#Henry cavill requests

[cinebration]

Bewitched (Sherlock Holmes x Reader) [Request]

hii, if you taking requests, you could do sherlock holmes (of enola holmes) x reader fic with a pride and prejudice quote?? thank you so much!! ♡ Quote: “You have bewitched me…body and soul.”—Requested by @folklorecavill​

I apologize for this feeling a little OOC, but I tried!

Warnings: none

Gif Source: henricavyll

Sherlock found himself on your doorstep once again, calling on you.

It wasn’t until you descended the stairs and entered the receiving room that he suddenly froze, the feelings that had driven him to your door immobilizing him. He wanted nothing more than to flee and at the same time stay to enjoy your presence. The feelings were both unusual and regular—unusual because as a man who took great pride in divorcing emotion from reason, it was irregular for him to be so arrested by feeling; regular because it only ever seemed to happen around you.

The furrow between your brows reappeared. “Mr. Holmes. How may I help you?”

Sherlock swallowed thickly, words lodged in his throat. A distant part of himself regarded his reaction with distrust bordering on horror. He was Sherlock Holmes. Speechlessness was not in his being.

The furrow between your brows deepened. The sight of it struck of a chord of distress within his chest, ratcheting up the mounting alarm he felt.

It was too much.

Words swam up his throat suddenly, and he blurted, “You have bewitched me!”

You took a step back, disconcerted by the unschooled outburst. Sherlock withdrew into himself, struggling to compose himself as he heard his own words echoing in his ears. He did not believe in superstitions, they being instruments for the uneducated masses to process that which they did not care to understand, but he had dared to say bewitched as though it were true.

It had to be, did it not? How else to explain his uncharacteristic behavior? The whirlwind of feelings buzzing beneath his skin and making him physically ill?

Moderating his voice as best he could, he repeated, the words springing to his lips and spilling over through a thick throat, “You have bewitched me…body and soul.”

Surprise transitioned by increments into disbelief, followed by cautious optimism. You glanced away demurely, pausing to gather a response.

Sherlock’s heart thudded in his ears. He tried to bat the feeling away, hating how beholden he was to your response, whatever it was, his stomach twisting.

Deliver me from this torment, he thought, pleading. What fresh hell was he being subjected to?

“You mean to say you think only of me?” you asked carefully, not meeting his gaze yet.

“Like a lesion on the brain,” he answered. The words did not strike him as anything but true.

You laughed. “A lesion on the brain, yes.”

He frowned, hesitating. He could hear Mycroft chastising him—not merely for fumbling social interactions but for even succumbing to a woman’s charms in the first place—and the ghostly sound of his brother’s voice in his skull nearly made him storm from the room, embarrassment and shame working to displace the other feelings he had. Shaken by the emotions, he struggled to remain steadfast. Pursuing killers down harrowing avenues had never instilled such trepidation within him.

“And if I told you the same?”

Sherlock glanced at you sharply, his brow furrowing. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“I think of you too often to be…salubrious,” you said, a note of laughter chased by distress in your voice. “As you said, a lesion on the brain.”

Hope fluttered in his chest, making him sick even as he felt himself chasing the feeling.

“In that regard, I suppose you also have bewitched me…body and soul.”

Silence stretched in the quiet room, so complete that Sherlock was sure you could hear the thundering of his heart.

“I…I’m afraid I do not know how to proceed,” he managed to say. He had never found himself in such a predicament.

You smiled lopsidedly, then drew near him. Your hand reached out to brush his, first the back of your knuckles against his, then your fingers twining with his as he responded in kind.

“I’m not sure how,” you murmured, “but we can learn together, can’t we?”

#Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock Holmes imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #Henry!Sherlock #Cavill!Holmes #Enola Holmes #requests

[sweetandgentlecreature]

May I request some jealous Henry with lots of fluff, please? 🥹❤️

You got it, babe! I may have taken a bit of a liberty with this one. I got a thought in my head and had to get it out, so I'm sorry if it wasn't quite what you'd imagined, lol. Thanks for stopping by!

Warnings: a little bit of angsty homesickness, some raunchy banter, and plenty of fluff in the form of a cow/bear/pig

"So...What are you wearing?"

"Henry!"

His laughter fills the room. Another night apart means another night alone in bed. Distance is always hard on a relationship, and though you've been through your share of time apart, it doesn't make it any easier this time around. At least it's just for a couple of weeks, while he's off running the press gauntlet for the newest season of The Witcher. It's bittersweet this time around. The last several months have been hard, watching him mourn the loss of a project he loved so much, and it sucks that you couldn't be there for him now. The plan was for him to go off and do everything abroad, then you'd meet back up and join him at the premiere in London. In the meantime though, all this waiting was driving you nuts.

The house is dark, except for the glow of the bedside lamp that illuminates the room that you're used to sharing with your man and his bear. Kal is used to tagging along for most adventures, and it's clear that he's a bit disappointed about having to stay behind as well. His ears perk up at the sound of his dad's voice, but doesn't bother to investigate further. He's far too comfy to move.

"Come on, love. Just a peek?"

Henry is a menace, and he knows what that does to you. With those beautiful eyes and that cheeky little grin, you could never tell him no. Throwing the blankets aside, you reach out to adjust the screen of your laptop to give him the perfect view of your sexiest fleece pajama bottoms.

"Hey!" he protests. "That's my shirt!"

"Yeah, and?

Even now, propped up in the bed of a hotel room a couple thousand miles away, Henry couldn't hide from you. The banter was just a facade, a distraction to keep you from seeing just how much he missed you. He thought he'd built a wall of stone to keep you from knowing, but in reality, it was just a pane of glass. One look and it shattered around him.

Henry sighs. He doesn't have to speak for you to know what he's feeling, because you feel it too. It's an odd sensation, feeling so homesick when you're still at home. You look down at the t-shirt you're wearing. The gray one he wore in the Durrell Challenge a few years back. Even though its been sitting in the back of the closet for a while, it still smells like him. That's why you picked it.

"What time is it there?" you ask, but it's clear by the look in his eyes just how tired he is. Must be getting pretty late, even for an insomniac gamer like him.

"Late. But I don't have anything planned for the morning, so don't worry."

You sit in silence for a moment, both of you laying on your sides facing each other just as you would if he were here with you now. When you open your mouth to speak, to finally admit just how much you miss him, you're cut short by a loud, rumbling snort from the foot of the bed. The culprit lets out a yawn ("Good yawn!") and a stretch ("Big stretch, bubba"), then works his way up the bed to nose at the keyboard a bit.

"Uh oh. We've woken the bear," you tease, rubbing the beast behind his ears as he circles the space he's made between you and the computer to rest in. Kal sniffs and sighs to voice his disappointment, then settles down again to snooze for a little while longer.

"Keeping Mumma company, I see," Henry smirks. "I might even let it slide that you've let him on the bed."

You shrug, grinning ear to ear as you ruffle Kal's mane. "When the wolf's away..."

That struck a nerve. Maybe it's the jetlag finally catching up to him, or maybe its the distance. You can see it in the shift in his eyes, the tense of his jaw. It makes you snort with laughter.

"Oh, come on, Cavill. Look at that face. You can't possibly be jealous of him. You'll get plenty of snuggles the moment you're home." Then you wink. "Snuggles, and then some."

The wrinkles on his brow disappear, and he realizes just how silly it is to be jealous of the dog. Better to be jealous of him than someone else, at least. Shaking his head, he laughs. What an idiot. Either way, it's good enough for now. Henry shifts to prop himself up on an elbow to look down at the screen. He's sure you'll make good on your promise. In the meantime...

"Now," he says with a grin. Good ole Henry, always back to business as per usual. "Care to flash me a tit?"

#requests #henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavil x reader

[delicate-moon-princess]

Hello. Hope you are well. I don’t know if your requests are open, but I would love more Superman x reader stories. Maybe the reader is married to Clark. Clark is always very gentle, caring and soft. Always afraid of hurting the reader by accident. But maybe wants it a little rough? At least sometimes. Totally not against any dd/lg elements.

Bad Days and Bratty Ways

Trying to seduce your husband after a bad day seems to be futile. Good thing a little bit of misbehaving can tip him over the edge. -Daddy!Clark Kent x Reader

Warning: 18+ dd/lg, daddy kink, rough p in v, fingering, choking, light spanking, dumbification, squirting, creampie- Let me know if I forgot anything!

4.2k words

Any typos are my own!

A/N: This had been in my inbox for awhile, I’m sorry 😣 I hope you enjoy it!

******

Clark dealt his anger differently than most. Some people had hobbies that helped them de-stress. Or perhaps they went for a walk to clear their heads. The Kryptonians' fury morphed into something more carnal. His method to fighting any hostile thoughts was chasing them away with a good, hard fuck. 

It was a shock to learn this at first. Clark seemed like such a proper gentleman. And he was. Most of the time. Other times he ditched all gentlemanly standards, used your body for his own selfish needs. And you loved being there to help chase away his ire.

You cherished the times he was rougher with you. Your husband rarely got angry, so those moments were far and few between. His fits always left you aching in the most pleasant way. Despite being married for only a short time, you quickly learned to pick up on the signs that he was riled up.

That’s why you kept a close eye on him during dinner.

Something was bothering him. His mannerisms made it clear. The smiles he gave you were strained, as you observed how tired his eyes looked. His food was half heartedly pushed around with his fork, as if he had no appetite for the meal. He wasn’t very talkative, so you carried most of the conversation. You would get an occasional nod or quiet response.

When you asked him about his day at work, he changed the subject to something else. Typical. He always tried to ignore his emotions. He didn’t want to worry you, but more importantly, he didn’t want to hurt you if he became enraged with lust.

Maybe he just needed a little push? 

When the food was gone, he helped you clean up. No words were spoken as he loaded the dishwasher. His brows were pinched together, his jaw clenching as he pursed his lips. You saw his nostrils flare slightly.

“Daddy?” You stood behind him, your arms behind your back.

You held back a smile when you saw him freeze. There was the magic word. Now to watch him fold.

He turned halfway to look at you, brows raised. His expression softened when he took in the sight of you in front of him. You rocked on your heels as you patiently waited to be answered by him.

“Yes, sunshine?” He hummed, the sight of his precious girl gazing at him so adoringly made him want to melt.

“Did you have a bad day?” You asked, leaving him no choice but to confide in his concerned wife.

“You could say that…” He sighed, shaking his head when you frowned. “It was a long day, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about, though.”

Why did he always build these walls around himself? You stifled a groan when he turned back to the dishes. Just a little encouragement. If you approached this carefully, he would open up.

You made your way to him. You knew he could hear as you neared, but he did not turn to look at you. He only stopped loading dishes when your hand touched his bicep. The plate he was holding made a soft clinking sound against the counter as he set it down.

He looked at you while covering your smaller hand with his. You watched as he brought your fingers to his lips and tenderly kissed your knuckles. You lifted your other hand to his hair,  gliding your nails along his scalp. Your spouse shuddered.

“I could help you relax.” You hinted, trying to get him to submit to his urges. “I know how to make it better.”

He knew too. Clark knew what he needed to extinguish the smoldering fury he felt deep in his gut. He couldn’t push you that far. Not again. 

That’s what he always told himself.

Every time he used you in one of his primal trances, you wore bruises the next day. Along with a raw feeling between your legs. While the fact that he was the one to make you limp gave him a demented sense of pride, guilt always overcame him. How could he ever hurt you like that?

He was apologetic afterwards, but you made an effort to comfort him by stressing how much you liked it when it hurt. The tinge of pain you felt after taking on the Man of Steel in bed served as a persistent reminder of who owned you.

Still, he remained hesitant to let go of all ambitions and ravish you like you both desired.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea, sunshine.” He shook his head, gulping at the thought of hurting you too much. It only took one time for him to forget his strength. 

One time and he could do irreversible damage to the most important person in his life.

He took your other hand away from his hair, kissing your opposite set of knuckles. Then he brought your arms back down to your sides, pressing his lips to yours. He pulled back before speaking.

“I’ll run us a bath after I finish this. Go wait for Daddy in the bedroom, okay?” He stroked your cheek, beckoning you towards the bedroom with a nod of his head.

Your pout deepening did nothing to sway him as he turned away. Letting out a huff, you crossed your arms. Obviously, more drastic measures needed  to be taken. More bratty measures.

You stomped back to your previous position a few feet away from him. Instead of continuing to the bedroom like he asked you too, you spun back around.

“So, what asshole pissed you off at work today?” You raised a brow, not surprised when his head snapped up.

“Excuse me?” He challenged, certain that his ears misheard. 

His little girl did not just utter curse words. Not his sweet, good little girl. She knows better. Clark could feel the anger that was simmering during dinner begin to boil over.

“You heard me.” You sassed.  “What prick got under your skin? Did you tell them to fuck off?”

You considered backing out of your bratty regime when the superhero growled warningly. Then you saw his lip start to curl, and you knew you were close to striking oil.

“You need to watch your mouth, little girl.” He asserted, abandoning the dishes to slowly make his way towards you.

That was your last warning. You paid no mind to it.

“Why don’t you watch it for me, Daddy?” You smirked, cocking your head back to look up at him as he got closer. Not an ounce of fear was in your voice, your teeth biting your lower lip excitedly. 

His eyes narrowed. Then before you knew what was really happening, you were spun around by a strong hand on your bicep. Gasping, you tried to gather your wits. A grin broke out onto your face, proud to have finally pushed him over the edge. You shuddered, attempting to anticipate his next move.

“I wouldn’t be so proud of myself if I were you, little girl. You won’t like what Daddy has planned for you.” He kept a stern hold on you, his front pressed firmly against your back.

“Are you gonna spank me?” You went to turn your head to look at him, still smirking. His hand was quick to grab your jaw, keeping you looking ahead towards the island in the kitchen.

“No, you’d like that too much, wouldn’t you?” He scoffed, walking you forward until you were trapped between him and the counter.

That was true. You bite your lip to quell your smile, eyes rolling back when his hand slipped down to your throat. You unknowingly let out a whine, wordlessly pleading for him to squeeze. 

Clark growled, his bulge nudging the crease of your ass. Your walls clenched, as if your pussy was instinctively trying to swallow his length. Despite the confines between your bodies. His other hand held your hip, keeping you from squirming. 

“You know how much I don’t like it when you use those words. Do you think you’re a big girl now, hm? You think you can spurt out such vulgarity and get away with it? No, I don’t think so.” He hissed close to your ear, the hand on your throat finally clenching. With your breath cut off, he effectively squeezed the last vestige of deviance out of you.

You flooded your panties, the fabric darkened with the amount of your juices. Stars flashed behind your closed eyelids before he let you go, and you greedily inhaled air. You hiccuped as your knees wobbled.

“D-Daddy, please.” You whimpered, your eyes closed as you begged for his pity.

“What’s the matter? Can’t say bad words with Daddy’s hand around your throat, can you?” He gruffed, your throat vibrating against his palm as you mewled.

“I see right through that bratty facade.” He growled. “You’ve been squirming since I got home. You like to see me in a bad mood, don’t you?”

You inhaled sharply, bashful now that he called your bluff. And maybe a bit guilty. You pouted, closing your eyes. It was wrong to push his buttons when you knew he already had a bad day.

“Yes, I know your little games. And all through dinner, I could smell that dripping cunt. I know what you really want. You just need to be fucked, don’t you? It’s all you can think about. My precious little girl has become a real cock-crazed slut.” He sighed while shaking his head scoldingly.

“D-Dadd-ah!” You were about to beg for forgiveness before he bent you over the counter, cutting off your plea with a soft yelp.

The cold marble shocked your blazing flesh. You moaned, still trying to catch your breath when you feel his fingers hook under the hem of your bottoms. He shucked them down your legs

His eyes burned into you as you quivered before him. A draft blew across the wet fabric of your panties, making your toes curl. His heavy hand trailed up the back of your bare thigh which gave you goosebumps.

“Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself, dirty girl. Does acting like a brat really get you this excited? Do you like seeing me this angry?” He chided as you whined.

It was hard for you to speak, all you could focus on was his teasing fingers tracing the seam of your underwear. You didn’t answer, not expecting him to sigh and rip your flimsy panties off like they were made of tissue paper. The brutal smack on your bare bum also came as a surprise. Your startled shriek rang through the otherwise quiet kitchen.

“Answer me, sunshine. You don’t want to test Daddy’s patience right now.” He huffed, squeezing your glowing ass cheek.

“Yes, I-I like it…” You muttered quietly, ashamed to say it out loud. He sneered in displeasure, and you grunted when he swatted you again.

“Louder, little girl. You were so brave a second ago, what happened?” He raised a brow.

You pouted, your bum stinging. He said he wouldn’t spank you. It’s only fun when you’re expecting it. The wetness growing between your folds said otherwise, however.

“I like acting like a brat, Daddy.” You whined clearly, shifting back and forth on your legs to relieve some of the pressure in your belly. “It gets me excited.” 

“And why’s that, huh?” He grunted, needing to hear you say it.

“Because…” You whispered hesitantly, glancing away from him. “Because I-I wanted to make you mad. When you get mad, you’re rough with my… princess parts. And I love it.” Your voice became close to silent, this time he didn’t correct you. 

Saying it out loud was embarrassing. This wasn’t the first time you had disobeyed to get the attention you wanted. And this surely wasn’t the first time he noticed. How humiliating. A small part of you was still relieved to finally admit it.

Clark narrowed his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t condone such behavior. Like all the times before this. But all he could think about was pounding your tight little princess hole so hard you screamed.

“Naughty girl. Instead of coming and asking Daddy nicely to fuck your desperate pussy, you decide to act out. Push me to the edge, until I have to punish you.” He chastised, the aching in his loins made his restraint weaken.

“Sorry, Daddy...” You huffed, peeking back at him with a pout. 

He seemed to be debating something in his head. You swallowed nervously, your tongue coming out to lick your dry lips. He watched your mouth intensely. A groan rumbled in his throat as he blinked slowly. Then his gaze snapped back up to yours, his expression hardening once more.

“I shouldn’t be indulging in such naughty behavior, but you’re lucky I’m pent up from my day at work.” He grunted, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t have a single thought in that pretty little head. The only thing you’ll be able to think about is how I’m pounding that tight princess pussy.”

A quick slap to your clit shook you, crying out in surprise. You melted into a pitiful puddle of desire, your skin tingling as he rubbed your thighs and hips. His touch disappeared after giving your ass a hefty squeeze.

With your head still spinning, you looked back to see him working on unbuckling his belt. The metal clinked together. A sound that made you whimper. You unconsciously pushed your hips up, presenting to him. He wanted to chuckle at how needy his little girl was. 

When you reached for him, he backed away so your hand fell. You gave him a big pout, even trying puppy dog eyes. Why was he teasing so much?

“Quit your pouting. You don’t get to decide the pace, little miss. That’s Daddy’s job. Now be a good girl and keep your hands to yourself.” He smirked. 

He resumed pushing down his trousers. You moaned when his manhood fell out, already half hard and growing larger by the second. You wanted nothing more than to touch him. While you reached for him again, your fingers made a grabby gesture. It was paired with a frustrated whine.

He wouldn’t budge, stepping just out of your reach. He smirked before movement below his waist caught your attention. He had grabbed himself in his hand, casually squeezing from his base to his weeping tip.

Pearly white precum beaded out from the slit, making your mouth water. Your taste buds ached for a taste of him. You huffed to yourself, licking your lips to keep from drooling. He grinned.

“Is this what you want so bad, sweetheart? Is this what you’ve been fussing over, what’s got you so bratty? You’ve become addicted. Daddy’s cock has got you drooling. From here.” He grabbed your cheeks, pushing your lips together. You felt the saliva in your mouth start to drip out.

“And from here.” He let go of your jaw, reaching down to cover your mound in one large hand. 

He groaned as you leaked onto his palm, stroking his fingers back and forth to coat his hand in your wetness. You twitched as he circled your oozing entrance with one thick digit. His thumb sought out your nub, putting pressure on the aching knot of nerves. You cried out softly, pushing your hips into his hand as he toyed with your most sensitive spot. 

“Such a messy girl. Dripping all the way down to my wrist and I’ve barely touched you.” He chuckled, and you buried your head in your arms.

“Don’t get shy now, sweetheart. Daddy still has to fuck the naughtiness out of your drooly pussy. Right after I make you gush around my fingers like the nasty girl you are.”

You gasped as he sunk a finger into you. Your body seized, but it wasn’t enough. He clicked his tongue as you hiccuped and ground your hips against his one digit.

“Oh, poor girl. You’ve got yourself so worked up. My finger isn’t enough.” He cooed mockingly. “How about another? But it just won’t be enough until Daddy fucks you nice and hard, will it?” 

You hide your face with a whine. He entered with a second finger, making you hiss. Your tight hole swallowed his fingers like it was starving.  He dragged his digits in and out of you, the tips of his fingers scraping the delicate spot residing inside you. You moaned, lifting your head off the counter to tilt upwards towards the ceiling.

“That’s it, work yourself onto my fingers. You’re absolutely soaked. You’re going to make a puddle on the floor if you continue like this.” He laughed while looking down at his glistening hand and forearm.

A third finger joined the rest, stretching you as his thumb found your pleasure button. Your legs shook with the pace he set, the rubbing of your clit was in rhythm with his pummeling fingers. A groan left you, your eyes rolling back.

“Listen to that wet little pussy.” He beamed with a wild look in his eyes as your tightness squelched. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to make a mess all over, like the dumb little baby you are. Such a poor little thing, you can’t help it. Feels so good, doesn’t it?”

Sobbing, you nodded to everything he said. This got him to chuckle, the muscles in his bicep bulging as he fucked you with his fingers. He curled said fingers downward, knocking against the spot that made your heart stutter. 

“Go ahead a cum, sunshine. Show Daddy you can still be a good girl and gush all over my hand.” He growled, his thumb winding tight circles as you mewled like a kitten. “So close, baby, just a little bit more… Theeere we go, good girl.”

He cooed as he felt you clench around his fingers, smirking as he knew what was about to happen. The wail you let out made your own ears hurt, but you couldn’t help it as you squirted all over his arm. You heard some of it hit the floor, as he anticipated.

You humped against his hand as he shook his fingers inside you, stretching your climax out for as long as he could. Your flesh had a light sheen of sweat, which Clark licked off your neck while nuzzling your shoulder.

“There’s a good girl. I knew you could do it. Maybe you’re not so naughty after all…” He hummed.  

Your head snapped up when you felt the sensation of his hard member against your dewy petals. Instinctively, you pushed your hips up. This gave him a perfect angle to plunge into you as he teased the tip against your aching clit. You hiccuped as he groaned deeply, still hazy from your climax but you never forgot your need for him inside you.

“There she is, there’s my girl. Getting ready to take it in her little hole because she can’t seem to care about anything else. Beg for it. Go on. Daddy wants to hear you beg to get your tight pussy demolished.” He traced the head of his length up and down your slit, coating himself in the juices leaking from your core. 

He teased your entrance, but never filled you like you wanted. A deep ache was building in your gut, tight and throbbing. It was beginning to hurt, being unsatiated for so long. 

If he wanted you to beg, you would grovel at his feet. If that’s what it took for him to fuck you.

“Daddy, please.” You whined, swaying your hips back and forth. “I-I need to be fucked. ‘M all wet and achy down there… Need you to fuck me. Wreck my princess parts, Daddy, please! Demolish me-AGH!”

You interrupted yourself with a loud cry when he plunged into you in one deep thrust. It took little effort on his part, your tunnel lathered in your arousal made easy passage for his manhood. Your mouth dropped open as he claimed every inch of you from the inside. 

A strangled gasp escaped your throat. It felt like the air was stolen from your lungs, only this time his hand wasn’t around your throat. The sheer size of him rendered you breathless.

“Look at that…” He murmured with adoration in his voice. He watched your face as all thoughts escaped you, becoming a panting and pliable doll for him.

“That’s really all you needed, sweetheart. You get Daddy’s cock inside of you and all the brattiness slips away, doesn’t it? It’s like your own kind of paci…” He murmured, chuckling under his breath when your walls fluttered around him.

He gave you no time to adjust, not that you really needed it. His thrusts were brutal, as promised. Your lips separated as a resounding cry forced its way from your chest. Finally, you got what you wanted. The euphoria was so strong, it was borderline painful.

With your face twisted, you tried to match his animalistic pounding. Soon, you found it too hard to keep up, so you arched your back and let him rail you. Clark found leverage with your hips, gripping them hard enough to cause bruises. He snarled, jaw clenching as his skin smacked against yours.

Your pussy gushed around the thick intrusion invading it. You could hear it when you paused your sobbing to catch your breath. He shivered behind you, his lip curling up in a cocky snicker as you listened to the harmony between your bodies.

“Do you hear that, little girl? Your poor little princess pussy is crying, she feels so sorry. What about you, huh? Are you sorry for being a bad girl?” He gripped your face in one hand, turning your head towards him.

The look in his eyes almost made you cum. His gaze was demented, obviously amused by your dazed expression. Your mouth hung open as you panted. You mewled, your hole never escaped his harsh thrusting. 

“S-Sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry for being naughty! O-Oh, god!” You finished your sentence with a moan when he lifted one of your legs, holding it up to pound into you even deeper.

You trembled, your body feeling tight. The throbbing in your core accelerated to match your racing heart. You gasped, eyes rolling back in your skull.

He grabbed your throat and leaned forward to press his chest to your back. Your leg was forced higher, inevitability forcing him deeper. You squealed weakly, the sound was broken. He cooed at the noises you let out.

“You poor thing, Daddy sure has fucked you dumb. All you can do is whine and cry as I bust open that pretty cunt.” He hissed.

The filthiness of his words made your toes curl. Your walls involuntarily fluttered around his aching member. You gasped, the tingling in your core increasing.

“Please, please, I can’t. I can’t- M-Mm…” You whimpered frantically while pinching your eyes shut. It was becoming increasingly harder to hold on. You didn’t want to get into anymore trouble by cumming without his permission

“I know, sunshine. You’re so close, I can feel you clenching around me. Cum for me, little girl. Gush all over my fucking cock, you dirty whore.” He snarled, sending vibrations straight to your aching pussy.

You came with a loud sob, heat washing over you as his words pushed you over the edge. Your lips fell open, but you were oblivious to the sounds you were making. Your ears were ringing as you rode your orgasm.

Meanwhile, your husband chased his high with your convulsing pussy. Your sweet moans rang in his ears. His pace stuttered for only a moment before he bottomed out and painted your cervix white. You shuddered in sync with him, his seed hot inside your walls. Clark bucked his hips, making sure to give you all he had as his balls jerked upwards.

He eventually stopped his movements, resting inside you. You could hear him exhale as you stayed bent over the counter, still catching your breath. The sensation of his hands rubbing up and down your sides relaxed you, making you give a satisfied smile.

He chuckled, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek. All traces of anger were gone from his perfectly sculpted face.

“Thank you for that, sunshine. I really needed it.” He hummed as you cooed and nuzzled his palm.

“Glad to help, Daddy.” You preened.

“You still need a real punishment for saying such bad words…” He trailed off as dragged himself out of your tender core. Both of you moaned.

With your legs spread wide, he pulled your cheeks apart, giving him a perfect view of your creampie. He growled with a playful smirk.

“How about a bath for the messy girl and then an early bedtime with Daddy. I’m not done with you just yet.” He chuckled and spanked you lightly on the behind, causing you to jump, more of his cum slipping out of you. 

You giggled, bending back up to book it towards the bedroom half naked. He chased after you with a grin that told you were in for a long night of “punishment”.

******

Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212 @rach2602

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #daddy!clark kent x reader #clark kent fanfic #clark kent imagine #henry cavill characters #clark kent #anon request #masterlist #clark kent smut

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

#movies #polls #the man from u.n.c.l.e. #the man from uncle #man from uncle #man from u.n.c.l.e. #2010s movies #guy ritchie #henry cavill #alicia vikander #requested #have you seen this movie poll

[joelslegalwhre]

Hey anon! I love the idea, thanks for your request <3

Just us

pairing ⁀➷ henry cavill x fem!reader

word count ⁀➷ 2.2k

summary ⁀➷ up in the ask

warnings ⁀➷ age gap (reader is in early 20’s, henry is 38), pure fluff, drunk Henry (but not in a bad way?), H/F means Henry's Friend, paparazzi

a/n ⁀➷ thanks for the request anon this was a blast to write!

Since an anon pointed this out to me; („paparazzi get called and scheduled“) they can also get their information about the whereabouts of a celeb from bartenders, spotters, etc… Please remember that I write fiction and not everything is like real life 100% of the time 🫶

Here’s my h.c. playlist

🥤my kofi if you’d like to leave a tip🩷

The night was truly not as you would have imagined it to be.

„Henry... c'mon bear, let's go home." you said, trying to get him off the barstool.

„You look beautiful.“ He slurred in your ear.

Goosebumps immediately spread over your entire body. You quickly kissed the corner of his lips, "Thanks. You look terribly handsome though, even drunk.“ you whispered with a chuckle, „That should be illegal."

His hands wandered to your hips, his fingers tracing shapes all the way up to your bra.

Henry was drunk as hell, and you had to get him home now before he did something in public, that he would regret later.

Luckily, one of his mates had your number and texted you about half an hour ago.

H/F: Hey Y/N can you please pick Henry up? We might have had a little too much of…. everything...

You: I'm on my way

You instantly hoped that there would be no press around.

You couldn't use paparazzi now, but they kind of always knew where Henry was. At any time of the day… or night.

Henry's friend had sent you the address of the club right after your last message.

Usually Henry wasn't someone who partied much. You spent your weekends together on the couch, walking Kal, or cooking together. But who never went out partying on a weekend?

"Kal?" you peeked through the door into the living room. His head lifted from his big dog bed, and he looked at you, panting.

"I'm going to pick up Daddy, will you watch the house while I'm gone?" Excitedly, he wagged his tail when he trotted to you as if confirming it to you to watch out. Lovingly, you petted him behind his ears. "I won't be gone for long."

"Alright." You muttered to yourself as the car came to a hold. You thanked the cab driver who would wait for you, and got out at the back entrance of the club. You wouldn't have found a parking space in front of the club by car, so the cab was clearly the better option.

Fortunately, it wasn't very busy, and you couldn't see any paparazzi. You took your ID out of your pocket and immediately received a few strange looks from the security guards. Sure, probably very few people came here in jeans, a hoodie and sneakers.

The club was loud and sweaty, and you could feel the bass of the music pulse through your body.

Just then you realized that you didn't know where they were, and the club was quite big, so you texted Henry's friend again.

You: I'm here, where are you?

H/F: At the bar, you have to get to the back of the club

You: Thanks

Making your way through the crowd, you began to sweat in your hoodie but couldn't take it off unless you wanted to walk around in only your bra, which you obviously didn't. You saw them just a moment later, all of them looking rather drunk. A chuckle left your lips when you saw Henry on a bar stool, resting his elbow on the counter. He was clearly drunk as hell. You wondered how they managed not to get the attention of the whole club by now, usually wherever Henry went the people recognized him. Right when you thought that, two girls walked up to them.

Henry didn't even see them, too interested to get the bartender's attention for another drink. His friends did though, just for the two girls to tap Henry's shoulder and flash him a flirty smile. He turned around by the sudden touch and drew his brows together. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but you grinned when he pursed his lips, shaking his head with raised brows.

He removed the girl's hand off of his arm, and his friends suppressed a laugh.

Just then, you finally reached them and immediately caught Henry's attention. „Hi, boys.“ you greeted his friends, and immediately got smiles and waving hands back.

„Excuse me, if you'd be so nice…“ You dryly said and squeezed past the girls, „l'm going to get this drunk mountain of a man home.“

„And who are you?" One of them asked with a deprecating look, eyeing you up and down.

„Mine." Henry answered for you. He grabbed the hem of your hoodie and pulled you to his chest. „Hey baby.” He purred as he put his big hands on your cheeks and kissed you.

You could taste the alcohol on his lips but didn't mind one bit. His curls were tousled, and you wanted to run your hands through them, to make them even messier. And as much as you wanted to keep kissing him, you broke away from him.

Henry still had his hands on your cheeks.

Your hands went to his and gently withdrew them from your cheeks. "You need a bed." you laughed lightly.

"Only if you are part of the bed too." He grinned and you shook your head, giggling. "Not today, Cavill."

Henry grimaced, „C'mon baby…..please".

„How old are you anyway?" one of them interrupted the two of you. „Yeah, are you even allowed into a club?" the two girls were still giving you deprecating looks,

„I'm old enough, thanks for your concern." you tried your best to sound as nice as you could.

„Henry... c'mon bear, let's go home." you said, trying to get him off the barstool.

„You look beautiful." He slurred in your ear. Goosebumps immediately spread over your entire body.

You quickly kissed the corner of his lips, "Thanks. You look terribly handsome though, even drunk.“ you whispered with a chuckle, „That should be illegal."

His hands wandered to your hips, his fingers tracing shapes all the way up to your bra. „Stop that." you lightly chuckled. Your hands softly grabbed his and removed them from your sides. „You can do that at home. When you're sober." you whispered into his ear, knowing damn right what it would do to him.

You turned to Henry's friend who had texted you, „Thank you." you chuckled, and he just raised his glass with a smile and nodded.

„Alright, let's go." you chuckled and took Henry's large hand. „Night, boys.

"They all gave an almost harmonic, and drunken, "Ciao, y/n", which made you laugh.

On your way out, you could still feel the gazes of the two girls on your back.

The same security guards that eyed you for your unusual choice of clothes when you entered the club, were now giving you the same looks. Not because of your clothes, though. You and Henry's hands were intertwined as you two exited the club, and he continued whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

You knew that look, it wasn't the „Omg, look that's Henry Cavill!“ , but rather the „She must at least be 15 years younger than him." look.

And even though there were almost 17 years between you and Henry, you looked even younger than you really were. Something the press absolutely loved, of course.

The moment you and Henry walked out of the club, you were greeted by blinding lights, dozens of shouting paparazzi.

Henry's grip on your hand tightened and no matter how drunk he was, he immediately switched to being your protector.

Almost everyone with a camera shouted his name, the few without were shouting various questions;

„How much younger is she?"

„Is this your girlfriend, Henry?"

„Who is she?"

„What's the name of the girl, Henry?"

And so much more that got lost in all the voices and shouting.

Henry let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder, protecting you from the paparazzi. „Give us some space, goddamn." you could hear how he tried not to sound as drunk as he really was. And you loved him even more for doing his best to keep you safe even when he wasn't feeling his best.

He pressed you against his chest and continued mumbling complaints.

Normally Henry was one of the most polite celebrities you knew, he smiled and gave them answers most of the time, but today they were definitely crossing a line.

He didn't stop walking, nor taking his arm from your shoulder when he grabbed the hood on your hoodie and pulled it down to shelter your face from them. In all the hectic and flashlights, you totally forgot that you could do that. Which once more showed that Henry might have been drunk, but he was still your protector, no matter what.

You helped him by guiding the way to the cab, still waiting for you outside the club. The paparazzi were following you until both of you got in, the car door shutting out their questions and the sounds of clicking cameras. „Fuck, I'm sorry, peaches."

„It’s fine, Hen. Don’t worry about it.“

Last night when you had made it home, Kal was impatiently waiting for you two. Whenever you didn't come home with Henry, which got rarer with each week, he got quite confused why his new mommy wasn't coming home with his dad.

Who was absolutely wasted right now. When he hit the soft bed, a moan left his mouth. „Wait a second before you fall asleep." you giggled, „l'll be right back." With Kal by your side, you went downstairs into the kitchen, getting Henry a glass of water and ibuprofen.

„Look at him, Kal." the dog looked at his dad and back up to you. A snort escaped your mouth. The mattress sank down next to Henry. „Babe... Hen." you lightly caressed his cheek. „It's better to take them now."

His eyes opened only so much to see you, he groaned but took the glass and the pill out of your hand.

You heard the door to the living room open and close, your head turning in Henry's direction. He blinked a few times, probably because the sun was still brightly illuminating the room. You looked up at him from were you were sitting on the floor, scratching Kal behind his ears, while Henry approached you. „Morning, bear." you smiled at him.

„Good morning, peaches." The sight of you and Kal together in his home was one of the things Henry loved the most. Thus, why he always wanted you to stay at his, so much so that it wouldn't take him much longer to ask you to move out of your own apartment.

He sat down on the couch behind you and patted his broad tights. He hugged your waist as you snuggled up to him, one leg draped over his thigh. „Thanks for the painkillers." he mumbled into your hair, breathing in the scent.

They smelled like peaches, and more so like home. „lt's an old trick my cousin told me about. The headaches are much less painful if you take them at night first and then again in the morning." you grinned at him. Henry kissed your forehead, keeping his lips there a little longer.

„l love you." he whispered.

„I love you too." your hands rested on his muscular chest. You just laid there for some time, Kal sleeping on his dog pillow, and listening to the birds singing outside.

„I bet the pictures are everywhere by now.”

You raised your head to look at him. A heavy breath escaped your lungs and Henry stroked your hair.

„Let them talk." you said.

„Who are they to tell us what to do and whom to date? Martin Freeman is married to Rachel Mariam, and she is 21 years younger than him." you played with Henry's fingers, „it's not like l'm underage.” Henry chuckled at your comparison.

„But you know what you are?" Henry asked with a soft smile. You propped yourself up on his chest, „What?"

„You are the woman I love. You are the only one I will ever love and the one I want to call the mother of my children. You," he stopped and looked at you with a look of pure love, „You're all I want."

With that, he had taken all the air from your lungs. Your mouth was slightly open and tears began to run down your cheeks.

"Oh baby, don't cry." Henry grinned as he wiped the tears from your cheeks.

"How am I not supposed to cry?" you sniffled. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever been told. And all those things, everything, I want all those things with you and only you."

As if Kal had been waiting for his moment, he put his head on Henry's thigh, looking at both of you. You giggled as you gently stroked his snout. "You too, Kal."

“l'm glad they know." Henry whispered to your hairline.

„Me too."

He wrapped his hands around you and pressed you back against his chest. His warmth wrapped around you like a blanket, and slowly your eyes closed.

Henry took out his phone to take a picture of the three of you, Kal on his pillow, you asleep on his chest. One of your hands rested on his torso while the other was resting under your head. He smiled at the picture. The sun was still shining into the room, painting everything in a golden light.

With the caption „Just us" he posted the picture. Confirming it to the whole world.

༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.

Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day🧡

#e writes #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x fem!reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #rp fic #real person fiction #henry cavill imagines #drunk henry #kal #fluff #requests #em's masterlist

[write-ur-wrongs]

Hurt So Good

Request: Reader is a healer and lives in Novigrad. When Geralt is hurt, he always visits her. I found these prompts: "Yes, I have feelings for you.”,"It could be worse. ", "I... sometimes, I guess I kinda wish you could see yourself through my eyes."

word count: 1656

___________________________

“He’s back,” Olivier said, holding the door to your room open with one hand, a drink-filled tray balancing effortlessly in the other, “and he looks rough.”

“What?” you asked, reluctantly pulling your attention away from your work. Your last patient of the day had just left your makeshift office and you were anxious to get the blood-soaked bedding cleared before stains could settle in. Sighing, you tossed the soiled sheets back into your wash bucket and turned to face Olivier, straining to hear your friend over the sounds of the bustling Kingfisher inn behind him.

“Your witcher’s here,” he repeated, “and he’s bleeding all over the fucking place.”

“Geralt,” you breathed, brushing your hands on your skirt and rushing to stand. You kicked the wash bucket under the table and threw the last of your clean linens on the bed, cursing the way your hands shook as you tried to prepare yourself before seeing him again. “Send him in, yeah?”

Olivier wordlessly waved the witcher in before pushing himself back into the clamour of the inn.

“And he’s not my witcher!” you hissed after him, his words registered a beat too late. You’d have to remember to correct him tomorrow, or later tonight. It would depend on how long Geralt stayed this time, and though you’d never admit it, you hoped it would be the former.

You didn’t have a lot more time to fret over it though, as Geralt came ambling into your room, fresh blood dripping readily onto the floorboards.

“Holy fuck?!” you swore, eyes wide.

“Y/N –” he tried, grimacing painfully as you practically lunged at him, your hands grabbing at his free arm while the other gripped his stomach.

“That looks fresh, when did this happen? Sit down, lay down –” you cut him off, guiding him rather forcefully to the bed so you could get a better look at the wounds.

“I’m fine, really. It’s just –”

“Who did this? Did this just happen? Outside?”

“Erm, yes, n-no, I –”

“Gods, Geralt.” You cut him off again, growing impatient with him and the small smile that had been pulling crookedly at his mouth since you laid a hand on him. The impossible man had the nerve to try to get up every time your eyes left his to examen his abdomen, where more blood pooled with every move. “Will you stop trying to get up?”

“Will you let me get a word in?” he asked, the gentle lilt of his voice pulling you back to him despite your growing worry.

You let out an exasperated whine, pushing him back down on the bed before pulling away with a slight wave of a hand, gesturing for him to elaborate.

Taking a moment to re-adjust himself on the bed, Geralt cleared his throat a little before starting. “It was a rotfiend.”

You gasped, another interruption on the tip of your tongue but you bit it back when he laid a steady albeit slightly clammy hand on your arm. How much blood had he lost?

“It could be worse…”

“Than this?” you tsked, shaking your head. “Geralt please, you’re strong but not invincible.”

“It’s just a scratch, the beast barely managed a swipe as I dealt the final blow.”

“Pretty big swipe,” you muttered.

“It was big,” he admitted. “Must have been feeding in those crypts outside Velen for months before anyone noticed it.”

“Velen…?” you questioned, the fresh gleam of his wounds contradicting the days journey he’d had to have undertaken to make it to you in Novigrad. “How –”

“I took a portal,” he cut in at once, anticipating you.

“A portal,” you deadpanned, not a question but an incredulous statement. “So, you had a sorcerer with you, one clearly willing to assist you or at least pay you a favour, and rather than have them deal with this, you put yourself in a worse situation by portalling here. To me?”

Geralt only looked at you in response, his strong features betraying a softness you told yourself must have been from his weakened state. It had nothing to do with you.  

Holding each other’s gaze for a few beats, you finally resigned and got to work on his wounds, starting with gently cleaning them out before tending to the sutures. As you worked, your eyes kept catching on the ragged lines of scar-tissue that covered Geralt’s abdomen. The worse among them was a thick ribbon running up his ribcage before disappearing under his shirt. You felt a familiar shame burn at the pit of your stomach as you let your fingers gently ghost over these reminders of previous wounds you’d tended to. They were easy to spot, glaring against his other, smoother scars left behind by sorcerers’ healing.

“Why?” you finally asked, your voice small, “why me?”

“I wanted to see you,” he stated plainly, craning his neck a little to get you to meet his eyes. When you refused, he reached for your hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I always want to see you.”

At this, you scoffed and shook your head.

“Do you not want to see me?” he asked, pulling his hand away from your arm.

“Of course, I do,” you breathed, but your voice was strained as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“Damn it, Geralt!” You throw the blotting cloth down on the bed and push up to stand. “What do you want me to say? That I wait night and day for you to come crawling through my door beat to a pulp? That, that I love seeing you here? That I curse you when you leave and pray for your swift return? Well, I don’t, Geralt.” You were pacing now, arms waving emphatically as feelings you’d worked so hard to repress came rushing out of you. “I – fine, yes, I have feelings for you, Geralt, okay?” you finally admitted, your arms landing by your side with a slap. “Difficult, complicated feelings. You’re covered in these painful reminders of -”

“-of when I got to see you,”

“Of you being hurt and me not being able to heal you properly.”

“You heal me perfectly, Y/N. Not as quickly as a sorcerer, sure, but more thoroughly than they ever could.”

“Your scars tell another story though, don’t they?”

“Y/N…” he breathed, reaching a steady hand out for you to hold.

You looked from his hand, calloused and bruised, to his striking cat-like eyes that always knocked the breath out of you and sighed, shaking your head. “I guess I just don’t see what you see in me.”

His hand didn’t move as he spoke. “I... sometimes, I just I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. See the strong, gentle, loving person I see."

“Wow,” you laugh humourlessly, cocking your head at him, “exactly how much blood have you lost?”

His hand dropped as something akin to hurt flashed across his features momentarily, regret hitting you like cold water. Geralt threw his head back against the pillow and pinched the bridge of his nose before muttering, “I’m going to fucking kill Jaskier…”  

“Now I know you’re not trying to put that line on the great bard,” you teased, trying to soften the blow to no avail. You studied his profile carefully, taking in the way the muscles of his jaw flexed tightly, how his fingers pressed punishingly into his closed eyes and sighed. You still had to apply healing serum to the stitches and then dress it and it had always been easier to talk to him if you kept busy, so you got to work before asking him the question that had been nagging you since came back to you the first time.

“If what you’re saying is true…” you faltered slightly, feeling his eyes on you the moment your hands touched him, “t-then why do you only come see me when you’re hurt?”

It took Geralt only seconds to answer you, but with your breath held and your pulse pounding in your ears, you could have sworn he’d made you wait hours.

“I thought I needed an excuse.”

“An excuse? So, you just waited until you were at deaths door before seeking me out? How – “but you stopped yourself from going down the myriad of questions – how did he know he’d have time to get to you? That’d you’d have the materials and ingredients to heal him? – when you saw the guilty look on his face and the realization hit you.

“Oh, my fucking god,” you squawked, smacking his arm lightly, “you took these hits intentionally? Knowing I could take care of them? That’s… that’s –” Sweet? Romantic? “Fucked up!” you finished, applying the dressing with far more pressure than necessary.

“I know, I know,” he wheezed, trying to tough out the pain, “Jaskier said the same thing.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” you couldn’t help it. You were laughing. This big, dumb, gruff oaf of a man, specially engineered to be cunning and strategic and with enough years on him to provide the wisdom to know better, had been letting himself get hurt to see you. He was laughing too now, the warm sound rolling over you and this time, you let it fill you with fondness.

“You’re all set to go, Geralt,” you said, dumping the linens into the bucket you’d abandoned when he came in and helped him get up off the cot, smoothing his shirt back down. “Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You promise?” he asked, looking down at you with soft, open eyes, a dimple creasing into his cheek as his crooked smile pulled against his lips. You couldn’t help it, you reached up and cupped his face with a hand, gently sweeping your thumb over the spot.

“Keep yourself in one piece going forward and I promise you, my door is always open.”

#the witcher x reader #Witcher #witcher fanfiction #Geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #fic request #anon #geralt x reader #the witcher series #henry cavill

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

Fandom: Night Hunter

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: For @enchantedbytomandhenry; You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Warnings: enemies to lovers trope (not sure if I nailed it though), unprotected p-in-v, creampie, Daddy kink, male tackling female to subdue (if that squicks you, maybe skip this one-it is quick but described)

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist 

Oh, this is great. No, it’s perfect. Not only were you voluntold to work a weekend-long stakeout, but you’d also be paired with Detective Marshall. Yeah, that Detective Marshall. Walter. The asshole who you’ve been competing with for ‘top dog’ since before joining S.W.A.T. all those years ago. 

He was always just ahead of you. Ran a mile half a minute quicker. Got promoted a month sooner. To top it all off, he was tall and drop-dead gorgeous. And he had an ass you could bounce a quarter off.

Wait, hold on. When did that become something you even cared about? 

The way he cockily smiles at you as he exits his truck in the parking lot of the motel is enough to have you clench your thighs together. This should be a fun weekend. 

Friday night into Saturday morning is spent quietly using the listening devices to monitor our suspect. You both just…sit there, using your ears. Walter is usually quiet, sure. But what human doesn’t even accidentally use small talk to fill a quiet space?

During the day, you try and sleep in your separate room but it proves to be difficult. You toss and turn, grumbling to yourself after a couple of hours. Visions of Marshall’s chiseled jawline, beefy arms, and thick thighs are burned in your mind. You abandon all hope of sleeping, spending the rest of the day disassembling and cleaning your sidearm. It keeps your mind sharp and you genuinely enjoy the process.

It’s nearing seven and you’re just getting your things together to head over to the surveillance room when you get a knock at the door. You peek through the curtains and see Marshall as he leans on the doorframe.

You open the door and look expectantly at him. When he doesn’t answer and barges into the room past you, you pipe up, “Come on in, why don’t you?” You close the door behind you and watch as he looks around the room.

He notices your gun cleaning kit on the small wooden table by the window and looks back at you. “You didn’t sleep today. You look like shit.”

“Awesome. Thank you. What do you want?” you snap, already sick of his annoyingly perfect face.

“Go home and get some sleep,” he crosses his arms, standing in front of you, “Got the B team coming in to take over.”

“So, we’re both leaving? Or are you just dismissing me?” you questioned, crossing your own arms.

“Just you,” he deadpans, not feeling the need to explain himself further.

“Well, fuck that. I’m not leaving, so if you’ll excuse me,” you fumed, moving to reach for your sidearm on the table as he moves over, holding a hand out between the table and yourself.

“I can’t let you take that with so little sleep. It’s dangerous for both of us. Trust me, one slip up, and one of us is down,” he warns, holding his ground.

“Marshall, get out of my way. We have a job to do.”

“No, I have a job to do. You’re off the clock. Go home, kid,” he urged, holding his position.

“You’re gonna have to take me out of this mission by force, Marshall. Otherwise, I’m-”

You did not get to finish that sentence before Walter was taking you down on your stomach. A strong arm fully extended holding your left shoulder, while your right wrist is being restrained, would have been enough. But, this was Marshall after all and if he was anything, he was thorough. He straddles your hips, with just enough pressure to keep you down, but not enough to scratch a certain itch.

“I didn’t wanna have to do that,” Walter breathes, winded slightly from the takedown, “but you gave me no choice.” 

“Marshall, get the fuck off of me,” you growl, trying to buck him off.

“Yeah, kid, that’s not happening,” he spits, hooking his ankles over your thighs, “You’re lucky I don’t cuff you to keep you down.”

“So, what? You just looking for a reason to get me to obey you?” you challenge, struggling under his weight.

“As if you needed an excuse,” he laughs, straightening himself above you.

“Please! If you honestly think-”

“Give it a rest, I can smell your arousal from here,” he teased, lowering his hips a fraction and watching your squirm, “And before you say it’s not because of me, why couldn’t I smell it until after I had taken you down?”

“Fuck you, Marshall,” you scoff, trying to hold some semblance of control.

“Yeah, maybe if you did, you could get some fucking sleep,” he offers, his left hand moving from your shoulder down your arm, “But here you are, stubborn as hell.”

You lick your lips, considering his words. You wanted to get some release. You also wanted to sleep. 

Fuck it.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” he queries, slowly starting to release your arms.

“I’m exhausted and I’m horny. But you’re doing all of the work, Marshall,” you say, lifting your hips to meet his crotch.

“That’s a good girl,” he hummed, releasing your arms before leaning up and off of you. You start to raise yourself before you are lifted and all but thrown on the bed and told to strip. Watching as his layers are quickly being shed, you all but rip away your clothing. 

Once fully naked, you look at Marshall where he stands watching you. Cock in hand, he pumps his massive length slowly while his eyes rake over you. “Tell me what you need,” he coaxed, his voice lower by at least an octave.

“Hurry the fuck up and put me to bed, Marshall, before I change my mind,” you threaten, your body thrumming under his gaze.

“You can change your mind at any time, you just say the word and this is over, yeah?” he informs, eyes connecting with yours.

“Heard,” you chime in, opening your legs for him. 

He kneels on the bed between your legs, reaching down to collect some of your wetness that glistens in the low light of the motel room. He lifts his hand to his mouth, sucking your juices off his fingers before plunging them inside you. “Fuck, girl, you are so wet for me. So fucking hot,” he moans, squelching sounds filling the room as he massages your inner bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Daddy!” you squealed, completely out of your control.

“That’s it, girl, cum for me,” he goaded, his thumb moving to play with your swollen button.

It doesn’t take long before you feel that familiar tightening in your core, and Marshall must be the World’s Greatest Detective™ because he is pulling out his fingers and thrusting his cock inside your wet heat. Fucking you through your orgasm, your tight walls fluttering around him causing him to groan loudly.

“That’s one, let’s see if we can’t get you another, yeah?” he teases, melding your chests together as he wraps his arms around your center. From this angle, he can stimulate your clit while stroking deeply. And he does so at a punishing pace, his teeth nipping and kissing your neck. “Fuck, we shoulda done this years ago, girl. This pussy is fucking made for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you mewl, that time was completely on purpose.

Marshall leans up, leaving one arm around you while the other hand goes to your hair, baring your neck. “Who’s pussy is this, girl?” he challenges, even though he already knows.

“It’s yours, Daddy,” you whine, legs wrapping around his hips.

“That’s fucking right, it’s mine,” he praised, hips pistoning into you, “And I’m gonna ruin you for everyone else. You’re mine, girl.”

His growled claim of you paired with the way he fucks into you has your legs trembling around him instantly, your second orgasm of the night flowing through you.

“Hmmm, that’s my girl, taking Daddy’s cock so well,” he groans, the sound vibrating through the both of you. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” you moan, squeezing your thighs around Marshall, “I love your fucking cock.”

“That’s right you love this cock,” he growls, pulling out and manhandling you onto all fours, “Put Daddy’s cock back in, girl.”

You reach back and line him up, pushing back to impale yourself before moaning out at the angle change. Marshall grips your hips, plowing into you, no doubt chasing his own release now.

“Fucking cum inside me, Daddy,” you whimper, loving the sounds coming from your sodden cunt as it is pounded.

“I’m gonna breed this perfect pussy,” he grunts, hips stuttering until he pushes in as deep as can, cock twitching and painting your insides so full that it starts to leak past your entrance. He pulls out slightly before starting to fuck his cum back inside you. The sensation alone has your pussy quivering around him for the third time before you fall forward on your front.

Marshall laughs as he gets up from the bed, going to the en suite bathroom. You can hear him taking a piss and you know that you should as well to combat any chance of a UTI. But your legs aren’t listening yet so fuck that idea. 

Your eyes are already closed when you feel a wet warmth between your legs as Marshall is wiping down your swollen sex gently before you snuggle into the comforter being wrapped around you. A kiss is placed on your temple and soon you hear the rustling of clothes being put back on.

The sound of your motel room door opening and closing barely registers as you fall asleep.

It is sometime later in the evening and you check your phone on the nightstand as it reads 12:12 AM. No need to make a wish. 

You take a quick shower and get dressed before heading over to the surveillance room. You are stopped outside of the room by a uniformed officer. “Detective Marshall asked me to keep you out. And he wanted me to give you this. That’s all I know, Ma’am.” The officer hands over a note and you step away and read it.

Hey,

I was serious about you getting some sleep. 

Get that ass back to bed.

Daddy will see you soon, girl.

Sweet dreams xx

A/N: So, like I don’t know how I feel about how I wrote Walter here. This is not MY Walter, but I quite enjoyed this version of him.

**Tag List**

@astheskycries 

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

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall smut #ellethespaceunicorn request fill #ellethespaceunicorn prompt fill

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

🎧Elle the Space Unicorn's Masterlist🎧

Reader inserts will have no descriptors, OFCs will be black and plus-sized(unless otherwise stated). I love being able to give girls/femmes who look like me the chance to romance some of their faves.

🎧Bless my current muse...🎧

I love to write fanfiction. Right now, my main muse is Henry Cavill. But I also like some Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters (see below who I will write for - send prompts or requests to @ellethespaceunicorn HERE).

Buy Me A Ko-Fi? | AO3 | Author Recs | Fic Recs | Headcanon Recs | Fic Prompts | Fic Title Ideas | Words to use instead of ‘said’ | WIP List | 2023 Fanfiction Wrapped | 2023 Character Wrapped

Masterlist is under the Cut...

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

Scrapbook (finished)

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

Don't Take My Sunshine Away (possibly on hiatus)

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

What Are You Doing, StepBro?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader

Summary: You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader

Summary: Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader

Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director's Cut] {DARKER FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Happy Birthday, Cupcake

Rating: General

Pairing: Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Treat Me Like A Slut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader 

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Don't Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Fifteen Minutes

Character: Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What Walter does with 15 minutes of his time.

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Syverson x Reader 

Rating: Mature

Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU.

Pretty As A Picture

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC

Summary: At a New Year's Eve party, Ransom Drysdale's life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

My Little Strawberry

Pairing: Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Rating: Mature

Summary: A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach. 

Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Summary: This is a prompt fill for some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over.

Praise You

Rating: General, pure fluff

Pairing: Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark Kent loves everything about you, especially what you think are your flaws.

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Shape-Up

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cpt Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

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

Follow-up to Shape-Up: My Little Strawberry

The Paganini Problem

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Summary: Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him.

Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Walter Marshall - Hobbies

Lloyd Hansen - Family, Quirks/Hobbies, Sleep

Lloyd Hansen - What happens when reader starts dressing to match lloyd?

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Clark Kent (Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League)

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

Napoleon Solo (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Steve Rogers (Avengers films)

Curtis Everett (Snowpiercer)

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Nick Gant (PUSH)

Jake Jensen (The Losers)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR CHRIS

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

Charles Blackwood (We Have Always Lived in the Castle)

Steve Kemp (Fresh)

Max (Sharper)

Nick Fowler (The 355)

Lee Bodecker (The Devill All The Time)

Chris (Destroyer)

Justin Capshaw (Law & Order)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR SEBASTIAN

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz, so far only these categories 😁 Let me know if you ever want to be removed!

General Fanfiction (Everything)

Henry Character Fanfiction

Chris Character Fanfiction

August Walker

Bright Like The Moon

Love, Napoleon!

Daddy Knows Best

Don't Take My Sunshine Away

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest

~Please DON'T ask me to tag you in a series that you've never 'liked' or 'reblogged'. It's just kind of rude. Also, don't ask for an ETA on the next chapter.~

*Blog Header, Cover Art for fics, Masterlist Header/MDNI 18+ Banner, Support/Reblog banner and Masterlist Dividers made by me in Canva*

#elle the space unicorn #ellethespaceunicorn speaks #my masterlist #ellethespaceunicorn masterlist #ao3 #chris evans #walter marshall #clark kent #napoleon solo #syverson #walter marshall x ofc #hc sherlock holmes #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #sherlock holmes #august walker #hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser #evan marshall #lloyd hansen #ellethespaceunicorn requests #humphrey stardust #charles brandon #ellethespaceunicorn prompt fill #sebastian stan #nick fowler #steve rogers #ransom drysdale

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine looking at fanart of your character, Doctor Doom, and Superman, with your best friend Henry.

“Oh, there’s more,” You said with a laugh as a notification popped up on your phone. You had notifications on for certain tags on websites, and one of them was Doctor Doom x Superman. It hadn’t been a popular tag at all - not even when Henry had played Superman and you had played the dangerous Doctor Doom in your respective franchises. But once it got out that Henry and yourself were friends, and played games together, oh, the internet seemed to REALLY like that. You opened up the notification and saw that it was more fanart. Those were always your favorites. “What is it?” Henry asked with a chuckle, looking up from the Warhammer figure that he was painstakingly painting. “Please don’t say more erotica, I don’t have enough beer to deal with that.” “No, actually, fanart of us - in that Barbie jail meme,” You said with a laugh, turning to show it to him. It had your character, Doctor Doom, in the Barbie role, wearing the infamous costume, mask included, staring straight into the camera. And then Henry, as Clark, in the Ken role, smiling and posing for the camera. “I haven’t seen anything that good since they superimposed our faces on the Destiel confession meme,” Henry said, laughing as he took a look at it. “See, you, you would get arrested. But Clark would never.” “I’m sure they said the same thing about Ken and Barbie at some point,” You said, saving it to your phone so that you could show some more of your buddies later. Henry looked like he was thinking about it then shook his head, dipping his paintbrush in paint again. “No, they definitely belonged in jail at some time or another.”

Requested by: @ma1egamer

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill imagines #celebrity #celebrity imagines #request #imagines #henryc #x reader

[darklydeliciousdesires]

20. “Please, remind me again why we’re having sex against a tree?” This one is giving Geralt vibes, I'm intrigued 🤭 x

Intrigued seems to be the word du jour in describing this particular prompt, bestie, hahaha! Here you are!

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

The lush greens of the late spring canopy occupy every last space within the forest, so thick and blooming that only the occasional beam of light from the bright sun shines through the entanglement of branches above.

The particular tree you are pushed against scattering blossoms upon you, shaken by the gentle breeze, while you are shaken by your lover, your dress and underskirts rucked up around your waist, Geralt behind you, his full cock sliding back and forth into the satin clutch of your cunt.

“Please, remind me again why we’re having sex against a tree?” you pant softly, a particularly deep thrust forcing a groan from you, the noise sending shivers through him.

"Because you complain that I never take you anywhere beautiful, love. So now here I am, literally taking you somewhere beautiful." Your face is a picture of incredulity as you turn to him, Geralt amused by your reaction to his statement. "Stop looking at me in that tone of voice."

You chuckle, gasping as he spears into you faster. "Oh, you assume yourself to be so very clever," you tease, Geralt grunting a 'hm', his lips meeting your neck in a fever of kisses.

"I assume myself to be a much greater fuck."

Well, he isn't wrong there.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt of rivia x you #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #ddd drabble requests

[sillyrabbit81]

Henry Cavill as Sherlock Holmes | Enola Holmes 2 (2022)

#henry cavill gifs #henry cavill #henry cavill edit #enola holmes 2 gifs #enola holmes 2 edit #enola holmes edit #henry holmes #sillyrabbit81 edits #sillyrabbit81 gifs #i'll bet he gives the best beard rides #enola holmes 2 #enola holmes #sherlock holmes #gif request #rabbitsgifs sherlock

[cinebration]

Unfailing Confidence (Sherlock Holmes x Reader) [Request]

hi! I just got an idea for a henry!sherlock fic, and your one of my favourite writers, so maybe you could give it a shot the next time you feel like writing? anyway,, the basic premise was that sherlock and fem reader hunt down and catch jack the ripper. maybe reader has to go undercover as a prostitute? since jack the ripper was active in 1888 and Enola Holmes was set in 1884 it could work :) <3—Requested by anon

Warnings: violence, blood

Gif Source: henrycavilledits

“While I’m just as keen as you to catch this monster,” you said, your words clipped, “I’m not as keen about this idea.”

“I would perform it myself,” he answered matter-of-factly, “but I do not have the requisite…proportions.”

You smothered a snicker behind a lace-glove hand. Sherlock, you had learned, was a most peculiar creature, given that he valued reason over emotion to a degree unseen among his fellow man. He could examine a corpse and not bat an eye, but to reference your breasts or your hips was tantamount to sin—or rather, not sin but embarrassment. The man knew enough about social conventions to be exceedingly polite in the presence of a lady, but you were his lady—and married at that.

Your humor flagged, however, as you glimpsed yourself in the mirror. The dress was nothing like the ones hanging in your wardrobe. They revealed more of your breasts than you felt appropriate, reminding you of the night’s intention.

“Sherlock, if I should find myself—”

“I will be nearby all the while,” he assured you as he cinched the last of the lace-up bodice securely. His large hands rested on your shoulders, then slid deliciously down the exposed skin before running over the fabric covering your biceps. The solid presence of him behind you grounded you, allowing you to suck in a breath to calm your stuttering heart.

“And if you should chase off after the man and leave me behind to the whims of the regular gentleman?”

His right hand moved passed your arm and followed the curve of your hip, lingering with firm pressure before reaching the knife secreted inside a hidden pocket you had sewn in for that very purpose. “I know my wife is more than capable of defending herself against the common masses.”

Snorting, you turned in his arms, pressing up against his expansive chest. Your fingers splayed across the torn and soiled shirt he wore—you weren’t the only one masquerading in costume that night.

“That may be, Sherlock, but the streets are different now. There is a…” You searched for the word. “A hedonism fueled by fear. These people think these nights may be their last. It turns them into animals, that fear.”

“So long as the fear does not infect you, I have no cause for worry.”

You sighed through your nose, pressed your forehead against his chest as his hands pressed flat against your shoulder blades, drawing you close. His heart beat steadily beneath your ear, encouraging yours to match it.

“Your confidence in me is unfailing,” you whispered.

“I know you,” he answered simply.

It wasn’t “I love you,” but it did more to warm your heart than the conventional phrase.

~~

Heavy rain poured down in sheets on the cobblestone streets, driving everyone indoors or under the eaves of pubs. The worn and slightly tattered shawl around your shoulders did nothing to stave off the chill of the night. You huddled beneath a broken eave down the alley from a pub one block away from the Ripper’s last kill.

Few men gave you a second glance, preferring the warmth of the pub. You didn’t complain, not wanting their attentions, though you made the requisite pleading noises to induce them to hire your services. All the while, you payed close attention to the shadows along the alley, searching for unusual movement, for a loiterer in the rain.

There was one at the far end of the street, slumped against the steps of a closed door, seemingly sleeping. Seeing him gave you strength, knowing Sherlock was there surveying with as critical an eye as yours, alert for any and all dangers to you.

The hours passed, steadily approaching midnight, than passing it by. The pub closed an hour later, the men shuffling out and dispersing quickly, albeit drunkenly, through the still-sheeting rain. You pressed miserably against the wall, trying to avoid the rain guttering down from the broken eave, and prayed that Sherlock was wrong and the Ripper would not reappear that night—or at least not reappear on your street.

The cold and the lack of patrons forced you to sit on your heels, huddled with your arms wrapped tight around your torso. Sherlock and you had not accounted for the weather. If you contracted a chill or cold, you were in for a miserable few days, assuming it didn’t turn into something more dangerous.

Beneath the incessant drone of the rain against the cobblestones and tiled roofs, you heard a sound. Alarm coursed through you, snapping you alert. Trying not to betray yourself, you glanced around only with your peripherals, searching for movement in the gray darkness.

Your right hand, concealed by your position against the wall, crept down to your pocket.

You heard the sound again, this time unmistakable: Footsteps against the cobblestones. They hesitated, as though searching for witnesses, deciding.

Your fingers fumbled with the rain-soaked fabric, heart thundering in your ears.

The steps approached, quick and confident now. You clawed at the dress, trying to force open the sodden pocket. Your fingers closed around the handle.

Your wrist caught on the pocket, the lace glove hitching on the fabric.

You leapt to your feet, pulling the knife free.

The figure slammed into you from behind, knocking your skull against the wall. Stars flared across your rain-blurred vision. Staggering, you whipped around, brandishing the knife in the man’s direction.

The rainy street was empty.

You spun around a fraction too late. You slammed against the wall again, your vision going black at the edges. The knife clattered to the street, a heavy hand twisting your wrist hard. Stifling a cry, you sucked in a breath to shout for Sherlock.

The hand shifted to your throat. Panic surged through you. You clawed at the hand, trying to see the face of the figure through the sheeting rain. Lashing out, you kicked with your heel, aiming for his thigh, his groin.

He grunted, his grip on your neck slackening. Knocking it away, you stumbled back, sucked in a painful breath. “Sher—”

A dark blur sprinted down the alley. The figure collapsed beneath it, a shout of surprise ripping past his lips. You scrambled for the fallen knife as Sherlock battled the man, the two of them rolling in the street.

The rain had submerged parts of the alley. Shoving your hands into murky water, you frantically scoured the cobblestones for the knife to help Sherlock. He grunted once, then again, stoking more panic within your chest.

Emerging empty-handed, you spun around, shielding your eyes from the rain. The men struggled against the ground, grappling in a flurry of blurred body parts. To your horror, Sherlock was on his back, struggling against the wild strength of the monster.

You raced across the slick stones, rolled your ankle as you reached the two men. Crashing into them, you felt something hard smack against the back of your head. A high-pitched sound rang in your ears as you lay in a daze on the cold stone.

Footsteps slapped through puddles, sprinting away.

You struggled to your elbows, slumped backward as a wave of dizziness and pain stirred up nausea in your stomach. Choking it back, you coughed on the rain trying to flood your nose.

Sherlock softly called your name. Fear drove through you like an ice spike at his tone. Forcing yourself into a sitting position, nausea and pain be damned, you blinked blearily through the sheets of rain until you saw a lump a few feet away. Shuffling on hands and knees, the lump in your throat thickening as nausea pushed insistently upward, you dragged yourself over to him until you could look down into his face.

“See?” he said, smiling weakly. “You are fine.”

You shook your head even as unease coursed through your guts at the sight of the smile. “I have lumps on my skull to say otherwise.”

Placing a hand on his chest, you smiled, then frowned. Lifting your hand away, you glanced down in time to see the rain sluice off a red slick on your palm. Dread raked cold fingers down your spine.

“It appears the Ripper has stabbed me,” Sherlock stated. “He has missed vital organs, but it is growing increasingly difficult to breathe.”

You leaned over him, stared down into his piercing blue eyes. Tamping down on your fear, you said, “Don’t you dare die on me,” pressed a hard kiss to his lips, and leapt to your feet to find a constable.

#Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock Holmes imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #Henry!Sherlock #Cavill!Holmes #Enola Holmes #Enola Holmes 2 #requests

[sweetandgentlecreature]

Can I request a jealous or possessive Sy, thanks!

Hey girl!! Of course! Why not a little bit of both, while we’re at it? I have a lot of thoughts about Sy being the jealous type, and his possessiveness goes hand in hand with that. Thanks for all the sweet comments you leave me, I really do appreciate them all! ❤️❤️

It’s the Little Things: Jealous!Sy Drabble

Warnings: grumpy-bear energy, navigating jealously and possessiveness in an established relationship, with a little something sweet (ha! Fic jokes) at the end

Sy is not a perfect man. He's been through all of the training, all of the boot camps and exercises, two tours and everything in between. None of it could have prepared him for life outside of the job. You've never asked him for perfection, and why would you? After all the shit he's done, everything he's seen, you were glad to have him this way. Flaws and all. It sure beats the alternative. He could've come back an emotionless robot-type, or worse. Not at all.

Nights like tonight make you thankful to have him back. The bar is crowded, almost shoulder-to-shoulder, but that's pretty normal for small town nightlife. When the beer's this cheap, you get used to it.

He watches you from his seat in the corner booth, basking in the glow of the neon lights and twirling a bottle cap between his fingers. His buddies are piss-drunk, talking over the noise of the crowd."Man, did you see that blonde with the tits? Could that skirt get any shorter?" "How could I miss her? One stiff breeze and that'd be all she wrote."

Sy never understood it. Why get married to someone if all you want is what you can't have? Their poor wives deserved better. He'd scoff and just shake his head, then flick the bottle cap their way to shut them up.

About that time, you'd make your way through the crowd to take a break from the dance floor. Relieved to have your presence as distraction from the current conversation, he welcomes you with open arms and sits you on his knee.

"Havin' fun?"

You smile and nod eagerly. "Yeah. The girls went to the restroom, so I'm taking a break." When you notice that the bucket of beer is empty, you stand again. He tries to protest, to pull you back down onto his lap, but you brush him away. "No, babe, you stay. I'll go grab us another bucket and I'll be right back."

Sy digs his wallet out of his back pocket and hands it off without protest. Drinks are always on him. He hates to see you go, but good lord, does he love to watch you leave. Things are good...until they aren't.

All it takes is for one drunk bastard to spoil the mood. You're standing at the bar, waiting on your drinks, when a harsh smack on your ass gets your attention. It takes you by surprise and you whip your head around, ready to scold your bear of a man for being so crass. A stranger meets your gaze and grins down at you maliciously, drawing you in against his chest. His grip is iron-tight, but before you can speak, he's gone.

Bottles crash to the floor. The crowd circles the commotion and you fight your way though to get to the source. Sy's got him pinned against the bar as he wails on him, each bunch landing with a sickly crunch on the drunk guy's face. You try to scream over the crowd to get his attention, but it takes Sy's friends and the bouncer to pull him away. It's safe to say that you're no longer welcome in that bar, but good riddance. You wouldn't want to go back anyway.

Sy trembles with rage. His eyes are dark, his knuckles are split and bleeding, but he's otherwise alright. He'd seen it all from across the bar. That poor bastard didn't stand a chance. When he sees you now, he grabs you up in both hands and holds you out to look you over for injuries. He didn't mean to start a riot, but when it comes to his woman, Clayton Syverson doesn't mess around.

"Fuck, baby, are you alright? C'mere, let me look 'atcha," he scrambles over himself, searching you for signs of distress. When he meets your eyes again, he relaxes a bit. You're not hurt, but you sure are pissed.

"What where you thinking?! He could've hurt you! What if he had a knife, or a gun?! You're not bulletproof, you know!" Taking his fist in your hands, you hold it gently and brush your thumb over his knuckles. Nothing's broken, but it'll be sore for a while. Sighing, you shake your head at him. "Come on. Let's go home."

The next morning, he's up making breakfast. His hand is wrapped, thanks to your doing, and he pops a chocolate chip into his mouth as he flips another pancake on the skillet. You slip in behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. You kiss him on the shoulder, running your hands along his chest as you hold him close. It's quite the juxtaposition to the events of last night, but you don't mind. It'll be one hell of a story to tell the grandkids someday. "How's the hand?"

Sy holds it out and flexes his fingers, wincing a bit at the twinge of pain. Sure, maybe he's not bulletproof, but he'd do it all over again to protect his girl. That, and the sex afterwards was pretty damn great.

#request #henry cavill #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson smut #captain syverson fic #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut

[delicate-moon-princess]

omg hi i was the one who asked about your masterlist , your blog looks SO PRETTY IM IN LOVE !!!! ❤️

also if your requests are open here's one from me , if not that's completely fine . For once I just want to see this big beefy bulky man losing control , like hes just full on railing the reader and the reader does not stop even after they've both come so he's very overstimulated . There's something about big dominant men shaking with pleasure im gonna go eat some grass now

Revenge

Summary: Henry is always pushing your body to the limit. So, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: 18+ RPF, smut, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, male sub vibes, dirty talk, ball squeezing, bodily fluids, hyperspermia (it gets a little filthy hehe)- Let me know if I forgot anything!

Word Count: 1.4k

Any typos are my own!

A/N: Hi, nonnie! I’m so happy you like my blog 🥰 And thank you so much for the request! I’m stuck at home with covid and nothing to do but write so luckily I was able to get this out pretty quickly. Anywho, I present to you a very overstimulated Henry. I hope you enjoy, love you! ❤️

Your body was still buzzing after both of you had reached your climax. Henry groaned when your nails dug into his back, his hips slowing as he rode out his orgasm. Desperately, you let out a whimper and shook your head.

His cum was so hot inside of you, and it did nothing to extinguish the fire in your center. All it did was make it burn greater. You still needed more. He couldn’t stop now. No way. 

“N-No, don’t stop.” You panted, trying to bring him closer when he went to pull away. “Again.”

“Again? Needy, are you?” Henry breathed, raising a brow with a grin. Although his refractory period was short, he hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. He needed a minute.

You two had been going for hours. The fact that he could make you so needy pleased him. He laughed, trying to catch his breath so he could continue

“Yes, again.” You grunted, narrowing your eyes while he grinned. 

He knew the things he did to you. He knew the constant craving your body had for him. And he loved it. Sick of his triumphant smirk, you pushed him off you.

It was obvious he let you over power him. There was no other way you could have pushed him around. Henry fell onto his back beside you with a hearty laugh, watching as you moved to straddle him. He moaned when you gripped his still hard cock.

Dripping with his cum, you placed one hand over your pussy. This effectively trapped whatever threatened to escape your hole. His cum needed to be savored. You wanted him to double the load already inside you.

You slid down onto him without giving him a chance to recover. Both of you gasped. He went in nice and easy with all of his cum still inside you. You rested for a second, leaning your head back with a moan. When you looked back at him, it was your turn to smirk

“W-Wait…” He whispered, holding you still with his hands on your hips. It looked like he was still trying to recover.

“Sensitive?” You grinned impishly, earning a warning snarl in response.

Henry’s face twisted. His full lips parted and his brows furrowed. You knew he had forced the same expression on your face dozens of times before. When he kept going, despite your overstimulated body.

It was time for a little bit of revenge.

Once more, you started to grind on him with your hips. He squeezed your flesh while letting out a feeble moan. You returned his sound with your own whimper, your hands coming down to rest on his chest. Henry growled when you lightly tugged on his chest hair.

“Watch it.” He warned you, hissing through his teeth as his eyes still remained closed.

“How many times have you made me cum in one night?” You questioned him rhetorically as he groaned under his breath. The answer was a lot. “And you want to stop after just one?”

“It’s different with men.” He grunted at you, making you scoff a little.

“If you can’t handle it, just say so.” You giggled breathlessly, watching his face. His eyes snapped open at that, exactly like you thought they would.

Henry never backed down from a challenge. He lightly dug his nails into the skin of your ass as he growled.

“I can handle it.” He snarled.

Not willing to back down either, you smirked, “We’ll see. You won’t last long.” 

His mouth dropped open when you clenched down onto him. Your pussy’s firm hold on him caused him to yelp. He didn’t seem so confident anymore. Although you could tell he wanted to argue, the vice grip you had on his cock prevented him from saying anything.

You began to bounce. Henry let out loud moans while laying under you. All he could do was hold onto you and let you ride him. So you rode him like your life depended on it.

He bottomed out inside of you each time you shoved yourself down onto his length. The little nubbin at the top of your slit scraped against the heated flesh of his shaft, causing you to gasp. Your walls pulsated around his throbbing dick.

By the way his jaw clenched and his eyes were pinched shut, it was obvious that all of his effort went into not cumming. However, you weren’t about to give up. He wasn’t going to outlast you.

You increased your effort tenfold. Your breasts swung back and forth as you bounced. You knew Henry would have drooled over them had he been looking. 

His skin slapped against your own as you yanked yourself up and down his entire length. The loud moans you both let out almost rattled the windows.

When Henry started to shake, you knew you were winning this little battle. You slowed your hips to a grind and reached behind you to place your hand on his undercarriage. His eyes sprung open when he felt your touch on his balls.

You grinned proudly. As you gave his sack a gentle squeeze, you watched his expression. It made the big, beefy man whimper.

“Ah, fuck…” He hissed when you gave another squeeze, his back arching off the bed. He had to be aching by the way his balls swelled in your palm.

“These are just throbbing, puppy.” You cooed, teasing as your hips never stopped rolling. The nickname made a harsh tremble rip through him. 

“Seems like you’re about ready to cum again. So soon, too…” Your other hand fell to his chest, grazing your thumb over his nipple. He jumped again with a low whine.

The sound only made you squeeze him again. His thighs were trembling, his muscles straining as he desperately tried not to cum. Still, he tried to outlast you. So stubborn. You knew how to break him. 

Pausing for a split second, you rolled your lower half in the way you knew always made him weak. If you were being honest, it also made you weak. His tip grazed the most sensitive spot inside you repeatedly. It was enough to make you cry out loudly.

“You want to fill me up again? I can feel how bad you’re aching for it.” You gasped. 

He loved it when you talked dirty with him. So you gave him filth. 

“Can’t you feel all that cum still inside? Don’t you wanna bust another load in me, puppy? C’mon, do it. One more time, fill me up.” You panted, desperately trying to work both of your overstimulated bodies to climax. 

Your dirty talk worked. With one loud howl, he emptied himself inside you. The sensation was enough to push you over the edge again. Your orgasm ripped through you right after his, making you fall forward onto his chest.

For the first time ever, you recovered before him. You listened to his pitiful whimpers. He shook violently under you as you slowed the winding of your hips. His hands frantically gripped at you, clinging to your form. 

You looked at his face while resting your head on his shoulder. His skin dripped in sweat and brows were furrowed in what looked like pain. The mouthwatering pain of overstimulation, which he made you feel so many times before. It felt good being on the other side of the treatment.

Trailing your lips up and done his neck, you sweetly pulled him out of his orgasmic trance. Your lips softly smooched against his skin. You showed him the same affection he gave you after he worked your body to the limit.

Eventually, his heavy breathing slowed and he opened his eyes. You hummed when he groaned. He pressed his forehead against yours as he tried to recover. His breath tickled your lips, making you lazily kiss him.

“Revenge is so sweet.” You murmured with a smile, tracing his collarbone.

“You’re evil.” He huffed and chuckled as his hand rubbed your lower back.

“Yeah, but you love it.” You giggled, leaning back up.

Both of you hissed when he slipped out of you. Finally, his tender cock was able to begin softening. You stayed hovering over him for a moment, leaving your dripping pussy over his v-line.  

Henry watched as his cum slipped out of you in thick dollops. He moaned when it dripped onto his flesh, looking up at you when you sighed softly.

“Look at the mess you made, puppy. Filthy boy.” You clicked your tongue, still on a power high from hearing him whine for you.

Your words made him twitch again, gearing up for yet another round. How could his body still not be satisfied? His eyes rolled back with a groan. It was going to be a long night.

A/N: I better go eat some grass after this one too 😅

Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212  Credits: Divider- @firefly-graphics

#anon request #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill smut #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #masterlist #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom

[bradshawssugarbaby]

I'd like to request "Are you hurt?" and "Don't touch me." with walter marshall. Thank you!

oooh this one was harder to write, but I hope I did it justice!

Walter furrowed his brows, giving you a disapproving stare. You didn't fight often, it was a rare occurrence when you did anything more than disagree politely. In fact, it was so rare for you to fight, that when you did, you were caught completely off guard. You'd gotten into an argument over Walter's attitude the past couple of days. He'd been withdrawn - more so than usual, and miserable. You knew he was never the most cheerful or bubbly person out there, but this was odd, even for him. He was normally very gentle with you - stoic and reserved, sure, but never temperamental with you. He often found comfort in you - your presence a calming beacon for him when his work as a homicide detective became too much to handle some days. "What is your problem, Walter? It's like I can't even fucking talk to you," you shouted, shaking your head.

"I don't have a problem, darling."

The way he said darling stung, dripping with condescending sarcasm, a cold hostility added to the nickname he so often used with deep affection towards you. Your eyes narrowed as you set the dish you were drying down on the counter, throwing the tea towel down beside it.

"Then will you please stop being such an asshole?"

Walter's blue eyes widened in disbelief at your boldness. He frowned further, eyes glaring at her. He refused to respond, instead stomping away, storming off to the living room in brooding silence. You sighed in frustration, shaking your head with an exasperated sigh. Walter's ignorance towards you was almost painful. You craved his touch, his attention, and being starved of it because of whatever had triggered his bad mood was making your night almost unbearable.

A couple of hours of not speaking to one another had passed by, the deafening silence beginning to choke out the room, making it harder and harder to avoid it. You tried watching tv in the bedroom, avoiding Walter entirely. You'd tried scrolling social media on your phone, praying some silly little animal video would drag a giggle out of you, you'd even attempted to listen to a podcast to try and fill the void with something, anything that distracted from the quiet. Finally, unable to find anything mind-numbing to distract you, you resorted to trying to take care of a few household tasks that were overdue, neglected because of your demanding careers.

As you stood on a step ladder, hammering a nail into the wall to hang a photo, you listened for footsteps to see if Walter would come to investigate what you were doing, curious about the sounds coming from the bedroom. Unfortunately for you, he couldn't seem to be less bothered. You took a swing at the nail again, but foolishly forgot to slide your thumb two millimeters to the left, bringing the face of the hammer down directly onto your unsuspecting finger. You let out a yelp along with a string of curse words. Stepping down off of the step ladder, you turned to head to the kitchen to fetch some ice but instead walked directly into Walter's broad shouldered frame.

"Are you hurt?" He said softly, frowning at her.

"I'm fine."

"You yelled."

"So?"

"So, are you hurt? Why are you holding your hand like that?"

His brows knit together in concern for you, shaking his head. He offered his hand out to you, reaching to take your injured hand in his to check it over, trying to gauge how badly you'd managed to hurt yourself. As his hand brushed against yours, you yanked it back, reacting to his touch as if you'd just stuck your hand into a fire, scorched from the heat.

"Don't touch me."

Walter frowned at your reaction, dropping his hand to his side. He shook his head as he walked off, disappearing once again. You were just about to start yelling at him, demanding to know why he refused to speak to you, when he returned holding a sandwich bag filled with ice cubes. He held it out to you, his eyes soft and pleading, as if he was making an offering of peace to you, waving his white flag of surrender.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his blue eyes looking down at your hand, watching as you placed the ice over your throbbing thumb, "I've had a rough few days and nights with work, this case is driving me mad, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"You really shouldn't have," you began before letting out a sigh, "I'm sorry. I should have probably been a little bit more compassionate towards you."

"It's fine, darling," he said softly, his chestnut brown curls shaking as he gave a nod of his head, "Am I forgiven?"

"I suppose. But only if you go finish hanging that picture I wanted in the bedroom. Clearly I can't wield hand tools when I'm upset."

"You can't wield hand tools when you're happy either, to be fair," he smirked, the first smirk you'd seen on his face in the last week.

#walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #requested #walter marshall #henry cavill characters

[amournoir]

Wait are you really back?! Also, can I ask for fluff prompt, #3 for Clark Kent? I didn't know you wrote for HC characters??!

Fluff Prompt | C.K {request}

℘ prompt — listening to s.o rant/vent (#3)

℘ warning — none, just fluff

℘ pairing — clark kent x f!reader

℘ count — 1.1k

In the heart of Metropolis, his cozy apartment offered a refuge from the bustling city streets. Today, it served as a safe haven for Y/N, who had endured a particularly trying day. Tears welled up in her eyes as she slumped on the couch, seeking solace in the arms of her loving boyfriend, Clark. He came down the stairs and into the living room to find her brooding on the couch. Concern etched on his face, Clark made his way toward her and gently sat down as though the slightest movement would set her off.

He wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close. "Hey, what's wrong, my love?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness. "You can always talk to me about anything."

Sniffling, Y/N leaned into his comforting embrace. "It's just been a horrible day. Everything went wrong and I feel so overwhelmed."

Clark gently stroked her hair, his heart breaking for her. "I'm here for you, Y/N. You don't have to face this alone."

Y/N let out a huff then instantly got up and began pacing around the room. Her arms were folded then unfolded, they were on her hips then scratching her head, she was a mess to say the least. Still, the alien sat quietly and watched her closely.

“Don’t do that.” She suddenly said.

He cocked his head in confusion, “Do what?”

“Scan me.” She stopped and faced him, “Clark.”

“Honey I need to be sure you’re alright.”

“I will be.” Was all she said before swiftly turning on her heel towards the stairs.

He knew better than to follow so instead he figured he might as well ensure that the rest of her day went swimmingly. An hour and a half later, Y/N was back downstairs, freshly showered and dressed. Clark was nowhere to be seen or heard so she made her way to the kitchen and made tea for the both of them. Y/N sighed as she filled both mugs then took her seat on the island and quietly drank.

Almost half an hour had passed and right before she could reach for her phone to call him, the doorknob jingled. Her hand flew to her chest but a loud sigh escaped when she recognized the large figure. Leave it to Clark to fashion a distress alarm into her anniversary necklace. These were the rare moments that she was grateful to be dating a hero.

“I couldn’t find it at your usual place so I got it from our little spot.”

Y/N rose from her seat and leaned against the archway between the living room and kitchen. “Got what?”

He lifted the silver bag with a beaming smile, utterly proud of himself. “Gelato.”

“Clark, tell me you didn’t.”

“Honey, when have I ever lied to you?” He replied as he walked past her.

Y/N scoffed and turned to the kitchen. “You flew to Italy for ice cream?” She asked incredulously.

“Of course not, that’d be a bit silly.” Clark placed the bag on the island then in long strides, he was standing in front of her. “I flew to Italy to make you happy.”

She stared at him surprisingly although she didn’t know why. She should be used to this by now but in all honesty, who would? All she could do was offer a small smile before pressing a soft kiss on his lips, tip toes and all. His arms circled around her waist and pulled her closer, his left hand cupping her neck gently. He could hear her heartbeat slowing, the energy within her calmed. Clark couldn’t lie that he enjoyed being the one to ground her as she often did him. Who knew all it took was Italian ice cream?

Eventually they both pulled away and sat next to each other. Clark drank his tea and Y/N happily ate her ice cream in silence. Peaceful, quiet, calming silence enveloped them whilst they stole a few glances between each other. Soon Y/N began to vent about her day, Clark listened intently. His super hearing allowed him to pick up on every nuance in her voice, every hint of sadness and frustration, making her feel truly heard and understood.

"I hate feeling like this," Y/N admitted, her voice shaky.

Clark kissed her forehead tenderly. "It's okay to feel that way sometimes," he reassured her. "You're human, and you're allowed to have bad days. I'm here to support you through it all."

Y/N's heart swelled with love for him, grateful to have him as her rock. "Thank you for being so understanding," she whispered.

He cupped her face, gazing into her eyes with affection. "You're my world, Y/N. I'd do anything to make you smile again."

With his encouragement, Y/N felt safe enough to share her vulnerabilities. She opened up about her fears and insecurities, knowing he would cherish her words and hold her feelings close to his heart. These are the moments that made her forget completely about his origin. She didn’t see him as this superhuman being that had the gift of flight, she saw him as the love of her life. In these moments, he was as human as human can be.

As the conversation continued, Clark offered words of comfort and love. "You're so strong, Y/N. I believe in you, and I know you'll get through this," he said, his voice filled with unwavering support.

Feeling the warmth of Clark's love enveloping her, Y/N's tears began to subside. His presence alone was a source of strength and solace.

With a gentle smile, Clark wiped away the remaining tears from Y/N's cheeks. "You're not alone on this journey. I'm right here by your side."

Y/N's heart fluttered with love for Clark, knowing she was truly blessed to have him in her life. "I love you," she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

"I love you too, Y/N," Clark replied, his eyes shining with adoration. "And I'll always be here to listen, to comfort, and to support you."

As the night unfolded, Y/N and Clark decided to spend the rest of the evening cherishing their love for each other. They shared tender moments, expressing their feelings and devotion, and basked in the comfort of their embrace. In the arms of her superhero, Y/N found solace not only in Clark's superpowers but also in his super love. Together, they knew they could conquer any obstacle life threw their way, because their love was as powerful and unyielding as any superhero's strength.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @sweetwrathoflilith @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @mikaelsonsdeservedbetter @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @dreamingwithrafe @softcoremaybank @klaustopia  @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckysbabydoll-x

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