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marveldcmistress · 6 months

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Heartbreak Amongst the Harem

A/N: It's here! Thank you to @just-ten-cents for the encouragement and beta writing for me! And like most of my writing, this is purely self-serving. Based off a dream I had about Mikey, but I threw is the other three just for spice and giggles. Enjoy!

Summary: Reader is in a poly relationship, and everything was going great, until a lack of communication and people's hurt feelings cause some loyalty issues.

Pairings: Mike (Hellraiser) x Plus Size!Reader, Captain Syverson x Plus Sized!Readaer, August Walker x Plus Sized!Reader, Walter Marshall x Plus Sized!Reader

Trigger Warnings: cheating, reverse harem, cussing, physical violence/threats of physical violence, hints and innuendos of smut, drinking and smoking, if there's anymore just let me know.

If someone would have told you a year ago you would be in a relationship with four men, who are more than happy to share you, you would have laughed in their face. It was a wonder even one out of the three older men took a second glance at you, let alone all three wanting you. You were less surprised about Mikey though. You were fully aware that he was a whore. He almost bragged about it when he could come in during your shifts at the bar.

All four had been customers at some point or other. Sy, Walter, and August had all grown up together. Despite being fourth cousins, twice removed, or however they tried to explain it to you, they grew up in tight knit families. Eventually, Sy went into the military, August was hired into the CIA and Walter went off to college and became a cop. But as life goes, it brought them back together when Sy retired, August chose to leave the CIA, and Walter offered to move them into his house to fill the void Faye left when she went to college.

Sy had started his own dog training business while August became a personal trainer for the police academy. Months after though was when Sy got the call from one of their other cousin’s, Liza. Liza had gotten pregnant at 17 and raised Mikey mostly on her own. When Mikey had gotten into college in the same city, she had practically BEGGED Sy and Walter to let him live with them so he would stay out of trouble. And it worked, for the most part. There had been a few times where some of Mikey’s flings had shown up to the house because he had ghosted them and they couldn’t handle it, but Walter had that straightened out pretty quickly.

The first time you met them, they had all come in for Mikey’s 22nd birthday, only wanting a couple drinks and some wings before going home for work the next morning. You were behind the bar, busting ass alone and looking fantastic while doing it. Sy and August had shared a look. It wasn’t uncommon for them to share a woman during their usual one night stands. Walter had rolled his eyes and shook his head. One day these three were going to get him killed. Despite his thought process though, he could agree that you were an attractive woman. All four men were flirting with you all night, causing a blush to cover not only your cheeks, but spread all the way down your neck and across your chest, much to their delight.

It went on that way for months, sometimes they would come in individually, just two or three of them, or as the whole group. Sometimes it was deep conversation about the darkness they had seen in the world, the battle of darkness inside of them, and the anger at the universe they held for making them go through that darkness alone. Everytime though they would flirt with you. Eventually, you fell in love with them.

Sy was the perfect southern gentleman, funny and sweet and respectful. He always told the worst dad jokes. August was snarky and sarcastic, but he called you Kitten and it just made you weak in the knees. Walter was grumpy and brooding, but the intellectual conversations you would have stimulated you mentally, which stimulated you sexually as well. He could also appreciate any insight you could provide from what little he could tell you about his cases.

And last but not least, Mikey. He had gotten the nickname Baby from you because of his baby face. He was like a puppy dog to you. It had taken some convincing from Mikey and the others for you to give him a chance. It was unconventional, but it worked for the five of you. Sy and August were your makeshift bouncers when your boss fired the last one you had without having someone to replace him and they never interfered with your job unless it was a risk to your safety. Sometimes when flirting with customers for tips they would get carried away, but that’s not the point.

Everything was going great, until you got that text that shattered everything. It had been a beautiful summer day in the middle of July. Sy had taken you and Walter on a trip for the weekend in between cases. The cabin on the lake was beautiful, lush green grass surrounding you, trees thick and abundant. Sy and Walter were on the docks fishing while you were sitting on the porch drinking a glass of moscato. August had appointments for a personal training business he had just started and Mikey had opted out, spouting something about having summer classes he had homework for. It struck you as odd, he hadn’t told you about taking summer classes before, but you shook it off and decided to have a good trip with the two lovers you had with you. There was no cell service out here so you had to entertain yourself.

After your much needed break with your boys, filled with sex and rest, it was back to business as usual. Walter had once asked you to move in, to which you had told him it was too soon. You would love to move in one day, when your relationship with all four men was at a more permanent standing. It wasn’t that you didn’t see a future with them, but you were still unsure as to how this poly situation would work long term. But that was a discussion for another day.

It was a week after your trip and you were hustling behind the bar, flipping bottles and slinging drinks. It was an extra busy Saturday night, the band being extremely popular amongst the local community. Sy and August were standing at the very end of the bar by the door, two sets of military trained eyes scoping every part of the crowded room. You’re so busy you don’t have time to check your phone when you see a notification from Mikey light your phone up.

It wasn’t until after the last customer had left and you finished all of your side work did you look at your phone. Sy was walking behind you to his truck, his hand in your back pocket. August had left after last call, saying he was gonna set up your nightly routine at home so it was ready when you got there. Your boys always treated you so well.

You unlock your phone and click on the notification. You weren’t surprised to see he had sent you a video, as Mikey had an obsession with TikToK and liked to share what he thought you would enjoy. As you wait for the video to load, Sy helps you climb into his truck, his hands pushing you by the ass into the seat, pinching just under the cheeks before you sit down.

“Ow, Sy!” you yelp. He just chuckles, vibrations coming from deep in his chest.

“Can’t help it, Sugar. It’s just so juicy,” he says as he sends you his signature failed wink, making you laugh as you call him an asshole. You had almost forgotten your phone in your hand until the video started playing. You watch, confused at first as to why you see your ex-coworker MaKenna on the screen. But the longer the video goes on, the worse it gets. She’s half naked, completely bare from the bottom down and bouncing on someone’s……. And then you see his face and your blood starts to boil.

It’s Mikey, under your ex-coworker, letting her ride reverse cowgirl. His hands are on her hips and his hips are meeting hers and you’re gonna get sick. MaKenna wasn’t exactly a bad coworker or person, you knew she was promiscuous, and you didn’t judge her for it. But she knew you and Mikey were together. And though it was an unconventional relationship you had with him and his cousins, you were big on loyalty and each man had pledged their loyalty only to you. So for him to have done this to you broke you on the inside.

Just as they start to get louder, tears start to burn in your eyes. Sy catches on to the noise coming from your phone and looks over the console to your phone. The second he recognizes his little cousin’s face, he’s pissed. He knew Mikey had been a slut, but it seems he needs to teach the little prick a lesson about messing around on the woman you promised to only give certain affections and attentions to.

“That little fucker. I’m gonna beat his ass.” he mumbles, starting to tear out of the parking lot and speed towards home. You ignore him, locking your phone and wiping the tears out of your eyes. You had confided in all four that you had been cheated on before, and all of them had worked hard to earn your trust. You never thought one of them would do something like this to you. Before you could stop it, a sob burst from your chest and out of your mouth. That’s when the dam really broke and you started crying uncontrollably.

“Oh baby. I’m sorry, I know it hurts. I’m gonna get you home and August and I are gonna take good care of ya. And then we’re gonna hunt down that little prick and kick his ass real good.” He reaches across the console to wipe the tears from your eyes before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his side. It’s uncomfortable, the console digging into your ribs, but you appreciate his attempt to love on you.

You pull into the driveway ten minutes later. Sy doesn’t even give you a chance to get out on your own, opening your door and wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you inside the house. August had heard you pull in and met you at the door, one brow lifted in question. Then he saw your red, puffy eyes and his ocean eyes turned murderous. You simply just unlocked your phone and handed it to him, Sy walking away to let him watch the video without hurting you even further.

“What the actual fuck?!”

“I’m already planning to kick his ass so get in line. But right now she is my main priority,” Sy hollers behind his back. Normally you would admonish him for talking about you in front of you like you weren’t even there, but you were too busy trying to keep air in your lungs to really care about telling him off. Your chest hurt and your eyes stung and it just felt like your world had come crashing down. You knew you would owe Sy big time when this was over. August too.

Sy had carried you into the master bathroom where August had set up a bubble bath with candles and snacks. He had taken to spoiling you after your long shifts. You had found out very quickly he was dominant and took his duties as a dom seriously, and that included pampering you with only the best. Most weekend evenings/mornings after your shifts at the bar include a hot bubble bath with your favorite wine, snacks, and a good foot rub. That is usually followed by a full body massage with your favorite lotion. If you happened to stay awake during the massage, you’d then get the best dick down to finish you off and send you to sleep more than satisfied.

“Baby doll?” Sy’s voice pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. You look up into his eyes, before looking over his shoulder to August’s concerned gaze. You hate the pity you see in both of their eyes, hate knowing they are looking at you in such a vulnerable state.

“Do you want us to help you, Kitten?” August asks. You don’t know what you want. You want them there for comfort, as that’s what partners are for. You want the floor to open you up and swallow you whole. You want to forget that Mikey even exists and that you ever met him. You don’t know…..

August must see it on your face because he moves to the tub and takes the plug out to let the water drain. He then swiftly moves to the shower and turns it on as hot as you can stand it. Sy slowly starts to ease your shirt up and over your head, before moving to your jeans. You know there is nothing sexual motivating his actions, but you can’t help but bring your arms up to cover yourself. Sy squats down to his knees to help you take off your pants, and August moves to leave a kiss on your forehead before pulling out his phone and walking out of the room.

Sy moves you bodily to the shower, helping you slip in before telling you he’ll be in the other room when you get out.. You see him set out a towel and fresh clothes from Walter’s closet before leaving the bathroom. The sound of the door clicking shut resonates in the silent room. The only noise being the shower water hitting the tiled floor and your quiet sobbing. You slide to sit on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest and burying your head.

You felt ridiculous. Part of the reason you had been so hesitant to even consider adding Mikey to your little group was his history with women. All four men were open about how he treated his flings when he was done with them. You were also concerned about his age. You didn’t normally go for guys around your age, and especially younger. Three years wasn’t much of a gap physically, but maturity wise had been a big red flag to you.

Eventually you had cried yourself dry and the water had turned cold. You stood up, shutting off the water. You hadn’t even had the shower door fully open before Walter burst in the bathroom. You wanted to cover yourself, but he didn’t give you the chance. Before you could blink, he had you wrapped in his big arms, the wool of his sweater scratching against your bare skin. He sways you back and forth and you’re bombarded with the memory of him telling you this is how he used to get Faye to sleep when she was a baby.

“I’m so sorry, baby. August called me and I rushed right over.” he slowly releases you when he remembers you’re fully naked. He moves back to the toilet where he gets the towel and wraps it around you. You want to argue that you can dry and dress yourself, but the energy just doesn’t seem to be there. Once he’s satisfied that you've dried off enough, he pulls one of his softer sweaters over your head, lifting your arms and slotting them into the sleeves. He kneels with a pair of boxers in hand, lifting each foot and sliding the shorts up your legs. He makes a show of bringing them up over your ass, and you give him a small smile. All three of these beautiful men, trying to make you feel better. How did you get so lucky?

When Walter is happy that you are finally ready for bed, he scoops you up by the thighs and carried you into the bedroom. You see Sy already laying in bed, shirtless but wearing pajama bottoms. You hear August in the kitchen, assuming he’s putting away the snacks he had planned for your nightly routine. Walter lays you in the middle of the California King sized bed, right next to Sy, before moving to the closet to change into pajamas while Sy turns and snuggles into your side, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and ribs.

“I know this probably won’t mean much, but he doesn’t deserve you, Sugar.” Sy mumbles into your chest. Even now, you can’t help but find amusement in his obsession with your tits. His favorite pillows, he once said.

“Thanks, Sy.” you mumble. You feel the bed dip beside you, turning to find Walter getting in on your right side. He’s also shirtless only wearing pajama bottoms, and the fuzz on his chest is thicker than the others.

“He’s right, Love. You are an incredible woman, and it’s Michael’s loss if he can’t see that.” his voice rumbles through your whole body. They’re both so warm, so soft. You internally chuckle at the contradiction. All four of them had godlike bodies, firm muscles and virile masculine strength. You lose your amusement as you think of Mikey again.

You look up as August walks in, dressed just as the other two. You were prepared for the nightly argument of who was going to cuddle with you and how. When it came to sex, these men worked together like a well oiled machine, each one moving perfectly in sync with the other to bring you the highest heights of pleasure. But when it came to cuddles, they fought over you like children with a teddy bear. But none of that happened. With Sy on his side to your left, Walter on his side to your right, and you on your back in the middle, August made his way between your legs and laid right on top of you. His torso was half on top of you, with his head on your sternum right below your breasts, half on the bed between your thighs, and the rest of his body between your spread calves.

“I feel like I’m in a puppy pile,” you mutter, causing all three men to chuckle. They quiet quickly though, all three concluding you’re trying to hide your pain through humor. Three sets of arms squeeze you tightly, and you soak up the love radiating from the three beautiful souls surrounding you. Maybe this heartbreak will be easier to get over when you have three other boyfriends to take care of you. Soon, the snoring coming from Sy, the soothing hand August has rubbing your thigh, and Walter playing with your hair, on top of all of the crying you’ve done, lulls you into a deep sleep.

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

When you wake up, the sun is shining through the windows. You’re used to the sun being high in the sky when you wake up, but never have you woken up with one of the guys, aside from Mikey, still in bed with you. Sy was never one to sleep much, years of military training now just ingrained into who he is as a human being. August was usually at the gym, and Walter would be on a case. So it shocked you to still have Walter by your side. You look up to his face and find he is watching you. You should have figured he wouldn’t have been asleep.

“How long have you been up?” you ask, voice hoarse from sleep. Your throat hurt from crying so much last night, and your head was throbbing. Despite having slept deeply for a decent amount of time, you were still exhausted. Your eyes burned and your body felt heavy.

“A few hours. I was up for a bit, but I didn’t want you to wake up alone.” he whispers. You always wondered how he always knew what you needed, even if it was something as small as keeping his voice low because your head hurts, when you didn’t even tell him.

“Thanks, babe. Where’s the other two?” you look around. You can hear someone working around in the kitchen. The smells of bacon and eggs finally hits your senses and your stomach grumbles. You silently wished Walter hadn’t heard. Out of the four, well now three, he was the most anal about making sure you ate enough and stayed hydrated. You look up and there it is, the pointed look he gives you everytime.

“Love, did you eat last night?” You look down in shame. You had a horrible habit of getting so caught up at work you forget to order food from the kitchen before it closes.

“You see, what had happened was..” you start. Walter rolls his eyes and huffs, beginning to roll away from you. You pull him back in protest.

“Listen to me! I didn’t have the chance to eat because I had to get the bar put together because Katie had to leave early and then we got slammed and Sheri couldn’t keep up with her tables so they kept coming up to the bar and then we just, didn’t slow down until after close, so Sy and I were going to go get something to eat and then….” you trail off, your brain bringing up the awful memory of what your….. You’re not even sure what to call Mikey. Walter notices where your mind seems to go and quickly put his hand under your chin and raises your eyes to his.

“Sy is making breakfast,” he starts.

“Fuck yeah,” you mumble. Sy was the best cook in the entire group, and his breakfast was fire. Walter rolls his eyes at that.

“And August went to the gym. Grumbling something about still being pissed off.” That last bit of information didn’t surprise you at all. August was crazy, as you had seen one night when a customer had gotten too handsy and decided to fight Auggie when he tried to throw him out. You were not ashamed to admit it made you so horny that you jumped him in the car at the end of your shift. It may have also revealed just how toxic you could be at times to the entire group. None of them seemed to mind though.

Just then, Sy came into the bedroom, carrying a tray full of food. You see french toast and biscuits and gravy, eggs, bacon, ham, fruit. All of your favorite breakfast foods. God you love these men. Sy sees you eyeing the tray and raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“Well good morning to you too, Sugar. You sleep alright?” He kisses your forehead while balancing the tray in his hand. You soak up the affection, staring at him as he brings the tray to sit in your lap. You pick up a fork and dig in, almost inhaling the fruit and french toast, feeding bites to each man beside you. It was almost perfect, until you heard the front door open and Mikey’s voice rings through the house. Your hand tightens around your fork and Walter is quick enough to move the tray off your lap as Sy flies off the bed and out of the room. You both quickly follow him, knowing deep down you wouldn’t be able to keep Sy from kicking his ass.

You stand at the top of the stairs and watch as Sy barrels towards Mikey, shoving him against the wall and holding him up by the front of the shirt. Walter moves you to the side, coming to stand on the steps in front of you but not shielding you from watching what was happening. Mikey’s eyes go wide and his hands go up at his sides.

“Woah, woah, woah. Easy, big guy. Good morning to you, too.” It wasn’t unusual for Sy and Mikey to wrestle in the house. But the look on Sy’s face told Mikey this was anything but playful.

“How was your studying session, Mike?” Sy snarls. His voice sent shivers down your spine. You almost feel sorry for anyone who had to go against your Captain. It was joked once that he was a bull, once he sees red there’s no running from him.

“It was fine. What is your problem, man?’ Mike stutters. That just seems to piss Sy off even more because he removes one hand and pulls it back before punching Mike in the stomach. The younger man doubles over before Sy lifts him back into a standing position. Part of you wants to step in. Yes Mike hurt you, but you don’t usually condone physical violence unless absolutely necessary. But on the other hand, Karma is a bitch, and he’s had more than enough coming his way.

“Now, you wanna try that again?” Sy growls. Mikey looks up to you, and your heart breaks all over again. You see the moment it clicks in his head, and shame fills his eyes.

“Sweetcheeks…” he tries. Sy shakes him hard.

“You don’t get to speak to her. You’re lucky August isn’t here because he wouldn’t be as easy on you as I am right now. I thought we had a clear understanding on what this relationship meant to her, and now you’ve set all of us back. She’s going to shut herself off and we’ll have to work double to get her trust back. Fucking idiot.” Sy pushes him harder into the wall before dropping him not so gently to the floor. You move past Walter and make your way down the stairs. You put a hand on Sy’s shoulder and he looks at you. You can hear his thoughts as loud as if he said them out loud; ‘you don’t have to do this’.

Mikey stands up and looks at you, flashing his puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. Normally it would melt your heart, but right now it just turns it to stone. You wonder how you would be responding if you didn’t have the strength of the two men behind you.

“Taking summer classes, huh? Does the name MaKenna ring a bell?” you seethe. You had once confided in how insecure she made you feel. She was your height but very petite. You had noted how her breasts were the perfect size that they just stayed perky, making you self-conscious of your larger chest that hangs low. Not that you didn’t love your body, but loving yourself is a long, bumpy road.

“Babycakes,” Mikey tries again.

“What did Sy say? You don’t have the privilege of speaking to me. Ya know, Mikey, it took a lot of convincing from your cousins to even get me to consider giving you a chance, based off your history with women. I knew from the get go this was going to end badly but I had that littlest bit of hope that I was wrong. I can’t even stand looking at you right now.” you say, turning away from him. You move but before you get too far, he reaches out and grabs your arm. You spin quickly, and before anyone can blink you slap him. Hard as fuck. Your palm stings and his face immediately turns red. You turn and run before he can see you start to cry.

“Great contact, Sugar.” Sy mumbles as you rush past him, giving Mikey one last hard look before following you upstairs. Walter, who had been silent during this entire altercation, finally looked at Mike.

“I’m not going to discuss any of this with you, right now. I’m more disappointed than angry,” he starts. Mikey rolls his eyes.

“No offense, Walt, but I don’t need the dad lecture at the moment,” he says sarcastically. That’s what finally set the normally stoic detective off.

“Obviously you do! Maybe if that piece of shit father of yours would have stuck around you would have turned out better.” That fucking stung. Mikey had taken some time to open up about his dad bailing on him and his mom. He blamed himself for a long time, something you strived to help him heal.

“But he didn’t, so now it is up to myself and the other two to teach you something about being a man. I understand that before her you made no commitments to the women you took to your bed. But when you actually make a promise to someone you don’t break it like that. I’m going to ask you once to leave. Take a few days at a friend’s while we discuss how we want to proceed from here.”

Mikey went to protest but the look on Walter’s face killed the argument before it could leave his mouth. He knew he fucked up, and he hears his mother’s voice in his head telling him to face the consequences of his decisions.

“Can I at least grab some stuff before I go?” he mumbles. Walter nods but says nothing else. He watches as Mikey gathers some things before moving towards the front door. He pauses before opening the door, turning back to the older man.

“I’m sorry, Walt.”

Walter shakes his head. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. We all have some talking to do, but for right now let the dust settle. She needs to heal some from this. And before you start accusing me of choosing a woman over family, remember that you are the one in the wrong in this scenario.”

And with that Walter went upstairs, leaving Mike to walk out of the house with his tail between his legs. Just as he was getting to his car, August pulls up beside him. Mike barely has his door open before August is on him, throwing him up against his car.

“I should beat the fuck out of you right now.” he hisses. If Mike thought Sy was scary, August was terrifying. He remembered one night when they all had had way too much to drink and August went to a really dark place mentally, giving a recount of just how many people he had killed during his time working for the CIA. Mike knew just how skilled August was in the arts of torture, and the thought alone of what he could do to him almost made him piss himself.

“Listen, Sy has already given it to me and she left this beautiful hand print on my face, so give me a break, okay? You can come at me later when Walter lets me back in the house,” he grumbles. August locks in on that last bit of information.

“Walter kicked you out?”

“He said it’s just for a few days.” August nods.

“Well whatever you do, do NOT go back to that little bitch’s house. Find a GUY friend to stay with. And call your mother, before one of us does.”

Mikey should have known that was coming. All three of the older men were fiercely loyal to his mother, and never missed an opportunity to let her know when he did something stupid. But this was probably the worst thing he could’ve told her. He sighs and gets in his car, thinking of who he could call that would let him stay a few days.

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

August makes his way to the bedroom immediately upon walking into the house. He didn’t want to leave you this morning but he was still so pissed by what happened early this morning he knew it would do no one any good if he didn’t get it out of his system. So he went to the gym where he almost destroyed a punching bag and scared some staff members. One of his training buddies had finally had enough of him abusing the gym equipment and said something.

“Now what did the bag ever do to you?” Geralt asks. The man was taller than August with more muscle, but he had a more even temperament. August puts his hands down and huffs.

“I’m picturing Mikey’s face.” he growls. Geralt just raises a brow. August had talked about his little cousin and the relationship he had with the bartender. He’d been to the bar and wasn’t hesitant to admit he could understand the attraction. You were a beautiful woman, fiery and bubbly simultaneously. It was adorable.

“What did the little idiot do this time?” Geralt had come to calling him that after he had drunkenly picked up a rabid raccoon out of the dumpster and it bit him.

“He hooked up with MaKenna.” August says. Geralt pauses to rack his brain.

“The little redhead that worked there before she was fired for having sex in the parking lot during her shift?”

“That’s why they fired her?” August spins to face the larger man. You had said she was fired for employee misconduct and insubordination, but you never gave the specifics. “You know what, I’m not surprised.”

“That’s what I heard from the owner at a house party a week after that, I think. Doesn’t matter. How did you guys find out?”

“The stupid shit sent her a video of them fucking to her, in the same bath tub in the cabin Sy took her to last weekend.” August shakes his head. Little shit couldn’t have even been original.

“And he’s still breathing?” Geralt looks surprised.

“For now. But when I see him….” August’s hands curl into fists at his side and he almost starts shaking. Geralt gives a hum and then pats his back, turning to leave his friend to stew in his feelings and planning a nice phone call to the beautiful bartender with a broken heart at home.

Shaking the memory from his mind, August opens the bedroom door to see you curled into Sy’s chest, shoulders shaking but no noise coming from you. Only the vision of the bright hand print on Mikey’s face calms his rising anger. He hears Walter in the bathroom and the shower turning on. Sy finally notices him and makes eye contact. It was almost a telepathic conversation between the two men: our baby needs us.

August turns to his left as Walter walks in, steam following him from the running shower. Sy nudges you up with murmurs of needing to calm down. You grudgingly obey, make eye contact with August before quickly looking away and following them to the shower. August takes this chance to change the sheets, rolling his eyes when he sees the crumbs on the comforter. He’d told them time and again not to let you eat in bed, but they never listen. He’ll let it slide this time, given current circumstances.

After fixing the bed and taking the breakfast down to the kitchen, he starts on the dishes. You had expressed only once that it was your least favorite chore, and he had taken it upon himself to be the designated dishwasher of your group. Despite the shower running upstairs, the water was still scalding and he thanked Walter once again for finally caving and buying a new hot water heater and for Sy saving them money by installing it himself. The burning pain from the water distracted him from the heartbreak he felt coming from you. You always joked you had a radiating energy that affected those around you, but he didn’t think it was a joke.

When he first saw you, you shined so brightly you almost glowed. Your smile was like a beaming ray of sunlight, sending warmth straight through his heart. At first he thought he was dying, that you were an angel of some sort that had shown up to take him to his after life. But one look at Sy and Walter and he knew he wasn’t alone. Bringing you into their lives was like having eternal summer. And now Mikey had gone and shut your light off. He was lucky he was kicked out.

As soon as everything was dried and put away, August made his way upstairs where Sy was carrying you out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Walter followed behind with a brush and some lotion in hand. They met eyes for a moment before moving to sit beside you and Sy on the bed. Sy had you his lap sideways, rocking back and forth while you controlled your breathing. He let you cry in the shower until your breathing turned ragged and he recognized the onset of a panic attack setting in. Walter starts brushing your hair while August takes the lotion and starts rubbing your feet. Soon your breathing evens out and the sniffling quiets.

All three men watch you and you make eye contact with August. He gives you a small smile and brings your ankle up to his mouth for a kiss. His mustache tickles your skin and you pull it back with a small shriek. This causes all three men to chuckle.

“Are you okay, Kitten?” August mumbles. Walter and Sy turn to you pointedly. You hadn’t said anything to them since you ran away from Mikey. They knew you weren’t okay, but they needed you to open up to them so they could help.

“Not really.” you whisper. Your hand still stings from slapping Mikey, but even more so your chest hurts. It feels irrational to you. You have three gods in front of you, ready and willing to worship you, and you’re heartbroken over someone you knew was going to hurt you from the beginning. “I think I’m more pissed than anything. What if this ruins what we have? I don’t want to be here around him but that means I won’t be able to be with you guys as much.”

Sy burst out laughing. You look at him offended, only to catch the amusement on August’s face as well. You turn around to look at Walter and find him chuckling.

“What the fuck is so funny?” you almost yell. August rubs his hand along your naked thigh, bringing your attention down to him.

“Kitten, if you think we’re going to let that little twerp ruin one of the best things to happen to us, you must not hold us in too high of a regard.” he looks at you pointedly.

“Yeah, Sugar. You got me fucked up if you think I’m going to throw you away because of this. If anything, it’s Mikey that’s going in the trash.” Sy says with a smirk. You look at him tentatively, and he gives you his wink/blink. You give him a smile when you feel Walter kiss the top of your head. You look up to make eye contact with your furry lover.

“Besides, I kicked Mikey out,” he says. You immediately sit upright in Sy’s lap, scrambling to stand and look at Walter full on. You bring your hands to your hips, causing the towel to fall and you rush to catch it.

“What do you mean you kicked him out? Don’t cause issues with your family because of me, Walter, that’s crazy.” He just smiles at you. It isn’t fair how pretty he is, how pretty all three of them are. You shouldn’t be jealous because your boyfriends have prettier eyelashes than you do. He reaches for you, bringing you between his legs, spreading them wide to make room for your thick thighs.

“It’s only for a few days, Love. Give him some time to think about what he did and for all of us to cool down.”

“No promises on that last one,” August grumbles. Sy gives a hum of agreement.

“Regardless,” Walter starts, giving a pointed look to the other two men, “even if Michael is here, you still have every right to be in this house. Or we can start spending more time at your place. We can work around this, love.” He grabs your hands in his and brings you close to him. “We love you, Y/N.” he whispers. Tears start to fill your eyes.

“Yeah, Sugar. Sure, your apartment is small and crowded, and you have all those pretty rocks I’m too scared to touch,” Sy starts in, making you giggle.

“They’re called crystals, Sy.” you mumble.

“Whatever, they’re part of your little witchy shit and sets me on edge. But I wouldn’t be anywhere else, cause I love ya.”

“Aww you guys,” you say as the tears really start to flow. You look to August, waiting for him to take his turn to confess his feelings. He just rolls his eyes.

“All this sappy shit. Yes, I love you. This is probably the only time you’ll hear me say it out loud, so soak it up while you can,” he grumbles. You bend down and give him a kiss on his pouting lips.

“I love you, too.” you whisper as you move away from him.

“All of you. I didn’t want to get too close at the beginning because I didn’t want to have to choose between you three, but thank god you suggested this. I know I’m going to be a little down in the coming time, but I appreciate each of you and everything you do for me as a team and as individuals. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.”

All three men wrap their arms around you like some kind of awkward python of arms and hair. You run one hand through Walter’s hair and the other down August’s back. Sy buries his face in your chest, and you send thanks to the divine universe for the beautiful men it has sent you.

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

Mikey pulls up to his friend Evan’s house, aware of the gloom cloud hanging above his head. He’d called him as soon as he pulled out of the driveway at Walter’s, giving as little details as possible as to why he needed a place to crash. Evan was a great friend, but he didn’t need any more judgment today. He was already dreading calling his mother. How was he going to explain to her that he cheated on his girlfriend that he was sharing with his three older cousins? Up until today he wasn’t even sure it WAS cheating. I mean, you had the other three, why couldn’t he fuck other people too?

But then a memory arises in his mind. It had only been a couple months since you had met him and the other three men, and you were freaking out in the cooler at work. It had taken him five minutes to get you calmed enough to tell him what had you in such a state. When you finally confessed that you had caught feelings for him and his cousins, and that you didn’t want to choose between them, he had the best idea. That night he mentioned a poly relationship to August and Sy, unknowing of his cousin’s history of sharing women. When he pitched the idea to Walter, the detective was reluctant. But it took one look at your face when they presented the idea to you to convince the bear to cave.

What Mikey wasn’t prepared for was the jealousy he would feel sometimes. It seemed some days that you treated him like he was still a kid, and the nickname Baby Face only made it worse. The way you talked to the older three like they hung the moon, and the way you let them dominate you. It emasculated him, you never let him top you. When he saw MaKenna at a party one night, and she started flirting with him, he felt good. She talked to him like he knew what he was doing, stroking his ego and he felt on top of the world.

Looking back now, he knows he fucked up. He wished he could blame the alcohol, but he knew deep down that wasn’t an excuse.When you agreed to the poly proposal, you had sat everyone down for a deep discussion on the rules of the relationship and how to operate the slippery slope of romance. You had pressed the seriousness of open communication. If anyone was having any issues, it needed to be talked over and worked out. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he was feeling. And now he may have lost you forever.

He looks up from his steering wheel when he hears a tap on his window. Evan stands there, waving a hand to get his attention. He exits the car, avoiding Evan’s questioning gaze as he gathered his things and followed his friend into the house. He sets his bag on the couch, a deep sigh leaving his chest. He hears Evan say something but didn’t pay attention to his words. He sat down and reached into his bag for his computer when he noticed he had packed one of your shirts that must have gotten mixed in with his laundry somehow. He brings it up to his face and takes a whiff. It still smells like you even after going through the wash and he’s surprised to feel the tears burn his eyes.

That’s how Evan finds him when he walks back in from the kitchen with two beers in hand. Mikey wasn’t one to show much emotion outside of excitement and horniness, so to see him crying really threw his friend for a loop.

“Hey, man, you okay?” he sets the two bottles on the coffee table and moves to sit beside Mike. As an EMT he’s used to having to de-escalate a situation, but this was different somehow.

“I cheated on Y/N,” Mike gets out once he calms down. Evan raises his brows in surprise. He couldn’t lie and say he was shocked. He knew exactly the kind of guy Mike was and exactly the woman you were. He told Mike once that he thought he was too immature for someone like you. You were a grown ass woman, not the little girls Mikey liked to play around with. You had your shit together, a good job and your own place, paid your own bills and never really asked for nor needed help. He had expressed his concerns when Mike had told him you accepted his offer to be shared with his cousins. But alas, Mikey didn’t listen. It took all the willpower Evan had in him not to say ‘I told you so’.

“With who?” he whispered. Getting loud and angry would do his friend no good right now.

“That MaKenna chick, the one you met at the party that one time.” Evan racked his brain, shifting through faces and names. Mike had introduced him to plenty of chicks over the last two years of their friendship.

“Is she the little redhead that worked at the bar with Y/N? The one who got fired for fucking a customer on the clock?”

“Is that why they fired her?” Mikey looked up.

“Yeah, man. My brother was there that night, said she ran out of the bar screaming and cussing everyone out. She may have also been drinking on the job.” Fuck, he had alot of apologizing to do.

“Look, I’m your friend, and as your friend it’s my responsibility to tell you when you fucked up. And I love you, bro, but you’re fucking stupid. What was going through your head, man?”

Mike wanted to be offended, but somewhere deep inside he was glad to have a friend who called him out on his shit.

“I don’t know, man. We were at this party and I was drinking and Y/N has been so busy with work and caught up in the other guys that it just felt like I didn’t exist anymore, ya know? And then when we do have sex, she’s always in control. It made me feel….” he trailed off. Evan nods his head, encouraging him to continue.

“I just felt like she saw me as some little kid she could play with, and never took me as seriously as she did them. I wasn’t a man in her eyes. And then MaKenna showed up and I just didn’t think. Now I may have lost her for some community pussy.”

Evan laughed at the last sentence, fully aware the same could be said of Mikey.

“Listen. You stay here for a few days, let her calm down, and figure out your own shit while you’re at it. And maybe get some ice for your face cause brother, she left her mark.” Mikey reaches up and touches his still stinging cheek.

“Leave it, let it be my reminder that I’m an idiot.”

“If you say so, man. But it’s turning purple so better go find some make up at the drug store before people start asking if you’ve been abused.”

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

The next few days flew by in a blur. You’d had picked up extra shifts just to keep your mind focused on work and not Mikey. The three older men never really let you have a moment to yourself. If you were at work, they were sat at the very end of the bar. If you were at home, you had at least one wrapped around you and another lurking somewhere in the house. You didn’t mind, really. You had done enough crying over Mike. You, however, didn’t let them see the anxiety eating at you as the days drew closer to Mikey coming back to the house. Walter had tried to reassure you that everything would be fine, but you knew it would be so awkward. Sy had offered to move in with you, to which August protested that there wouldn’t be enough room because he’d be damned if he wasn’t moving in too. You let them bicker for an hour before shutting down the idea in general.

Sy had made sure August had taken you out for the day when Mikey had finally come back to the house. He didn’t deserve to even be in your presence. When the younger man walked through the door, Sy had given him a dirty look before going into the kitchen to start on a dinner he had been dying to have you try. Mike just nodded his head in acceptance before moving to lock himself in his bedroom. He was in there for an hour before he heard your laugh coming in through the front door. He had to physically restrain himself from running out to greet you, instead putting on his noise cancelling headphones and closed his eyes, praying for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

It went on like this for weeks. If he happened to run into you around the house, you would avoid looking at him and run to another room, usually followed by Sy or August. Walter had picked up a new case and had barely been home. If Mike went to the bar with the guys, you would have the other bartender serve him.

Watching Sy and August love up on you was torture. It was like they were being extra affectionate just to tease him, looking right in his eyes when giving you a deep kiss or long hug. The worst was when he would hear you three at night, his room being right under the bed. Your cries of pleasure haunting him in his dreams.

It was getting towards the end of September, the weather was starting to get chilly and his classes were kicking his ass. He had resorted to moving in with Evan just so he could sleep. Walter had finally convinced you to move in, despite the tension between you and Mike. It hadn’t been an easy fight.

“Walt, baby, I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I still can’t even talk to him, living here is just going to make it worse.” you protest. It was on a rare night that he had come home from work and all three men had taken their turn ravishing you to exhaustion. You lay naked on your back in the middle of the bed, Sy half asleep with his face on your chest, August getting water and snacks in the kitchen, and Walter standing in the doorway to the bathroom towel drying his hair.

“But your lease is coming up, baby, and they’re going to raise your rent. What are you going to do, if you can’t renew it and can’t afford it?” Sy whispers against your breast.

“I can find another apartment, Sy.”

“Besides, Mike moved in with his friend, Evan.” If it wasn’t for Sy’s heavy body keeping yours pinned to the bed, you would have sat straight up.

“When?” you ask.

“A couple days ago. Said he couldn’t stand being in this house anymore, he couldn’t sleep.”

You both turn when you hear August coming up the stairs with his arms full. You took note of your favorite cookies and some waters. He takes one to Walter, before moving to sit on your other side and feeding you a bite of cookie.

“I just hope this doesn’t cause any problems with you guys and his mom…” you trail off. Walter had told you about Liza’s phone call when Mike told her what happened. You knew your boys probably got an earful, but eventually she came to understand her son was the one in the wrong. That still didn’t save them from the scolding over the idiocracy of their poly relationship.

They didn’t care though. It wasn’t her relationship, therefore her opinion didn’t matter.

“Liza will get over it. You, my dear, are OUR priority. Mikey moved out of his own freewill and you need a place to live. You can have Mikey’s old room, if you’re worried about losing a space to call your own.” Tears come to your eyes. God, you love them so much.

“Yeah, you can put all your witchy shit in there,” Sy says. All of you just laugh and carry on with your night.

August and Sy had helped you pack your apartment and, with a little help from Geralt, who had recently started spending time with your little group, had moved you in with your polycule. You sold most of your furniture aside from your dressers and mattress. Walter had even set up a space around the house for your cat, happy to have a free mouse catcher for when the rodents invaded during the snowy months. Everything was going great, you had your boys, work was banging so you had some extra cash in your pocket. Soon the sting from Mikey’s betrayal ebbed away to a dull throb.

It was mid-October when shit really hit the fan. The band at work was super popular around the local community and everyone was getting lit. Your boss had given you the night off per your request, but you just couldn’t seem to stay away from work, even off the clock. You had dressed up extra nice tonight, donning an outfit that showed off all your goodies. Sy and August had been to the barber a few days before and looked so yummy. Walter had opted to take the night and spend time with Faye during her time off for fall break. You had invited Geralt but he said the loud noises would mess with his sensitive ears.

After grabbing drinks and saying hi to your friends in the band, you take a seat at a table with the guys, talking to some regulars and friends. The night was going great, for at least an hour. Until Mikey walked in. Just seeing him pissed you off again. You made eye contact for just a split second before turning away, giving him the cold shoulder. Nothing gets past your two soldiers though, and both men clock onto their younger cousin making his way through the crowd. Sy slings one arm around your shoulders and August moves to block you into the booth, stuck between the two beefcakes. You keep your face forward, your focus solely on the band.

‘Fuck she looks good’ Mikey thinks. You had put on his favorite teddy, tits pushed almost to your chin, tucked into a pair of jeans so tight they might as well have been painted on. Your hair was curled and wild, and your make up was done in his favorite style. He missed the nights of watching the mascara run down your face from choking on his….. He shakes his head, starting to regret coming out tonight. One of your coworkers had told him you had taken the night off, and he was in the mood to drink himself stupid. He hadn’t spent a night sober since he moved out. He can’t even self pleasure any more, the guilt killing his sex drive. He refused to look at women. Not when the one he wanted was so close yet so far away. He tries ignoring the glares being sent to him from Sy and August. They hadn’t forgiven him for his mistake. To be honest, he hadn’t exactly forgiven himself.

When the band goes on break, you extract yourself from your loving bodyguards to go to the restroom. Locking yourself in the large stall, you turn your back to lean against the wall, taking a deep breath, before doing your thing and leaving the bathroom. You sneak out the door to the back patio quickly, before Sy or August can see you. You loved them deeply, but the past couple weeks they have been a tad overbearing. You move past all the smokers and into the back parking lot, taking in the cold air, letting it freeze/burn your lungs.

The healing you had done the past few weeks seemed to fly out the window at seeing him again. You missed him. You hated it, but you missed him so much. The stupid faces he would make when you were in a bad mood. The puppy dog eyes he would give you when asking for a bite of your food. The way he vigorously rubbed his face in your chest when he was tired and acting like a toddler. The memories cause tears to sting your eyes, and you put your fingers under your eyes to keep your makeup from running.

A cough from behind brings you back to the present, turning to find Mikey standing behind you. He had his head down, rubbing the back of his neck and scuffing his foot on the ground. It pleased and pained you to see him looking so rough. He was always pale, but his skin was almost gray. His hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in days and his clothes were rumpled. He looked like shit, and you loved it and hated it in a strange emotional paradox.

“Hey,” you whisper, and your heart breaks all over again. The circles under his eyes wouldn’t have been covered by the best concealer in the world. You just want to pull him into you and love every ounce of pain out of his eyes. But he broke your trust and you have to stand your ground.

“Hi,” he whispers back. It’s tense for a moment, and you’re wishing you would have snuck your pack of smokes into your purse without August seeing. All of them knew you had your vices, but August was adamant about breaking this specific bad habit. As if reading your mind, Mikey hands you a cigarette, and you take it with a quiet ‘thank you’. He lights it for you, and you both look each other in the eye before turning away again.

“Mikey-”

“I-”

You both speak at the same time, before smiling softly at each other. You motion for him to start first, anxious to hear what he has to say.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and I really hurt you. Nothing can excuse what I did, but if it’s any consolation, I feel like shit,” he clears his throat, and avoids eye contact with you.

“You look like shit,” you huff. He throws his head back and barks a laugh. His shoulders shake and you know it’s not because he finds anything funny.

“Thank you, Sweetcheeks.” You smile at his nickname.

“Seriously, Mikey, are you okay? You look like you haven’t seen the sun in weeks.”

“No, babes, to be honest I’m not. I can’t sleep without drinking half a bottle a night, I don’t think I’ve had a solid meal in two weeks, and my sex drive is completely gone. Hell, I can’t even masturbate!” The more he talks, the more manic he sounds until he shouts that last sentence, drawing the eyes of some customers walking by. You slap your hand to your face to hide from embarrassment.

“Sorry. But yeah, I’m not okay. But I brought this on to myself,” he mumbles. You would disagree, but you can’t. He made his decision, now he can lay in the bed he made.

“You look great, though. They must be taking good care of you,” he says almost bitterly.

“Yes, they are. I’m actually using your old room as an art studio.”

“Wow. That’s great.” You just nod your head. And then it really processes in your head, and you can’t help the petty happiness that fills you at the thought of him not being able to get it up. Your face must give away how you’re feeling.

“What?” Mikey asks.

“Would it be shitty of me to say it pleases me immensely that your dick isn’t working right now?” Now Mikey really laughs, from deep in his belly and full of mirth. You start laughing with him, and when you make eye contact, it only seems to amuse you further. Soon you both are wiping tears and holding your stomachs.

“No, babe, I wouldn’t fault you at all for taking pleasure in my pain. Matter of fact, if my suffering makes you happy, I will do it gladly.” You roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but damn it if that wasn’t what made you fall in love with him to begin with.

“I can admit I miss you, too, Mikey. But don’t think that this simple conversation is going to make everything magically better. You have a lot of trust to build back up, and not just with me.” You warn him. His eyes light up, and like a trick of the shadows around you, his skin almost seemed to glow back to life.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Sweetcheeks. I promise, I won’t so much as LOOK at another woman. You won’t regret this.” His body jerks forward, arms open to hug you before he hesitates. You open your arms in acceptance, ready to move past this awkwardness and be with your Mikey again. After a long few minutes of just soaking in each other after weeks apart, you move back and wipe your eyes once more. A gust of wind blows around you and sends a shiver over your naked shoulders and back.

“Let’s get you inside, Sweetcheeks,” Mikey says, shrugging off his zip up jacket and throwing it over your shoulders. You both move to go back inside just as the door opens and August and Sy come barreling out. August glares at the cigarette still in your hand while Sy shoots a dirty look at Mike’s jacket around you.

“Uh oh, Mikey, we should probably put out the smokes. Here comes Captain Killjoy and Agent Sourpuss,” you giggle.

“Careful, Sweetcheeks, they’re likely to punish you,” he jokes back. Two sets of cerulean eyes study you and Mikey closely. August looks ready to murder the younger man, while Sy just looks confused.

“So what’s going on here?” the bull grumbles.

“Mike and I have had a conversation, and he has apologized,” you start slowly. You’re unsure just how well they will react to this news.

“So one little ‘I’m sorry’ and he’s just forgiven?” August seethes. You take a deep breath. You love your Scorpio man, but Lord did he test you.

“It’s not all magically fixed, no. We still need to have a very long talk, and it’s going to take a lot of work, but for right now, tonight, we are going to leave the past in the past, let go of any grudges,” you look pointedly to both men, “and go enjoy our friend Alex’s singing and eat some good food because you,” you turn to Mikey, “are skin and bones. Am I clear?”

You had used what you call your ‘mom voice’, leaving no room for argument. All three men follow you back into the bar, Mikey sitting by the wall and letting you lock him into the booth. Things were going well until SHE walked in. That redheaded little hussy. It was a good thing Sy listened to you when you told him to keep you away from the whiskey. The last thing you needed was to go to jail tonight. None of the guys seemed to have noticed, so you chose to ignore it.

At the next intermission, Mikey decided he’d take the opportunity to get another round for the table. You kept your eyes stuck to him the entire time, launching yourself from the booth when you see MaKenna walk up to Mikey. He glances at her before looking around the room nervously. Sy and August follow but stay a few feet away. You sidle up to Mikey and wrap an arm around his waist and using the other hand to bring his face down to yours and sealing a deep kiss to his lips. You open your mouth and make a show of mingling your tongue with Mike’s, letting this bitch know he’s yours. Mikey follows you as you pull away, whining low in his throat when you break the kiss. You then turn to the girl beside you.

“Oh, hi. I forgot you existed,” you say. She’s looking between you and Mikey, very confused.

“I didn’t know you and Mike were dating,” she says. You narrow your eyes at her, knowing she was lying. She knew damn well what she did.

“MaKenna was just trying to hook up with me again. I was just telling her no,” Mikey rushed to tell you. The last thing he needed after making up with you was you thinking he hadn’t changed. The only acknowledgement you give him is a hum and a nod.

“Yeah, after he fucked you he realized he needed a real woman. I’m surprised you even have the guts to show up here after being fired the way you were. You really must feel no shame,” the venom dripping from your tongue could kill a horse, but damn if it wasn’t sexy. Mikey was trying so hard to hide the tightening in his jeans.

“I don’t know what you mean,” the smaller female starts.

“Oh, please. You got caught fucking another woman’s man, again, on the clock. And when his girlfriend showed up to kick your ass, it caused drama that didn’t need to be started here at work. You think you would have learned from that, but apparently you have no sense of self-preservation. I suggest you start looking for something safe to do, because I won’t be as nice as the last girl. You got lucky a bouncer was able to convince her not to knock your teeth in, but the bouncers here love me and would highly encourage it. So find someone else to fuck with, before that butterface of yours gets permanently damaged.”

All three of your boys groan. Seeing you so riled up was so hot, and they knew hearing you threaten someone shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was. The girl in front of you flinches before walking away from you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose. You’re typically not a confrontational person, but it felt so good to put someone in their place. And to do it without laying a hand on her.

“That was hot as fuck,” Mikey says behind you. You chuckle, turning back to flash him a flirty smile before grabbing his hand and moving to go grab the other two. The lust you see in August’s eyes sets you aflame. Sy just looks giddy, like a child. He knows exactly what’s about to happen. After grabbing your things and saying your goodbyes, feeling smug as you watch MaKenna move around the bar to avoid you. You pay out your tabs, leaving generous tips for the bartender and leaving with promises to fill her in on all the dirty details later. Gossip makes the work shift go by faster and Monday night was gonna be a HOT, tea party.

You almost run to Sy’s truck, August following closely behind to his car parked in the next spot over. Sy barrels past his cousin and quickly grabs you, turning you around and grabbing your cheeks in both hands. He tilts your head back and stares deeply into your eyes.

“I hate every bitch that isn’t you, you absolute fucking goddess.” he rumbles. The absolute desire radiating from his bulky form affecting the other two men. You giggle almost manically as he kisses you sloppily. You can taste the Jack he’s been drinking all night. He smacks his lips when he pulls away, reaching down to slap your ass before turning and climbing into his Chevy. August chuckles at his cousin’s antics, turning and unlocking his car. Mikey opens the door to the truck for you, helping you in by pushing under your asscheeks. It’s almost like your lovers had an obsession or something.

August eyes the actions closely, still suspicious of his younger cousin’s motives. Mikey catches his eye and looks down to the ground. You notice and give August a pointed look that said ‘stop it’. He couldn’t help it. It was his job to protect you, even from emotional pain. You stare even harder until he softens his expression.

“August, do you mind giving Mike a ride back home with us?” you say so sweetly it almost rotted his teeth. He huffs at you and you give him the bedroom begging eyes. The same eyes you give him when……. God damn it. You really knew how to get under his skin. He rolls his eyes to try to hide just how much you affect him.

“Fine. See you back at the house.” Mike hesitated, but moved when you poked him in the ribs and motioned for him to get in the car before shutting yourself in the truck, kicking your feet up on the dash. The Chevy rumbles to life and Sy peels out, leaving a trail of smoke in the parking lot. August rolls his eyes at the unnecessary display of masculinity. ‘Dumb country boy’.

The ride is silent and awkward, Mike fidgeting with his hoodie strings and bouncing his legs. August kept his focus on the road, ignoring the anxiety vibrating off the younger man. Ten minutes felt like an eternity. When they pulled in the drive, Mike finally felt like he could breathe. Sy had just turned off the truck when August put the car in park. You hopped out of the driver’s side, hair sticking out sideways and your lipstick smudged. Sy follows, mouth and cheeks red from your make out session. August rolls his eyes.

“Impatient asshole.” Sy just shoots him a smug smile. You giggle and reach up to kiss your agent, knowing he was just grumpy cause Sy got to have you first. He hums in satisfaction as you pull away, picking you up and walking you into the house. You take note of Walter’s car parked in the garage and try to wiggle out of August’s arms to go greet your other lover. Mike follows hesitantly, hands deep in his pockets and dragging his feet on the ground. The past several times he’s been in this house hasn’t exactly been pleasant.

August finally relents and lets you down. As soon as your feet hit the floor you’re on your way up the stairs, almost tripping in your haste. A strong arm wraps around your waist to catch you, and you mumble a thank you without looking at who it is and continuing your way up to the detective. He’s laying in bed with a case file in his hand, one arm behind his head. His hair is wet and he’s only in boxers. He looks up when you come in through the door, eyes light and a flush in your cheeks.

“You’re home early, and it looks like you had a good time. You’ve been absolutely ravished” You climb onto the bed, the alcohol finally catching up to you.

“I did! Mikey apologized and came home with us. Sy is at fault for the ruined lipstick.” The detective raises his brows in surprise.

“That’s great, Love.” he says, getting distracted by the three men filing into the room behind you. He makes eye contact with the youngest man, giving him a nod in greeting. Mike nods back, at least Walter isn’t as intimidating as August.

“And then that bitch showed up at the bar, that’s why we came home early,” you growl. Walter looks confused before Sy happily clarifies. The detective thought it odd his cousin was so excited to relay the news that the girl who Mike had cheated on you with had shown up to ruin your night.

“She tried hooking up with me again. Sweetcheeks, I didn’t tell you about her flirting with me so you would threaten her.” Mike explains. Walter raises his brows further and looks at you pointedly. Sometimes you forget he’s actually a cop.

“I didn’t threaten her! I told her she needed to find something safe to do, that’s just giving good advice.” you grumble.

“And it was so sexy when she did it.” Sy exclaims. Well, that explains that. You flush at the praise, tingles running down your spine. Walter chances a look at August, and the memory of you, the deadly venom in your tone, as you threatened the smaller girl just fed the flames. The lust in the agent’s eyes and the giddiness from Sy sparks something in Walter as well. You quickly catch on to the energy change in the room, biting your lip and making eye contact with each man. Mikey is unsure, though. You had just forgiven him for sleeping with someone else. Would you even want him to touch you? You notice his hesitation, beckoning him forward with a crook of your finger. He knows that look, and he’s happy to let you be in charge again.

He kneels at the foot of the bed, hands laid flat on his thighs, head down in submission. You hum in satisfaction, crawling to get closer to him, ass in the air and hips swaying back and forth. You hear a chorus of groans ring around the room, but keep your focus on the boy in front of you.

“Poor Mikey. He confessed to me earlier that he’s been having trouble getting it up here lately, boys.”

“Serves him right,” August spits. You want to roll your eyes at the hostility, but know that would only lead to a paddling later.

“But he’s apologized, Auggie. It’s time to move past it, don’t you think he’s suffered enough?” It took Mike a moment to remember the dynamic at play here. You submitted to August, and he submitted to both of you. He could only imagine the hell he had coming in his near future.

“By the universe, sure. But I think you have been too lenient on him, Kitten.”

“Agreed.” That comes from Sy. You turn behind you to look at Walter, who gives his nod in agreement to the other two.

“So what do you suggest I do?” Sy shrugs.

“That’s up to you, Sugar. You’re in charge here.” You contemplate for a moment before an idea pops into your head. Mike gulps as he watches a sinister smile bloom across your lipstick smeared mouth. The deviant look in your eyes lets him know he’s in for a long night.

“Your punishment, Baby Face, is to look but not touch.”

Oh yeah, he’s well and truly fucked.

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

You flop back onto the bed, gasping for breath and covered in sweat. Sy groans beside you, just as sweaty and breathless. Walter leans his back against the headboard, and August and Mikey are curled together on your naked thighs. One solid hour of sex and passion had sobered you up. As the endorphin high slowly subsides, you move to get up, attempting to extract yourself from the pile of skin and hair and sweat.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Sy grumbles.

“I have to pee, let me up.” you grumble. August and Mike groan as they move off you, Walter giving you a hand to keep your balance as you stand on the mattress and maneuver your way off the bed and to the bathroom. You start the shower, not enjoying the sticky feeling of sweat and cum drying on your skin. Once deemed warm enough, you step under the spray and the let water wash over you.

You close your eyes and turn to wash your face. Now sober, and in a post-nut clarity state of mind, you think about Mikey and just how easily you gave into him tonight. The boys were right, you were too lenient. You said you needed to talk, but what would you say? You had already told him he hurt you, and that was still needing to be further discussed, but you also wanted to know why. You let out a deep sigh and run a hand down your face.

You flinch when you feel an arm wrap around you, turning to find Walter giving you a worried look. You give him a small smile, turning back into the water to finish scrubbing the make up from your face, before turning to grab your body wash. He stops you, grabbing the soap and your loofah before gently starting to wash your chest. You hum, closing your eyes and leaning back to let the water flow through your hair.

“What were you thinking about, Love?” Walter asks softly, causing you to open your eyes.

“Mikey, and the talk we all need to have.” you whisper. “Just don’t know how I want to go about it.”

“You want to talk it through with me? Help process your thoughts before going in blind?” you huff a laugh out of your nose, before nodding.

“I want to know why he did it, but at the same time, I’m scared to really find out.” He nods his head, putting his hands on your shoulders to turn you so he can start washing your back.

“I’m also confused on how to get over the hurt. The anxiety and that little voice whispering in my ear that he’s going to do it again.” You feel him hum as he starts to massage your shoulders, releasing the knots in your neck.

“Unfortunately, my dear, that little voice may never go away. But Michael put that voice there, and if he’s truly sorry and serious about being with you again, he will work very hard to chase that little voice away.” You nod, understanding what he’s saying, and you appreciate his wisdom, but it does little to ease the heaviness in your chest. Your thoughts are interrupted when Sy burst into the shower.

“Y’all are having a party in here and didn’t invite me?’ he says, fake offense on his bearded face. You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“It’s a shower therapy session, Captain. Just working through some thoughts and feelings.” He raises his eyebrows, not expecting that retort.

“Well, make room. I need to wash off.” he pushes into the small space. Walter grunts while you giggle, rinsing the last of the soap off and slipping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. You can hear the two men in the shower bickering but pay no mind as you make your way to the bedroom to steal one of Walter’s sweaters. You take note that the bedsheets have been removed and the other two men are no longer in the room.

After drying off and getting dressed in the sweater, some panties, and knee high socks to keep your legs warm, you move to go downstairs where you knew August would be putting together after care snacks. Walter and Sy are leaving the bathroom as you head to the bathroom door, stopping to give them both a kiss before leaving the room and going downstairs.

As you had predicted, August was in the kitchen, pajama bottoms hanging off his delectable hips, putting together sandwiches and juice. Sometimes you think he took the nickname “Daddy” too seriously. You look to your right to see Mike in the laundry room, pulling out clean bedsheets and a bigger comforter. This leaves you puzzled, Mikey never did chores. As if he can read your thoughts, he looks up and gives you a sheepish smile.

“Just trying to help out.” he mumbles. You just nod your head, your brain still trying to compute what it was seeing. You must have looked like a SIM, just standing there staring. You snap back into reality when August clears his throat, giving you a look of confusion.

“Yes, Daddy?’ you say. It was almost instinctual at this point to call him that at home. He just simply smirks, before grabbing your hand and moving you to sit at the kitchen island in front of a plate of food. You start to salivate at the sight of a sandwich and fruit. He puts a bottle of water beside the plate before kissing your forehead and moving to put together plates for everyone else.

You munch quietly on your fruit, mind going back to the conversation you’re going to have to have with your four boys. Walter and Sy were easy to talk to, giving you the space to freely and safely speak about how you feel. The strength that radiates from them giving you a sense of peace, leaving you unafraid of your feelings. You didn’t have to tell August what was on your mind. He had an uncanny ability to guess how you’re feeling most times. ‘You can’t control your face, Baby Girl.’

You lift your head up from your snack when you hear Walter and Sy come thundering down the stairs. Both are dressed just as August, leaving you in a sea of man titties and hair. This is the closest to Heaven you will ever get and you can die a happy woman secure in that knowledge. Immediately Sy goes to a plate of food, grumbling a thank you to August in between bites. Walter takes a plate and sits beside you on a stool. August and Sy are standing against it on the opposite side, and you see Mikey shuffle his feet to your other side.

“Guys, we need to talk.” you say. Walter doesn’t react, August and Sy just blink, but you feel Mikey tense up beside you. He knew it was coming still. He just didn’t think you would do it so quickly after what just happened upstairs. He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to say to the other guys. Hell, you didn’t know how to even begin. Now that you’re thinking about it, this probably should have been a one on one talk with Mikey.

“I know that things aren’t going to be the way it was before,” you start. You don’t have to clarify what you meant by before. Just that word alone is enough to drive a knife through Mikey’s heart. You didn’t look at him directly, but he knew you were talking to him. The three older men stay quiet, letting you get what you need to off your chest. August’s sharp attention to detail doesn’t fail to notice the sweat starting to bead on Mikey’s forehead. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you are about to ask.

“Why, Mikey?” your voice cracks, pushing your plate away and looking up at him with tears in your eyes. A lump formed in his throat and he didn’t know what to say for a minute. He didn’t know how to tell you it was because he felt like less of a man in your eyes compared to the other three. How could he tell you he was insecure and emotionally immature and he doesn’t want you to look at him with pity.

“I…” he voice cracks. You raise your brows, anticipating his answer.

“Was it something I did? Something I said?” you croak. This pisses Sy off.

“Don’t go blaming yourself, Darlin’. Mike made the decision to do what he did, no matter what you did or said to him,” he almost barks. You turn to him, seeing his face and chest starting to turn red with anger. You just nod, making eye contact with August who just gives a nod in agreement. You turn back to Mikey.

“He’s right. I could have just talked to you about what I was feeling.”

“What were you feeling?’ Walter asks. If he could get Mikey talking about it, the sooner it unburdens you.

“Emasculated, ignored,” he mumbles. “I just, you call me Baby Face, and it made me feel like you see me as a kid, not a man like these three,” he motions to the others.

“That’s because you are a kid,” Sy grumbles. You turn and give him a pointed look, telling him to shut the fuck up with your eyes.

“He’s right, Baby Cakes, I am. It took me moving out and doing some self-reflection, to realize I’m not yet a man. Hell, I can’t even grow facial hair yet!” You all chuckle, fully aware of just how virile it makes the other three look. “I just, felt like less of a man. But those weeks apart showed me how little I really know and just how much I still have to learn about being, not just a good man, but a good man for you.” You nod along, listening intently and understanding where he’s coming from.

“I wasn’t aware of just how jealous I was going to feel about sharing you. It was like everytime I wanted alone time with you, one of the others needed you more.”

“That’s understandable, but baby you have to tell me when you’re feeling neglected like that,” you say, reaching out to grab his hand in yours. You bring it up to your mouth for a kiss, before setting it back down on the counter.

“It’s not that hard, really. Pick one night a week when she can be all yours,” that comes from August, face stoic as ever. Mikey wanted to get an attitude, but remembered that he should be taking the advice.

“Or just tell us when you want some one on one time, we’ll give you a couple hours,” Sy says.

“And jealousy is normal, but you gotta talk to me, Mikey,” you say, bringing his attention back to you. “I’m sorry my nickname made you feel that way, I can find other nicknames to call you.”

“You can call me whatever you want, baby. I realized it doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.”

“But why her?” you ask. It was bad enough that he cheated, but with someone you had told him made you feel insecure.

“I don’t know. She showed up at a party one night, and some petty part of me wanted to make you feel the same way watching you with them made me feel. It was immature and wrong.” A part of you could understand that. You were young and immature once too, and you could go from pretty to petty with one letter.

“Do you understand what that did to her?” August says. He wants to yell, but the look on your face says he needs to be calm. Mike shakes his head. In all of his self-reflection, he considered he had hurt you but didn’t think to what extent.

“You almost killed her self-esteem. It took me two weeks just to get her to be comfortable with being naked, just with herself. She didn’t leave bed for anything other than work for a month. Hell, Geralt wasn’t able to touch her for a week because she couldn’t stop crying, and you know how he feels about emotions.” Sy says.

“Geralt is coming around?” Mike says.

“That’s not the point,” Walter chimes in.

“Right. Baby, I’m sorry,” Mikey starts. You just shake your head.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you were honest with me. Just, PLEASE, start talking to me about how you feel. Communication is the only way this is going to work,” you have to emphasize the last sentence heavily. He nods his head furiously. You open your arms for a hug, Mikey wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly.

“Though, I do have one request,” he trails off. You hum, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“Can I top you at least twice a week?”

You blink, before bursting out laughing, breaking the hug and leaning back onto Walter as your body shakes. You can feel him laughing behind you, and hear Sy chuckling. August rolls his eyes, typical Mikey.

“Anything you want, Baby Boy. I love you, thanking you for talking to me,” you say, leaning over and giving him a deep kiss. He kisses you back just as lovingly. He pulls back, gazing at you adoringly before turning to his older cousins.

“I’m sorry to you guys, too. I was the one who brought up this whole arrangement not knowing just what it would take to maintain it.”

August just nods, not having fully forgiven him for what he did to you, he couldn’t care less about a slight done to himself. Walter and Sy just mumble “it’s okay.”

“But I want to thank you, too. Thank you for cleaning up my mess and taking the best care of her. I really owe you guys,” he rubs the back of his neck, unsure how they would respond to that.

“Well, we took care of her because we love her, that’s what you do when you love someone, you take care of them,” Walter says. You smile at that, full of love for your big grump.

“And I plan on making it up to her every day.” he looks deep into your eyes, hoping to really drive home his promise. You smile and cup his face, thumb caressing his cheek. He turns and kisses your palm, before putting his hand over yours and lacing your fingers together. The tender moment is broken by your wide yawn. Sy claps his hands.

“Alright, Little Girl, bed time!” he moves around the island to pick you up, never letting you release Mikey’s hand. Sy carries you upstairs, your arm slung over his shoulder to keep your fingers locked with Mike’s. August starts cleaning the kitchen while Walter puts together the bedsheets Mike had dropped when you started your talk. Sy keeps you in his arms as Walter makes the bed, Mike just staring at you, so thankful for your graciousness.

As soon as the bed is finished, Sy lays you gently in the middle, letting Mike take his place by your side in the bed. Just as Walter was going to climb in with you, his phone rings. You groan, knowing a phone call this late can only mean he’s got another lead on his case. He gives you a quick kiss before moving to the closet and answering his phone. As predicted, he gets dressed in jeans and his sweater, pulling his boots on before giving you one more kiss and leaving the bedroom. You hear the door shut downstairs and send up a prayer to any deity that will listen to keep him safe.

You take the usual position, on your back so you can have one on each side and one on top of your chest. Mike is to your left and Sy decides he wants to be in between your legs tonight. August comes into the bedroom, turning off lights before climbing in to your right. Tucked in between three out of the four loves of your life, you drift into the best sleep you’ve had in weeks, surrounded by love and hair.

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

Taglist: @just-ten-cents @shellyshellshell @wa-ni @summersong69

#captain syverson x reader #reader insert #captain syverson #walter marshall x reader #mike (hellraiser)#henry cavill fanfic #august walker x reader #henry cavill #reverse harem #fan fiction

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nouearth · 9 months

Text

the remedy for guilt.

clark kent x male reader.

summary: guilt, pain, and shame consumes clark as his nightmares have been haunted by the memory of lois.

wc: 2.5k. genre: angst, comfort. warnings: cavill!clark, clark has ptsd, nightmares, topic and depictions of death, mentions of blood and wounds.

request.

thunder blared and cracked to the man’s startle, and immediately, the sky unlocked with a haze, ghastly as if stolen from humanity. spirits of hard rain quickly crashed onto metal gates, barriers that ward off trespassers, and came down harder onto carved stones. it sank into the heart of earth after.

it was an orthodox setting some have found comfort in after painful months of mourning. clark wondered how incredibly cathartic mother nature’s tears would feel on his skin once it was his turn.

he flinched when a droplet does—burned—and the wind heckled.

in loving memory of lois lane, it was carved beautiful like her handwriting. she was always in a rush, chasing after the biggest scandals with a notepad in her hand, yet the scribe flowed with impressive structure, prideful in every stroke of her pen. kneeling on one leg, without a care that mud had inked uncomfortably into his pants, clark caressed the engraving of lois’ name, gently as if it was skin—her skin, and the gale laughed—louder now.

“—got you these flowers,” clark bitterly chuckled, gently waved the wrapped bundle of cream and pink rosebuds that the wind was sure to have blown away by now if it weren’t for his clench on them. “figured these colors would be a nice change of pace, so…”

the thunder approved clark’s choice of flowers.

“i’ll get going soon, but i just wanted to see you one more time before—“ the gale blew stronger, lifted clark’s bangs and almost his glasses, but they soon found refuge in his breast pouch. there was a beat of silence as the wind sang, unusual in its whistles. “before i head back to—“

there it was again.

a gentle croak that harmonized with the wind.

someone’s hurt. struck by lighting, maybe? if being drenched in the rain hadn’t strung him back to reality, the eery sound of help definitely woken clark to his senses. he was vigilant, carefully scanning his surroundings with his x-ray vision.

nothing out of the ordinary—

“help,” a voice squeaked from somewhere, barely audible, but clark managed to filter the gust out. he spun in place when a whisper attacked one ear then the next. defensively, he lifted himself off the ground and scanned the gravesite from a higher viewer. alert, yet calm.

no one.

“please, speak up!” clark roamed in the air, inspected every corner. the wind and rain fogged his endeavor, but he was determined. it grew louder now after several patrols, and relief settled because he was getting closer.

“help me,” it whispered in the fog, and the haze grew thicker, heavier. “please, help me. i can’t breathe!” it cried out now, desperate because safety was near, yet so far away. “please, where are you?!” it pleaded.

“I’m coming, stay put!” clark shouted, and he flew down, a bewildered frown etched into his face when the mist barricaded his arrival, knocking him back. “what the—“

it was like touching an invisible shield when clark curiously reached out, pressing a palm into nothing. thick air swallowed his hand and he pulled back when another cry startled. “hurry, please! i-i think I’m going to—” it choked.

“i—“ clark ascended higher now, challenged by the mystical fog. he was absolutely clueless, puzzled, but was later comforted because force was always on his side.

“i’m here!” the clock ticked in his head. thunder and lightning shook the atmosphere of earth, and the rain hit clark’s skin like bullets as he rushed down the gravesite, punching through the several layers of air. one by one, they unfurled, and clark grunted as if it could boost his strength at the very last layer. “please! help! oh god, i—”

“you’re…” it was sheer, unveiling the field of gravestones, and he could see something moving, waving, but the rain blurred his vision. “you’re…” the voice weakened.

harder now, clark punched several more times with a battle cry louder than the previous, through gritted teeth enough to break bone, and the fog cowered at the very last second, thinning in wispy strides from his force. the swing from his arm pulled him to the source with incredible force. it was out of his control now, the wind yanked, then drove him to the ground, dragging clark across the muddy field. absolute black had entered his vision, and he could only breathe. breathe in mud, rain, grass, as he was pulled everywhere but nowhere, yet somehow closer to the source of those dreadful cries.

“you’re...”

the voice croaked over him as clark was grounded, blindly face-planted into the soils until he wasn’t. his head slowly lifted by an unspeakable force, and the cry continued to creak like nails on a chalkboard, unbearably closer to his face. a cold breath bit at his skin and as if the spell was broken, clark snapped his eyes opened.

it was horrid. it took every little breath clark had in him, and he tried to shut his eyes. he couldn’t. the spell hadn’t been broken. it was a mere glamor as clark’s eyes began to stung, brimmed with tears as he was bewitched to stare into the bloody corpse of his former lover. “you were,” the more it croaked, layers of skin cracked and peeled off. clark shuddered, his eyelids unwillingly pulled to the heavens as he watched lois’ broken skin unveil bloody wounds, then flesh, then bone, as she ascended higher before him, like a deity, until his head was thrown back.

“TOO LATE.” the voice crackled like the thunder before it, and her corpse crumbled into ashes, spilling onto him like heavy rain.

a guttural inhale stirred you from your dreams, flinching, but it was the sudden movements within the bed that woke you into a fright, scrambling you in bed. equally, clark’s silhouette sat up and slumped against the headboard as he paced his breath. in and out, his pants began to slow, but it was the flicker of the lamp, unveiling reality, and then the warmth of your hand on his chest that pacified him.

“clark,” your voice made him turn and he watched you simulate a regular breathing pattern before following your guidance. “slow, just like that.” your hand rested over his beating heart, aiding its journey to its regular pace with calming strokes, while you held his distraught with assurance, locking it into a vault when you leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. a job well-done, but also a measure to bring him back.

his breath was warm against yours, and he muttered a soft apology before pulling away, but keeping your hand to his chest, appreciative but silently afraid of letting you go.

“water?” before he could answer, you offered your cup of water that’s been sitting at the bedside table, and with two quick gulps, he soothed his throat.

it was a routine at this point. not every day, but at least once a week, clark would get night terrors that would startle you awake. others would’ve found it incredibly annoying, but you could never bring yourself to that thought. after what clark had told you, it would’ve been incredibly wounding for you to.

“i’m sorry,” clark sighed and pressed a warm hand to your cheek. you shook your head against it, mustering up a tired smile before pressing a kiss into his palm. he only pulled you closer to his side as you both lay breathless in bed. “let’s go back to sleep—“

“hah, you and i both know that won’t be happening.” chuckling, you playfully pushed him away before laying his head on your lap. he does so without any complaints, and an appreciative kiss to your stomach pressed. clark was always so protective of you, it was the least you could do for him. “want to talk about it?”

“no, it’s just…” clark’s gaze drafted to the wrinkles of your shirt, then he spent the majority of the silence inhaling your scent. it assured him that you were here—still here.

your fingers threaded through his locks in soothing rhythms, but clark’s frown remained. “lois again?”

“i didn’t mean to—“ he looked up, apologetic in the weary state of his gaze.

“clark,” your palm gently applied pressure to his temple, and you couldn’t help but to kiss him once more, then his nose, then his forehead, before pulling away. “she’s not… she shouldn’t be treated as if she didn’t exist.”

“I know,” clark hummed, agreeing yet reluctantly so. the strokes to his head—your touch—crumbled the protective walls of his nightmares and dreams, and a vault, mainly consisting of his insecurities and guilt, unlocked. “i know…”

one would agree that it was weird, offensive even, to talk about your ex-partner, more so if they had passed away. it gave the message that they still clung onto them, that they still loved them, that you were brought into someone’s life solely to fill that missing puzzle in their life. you’ve admitted that you struggled with that before, your self-esteem took a dive because you compared yourself to the impact she made on clark’s life. envious, you teared over.

but you’ve accepted it now. because clark’s dreams of lois wasn’t because he needed to replace her. the more he awakened you with his night terrors, it was telling that he was haunted by guilt—consumed by it. it ate him up on the inside. where the happiness that you would fill clark was immediately swallowed by regret, because the voice told him that he didn’t deserve to be happy.

clark agreed.

“i killed her, didn’t i?” his voice animated like the soft wrinkles on your shirt.

“you know that’s not true,” you frowned, and you pressed your palm to his cheek. “clark.”

“if i had been there quicker, if i had been stronger, if i had—“

“if you had abandoned the hundreds—thousands—of people in the city?” you questioned his blame, and he once again, looked up at you. orbs wet, glistening under the shade of dim lights. a sigh left your lips, and you continued the stokes to his head. “i know you’re superman, and… and you feel like you have to do everything—like you can do everything.”

“for the most part, you can.” your voice softened as well as your touch, until it came to a halt. warmth seeped into his head as you rested upon it. “but it’s frankly impossible to save everyone, you know that. and from what you’ve told me about lois, she would’ve wanted this outcome.”

“(m/n),”

“she probably would’ve forced you to, if i’m being honest.” you chuckled, and looked down at him, into his sober orbs. “and i could never, ever, know what you are going through. to have the safety of the planet fall on your shoulders. to fight those who try to destroy our planet. to take the life of those who do. to play god.”

“but what i do know is that,” clark gazed up now, his turn to caress your cheeks while you closed your eyes to the roughness of his hand. to the warm touch that has become a memory you would yearn for on a daily basis. “it’s not your fault. you had the impossible decision to choose between thousand of lives versus the love of your life, and i’d reckon you’d feel guilt either way, clark. and i’d also reckon that…”

“hm?”

your forehead pressed to his while his hand maintained on your cheek, and you blindly kissed at whatever was in front. his nose, lips, cheeks, features that you felt and cherished with all of your heart. all of your being. “you and lois knew the lives of thousands mattered the most.”

“i wouldn’t have had to make that decision had i been stronger, though.” clark reasoned, pulling away to sit up now, because guilt ate him again, as soon as you fed him his innocence. “if i was smarter, i would’ve been ten steps ahead. i would’ve figured out that the sun could heal me, to grant me more powers, to—”

“clark,” his mutters halted when you touched him again. though his back faced you, he knew the look you were giving him as he stared blankly, achingly into the wall. reassuring strokes lined his broad back before you leaned your forehead on it. “you can’t change the past.”

“it’s not about changing the past, it’s about,” he was frustrated, apologetic, sorrowful, all in one, and clark buried his face into his palms, muttering. “it’s about you. i can’t let it happen again. what if i lose you too?”

“you’re not going to lose me, clark.”

“we don’t know that—“ he sighed, lifting his head up, and then peered back at you. his wrinkles have never forested deeper, and exhaustion seeped into the fine lines. “it would break me. i wouldn’t know how to move on with myself, how to live, how to—“

“if that day ever comes, then i’m telling you now that i want you to make the right decision.” your arms wrapped around his waist, embracing him with the utmost warmth because in the pit of your stomach, in your deepest worries, you were afraid too. he was right. you never know if something might happen. whether from another attempted destruction of the world, or a simple heart attack, life was short.

“i need to keep you safe.”

“you already do, clark. and if something were to happen to me, then i trust that you will do your best to spare me from looking at death in the eye.” but clark’s hold to your hands sobered you, the warmth and beloved roughness like a potion, broke you free of those reckless thoughts, and you melted soft kisses along his upper back in appreciation, sighing. “but until then, i don’t want you spending the rest of your life worrying about me.”

“it’s my job to.” clark mindlessly played with your fingers, thinner than his. “to worry.”

“i know,” you squeezed tighter around him. “but i fell in love with clark kent, not the man of steel.”

“but—“

“if it’s my time to go, i don’t want you looking back at how we should’ve made more memories. you don’t need any more powers than you already have, clark.” you assured him with another kiss to his shoulder, and despite his refusal, he melted, leaning back into you. “you’ve kept me safe as you already are, and you will continue doing so until my very last breath.”

“until your very last breath…” he repeated, but you can hear the bitterness in his tone. chuckling, you soothed him with another kiss, to his other shoulder now.

“and until my last breath, i promise to also protect you as you will protect me. i may not be as strong as you are, and i may not be the sun that heals you.”

“(m/n),”

“but when the time comes, i assure you that your guilt will not be anchored to me. that you will no longer suffer because of me.”

“because i trust you.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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witcher-and-henry-cavill-stuff · 7 months

Text

𝖠 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖤𝗑𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Henry and y/n sat comfortably side by side, ready to engage in an interview that promised to shed light on their personal lives. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation, and they exchanged a knowing look, prepared for whatever questions would come their way.

The interviewer, with a mischievous glint in their eyes, leaned forward and asked Henry, "We've heard rumors that you might have a nickname that your significant other loves to use. Care to share that with us?"

Henry's eyebrow arched playfully, a knowing smile quirking at the corner of his lips. He glanced at y/n, who sat beside him, their eyes sparkling with amusement. He knew exactly what the interviewer was referring to. With a hint of a laugh, he responded, "Well, it seems 'daddy' is a term of endearment that gets thrown around quite a bit."

Y/n couldn't contain her laughter as Henry's words filled the room. Her eyes danced with mirth as she glanced at her husband, her hand instinctively rising to cover her mouth, trying to stifle the giggles that threatened to escape.

Henry, caught up in the infectious joy of the moment, turned to his wife, a broad smile stretching across his face. He couldn't help but chuckle himself, knowing that her laughter was contagious. The interviewer grinned, delighted by the genuine and playful dynamic between the couple.

Blushing ever so slightly, y/n managed to compose herself, shooting a mock-exasperated glance at Henry before addressing the interviewer. "Yes, well, it's become a bit of a running joke between us. But it's all in good fun," she explained, her voice filled with both affection and laughter.

The interviewer nodded, their own laughter bubbling forth. "It's clear that humor and joy are an integral part of your relationship," they commented, a warmth evident in their tone.

Henry reached out, gently placing his hand on y/n's, their fingers intertwining. "Laughter brings us closer and reminds us not to take life too seriously," he said, his gaze filled with adoration for his wife. "We cherish those light-hearted moments that make our love even stronger."

As the interview continued, Henry and y/n exchanged playful glances, their shared laughter becoming a soundtrack to their interaction. It was evident to all in the room that their connection was built on a solid foundation of love, trust, and a shared sense of humor.

In that moment, Henry and y/n showcased their ability to find joy in each other's presence, even in the midst of a public interview. Their playful banter and genuine laughter served as a reminder of the happiness they shared, a happiness that radiated beyond the confines of the interview room.

And as the interview drew to a close, the lingering laughter in the air served as a testament to the lightness and love that permeated their relationship—a love that embraced moments of playfulness and brought immeasurable joy to their lives.

#henry cavill x reader #x reader #funny #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill one shot #one shot #imagine #fluff #female reader #reader insert

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mandos-things · 2 years

Text

Still Here - Geralt x reader Angst

Relationship : Genderneutral!reader x Geralt

Warnings : angst, fluffy towards the end, mentions of crying, emotional distress, mentions of smut (nothing explicit), 18+ (read blog bio)

~~~~

The air was stuffy and thick, the humidity of your nightly ventures caressed your skin ever so slightly, rousing you from your slumber.

You groaned, arms stretching as much as the headboard would allow. You did not dare turn around, for fear of what you might see. Or rather, of what you knew you wouldn't.

You could count on one hand the number of times you've tangled up with the White Wolf. And every time, every damned time, he would pretend nothing had happened. Apathy came as naturally to him as breathing. At least, when it came to you.

By night he sang, like the angels of the heavens above, whispering promises of something more in the aftermath of your passion.

And when the time came....nothing.

He would leave, long before you woke. And you would be left to scramble for the pieces of your heart he held the night before. Held, and moulded...caressed and loved. Come morning- broken and shattered -

You should've learned your lesson. Should have...by now, you think, it should've been so easy to walk away...to tear his hands from your hips and let him go. Pull on your shirt and pick up your boots and just leave-

But you couldn't. Not when he kissed you like that - like he's making up for every love he's never had, like he's afraid to lose you...like he loves you-

You push the though away. No use in torturing yourself first thing in the morning.

Yet still, you don't stop yourself from feeling- one tear, two, make their way across your face, as you attempt to hide among the sheets and pillows - as if it would provide some reprieve from the happenings in your mind.

You daren't look back. Not even when every cell in your body is screaming for you to. Maybe this time, maybe this once-

"mmhm."

You stop breathing for a second, unsure if what you heard is actually real.

Too lost in your thoughts, you jump when a pair of big arms drags you toward and even bigger chest. Warmth. His Warmth.

You pull away, just a little, just enough to turn and look -

Here's here. Still here.

He doesnt miss the urgency in the way you pulled away from him, and he doesnt miss the desperation in your gaze as it drags along his form...like you're making sure he isn't just a dream-

And suddenly he's guilty. His shoulders stiffen and his breaths slow, almost to nothing.

Moments pass. You wait for the panic, for the pain...but it doesnt come. Your heart swells and you cant help but smile - one hand cups his cheek as the other keeps you upright.

You kiss him. On his forehead...down his cheek...and to his lips. Just as soft as the night before. He pulls you closer, face burying into the side of your neck, and it tickles -

He smiles, actually fucking smiles - and he kisses you then, softly, gently. Like he's making sure you aren't a dream too.

The stuffy room seems to fade into the background, you can see only him...feel him...the cold, soft pecks along your neck, and your chest, as the warmth of his hands caress the rest of you.

And you know, nothing else matters, because here's finally here. He's still fucking here.

~~~~~

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hertzwritings · 2 years

Text

Stranded

A/N: I have nothing clever to say, so I won’t. Anyway, I love you all so much! Prompt: “Okay, so... We’re in the middle of the nowhere, no signal and the car died, and you’re trying to say it could be worse?”

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized something – the sky is the limit, and it would really help me out with my bills this month.

Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine, in particular), and my requests and askbox are always open – there’s no limits because I am me and I have none.

MASTERLIST

PROMPT-LIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Henry Cavill x plus sized!Reader

Contains: Enemies to lovers, language, smut (MDNI), fingering, nicknames, p in v, unprotected sex, public sex, Henry being an absolute confident bastard, cream pie, praise-kink, slight impactplay (on f face)

W.C.: 4.210

Stranded

You know those friends of friends, you just can’t seem to get along with? The ones, that just get on your nerves, as soon as you see them? You constantly bicker or have a weird, passive aggressive relationship with each other?

That’s how you felt about Henry fucking Cavill.

You didn’t know if it was because he rarely talked to you, his holier-than-thou-attitude or the fact that he didn’t seem to care about anyone but himself, but you couldn’t stand the man. You didn’t hate people, but if there was ever a person close to that, it would be him.

“Could you just try to be nice to him? I promise, he’s a good person, and he does like you, he just sucks at expressing it.” Lo closed the zipper on her dress-bag, before turning to face you. You crossed your arms. “I’ll be nice, when he’s nice.” She rolled her eyes at you and put her shoes in a bag. “I’m serious, Y/N. He is a good guy, you just have to…” “If you’re going to tell me I need to give him another chance, I will literally murder you. On the day of your wedding. Don’t think I won’t.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Dude… Firstly, try me, I will rise from the dead to marry that man. Secondly, you have to. He’s as much a part of my life as you are. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the amount of sexual tension between the two of you is seriously unparalleled. You could burn down cities with it.” You rolled your eyes. “Don’t try this again. There’s nothing between us. You know it, I know it and he sure as hell wouldn’t even entertain the idea of being with me.” You sounded a little hurt at the end, but tried to ignore it. Loes cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t lie. I’ve seen how you look at him when you think nobody sees.” “Yeah, how’s that?” You asked stubbornly. “Like you want to jump his bones. Literally. Sometimes I can’t figure out if it’s because you want to crush his windpipe or have him stuffed into yours.” You sputtered. “Rude, Lo!” “He looks at you the same way, by the way. I even talked to him about it. He refused in the same way as you do, vehemently and unconvincingly.” She flashed you her signature smile. “You both act like fools, you know. Not that it matters, because you have to try and get along.” “Pfht, tell him that.” “Well… You might be forced to.” She shot you a guilty smile and you raised your eyebrows in worry. She always used that smile when she was planning something. “Alsoyoureridinginthesamecartothevenue.” She spoke so fast, you didn’t know what she said. “Try again, this time without Quicksilver-ing.” “You’re riding in the same car to the venue. Sorry.” “What?” You inhaled a big breath, ready to verbally rip your best friend a new one. “Don’t!” Lo held her hand up and raised her eyebrows. “I know what you’re going to say, but it’s my wedding, we had limited cars and I need you two assholes to try and get along.” You frowned and fought the urge to stomp your feet like a toddler. “Fine. Only because you’re getting married, and I don’t really want to die on such a day.” She grinned at you. “Perfect. Listen, I have to go to get hair and makeup done, and as my maid of honor, I’m hoping you can do me a little favor?” “Fuck.” You sighed. “What do you need?” She smiled softly. “So, Henry’s bringing the car around to get to the venue early. You’re already ready, so can you go with him, make sure everything is as it needs to be?” You nodded, quieting the voice yelling about Henry in your head. “Of course, babes. I got it.” “Call my mom if there’s anything out of place. That woman is on the warpath today, better let her aggression get out on the right people.” You laughed. “Sure thing.” “Thanks, babes.” You grabbed your stuff and waved goodbye, before closing the door behind you. Lo called her husband to be in the same moment, as you left.

“Phase one of the plan is in motion.” “Thank God. I’ll make sure the rest is in place.” “Perfect. I love you, Andy.” “Love you too.”

--------------

You spotted him, before he spotted you. You hated to admit that he looked damn fine in a tailored suit, walking in wide strides and smiling softly to himself. The smile disappeared the minute, he saw you.

“Oh. Good, you’re ready.” He said, pointing to the car behind him. “Let’s go.” You rolled your eyes. “Hi, to you too, Henry.” You mumbled and followed him, getting in the car and made sure your dress wasn’t wrinkled or stuck in the door. “Yeah, yeah. You got everything?” You nodded. “Good. I’m not going back, so…” you exhaled. This was going to be fine. Just fine.

You drove in silence for a while, your eyes glued to the damned GPS to see how far away you were. You still had almost two and a half hours before the actual wedding started, and if he kept the pace, you were going to be at the venue in thirty minutes. Which was perfect, because his vibe was off – you couldn’t determine if it was anger, annoyance or something else, that bugged him, but it rubbed off on you and there was tension in the car thick enough to drive a knife through.

“You pick that dress?” You looked down at yourself at his words, clenching your jaw. No, it hadn’t been your first – or second or third – choice of dress, because you felt wildly exposed in the lavender silk, and you definitely had to convince yourself that it didn’t cling to your body in a way, that enhanced every roll and lump you didn’t like.

“No, I didn’t.” “Hm.” You looked out of the window. “Why?” “Oh, nothing.” You sighed at him. “If it’s because you think I look like a stuff sausage, don’t worry, I’m already thinking it myself. Don’t need your opinion, Henry.” He scoffed. “Fine, I won’t say anything, then.” “Good. Think you can last the rest of your life like that?” He glanced at you with narrowed eyes. “I’ve been called worse by better.” It was your turn to scoff. “If I wanted to listen to an asshole, I’d fart.” You retorted and almost missed the way his lips turned up in a small smile. “Everyone is entitled to act stupid every once in a while, but you abuse that privilege.” You narrowed your eyes. Alright, if it was an insult-war he wanted, he’d get it. If there was one thing, you’d learned to do as a shield, it was hurling insults. You turned to face him.

“Hold still. I’m trying to imagine your personality.” He chuckled, actually chuckled at that one. “Good one.” “I know.” He was quiet for a moment.

“I was hoping for a battle of wits, but it seems you came unarmed.” “Ouch.” You couldn’t help the smile on your face and was about to come with your best one yet, when the car lurched a few times before stopping. You groaned as the seatbelt cut into your chest. “What the fuck?” You mumbled. “Shit. Hang on.” You looked around while Henry got out of the car and saw nothing but wheat-fields around you and a few trees. Shit.

“Fuck, the tire is busted.” He yelled and you opened the door a little to hear him clearer. “And I have no service.” You closed your eyes. Just your luck. You looked at your own phone but didn’t have any luck either. “Me neither. Is there a spare?” He walked to the trunk, popping it open. “No.” “Shit…” You bit your lip. He walked to your side of the car, opening the door fully and leaned against the car, looking at you. “Well, it could be worse.” You glared at him. “Okay, so… We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no signal and the car died, and you’re telling me it could be worse?” He shrugged. “At least you’re not here with someone who hates you or anything.” You frowned. “I don’t hate you. I don’t hate people generally.” You unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the car, stretching your legs. You briefly considered walking the rest of the way, but it was a long way to go, you didn’t have signal to even try and GPS your way out of it, and you were wearing heels. You’d die not even halfway there. “You don’t? You sure act like you do.” He said crossing his arms and looked over the fields, blue eyes scanning the horizon. You sighed and leaned against the hood of the car.

“I act like I do, because you act the way you do.” You said bitterly. He frowned. “I don’t act any way.” You laughed. “Ha, sure you don’t. your holier-than-thou attitude is grating at best, your face constantly screams idiot to anyone who dares look your way, and you rarely talk to anyone without them feeling like gum under your shoes.” He sighed. “Do people feel that way or do you?” “Does it matter?” He took a tentative step to you, and then one more and one more, until he settled on the hood of the car, right next to you. “It does to me.” “Well… I can’t speak for anyone else, but yes, I do feel like that. You’re an ass.” He chuckled. “Have you ever considered that maybe you have a defense mechanism that allows you to think the absolute worst of other people?” “Have you considered that maybe you’re just a dick?” “I don’t think I am. I think you…” You held your hand up and refused to look at him. “Spare me your British psycho-babble, I already have a therapist.” “No surprise there.” You whipped your head around to face him, anger rolling off your shoulders in waves. “What the hell is your problem?! God, the people that tolerate you on a daily basis are the real heroes in life.” You drew a deep breath. “I have no idea what your problem is, but I bet it’s hard to pronounce, you absolute asswipe.” You pushed off the car and began walking – anything would be better than this shit.

“Hey, don’t walk away from me! We were having a conversation.” “Which led nowhere. Feed your own ego, I’m busy.” “You don’t even know where you’re going.” “Away from you, which is a perfectly fine way.” He followed you and grabbed your elbow, yanking you back a little. You were seething. “What the fuck is your problem, Henry!?” You spat, ripping your elbow free of his hand.

“YOU!” He yelled. You stood in front of him, mouth agape – you were taken aback by the loudness of his voice in the middle of the quiet road, a jarring disposition to the silence only broken by the whispers of wheat and birdsong. “Excuse me?” “You heard me. You. You are my problem.” “Listen here, you fucking…” He clamped a hand over your mouth, and you yelped at the warm and rough fingers that landed on your cheek. His hand was huge. “For once in your life, shut up and let me talk.” You glared at him. “You are the single most frustrating person, I’ve ever met. You get on my nerves, you are a terror to be around, your laugh makes me want to die…” You rolled your eyes. “And you act as if everyone is out to hurt you. You’re a fucking menace, Y/N.” You didn’t want the words to hurt, but they slowly seeped inside of you and rested comfortably in the pit of your stomach.

“I detest you. Deeply. Like, spitefully, fully, wholeheartedly, I detest you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Because you never leave my goddamned mind. Your smile is etched into my very being, your stupid one-liners that shouldn’t hurt as much as they do, they stay behind in my head every day. You are frustrating because you never leave. I cannot stop thinking about you, I cannot stop dreaming of just shutting you up. It shouldn’t bother me that you seemingly hate me, but it does. I shouldn’t care about you, but I do. I should hate you, but I can’t bring myself to do so.” He finally removed his hand from your mouth, but you didn’t know what to say.

“Everything you are, everything I can’t stand in a person, is also what makes me want to bury myself completely and irrevocably in you. Fuck!” He ran a hand through his hair. “Your entire form is running rampant in my mind, and I can’t for the life of me make it stop. The things I’ve…” He stopped himself and glared at you. “I detest you.” You glared right back and found your voice.

“I detest you, too, if it wasn’t clear.” You spat, but something in you blurred the lines – hate, spite, anger, lust… It was a jumbled mess. You poked him in the chest with a finger. “I detest that you say those things, because it makes it very hard to keep being frustrated and annoyed with you, and I don’t know how to deal with it. You’re the fucking bane of my existence. I tried, oh, I tried to make you like me, and I tried to make myself like you, but nothing was ever good enough. God, you really are an ass, aren’t you? You say all these things, and what, expect me to fall at your feet, because you line insults with lust? Or want, or…”

His lips crashed into yours with wild ferocity, hands grabbing at your hair and lower back, pulling you close. You gasped against it, and realized with a heartbeat that this, this, was what you wanted. What you needed. It wasn’t hate or even spite, that kept you from him, it was the very idea that he was him and you didn’t stand a chance, so you wouldn’t allow yourself to even play with the idea. You hated that Loes was right.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, tongue meeting his with a fight for dominance, and your fingers laced between his hair, tugging it roughly. He groaned at the feeling and his teeth found your lip, biting down – you whimpered at the feeling, and suddenly, like a switch had been flicked inside of you, anger seeped right out of you, replaced with a burning lust.

You didn’t think. There wasn’t room to think about anything but getting him closer. You jumped and as if he had known all along, he held you tightly, his hand resting on your ass as he held you up, kneading it roughly. You mewled against the sensation, and he growled, turning on his heel to place you on the hood of the car, slotting himself between your legs.

You didn’t know why you spent so long disliking him, because right now, all you could feel was regret of not having his lips on yours and the absolute hunger that took you over. his fingers were everywhere, holding you while scrunching your dress up, lips dominating on yours. A hand went into your hair and tugged it roughly, and a sound, you didn’t recognize as your own, spilled from your lips. “Fuck.” You whispered into the kiss, your hips rolling when his fingers dipped inside of you. “You’re already this wet for me?” he smirked against your lips, pumping his fingers in and out lazily. “Fuck you.” You moaned and arched your back, trying to draw him deeper. He chuckled and his lips moved to your neck and oh.

His fingers pushed deeper as his teeth grazed over your sensitive skin, and he sped up, somehow fully aware of everything, that made your toes curl. The man knew what he was doing, and you were writhing against him. “You’re getting so close, aren’t you, darling? Want to cum… Make a mess of my fingers?” “Yes, holy fuck…” He chuckled and bit down on your neck and curled his fingers up. “Then cum.” It wasn’t a command, but an overtly confident statement, but it worked; you moaned loudly, his name slipping in somewhere in between, as pleasure ran through your body. You felt as if a universe had been lit up inside of you, warming you with the heat of a thousand stars. “Good girl, look at you…” He moaned when you finally got your head back together, and your hand slid to his hard cock, palming it through his pants. “Fuck, hold on…” He unbuttoned his pants, and you lifted your ass to remove your underwear fully, throwing them somewhere to your right. “Fuck, you’re slow.” You teased, spreading your legs for him. You heard the belt-buckle hit the ground and saw his smirk in the split-second it took him to line himself up with you and slide inside.

He didn’t give you time to adjust but began fucking you like his entire life depended on it; you were a mess already and he stretched you out to a point, where it should hurt, but all you felt was full. “Shit!” you moaned, grabbing his hair, and tugging it. He grunted and snapped his hips, his cock dragging against your walls in a way you didn’t think was possible. “Still slow, huh?” He managed to say between his moans. No, he was not. He was working at a superhuman speed, his thick cock slamming in ‘to you repeatedly, making the car bounce beneath you. You didn’t have a single thought in your head other than why didn’t I do this earlier, and you were so wrapped up in the feeling of him, that you didn’t even feel the orgasm coming before it slammed into you like too many tequila-shots at a brown bar.

You screamed, loud enough for a flock of birds to lift from the nearest treetop as you came, the wet, sopping noises from your wet pussy and his cock working you filling the air as an echo; you were clinging to his shoulders, wrapping your legs around him to get him deeper. If you had any say in it, he wasn’t leaving.

“Fucking… Oh, kitten, fuck you came so hard…” he grabbed your face roughly and kissed you, tongues colliding as he pistoned in and out of you, chasing his own high. “You take me so fucking well, don’t you?” You preened and whimpered, trying to meet his thrusts. You were going to have bruises on your inner thighs in and hour, and you didn’t regret it at all. “You like it when I fuck you like this? Huh?” You couldn’t answer, even if you tried. His hand landed on your cheek, while the wet sounds of your bodies meeting filled your ears, and you moaned at the impact. “Answer me.” You moaned. “Yes, fuck, I lo-love it, please…” You didn’t know what you were asking him to do, but you needed something. Anything. More of what he was doing, probably, because you didn’t think it would ever feel like this again.

He growled, motherfucking growled and you clenched around him as his rhythm faltered for a second. “Fuck, do that again.” He commanded, angling his hips slightly to move further up into you; you mewled and clenched around him again, and he moaned. “You want me to cum in you, baby?” He asked breathlessly, a clear question if you were willing to cross that line with him.

Well, you’d come so far.

“Please… Fill me, please…” You were lost in pleasure, your head lolling back and your eyes rolling. “Such a cock-drunk little kitten, aren’t you?” He chuckled and moaned as you clenched again. “I’m going to make sure you’re leaking for fucking days.” You almost blacked out at that.

He grunted and fucked you relentlessly, chasing his own high. You were shaking like a leaf, and you felt a familiar warmth spread in your abdomen, disbelieving that you could go again. “Oh, is my good, little kitten going to cum with me?” he mumbled, lips peppering sloppy kisses along your collarbone. “Fuck, I don’t… I can’t…” You moaned. You were sure you’d come apart at the seams, if you came again. “You can and you will.” He was moaning loudly now, his speed and rhythm all over the place. “Fucking give it to me, Y/N.” For some reason, your name falling from his lips did you in. You came with a breathless shout, clinging to him for dear life as your pussy gushed wetness onto him, pulsing and drawing him deeper. He groaned and your name tumbled from his lips again, and you felt thick ropes of cum fill you completely, while he fucked you through his orgasm, and a little after that.

You both came down with hitching breaths, and you avoided looking at him, your mind racing. Fuck, why on earth did you do that with him of all people? “You’re thinking.” He stated, slowly pulling out of you and handed you your underwear. You could feel him leaking out of you, and you were thankful that the dress had been hitched around your hips. “Post nut-clarity and all that.” You said with a shrug and slid your feet onto solid ground. He raised an eyebrow at you while buckling his pants. “Which is?” “Shameful.” You said honestly. He frowned. “Did you not… Enjoy yourself?” He asked, clearly actually concerned. “No, it’s not… That.” You sighed and tried to fix your hair. “I just… I hate that I fell for it so easily. I mean, you’re you and I’m guessing this will be kept very down-low, because it’s always a little shameful to be with me.” You tried to sound cavalier about it, but you could hear it yourself – you didn’t sound blasé, but more hurt than anything. He reached out for you and pulled you close to his chest, his eyes flickering between yours.

“You think I’d want to not talk about this to literally anyone I meet?” “Okay, to taunt doesn’t count.” You rolled your eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Are you kidding? Did you not hear what I said before I kissed you?” He asked, his hand cupping your face. “You’re in my head all day, every second and every minute of my life, ever since you came into it. I’m not a one-and-done kind of man, I’ll have you know. I might seem like a have a superiority-complex, but I promise you, I’d be crawling across broken glass for you, if you asked.” You cleared your throat. “It’s fine, you don’t need to…” “Oh, shut up, Y/N.” he grinned and kissed you deeply. When he finally let your lips go, he cocked that stupid fucking eyebrow again. “I don’t care if I have to make you cum every hour from now on and until you die to convince you that I want you, you sarcastic bitch.” He said it fondly and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. “You think I’m sarcastic? Romance isn’t dead!” You grinned. “Do you honestly think I would have pretended to lose a tire in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere on the way to our best friend’s wedding without a reason?” You gasped and slapped his shoulder.

“What the fuck? You faked it!?” He chuckled. “Get in the car, kitten. We’ve got a wedding to go to.” He slapped your ass as you walked away from him and got into the car, your mind reeling - when he got in, conversation flowed easily, full of sarcastic remarks and stupid one-liners, while his hand rested on your thigh, thumb rubbing small circles.

------------

“Oh my god, you aren’t dead!” Lo laughed as you both ran inside the venue, minutes before the ceremony was supposed to start, your hands entangled. “Well…” “And do my eyes deceive me, or are you holding hands?” She smirked. “Is this the real-life enemies to lovers-trope, or am I just lucky?” You turned to Henry and gave him the fakest, sweetest smile you could muster. “When I look at him, I think… Where have you been all my life? And…” You sighed dreamily. “Can he go back there?” He roared with laughter. “When I look at you, darling, I wish I could meet you again for the first time…” He looked at you lovingly. “And walk right past.” You both doubled over in laughter, and you didn’t miss the soft kiss on your hair, before his arm wrapped around your waist.

“Shit, I did not think this through. And I don’t have time. Excuse me, Mr. Cavill, can you go stand by my future husband’s side? I’d like to get on with it, so I can be Mrs. Barber sooner than later, please.” Lo grinned at him as he saluted her and kissed your cheek before leaving the room.

You held your arm out to her and she took it with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“I know you were in on it, and I’ll smack you on the back of the head when it’s not your wedding day.” She just laughed.

-------------------------------

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669 notes · View notes

supercap2319 · 2 months

Text

Clark guides Y/N into a seedy bar. The lights are dark, and country-rock music blares in the background of the speakers. People are dancing and surrounding the bar. Clark, clad in a tight sleeveless black muscle shirt, huge smile on his face. As he rounds the corner of the bar with Y/N, who is dressed a bit more conservatively than most of the bar's male patrons. He thought they might be going out to a movie or dinner, but he never expected a bar.

"This place is great!" Clark smiled.

"I guess. Not exactly what I was expecting." Y/N said.

As the two walk past the bar, two men turn and eye Y/N appreciatively, being very obvious about their actions, commenting to each other about the 'twink on legs.' Clark notices, and with an angry look on his face, steps threateningly toward the men. "What the fuck are you looking at, huh?"

Y/N steps in between Clark and the men. "Clark, I'm fine! I'm fine." He gives the men a look and pushes Clark away from them. The two men give Clark looks like they want to fight, but Y/N turns Clark around before he can see it. Clark grins widely as he looks out at everyone around them having fun.

"You want a beer?"

"What?! No! And since when do you drink?"

"Well, if you don't want to drink, then let's dance!"

"Clark, are you high or something? This place isn't us. Let's go somewhere else and talk." Y/N begs.

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Loosen up. You're so tense. Question is, how tight are you?" Clark smiled filthy. Before Y/N can answer, a pretty girl in a red short dress comes up to them. "Feel like a dance, Handsome?"

Clark grins and looks at Y/N. "I'll be back." He watched the pair as the girl wrapped her arms around his neck as Clark's hands got lower on her waist. They swayed to the music for a bit before Clark dipped his head down, moving to kiss her, but Y/N walked over to them. "I'm leaving."

"Y/N, we just got here. Clark pulls a $100 bill from his pocket and holds it out to Y/N. "Why don't you, uh, go get us some drinks? We'll all have a good time."

"You are unbelievable! What happened to telling me the truth?"

"What happened to 'You can spend time with whoever you want'?" Clark countered.

"Is that the way you want it?" Y/N asked, upset. Clark looks him up and down. "Sure. There's enough of me to go around. I have nothing against a threesome." He grins.

Y/N shakes his head in disbelief and turns to go. Clark grabs his arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Clark, let go of me." Y/N said.

"Come on. I'll rock your world." He leaned down and kissed him on the lips.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #clark kent x male reader #clark kent #henry cavill #Henry Cavill x male reader #superman #Superman x male reader

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angywritesstuff · 1 year

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The one with the “Call her Daddy Podcast”

Summery: you are invited to partecipate to the “Call her daddy” podcast, and after a serious considerstion, you decide to accept and to be unfiltered

Pairings: Henry Cavill x reader (demisexual!reader)

Warnings: 18+(there is not smut, but there is mention of sex), bad english (ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO I’M SORRY IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES). This is not proofread, sorry!

FEEDBACK, OF ANY KIND, IS ALWAYS WELCOME AND APPRECIATED ❤️

When you had been asked to partecipate to the “Call her daddy” podcast, the first thing that had come to your mind had been an HARD NO! There was no way you were going to let anyone convince you otherwise: you were a shy person, you felt uncomfortable when people asked you too much personal questions during interviews. This side of you was so well known that many of your costars were always ready to come to your help when you started to get too flustered about the questions you were asked during interviews.

So no, there was no way that you were to be a guest of a podcast during which you were going to be asked personal questions for sure.

Your agent had asked you to think about it a little bit more before turning the invitation down, she had pointed out that even though you had been an actress for long people still didn’t know much about you, and even though there wasn’t nothing bad with being a private person, it would be good for your career if you would be able to open a little bit more, just a little bit so that your fan could know you and sympathize with you and your life. You had promised her to think about it, because she actually had had a point, even though you were sure that after giving a couple of more thoughts and after talking with your boyfriend, you would have still come to the same conclusion: you couldn’t do it.

Instead...

Your boyfriend, like the goddman perfect man that he was, had told you that he couldn’t make the decsion for you, that it would be something huge for you, so that you had to really think it through to understand if you could do it: it wouldn’t make any sense if you decided to go but in the end wouldn’t be able to be very honest and answer even some uncomfortable questions. He had also told that you could never know if your interview wouldn’t end up helping someone finding out new things about thmselves.

So yes you had decided to try in the end and here you were trying to sit comfortably on a sofa ready to do this.

“Y/n Y/sn, welcome to call her daddy. How did you decide what you wanted to wear today?”- the host, Alexandra Copper, asked

“Well I just wanted to be comfortable so there wasn’t much of a choice. For a moment I had thought to come in my sweatpants, but then I thought I should at least put a little bit of un affort, so yeah in the end it was a jeans and a sweater ”- you smiled, you hadn’t expected fot that first question, but it actually helped calm you a little bit.

“I mean, sweatpants would have still been a great choice but you look really cute and comfortable so that’s what matter. So Y/n you are a very well known actress and I saw when you arrived how many paps followed you, how do you deal with that?”- Alexandra asked

“Well first of all thank you for the’ very well known’… I mean it’s not ideal and it’s not my favorite thing about my career for sure, but I think what helps is that they mostly bother you when you are in LA, anywhere else they are few and far and they usually are more interested in me when I am with my boyfriend. If I am alone most of the time I manage with just a couple of photos you know, so they can say they did their job; but when my boyfriend Henry is with me they go bananas. So I get that the solution for me would be to change boyfriend”- you and Alexandra both laughed in the end, both knowing it was a joke.

“So let’s get into it, you are in a relationship with one of the most famous person in the world, Henry Cavill, Superman himself. What are the best parts?”- she asked

“Well for starters Henry is one of the best person, if not THE best person, i have ever met in my life, he is one of those people that always thinks about others, that always does his best to make people happy and comfortable. So yeah the very best part I think his Henry himself. We met in a very delicate moment of my life and, even before we started dating, he had always been there for me, to support me, he is like my rock you know, my best friend”- you said, hoping that you didn’t sound like a fangirl with her first crush

“You guys are really cute together and I think that the love you two share is so pure and authentic that a lot of people can see it, even from the outside, even just watching you talk with one another, I think that’s a reason why like almost everyone really love you together”

“Thank you, it’s really nice to know people are supportive of our relationship, not that people hate would change how we feel about each other, I mean he would still be my soulmate even if there was a lot of hate direct at us, but it’s nice”- you smiled and you really meant it because when Henry had asked you out the first time 6 years ago you had been very unsure: he was already very much famous and you had just started your career and the last thing you wanted was for people to even remotely think that you were just dating him to boost your career. And adding to that there was an age difference that didn’t make either of you uncomfortable but you knew that most people probably wouldn’t like that. It had taken you a little bit of time to let your fear of what people could think behind and just decide to do what your heart was telling you to do.

“How has you dating such a famous person impacted your identity?”

“That’s a good question, I think that dating Henry, as Henry not as famous person you know, has added to my identity a lot like any other relationship would. I was a lot younger and he was a little bit older than I am now when we first started dating so I actually grew up during the relationship so yeah it has changed me for the best I think. Dating him has for sure helped me become the woman I am now; I dont’ know if I am explaining myslef”- you laughed sure that you had made a mess

“No no I get it, every relationship teach you a lot you know, have you ever received hate at the beginning of your relationship because of the age gap?”

“I mean people can be judgimental and at the beginning of our relantioship it was a real fear of mine, not of Henry, he didn’t care, again he was more mature than me back then so he was like ‘I am not doing anything wrong, I’m not hurting anybody so fuck them’ you know. And in the end Henry’s attitude rubbed off on me and when the months went on and then years went on and we were still together and people couldn’t say that he was with me only for sex or I was with him only for his money or his fame, it all passed. So yeah, he never cared about the possible hate and I started to not care anymore after some time too.”

“I get it, you know haters gotta hate so the only thing you can do is be happy”- Alexandra said

“Exactly”

“So this is a question that I hadn’t planned to ask so you can decide not to answear without any problem I swear, but it has been a curiosity of mine for so long that I have to.”

“You are scaring me”- you laughed trying to stay calm

“no no don’t be scared, I’ve watched your last film the other night, wonderful job by the way”

“Thank you”- you stopped her for a second

“So there was a very intimate scene in the film and I have always wondered how are you able to play that scene, I mean I know you are an actor and of course it’s your job but isn’t it difficult to pretend?”-Alexandra finished her question

“Oh my god, you really scared me but I can answear that. It’s difficult, it really is, for me in particular it is more difficult to shoot an intimate scene than one where I am supposed to be sad or angry or whatever. It becomes easier with the experience of course but it wasn’t at the beginning. I still remember my first sex scene, it was such a flop because when you shoot an intimate scene it’s basically like you have to fake an orgasm and I really didn’t know how to”

“Oh come on every woman knows how to fake an orgasm because everyone has had to fake at least once”- alexandra argued

“I know it sounds difficult to believe but I haven’t, I have had my first sexual relationship, and can’t believe I’m actually saying it, with Henry and I haven’t ever needed to fake”

“Wait, leaving behind that you have never needed to fake with your boyfriend so lucky you, you didn’t date anyone before Henry?”- you thought a second before answering, you weren’t ashemed of who you were, of your experience but this was the first time you actually opened up about this side of yourself

“I had some dates before Henry but never a sexual partner before him. I am actually demisexual, I don’t feel sexual attraction if I don’t have an emotional connection first and a lot of people don’t have the patience to wait for me to get there. So I tried dating for a while but once I saw people getting impatient after the second or third date I actually stopped dating for a while. Beside I had just started my career and I knew I needed to be focused so I swore off dating, at least untill I met Henry, that is. And even then it was a while before I agreeded to a date but he is a very stubborn person”- you took a deep breath

“I didn’t know that”

“It’s ok, I don’t think anyone did other than my friend and family”- you smiled at her

“I’m really glad you decided to open up and now for the most difficult questions”- she started and you both laughed because you knew what was coming -”this is the part where we talk about your sex life if it’s ok”- Alexandra double checked even though you had already given the all clear before the interview began

“I’m ready”

“We need to give the fan what they want, to give them a little taste. So are you a morning sex or a night sex person?”- she asked

“I’m more like the morning sex kinda girl because it gives you a boost for the day you know. But both Henry and I, we work a lot and even though we try to make sure our work plan align as much as we can, it’s not always possible. So the real answear would be whenever we are together and have time.”- you could see the mirth in Alexandra’s eyes

“You gotta make it count right?”

“Right”- you nodded at her

“Has anyone ever tried to have a threesome with you and Henry?”

“If you mean if anyone ever have approached us in person, no, but a lot of people have asked on tweeter And the answer would be a no anyway, not only for me but even for Henry. He is not into sharing I’m afraid and not even I am. Sorry guys”- you laughed , yu were finding yourself to have actually fun… who would have thought

“Do you and Henry have the same favorite sex positions?”

“I think so”

“Can you give us one?”- Alexandra smiled trying to get more from you

“We like to change and experiment but my all time favorite would be cowgirl”- you answered in the end

“You heard it here, what is the sexiest think that Henry does that turns you on?”

“I mean you have seen my boyfriend, he can just look at me with those beautiful eyes of him and the love that I always find there is always enough to get me ready to go”- you laughed not even understanding how was possible for you to feel so comfortable to answear withouth any problem -”but one of the thing that turn me the most on is actually watching Henry work out”

“What is the sexiest thing that you do that turn Henry on?”

“wearing his clothes probably”

“Y/n Y/sn we are done, thank you for being here and thank you for being so open and honest, it was really nice to have you here”- Alexandra said at the end.

“Thank you for having me, I thought long and hard before agreeing to come because I knew of course the question would be really personal but I am actually gald I accepted to come”

And you meant it, you were glad in the end that you had changed your mind but you couldn’t wait to leave the building and go back to your boys.

Henry Cavill and charachters taglist: @xxxkatxo @mansaaay @thorins-queen-of-erebor @maan24 @grounded-in-light @omgkatinka @xprettyqueenx @marytudorbrandon @kebabgirl67 @narnianaos

All around taglist: @jwspiter

I hope I didn’t forget to tag anyone if I did I’m sorry so please remember me, if you name id crossed id because I wasn’t able to tag you

#henry cavill #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #demisexual reader #RPF #no hate #reader insert #rpf fanfic #angywritesstuff

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pascaloverx · 1 month

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DANGEROUS

CHAPTER FOUR (+18)

Summary: You are a retired spy trying to live a normal life. Some time ago, a hired assassin named Tangerine tried to kill you. In response, you sought the help of an old acquaintance who could fake any death, August Walker. However, now your false identity is in jeopardy, along with your life.

Warnings: This chapter will have inappropriate language, explicit content. Readers are warned. The characters August Walker and Tangerine do not belong to me but to their respective creators. Some other characters that belong to both Mission: Impossible (2018) and Bullet Train (2022) may appear in this fanfic. Other characters who are not part of these movies will be of my own creation. I hope you enjoy the reading. Chapter with scenes intended for adults, if you are not an adult, do not read.

chapter three chapter five

August looks uncomfortable. Ever since he agreed to work alongside Tangerine. You know the fact that you had a brief romance with Tangerine doesn't help. As you prepare the bed so that August Walker can sleep, you feel him watching you. Tangerine was too tired to do anything so he just passed out on your bed.

"So after years of partnership, you ditched me for a cheap, less pretty version?" August says while watching you. You tense up, knowing you don't have much to say.You tense up, knowing you don't have much to say.

"I would like to remind you that after our partnership ended, you disappeared from my life. It was as if it didn't matter how many nights we spent together. You can't demand loyalty when you abandon someone." You say arranging the blanket on the bed. August is still standing with his arms crossed in the guest room door.

"I didn't abandon you. We made a deal, Y/N. Feelings were out of the question. And then you put my life ahead of the mission. Damn it, what did you think would happen?" Walker speaks with his authoritative tone, asserting his belief that he's right. But how could putting him above the mission be such a bad thing?

"I should have let you die, Walker. I should have let Ethan kill you on that damn mission, you ungrateful bastard." You say, staring at Walker, growing increasingly irritated. Walker approaches, getting inches away from you. His eyes devouring you as if he's thirsty for something.

"How desperate did you have to be to go from fucking me to fucking Tangerine?" August speaks in a mocking tone. You however laughed blatantly trying to make you feel inferior.

"Honey, you must have a really bruised ego. Tangerine and you are almost the same. And if you're wondering if in every way, yes is the answer." You say looking down, leaving no doubt you are talking about sizes. August seems more excited than angry at this moment, which confuses you a little. You expect a bad reaction, but it doesn't come. On the contrary, he grabs you by the waist and kisses you. At first, his lips touch yours softly. Afterwards it's as if you're missing each other's taste. Slowly exploring each other's mouth.

"You should never have come back into my life, you know that right?" August Walker speaks with his mouth almost glued to yours yet.

"Shut up." You respond, holding the hem of his shirt with both hands and then taking it off his body. He, in turn, lifts you a little off the floor, guiding you to the bed. It was almost as if his body had no weight at all. His hand quickly cupping your ass.

"You're still as hot as I remember." Walker whispers in your ear. You then kiss his neck, as if to say you liked the compliment. In the next second, August Walker is taking off the dress you're wearing and throwing it in some corner of the room. His fingers roam your face, and when his fingers pass your lip, you lick them lightly. Walker's reaction was to hold her face firmly but without hurting her and then devour her mouth with a kiss.

"I want you now." That's all you can say before you completely lose your lucidity as you watch Walker take off the rest of his clothes. You're obviously excited about the fact that you're going touch him again. Your hand passes lightly under Walker's cock, making him moan softly as you kiss his body.

"Lay down." He says dominant as he removes your bra. His fingers press against his breasts, causing a pleasant sensation of pain and pleasure. You let out a grunt when Walker's lips touch yours. He continues pressing the tops of your breasts with his hands while he is on top of you. Already your hands are busy holding his hair tightly. You then remember to grab a condom from the bedside. He watches you and seconds later he already puts the condom that was previously in your hand on his penis. He puts two fingers in your mouth and you suck on them, while looking directly at him. It's been so long since you two have been this close that you feel like you're going to explode. His fingers that were previously in your mouth are now in your pussy, almost causing a pleasant friction. His fingers enter you without delay, and you let out a few noises as you feel the pleasure of having at least a part of him in you. His fingers press into your pussy which is wet enough that he has no problem moving in and out of you.

"You...fuck me. Please." You sputter as you feel your body start to shake a little more. Walker smiles, kissing you next.

"Good girl." He says, taking his fingers out of you and pushing his cock into you. The feeling of having him like this was almost driving you crazy. You increased the pace of his thrusts and into you, as you held his ass to feel him more. His hands held Walker's ass so tightly that you could feel it would leave a mark later. But he didn't seem to care. He just thrust deeper and deeper inside you, as he kissed every detail of you, including your lips and mostly your neck. His kisses got deeper and deeper, as if he really needed you.

"Fuck. I'm going to go crazy with you." Walker says as you become a mixture of sex, moans and sweat. You can only smile, while mumbling disjointed words. You're reconnecting so easily that you don't even notice when you cum. But when he cums right away you smile. A smile of satisfaction.

"I can't lie. You're still one of the few fuckers who know how to fuck well." You speak while Walker is still beneath you. He then kisses you, getting off of you and throwing the condom in the trash. You weakly rest your head on Walker's chest as soon as he returns to bed. And at least at this moment, you allow yourself to sleep with a man who you don't even know if you can fully trust.

#august walker x you #august walker masterlist #august walker fanfiction #august walker x reader #august walker #august walker x y/n #reader insert #tangerine x you #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x reader #mission impossible #ethan hunt #spies au #smut #angst #henry cavill characters #aaron taylor johson characters #Spotify

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make-me-imagine · 1 year

Text

A Christmas Rose

12 Days of Christmas: Day 8

Part Two: A New Years Kiss

Plot: When you show up at 221B Baker Street with a Christmas gift for Sherlock Holmes, you are surprised to learn he has something for you as well.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Gn!Reader

A/N's: Obviously this is during the Victorian Era, so Christmas is celebrated a bit differently, so I didn't mention much about the holiday in general. Also idk if lavender roses were a thing in Victorian times, but go with it.

Words: 1.5k

As you stopped in front of Sherlock's door, you took in a deep breath. The wrapped box was held behind your arms as you stood nervously for a few moments.

Taking another breath, you quickly knocked, not wanting to lose the courage you had. After a few moments of hoping he'd answer quickly, or not at all, you heard the door lock click before the door opened.

Sherlock, upon seeing you looked at you with mild surprise before looking past you, you assumed to see if Enola was accompanying you.

Most times you saw Sherlock, she was with you. She introduced you when you ended up helping her with a case. Now you were her friend, and, even got along well with Sherlock. You were of course, head over heels for the detective, but you assumed he had no feelings for you.

"Y/n." Sherlock greeted with a smile "What a pleasant surprise, do you need help with something?" You could see a soft hint of concern in his gaze, before his eyes dropped down to the box in your hands, hidden somewhat behind your back. You saw his brow quirk in curiosity.

"Oh, no, I'm fine, I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No of course not, please come in." Sherlock pulled the door open for you to enter, and you felt a jolt of surprise. You weren't sure if he'd even let you past the doorstep.

Walking into his apartment, your eyes cast over the wall plastered in case information. Not letting your eyes linger, for fear he may not like it, you turned and smiled at him.

"I wont take up much of your time, I just wanted to bring you this."

Handing out the box for Sherlock to take, you saw him look from the box to you in confusion "For me?"

You nodded and smiled "Yes."

"What for?" He asked softly as he took it from you.

You titled your head softly "Well it is Christmas, more or less." You smiled, Christmas was still a few days away, but it was close enough.

Sherlock looked at you and you saw his lip quirk into a soft smile "Ah, yes. Christmas." You saw him look over to his desk before he looked at the box "This is quite fortuitous, as I...have something for you as well."

You felt your heart leap in your chest. You kept your voice calm though you were confused, and surprised.

"You do?" You voice came of softer than you meant and you were sure he noticed.

Walking over to his desk, he pulled out a small object from the drawer, before walking back to you and handing it over.

It was wrapped in brown parchment paper and tied with a gold ribbon. You couldn't imagine Sherlock wrapping a present, but the thought made your chest feel warm.

"Thank you Sherlock." You said with a soft smile as you looked down at the book. "You didn't have too."

"Neither did you." He added on with amusement.

You looked back up and smiled, shrugging your head.

"Am I allowed to open this?" Sherlock asked with a quirked brow.

You nodded with a smile "Yes."

You watched as he untied the ribbon that had been holding the box closed. It was long and thin, and you were hoping he would not be able to deduce what was inside.

As he slid open the lid, and you saw the way his eyes widened a bit, you felt a jolt of excitement.

Pulling out the long cane, he gently ran his fingers along the slick black almost porcelain surface. Grabbing the hilt of the cane, he unsheathed the sword that had been hidden inside.

His eyes drifted to you and you smiled "I know your's was broken last week when you helped Enola and I."

He had a soft smile on his face as he looked back down at the cane. There were delicate hand-carved markings on the handle, and along some of the blade. And he noted the small engraving of his initials as well. His smile widened as he looked back at you.

"Thank you Y/n, this is more than I could have asked for." You smiled and shrugged your head again "It was the least I could do. You did save my life after all."

Sherlock smiled as you shrugged your head, it was a common quirk of yours, he noticed. It was often when you were uncertain, or bashful that you did it.

Smoothly sliding the blade back into the cane, he tested the balance. It was impressively made "The craftsmen who made this is very talented, and takes great care in their work."

"Thank you." You said sofly and his eyes shot up to meet yours.

You shrugged again, "My father taught me at a young age. Though it has been a while since I made something like that. I'm glad that you like it."

He smiled and there was a glint in his eye you could not decipher "You continue to impress me Y/n." You felt your heart jolt at this. His eyes flicked down to the object in your hands "Though I'm afraid my present may be much more underwealming now.'"

You smiled and shook your head "I don't think so. Every gift has at least an ounce of important thought in it, and that makes it important no matter what."

He smiled at your words, he really did admire how you saw the world. Gesturing at the object in your hands, you realized he wanted you to open it.

Gently removing the ribbon and unfolding the paper, you saw that inside was a thick, yet small book

It was embroidered with various flowers, and had a hard fabric cover. Turning it over, you smiled as you read it. "The language of flowers."

"I recall overhearing you mention to Enola that you were interested in flowers, and their meanings when you learned of our mother's unique way of communication."

You looked up at him with a bright smile, and he felt his chest tighten at the sight.

"It's wonderful Sherlock thank you. I didn't even know where to being to find a book like this, and I did try."

He smiled, glad you liked the book. He felt his heart start hammering in his chest as you fiddled with the pages. He wasn't sure if he was ready for you to find what he left inside.

Hearing the clock chime on the wall, your eyes shot up, and he could tell you had stayed longer than you had meant.

"Oh dear." You said softly as your eyes met Sherlocks "I have to go, I'm late."

He smiled and nodded his head "I understand"

You turned and went to the door, Sherlock followed swiftly grabbing the door and opening it for you. As you stepped out, you turned back and smiled at Sherlock, holding the book to your chest.

"Thank you Sherlock."

He smiled and nodded his head "And thank you Y/n." Remembering something he stood up a bit straighter "I assume Enola, invited you to the New Years Eve party Tewksbury's family is holding?"

You nodded "Yes, I will be going."

He smiled and nodded "As will I. So, I will see you there then?"

You were surprised at this "Sherlock Holmes attending a party? How intriguing." You joked and he smiled.

"Yes, well, there is something there that will make it worth going, no matter my distaste for parties."

You wondered what that meant. Perhaps a suspect in the case he is working on will be attending?

Saying your goodbyes, you began heading down the street quickly. Aware you were running late, you couldn't help but begin to flip through the book again. You smiled as you did, excited to begin reading through it.

Noticing something in the pages, you opened the book, and stopped in your tracks. Within the book, was a small dried and pressed lavender rose bud. Gently picking it up, you stared at it In awe. It was such a rare color of rose.

Did Sherlock put it in the book on purpose, for you to find?

Looking down at the page, you saw it was left on the page about roses. As your eyes skimmed the page, you spotted the entry about purple roses. Reading the passage, you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

A lavender, or purple rose, means enchantment, wonder, and love at first sight.

Certainly Sherlock didn't leave the rose in the book. Perhaps it was owned by someone previously? Though, the rose didn't seem that old. And you did notice the way his eyes kept glancing down at the book as you fiddled with it. Did he know it was there?

He notices everything, he would have seen it in the book if it had been left their by someone else. And he would not leave it if it did not hold that meaning for him as well.

Looking back down the road, you debated going back, but decided against it. You were already late. You would see him again, if not before the New Years party, then there. You would ask him there.

xx End xx

Sorry for the abrupt ending, but I do plan on making a part two to this around new years (hopefully)

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Cavill!Sherlock Holmes Taglist: @multifandomfix-recs

#Cavill!Sherlock Holmes #Enola!Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Cavill!Sherlock Holmes x reader #enola holmes reader insert #sherlock holmes x gn!reader #enola holmes imagine #sherlock holmes imagine #cavill!sherlock holmes fic #enola!sherlock holmes fic #12 days of christmas #day 8 #christmas 2022 #part one #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #enola holmes fic #enola holmes

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marveldcmistress · 2 years

Text

Summary: Reader is married to Charles and pregnant with her/their first child. Having heard tales from the other ladies of court about their husbands taking mistresses during their pregnancies, Reader stays up at night taking care of Charles' needs and tends to the household during the day, leaving little room for rest. When hormones and sleep-deprivation take its toll on the Reader's health, Charles finally confronts her about her once strict self-care routine he had established with her.

A/N: This is based off the post I made on here a few months ago that I decided to just write myself. You can definitely tell I rushed the ending but there’s so much more than I planned to add to it. Enjoy y’all!

Charles was sitting at his desk, returning letters of business, when a knock on his door took his focus away. At the invitation of entrance, his secretary announced his lady wife's personal maid. She seemed anxious, not quite upset but not exactly scared either. Nervous.

“What is it, Elizabeth?” he says, her anxiety setting him on edge. She, besides himself, was the person closest to you. Her job was literally to take care of you. So if she was worried, she would be worried about you. He was already protective of you, but since finding out you were bearing his son (“A mother knows, Charles. I dreamt it.”) his concern for you only grew. You were always a little clumsy, but now your equilibrium is off the bigger your belly gets, and you refuse to sit in bed all day.

(“This is my house as well, Charles. And I will be damned if I do not take care of it myself. What kind of wife would I be if I did not keep the house my husband has so graciously given me?”

He'd always roll his eyes and say “I'd give you the moon and stars if you only ask.”)

He returns his attention to the maid, if something were wrong with you or his child he would do everything in his power to save you.

“Your Grace, I believe Her Grace, my Lady Suffolk, is ill.”

“What's wrong with her?” He stands from his desk, moving past Elizabeth and out of his study. She tries to follow after him, struggling to match his long strides.

“I tried to wake her this morning to break her fast, but she complained of a headache, so I left her to sleep while going to fix her meal to bring to her. She's been so weary these past few weeks. I do see to it that she is eating properly, for the babe. But as I am not with her at night I have no knowledge of her sleeping habits. Is she getting enough rest, Your Grace?”

Her question brings him to an abrupt halt. Flashes of memories pass by his eyes. Images of you naked, full in belly and breast from his seed, passion blazing like the roaring hearth by the bed. You had both been insatiable, you from the hormones (and let's be honest, your sinfully sexy Duke) and him from complete adoration of your changed body. He was absolutely entranced, your breasts were always soft but now they were heavy with milk, the rest of your body plush with motherhood. You were glowing, a shining star in his dark world of politics and betrayal. You spend hours making love, fucking, and everything in between.

To know that he may be the reason you no longer rest brings him immense guilt. He knew you had issues sleeping before you got pregnant, and you worked so hard during the day. He constantly tried to get you to slow down, relax.

(“Charles if I am not working I will lose my wits. I promise to take care of myself, as well as you, but I must stay busy.” )

And he held you to that promise. When not at court, he kept you both on a daily routine. First with breakfast, either at the table together with servants working around you, or naked in bed with tea, basking in the morning sun. He'd never believed more in heaven than those moments with his angel. Then you would reluctantly leave each other to go to work, you to the kitchens to help prepare dinner before moving outside. You adored your gardens, ones he spent a good fortune on as your wedding present. He would go to his study or around the villages, answering letters to the King or speaking with those under his rule. He tried to be as fair of a leader as possible, having been a lowly man once. You would both break for an hour to lunch, taking a quick roll in the hay before finishing any other duties. After dinner, usually spent in your room by the fire, you take a bath together. You talk about your day, the baby, make love, then finally wash when the water has gone cold. Usually you would then fall asleep in each other's arms, but with both of your passions being so high you would still be up for hours stoking the fire.

He felt so selfish. How could he have neglected you for his own sexual gain? He should have known better, your health was vital to his child's. For the sake of his sanity, you and his child must stay healthy and safe. He rushes even faster to your chambers, worry etched all over his features. He must correct his wrongs, for his wife and heir.

You startle awake when your chamber doors burst open. You were just having a dream of Charles and your son, strolling through the spring blooms of your garden. The babe was small, clearly just born, and Charles was glowing in the sunlight. Your heart couldn't be more full of love, your husband and your child in perfect bliss. You look to the doors, wondering what kind of commotion could have taken you from such happiness. Charles is rushing at you, the crease between his brows the only thing you can decipher before he is crowding your space, hands on your back to help you sit up.

“My love? What's the matter?” you ask, reaching to smooth the wrinkles in his forehead. Blue eyes bore into yours, full of anxiety. You always loved how expressive he was, never hiding how he felt from you. When he had first proposed the offer of marriage to your father, you were afraid to end up in a love-less marriage with a stoic, stone faced husband who wouldn't give you a second glance. After getting married, Charles had put together a private dinner in your chambers, where he discussed what he wanted from this marriage, and asking of you what you expected from him.

(“I wasn't the best husband to my first wife, for which I regret. I would like to change that with you.” ) That is when you fell in love with your husband. He was the exact opposite of everything you feared you would have to endure the rest of your life.

His hands coming to cup your face brings you back to the present. “I should be asking you that, dear wife. Elizabeth said you would not rise for breakfast. Are you unwell? Is it the baby?” he asks. The words would not stop tumbling from his lips, hands caressing your body in search of anything abnormal. When he saw no physical signs around your abdomen, he looked to your face. The dark purple circles under your eyes was proof of just how exhausted you are. But you are stubborn, and while he loves that about you, it can be frustrating at times. Like right now.

“I'm fine, my love. I just required a little more sleep today, I suppose.” you mumble, putting on a bright smile for him, though it didn't reach your eyes. He knew you well enough that you were lying to him. It didn't anger him so much as just heighten his anxiety. Why would you lie to him about how you feel?

“Elizabeth said you've been lethargic.” he tries to argue. You huff, turning your face away so he doesn't see the sudden change in your demeanor. You have been more tired lately. Between growing your child, keeping the house, and trying to match your husband's stamina, there was no energy left. Each day felt like a struggle, so much to do but no motivation to do it at all.

“I'm fine, Charles. Just a headache that needed some sleep to get rid of. Nothing to fret over.” you brush off his worry, standing to move to the wardrobe to dress for the day. What you don't see though, is the way he takes in your hunched form, your adorable waddle only so cute to an extent.

“If you insist, love. Why don't you take a rest day, stay in bed? The house is already clean and I'm sure Elizabeth can handle the kitchens.” The dominant side of him wanted to demand you stay in bed, but he knows that trying to command you to do anything is futile. He had tried to command you once, and you had laughed in his face.

“I can't today. My rose bushes need trimmed, the house needs decorated for the upcoming harvest celebration, and the menus for His Majesty's visit needs prepared. I have too much to do.”

Charles stood from the bed, knowing that trying to keep in you in this room would only lead to an argument, of which you had only had two in your entirety of your marriage. The first had been a mis-communication, if you were to ask his wife. He was not in the wrong the first time. You had been at court, attending a party while the King and your husband were “working”. A wife of the visiting French Ambassador was giving your husband eyes all night, raising something from inside you that you never want to feel again: jealousy. She was a beautiful woman, flawless skin and shiny, perfectly curled hair. You would have been quiet throughout the night, reminding yourself of the talk you had that night he discussed your relationship with you. You had heard of his infidelity with his first wife, he had even admitted it to you. But he had promised to be faithful to you, to never break your trust, all he had asked of you was to have faith in him. You had agreed, seeing no reason to begin your marriage with something as detrimental to it as trust issues. You had remembered that promise all night. Until she opened her mouth.

“You know, I took him from his first wife. I wonder if I could take him from his second?” she smirked behind a goblet of wine. You didn't know, but Charles had just walked up behind you, catching the very last of her statement. Your shoulders tensed, a fire lighting within you. Charles would always say there are two personalities inside of you. The quiet, obedient court mouse, who only comes out in society. And the fierce little lion out in the countryside. At court you portrayed the dutiful Duchess so well, he thought you were a different person when he finally got you home.

“Madame. I believe the man you met long ago is no longer the man you see now. But if you so wish to test my assumptions, please feel free to do so. Though I warn you, I don't like my judgment being challenged in such a way. So seduce my husband. I dare you.” you growled the last words, catching the attention of the King. Henry had adored you, admired the fire in your spirit when he visited you at Suffolk Manor, witnessing you putting Charles in his place in such an elegant way. Two pairs of blue eyes watched the interaction, fully prepared to defend you if need be. They both knew you could handle yourself, but with this being a treaty meeting between the French and English, they had to keep it from escalating to the point of another war.

“Mademoiselle,-”

“You may address me as Her Grace, or My Lady Suffolk. The man you knew before was of no title. MY HUSBAND, of whom you speak now, is a Duke. YOU, madame, are below us in class, therefore may not speak to us any way you so choose. Remember your place in this court, and remember mine.” with that you excused yourself from the table, not waiting for Henry's permission, leaving the dining hall and going towards the gardens, Elizabeth quickly following after. Charles turned to the King, gaining a quick nod before chasing after you. He got to the entry way to the garden when he spotted Elizabeth sat at the bench at the entrance of the hedge maze.

“She's in there, muttering to herself.” she nods to the maize. He runs in, and after about a minute of walking finds you pacing back and forth, mumbles spilling from your lips and hands flailing at your sides. He had never seen you so irate. The red in your cheeks and chest was so cute. He just wanted to eat you up, until you turned those fiery eyes on him.

“I can't believe you would sleep with a woman like that.” And for an hour he got a tongue lashing he hasn't had since he was child being scolded by his mother. You ripped into him, so much so that he got defensive. Before you knew it you were in each other's faces, voices loud enough you're sure the whole party heard. It was only when you both stopped to take a breath did you finally pay attention to the tension between you, when he grabbed you by the face and kissed you fiercely. That was the night your son was conceived.

The second argument he would admit was his fault. Henry had come to visit, seeking some isolation around company he could trust. And he had perfect timing, you had just found out you were pregnant. It was a joyous day when you told your King he would be the Godfather. Charles and you had discussed it to the fullest extent when the physicians and handmaid told you. If anything were to happen to you, either of you, your son would become the ward of the King. It would ensure he would have a proper education and keep the title of Duke of Suffolk. Everything Charles would have wanted for his children would still come to fruition. Henry demanded to celebrate, calling for wine and ale and food. You had eaten your fill, and as the night grew later, you got more tired. Charles promised to come to bed not much longer after, to which you told him you would wait for him. The maids had helped you dress and prepare for bed, giving anxious glances to you between dresses.

“You both have something you want to say, so please. Do not feel like you must tread carefully around me.”

“We all love His Majesty, as well as His Grace.” Elizabeth starts.

“And we know how happy you are, in this marriage.” Mary, the other maid, starts.

“But?” you ask.

“Well, as you know I came from court, Your Grace.” Mary continues.

“Yes, I remember. What about it?” you ask, slowly starting to get frustrated that no one is telling you anything important.

“Well, it was rumored that when Anne Boleyn was with child, His Majesty took a mistress. Most men of court do, when their wives get pregnant.” you tense in your seat. Your emotions had been almost uncontrollable since conceiving, and the ladies at your side bringing up one of your biggest insecurities was not something you wanted to deal with right now.

You dismissed the ladies, deciding to sit by the fire to wait for Charles to come to bed. You had heard the rumors of court. They were correct, most men at court took to adultery when they found out their wives were having a child. Some used the excuse that their wives were too tired to fulfill their duties. Some had said they did not find her attractive anymore. One had even admitted he never wanted the woman in the first place, but laid with her to produce an heir. You knew Charles loved you, it showed in everything he did for you. Keeping you fed with the best diet, clothed with the finest silks, and satisfied in the bedroom. But if you could no longer provide for his sexual appetite, would he look for someone else?

You waited for hours in the chair by the fire before finally deciding to lay down in your bed, on the edge of your side so as not give the impression you wanted to talk. You had been up all night panicking over your insecurities, and Charles had taken hours to come back to bed. Eventually, you drifted to sleep, only to be wakened by your husband stumbling drunk into your chambers. Your father had been a violent drunk in your teen years and you had prayed you would not land the same fate with your husband.

“MY WIFE!! MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE, WHO WILL BE CARRYING MY SON!!!” Charles shouted, startling you. He was too drunk to notice, falling at your feet unceremoniously. You watched, waiting for him to start yelling again, but there was silence for a moment, before quiet snores emitted from your lap. You look down at your sleeping husband, already starting to drool on your night gown. Confused, you tried to gently move him off of you, only failing at doing so and watching as he drops his torso to the floor, hearing a loud thunk as his skull hit the wood. You tense, waiting for him to wake up and start yelling, only relaxing when he remains asleep. Huffing, you proceed to the door to bring in the guards to help heave Charles into the bed. Once they're dismissed, you pull off his boots but leave him dressed, deciding to be the caring wife and heading to the kitchens for water and food. Your man was going to have one hell of a hangover. But at least he was a happy drunk. You could live with that. Until you saw the mess that was your dining hall.

Charles woke that next morning with a pounding head, and a very pissed off wife staring him down like the devil himself.

“I do not mind you having a bit of fun, getting drunk and celebrating our child. But if my dining hall ever, EVER looks like that again, I swear you will never get this cunt again. Understood?” He simply nodded, already going through the many ways he could make it up to you. Even His Majesty had gotten an earful, of course much more respectfully. The King had paid for the whole house to be refurnished, along with an entirely remodeled nursery for his nephew.

Charles smiles at both memories. Even the rough times were bliss with you. He knows this instance will be mild as well, once he gets to the root of it. He watches you dress and style your hair, catching your eyes in the mirror when you look back at him.

“You don't have to hover all day, Charles, you can go back to work.” You say. His stare un-nerved you, like he was trying to read your mind. He didn't need to know that you had purposefully been feeding his appetite multiple times a night to keep him from finding a mistress. If you kept him satisfied, he should have no need to wonder. It was exhausting, but if that's what it took to keep him faithful to you...

When you're finished dressing for the day, he follows you out of the room, arm around your waist, keeping you close to his side. This, you will not fight. You love being close to him, being wrapped in his warmth and his smell. He escorts you to the kitchens, setting you at a stool and telling you to stay. You watch him gather bread, meat, cheese, and some wine before taking your hand again and leading you out of the house.

“Charles, I really do have chores to be doing.” you say.

“That's why we are having lunch in the garden today. You slept late, so we will eat where you are closest to your first chore.” he states simply. You cannot fault his logic, so you follow him to the tree you both like to sit under. He sets down your lunch before taking off his coat for you to sit on. He helps you down, knowing that you were much clumsier the bigger you get. Once he knows you're settled, he drops himself beside you, pulling you into his side. You melt into him, finding the peace he so happily brings you.

“I know you said you have much to do, but I beg of you, my love, please don't strain yourself too much today. The festival is weeks away and the King doesn't visit for another month. There is still time for planning both.” he mumbles into your ear. You know he is right, harvest was still three weeks away and the King doesn't care about the menu, just as long as he eats.

“I suppose I can focus on resting, but it will not be confined to that bed, Charles. I want to roam, perhaps stay outside and soak up the sun.”

“That is all I ask.” he kisses your forehead before reaching for your lunch and starts feeding you by his own hand. You relish these sweet moments with him. When you both must go to court, he is usually so busy during the day that you get no time to see each other. When he must go away without you, you roam the halls at night praying for a wink of sleep.

You ate and drank for another hour before parting ways. As promised, you stayed in the garden, tending to your flowers and fountains. Charles kept an eye on you through the window of his study. He had the gardens constructed there for that specific purpose. He finished just as the sun was starting to set, having seen you come back only an hour earlier. He knew you were making sure dinner was being prepped to your cravings. You had been demanding meat lately, his hunters and farmers doing their best to keep up. You had apologized profusely when last speaking to the butcher.

“My wife was the same with our boys, give my congratulations to His Grace on his son.”

At nights you had been craving fruit, nudging him awake to fetch strawberries and grapes. He always went happily, even going so far as to start bringing them to the room before you went to bed every night. He'd also make sure to keep water and chamomile tea around.

After a dinner of roasted chicken (in which you ate a whole hen to yourself, he was so proud, you'd been embarrassed,) you bathe. He made sure to tell the maids to add special oils and soaps for relaxation and rest to the water. He started with a massage, going from your neck down your shoulders, before moving you and starting at your feet and ankles. They had swollen so much with each pound gained. You had started to fall asleep from his ministrations, so he quickly finished washing both of you before ushering you to the bed. He tucked you under the covers before joining you on the other side. You snuggle into his side before leaning up to give him a kiss. He kisses back, never one to deny you his affection. You try to deepen the kiss, hands running down his torso to his groin. You just passed his belly-button when he grabbed your hand and moved it back to your chest.

“Not tonight, my love.” he whispers. You recoil your hand as if burned. You don't give him a chance to speak again, rolling to face away from him and tuck the blankets around you. Charles is confused by this reaction, going to reach for you before seeing your shoulders shake.

“My love, are you crying?” he asks. You don't answer, simply moving even further away. You know it's childish, but right now you're too hurt to care. Everything you had been fearing has come to fruition. He no longer wants you, and it's only a matter of time before he finds another woman to warm his bed and wet his cock. You shrug off the hand he puts on your shoulder, and gasp when he grabs around your hips and pulls you back into him.

“Do not brush me off, my love. Tell me what is wrong.” he whispers. It was softly spoken, but a demand none the less. It was one of your own rules, to always speak when you were having an issue together.

“You don't want me.” you whine. He has to stop for a second and process what you just said.

“I'm sorry?”

“I said you don't want me anymore! You've pushed me away, and now you will go find a mistress and leave me with this child alone!” you yell. He flinches back at the volume of your voice, unsure what to do about the tears running down your face. He was never any good at comforting a crying woman, and he feared the further you get into your pregnancy the worse these outbursts will become.

“My love, where is this coming from?” his voice breaks, along with his heart. Had he done something to make you question his devotion to you? Your breaths start coming in quick rasps as you sob, and Charles quickly sits up to take action. He pulls you to his chest, commanding you to match your breathing with his.

“Breathe in, breathe out. You need to calm yourself, wife. Getting excited isn't good for the babe.”

His words resonate in your ears, and the thought of your baby calming you significantly. After a minute of calm breathing, Charles pulls away and put his hands on your cheeks, slowly lifting your face to look into your eyes.

“Tell me what is troubling my dear lady.” he says softly.

“The maids had said something to me. About what happens when a woman is with child. How husbands stop loving their wives, stop sleeping together and having sex. The man finds a mistress and leaves his wife to care for their child alone. Their marriage is over and I can't bear the thought of you never loving me.”

His cerulean eyes well with tears, they hang heavy on his thick lashes as his heart shatters in front of you. He knew these rumors were true, had witnessed the King himself doing so when Anne was pregnant. He could not condemn those men who did, for he himself had been unfaithful to his first wife. But to have his own wife believing such a thing of him ate at his pride. But before he could say something in retort, you continued speaking.

“And I know your appetite, for which I truly adore. So I force myself to try to keep you satiated, so you won't feel tempted to seek another woman. That is why I have been so tired lately.” you admit, so quietly he almost didn't hear you. At first he was angry. You were putting your health and the health of his child at risk for his sexual needs. He loves your devotion to him, but to do it at the cost of his child? But looking at the fear and anxiety in your eyes, he can't stay upset for long. He was validated in his guilt, it had been his fault that you weren't getting any rest. He made you feel like you could not say no to his advances.

“Oh god. Dear, my love, my sweet wife...” he whispers, kissing your face rapidly. You tense, confused as to what was happening. You expected him to be upset, accuse you of being insecure and crazy. You sounded crazy to your own ears now that you say it out loud. But here he is, covering your face and neck in kisses. Your eyes are wide, waiting for him to finish. He pulls back when you don't respond.

“My love. I adore you, and how you adore me. I love that you love to please me, I live to please you. You are bearing my son, the light of my life. I pushed you away tonight for your sake, so you may rest. It is time to start putting yourself first, my love. We can perform our marital duties,” he says those last two words with a smirk, “ during the day. I love you, and wish to have no other. I am more than capable of putting my needs aside so that my woman and my child remain the healthiest possible. I will seek no other woman, because I want no other woman. Do I make myself clear?” he says in a firm tone. It leaves no room for argument, yet still gentle and loving. It reassured you, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was yours. It was everything you needed, validation of your feelings and reassurance that your marriage is strong. You nod your head, putting your hands over his on your face and turning to kiss his palm.

“I love you, husband.”

“And I love you, wife. And I love my son, and any child we have after him. Now, it has been a long day, and you need your rest.”

He lays you both down, arm around your waist and hand on your burgeoning belly. He sticks his nose in your hair, both of you falling asleep contently, glowing with your love.

#charles brandon x reader #Charles Brandon #x reader #reader insert #fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader

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