Anything, honestly. I’m not picky.”

You were starving, your stomach made some incredibly unladylike noises and had been for the last several hours as you began to strip out of your clothes, carefully hanging them up on the towel rod because you didn’t have anything else to change into. You threw away your scrubs at the gas station and you wouldn’t have wanted to put them back on anyway. Instead, you would just sleep in your clothes.

The shower did wonders for your spirits. Beneath the hot, weak spray – which you were used to in prison – you could actually see a way out of this.

August reasoned that by tomorrow or possibly the next day, the two of you would have made it to his home in Wyoming and from there, he could start gathering intelligence against Ransom and whom ever he was paying off at the CIA but it was still too soon to bring someone from the higher ups in, August needed to know every facet of this operation before he contacted the bureau. One day, and hopefully soon, you would be safe from Ransom, August wouldn’t be in hiding, and both of you could go about your lives.

You could already smell the food when you stepped out of the shower and dried off, noticing for the first time that there were robes hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Suddenly, your night just got one hundred percent better. You didn’t have to sleep in your jeans.

Sliding it over your arms, you finished drying your hair with the towel and slowly made your way out of the bathroom. August was sitting on the side of the bed, drinking something from a Styrofoam cup. It looked to be a dark soda. “What did you get?”

A bizarre kind of excitement rippled up your backbone, making sure your robe was securely closed as you sat down on the side of the bed with him.

“Ordered something called a southwest chicken salad, burgers, fries and Dr. Pepper.” August said.

It sounded like heaven.

You and August tucked into your meal, sharing the salad between the two of you and demolishing the burgers and fries before eventually situating yourselves against the pillows.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this full.” You said. Satisfied.

Moaning, you looked up at the ceiling as you clasped your hands over your belly.

One of your legs was half out of your robe and for right now, you couldn't care less. You were sitting in a comfortable bed; in the plushiest robe you'd ever felt in your life and your stomach was full after starving nearly all day long.

He looked at your legs, but you missed the dark shift in August's eyes. You released a content sigh, causing your breasts to swell inside the white terrycloth robe.

"I'm going to shower." He said. The even keel of his tone didn’t tip you off that there was anything you had done to him, but the tension in his jeans spoke volumes that went unnoticed.

August got up, clearing away the food containers and as soon as he was in the bathroom, you pulled the covers down from your side of the king-size bed and smuggled down, stretching your legs with a small moan of satisfaction.

Your brain said now would be a great time to put the television on. It had been so long since you fell asleep to the quiet drone of the television in your bedroom at your apartment. But you were far too tired. Instead, you rolled onto your side, nuzzling your face into the pillow with a small yawn. You were asleep before you even heard the shower start in the bathroom.

---

Darkness filled the room except for the bluish glow of the tv on its stand at the foot of the bed, but that wasn't what woke you. It was a bone-deep chill that made you shiver as your feet and toes felt like they were made of chunks of ice. August must have turned the heat down in the room when he got into bed. Turning slowly, he was lying on his back, shirtless; the sheet pushed just below his navel. Even in this sparse lighting, you could see the muscles of his abs standing out in sharp contrast, the thick warm blanket of chest hair that grew only slightly thinner down his abs.

One arm was stretched above his head as you tried to turn over, thinking perhaps if you curled up again, you would warm back up since in your sleep you turned onto your stomach. With a grunt, the robe was getting tangled, and you were trying to fix yourself when you sensed eyes on you and you looked up to find August, sleepy eyed and staring at you and the entire top of the robe was wide open, your breasts completely on display.

Fire hit you from your face to your core, having August's dark hooded eyes devouring your breasts.

"What are you wiggling around so much for, little bird?" August asked you.

His tone dropped, deep and husky as his arm shifted from above his head and you watched his bicep flex as he sat up on it.

"I... got cold and then my robe was twisted." You said.

You swallowed hard, pupils blown in the darkness, but it wasn't the light that caused your pupils to swell and dilate. It was him. August gripped the sheet bunched at his waist, moving it as he turned and you caught a glimpse of the dark fathoms beneath the blanket and knew he wasn't wearing anything in the bed as his large frame closed the distance between you quicker than he should have been able to.

"You don't look cold to me," he whispered, a kisses whisper away from your lips.

He was so close and you could still smell the remaining cologne that clung to him like a second skin.

“You look, mouthwatering.”

The pace of your breathing sped up as he drew even closer. Without much thought in the action, your hand moved from beneath you, coiling into the thick tousled curls at the back of his head intent to pull him in when his lips came crashing down against yours in a hard demanding kiss.

Warm honey flooded your senses as his lips tasted yours and he swept the belt of your robe away in a quick motion as you caressed his bare, sinewy shoulder, the muscles beneath the skin rippling beneath your touch before his fingers coiled around your wrist and pushed it down into the mattress beside your head as his tongue swept past the gateway of your lips and filled your mouth.

A moan reverberated from your throat as August pulled your robe open and his knuckles skimmed over your abdomen before nudging your thighs apart and the fire struck your core again as his fingers teased your sex, stroking your folds. He tilted his head, allowing him better access to your mouth, and your tongues massaged against the others before you suckled his own and a jolt ran up your spine, his fingers sliding through the dew of your folds. Reaching the silky sheen of moisture collecting and running his fingertip over your entrance properly lubricating the heat as he brought it up to your clit and added a pressurized swirl around the swelling jewel.

Your breath hitched, a sharp pitch erupting from your throat. Your body tense with anticipation and then suddenly turning to jelly as his finger ran up and down the hood of your clit, your muscles loosening as if you had just sunk into a hot bath only to be simultaneously replaced by a tremble in your knees and thighs.

Months had passed since you were with Ransom, and the same could be said since you’d touched yourself. You had a strong imagination, but not even those vivid images were enough to block out the lack of privacy where you were. You didn’t mean to, but your brain tingled only seconds before your muscles squeezed nothing, pushed over the edge of resistance by his finger on your clit. August broke your kiss, mirth shimmering in his dark eyes realizing what he’d done to you and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“That easy, huh?”

He was still smirking as he moved his body between your thighs and the prick and burn of whiskery kisses traced your jaw while you were reeling from the quick, sharp orgasm that swelled in your stomach. He wasn’t stopping, and his tongue laved over your nipples before his fingers came to snap them between his thumb and the side of his index finger. It was sharp, almost painful, but the pain was replaced by something secondary and stronger. The tingle was dizzying as his palm suddenly came down, slipping your tit. August eyes glowing in the dark as the flesh wobbled and fell firmly back in place with a pink outline of his palm.

For longer than a few seconds, you couldn’t breathe. You’d never been struck – not in the way August just did, confusion reigned supreme. You didn’t think you would have liked that.

“Do it again.” You said.

You begged him, squirming unable to control yourself as your bottom lip trembled.

“Please, August…do it again.”

You were panting hard as his fangs gleamed in the streetlamps that streamed into the room through the sheer curtains.

He caught both of your wrists in his hand, stretching them above your head before his palm came down in a hard sharp clap that rang in your ears as much as the sting throbbed on your skin and you cried out. You were straining against his vice hold on you. You weren’t going anywhere, but it meant nothing to your body, you weren’t in control of it anymore as tears rippled to the brim of your lashes, warm and then cooling in a painful contrast that you were aware of everything happening to your body.

He was enjoying this, watching you squirm beneath them, your aching cunt searching for friction until he ran his thigh between your legs as you arched into it. Your back coming up off the bed as he rained down a torrent of sharp hits to your breasts, alternating until you were panting and hyperventilating beneath them.

The haze that filled your mind was screaming for one thing, try as you might to get the words out, only cries of pure bliss would come, wordless to your lips. Every muscle in your body was vibrating, almost levitating you off the bed.

Your face was aflame, redness seeping to the flesh of your cheeks as your eyes sprang open, lashes matted in tears as you panting. It didn’t matter how hard your back arched, squirming to get closer to him as you scrubbed your pussy against his thigh and you realized, he was laughing, quietly to himself before all the humor left his eyes and his palm struck your cheek, not as hard as the way he’d slapped your breasts but enough to sting before his fingers dug into your cheeks as he held your face still.

“Tell me what you want me to do to this tight little body, you fucking slut.” He said.

Growling as he glared down at you. You shivered, your hips twisting and turning beneath him as your feet scrambled for purchase against the sheets, your mouth falling open in a perfect O to release the pressure on your jaw where he held your face before spit shot hard and fast from his lips, landing on your lips and inside of your mouth.

A cry of desperation erupting as your head rocked back against the pillows, burying the crown of your head into the pillow.

Your body was betraying you in so many delicious ways that you'd only imagined in the very darkest corners of your imagination. You hardly had a second to think as a strangled whimper passed your hungry lips.

August was unraveling your deepest desires in one swift go.

"Fuck me."

You were begging him. You didn't think you could stand it a second longer if he wasn't inside you.

"Please..."

His fingers released your jaw. Another sharp, stinging slap struck your cheek, and you nearly convulsed with the throbbing heat that his hand left on your cheek, but it didn't stop there. It wasn't possible that he wasn't inside you and your pussy clamped down, heat flooding your abdomen as your hips frantically squirmed against him, grinding your slick cunt on his thigh. Those soft little hairs that covered his well muscled thigh adding another level of friction to sate your desire - but only by minor measures. You were desperate for more. Your nipples were hard and aching, as his grip on your wrists above your head never wavered. Instead, his assault continued. August alternated between your breasts and your cheeks. A little tap would come, then a much harsher smack would redden your breasts further.

"That's right, desperate cock hungry little whore. Grind your pussy on my thigh, little bird."

You were nearing the brink of tears, feeling the moisture slid over your temples. He kept taking you to the cusp and then he would move his thigh and watch you try to reach him again. You were so wet and your cunt felt swollen as you looked down at your bodies and saw his cock.

Long and thick, he was totally engorged, standing proudly, bobbing against his toned abs whenever you tried to get loose, to pull him close. Your thighs shivered, covered in a sheen of moisture.

"Go on then, show me how much you want it."

August's voice was nothing but a harsh gravel like a growl as he held you in place, one hand flattening on your abdomen, restricting your movements even while you tried to reach him.

"Fuck!" you said. You were gasping for air as he kept you pinned, whimpering and whining like a desperate and starved puppy. "Please August... please, I need your cock stretching my fucking pussy. I want you to fucking pound my tight cunt with your fat cock. My pussy's throbbing so bad it hurts, please. Please."

Your voice resorting to a tiny, anguished moan that was barely higher than a whisper.

In an instant, he released you, sitting back as he grabbed his cock, stroking as his other hand moved from your stomach and gripped his balls, giving them a squeeze.

"Fuck."

August grunted under his breath.

"You want it so bad, come fucking ride my cock."

He shifted, moving back into the bed on his back, snapping his fingers at you. You scrambled, not hesitating another second as you sat up, your arms slipping out of the robe as you turned onto your knees, begging, and pleading under your breath. You didn't know how he would fit inside you, but you were desperate to have him filling you. As you climbed over him, straddling his broad hips, one hand found your hip helping to steady you while the other reached around and landed a stinging smack to your rear. Your back arched, whipping your soaked cunt over the thick length of his cock, dragging your clit on his shaft.

"Go on little bird, let's see if that aching little cunt of yours can take all of my cock."

August moved his hips and the hot bulb of his cock slotted against your entrance, another snap of his hips and the first three inches sunk into you, spearing you over his length. Not stopping, he pulled you down on him and the shaft of his cock only continued to stretch you to your limits in a delicious ache that made your skin break out in goosebumps.

Despite his urges for you to do – he was the one in control, a clever kind of manipulation as he pressed his hips up and effectively burying himself to the hilt inside you as you gasped, legs trembling as your hand pressed flat against your stomach, the way he filled you making you feel drunk off a haze of lust now that he was snuggly filling your tight wanton hole.

“Full, little bird? Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You managed a tormented nod as you rolled your hips forward and ground your clit against his pelvis only for his fingertips on your hips to dig into the flesh, knowing they would leave bruises like the ones you’d be carrying on your breasts and raw patches on your cheeks.

Soon, you were both moving in rhythm together, your palms flattening on his lower abdomen, each time you tried to speed up his hands would stop you or a hard slap to your breasts or ass would slow you down. Your walls fluttering around his cock.

“August…please?”

You swallowed a lump in your throat the third time he stopped you from chasing your orgasm.

“What’s the hurry, hm?”

One of his brows arching up as the first light of dawn broke in through the window, casting your hotel in a wash of golden rays, turning your bodies orange and sunbathed.

Smirking up at you, August’s hand moved from your hip, locking around your throat as the other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you down an inch from his face.

“Open wide.”

You couldn’t help but obey as he rolled his hips, churning his cock inside your clenching walls. Spit flying against your tongue had you catching your breath as you grabbed his shoulders as he started bouncing you on his cock.

“Put your hands behind you back, hands on your ass and don’t you fucking move them or I’ll keep edging you until your screaming for me to let you cum.”

You automatically obeyed, as if you’d following his orders all your life. Your arms moving behind your back, holding onto your ass cheeks as he pulled you down until you face was against his neck, then he began to punishing pace.

The frantic sound of his hips clashing, the hard steady speed of skin clapping against one another sent you into piercing cries of pleasure. His hand at your throat tightening, his thumb squeezing with his middle and ring finger against your windpipe, cutting your oxygen levels. He felt every time your limbs would grow weaker for the need for oxygen but you didn’t fight him, instead allowing the waves to wash over you and then, his grip would slack, low growling purrs of his voice in your ear telling you to breath and his thrusts would slow to an agonizing pace. He brought you to the edge time and time again. His demands becoming praise.

“That’s my girl, so fucking obedient. Keep your hands behind your back, little bird. Don’t move. That’s right, sit pretty just like that and take my cock. Good girl.”

You were on the brink of crumbling as he purred into your ear before his smeared his lips across your cheek, taking your lips quickly, his arms suddenly locking around your back and you were on your back and August was on his knees, looming over you as he grabbed the back of your knees and hauled you up to him. His hand held your hip as he turned you halfway onto your side, angling you legs just the way he wanted them before he began to hammer into you, his other hand seeking out your clit.

“Good girl… good fucking girl.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead and chest, across his shoulders as your eyes rolled up, it hit like a hurricane, everything tingled as your toes curled up and your back arched, pushing your clit into his fingers that were rocketing over your tender bud. A tight knot forming in the bottom of your stomach when you screamed out.

Your cunt gushing suddenly as you spasmed, ejaculating over him like a faucet, squirting all over his cock as he let out a roar, his cock swelling inside you as thick jets of cum emptied within your devastated walls, painting them white with his seed.

When it stopped, you didn’t know, slowly coming to with August moving over you, brushing the sweat streaking pieces of damp hair away from your face, his lips tracing over the raw, red patches of your cheeks, his hands soothing your temple as you kissed and kissed. For a long time, all you were aware of were his lips, his hands, and the praise pouring from his lips like a prayer.

“Such a good girl, you took me so well, little bird. My good girl.”

That last part was growled, a sense of absolute possession cemented in them, yes. You were his.

“Hullooooo! Yn! Earth to YN!”

You snapped forward, startled. Your thighs were clenching together hard, the bright sunshine blinding you, your cup of yogurt felt too warm in your hands from holding it, transported into a different reality of your daydream.

“W-what?” You asked, confused.

You ran your tongue over your lips again, still tasting sweet from the last bite of strawberry yogurt you’d taken.

You weren’t in a hotel with special agent August Walker, you were sitting by the window in the breakroom of your bank job. You were just a simple teller to the good people of [YN’s town].

“Girl, you were completely zoned out.”

Your coworker giggled softly.

“August is staring at you again.” She said.

You swallowed hard, glancing at the doorway into the little kitchenette were the banks one and only security guard had come in to refill his coffee thermos.

These daydreams were getting worse and worse. The time before you were a Russian Spy and August was your target. You shook your head softly.

“Would you excuse me for a second, Candace? I… I need to do something.”

You had to put a stop to this once and for all. You couldn’t afford to lose your job just because you were mooning over the beefy security guard that was hired a few months ago to take over after the old one finally retired. You didn’t think old Ron even knew how to fire a gun much less stop a robbery in progress.

As you approached, August glanced back at you over his shoulder, like he could sense you coming and turned to offer you an almost shy – yet hopeful smile.

“Miss YN, it’s a beautiful day…don’t you think?” He smiled, showing off his fangs.

“It is.”

You nodded, glancing away as you bit into your bottom lip, maybe this was stupid. He was so handsome; would he really be interested in you?

Candance had her suspicions, and as unhelpful as it was – because your brain instantly went into fantasy mode, she always leaned over whispering that August was looking at you.

“So, I,”

“I was,”

You and August began at the same time and you laughed nervously.

“Please, you go first.” August said.

You took a deep breath and let it out, trying to remain calm even though your panties were soaked from your last trip to the twilight zone. You couldn’t believe you were doing this, but at some point, in your miserably life, you needed to take a chance.

“Mr. Walker, would you like to go out to dinner with me? I… I know it’s a little unorthodox, a woman asking a man out – but well, sometimes you need to be proactive.”

August’s smile turned into a million watts.

“I… like unorthodox.”

Beneath his beard, his cheeks tinted pink as did yours.

“Yes. I’d like to go out.”

You felt dizzy with joy as you exchanged numbers, set to talk over plans outside of work for some night next week.

#mi: fallout #Pornstache #Final Chapter #Henry Cavill #henry cavill as august walker #August Walker Fanfiction #August Walker x You #August Walker x You Fanfiction #Reader Imagine #Dom!August

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ketchs-mistress · 4 years

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So @connieisland wrote a letter from Sy's perspective. It was a great letter! I and others thought it would make a great series if there was letters back and forth. So I approached her with the idea that someone write the responses. She asked me. I said yes! So my format is a little differnet from hers but I hope you guys like this. This is new to the both of us. Link to her first letter is below.

Oh Captain, My Captain,

I knew what I was getting into when you asked me to be your girlfriend. Sure, some days are harder then others. But that doesn't stop how I feel about you. That doesn't stop my love. I'm not going anywhere. Even when everyone tells me I'm crazy. Even when the odds are stacked against us. You are everything to me. When the days are long and I miss you, I hold your shirt close to me. It's not the same, but it gets me through the nights and the days. Your scent fills my nose. It's the closest to having your arms around me. I imagine you on top of me. Your sweet words whispered in my ear. Hehe. Sorry, I'll stop. I know this isn't easy for you either. I know one day you'll be back home in my arms. And I count down those days. No matter how long. Just as long as you come home.

And as I write this, I'm shopping for a care package. You deserve something nice while you protect me and our country. I know some people will never understand. But I do and I'm eternally grateful for your sacrifices. You and your men are doing the best. Just promise me you'll come home. And that when you are home you let me take care of you. I promised myself that I wouldn't cry, so for now I love you and be safe.

Your Bug

Tag List: Tagging some people from her list as well. Line through won't let me tag you.

@beck07990 @loverofallfandoms99 @its--fandom--darling @hoeforhenry @neganslucille1994 @warriorqueen1991 @inlovewithhisblueeyes @infinite-shite @madbaddic7ed @iloveyouyen @thiccgeralt @luclittlepond @demivampirew @hell1129-blog @daddys-littlewhitegirl @iloveyouwhiskey @cavillanche @cavillryarchive @foodieforthoughts @maizyistrash

Let me or @connieisland know if you want to be tagged.

#henry cavill #the cavillry #captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #letters to a soldier #connieisland

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rmtndew · 3 years

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Where Kindness Grows

Chapter 9

Summary: The Great Depression took its toll on a lot of people and some had to get creative to survive. Seraphina’s father decides his solution is to sell his only daughter to a much older man. But when Sy overhears a conversation about the young woman, he makes a decision that will change his life - and Seraphina’s - forever.

(An arranged marriage AU with Captain Syverson)

Pairing: Sy and OFC Seraphina

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of illness, fainting.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16

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The days wore on and it only got hotter and hotter. I worried about Sy working so hard but he was stubborn as a mule and wouldn’t slow down for much of anything. Occasionally we’d go swimming in the swimming hole in the heat of the day, but sometimes he was even too stubborn for that, afraid he’d get behind on work and not be able to catch up. I liked when we got to go swimming, though. He was such a hard worker, always taking such good care of me and the farm, and I liked seeing him carefree and having fun, even just for a little bit. His voice was my favorite sound in the whole world but I think I loved hearing him laugh the most. And if I was the reason he was laughing? I loved that even more.

I tried helping as much as I could but I was so much smaller than Sy and couldn’t really keep up. Not that he wanted me to. He kept trying to get me to stay on the porch under the shade or sit under the tree but I couldn’t do that knowing how much there was to be done. So I did whatever I could. Most days it was just making sure he was fed.

I’d taken to getting up after him in the mornings when he’d go check on the animals and cook breakfast for him. For lunch I’d have to make him something I could carry because he didn’t like stopping, even to eat, so I’d have to hunt him down and give it to him. In the evenings, I’d make sure his supper was ready as soon as he came through the door and then I’d have him a bath waiting. It wasn’t a lot but he always seemed appreciative of it.

We’d been sleeping outside on the porch most nights because of the heat and one night when he joined me after his bath, I could see how tired he was. When he sat down on the mattress he did it with a groan, then rolled his neck around, rubbing at it hard with his hand.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“My neck’s got a crick in it.”

I sat up and moved behind him, resting on my knees. I put my hands on his neck and started rubbing it. My hands were small and probably couldn’t do half as much as one of his, but I could tell from the sounds he was making that at least it didn’t feel bad. I carried on but then I pushed on a muscle close to his shoulder and he grunted loud. I felt it rumble through his back.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked.

He shook his head. “That spot’s tender but that’s where I’m hurting. Keep rubbing it.” I kept it up, trying to do everything I could to make him feel better. He let his head fall forward and moaned. “That feels good, baby.”

“Baby?” I repeated. “I ain’t a baby.”

“You’re my baby.”

“I’m a grown woman.”

He lifted his head and turned his neck to look at me for a second. “I don’t mean it that way. It’s just a name. Like being someone’s sweetheart, or something,” he said. “C‘mere. Give me a kiss. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t. I just...I don’t want you thinking of me as a baby that can’t do nothing.”

“I don’t. You take real good care of me. Look at what you’re doing right now.” He reached his hand back and patted my leg. “Give me a kiss,” he said again. I leaned forward and kissed him. He hummed against my lips. “Love you, honey bee.”

“I love you, too.”

“Come on. Let’s lay down. I miss looking at your pretty face.”

We laid down facing each other but after a couple of minutes, I felt like the space between us was too much. “Is it too hot for me to be any closer to you?” I asked.

“No. I’m always warm, you won’t make it any worse,” he said. “Just as long as it’s not too hot for you.”

“I don’t mind one bit.”

“Then scooch on over here.”

I slid over to him and put my head next to his and my hand on his side. He pulled my leg up over his hip, his top leg kicking out to tangle with my other one. Then he put his hand on my cheek, his thumb softly brushing my skin. It was hot, I couldn’t lie, but he’d been so tired every day that week that we hadn’t been able to be coupled together like we was wanting and I missed him touching me and just wanted to be as close to him as I could get.

“There ain’t enough words for me to tell you how blessed I am to be married to you,” he said. “You know that?”

“Why you always say stuff like that for?”

“‘Cause I mean it.”

“Then I’m blessed to be married to you, too, Sy. I reckon more than you are to me knowing what I was headed for.” I moved my hand to his wrist, letting my fingers run through the hair on it. “And if you promise to always be my sweetheart, I’ll be your baby. No hurt feelings.”

He smiled. “I promise to always be your sweetheart.” He moved his head closer, pressing his forehead to mine. “And I want you to be my baby. I want to take care of you and love on you as much as I can. That don’t mean I don’t think you can’t take care of yourself, though. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Good. Now you go to sleep and don’t snore in my face.”

I laughed. “I don’t snore!” I said. “You snore.”

“No, ma’am, I do not.”

“Yes, you do. You sound like one of the pigs came down with a cold.”

He laughed, his hot breath fanning my face. “You’re being mean,” he said. “I thought I was your sweetheart?”

“You are. That don’t mean you don’t snore.”

He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “You still love me, though? Even when I sound like a pig with a cold?”

“Course I do. I love you no matter what.”

“I love you, too, honey bee. No matter what.”

The next morning was hotter than ever. It felt like the air was choking you just by breathing it in. I was wearing my bloomers and a blouse and had taken to going barefoot most of the day, but I had to put on shoes to hang up clothes to dry on the line. I had to stand on an upturned wash pail to reach it and the metal burnt my feet something awful if I didn’t wear shoes. But even then, I could feel it through them. I was sweating and panting before I’d even gotten half the basket hung. That’s when Sy came up behind me. I expected him to wrap me up in his arms like he usually did and kiss me, rubbing his beard on my neck to tickle me and make me laugh. I was a mite disappointed when he didn’t. I turned to look at him to see what he was doing instead and saw him bent over, looking at something.

“What is it?” I asked.

He stood up and turned around, holding out a frog. I screamed and stepped back, falling off the wash pail. He reached out a hand and grabbed me before I fell over, pulling me back to my feet. “What are you screaming for?” he asked with a laugh.

“I don’t like frogs!”

“What do you mean you don’t like frogs?” He held up the one he was holding so I could look at it. “Come on. Don’t you want to kiss it?” he asked. “It might turn into a prince.”

“Ew, no!” I said, shaking my head. “What do I need with a prince anyway? I’ve got you.”

He smiled. “I’m better than a prince?”

“Course you are. Don’t be silly.”

“Well, in that case, let’s get this guy outta here. He needs to go eat the bugs in the garden.”

Sy took the frog away and I watched him. But something happened, like a storm cloud was gathering around my eyes, swirling around everything but the very center of my sight. I tried to focus on Sy but those clouds started getting closer and closer. My legs felt shaky as the last of the storm clouds took over and I couldn’t see nothing.

“Seraphina, can you hear me?” Sy asked. His voice sounded a hundred miles away. “Come on, I need you to wake up.”

I opened my eyes but everything felt like I was swimming through honey. It was slow and I couldn’t hardly move. But finally I fought to keep them open long enough to see Sy’s face hovering above mine. He looked scared. I tried to push myself up but he wouldn’t let me. He put his hand on my shoulder and pressed me back down. I realized then that I was on a mattress and not by the clothesline.

“Don’t move, stay still,” he said.

“What happened?” I croaked. My voice felt so clammed up.

“The heat got to you. You fainted.”

“Fainted?” I felt panic well up in me. I shook my head, making myself dizzy from moving so suddenly. “Momma took to fainting when she was sick. What if it ain’t the heat? What if I’m getting sick like her?”

“Hey, sush. You can’t think like that,” he said. He had a wet rag in his hand and he pressed it against my forehead. “It’s hot, you were working hard. That’s all this was.”

“What if it’s not?” I asked, tears starting to prick my eyes.

He cupped my face with his other hand. “Then we’ll deal with that together. But right now, I don’t want you to worry about it. Fainting one time in heat this bad doesn’t mean you’re getting sick. If it happens again, we’ll go see a doctor. Until then, I just want you to take it easy, alright? Don’t get out in the heat.”

Sy wouldn’t let me work for the rest of the day, but I didn’t like sitting inside knowing he was out there in the heat working himself to the bone. I felt like I was letting him down, even though I felt too weak to actually help him. The next morning I felt a lot better, so when he was in the field working, I took the basket and went to the garden to gather up the vegetables. It wasn’t a lot but I knew I could sit down and take a break if I started getting too hot. I hadn’t even managed to get half a basket full when I heard Sy coming towards me. My back was to him but I could hear his footsteps. I turned, expecting to see him smiling at me like he always did. Instead his mouth was drawn up in a tight frown. I hadn’t ever seen him look at me that way before.

“What are you doing out here, woman? I told you to stay inside!” he barked.

My heart dropped. “I’m just gathering up a few things so they don’t shrivel in the heat. I ain’t working hard.”

“I don’t care. I told you to do something and you didn’t listen to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it if you’re laying passed out in the sun and I don’t know about it!”

He came and snatched the tomato out of my grasp. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me but I could feel a ghost of Daddy’s hand hitting me and I flinched, stepping back. He stopped and I watched a war wage in his eyes. He gnawed his lip and worked his jaw and gripped that tomato so tight his fingers squished into the skin of it.

“I don’t want you scared of me but when I tell you to do something, I need you to listen to me. Understood?” he asked, his voice tight. I nodded. “I’m serious, Seraphina. If I hadn’t seen you out here and you fainted, you would’ve been hurt a lot worse than yesterday.”

“I understand,” I said, looking down at my feet. “I really am sorry.”

“Go on inside.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, grabbing the basket of vegetables.

I started towards the house and he reached out and placed his hand on my arm, stopping me. “I shouldn’t’ve yelled. I’m sorry. But you scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I said, my voice shaking more than I wish it would’ve.

“I know. But you did.”

I went on to the house and left the basket in the kitchen, then went to the little bedroom that had been mine before I’d started sharing with Sy. I closed the door and curled up on the bed and cried. Just like I hadn’t meant to scare him, I knew he hadn’t meant to hurt my feelings, but he did. He’d hurt them something bad. I could feel it aching in my chest. Crying didn’t make me feel any better, it actually made me sicker, but I finally felt cried out and got up, fixed myself right, and did my best to be his obedient wife for the rest of the day.

I did all I could in the house and made sure he had lunch waiting for him when he came in for it. Then I fixed his dinner and got his bath ready for him that evening, like usual, except we didn’t talk like we normally did. He thanked me for doing it all for him but I was afraid if I said too much I might cry again, so I didn’t speak unless he spoke to me first and even then I kept it short as I could without being rude. Once he was in the bath, I went to the back porch and laid down. I didn’t bother with no lamp or nothing. I wasn’t interested in reading. I just wanted to go to sleep and let the day be over with.

I was on my side facing away from Sy when he laid down next to me. I could feel the mattress sink under his weight, making me slide back towards him some. We laid that way for a bit before he finally said, “Will you talk to me? Please?”

“What do you want me to say?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Anything. I can’t take you being silent like this.” He put his hand on my hip. “Before you, all I had was silence. I can’t stand it no more. I feel lonely without you talking to me,” he said. “I know I messed up earlier. I didn’t mean to yell at you and I’ve been sick about it all day, but I ain’t been scared like that in a long time.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I said quietly. “I just wanted to help.”

“I know that. That’s all you ever do, honey bee. And I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate it, I don’t,” he said. “But I can’t...I can’t lose you. Do you understand that? If I lost you, I’d just die. I would.”

I felt the lump in my throat from earlier come back but I couldn’t swallow it down. “I don’t want to lose you, either!” I said, tears starting to fall from my eyes. “You’re the only person who loves me, Sy! The only person I care about in this whole wide world. What would I do without you?”

“Hey, hey, I ain’t leaving you,” he said, pressing on my hip to get me to lay on my back. He put his hand on my cheek, wiping the tears away. “Why would you lose me?”

“Because you’re working yourself to death out there! You’re trying to keep me from getting hurt but what about you? What am I going to do when you get sick in this heat and I can’t carry you inside? I can’t drive your truck and go get no one. You didn’t want your Ma here by herself when your Pa was sick ‘cause she couldn’t do none of that, what makes you think I could?” I asked. “What makes you think you can’t get sick or hurt yourself?” I was sobbing so hard I was shaking the bed. “I’d lose my whole world if I lost you! Don’t you know that? You ain’t the only one that gets scared!”

“Oh, baby.” He wrapped me in his arms and laid back, pulling me to lay on his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said. “I ain’t gonna leave you.”

“You can’t promise me that!” I cried. “And I don’t want to live without you, Sy. It’s not just that I can’t but I don’t want to.”

“I’ll do better. That’s something I can promise you,” he said. “I love you. I love you so much, sweet girl and I don’t want to hurt you.” His big hand covered the back of my head as he pressed me closer to him and I could tell he was crying, too. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

I hadn’t ever seen Sy cry until that night but we were both so exhausted and scared that there wasn’t much else we could do. But I was glad of it because he was a lot more careful after that. Sy didn’t like slowing down none, that just wasn’t him, but he realized I was just as much worried about him as he was me and he agreed that while the heat wasn’t letting up, he wouldn’t push himself hard no more if he could help it.

About a week later, we got a letter in the mail from Reverend Anderson inviting us to a barn raising party. There was a family that had eight kids and another one on the way and the church wanted to build them a barn and get them a few animals to help out. We couldn’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to have near nine kids during a time like that, the constant fear that they must’ve been feeling just trying to survive, and both agreed it was something we wanted to attend. Aside from helping them out, I thought it would be good for us. We needed to get out and do something other than just stay at the farm all day getting angry at the heat and worrying about the other one being safe. Getting to fellowship with the men and women there was just a bonus.

When the day of the barn raising party came, we got to the property at a little after daybreak and the men were already working. Sy went and joined them and I went inside to see what I could do to help the ladies. I was excited to see Mrs. Anderson and Edith and Dinah, as well as a few of the other women I recognized from the social. There was a lot of new ladies there, too. Some came in and out, helping all they could before returning to their own homes. The younger girls kept track of the little ones, playing with them all in the yard and keeping them entertained and out from under foot of the men working.

I enjoyed being with the women but that didn’t mean I didn’t still want to see Sy. Every once in a while I’d step outside just to catch a glimpse of him, or I’d take him down something to drink. One of those times I saw him pulling up his shirt to mop the sweat from his forehead and just seeing his stomach and chest made me think things I shouldn’t’ve been thinking with other folks around.

“Y’all are working awfully hard,” I said as I finally made my way over to him. He was standing alone under a shade tree and I handed him a glass of water. “You’ll have this thing up and finished before we even get supper done.”

“I don’t know about that.” He took the water but didn’t drink any of it. He was eying me all concerned. “You look a little flushed. Is the heat getting to you? Maybe you should go back in.”

I shook my head. “It ain’t the heat.”

His forehead creased. “What is it?”

I bit my lip as I looked up at him. “You.”

It took a second for it to dawn on him what I was talking about, but once it did, he smirked at me. “Is that right, Mrs. Syverson?”

“Yes, it is, Mr. Syverson. But don’t get all prideful about it,” I said. “You’re the one tempting me in front of church folk.”

He laughed. “Tempting you? What on earth am I doing to tempt you?”

“I saw you raising your shirt up and…” I shrugged. “You know how I feel about that.”

His smirk turned into a full on grin. “Yes I do.” He bent his head down to look at me. “You thinking about touching me? Running your fingers through my hair?” he asked quietly. “You like it, don’t you? You like how strong I am, too. You like feeling all those muscles, like knowing what they can do.”

“You need to shush it,” I said, laughing but feeling my face burn hotter than ever. “You’re being wicked right now.”

He laughed again. “How am I being wicked? I’m just talking to my wife.”

I shook my head at him. “You’re making me feel all antsy and I don’t know how to make it go away with everybody around,” I said. “I didn’t ever feel this way until I met you, so this is all your doing.”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait until we get home and I’ll take care of it for you,” he said with a wink.

“Then you better get to building that barn, Mr. Syverson.”

I started to walk away and he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me back. “Now wait just a second,” he said, caging me against the tree. “I got one question. It’s important.”

“And what’s that?”

“You said you didn’t ever feel this way until we met. Don’t you mean kissed? Or touched?” he asked, his smirk coming back. “Because we met quite a bit before any of that happened.”

I felt swallowed up by the heat, half embarrassed about what he was asking. “Now you really are being wicked,” I said quietly.

“How soon after we met? The first time I held your hand?” he asked. I shook my head. “After that?”

“Before,” I admitted. “You remember my first day on the farm? I got scared ‘cause Betsy came up to me and you were being sweet and introducing me?” That look of confusion came back, maring his prideful smirk for a second. “You were standing right behind me, your hand on my hip… That’s why I left you in the field. No man had ever touched me like that, even innocently. And then you got caught in that rainstorm and you pulled off your shirt and I...I hadn’t ever seen a man that looked like you before.”

“And you never said nothing?” he asked, giving me a gentle smile.

“What was I supposed to say? You married me because you felt sorry for my situation and you were too good a man to let me marry someone like Jud. You didn’t even know what I looked like when you paid Daddy,” I said. “I was just happy that you were kind. I wouldn’t’ve ever expected anything more. But you’re handsome, Sy. There’s no way around that and you being sweet to me, it did make me feel a particular way. Not the same as I feel now, that happened after we kissed, but it was the planting of it.”

“Hey, I never expected anything more, either,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I thought I’d be alone as a man for the rest of my life and I was fine with that. I was just happy to have you to keep me company. And I thought you were pretty when I met you but your tender heart, your caring for everything, it made me see just how beautiful you truly are. That first day on the farm, when you were telling me about how you lost your momma and how you loved her so much you prayed that she wouldn’t suffer no more, even if it meant leaving you?” He nodded. “That planted something in me, too.”

I wanted to kiss him right then and I could see in his face that he wanted to kiss me, too, but we both knew it wasn’t appropriate. There were a lot of people around and we were probably being indecent as it was being so close, but just sharing that moment between us was nice.

I went back to the house and helped the rest of the women prepare the supper but we weren’t the only ones cooking. As we were taking the food out to the tables that had been setup that morning for breakfast and had stayed up through lunch, other women from the church showed up, bringing food they’d cooked at home. Some of them stayed - like Ruth and Dr. Bradford - while some of them just brought the food and left. But by the time the men were done building the barn, there was a whole mess of food waiting on them.

Me and Sy sat on one of the picnic blankets in front of the brand new barn to eat. Reverend Anderson and his whole family joined us. I enjoyed it. Even though I was feeling a little fuzzy headed and a mite sick to my stomach from the heat, I liked talking to them all. And getting to see Sy laughing and joshing around made me happy. We was just finishing up our food when one of the new goats the church had bought the Henson family got loose. He charged right across our picnic blanket and Sy, the Reverend and his son Edward hopped up and took chase after it. I hadn’t realized how fast a goat could be until right then. All that excitement and moving while looking after them made me dizzy and then that eerie feeling of storm clouds swirling around my eyes came back. My head felt cold as everything clouded up and then it was like I got swirled up with it.

When I woke up, it wasn’t like swimming through honey like the first time I’d fainted. It was with a sharp headache and nausea. Someone brought me inside the Henson house and put wet rags on my neck and forehead. Dr. Bradford and Ruth sat with me as I told Dr. Bradford about how I’d fainted before and explained how the heat had been making me weak, then I told him about Momma being sick with fainting. I asked if he thought it could be the same as her. He asked me questions - about my illness and Momma’s - but then he asked me something I hadn’t thought of and I felt about like fainting all over again.

I was still sitting on the bed when I heard Sy come in the house. He was shouting for me and he sounded panicked. Dr. Bradford stepped outside the room to let him know where I was, and Sy came charging.

“Hoyt, calm down,” Ruth said as he appeared in the doorway. “You’ll overwhelm her.”

He looked at her. “I can’t calm down. Not when I’m worried about my wife.”

“Ruth, let’s give the two of them a moment of privacy,” Dr. Bradford said. “Mrs. Syverson, if you or your husband need me, we’ll be out on the front lawn.”

“Yes, sir, thank you,” I said.

Dr. Bradford left with Ruth, closing the door behind them. Sy came over and dropped down to his knees in front of me. He put his hand on my cheek. “Are you alright, honey bee?”

“I fainted again but I’m okay.”

“I knew you looked flushed earlier and it wasn’t all because of me,” he said. “You can get mad at me all you want, but I ain’t letting you lift another finger until this heat lets up.”

“It ain’t the heat,” I said. “At least not all of it.”

His eyes met mine. “Does Dr. Bradford think it’s like your momma’s illness?” he asked and I could tell her was scared to know the answer.

I shook my head. “No. But I did ask him. I was worried about it, too.”

He looked confused. “What does he think it is?”

I took a deep breath and grabbed Sy’s other hand and pulled it up to my belly, pressing his palm flat against it. “It seems like you’re going to be a Papa,” I said.

His eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“I can’t be positive but Dr. Bradford seems to think so,” I said. “All my ailments could be caused by something else but he asked when I had my monthly blood last and I realized I should’ve had it weeks ago. I’ve been early some and I’ve been late some but I ain’t ever missed it by weeks.”

“I’m really going to be a Papa?”

I nodded. “It seems so,” I said. “Are you alright with that?”

“Alright? I’m more than alright. You just made me the happiest man in the world!” There were tears in his eyes as he looked down at his hand still pressed to my belly underneath my own hand. “We're gonna have us a baby,” he whispered.

I ran my hand tenderly over his head and then leaned forward to kiss it. “I think we are.”

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Captain Syverson #Captain Syverson fan fiction #Sand Castle Netflix #Sand Castle fan fiction #Henry Cavill fan fic #Captain Sy fan fiction #Where Kindness Grows

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