Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them…
Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.
. . .
After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.
You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part.
So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least.
But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.
Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown.
It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.
And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.
“God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more.
“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.
“Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire.
“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.
“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him.
“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.
MASTERLIST
. . .
I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—
Warnings: this fic contains stalking and violence. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
18+ only, explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
You voted, I wrote it. This is the next June fic! (It’s late. Sorry)
Syverson + “I gave you a chance to play nice.”
I welcome and appreciate all feedback. This means replies, reblogs, and asks. I do prefer if you can reblog and share my work along with your thoughts. <3
“Please. I have a video. Several.” You beg the officer as his interest clings to his phone. “I kept a notebook. Tracked everything. Just like you said.”
“I said?” Officer Garret frowns as his phone makes chinging noises as he makes a combo move in whatever mobile game he’s addicted to.
“Well… the last officer. That what he said to do. Make notes, take pictures. I did it all. The marks on my door, the letters left at my door, the gifts–”
“So you’re reporting a secret admirer?” He scoffs.
“I’m reporting… I’m terrified. This man won’t leave me alone. I have video of him looking in my window! He climbed the fire escape and–” You sigh and throw up your hands, clapping them back down on the notebook full of time-stamped notes. “I just want to be left alone. He’s been calling me, texting me. All these weird things. Pictures of me on the bus and at work.”
“Right.” He puts his phone down and crosses his arms, “how would I prove these are aggravated? That this isn’t some friend pulling a smart one trying to scare you?”
“It’s been over a year, please. I’ve filed six reports. You told me– They told me this was the right way.” You beg. “You have to help me.”
He stares at you. He takes a deep breath and rolls his chair closer to his desk. He sits up and sniffs.
“Sure, a seventh report.” He clicks his mouse with a roll of his eyes. “The eight will be obstruction charges.”
You blink, stunned. All you’ve done is what you’re told. Don’t wear ear buds, stay aware, lock your doors, don’t take the same route every day, keep a record…
“Forget it.” You hiss and stand up, gathering your notebook and purse.
You turn and stomp out at the officer chuckles. You hurry out, face on fire, chest fuming, hands shaking. As you come outside, you rub your temples and sigh. Your heart races as helplessness tingles through your body.
What do you do? What can you do? You tried and done everything! You just want whoever it is to leave you alone.
It’s not like you have friends. That you draw attention. You do everything not to. You’ve never been a fan of it. You go to work, clock in, hide in your cubicle, and mind your business. Then you go home, making yourself as small as you can on your commute, and lock yourself in your tiny apartment. You pay everything on time and rarely venture out of your space. Especially since this all began.
You look around warily. There’s nothing out of the ordinary. People pass you by without notice. Whoever is watching you, is subtle. Clever.
You turn down the road and head to a different bus route than the one you took there. That’s one of your tricks, not that any of them work. You wait a couple minutes before the bus comes and step on.
As everyone else buries their noses in books or screens, you’re alert. You sit in one of the side seats so your back is to the windows. There’s no one that stands out to you. You listen to the sniffles, the coughs, and the conversations. You get off two stops early and walk the rest of the way.
You approach your building with key in hand. You can feel the vibration of your phone in your purse. They’ve grown more steady the closer you get to home. You grip your key, ready to jab at anyone who might sneak up.
You check over your shoulders as you unlock the door. You go inside and close it until you hear the latch slide back into place. You take the stairs. You check behind you over and over and over. Until you’re dizzy.
You reach your apartment door and unlock the three locks on it. Your landlord won’t be impressed at the additional hardware. You lock each from the inside and double check the handle. You walk through the apartment, turning on every light; not that there’s more than the walk-through kitchen, the living room, bedroom, and bathroom. You even check the singular closet.
Alone, not safe. You put down your notebook and pull your bag into your lap as you sit on the sagging couch. You open your phone. There’s messages from six different numbers, on Instagram, through email. You can’t do it anymore. You can’t.
You put the phone down and push your bag off your lap. You stand and grip your head. You pace until you can catch your breath.
You go into the kitchen. You need water. You reach for the cupboard and stop. What the hell?
The knob is reattached. You’ve been struggling for weeks with the thing. Your landlord has ignored all your maintenance requests. So you leave it open or claw at the edge until it pops open. But now, the knob is back in place. Somehow.
You grab it and try to wiggle it. It’s screwed in tight. You open the cupboard. You can see the screw is new and the way they were able to fill in the wood to hold it. Maybe your landlord did it but you never received notice…
No. You really don’t think it was your no-good overlord.
You cover your face in exasperation. What can you do? You’re out of options. The police don’t help. You don’t have friends. Your family is only that by technicality.
You drop your arms and scurry around the wall to the front room. You grab your phone; block number, block, block, block. You tap app icons and go through the tedious steps; Account Settings; Delete Account; Are you sure? This is an irreversible action. Yes, yes, yes.
You don’t exist anymore. You’re nothing. You’re no one! Leave me alone!
You slam your phone down and huff. You just want it to stop. You need it to stop. Whoever it is just needs to go away. Why won’t they just get the message? You don’t want them.
💜
You haven’t slept in your bed in months. You’re never tired enough, calm enough to settle down. You stay on the couch and watch TV in a daze. To the detriment of your back as you feel the metal frame of the couch through the worn down cushions
Your head pounds and you close your eyes. You lean back and let your body slacken. The tension never truly goes. You listen to the conversation of fictional characters with more interesting lives than yours. Safer too.
Your mind swims as the room turns to static around you. Your skin prickles and your ears ring lowly as fatigue washes over you. You need to move. You need to get away from this place. From them.
Your eyes snap open as you sense a shift. The TV’s still on but the lights aren’t. You don’t turn them off when you’re home. Never.
The metal frame of the couch creaks. Your mouth opens, ready to scream, as a hand strokes your arm. Before your horror can erupt, a finger presses to your lips.
The figure hushes you. “It’s okay. It’s just me, honey.”
Your heart lurches and your stomach knots. You’re nauseous as the deep voice infests your ears. You shake as this thick finger traces your lips. The man hums.
“I was scared. You disappeared.” He drawls as he continues to pet your arm. “Right after you were with them police… I thought… something happened.”
You shudder and heave in a shaky breath. You turn to look at the shadow turned real. The man is big. Much bigger than you. Burly. HIs blue eyes twinkle softly in an otherwise coarse face. His head is shaved, brows and beard thick, nose as rugged as his square jaw. You quiver.
“Who… who are you?”
He smiles and cradles your chin. “What? You know me. Honey, I know you get my letters. My messages. My calls.”
Your eyes sting with fear as you lean away from him. He catches you around the throat and tuts.
“You’re not running away from me, are you? That’s not why you were talking to Officer Garret.” He growls.
You blink. “How–”
“How can I keep you safe if you hide?” He snips over you.
Your lashes flutter and you grab his wrist. With both hands as you realise how thick it is. You try to push him off. “Let me go.”
“Honey, calm down. I’m just checking on you. Making sure you’re okay. You scared me.”
You stare at this stranger, this spectre who’s haunted you for so long. You shake your head.
“You. Scare. Me.” You whisper.
He frowns and his hand shakes. Then he lets you go and rubs his palms together. He slumps but it does little to lessen his size.
“No, I don’t want that. I just want…” He looks at you again and reaches for you. “I just want to take care of you.”
He touches your cheek again. He turns his hand and brushes his knuckles along your skin. A surge of frustration and fear swells in your veins. You turn your head and sink your teeth into his thumb.
He grunts and recoils. You let go as his other arm swings out. He backhands you off the couch with a crack that has your ears humming. You land on the hardwood with an oomph. You roll over and crawl away from him.
“Stop! Please! Leave me alone!” You cry out. You suck in air as you push yourself higher on your hands and knees. “Someone! Anyone! Help–”
He steps over you and smothers your shouts with his large hand. He hooks his other arm around you and scoops you off the floor easily. You thrash and claw at him as your voice evaporates behind his roughened palm.
You bow your head forward and throw it back. You feel and hear the impact. He snarls and shakes you, barreling ahead to crush you against the wall. He knocks the breath from you. He pulls his arm from around your middle and grips the back of your skull. He pins you to the wall by your head. He sniffs wetly and snorts.
“I gave you a chance to play nice.” He growls. “I didn’t want it to be this way.”
Hello all!
Just a little sherlock one shot that was cooking up in my head! God I love that man!! I promise We'll get back to the regularly scheduled program soon! I PROMISE!!!
Summary: Sherlock is busy with work, and you try your best to stay out of his way but you can be quite fussy when you want his attention.
Warnings: Cursing. Sex MDNI, P in V sex. Fingering, Multiple Orgasms. Creampie. Unprotected sex. dirty talk. Sherlock being painfully handsome! Soft Dom sherlock
Entranced, yes that was the word. I was fully entranced just watching from the doorway. The bright morning sun streams through the window of the study, casting a warm glow around him as he works. His features are almost angelic, of course; truly, he was anything but. The thought causes a soft giggle to escape my lips.
“If you were trying to be discreet, you’ve blown your cover,” he says, his voice low, smooth, and calm. There’s an ever-present smirk on his face. Throughout the whole interaction, he never once looks up from his desk. Another giggle escaped me, and I took a few steps into the study.
“Not sneaking, simply admiring.” I smile. “You’ve been working at this one for quite some time,” I tell him. I walk over to his desk, standing behind him, my hands gently resting on his large shoulders. His smirk grows wider, and he hums softly. I feel myself gasp as the detective captures one of my hands from his shoulders and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm.
“Yes,” He says, his voice steady and strong. “And still much more work to do. I don’t want to keep you cooped up in here watching me go mad. It’s a beautiful day, darling. Why don’t you go take in some of that lovely sunshine we’ve been blessed with, and I’ll work on finishing up here.” I bite my lip, my eyebrow raised in question, but I hold back my protest. Sherlock is a busy man. I’ve always known that. He never blatantly tries to ignore me or keep me otherwise occupied. So I nod, giving him a soft smile. I lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Okay, my love, please try not to go too crazy, will you?” I giggle. The request earns me a chuckle, and he looks up briefly to meet my gaze as I move to leave his study.
“I shall do my best, my darling.” He says before turning back to his work, leaving me alone again with my thoughts. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right; as always, I shouldn’t waste away in this flat waiting for him to finish his work.
So I do head out to town for a while. I walk the streets of downtown London in the warm spring air, breathing life into me. I stop at the market to see what fresh flowers they’ve got. Baker Street could certainly use a touch of color, and I know Sherlock won’t mind. After picking out a few bunches, my basket full of florals, herbs, and a few baked goods, I make my way back to the flat. It’s late afternoon now. I busy myself arranging the flowers in vases and putting away my other goods.
I still haven’t heard a sound from Sherlock. Peeking my head into his study, I see he’s still right where I left him. I sighed and shook my head. With nothing better to do I join him in his study. I scan his shelves for something to read, it’s been one of our favorite ways to spend quiet time together lately. Lying together in the garden, reading our respective stories. I look over at him again; still lost in his work, he’s probably barely even noticed my presence. Finding a story that is a particular favorite of mine I curl up on the chaise and open the book.
This may not have been nearly as good an idea as I’d thought. Since I woke this morning, I’ve been craving Sherlock's affections. Sitting so close now, only to be ignored and left unnoticed, has only annoyed me. I let out a huff, sitting up and looking over at his desk… nothing. I sigh and turn back to my book. I lie back, settling in again, struggling to get comfortable. Another hour passes. Or at least it feels like an hour. I suppose I can’t be sure. And I feel as if I’m going to go insane. I let out a groan of frustration.
“Not enjoying the story?” He asked, a smirk on his lips. He’s far too smart to believe that is the source of my plight. I pull back from my book far enough for him to see me roll my eyes, and he chuckles. “I do so love watching you squirm.” He says with a dark glint in his eye. And finally, he lays down his pen and slams his book shut. I raise an eyebrow at him, not daring to speak a word, but my eyes are full of challenge.
“I was hoping to spend a nice relaxing evening with you, my darling,” he teases. “But seem’s you needs an attitude adjustment.” He’s standing behind me, his breath hot on my ear as he purrs. “Am I going to have to fuck it out of you darling? Or are you going to apologize for being so bratty and impatient?” My mouth goes dry, and my body is suddenly on fire.
“S-sherlock.” I gasp. “I- my love, I didn’t intend to … I-” I stutter, trying to find the words, but it seems all competent thoughts have left me. This is just how he wants me. This is exactly what I meant, Sherlock is no angel. He likes to play dirty. Make me flustered and shy and needy. He won’t stop until I’m begging. Nothing gives him more pleasure than making me tell him all the dirty things I’d love him to do to me. All it takes is a look, and he has me melting. And as annoyed with him as I am for turning me into a brainless, incompetent, desperate woman. He knows this is exactly what I’ve been needing all day.
He chuckles and steps around the sofa, standing in front of me. He takes the book from my hands, tossing it to the side. He leans over me, a primal look in his eye as his knee gently parts my thighs and he hovers over me on the sofa.
“What didn’t you intend to do, my love? Hmm? Did you not intend to huff and pout for my attention? Is that it?” He smirks, nipping playfully at my ear as he chuckles darkly. “You just forgot your words, didn’t you darling, just forgot how to ask properly. It’s alright, my sweet. I’ll remind you.” He purrs his lips trailing down my jaw and neck as his tongue traces my collar bone.
“I’m sorry, my love.” I pant, my chest heaving. Instinctively, I tilt my head back to allow him better access. He lets out a feral growl, and his hands squeeze my hips possessively as he starts to explore my body with his touch.
“Oh, I know you are my sweet. And I’m going to give you the attention you so badly need.” He smirks, his hands slide under my skirt gripping my thighs, a low growl escaping him as he kisses my neck. I let out a soft needy moan my body arching into his my thighs naturally spreading to make room for him. He chuckles his breath tickling my skin where he’s biting at my collarbone.
“Still so impatient; you haven’t learned your lesson, have you my darling?” he cradles my face in his hands, kissing me passionately. His tongue explored my mouth as we kissed. When he pulls back, he grabs my wrist, nearly dragging me off the chaise. Before I can begin to fall, he catches me, holding me against his chest. “Now what should I do with you?” He purrs. I look up at him, my eyes blown wide with lust and desire.
“Sherlock, please,” I begged, my voice weak and pathetic. He lets out a low growl that I can feel deep in his chest. He grabs me around the waist, picking me up he holds me tightly with one arm as the other sweeps the papers from his desk. He sets me down and steps between my parted thighs.
“Please what, my love? Hmm? Ask for what you want darling.” He teases his hand, slowly creeping up my thigh again. his fingers graze the fabric of my panties, and my breath hitches.
“I-I can’t.” I blush, biting my lip. Sherlock chuckles his other hand gripping my chin to make me look at him.
“Yes, you can, sweetheart. You’ve had those filthy little desires playing in your head all day. And I want to hear every detail,” he growls. My breath catches in my throat as I hold his gaze.
“T-touch me,” I beg and grab his wrist, pressing his fingers more firmly against my core. “Here, please,” I whine. Sherlock lets out another low growl, capturing my lips in a searing kiss as he starts to slowly rub me through my panties. I whimper and arch into his body.
“So wet already. You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He smirks, and finally, he slips his fingers beneath the fabric of my panties, pushing two inside me, curling them as he starts to pump them in and out. I let out a desperate mewl, my hips moving, grinding on his hand. He moves his thumb to rub circles on my clit. He smirks as he watches my face contort with pleasure. “That’s it, my love. So beautiful when you’re like this. So desprate for my affection. He adds a third finger and pumps them faster, curling them just right so I’m seeing starts. My hands come up to clutch his shirt, my thighs shaking and head falling back, letting out a needy moan. My walls clamp around his fingers gushing on his hand.
“Oh sherlock!” I whimper, panting as I come down from my orgasm.
“That was beautiful sweetheart,” He smiles, kissing me tenderly. “We’re far from done. You know that, don’t you?” he teases. I giggle, nodding shyly. Without further preamble, he tears open my blouse, his eyes raking over me hungrily. He tears off his own shirt, tossing it aside, and cups my face, kissing me passionately. He gently pushes me back, laying me back on the desk, his lips trailing down my body. He stops when he gets to my breasts squeezing them softly and leaning down to capture my nipple in his mouth sucking and flicking with his tongue. I moan loudly, my back arching, pushing my breast further against his mouth.
He groans sucking soflty and then swithing to give attention to the other breasts. He shoves up my skirt, bunching it around my waist, and then fumbles with his zipper.
“I can’t wait be inside you,” He moans. I gasp as I feel the thick head of his cock brush through my folds
“My love, please, I need to feel you filling me. Make me whole.” I beg. With a feral growl, he surges forward, sheathing himself inside my tight heat. He lets out a groan, giving me only a moment to adjust before he sets a punishing pace.
“Fuck,” He moans. “You’re so tight, so perfect, darling. Is this what you needed, my sweet? To be filled and taken. Reminded who you belong to?” I nod and let out a breathy moan. He pulls my leg up around his hip and drives into me deeper. The angle allows him to hit that perfect spot deep within me. My eyes roll back, and I feel myself climbing to my high.
“My perfect girl,” sherlock praises his as he brings his thumb between us to rub my clit. My body shakes beneath him as he captures my lips in another searing kiss.” Thats it, my love. Let go,” he coos. “Let me feel all your pent up desire and love as you cum for me.” he encourages. I feel my pussy spasming on his cock and he growls “Good girl,” With those words I tumble over the edge my toes curling my head falling back gushing on his cock as my body trembles with pleasure.
“Sherlock!” I cry out as my orgasm crashes over me and he fucks me through it. I feel his hips start to falter and he takes my hand pinning my wrists to the desk as he fucks me, his breathing ragged as he lets out a string of incoheart praises.
“Yes,.. fuck.. You’re perfect, my love. Gonna fill you with my seed… such a good girl for me. Take it all, darling.” He growls in my ear, his body going stiff as he releases inside me. His hips jerk softly as he works himself through his orgasm.
We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies connected and whole. With a soft groan, Sherlock stands and slowly pulls out of me. He takes my hand, helping me sit up on the desk. He cups my face and peppers it with kisses, pulling back and searching my face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you alright, my love?” He asked, his voice soft and tender. I nod a satisfied smile on my lips.
“Yes darling, I’m perfect.” I giggle. “I am sorry for being such a brat when I’m being needy.” I blush, ducking my head to tuck myself against his chest. Sherlock chuckles.
“I know you are, my sweet. the truth is.” He says with a slight smirk in his voice. “I quite enjoy it, I was finished with my work hours ago. But I do so enjoy watching you squirm.” He winks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs are always welcome!!
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A/N: Written for Sexy September Scribbles. September 19: “you’re so fucking tight...gripping me like a vice”
A/N2: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.
Syverson wasted no time getting you to bed. He'd been dreaming of being back in your arms for months while he was serving overseas and he was hungry for you.
Despite warming you up by making you cum on his tongue and his fingers, his cock was still a little difficult to take. He made your cunt stretch with a pleasurable burn that turned you into a brainless, needy slut.
"Damn, Honey," Sy grunts as he pistons into your cunt. "You're so fucking tight...gripping me like a vice."
"The better to make me fall apart on your cock," you tease breathlessly.
"Probably shoulda warmed you up more but I've missin' you so bad." He pins your hands to the headboard with one of his hands as he brings himself down to kiss you. "Fuck, I'm so needy for ya. I don't know how much longer I can hold back."
"I bet you'd fit better if I was on my stomach," you wink.
He growls at the thought. "But then I wouldn't get to see your pretty face. Those eyes that make me melt into a puppy. Wouldn't get to see you go dumb as you cream around my cock."
You let out a whimper as your pussy clenches again. "Always so romantic," you smile at him.
“be still” - “i can’t” - “yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?”
morning cuddling with the love of your life
pairing: boyfriend!captain syverson x female reader
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, morning sex, fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, pet names (bunny), morning cuddles, established relationship taken to the next couple levels 👀
word count: 1,800ish
a/n: ahhh thank you so much for sending in this prompt—and for requesting my second favorite captain!! this one is just pure smut with a very fluffy ending, i hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡
The sunny spring morning began, as all your mornings had since you’d started dating Captain Syverson, with some sleepy cuddling. You’d only been dating a few months, and he hadn’t moved in yet, but Sy always seemed to end up in your bed—even the nights he worked late—and you enjoyed him being there. You loved falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his warm comfort too much to say anything about it.
That morning, the sun was shining through your bedroom windows and casting a yellow glow over everything. But it was chilly beyond your blankets, the spring day not having yet been warmed by the sun, and you were happy to stay in bed. You were still half-asleep when your fingers started searching for Sy’s broad, warm body, pulling yourself closer once you found him, humming happily when he wrapped his thick, beefy arms around you.
You sighed contentedly with your face buried in his chest, your body settling into his comforting embrace as you breathed in the woodsy, familiar scent of his skin. The hair dusting across his burly chest tickled your cheeks pleasantly and you shifted closer, hitching your bare thigh over his hip. Because you wore only one of Sy’s t-shirts, your uncovered core pressed to the soft cotton of Sy’s boxers, and you felt his bulge twitch against your warmth.
A little shiver raced down your spine, but you were still too sleepy to do anything about the length hardening between your thighs. Besides, Sy didn’t seem inclined to take things further yet either, as he rumbled a deep snore.
The both of you dozed for a little while, until a deep, reverberating groan in Sy’s chest roused you again. It was only then that you discovered your hips were rocking gently against your boyfriend’s cock, stirring up a heat that crashed through your body as soon as you became aware. A soft gasp left your lips, and Sy groaned louder, knowing you were awake.
“Ya gotta stop, or ‘m not gonna be able to let ya sleep anymore, bunny,” Sy rumbled, his voice far too warm with sleepy pleasure to sound the least bit warning. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his beard tickling your skin, and you smiled into his chest, enjoying the heat curling deliciously through your body.
Stretching up, you reached blindly for Sy’s mouth, your eyes still closed and, after some fumbling, managed to kiss your boyfriend good morning. His arms squeezed you tightly as you kissed lazily, knowing you had all the time in the world to spend the morning in bed together.
“Maybe I’m done sleeping, daddy,” you murmured against his mouth when you broke the kiss. You rolled your body more purposefully, grinding your naked pussy against the bulge in Sy’s boxers and delighted in his grunt of pleasure. “Maybe I wanna feel you stuff that big cock of yours deep in my needy pussy.”
Sy rumbled a chastising sound. “Christ, the mouth ya got on ya, bunny,” he muttered. Still, he slid his big hand down between your bodies, cupping your pussy possessively and thrusting two fingers inside to test your readiness. You were wet and slick for him, and he dragged a moan from your lips while he fucked you. His tone managed some menace as he growled, “Maybe I should shove my cock into that filthy mouth of yours and show you what dirty girls get for rilin’ up their daddies.”
“Nooo, please,” you begged, pouting up at him and fluttering your lashes in the way that had Sy’s cock twitching against your thigh, his precum leaking onto your soft skin. “I’m already so wet for you, daddy, would you really deny me when my tight little hole is dripping and begging for you?”
With a tortured groan, Sy rolled you onto your back, his hips settling between your thighs and pushing you open wide with his broad body. Pulling his fingers from your pussy, he slipped them into your mouth, and you eagerly sucked your own arousal from his skin.
“Good girl,” he rumbled, the hint of a smile curving his mouth.
While you were busy cleaning his fingers, Sy shoved his boxers down and lined up his cock with your entrance. He smacked your messy folds with the heavy head of his cock, watching as your eyes went heavy lidded and you moaned around his fingers. He removed them from your mouth and grinned when you let out a desperate whine.
“Daddy, please,” you begged on a gasp, writhing beneath your boyfriend’s broad form.
Thankfully, Sy wasn’t interested in any more teasing and he pushed into your needy, aching hole. Your back arched up off the bed and you let out a sharp cry, enjoying the feeling of his thick cock stretching out your tight cunt. No matter how many times he fucked you, it always felt like Sy was pressing the air from your lungs and rearranging your insides to make room to accomodate his fat cock.
“Feel so fucking good, bunny,” Sy groaned when he was buried inside you, his balls pressing against your ass. For a long moment, he stayed there, his eyes closing like he was savoring the tight warmth of your body. “Christ, I could live in your cunt—ya feel like you were made for me.”
He was so big and hard and hot inside you that you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, your knees climbing his sides so he could push even deeper into your cunt. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix and you moaned loudly, your inner walls gripping his hard length like your body wanted to suck him even deeper. You were practically folded in half beneath the beefy body of your boyfriend, but it wasn’t enough, you needed him to move, to fuck you—to empty his balls into you and fill you up with his seed.
“Be still.” The words were little more than an unintelligible growl from your Sy’s mouth.
You whimpered, your hips rocking up against him, fucking yourself on his cock ever so slightly. Even if you wanted to stop, you didn’t think it was possible—not when you needed him so badly. “I can’t.”
“Yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?” Sy’s hand gripped your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “If you don’t stop, I’m not going to be able to hold back,” he warned, his face grim with barely leashed desire. “I’m gonna flood your unprotected pussy with my come and I’m gonna knock you up—is that what you want?”
Even if you’d wanted to lie and tell him it wasn’t at all what you wanted, your body answered Sy’s question for you, your cunt squeezing his cock even harder, like you were wordlessly begging him to put a baby in your belly. But you knew your boyfriend would never do anything if you didn’t say the words, so you forced your mind to focus through the pleasure and delirious need to get the words out.
“I want it, daddy,” you admitted on a whimper, crying out when Sy pulled back, only to surge forward and make your whole body shake with the force of his thrust. With your confession out in the open between you, it seemed to loosen your tongue and a flood of words fell from your lips. “I want you to knock me up, I want you to put a baby in me—your baby, Sy—I want you to make me a mommy, please, daddy!”
“Jesus christ, bunny,” Sy ground out as he pounded into you, his hips slapping against your thighs while he thrust deep into your cunt. “Ya want daddy to breed you—ya wanna be daddy’s good little breeding bunny, huh?”
“Yes, yes yes,” you cried, gripping Sy’s broad shoulders, your cunt squeezing his cock. You were so close. “Breed me, daddy—Sy, please—please!”
“Fuck,” he grunted, pausing to reposition his hips. Then he was grinding against your clit with every brutal thrust into your cunt and it wasn’t long before you screamed your release. Your whole body clenched tight, making Sy groan like he was in pain as your pussy gripped his cock so hard, his release quickly followed yours.
Sy captured your lips in a messy kiss, his beard burning your cheeks and chin as hips stilled. You felt his cock twitch deep in your fluttering cunt, and the rush of his come overflowing your pussy, dripping down your ass. You shivered and moaned into Sy’s mouth, your hands clinging to his shoulders and neck while your bodies came together in the most primal way possible.
When you were finally sated and the last of his come had been wrung from his cock, Sy rolled over onto his back, taking you with him. Your bodies were still connected, the evidence of your releases making a mess of the both of you. You sighed contentedly and snuggled into Sy’s chest, a happy smile on your face.
“I s’pose I should officially move in, huh?” Sy asked, a bit of playfulness seeping into his deep, satisfied drawl.
“You better,” you muttered, putting a little poutiness into the words, which made Sy chuckle. Pushing yourself up, you gave Sy a kiss before pulling away and shooting him a stern look. “Then you might wanna start thinking about putting a ring on my finger,” you said pointedly, arching one of your brows.
Sy grinned so wide, it made his beard twitch. Without looking away from you, he opened the bedside table drawer and pulled something out. You didn’t see what it was until you felt him slip something onto your left ring finger. With a gasp, you finally looked away to see the pretty engagement ring he’d just put on you.
“Way ahead o’ ya, bunny,” he murmured, tipping your chin to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “Assuming it’s a yes, of course.”
You snorted. “Of course, it’s a yes,” you said, a giggle of joy in your tone. Then you kissed him again—and again and again and again.
Eventually, you settled back down on Sy’s chest, unable to keep your eyes off the ring, turning your hand this way and that so you could admire the way it sparkled so prettily in the bright morning sunshine. Already, you were picturing a spring wedding—Sy would look so handsome in a suit beneath an arch of spring flowers…
Your head spun a little with how much your life had changed on that spring morning, but you couldn’t be happier. You were going to become Mrs. Syverson and start a family with your captain—but the best part was that you’d get to start every morning cuddling with the love of your life.
I know this is Walter, but he's stepping in for this chapter for us, so it fits.
Synopsis: Allie Hilton is on the run. For the first time in her privileged life, she can only rely on her own wits to escape a life she was destined for, but also one that she never wanted. What happens when Allie flees as far as she can before running into a small town that just happened to be governed by a large male motorcycle fleet? Well Allie, meet the War Horse Rebellion. Put on your riding boots, it's going to be a rough ride.
Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Allison “Allie” Hilton
Warnings: OFC has abusive past, narcissistic parents, references to abuse, teasing, flirting, consensual groping, curse words, some sexual references, missing persons, turmoil, police arrest, mention of guns, crying, krazykimmy, Walter Marshall, August Walker, big confrontation
MINORS DNI! Must be 18+
I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.
This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.
A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!
Chapter 9:
I look at Walter and he can sense my unease. “I don’t know all of the details but I trust Austin fully and he said you needed protection so that’s why I’m here. Nobody will touch you without your consent, do you understand?” I nod with discomfort aching through my body.
“You don’t have to do this but if you want to, I won’t leave your side.” He reassures.
“Just, stay with me please.” I whisper as I grab his hand and squeeze.
We are led to a large conference room and I see my parents through the glass. Mother is wearing a pale blue wrap dress paired with nude Louboutin’s and her hair in a tidy chignon. Always the picture-perfect image of poise. My father stands with his arms crossed wearing one of his many navy Tom Ford suits as the harsh fluorescent lights reflect off of his shiny shoes.
“My darling! Thank God you’re alright!” My mother stands and quickly wraps her arms around me. I hear Walter grunt as he’s about to physically remove her but I slightly shake my head to let him know I’ll allow it.
“We’ve been so worried about you!” She says with a voice almost too shrill to be believable.
My father doesn’t hug me, just appraises my appearance as he glances over me from head to toe. A look of relief covers his features, yet I don’t assume naively like I once would that it’s for my well-being.
My mother fluffs my hair in false concern and straightens my necklace while my father appraises the large imposing man next to me. Noticing the badge hanging around his neck, he extends a hand to Walter.
“Thank you for rescuing my daughter, officer. I can’t imagine the circumstances but I’d like to write a check to your department, a donation, for your efforts.” He touts. Walter arches an eyebrow at the oddly timed display of machismo but doesn’t respond.
Gently grabbing my mother’s wrists, I push them away from me as they flutter aimlessly over my form. Disdain and confusion cross her face as I step back from her.
“Why are you both here?” I ask meekly.
“What do you mean? You’ve been missing for over a month!” My mother says with truism.
“I haven’t been missing. I chose to leave, and I chose to come here.” I reply and my father audibly scoffs.
“Good God. Did you let that motorcycle riff raff brainwash you? Who would choose to leave your lifestyle to come and live here in the squalor with a bunch of criminals?” My father rebukes.
“Those ‘criminals’ are better people than you ever could be. They care for me and genuinely want to know me. All of my life, you both treated me with complete disregard until there was something that I could do to benefit you.” I felt Walter’s gentle hand of encouragement rest on my back to remind me of his presence and I realized that I was shaking.
“Did you ever truly love me? Or were you too busy wrapped up in yourselves to care?” My voice softens in childlike hope.
“Young lady, you stop that this instant!” My father slams a fist down on the table and both my mother and I jump. I notice that neither parent answers the question, but I don’t let myself dwell it.
“No.” I say firmly.
“This transactional relationship between us ends now. You both are narcissists who were forcing me to marry a man that not only did I not love, but abused me. Spencer beat me so badly after you left that night that I feared for my life and I couldn’t even turn to my parents for help. I lost consciousness for who knows how long! Do you realize how fucked up that is? My parents who were supposed to love me and care for my well-being gaslit me and coerced me into staying with a terrible human being for their financial and social gain.”
“He shouldn’t have hurt you and I plan to talk with Paul about that. I know Spencer has a temper but I never imagined it would lead to this. I could add a clause into the contract if that would give you a sense of security? We can make him do therapy or anger management classes. An indemnification clause could be added to the business contract where we could require financial compensation, from their company of course, if Spencer breaks our agreement. Keep in mind that it goes both ways, however. There are many methods to come to a resolution here and it seems as though Paul will be agreeable to find a solution that benefits all parties.” My father, always concerned about his paperwork, suggests.
I scoff. “You don’t get it. You’ll never get it. So, you won’t get me either.” I take a deep breath and look them straight in the eyes.
“I am happy here in Texas and will not be returning to Charlotte. I will not be marrying Spencer or attending any of your events in the future. Please, take me out of your will. Donate my inheritance to a charity one day, so that you can actually do something selfless for once in your lives. I will always have some degree of love for you as my parents, but I want to live my life without you.”
My parents, who can’t fathom me walking away from money, look at me with shock.
“I know this presents a scandal for you, but I’m done pretending to be who you want to be. I have loved you and obeyed you the best that I could, regardless of the personal sacrifice it was to me. I’m sorry, and I wish you both the best.” I say and turn to leave with Walter hot on my heels. I hear my mother’s dramatic sobs as my father yells something that I can’t full decipher but I don’t turn back. Walter leads me back to my original room and stares at me like I’m a caged animal who is about to erupt. I pace for a moment and then take a deep breath.
“Fuck, that felt good.” I say as my body still trembles with adrenaline and fear. Invisible tear tracks stain my flushed cheeks but I don’t even bother to scrub them away.
“That was incredible.” He says with a tight-lipped smile. We hear muffled yelling in the distance seemingly coming from elsewhere in the building and I assume it’s my father having a rare but not unpredictable temper tantrum at his lack of control. Walter smirks and shakes his head slightly with the exasperation of knowing that August has indeed arrived and is wreaking havoc somewhere in this building. He wonders idly if he’ll have to post two separate bail payments tonight. Thank goodness Faye is with her mother, Angie, this weekend.
Detective Alverson returns silently looking somewhat apologetic as he had also witnessed my interaction with my parents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hilton have left the premises. I believe you’ve answered all of the questions that I had for you, but I’m going to give you my card with my number if you have any questions or additional information that you think is pertinent for me.”
I nod, and reach for the card. “When will Austin Syverson be released? Is he going to be charged with anything?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any information about his timeline or charges. I do know that he is still here being questioned. The lead investigator for his case will review your statement as well as the answers that you have given and go from there.” I sigh and fidget with the business card in my hand.
“I would like to apologize. I saw a different side of your parents just now and I know my questioning tactics can be harsh. It was not my intention to cause you any additional distress.” I bite my cheek to keep from letting my thoughts run free at the hellacious experience and just offer a quiet and polite, “thank you.”
“There’s one more thing.” He hesitates.
“Both Mr. Elliott Senior and Junior are here and are requesting to speak to you. More so, demanding, to speak to you before you leave. I wonder if you might be open to putting closure on this matter while in the safety and monitoring of officers.”
He’s here, somewhere in this building. I had comfort only a moment ago that Sy was also somewhere in this building and now my tummy twists with dread.
“No. Absolutely not. She doesn’t need to speak to them. They’ve done enough.” Walter growls and Alverson somewhat shrinks back with a submissive nod of his head.
“I’ll do it.” I say and Walter looks at me disappointedly.
“No, Allie. Austin was extremely clear on the phone. Send August to help him with his legal matters, and for me to come to you and keep that guy as far away from you as possible.”
“They won’t stop. I thought I was free and I was wrong. They’ll just keep spreading lies and potentially show up unannounced if I don’t. He’s right; at least confronting them here where I’m not alone is the safest idea. Think about what will happen if Spencer shows up somewhere and Austin is there.” I look at him meaningfully. Walter’s head dips down and he scrapes his hand through his beard.
“He’d kill him.” I see him wrestling with the loyalty factor in this decision before he huffs and nods in agreement at my argument.
“Maybe he’ll hesitate before killing me for allowing this since I’m family.” He grunts and I smile softly.
“I’ll protect you from Austin if you protect me now.” I softly smile with unconvincing humor.
I glance at Alverson who looks somewhat relieved. I know how Spencer’s dad can be and he’s a hard man to say no to, and I suddenly pity Alverson slightly.
“I’ll be back in a moment. I will make sure that there are additional officers present.”
“I want a minimum of five officers in the room with video and audio monitoring. If either of them makes an attempt to touch her, I will not wait for verbal de-escalation to act. Understood?” Walter barks and Alverson responds with a quiet “Understood.”
About ten minutes later, Alverson comes to retrieve us. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and hold my head up high with false confidence as I follow Walter to the same conference room that I had my previous confrontation in less than half an hour ago.
“He doesn’t touch you.” Walter grunts and I nod, shakily.
“Both men have been warned not to touch you or approach you.” Alverson whispers. Wow, so maybe he does have a small backbone when faced with powerful men. That, or he’s even more afraid of what Walter will do.
Entering the room, Spencer’s face lights up. Paul has his typical used car salesman smile on that he wears when networking a room or filming a television commercial. In the past I would also plaster on a fake a smile simply to present myself as graceful and to put others at ease. Not today. Today, I scowl at both men in front of me.
“Allison, thank goodness you’re okay! We have all been so worried about you. Spencer in particular has just been overwhelmed with grief at your disappearance.” Paul acts and I just stare at him.
“Sweetheart, are you hurt? Have you been able to eat? Where have you been? I have so many questions that I don’t even know what to ask first.” He charms and I continue to blink at him.
“She must be in shock, Spencer. Rightly so! I was told that you were being kept by a criminal gang? Don’t you worry, dear. I’ll make sure to take care of everything. The most important thing is that you focus on getting home and getting to a therapist. I can’t begin to understand how traumatized you must be!” Paul speaks with a disingenuous tone.
“I am traumatized.” I respond darkly.
“Oh dear, don’t you worry. We’ll have you back to yourself in no time. It’s all over.”
“I am traumatized from your abusive son who beat me to a pulp and left me covered in glass and blood on the floor. I am traumatized by my narcissistic parents who have spent my whole life bread crumbing me into submission to their advantage. I am traumatized by the callous way that you negotiated my life as a bargaining chip to force your grown son to start acting like a decent human being. I am traumatized by the way you used me to secure business dealings with my father, in order to gain more money and power at my expense.” I get louder and sterner with each sentence.
“Nothing about the past month has traumatized me. In fact, this past month has healed me and provided a feeling of freedom that has never existed for me before.”
Spencer squints at me with daggers in his eyes as I speak. Paul quickly darts his eyes at the officers in the room as I list the ways that I have been emotionally and physically harmed.
“Allison, I’m so sorry that you feel this way. Let me assure you, I had no idea! Your parents assured me that you loved my son and were ready to begin a life with him. Can you blame me for wanting my son to marry such a beautiful woman and have children of his own?” His charisma falling flat.
“I am ready for grandchildren to love and carry on our family name and simply tried to secure the lifestyle that I believe my family deserves. To be provided for and never need to work or worry about money again. I viewed it as my gift to you and Spencer.” He bullshits.
“Well, I never wanted that lifestyle and I certainly don’t now. Spencer is nothing more than an overgrown child with access to thousands of dollars at his fingertips. He beat me, Paul. Does that sound like the ‘family man’ you’re hoping to market to the public?”
“Allison, I understand you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately and clearly in distress as you’ve potentially been brainwashed, but I cannot allow these allegations to continue and for you to defame my son in such a way by alleging that he physically abused you.” He states with a calmness that sends chills all over my body.
“I’m not alleging anything! Tell them Spencer! Tell them how you slapped me outside the event room that night and split my lip. Tell them how you almost beat me to death at my home when I refused your marriage proposal!” I scream and Walter gently places his hands around my waist to keep me from flipping the large table in front of me with rage.
Spencer sneers, “I would never hurt you, Sweetheart. I don’t know what you’re talking about but I love you and we’ll get you the mental help that you need. I promise, the best doctors that money can buy.” He sits straighter.
“LIAR!!!!!!!” I scream as I charge toward him but Walter picks me up at the waist and the young deputy from my interrogation grabs my arm and gently pulls me from the room. My vision clouds once again with tears and a tinge of red as the rage sears through my body once more. I don’t even notice that Walter is no longer behind me as the young man escorts me back to the room that I’ve spent so many hours in tonight and I slam the metal chair closest to me into the wall before falling to my knees in despair. Walter enters a minute or two later and surprisingly, wraps his body around me on the cold unforgiving floor.
“Austin will be released soon. Until then, I know that I’m not him, but I’m so proud of you.” He whispers as his arms wrap around my shoulders. I turn and sob into his chest, using him as a Syverson decoy until Austin and I can be reunited. The sleeves of his sweater are bunched up at his elbows, showcasing his thick forearms with a smattering of hair similar to Syverson’s. I try to imagine the tattoos that Sy has on his arms and am frustrated that I am blanking on the details of each one. Walter gently rocks me back and forth on the floor of the interrogation room. When my sobs grow quiet and my hiccupping breaths calm, I hear him speak.
“C’mon. I’m sure you want to get out of here now. We can leave.” I nod against his chest and take comfort in that his body feels like Sy’s against mine, even if the cologne is different.
He helps me from the floor and together we walk to the elevators, my exhaustion covering me as if I’m running on metaphorical fumes. After exiting the lift, we drift toward the main lobby where I see the majority of the Rebels camped out in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Annie rushes up and hugs me tightly as she reaches to wipe the fresh tears that fall from my eyes.
“Oh, Allie girl. Are you alright, love?” I see Bananas over Annie’s shoulder who looks unusually morose and I whisper, “Eliza.” Annie glances back and nods me toward him. I immediately walk up and hug him as Annie thanks Walter for coming so quickly.
“I heard, I heard ‘Liza got arrested and I’m so sorry, Ben. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” I stutter out.
“Allie, shhh. Don’t you worry about it. She’s about to get out here shortly. We figured you, Sy, and Eliza would all need rides so everyone came to wait. We didn’t know what else to do. You can’t think this is the first time she’s ever been arrested? That girl is a loaded pistol. That’s actually how I met her. She trying to fight a man twice her size for slapping her ass outside a bar. I’m telling you, she was absolutely eating his lunch and I have never been more turned on in my life.” He smirks at me and I release a half laugh, half sigh in my exhaustion.
“She’s one of a kind. Bout time you wife her up.” I smirk and he smiles tiredly.
“It’s in the works.” Bananas whispers.
“You okay?” He takes in my swollen, splotchy face and I feel my chin tremble but force myself to take a breath.
“This is all my fault.” I whisper.
“No, it’s not! It’s Kimmy’s fault. We know that.”
“I just, I had no idea they were searching for me and I promise I never accepted his proposal. He…he was abusive. My parents wouldn’t help me and I just, ran.” I explain breathlessly. It’s amazing how I couldn’t tell this group any of this before, but now that everything is out in the open my words come out like vomit.
“He has money. They all have money and power and I didn’t know how to get out of it. They were trying to make me, and I just, I just wanted to be free. I didn’t want to be with him. I ran away. Sy warned me that my problems would follow me to Gruene and he was right. I should have told you all but I was embarrassed and I’m just so sorry.” I ramble as Annie wraps an arm around my waist and Mike puts another arm around my shoulders.
“You ain’t got nothing to apologize for.” X speaks, his deep voice startling me since I haven’t once heard his voice in the five weeks that I’ve been here. My eyes widen and I give him a grateful smile.
“I made a statement, to one of the officers here, that you arrived to town covered in injuries. I couldn’t say how it happened for sure of course, but they told me that it matched Syverson’s story.” Annie speaks and I feel relief wash over me.
“They said they’d call us when Sy was ready to be released.” Mike tells me.
“Do you think, he’ll hate me?” I tremble.
“God no! That boy has been head over heels in love with you since you drove into this town. He’s probably just worried sick about you.” Annie tuts. My body begins to sag with exhaustion as Mike and Annie support my weight.
“You’re dead on your feet, Allie. The adrenaline is wearing off. Let me take you to Sy’s. I’ll let August know where we are so they can come to you when they finish up here.” Walter offers and I nod. Annie, Ringo, Julie, and Bananas each hug me before Walter directs me to the doors.
“Look down and don’t speak. Stay under my arm.” He directs and I see maybe news crews and cameramen out in the parking lot. The late hour causing the others to retreat is likely my saving grace at this moment. I use my long hair to my advantage and trust Walter to navigate me safely to my destination as multiple camera flashes blur my already weak eyes. One woman runs beside our brisk pace asking questions, and continues to probe even though she receives no response. Walter helps me up into his truck by my shoulders before he hops into the driver’s side and takes off. Within minutes of the engine cranking, I’m steadfastly asleep with my head pressed against Walter’s thick shoulder. I don’t even stir when the engine cuts off and Walter carefully carries me inside and places me in a bed. Syverson's bed.
Chapter 11
A/N: Next chapter, Allie and Sy are finally reunited from this whole ordeal and I can't wait for them to get back together!
