#henry cavill slow burn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

viking-raider · 3 months

Text

Salt in Our Wounds - Chapter II

Summary-> You've brought the unconscious and injured man into your home. Now, you and Edmund attempt to get him medical attention, while figuring out who he is, and what side he's on.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 4.8k

Chapters-> I

Warnings-> PG: Blood, Language, Infidelity, Fluff, Medical Treatment

Inspiration-> Since my favorite demon, @littlefreya, asked so nicely. The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

“What are we going to tell Papa, Edmund?” You whispered, looking at him suddenly.

Edmund pushed his jaw forward and rubbed his palms over the steering wheel. “You just leave that to me, Peanut.” He replied, hitting the village round-a-bout. “I'll talk to him. What we need to worry about is how we're going to get his bullet wound treated.”

“Oh, no!” You gasped, feeling ridiculous for forgetting that.

“Relax.” Edmund cooed, turning onto your street. “I might have someone in mind, who could help us and keep their mouth shut.” He said, parking against your curb, instead of his.

“Who?” You frowned, blinking at him.

“Old man Tremblay.” He said, killing the engine. “He used to be the village's doctor, before his son-in-law, Thomas, took over for him. They both hate the Germans. So, I might be able to talk to Dr. Tremblay about coming over to the house. I'll say we need him to look at Pops. No offense to Thomas, but he's more comfortable with the old man, which is true. Once he's here, I'll explain the situation to him.”

“If he doesn't help us?” You asked, chewing on your lip, worried.

“Then, we'll wing it.” He huffed, shoving his door open and getting out.

“Wing it.” You sighed, your hands trembling. “Right. Wing it.” You gulped, getting out and meeting your brother at the tailgate. “What end are we picking up first?” You asked, quietly.

“I'll grab his top end.” Edmund replied, casually. “No need for you to drop the poor bastard on his head. He's got enough issues.” He sighed, climbing into the truck. “We all do.” He mumbled under his breath. “Go, open the front door.” He said, jerking his head towards your modest cottage.

“Fair.” You replied, scurrying over and pushing the door open. “Papa, me and Edmund are bringing something in! Don't close the door, please!” You called inside, before rushing back to the truck, helping Edmund with your load.

You slide him half off the truck, enabling you to wrap your arms around his knees and calves, before Edmund managed the rest. Shuffling across the sidewalk and turning, so Edmund went in first, you stepped over the threshold into the cottage, feeling the heat of the fire your father had roaring in the grate.

“What in God's sake are you two bringing in!” Your father griped from the sitting room, where he occupied his favorite armchair.

“I'll explain in a minute, Pops!” Edmund wheezed back, kicking open the door to the cellar. “You go down first.” He bid you with a jerk of his chin. “Your side vision is better than mine, so you hopefully won't stubble down the stairs, while looking over your shoulder.”

“That's fine.” You nodded, turning so you could carefully go down the narrow steps into the dark basement below.

It was slow and cumbersome, but you and Edmund made it to the bottom. You sat your package down and unwrapped him. There were no windows into the basement, so there wasn't a need to hide or conceal him anymore.

“We can't lay him on the floor, Edmund.” You hissed at him, quietly.

“We're not, silly!” He growled back, shaking his head. “Pops has a camp bed up in the attic. Go, get it and bring it down here. We'll set it up in the cellar, he can lay on it.”

Nodding, you went back upstairs, peeking at your father as you came up, but found, to your relief, he had dozed off. Going upstairs and down the hallway, you reached up for a cord hanging from the ceiling and pulled it, revealing a hidden, folded ladder, leading up to the half attic. It took a few minutes for you to finally find the folded up, military green and canvas, camp bed. Once you were back in the basement with it, Edmund had the cellar door open and was waiting for you. He put the bed together like an expert, having gone on countless camping trips with it over his life.

“That should do it.” He sighed, wiping his face. “Let's get him in it, then I'll go talk to Dr. Tremblay.”

“All right.” You sighed back. “He doesn't seem to be bleeding as much.” You commented, once he was resting in the bed.

“Seems so.” Edmund agreed, narrowing his eyes at the wound in the dim lighting. “Whether or not it's a good or bad sign is yet to be determined.”

“Then, you should hurry and get the doctor.” You urged him, brow creasing gently as you looked up at him.

“I'm going. I'm going.” He defended, holding his hands up. “Can't a man take a breather?” He asked, wide eyed.

You reached out and took Edmund's hand. “I'm sorry. I'm just-”

“I know, Peanut.” Edmund interrupted, shaking his head at you. “You have a heart worth more than gold, itself.” He said softly, bending to kiss the top of your head. “With luck, I'll be back soon with Dr. Tremblay.” He called, heading out.

“You hear that?” You said, looking at the man. “We're going to get you looked after. You'll be right as rain again soon.” You smiled at him, though you weren't sure why. “How about I grab you a blanket?” You continued to babble at him. “You might get blood on it though.” You frowned, biting the corner of your lip, but scurried upstairs for a blanket and pillow anyway.

“What's that for, Peanut?” Your father asked, still half dozing.

“Oh, I just thought the basement spirit would like something comfortable to nap with.” You answered, pausing at the basement door, smirking over at him, knowing he wasn't listening.

“That's nice of you, love.” He slurred, head lolling forward.

You chuckled, continuing on. “Well, my father now thinks the basement is haunted.” You quipped, lightly spreading the blanket over your new housemate, then gently tucked the pillow under his head, noticing how sweaty his unruly, but short, curls were. “You've caught a fever.” You cooed, turning your hand to delicately rest it on his damp forehead. “Thankfully, it's cool down here.” You said, using the cuff of your blouse to dab at his sweaty brow.

“I'll be right back.” You hurried back upstairs, to the kitchen.

You grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and a dish towel from its hanger. Tossing the towel over your shoulder, you filled the bowl halfway with water and turned to the ice box and chipped ice from it, dropping some into the bowl. You made two trips between the upstairs and the cellar, taking a chair down there, before taking down the chilled water, so you had something to sit on as you gingerly dabbed his flushed forehead and face.

“Well, whoever you are.” You said, balancing the bowl in your lap. “It's a right mess this is.” You chuckled, before introducing yourself, feeling silly just sitting there in the silence. “I hope you're on our side or Edmund is going to have us both shot.”

Some of the heat in his skin cooled as you lightly draped the folded dish towel over his forehead, making you relieved to see him not so flushed.

You heard the door upstairs creak open and the floorboards overhead groan as heavy feet strode and shuffled over them. “That must be Edmund with Dr. Tremblay.” You commented, looking up at the dusty ceiling. “I should go up and check on them.” You said, standing up, setting the now warm bowl of water in your place on the chair.

“Edmund?” You called softly, appearing in the kitchen, where he was standing with a short, gray haired man, dressed in a wrinkled, brown three piece suit.

“Sshh.” He hushed you, casting an eye towards the sitting room and waved you closer. “As I was saying, Dr. Tremblay, I've brought you here not for my father, but for another matter entirely.” He continued, his voice low so as not to disturb your father.

Dr. Tremblay's bushy brows drew closer together, reminding you of a caterpillar. “Is that so?” He hummed, bringing his arthritic hand up to his chin. “Then, what was it you summoned me here for?”

Edmund's eyes twitched to yours for a moment, you nodded at him and he looked back to the good doctor. “I know you have no love for our occupiers, Dr. Tremblay, like I, myself, don't.”

“Ha!” He laughed, his head tipping back as he grinned. “Fripouilles!” He spat, with no small amount of venom.

“I agree, sir.” Edmund chuckled, smirking. “But, to the heart of the matter. My dear sister here, on her daily morning walk along the beach found something—someone, washed ashore.” He explained, his voice calm and steady, revealing no emotion or opinion. “We're sure he's of our morals. But he's been injured.”

“Injured?” Dr. Tremblay frowned, narrowing his ordinarily kind, but currently and understandably suspicious, brown eyes at him. “Injured how? Show me.”

“I would rather tell you.” Edmund answered, biting his lip. “In case, you wish not to have any further dealings in this matter.”

“Nonsense!” Tremblay huffed, waving his hand dismissively at the two of you. “Let me see this man.”

Edmund didn't move for a moment, before nodding and leading him down the basement stairs. “He was shot in the side.” He explained, entering the cellar, where your guest laid.

“I discovered he'd developed a fever.” You spoke up from the door. “So, I applied a cool compress to his skin.”

“That was a good thing.” Dr. Tremblay answered, distractedly, folding back the blanket and resting his hands on the man's injured side. “Has he regained consciousness at any time?”

“No.” Edmund replied, shaking his head and looking at you.

“He hasn't.” You confirmed, nervously.

Dr. Tremblay pulled a pair of wired spectacles out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket, before untucking the shirt from the unconscious man's trousers, for a clearer view, and began fussing around the wound. “Help me turn him on his side, Edmund.” He bid, waving your brother over. “Yes, good. Very good.” He nodded, examining his back. “The bullet went clean through to the other side.” He said, indicating the exit area, just above his hip.

“Then, why is he still comatose?” You asked, concerned.

“He may have struck his head on something, while in the water.” He answered, allowing Edmund to rest him on his back, before moving up to his head and gently working his fingers through his curls, feeling for any bumps or soft spots on his scalp. “Ah, just here.” He smiled, finding a faint knot at the back, just behind his left ear.

“Well, get my bag from upstairs. I'll treat him.” Tremblay sighed at Edmund. “Are you squeamish, young lady?” He asked, while he pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down.

You thought of the Patrol Officer for a split second, before answering him. “No, sir. I am not.”

“Very good.” He said, crooking a finger at you. “You'll be taking care of this, when I'm not here to check on him.” He informed you, bluntly.

“That's fine.” You gulped, biting your lip and moving to stand beside him. “What will I need to do?”

“The dressing on both the entry and exit wounds will need to be changed.” He explained to you, calmly. “You'll make sure there's no sign of infection or the stitches I need to put in place have not come untied. As well as keep them clean.”

You nodded your head, somewhat apprehensive at the thought of doing all of this, but knew there was no other option, if you wanted to keep this man alive.

“You were correct in assuming he has a fever.” Dr. Tremblay said, lifting the damp towel and laying his hand on the man's forehead, feeling the heat there. “It's possible there's an infection in his wound from his time in the water.” He replaced the towel and looked up at Edmund as he rejoined the two of you, holding Tremblay's black, large and leather doctor's bag.

“I will show you how to give him penicillin shots.” He told you, taking his bag and setting it down between his feet.

“You mean with a needle?” You squeaked, startled, looking over at Edmund.

“Certainly not with a glass, mon chéri.” Tremblay chuckled, grinning at the contents of his bag.

The seasoned doctor removed an emerald, glass bottle of liquid antiseptic, a small package of silk sutures with a wickedly sharp needle, a tiny vial of a clear substance and a glass syringe. He laid them out on a small space on the bed, turning his attention back to the angry looking entry wound.

“Do you have any hand towels you could part with?” He asked, looking up at you. “It will help me clean these wounds.”

“Yes, of course.” You nodded, darting back upstairs and grabbing a couple of the dish towels you had that were in sad condition, bringing them back down as Edmund was wrestling an old nightstand into the room.

“Give him something to put his instruments on.” He explained to your expression.

“Ah.” You nodded, understanding.

Everything set up, you watched closely as Dr. Tremblay drew the milky antibiotic through into the syringe, pushing up the plunger slightly to remove any air, then set it aside and studied his patient for a moment, before letting out a sigh that sounded as if he was inconvenienced.

“We must remove his trousers.” He said, tapping his foot.

“Why?” Edmund blurted out, brows going up with surprised shock.

“So I may administer the shot to him.” Tremblay replied, with an air of impatience.

“Well!” Edmund started to protest.

“Men!” You huffed, shaking your head.

“Don't you dare!” He snapped at you, watching as you moved around the good doctor and removed the blanket you had laid over the injured man, but you ignored him.

First, untying his boots and dropping them at the foot of the bed, then reached up and unbuttoned his suspenders, followed by the button of his trousers.

“What if he's not wearing an undergarment?” Your brother protested further.

“Then, we will be finding out presently, brother.” You replied, shooting him a look as you tugged the zipper down, much to your relief finding the hint of white and blue striped shorts. “See, you're fretting for nothing.” You said, tugging the rough wool pants down off his surprisingly thick thighs.

“Possibly of questionable allegiance, but properly dressed.” You quipped, folding them.

“Watch closely, mon chéri.” Tremblay hummed and picked the syringe back up, with a practiced hand, squeezed the muscle at the top of his thigh and injected him, slowly pushing down the plunger. “That is how it is done.” He said, looking up at you.

“It seems simple enough.” You answered, attempting to appear confident in your ability to replicate it.

“Very good.” He nodded, turning his bespeckled eyes to the bullet wound on the man's abdomen.

Grabbing one of the hand towels you set on the table, he poured antiseptic on it and pressed it to the wound, eliciting one of the first major reactions out of your beached stranger with the stinging liquid to the open and bleeding puncture. He whined, brows drawing together as he shook his head, sluggishly lifting his hand. You moved back around to the head of the bed, hushing him gently and picking up the now wilted towel as it slipped from his forehead. You caressed his damp curls off his forehead and temple, attempting to offer some semblance of comfort as Dr. Tremblay continued to disinfect his wound and the area around it.

“You're all right.” You whispered to him, quietly. “We're just trying to help you.” You tried to explain to him, not sure if he could hear you or not. “You're safe here with us.” You mumbled, watching Tremblay set the cloth aside to pick up the needle and thread, you unconsciously took the man's limp hand in yours and hugged it to your chest.

“Is there no more light to be had in this room, Edmund!” Tremblay asked, leaning forward to stare at the wound in the dusky light of the single, naked bulb overhead.

“I may be able to find you a lantern.” Edmund replied, turning back into the basement and rummaged around the items, until he found an oil lamp. He shook it gently, hearing what oil that was left inside slosh about. “I found it!” He called out, before going upstairs, setting that lamp on the kitchen counter and crossing into the sitting room, where the once roaring fire was, but now only flickered.

He took one of the fire sticks from the holder bolted to the brick that made up the fireplace and lit it with one of the remaining flames. Carefully carrying it back to the lamp, Edmund lit its soaked wick and blew the fire stick out, before tossing it into the sink.

“Here.” Edmund sighed, setting the lamp down on the table. “I hope it's enough.”

“Yes, yes.” The doctor nodded, satisfied.

With all he needed, Tremblay squinted and made the first pick of the needle. The patient huffed, his stomach muscles flexing in response, but it didn't deter Dr. Tremblay in the slightest as he continued. You stroked his forearm and squeezed his hand, watching with an uneasy stomach as the old doctor made smooth sutures. Those sutures placed, Edmund helped roll him onto his side, so the wound on his lower back could be likewise treated with antiseptic and stitched closed.

“I will come back in a day or two, to check on his wound and ensure the fever has broken. Give him the next shot in the morning.” Tremblay said, arranging his bag and closing it. “Should he grow worse in that time, send for me.”

“We will.” You answered, staring down at him, concerned with the flush to his face.

Edmund showed the kind doctor back upstairs, while you gently tended to your sick house guest. Carefully pulling down his shirt and covering him back up, as not to leave him only laying in the camp bed in a long sleeved shirt and his boxers. Picking up the basin of water, you carried it back upstairs and dumped it out in the sink, refilling it with fresh water and a little ice, before taking it back to the cellar, resting it on the table. Dipping the folded cloth in the chilled water and ringing it out, then gently pressing it to his flushed and bearded cheeks wiping away the droplets of blossoming sweat at his brow.

“He's going to need some nursing.” You said, hearing your brother coming back.

“I can see that.” Edmund replied, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame.

“Is there any prospect of finding him a more comfortable bed?” You asked Edmund, looking the camp bed over, how it dipped under his weight, the only support were the ties that kept the canvas middle secure to the frame.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Between both houses, while Willa and I have a guest bed, that he's not welcome to, for obvious reasons. We don't have a bed to spare.” He told you, but saw the glint in your eye. “I could piece something for him.” He continued, stopping you from asking the question that was on the tip of your tongue. “Topping it with the mattress from my spare bed.”

“That would be better for him, I think.” You said, worried about the safety of the sutures on his back.

“Well, for now, it'll have to wait until tomorrow.” Edmund sighed, scratching the underside of his jaw. “It's your turn to make dinner tonight, by the way.” He reminded you, watching you fuss with the stranger as if he was someone you knew.

“I remember, brother.” You replied, catching the edge in his voice. “I got a good bit of minced beef from Remi last afternoon, with some Swedes.” You told him, dipping the cloth in the cool basin, then lightly laid it over the resting man's forehead. “Juliette told me a recipe yesterday as well. It's called Beef Loaf.” You stood, planting your hands on your hips and massaging the small of your back, sore from so much bending.

“I thought we would try it tonight.” You said, turning towards him, with a lifted brow.

“Sounds interesting.” He answered, cocking a brow back at you. “You should get to it.” He added, looking at his watch. “Supper starts in two hours. You know how the Major is, when dinner isn't prompt.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. “Yes, I do.” You replied, casting your eyes down to your soiled skirt. “But, I should change first. If he sees me like this, he'll likely ask questions.”

“Very true.” Edmund nodded, squinting at your skirt and just making out the stains. “Off you trot, then. I'll stay with our friend for a little while, in case he wakes.” He sighed, pushing off the door frame towards the chair. “You mind popping over to my place and grabbing my sketch pad, after you're finished freshening up? I need to make some figures on the shelves I'm putting down here.”

“Of course.” You nodded, picking the basin. “Do you have another lantern or oil? So you have more light to work by?”

“I believe so.” He frowned, slouching in the chair. “Willa can find them.”

Nodding again, you left back upstairs, setting the bowl in the sink and headed up to your bedroom. Sighing, you unbuttoned your skirt and let it slip in a puddle around your ankles, before stepping out of it and opened your little closet. Reaching blindly in for a fresh skirt, pulling out a wool, black and green, plaid skirt and slipped it on. Smoothing your hands over the garment, you hurried outside and to Edmund and Willa's home across the street, knocking lightly as you pushed the door open.

“Willa!” You called out for your sister-in-law, looking about for the slight brunette. “Lila!” You shouted, crossing to the back of the house, where they had a small garden, finding your sister-in-law there. She sat at a small table, slightly sideways in her chair, as she held one of her Debs Rose-Tips between her slender fingers, her eyes staring off over the garden wall.

“Willa.” You hailed, stepping out onto the patio.

Head jerking as she startled and taking a deep breath, Willa blinked several times and looked around at you. “Oh, it's you.” She sighed, rolling her hazel eyes. “What do you want?”

“I came for Edmund's sketch book. I also wanted to know if you had a lantern or lantern oil?” You explained to her, ignoring her look of annoyance at being bothered in whatever she was doing.

“Fine.” Willa huffed, standing up and heading inside, you following after her.

Willa opened a closet in the living room, removing a lantern and a bottle of oil, handing them over to you, before finding Edmund's sketch pad and his graphite pencil in the kitchen, motioning to them. “Will my husband need anything else?” She asked, with an air of almost callousness.

“I should think not.” You answered, taking the book and pencil up. “I'll have dinner ready soon.” You informed her, juggling all of your items. “If you're going to grace us with your presence.” You added, with an edge of your own.

“I'll think about it.” She answered, lifting an arched brow at you.

“Right, I'll have Edmund get you, when it's finished.” You said, turning for the door. “If not, I'll make you a plate.”

You were gently turning out the mixture of mince meat, dry breadcrumbs, fine onion, an egg, a pinch of salt and a can of cream of mushroom into your four by eight loaf pan, when your brother came tromping up the basement stairs.

“You'll wake the dead with all that noise, Captain.” You quipped, lightly patting the meat concoction into shape in the pan.

“That I will.” Edmund chuckled, moving to stand beside you, peeking over your shoulder to see in the baking pan. “Is that the beef loaf?” He asked, giving it a questionable brow lift.

“It is.” You nodded, sighing at it, praying you had mixed it all properly. “Now, it's supposed to cook for an hour.”

“Well, hopefully it'll look prettier by then.” Edmund chuckled, smirking at you, then brought up his sketch pad. “I finished up the drawing for the shelves down there. What do you think?” He asked, cocking his head at the dark lines.

Opening the blazing oven and grabbing the pan in a thick towel, you paused for a moment to give your brother's picture a look. “They look good, Eddie.” You told him, smiling encouragingly, bending to slide the pan onto the middle rack and shut the door. “How are we to open and close the secret door you've made there?” You asked, pointing it out, careful not to touch it so you didn't smudge the graphite.

“The lock is magnetic.” He replied, pointing it out in the sketch. “We'll put something on the shelf that'll connect to it, so when it's moved, the mechanism is tripped and the door swings up.”

“That's pretty incredible.” You grinned, enchanted by the whole thing.

“It shouldn't take me more than two days to build.” Edmund said, sounding as confident as he could as he examined the drawing a bit more, slowly turning away to head over to the kitchen table, seating himself to refine it a bit more.

“What are we building?” Your father's voice asked as he made careful steps coming down stairs.

You and Edmund exchanged a quick glance at each other and you turned away to mind the violet and dusky yellow Swedes that sat boiling in a pot of salted water top of the stove. There was a lump in your throat, waiting to hear what excuse Edmund was going to give your father for the changes downstairs in the basement. Neither of you really worried about him going down there, he struggled with stairs because of his advancing arthritis, choosing to sleep in his armchair in the sitting room most nights and only making the arduous journey upstairs to his bedroom when he needed to change his clothes or shower.

However any change to the house, seen or unseen, would draw his attention.

“I'm going to build some shelves against the cellar wall, in the basement, for her.” Edmund replied, calmly, making an adjustment to his plans. “So she can tidy things up a bit down there.”

“And what of the cellar?” Mael asked, shuffling over to his chair.

“We haven't used it once for anything since we lived here, Pops.” He chuckled, smirking at the old man's back. “Might as well close it up.”

Mael made a sound as he lowered himself into his chair, something between a dismissive grunt and a stiff groan. “Very well.” He sighed, settling himself and tossing his knitted blanket over his lap. “If it makes Peanut happy.”

You chucked, smiling. “It does, Papa.” You assured him, draining the water out of the Swedes pot and looking over your shoulder at Edmund, who winked at you.

Mashing the Swedes and getting them nice and creamy, you set them aside and checked the Beef Loaf. Opening the oven door and filling the space with a rather mouthwatering aroma, but the dish still needed a few more minutes to cook, so you shut door and started pulling down plates, setting them on the stove to warm up.

“Dinner will be ready soon.” You announced to Edmund and your father. “Do you want to see if Willa is joining us?” You asked Edmund, biting the corner of your lip.

Edmund took a deep breath, setting his pencil down and rubbed at the smudged graphite dust on his fingers for a moment. “I think we both know the answer to that, sister.” He mumbled, a hardness coming to his eyes.

“I suppose.” You whispered back, heart sore for him. “I'll make a plate for her.”

“Best bet.” He sighed, pushing his chair back and standing, moving over to the sink to wash his hands.

#henry cavill #Salt in Our Wounds #Salt in Our Wounds *Fic*#Viking-Raider Fics #henrycavill #gus march phillips #Gus x Reader #Gus March Phillips x Reader #Fluff #Blood #German Occupied France #World War II #Quasi-Slow Burn

89 notes · View notes

pascaloverx · 3 months

Text

DANGEROUS

CHAPTER ONE

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: For now, the fanfic will not contain explicit content, but it will be flagged if it does in the future. However, there will be the use of strong language and moderate violence. Readers are advised. 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 two

A dark night, too dark for your liking. You're the kind of person who prefers light to darkness, but life has taught you to adapt to your surroundings. Trained since adolescence, you became a great spy. Perhaps too great. One day, someone tried to kill you, and they almost succeeded. To this day, all you know about the hired assassin who nearly ended your life is his nickname. That's because he told you to thank the kindness of the tangerine or any other citrus fruit when you were in a hospital bed fighting for your life. In the end, he helped you. In order to disappear from the radar, you turned to a highly dangerous man named August Walker.

"Neighbor, you should come inside. It's too late for a young lady, even if you're a widow like yourself. Your husband surely wouldn't leave you alone, especially at this hour of the night." Mrs. Johnson speaks from the balcony of her house, which is a few houses before mine.

"In fact, my late husband didn't have much say in where I should go, regardless of the time, but thank you, Mrs. Johnson. I have a commitment with an old college friend, and I have to hurry to catch the last train." you say, trying to be falsely polite and quickening your pace; after all, you're really running late. Walker sent a message after two years of no contact. To be honest, you thought he was dead. But when a bouquet of red roses appeared on your fake late husband's grave, you knew. Walker needs you.

The cold night wind rustles the hem of your dress, which is neither too short nor too long. Fortunately, you decided to wear a coat that shields you from the excessive chill. The bouquet of roses marks the location of the meeting with Walker. In the city center, there is a flower shop named W. Flowers. Few know, but August is the heir to this florist. The new owner usually keeps the flower shop open until late at night, claiming it's for the sake of last-minute lovers. You hurriedly board the train, having purchased a ticket for the last available seat. Strangely, the seats next to and in front of you are empty. A chill runs down your spine. Something feels off-kilter. When you stand up, you see Walker entering the train with a dark overcoat that complements his expensive suit. He doesn't look directly at you; in fact, it's as if he's scanning every corner of the train before allowing his gaze to meet yours. Something is amiss. You act as if he is a stranger for much of the journey. He occupies the seat in front of you, indicating that he wants to observe you without interacting. A young woman with a child in her lap takes the seat next to August.

The train is about to depart, and no one has taken the seat beside you. You allow yourself to think that perhaps the passenger gave up the journey, or Walker intentionally bought this ticket, knowing that only the seat across from him would be left for you. You glance at him, and he seems uneasy. As always, his gaze says little. During the times you trained to become skilled spies, he was always praised for having a difficult-to-read or interpret face. You decide to gently nudge his leg with your foot, while the mother of the child tries to calm her restless son. He seems to understand that you need a signal, something to comprehend the situation you both find yourselves in. So, he drags his shoe to the exposed part of your leg and quickly forms a 'T' with the tip of his shoe. You swiftly grasp what's happening.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" A completely recognizable voice addresses you, and then he sits beside you. The man, as attractive as he may be, will always be remembered as the one who tried to kill you, now sitting next to you on the train. He is wearing a blue suit, adjusting his blazer while smiling at the child who has now stopped throwing a tantrum and has finally calmed down in the mother's lap.

You look at Walker, as if to say, "Fuck you." He handed me over to the citrus fruit. You get up quickly trying to escape. But Tangerine's hand holds your hand. His hand is firm holding yours, almost making it seem like we're old lovers or something.

"Honey, you should sit down, the train is going to leave soon. You might lose your balance." Your eyes are penetrated through Tangerine's blue eyes. A somewhat greenish blue.

"Thank you for your kindness, but I really need to go to the bathroom." You say, smiling slightly and then heading to the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your breathing is so uneven, your chest feels like it's going to explode. You only come to your senses when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

"Sorry, the bathroom is occupied." That's all you can say before having the bathroom stall invaded by Walker. As soon as you see it's him, your first instinct is to hit his chest. With all the strength possible. But he holds your hands and then pulls your body against his.

"I know you're angry and I accept all your anger. But right now, Y/L/N, we're screwed. We're in that psychopath's hands." He speaks almost with a beating, while still holding your hands.

"We're screwed, my ass. You screwed yourself and for a change you gave me away so you wouldn't be screwed alone." You know Walker too well to know he would do anything to survive. You think about opening the bathroom stall door but he holds your body against the door and finally lets go of your hands. You look into Walker's eyes before doing the only thing that comes to your mind. You pull Walker's face towards you and kiss him. A kiss that slowly intensifies, as you explore every part of his body with your hands. Carefully you notice that he has a gun on the back of his waist. You hold tight to his neck, bringing your legs up to Walker's waist. He understood that he should hold your ass and basically hold you on his lap. You lightly touch Walker's penis, which seems to be getting erect. Anything to distract him while you try to get the gun out of his waistband.

"I know what you're doing..." He says without breaking the kiss too much, which is perfect. You finally reach for the gun and then you bite down hard on Walker's lip. He moans loudly in pain and and moves away from you. Before he can react, you shoot into the air and turn to run out of the train, imagining all the passengers running out of the train as soon as they heard it the shot.

"See you outside." You talk running out of the train with the crowd. Leaving Walker behind. But then you feel someone grab your waist as soon as you get off the train.

"I'm glad you let Walker go, now it's just you and me." Tangerine says, smiling slightly as he guides you and you feel like you won't escape easily this time.

59 notes · View notes

peyton-warren · 1 year

Text

Blinded by the Fog Part 4

Characters: Captain Syverson and Reader. Mention of Jake Jensen and Cougar Pairings: Jake Jensen x Reader Word count: 3061 Type: angst and fluff Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. Loss of spouse and found family. drinking, swearing. Therapy/ emotional baggage type language. Vague mention of shitty childhood for reader.

Summary: Aaran Syverson effortlessly just became a regular part of your life. AKA Sy completely becomes reader's emotional support bear.

Author's Note: Therapeutic terms, emotional baggage, reluctance to ask for help and hesitancy to accept it in this chapter are straight out of my own mental health journey. Write what you know, right? Thank you to @adulting-sucks for her continued support, especially when I want to chuck this whole thing in the trash and never look at it again.

Ask Box: Open

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Part 3

Aaran Syverson effortlessly just became a regular part of your life, same as Jolene and Madre and Aubrey. He checked in on you each day over the next few weeks, always by text and usually also in person most days. You slid easily into a friendship with him, enjoying his company. And you didn’t find yourself unexpectedly at the bottom of a bottle again. Although you both skirted the issue of why you drank so heavily that day, Sy managed to keep you held together.

You even allowed him to help care for you, though some days you were more reluctant than others. As if he read your mind about your struggle with the overwhelming sense of dread at the thought of a lonely evening meal, you had dinner together at least once every couple days, depending on work schedules. Some days you cooked, some days he either brought food he then cooked in your kitchen or take-out, and more than once you shared food from Cougar’s mom after one of you checked in on her.

It had been mostly clear sailing for about a month after meeting Sy until you hit a rough patch at the end of a hard week of work. Things went sideways on a huge project, and you were left to pick up the pieces. You managed to keep your shit together until Friday, trying hard to neither crack at work nor in front of your new best friend. To make it worse, your brain repeatedly reminded you that Jake would have known something was wrong and how best to help you without you even needing to ask. This stirred up a huge uncomfortable knot of dread in your belly at the thought of going to your empty home. Your brain and heart swirled with that and so many other thoughts and memories of Your Forever.

The sun was setting on Friday as you sat in the parking lot at work with your head resting on the steering wheel of your car long after everyone else left for the day, your head pounding and your heart racing with the anxiety of going home to your empty house, having to face another night without Jake. The unexpected ring of your cell startled you, making you jump, and gasp, hand landing on your chest to keep your heart in your rib cage. You tried to catch your breath as the phone silenced only to have it ring again. You grabbed for your bag, pulling the piece of technology out to see Sy’s name on the screen.

Drawing in a calming breath, you answered. "Hey,” your voice was tiny, barely keeping tears at bay.

“Hey, you ok?" Sy sounded immediately concerned. “Where are you?"

You gulped back a soft sob. "At work." You kept it short and sweet, leaving out all the other details.

"Oh,” There was a beat of silence. “They need you this late on a Friday night?"

It was your turn to be quiet. Then you remembered.

“Oh shit!” you gasped, your hand cupping your leaking eyes. “We were supposed to….fuck are you at my house?”

“Maybe,” he confessed.

Tears flowed quicker as you realized you were a horrible person. Your self involved thoughts kept you from keeping your plans of pizza and a dumb ass movie. Sy didn’t deserve that from you, no one deserved that from you. “I’m sorry,” you barely squeaked out. “So sor-"

“Oh hey hey hey, sweets," Sy shushed you. “I get work needing you."

You sobbed louder into the phone. “No," you mutter, unable to catch your breath. “No. I’m sorry. I’m just sitting here. I can’t… I just can’t go home…not.."

“Baby, it’s ok.” You heard the unmistakable sound of his truck door closing in the background. “Really,” he continued as the engine rumbled to life. “Stay there and I’ll come get you, and we will figure out everything after that.”

Your head shook even though Sy could not see you. “No no,” you started to protest.

“Whut??” Sy yelled into the phone. “I can’t hear you.” He made static noises with his mouth. “I’ll be there soon.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as the connection went dead. Tossing your phone into the passenger seat, you flipped down the sun visor and opened the vanity mirror, looking to see how bad you looked after crying for nearly 2 hours. As you patted your cheeks with a spare napkin, you tried to make the red around your eyes disappear. You suddenly felt guilty for caring what you looked like before Sy got to you. You tried to reason with yourself that you would be as concerned if Madre or Jolene were coming to get you. You didn’t want to look like a mess in front of anyone.

A tiny voice in the back of your mind reminded you that Sy was an attractive man. You told that voice to fuck off, that attractive men had women friends. You needed a friend, and Sy wanted to help. You and Sy were friends. You were allowed to be friends with a man. You were allowed to develop a new friendship with someone your deceased husband never knew. There was zero wrong with it. The end.

Thy doth protest too much, the voice insisted.

The rumble of Sy’s truck silenced your inner debate for the moment. Glancing quickly at the giant behemoth entering the parking lot, you gave yourself one more once over in the mirror before flipping the sunshade back into place just in time as he pulled up next to you despite having the whole lot to park. You gave him a small smile as you rolled your window down, figuring he was going to do the same. Instead he turned off the truck and got out, taking one long legged stride over to you. You ignored your belly flip flop as he set his forearm on the roof of your car and leaned down, instead blaming it on the unmistakable scent emanating from him-pizza.

“You save me at least one slice?” you asked, teasingly, hoping to distract him from your panic attack and red tinged cheeks at the inner debate that happened moments earlier.

Sy smirked. “Only one.” He reached for the handle of your door. “C’mon, let’s go to my house, and we can eat pizza and watch a movie there as well as we can at yours,” he suggested, opening it. You had never been to his place in the time you had spent together, him always coming to your home. And you had to admit you were curious what it looked like.

You rolled the windows up in your car, and grabbed your bag and phone, stepping out. Sy shut the door as soon as you were clear and you hit the lock on your key fob. With a contagious smile, Sy stepped towards you, his arms open, looking to swallow you into his embrace. The panic suddenly swirled back through your veins with a vengeance. “Don’t.” Your hand wedged between your bodies, heart rate spiking, your breathing shallow. You didn’t miss the look of hurt that flashed across Sy’s eyes at your denial as he looked from your hand to your face. “I’m sorry,” you tried, your voice suddenly so weary. “I just… my shit is barely contained. If you touch me, I don’t know if I’ll ever stop crying.” You take a deep breath as you see understanding replace pain, your stance breaks, your body relaxing, your hand dropping. “And then the world will flood and it’ll be all your fault.”

“Seeings as my name isn’t Noah and all,” he teased you, redirecting his body to shepherd you around the truck. Opening the passenger door, he offered you a hand up into the truck that was bigger than all the vehicles you ever owned all rolled into one.

The ride to Sy’s home was mostly filled with comfortable silence. You could tell he wanted to ask what happened but he luckily did not. You were very thankful he was as he was, not pushing you to talk about whatever was going on in your head . You leaned on the window, allowing the cool of the glass to soothe you some. Your vision softened and you really didn’t pay attention to where you were going as you forced yourself to settle into the reassurance of Sy’s presence. He had you.

The pitter patter of rain against the windshield drew your mind back to the present. It was about then the truck pulled into what you guessed was a driveway, and you realized you had no idea where you were, even though it didn't seem like you had been in the truck all that long. Through the smattering of rain on the window, you were greeted by the cutest classic 1900s farmhouse.

“Oh my god,” you gasped at the home. You weren’t sure what you were expecting Sy to live in but now that you were here you had no doubt this was perfectly him. Clapboard siding painted white, simple porch with black wooden columns, black gingerbread accents, and black rocking chairs adorning it. With a beautiful lawn filled with trees and a smattering of well placed flowers and plants, it seemed like it was a picture ripped out of a textbook of American historical architecture.

“You like it?” he asked, not hiding his pleasure in your delight.

Forgetting about the rain, you opened the door to the truck to get a closer look only to be halted by the droplets hitting your face. “Like it? I love it!” you gushed, pulling the door shut, glancing at the man who seemed pleased as punch at your approval. “This is amazing!”

“You should have seen it when I bought it,” he joked. “Absolute train wreck, unlivable. Uninhabitable.”

“You did all this?” you asked.

Giving you a half smile that allowed a hint of dimple to appear at the edge of his beard, Sy seemed to dip his head in brief shyness, or at least humbleness. “Yeah. When I’m not deployed. It's like my form of therapy,” he admitted. “Making something old look new again. I like working with my hands. I did all of it but the electrical, that I called a professional in to do.”

“Aaran, this is amazing.” All of your troubles of the past week disappeared from your shoulders as the two of you got out of the truck and ran for the front porch, well ran as fast as your work shoes would allow you. Sy held the pizza above your head trying to keep as much of the rain off of you as possible.

Once safely inside, your amazement and awe continued. The interior was a mix of historic and modern, the perfect mix if you were honest. Toeing off his boots, Sy hung his keys by the door, and carried the pizza past you as you kicked off your shoes to place them next to his wet boots on a mat by the door. “Make yourself at home,” he announced as he wandered into the next room.

You glanced at the pictures on the wall, mostly family you assumed by the similar features of the folks you were looking at. You were staring at a photo of Sy and Cougar’s basic training class trying to pick the two men out of the crowd when Aaran reappeared next to you. “Any luck?” he laughed beside you, knowing what you were doing.

“No!” you gasped over exasperatedly. Admittedly it has been over 10 years and a lifetime ago. “Help me?” you ask, eyes never leaving the photo.

Sy’s finger quickly picked out Cougar, and you cursed yourself for not seeing the resemblance. “Maybe it's cuz he’s missing his hat,” you surmised out loud, making you both laugh softly. The laughter caught in your throat the following second as you realized your friend was gone, the levity getting wrapped up in the lump of guilt that suddenly appeared in your throat at the realization that you were having a pleasant moment when you lost your husband and your family so so so recently.

“They’d want us to be ok, they’d laugh with us,” Sy sagely told you with a soft voice, his fingers brushing against your wrist. “Hell they are laughing with us if you believe in heaven.”

You know his words were meant to soothe you, you know he had all the best intentions, but his sentiment instead made the tears reappear in your eyes, that knot of pain filling your stomach again. “Oh, baby,” he said softly, his hands wrapping around your upper arms, pulling you into his embrace. “I am sorry,” he muttered into the top of your head as you sobbed into his chest. “I am so sorry for your pain. I wish I could take it from you.”

The two of you stood like that for what seemed like an eternity until your replenished tears dried up. With an unladylike hiccup, you stepped back, wiping at your eyes. “God, I am sorry, Aaran,” you started, looking at yet another wet spot you had left on his chest.

“For what?” he asked. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” You looked up at him, and saw the wet lashes framing his eyes.

“Yes I do!” you insisted, pulling back further from him. “My silliness is making you sad.” You try to move away from him suddenly feeling very suffocating and embarrassed by your lack of decorum, ducking your head to hide further.

His face came into your peripheral view. “Hey,” Sy reached out and cupped the back of your arms, keeping you in place. “Look at me,” he quietly commanded when you refused to meet his eyes. When you did so, you saw his eyes swirl with emotion, several different ones spinning by in the sea of his beautiful irises. Irises that suddenly reminded you some of your husband, but yet different all the same.

Aaran gave you a small smile. “I lost someone I loved in that crash, remember?” Tears filled your vision, and you saw the same eddying in his eyes. “And your emotions are not silly,” he carefully insisted. “Never apologize for having emotions, especially around me. Never temper your emotions to make someone else more comfortable.”

You almost winced as he hit on a shockingly exposed nerve. “You sound like a shrink,” you teased, sarcasm your automatic response to vulnerability. All you had ever done in your life was push your emotions to the side, help others with theirs, but never address your own. You were never taught to properly express them and literally no one had ever given you permission to feel them either. Jake never forced you to hide them, but you realized now you never truly allowed yourself to be completely honest and open with him about them, the trauma of your own upbringing keeping you from showing any emotion at all, simply shoveling it deeper inside, hiding it from the world like a horrible dark secret

“I've seen enough of them over the years I should,” Sy joked, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes. “Here,” he abruptly changed the topic, holding out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. You glanced up at his face before accepting the soft clothing. “Thought you’d prefer to get out of your stuffy work stuff and be comfortable.”

With a nod, you tucked the clothes under an arm and reached for your bag. “Bathroom?”

Sy pointed you in the right direction. “You care what movie we watch?”

“Something mindless,” you said over your shoulder as you head down the hallway.

You reemerged from the bathroom about ten minutes later, dressed in your borrowed clothes, face cleaned of all traces of make up and tears. Hanging your clothes and bag on a coat hook, you meandered into the living room. Sy smiled softly at you from the couch, his eyes taking you in from head to toe. The clothes were too big for you, you were lucky the sweats had elastic in the ankles so you didn’t trip over them, and the shirt, it hung well past your hips.

“Feel better,” he asked as you sat on the end opposite him. He held out an open beer to you. Taking it, you nodded. “A little bit,” you admitted before taking a sip. “So, what are we watching?”

Grabbing a remote from beside the pizza box, Sy grinned. “Figured I’d go with a classic. Big Trouble in Little China.”

“I haven’t seen that in ages,” you admitted, grabbing for a napkin and a slice of pizza as he pressed play. You had to admit it was a good choice. You were both able to relax into a comfortable silence as you ate. Every once in a while Sy muttered along with one of Jack Burton’s lines of wisdom- “Yes sir, the check is in the mail” - making you snort softly, reminding you a bit of Jake and his own movie quoting habit. Soon you found yourself with a full belly, a relaxed mind and curling into the arm of the couch, your cold toes tucked under the edge of Sy’s thigh, his hand on your ankle, a blanket thrown over your always cold legs. It wasn’t long after Jack Burton (and Sy) announced that “If we aren’t back by dawn, call the President” that your eyes drifted shut. The week finally caught up with you, and you were quick to drop into a deep sleep, something you hadn’t been able to do since Jake left on the mission all those months ago.

You slept through the rest of the movie, hardly stirring a little. You missed Sy turning off the video when it finished. You also didn’t register him picking you up, carrying you down the hall and through the darkened doorway of a bedroom. You didn’t realize you had curled your fingers into his shirt when he tried to stand after putting you on the comfortable bed, nor did you notice your soft mutters of “Ni-night, Jakey” and “I love you.”

But Sy didn’t miss any of it as his heart broke just a little more for you as you happily hummed at his whisper of a kiss your temple to distract you as he gently removed your fingers from his shirt before pulling a warm blanket over you.

“Ni-night, baby.”

Part 5

General Tag List: littleone65

HC Tag LIst: @m07belzenenbelzen @used-to-be-bourbonwithice

BBTF Tag List: Mis-lil-red

76 notes · View notes

ghostwithakeyboard · 18 days

Link

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Original Work, Henry Cavill (Actor) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s) of Color, Henry Cavill Additional Tags: Romance, Drama & Romance, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Drama, Angst and Romance, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Depression, Male OC looks like Henry Cavill in my head Summary:

poi·son /ˈpoizn/ noun 1. a substance that is capable of causing the illness or death of a living organism when introduced or absorbed. 2. [CHEMISTRY] a substance that reduces the activity of a catalyst.

It's funny how sometimes one small mistake can change the course of one's entire life. I picked him, I chose him, and look how he laid me low. I had my life stolen from me, ripped from my hands, as I screamed my throat raw. And now ...

I knew what I was getting into. GlobeGen made the terms of our contract very clear to me. Debts paid for my clean genes and my fertility, for a marriage. And given my circumstances, I wasn't in any position to deny it, but I am not naive. I go into this knowing my chance for happiness is slim to none.

But there is still a chance...

This work, in its entirety, it belongs to ghostwithakeyboard and the owner of ghostwithakeyboard. This includes characters, plot, and setting. Do not export this work to any other platform e.g. Wattpad. Do not claim this work as belonging to any other entity than ghostwithakeyboard. If you wish to share this work, please do so only through the use of archive link. Thank you.

#henry cavill #original work #romance #drama #arranged marriage #angst #heavy angst #slow burn #filthy graphic smut #smut #ao3 #archive of our own

4 notes · View notes

freesketchgo · 1 year

Text

Conversation II - Meeting in Paris AO3 / Bruce and Diana go through some of the more important questions about the League, an important person from Bruce's past is mentioned, and Diana's thoughts during the Batman v Superman storyline are revealed.

27 notes · View notes

fictionalnation · 1 year

Text

I spent the weekend crying over a boy and thinking about the pain of being in one-sided love. All the pain has disappeared after watching the slow burn romance in Enola Holmes, I love that they show their instant connection- I think our society is fixated on time. I only spent about 5 days with the boy I am speaking of, yet I am very deeply affected by him. However- realising that even he thinks that time has an impact on the true feelings is absolute bc. And I realised I cannot be with someone who has such little appreciation for magic. Also, Henry Cavill. Dear Lord. I mean I have always been a fan, he is spectacular and jeez so incredibly sexy. Watching his character (fictional crush alert) but also him on screen was a reminder that there are absolutely beautiful, spectacular, talented men out their (or women / nb) who would absolutely deserve every second of my affection. For the first time in days, i have thought of someone else- Henry Cavill owns my heart, but I owe him for getting me out of my misery. And i owe the writers and creators of this beautiful movie for bringing out the joy in me again. Its amazing what art can do to your life.

31 notes · View notes

loopsisloops · 2 years

Text

@lucylaufeyson3 I’ve been holding onto these for about a month now and I think it’s time you should see them

Whenever I’m reading a toe curling, bed sheet gripping, tears streaming down my face, on the phone with 911 type of fan fic I scream about it on snap chat to a total of 2-3 people

Ladies and gents, “The Light The Dark and the Grey” series also Spoilers?

Personally!? I’m still not over “she didn’t come here as an enemy to the Allfather, but perhaps she’d leave as one.”

Like that entire chapter where she goes to Asgard with Thor

GAwDAMN

okay okay I’m done lemme shut up 🤧

#if this doesn’t get you to read this masterpiece idk what will #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #mcu #avengers tower #protective loki #tony stark #henry cavill #the angst is worth it #lots of angst #slow burn #like super slow and it’s amazing #ongoing

30 notes · View notes

omegaversetheory · 2 years

Text

Maybe.

I never write anything, and now it's summer so I thought why not. Warning, this one might hurt :( let me know if you want more of their story!

yes, it is set in an omegaverse, I just didn't mention it.

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

Ding. The bell above the café door rang as it swung open, and crisp spring air poured in, along with the lively sounds of the town as people began to start their day.

She stood there for a second, in the doorway, looking for him. Her big brown eyes moved back and forth before settling on his hulking body, squished into one of the café table chairs, cradling a hot cup of tea.

No milk and a spoonful of honey. He’s stayed the same after all this time. She thought as she tried to swallow her nerves and walk over.

“Hi.” She said.

“Hi.” Henry was quick to get to his feet, and brush himself off, quickly moving around the table to pull out the chair for her. For Rose. For his Rose. No, not his Rose. Just Rose.

Is it too much? No. he thought. No, I can get her chair, I always got her chair, even before-

“Thank you Henry I-“Rose began, as she pulled down her hood.

“No, it’s my pleasure, don’t worry about it.” He said softly as he took his seat. Had he been this sweaty when he’d stood up? Surely not. Right?

Rose laughed, a sound so merry, like the ringing of bells echoing through the hills, it filled Henry’s soul with a sort of zest for life. God, it hurt. “No, I was going to say I can’t believe we never came in here.”

Rose looked all around at the quaint little place, herbs strung along the walls, drying for later. The smell of sugar and spice in the air, the baker with his flour covered apron humming folk songs to his pregnant wife as she wiped a rag over the glass display case in the back. She laughed at him and swatted him away with her hand, blushing.

It was true, of course. They’d passed by this place, a real hole in the wall, so many times on their walks but had never thought to come inside. Maybe that’s why Henry came in, because it reminded him of her, and all of the things they never got to do.

“We did always pass by.” He said, taking a swig of his tea. “I wonder if we ever would’ve, you know, in time.”

“Henry.” Rose’s warm demeanor changed, she looked a little bit less confident, a little bit less sure.

“Maybe we would’ve finally brought bread to feed the ducks in the pond or gone to see the summer theater in the park.”

“Henry.”

“Maybe we would’ve finally gotten Mr. Gavolli’s recipe for his famous meatballs, maybe we would’ve slow danced to our song on the roof in the rain. Maybe we would’ve gone a new way, took a new trail, instead of following the same path we always did. Night after night.”

“Henry.”

“Maybe we’d sneak out, late at night, swim out into the middle of the lake, float on our backs, and watch the stars. Maybe it would feel like we were hurdling through the universe, a million miles an hour. Maybe it would feel still, like the Earth stopped turning, and it was just you and me.”

“Henry.” Rose was pleading now, her voice was quiet, those big brown eyes were even wider, and glassy too, tears balancing on her lashes, ready to tip over.

Henry didn’t know why he didn’t stop, why he couldn’t stop. It was like, now that she was here, sitting so close, the stars seemed to align and he could taste the life they could’ve had. So close, so fucking close, and man did it sting.

“Someday I would’ve bought you that big empty house in the valley Rose, except it wouldn’t be empty when we moved in. Painted it all up, a blue front door, a big comfy couch, just like we dreamed about.”

Now he had tears zig zagging down his cheeks. Why was he doing this? Why couldn’t he stop?

“Someday, I would’ve kissed you as we laid in the grass as you read to me, someday I would’ve told you that when you’re with me I feel like my heart grows eight times its size. Someday I would’ve gotten down on my knees and begged for you to be mine. And maybe- “

Rose’s tears finally fell.

“And maybe, that time you’d say yes.”

#omegaverse #angst #heart-hurt #slow burn #henry cavill #extremely loosely based on a real person #ie #i like the name #and i like using his body as a husk for someone else #sue me #heart break #romance #fanfic #a/b/o #deep omegaverse #if you like it ill write more #i might write more anyways #love ya #it's late at night.

11 notes · View notes

delicate-moon-princess · 2 years

Note

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

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

Revenge

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

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

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

Word Count: 1.4k

Any typos are my own!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was time for a little bit of revenge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can handle it.” He snarled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4K notes · View notes

viking-raider · 3 months

Text

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT > PART TWO

Summary-> It's a lovely first morning for Alexa and Henry, as they continue to learn about one another, and filming their new marriage gets serious.

Pairing-> Henry Cavill/OFC (Alexa)

Word Count-> 3k

Parts-> I

Warnings-> PG: Arranged Marriage, Language, Banter

Inspiration-> Nick and Vanessa Lachey’s Love is Blind on Netflix.

Author’s Note-> My apologies if any of the information on Alexa's T1 is incorrect. I'm willing to take advice. But there’s not many to do. I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

– The Honeymoon –

Stirring, Alexa no longer felt the engulfing warmth of Henry's body against her back and rolled onto hers. Looking to his side of the bed, she found it empty. Casting her eyes out of the mountain of blankets, she discovered her husband's silhouette against the sparkling sun, standing on the veranda and enjoying a cup of coffee. A sleepy smirk pulled across her lips, sitting up and brushing the loose strands of snow-white hair out of her face.

“Morning.” Henry said with a low rumble, coming to stand in the open door.

“Good morning.” Alexa greeted him back, stretching and sighing, feeling a bit jet-lagged from their flight, but nothing that would affect their day. “How long have you been up?” She asked, glancing at the clock on her nightstand, reading it was almost noon.

“An hour or two.” He answered, taking a deep swallow of his coffee. “I've just been enjoying the nice weather, until you woke up, so we could have breakfast.”

“You've been waiting for my lazy tush to get out of bed, to eat breakfast?” Alexa gasped, looking at him with surprise.

“I have.” Henry smirked, amused. “I don't mind. Besides, Riah called not long after I woke up, to tell me they'll be here at two, to start filming us.”

“Lovely.” She gulped, looking down at the blankets pooled around her waist, chewing on her lip for a moment. “Well, I'll get up and dress, while you order us breakfast!” She said, sliding to the edge of the bed.

“Do you want anything specific?” He asked, cocking his head at her, sensing an odd energy from her.

“Um, if they have oatmeal and whole-grain toast, definitely bananas, and a fruit smoothie, soy-milk.” She rambled off, heading into the closet for her clothing.

Henry smiled, amused at her appetite. “Will do, love.”

“Oh!” Alexa gasped, popping back out of the closet, stopping Henry on his way out of the bedroom. “No strawberries! I'm super allergic to them. Like, we'll spend our honeymoon in the hospital with anaphylactic shock.”

“Definitely no strawberries.” Henry shook his head, blue eyes big with concern.

Alexa nodded at him, then disappeared back into the closet. Henry came back a short time later, to find her sitting cross legged on the closet floor, a kit unfolded before her.

“What are you doing?” He asked, frowning down at her.

“I'm reapplying my insulin pump and glucose sensor.” She replied, frowning up at him, before recalling Henry hadn't been in the room nor awake, when she checked her levels. “I have Type One diabetes. I was diagnosed when I was eight years old, after getting sick. I'm sorry, I didn't tell you. I should have, but it's such a part of my life, wearing my pump and sensor, or pricking my finger and using my insulin pens, that sometimes I don't think to tell new people in my life I have it.” She explained to him, gulping.

“Unless it's someone that needs to know.” Alexa added, quietly.

“And your new husband isn't one of those people?” Henry asked, moving to squat in front of her, looking over everything she had laid out. “What if your sugars dropped and you got sick or something? I'd have no idea what was wrong with you. I'd have no clue how to take care of you. What dose to give you. What to tell the emergency doctors, when I rushed you to the hospital.”

The look of terrified worry on Henry's face formed a small, nauseous lump in Alexa's throat.

“Well, I can show you, if you want?” She said, smiling softly at him. “I just started this.” She told him, motioning to the equipment.

“I'd like that.” He replied, nodding and sitting down with her.

“All right.” Alexa grinned, wiggling in her spot. “So, I use this-” She held up an applicator between her fingers. “This is my Dexcom G-Six, glucose sensor and applicator, it pairs to my phone via Bluetooth.” She picked up her phone with her other hand, showing Henry the screen. “And an app I have on it. Through that, it checks my levels every five minutes. It tells me what my levels are, where they were and are heading.”

Henry nodded his head, listening intently. “All right. Where does it go?”

“It goes right here on my arm.” Alexa answered, using the corner of her phone to tap the back of her arm, before setting it down to pick up a single-use alcohol swab. “I need to clean the spot I'm going to put the sensor in, obviously.” She explained, ripping open the swab and cleaning the meaty area at the back of her arm. “While I do that, you want to do something for me?” She asked, cocking a brow at him.

“Of course, what do you need?” Henry asked, perking up.

“In that little pocket of my kit, there are over-patches—they'll help keep my sensor on my arm, they're different patterns.” She told him, with an amused smirk. “Why don't you pick one for me to put on it.”

Henry smirked back at her. “I can do that.” He nodded, pulling the five or six sealed patches out and filed through them, looking at the designs. “This one seems appropriate.” He decided, holding up a patch with cartoon-ish, blue, gray and black whales.

“Excellent choice!” Alexa agreed, picking up the applicator and pressing it to the sterilized area of her arm, hissing softly. “It's as simple as that really.” She said, setting the applicator aside, rubbing her finger around the edge of the initial adhesive. “Other than holding down on the button for a few seconds, to make sure the sensor and my phone pair.” She added, pressing down on it for a moment, then held her hand out for the over-patch, taking it from Henry and removing the clear film, to carefully seal it around the sensor.

“That one is done!” She giggled, wiggling her brows at him.

“I'm guessing you also have dietary needs.” Henry said, watching her fiddle with another device.

“I do have several things on my do not eat list, yes.” Alexa nodded, eyes on her task.

“Strawberries being one of them.”

“That's one of them, on the longer list.” She chuckled, looking up at him. “I'm generally on a low-carbs diet. A lot of sugary items and fried foods. Fruits, veggies, whole-grain, etc are great for me.” She listed off for him, watching the wheels of his brain turn through the blue of his eyes. “So, this is my insulin pump, Omnipod. It's a tubeless insulin pump that gives me three days worth of insulin, before I have to change it. My Dexcom and Omnipod talk to each other, so it knows how much insulin I need, without me having to do much of anything, besides making sure I'm eating and drinking right, and staying active.”

“That's great.” Henry nodded, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth as he watched her.

“So, this is a bit of a process.” She told him, opening a fresh Omnipod package. “I need to fill this syringe with about a hundred and thirty units of my insulin for the next three days.” She instructed him, opening the box with her Humalog insulin vial.

“You need to draw it straight out of the bottle?” He frowned, watching her use a alcohol swab and clean the top of the vial, before taking a syringe that was provided with her Omnipod out.

“Yes, unfortunately things like this aren't customizable.” Alexa answered, carefully twisting on the needle part of the syringe, drawing the plunger back, inserting the needle into the vial, then proceeding to draw the amount of insulin she needed into it. “Maybe, someday in the future.” She said, looking up at him, a small glitter of hope in her eyes. “Now that I have the insulin in the syringe, I just insert it here, into this little hole, and push it in, filling the pod for the next seventy-three hours and we wait for it to prime.”

“Where do you put this one?”

“I can put it on my arms, like my Dexcom, but on the opposite arm it's on. My thighs or my stomach. I usually prefer to have them both on the backs of my arms. But since we're on our honeymoon, I'm just going to pop it on my stomach.” She told him, tapping the screen of the Omnipod's control screen, recording where she was placing it, then stood up.

“It's easy standing.” She told Henry's expression, cleaning the spot on her stomach and securing the pod over it.

“Is that it?” Henry asked, as she sat down again, but leaning back slightly.

“No, now I need to let the Pod know it's in place, so it can insert the little tub that'll deliver my insulin.” She answered, tapping the control screen again, causing a couple soft clicks to fill the space between them, before a sharper one and her small jolt. “Now, it's done.” She smiled at him, taking an over-patch and securing it around the pump.

“That is quite the process.” He commented, shaking his head. “And you've been doing this since you were eight.”

“Mmhm.” She nodded, sighing softly. “Just second nature now. It's gotten easier over the years. Especially, with the new medications that have come out and the technology. So, who knows what science will come up with next!”

“A cure, hopefully.”

“That would be lovely.” Alexa nodded, a dreamy look on her face. “But I don't see that in my lifetime.”

“You never know.” Henry cooed, winking at her.

“True, I never thought I'd get married, and here I am.” She giggled, tucking away her equipment and zipping up her kit, before picking up the rubbish.

“What about your pens?” Henry asked, looking up at her.

“Oh, I don't need those, unless I'm not using my pump or my levels drop too low for it.” She answered, moving around him to exit the closet.

“But,” Henry climbed to his feet, following after her. “Why didn't you wear them yesterday, when we married?”

Alexa sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I didn't want them to be seen through my dress.” She confessed, biting her lip and looking at him over her shoulder. “So, I took them off and just monitored my levels though finger pricks and my pens.”

“And our flight home?”

“I was too tired to go through the process of putting them on.”

Henry sighed, cocking his head at her, a tender expression on his face. “I wish you had said something. I would have helped.”

“I know.” Alexa whispered, smiling at him. “I'm learning you're quite the attentive person, Henry Cavill.”

“I love taking care of those around me.” He replied, reaching out to touch her cheek with his index finger. “Especially my wife.”

“Mmm.” She blushed, nose wrinkling cutely.

The doorbell sounded, reminding them that breakfast had arrived for them. Henry opened the door for the room service butler, while Alexa headed out onto the veranda off the kitchen, making herself comfortable at the table there. Facing towards the glittering strip of beach and ocean, the call of seabirds as they swooped down for their own breakfasts.

“Isn't it lovely out?” Henry asked, coming out to join her.

“It really is.” She nodded, reclining in her seat and casting an eye over the trolley the butler was bringing out. “You picked quite the spread.” She commented, feeling her stomach rumble, looking over the plates of food.

Henry blushed slightly, taking a seat across from her. “Yeah, I get a bit of an appetite after jet-lag.” He admitted, nodding appreciatively at the butler, who stopped the trolley beside the table and excused himself. “That's a Mango and Banana smoothie from their menu, that I ordered for you, with your request of soy-milk.” Henry explained, motioning to the glass on the cart.

“I hope that's all right?”

“That's more than fine.” She assured him, grabbing her toast and oatmeal with a couple of banana slices in it. “They're both good for me.” She commented, picking up the cool and sweaty glass, taking a sip of the soy-milk smoothie and hummed with approval. “I don't remember the last time I had a mango, but that is delicious!” She smiled, setting the glass beside her bowl, then fixed her arctic-blue eyes on Henry.

“So, Husband, what do you want to do today?” She asked, picking up her spoon to dig into her oatmeal.

“I'm not sure.” Henry hummed, pausing in eating his fork full of his ham and cheese omelet. “We could just go about and check out the island.” He suggested, taking the bite and chewing, before sitting back for a moment. “You mentioned yesterday there's a lot of good walking trails and sites to see. Like, waterfalls.”

“Yeah.” Alexa nodded, mulling it over, nursing her smoothie. “We will have the film crew following us around, like lost puppies as well.” She reminded him, biting the corner of her lip. “Give us the moment to get used to them practically stalking us.”

Henry heaved a sigh, picking up the coffee pot and poured himself a fresh cup. “That's also true.” He replied, dumping a single sugar into it. “I'm used to a camera only following me around in a studio or a specific location. Not all day, every day. For every moment of my life.”

“For any entire year of our life.” She added, cocking a brow at him.

“Mmhm.” He nodded, sipping his steaming coffee. “Let's find a trail.” He said, digging his phone out of his pocket and pulling up Google.

Alexa slid her chair over closer to Henry and cocked her head over his shoulder to see his screen, watching him scroll through, best hiking trails in Tamarindo. “Oh, that one has a waterfall and a hot spring we could swim in.” She commented, pointing one of them out. “Be a good place to relax for a short bit, before we head back.” She suggested, looking up at Henry.

“I mean, I have to make sure my husband's old bones can make it back.” She teased, an impish smirk curling up the corners of her mouth as her blue eyes sparkled.

Looking at her, Henry pressed his lips together, his eyes both roguish and cool. “Ha-ha.” He replied, carefully knocking her with his shoulder, but grinned as Alexa giggled at him, resting her chin on his shoulder and hugging her arms around his torso.

Henry stared into her eyes, feeling his throat tighten with her body pressed against his, her smiling face close to his. Licking his lips, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, cutting off her giggle with soft and surprised gasp. Alexa's eyes flared, staring into Henry's, that were still open and looking at her, measuring her reaction to him kissing her. But she had done the same thing as she did on the altar the day before. Alexa returned his kiss, her hand twisting up the fabric at the back of his tank top and tugging him closer to her; her eyes fluttering shut.

Sighing softly, Henry's hand lifted to grip the back of Alexa's neck, pulling her against his body and holding her there as they deepened the kiss, lips moving slow and gentle. But it didn't last, as Henry got a creeping feeling of being watched and cracked an eye open, finding Riah stepping out onto the veranda with them, a broad grin on her face.

“The doorbell broken?” He asked, moving away from Alexa, feeling a protective bubble form in the pit of his stomach, resting a hand on her back, seeing Alexa's face flush bright red, hiding away from them, until she got control of herself.

“No.” Riah answered, unperturbed. “I used it. I just guess the two of you were too distracted to hear it, so I let myself in.” She explained, holding up a spare key to their villa. “Nice to see the two of you are getting comfortable with one another.”

“You can say that.” Alexa rasped, turning back towards the conversation, licking her lips. “So,” She looked down at her watch, then cocked her brow at the other woman. “You're early.”

“Yeah, we figured we'd come over and start setting up. Go over a few things.” Riah told her, unbothered as the cameraman from yesterday appeared from behind her. “This is Jesse, he'll be the cameraman following you around for a majority of your year together, unless something should come up.” She explained to Alexa and Henry, motioning to Jesse, who gave them a small wave and nod. “A large portion of the time, it'll just be Jesse filming you. Wherever you go, he'll be with you. Until you get home, that is.”

“Then, we get privacy, I hope.” Alexa commented, under her breath, picking up her smoothie to finish off what was left.

“Not completely.” Riah retorted, arching a brow at her. “We'll have at least one camera in all the rooms, but the bathroom, for obvious reasons. They'll roll until a certain point, then will be shut off and the footage will be edited for your privacy and the show's content.”

Henry glanced over at Alexa, hearing her quiet groan. “I suppose, it's what we signed up for.” He said, trying to sound confident.

“It's exactly what you both signed up for.” Riah reminded them, looking between him and Alexa. “So, what are the two of you doing today?” She asked, folding her arms. “Other than sucking face.” She added with a quip.

“We decided,” Henry replied, clearing his throat. “to go on a hike. There's a nice trail with a waterfall and hot spring we want to check out and enjoy.”

“Marvelous.” Riah grinned, excited to film the two of them on an outing. “Jesse will get set up and the two of you can just go about as if he's not even here.”

“Right.” Alexa nodded, staring into the bottom of her glass, before looking up at Henry, finding him gazing at her.

#henry cavill #viking-raider fics #Love at First Sight #HenryCavill #Love at First Sight *fic*#viking raider fics #arranged marriage #Fluff #Quasi-Slow Burn #Cute!Henry #type one diabetic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x You #henry cavill x y/n #Henry Cavill RPF

56 notes · View notes

angryschnauzer · 2 years

Text

By The Waning Crescent Moon

Summary: As an Omega you know you need to get home before your Heat starts, but when your car breaks down in the woods you need to seek refuge somewhere safe... surely a Convent will be the best place? Little do you know the nuns have long since left, only to be replaced by the worst possible thing; a pack of Werewolves. Even worse, its a full moon. Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sand Castle - Movie.

Wordcount: 4949

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Syverson x Omega Female reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Unprotected Sex, Desecration of Religious artefacts, Knotting, Werewolf Sex, Monsterfucking, Unplanned Pregnancy, ABO Dynamics

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

Henry Cavill Masterlist

A/N: This story has been stuck in WIP hell for a couple of months, i originally got psyched to write an entire werewolf gangbang, but then all the bullshit in the USA happened and yeah, forced pregnancy wasn’t at the forefront of everyone’s to do list, even in fanfic. Furthermore the wolf gang was originally going to be a biker gang, but another amazing writer @sillyrabbit81 has since launched a truly amazing biker gang reverse harem fic, i decided to shelve that idea and instead sit on the original thought of werewolves for a while. I then had inspiration to make this a Syverson story, so here we go. The Were sex scene is heavily inspired by the graveyard scene between Lucy and Dracula in Bram Stokers Dracula movie, which in my opinion is one of the greatest creature feature/monsterfucking movies in the history of cinema.

By the Waning Crescent Moon

You waited at the stop light, the remote intersection of two highways high up in the hills of logging country. It was dusk, yet the sky was hidden behind obsidian clouds, heavy rain systems waiting to release their downpours in sporadic outbursts. Despite the cold rain dulling the summer evening, you were burning up. You’d stopped at the last gas station and had stocked up on a huge slush drink and a popsicle, but neither had done anything to quell the growing warmth within your body. Sat in your flimsy sundress you were at least grateful that in a moment of optimism that morning you’d dressed for good weather, even if you’d spent the day wrapped in the cardigan you’d found on the back seat. However now as you felt a droplet of sweat make its way down your neck and cleavage, you cursed and opened the window, grateful for the cool damp air against your skin.

The red light finally changed and you muttered under your breath to yourself as you pushed your old Nissan into gear;

“C’mon, lets get home” you said to no-one except yourself.

The highway grew narrow as it entered the woods, just a single lane in each direction, tall cedar trees closing in on both sides. The rain wasn’t as heavy beneath the thick canopy above you, instead there were wisps of mist clinging to the roadway’s edge.

As you continued along you felt the first pang of pain in your stomach, a cramp that grew with intensity like an old lightbulb trying to illuminate but suddenly extinguishing.

“Oh fuck…” you cursed, resting your hand on your stomach as you rubbed to ease the ache. You drove on cautiously, ignoring the rattle that was emanating from the engine, your mind elsewhere. You had only finished your last period a little over a week ago so it wasn’t that. You could feel another cramp starting to build, your concentration far from the road. That was more than likely the reason you didn’t notice the pothole, the car shook and the suspension made a deafening thunk as you hit the flooded crater without pause. With a scream you pulled your full attention back to the road, ignoring the cramp pulling at your gut as you struggled to keep the car on the road, slowing gradually until you were able to pause. The sudden understanding hit your mind as the realisation of what was happening registered. You scrambled for your phone, opening the calendar and scrolling back to the cold winter months.

A cold chill ran down your back like icy fingers against your spine. Six months. Almost to the day. Six months since your last heat.

“Shit fuck FUCK” you shouted at the rain splattered windows. How could you have missed it? As another cramp hit your stomach you curled over and rested your head against the steering wheel, at which moment your phone chimed. Peering out of one eye you looked at the screen and the reminder that had just popped up;

*Heat starting soon!!!*

“Yes, THANK YOU. 24 hours too late”

As an unmated Omega you set yourself reminders for when your heat was due, coming every six months you generally made arrangements to work from home, and ensure you loaded your purse with suppressants and painkillers so to deal with the build up. It would seem this time however you hadn’t set the reminder early enough, as you had neither medication with you, but would also explain the hot sweats and the reason you’d woken up that morning tangled in the sheets after dreaming of faceless intimacy.

With a sigh you wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, before peering out of the windshield at the dark and twisting road. Engaging first gear you set off but were immediately reminded that something terminal had happened when you’d hit the hole in the asphalt, your car now leaning on the kerbside. For a moment you considered calling for a tow truck, but then the rapidly failing rational side of your brain reminded you that the truck would likely be driven by a man, and the last thing you needed when you were about to come into heat was to risk being stuck with an Alpha you didn’t know. No, you needed to try and limp your car home, at least close enough to town that you could call your roommate to come help, she’d know exactly what to do. You made it a good couple of miles at a slow pace, the road straight and gently downhill, until a hairpin bend meant you had to sharply turn the wheel. Something loudly went ‘twang’ like a spring being violently recoiled. It was quickly followed by the sound of hissing air, and the car dropped even further on the kerbside. The tell-tale thud-thud-thud of a flat tyre could be heard as you freewheeled to the side of the road, before coming to a stop on the gravel side of the highway.

You took a deep breath and let out a scream, yelling at the windshield, before your stomach cramps hit back again. They were getting closer together and you knew you needed help. Checking your phone hopefully you were still disappointed when you saw that there was still no service, more than likely due to a combination of location and the bad weather. With a sigh you stared out of the windshield and you noticed a sign on a wall;

“The Sisters of St Augustus’ Refuge” you paused, the synapses in your brain firing and finally connecting; “A CONVENT! That’s just women!”

Climbing out of your car you grabbed your purse and cardigan, holding the latter over your head in a vain attempt to keep the worst of the rain off as you started to trot up the long driveway towards the building that loomed on the horizon. You failed to notice the other sign that lay on the ground, one put up by the real estate company handling the sale of the building but has since fallen.

The driveway was considerably longer than you anticipated, and by the time you were halfway your pace had slowed, your cramps now even worse. The large wooden doors of the convent came into view as you staggered closer, the rain and sweat mixing and running into your eyes, blurring your vision. You stumbled, your no longer white Converses catching on a pebble, righting yourself before you fell flat on your face. Another two steps and another pebble, you were falling when suddenly a pair of arms caught you, the dark robes fluttering in the storm as you blacked out.

Sy sat back in his chair, his boots resting on the large table as he picked at his nails with one long claw, being able to control the change to his advantage. Walter was pacing the room, pausing to glare at the clock on the wall before returning to pacing. Sy let out a small sigh, the entire pack was antsy, anxious and ready for the turn of the full moon, however this summer storm obscuring its silver rays was turning the pack into an angry mess. August had wisely disappeared into the depths of the building and Sy was thankful for that, he and Walter would always argue over the smallest thing. Sy also glanced at the clock, his stomach growling;

“Where is Mikey with that takeout?” he muttered to himself.

A sudden increase in background noise caused both Sy and Walter to pause and look up, their nostrils flaring. August entered the room from the door that led to the private quarters, just as the large double doors to the chapel opened. The two youngest members of the pack came bustling in, Will holding the doors open as Mikey staggered along, his long black duster raincoat still dripping with rain, a now soaked bag of takeout hanging from one hand, but what caught everyone’s attention was what else he was carrying; a young woman.

The room fell into an eerie silence as Mikey stood still, waiting to gauge the reaction from the rest of the pack;

“I…I found… she passed out on the doorstep…”

There was a pause before everyone sprang into life, the men helping Mikey carry the unconscious woman in, Walter lifting her and setting her down onto the makeshift workbench they’d commandeered when they’d moved into the old building.

Sy’s eyes widened before he cursed;

“Fuck…” he dragged his hand over his face before clearing his throat; “Aug, Walt, gotta talk. Will and Mike, make sure she’s ok”

August simply raised his left eyebrow before following, Walter trudging closely behind as Sy pushed the door partially closed behind them;

“Shit, this is the last thing we need, especially tonight…”

Walter nodded;

“I agree, whatever she’s doing here, we need to get her out of here before the storm passes”

August stood in the corner of the room, his silence eventually what drew the others attention;

“August, you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet on this” Sy questioned

“Maybe she’s not an Omega?” he simply shrugged; “Could just be lost or her car broken down”

“Then why is she unconscious and reek of heat scent?…” he paused… “And why…”

Sy fell silent, all three elder members of the pack’s attention rising to the tall stained glass windows, the pale light from the full moon spilling into the dark room as the clouds started to part. A simultaneous chorus of ‘fuck’ sounded around the room, before they started to change, the moonlight triggering the lupine curse within them.

They grew broader, their shoulders filling out their shirts. Jaws clenched as canine teeth elongated. The flick of fire in their eyes started to burn as the silvery rays of moonlight spread throughout the room. At first they didn’t notice the wisp of orangey vapour that curled through the small gap in the door, but as it moved around the room like a lost serpent August was the first to notice;

“What the hell is that?”

Sy and Walter followed his gaze before noticing more tendrils of the vapour, watching as it sparkled gold and copper in the moonlight. Sy gritted his teeth and pushed back the urge to fully transform, the skill he’d accomplished once he became the full Alpha leader of the pack;

“Stay here” he all but growled, stalking towards the mist and out into the hall, the sight before him stopping him in his tracks.

The young woman was awake, but was clinging to Will as she nuzzled against his neck. One of her hands curled through Mikey’s hair, pulling him to the other side of her neck. Wisps of orange vapour curled around them, seemingly emanating from her.

“BOYS!” Sy barked, both younger men trying to turn to the pack elder, but looked punch drunk.

“Uncle Sy…” Mikey muttered; “She’s… there’s something…”

Sy crossed the room lightning fast, pulling both younger men from her grasp before pushing them into a ray of moonlight as it spilt in through a side window, knowing that although the moon would turn them, it would also clear whatever was happening due to the vapour from their minds. August and Walter helped the two boys up, both elders now having almost completed their transformations, the younger turning as they stood. Sy gritted his teeth again and pushed back the urge to transform, knowing four, five full Were’s would destroy this young woman, and that someone needed to find out what the hell was happening;

“August, Walter, take Will and Mikey, go run, go hunt, anything, get all of you out of here”

The other’s paused, seemingly torn between the draw of the full moon and the pull of the young woman, but as Sy turned and growled, his eyes flashing golden they finally retreated.

Sy listened, his acute hearing picking up four sets of padded feet running across the gravel driveway and into the woods, before he turned to her;

“What the hell am i going to do with you?”

You sat on the hard surface, the blanket beneath you doing little to pad out the cold stone underneath as you watched the hulk of a man approach. You could immediately tell he was an Alpha, strong and virile, he was extremely broad with thick arms and thighs, he seemed to be 250lbs of solid muscle. Beneath the scowl on his face you could see stormy blue eyes that sometimes had a flash of gold in them, and hints of red in his thick beard. Your entire body was sweating, desperate for the touch of an Alpha. The two young Alpha’s you hadn’t been able to control yourself from scenting with had done a little to sate the heat hunger burning within you, but as this beast approached you your body burned for him.

Reaching for him your body immediately calmed the moment your hands grasped at his muscled forearms, breathing in his scent as he looked you over. When he spoke his voice was deep but soft;

“Miss, i gotta ask, but what are you?”

“Just an Omega… and i fucked up, my heat started…”

“Then why’d you come in here?”

“It said it was a convent… Nuns are women… i woulda been safe here…”

The man let out a long sigh;

“Oh honey… this wasn’t a convent of Nuns… it was a refuge for Moon Makers” he looked you up and down; “They shouldn’t have put ya on the altar…”

You were confused, you had heard the term Moon Maker before but it was so long ago you couldn’t recall exactly where. It was as if it had been a whisper you’d eavesdropped as a child, of something mothers and aunts had gossiped about with a sense of sordid envy.

Before you could dwell on that thought the storm outside blew wild, the crack of a tree could be heard and as it fell to the ground it let in a stream of moonlight right to where you lay. Bathed in the silver light the tendrils of orange mist started to swirl with vigour, and the Alpha before you let out a groan;

“Sugar, i gotta see the mark…”

He pushed you back as he stood between your legs, his large hands on your thighs as they crept beneath your short summer dress, pushing it up until your panties were visible and the fabric of your dress was bunched around your waist. His nostrils flared as he picked up your scent, the dark patch of wetness between your legs drawing him like a moth to the flame, but instead he hooked his thumb over the waistband of your underwear and tugged them down just a little until he saw your birthmark on your hip.

“The waning crescent…” he muttered

“What’s… huh? Moon Makers… Waning Crescent… I don’t understand” you were struggling to concentrate through the heat cramps, pulling the Alpha closer to you as you’d wrapped your legs around his thighs.

“Moon Makers are a special kind of Omega… the only one’s strong enough to bear the pups of a Were… the waning crescent is the shape of the birthmark they carry… shaped that way as if you breed on a full moon you’ll know if you’re carrying the pups by the time of the next waning crescent… It’s old lore, there hasn’t been a sighting of a Moon Maker for, well, almost twenty five years…”

You pulled him close, not even knowing this beast’s name, but were drawn to him. You hooked your nose beneath his chin, his soft beard rubbing against your face and you could feel him shake with restraint;

“You’re testing big Sy to the limits Sugar…”

“Sy…” you muttered, his name like a syrup on your tongue; “Sy… i’m still an Omega, and i need your help. This heat isn’t going away… i need you, as an Alpha”

Nodding, Sy cradled the back of your head. He knew what he needed to do. He just needed to get you through your heat, long enough to get you back to your home. He also had a secret, one that he’d brushed over many times when his brothers had joked about it, but an injury when he’d been in the army had meant he could no longer sire any pups with an Omega. It was something he and only he knew about, not even confessing this to Walter or August, and it had been safe in that knowledge that he’d been able to concentrate on leading the pack, without the distraction of offspring. Countless Omega’s had warmed his bed, but he’d insisted it was never the right time, not on a full moon, not the right point in their heat. Right now though, he needed to fight off his hind-brain, the part of him that wanted the Were to take over. He didn’t even consider things would be different with a Moon Maker.

He pressed his face to your neck, inhaling deeply against your scent gland, the soft dip in your clavicle, and let your scent wash over him. You were grinding against him, the slick in your panties dousing the front of his old combat pants, the thick cotton straining against his growing erection. His lips brushed against your neck as he spoke;

“Will you let me taste you? Get you ready with my tongue? Sugar… Omega, you want me to eat that pussy?”

“Sy… Alpha, please… I need it. I need you”

You were desperate; desperate for relief, desperate for pleasure. You watched as his massive hands curled around your panties as he gripped the thin cotton before with a low growl he tore the thin fabric to shreds. Licking his lips he fell to his knees between your legs, his face between your thighs as his tongue found heaven. That long thick tongue dove through your folds, lapping at your slick as he eagerly tasted your essence. Your hands fell to his head, the short buzz cut soft beneath your fingertips, but without anything to grip onto you felt lost, unable to anchor yourself. As if sensing your need Sy lifted one hand to yours, curling his fingers between your own as his piercing blue eyes never left yours, all whilst his tongue delved deep into your velvet channel. The more you cried out and wriggled the quicker he fucked you with his tongue, bringing you closer and closer to pleasure before with a final wide swipe of his tongue you came with a scream, calling out to the stars above as white hot pleasure coursed through your body and lifted your soul. Sy eagerly drank down your slick as it gushed from your channel, growling at the taste on his tongue before you finally fell back limp on the altar.

He pressed a kiss to each of your inner thighs before he moved to stand, and you watched as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, before unbuckling his pants and let them drop to the floor. Toeing off his boots he was standing naked before you, his cock hard and rigid, thick and uncut, the knot at the base already starting to swell. You had been with an Alpha before but never one as big as Sy was, he was almost grotesquely huge, his girth as eye watering as the length. It was an angry red, his skin flushed and he was already dripping with need;

“Omega, I need you as much as you need me, you gonna let me fill that pussy?”

You nodded, and as Sy stepped forwards you saw there was hesitation in his step;

“Sy… what is it?”

“You ever been with a Were Alpha before?”

“A Were?” you shook your head; “But i want to. I need you Sy…”

“Not sure how much longer i can hold back the change, gonna have to be quick”

“I don’t want it to be quick, i want you… all of you”

What you were agreeing to was unheard of usually, very few had ever been with a full Were, let alone a Were Alpha, you knew the pheromones could drive an Omega crazy; “Do what you need to do Alpha”

With a growl Sy pushed you back, his body covering your own as his hands grasped your wrists;

“Hold still Sugar… need to tie you down so you don’t go flying off the altar”

“Altar?! Tie me down?!”

Sy paused, his face inches from your own;

“Say so now and i’ll stop, otherwise you’ll get as you asked and i will ‘do as i need’”

Swallowing nervously you nodded, wide eyed as you watched him pull ceremonial silk ropes from two corners of the altar beneath the blanket, tying your wrists in place. You could see his fight against the change was already starting to wane, his eyes burning like fire as his elongated fingers ran down your torso before grasping at your hips. He knelt between your parted thighs, pulling you up his thighs until his tip was poised at your entrance, dousing the bulbous head with your copious slick. With a growl he pushed forwards, stretching your tight walls as he slowly filled you. The pressure in your belly was intense, a white hot heat surging through your body as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. With your back arched you struggled to let your body adjust to his size, but then you felt the rough brush of the blunt tip of a claw circle your clit, carefully teasing the sensitive pearl from beneath its hood. As the moonlight poured down over your joined bodies you felt Sy start to change, of the Were taking over.

You moved your hips, realising you were now completely stuffed with his thick cock and eager for more, opening your eyes you let out a gasp, he had changed fully. Covered in a thick layer of auburn brown fur, his body was that of a Greek mythical beast. Though his features had changed, you could still see the same eyes that had burned for you just moments before. Shoulders as wide as the altar you were being defiled upon, which continued into enormous arms, thick with muscle as massive hands gripped at your hips as he started to thrust into you. You could both watch as he filled you before pulling out and repeating, his angry red shaft glistening in the moonlight with your slick before he’d plunge deep into you again and again. Each thrust stretched you so well you knew you’d be ruined for any other man, Alpha or not.

The pleasure coursed through your body, coming with a sudden force but the Were between your thighs just fucked you straight through it, now Moon drunk and high on the literal cloud of your scent surrounding the pair of you as you were carnally joined. With his biceps and forearms bulging the beast pulled you onto his thickening shaft repeatedly, his body arched as you were stretched on your tethers, legs bent at his thighs as you felt another orgasm chasing after the last. As your body squeezed him tight he let out a mighty roar, howling at the moon as you all but pushed yourself further onto him, your fragile body a plaything for his pleasure. Through the haze of lust and sin you felt the pad of his thumb move from your hip to brush over your birthmark, your gaze immediately drawn to his fiery eyes and you realised what would happen;

“Alpha, give me your knot, i’m ready”

With a growl the Were fucked into your plyable body harder and harder, pulling you to one final orgasm, and as that crested you felt the push and plug as he filled you, his seed pumping into you as his knot plugged you tight. Your scream echoed around the ancient chapel, and the world turned black.

A loud knocking at the door pulled Tina from her bed, glaring at the apartment as she strode through it, ready to give whoever dared disturb her at this ungodly hour of the morning a piece of her mind, but as she violently opened the door she was stopped in her tracks. In the morning light a hulk of a man stood on the doormat with you - her roommate - sleeping peacefully in his arms;

“Hey… I got her address from her driving licence”

Tina immediately scooped you into her arms, carrying you to the couch;

“Where has she been? Who are you?”

“Syverson… Her car broke down outside our place in the hills. She stayed out the storm with us but was up all night, she’s completely exhausted now”

Tina checked over your pulse and it was calm and steady, pulling at your eyelids which caused you to grumble and bat away her hands before you went back to snoring on the soft couch. Turning back to the giant Alpha currently standing in your doorway she held out her hand, to which Sy gently took it, surprised at how firm her handshake was;

“One of my brothers will bring her car back in the next couple of days if that’s alright? Got a lot on for the next two days”

“Yeah, that’s fine, but if i can take your number so i can check in, i know she drives a heap of crap but it’s still hers”

“Absolutely”

Tina watched as the enormous mountain of man carefully bent down and in neat cursive writing wrote his name and number onto the small notepad on the hallway console table, before ripping it off and handing it to her.

“I’ll… i’ll be going now”

Tina narrowed her gaze;

“You… you didn’t do anything to her, did you?”

Sy turned and met Tina’s glare;

“She spent the night” he turned and paused; “You might want to check her calendar, mentioned her heat is due soon” he let out a sigh before turning back to the doorstep; “Anyway, gotta go, the moon waits for no man…”

Tina watched him go, toying with the piece of paper as his truck pulled away, before she stashed it in her wallet.

A couple of weeks later you were irritable and snapping at anyone that crossed your path. The only thing that had gone right was your car had been returned to your apartment three days after your night in the hills, the suspension fixed, the engine running beautifully. It was like it’d had a complete overhaul by an entire team of mechanics. You weren’t going to question it as it was the one stable thing now in your life. The young guy that had dropped it off had practically thrown your keys into your hands, before sprinting off and climbing into a truck driven by someone that looked so similar he could have been a brother. You vaguely recognised them, but your only clear lingering memory of your time in the hills was Sy. You weren’t even sure how to even find him again, having taken drives through the forest a number of times but never able to find that same route again.

That night you were hungry, pulling a pint of your favourite ice cream from the deep freeze. You stepped outside into the warm summer night to eat it on the pallet wood seating Tina had built on the porch outside your apartment, watching the fireflies float into the air. After a while she joined you, a beer in her hand as she sat down silently. She was your best friend and had helped you through so much, but she’d been very quiet for the past couple of weeks, almost avoiding you.

“Hey Tiny” you used her nickname, one she’d very much grown out of after 5th grade when she’d grown a foot taller than you in the space of the summer break; “Everything ok?”

“Yeah yeah, i’m good… how are you doing? You’ve been… different recently”

You stabbed at the ice cream before setting it aside;

“Haven’t felt that great to be honest. Not sure what’s up, thought my heat was coming a few weeks ago but it seemed to end abruptly after i got back from…”

“Gotcha”

Tina looked up at the sky and you followed her gaze, seeing the thin crescent of the moon;

“Looks kinda like your birthmark, the waning moon…”

She didn’t finish what she was saying as you’d suddenly bolted to the bathroom, your retching clearly audible. With a sigh she rested her elbows on her knees… fuck, what the hell had you gotten yourself into? She’d been able to tell that Syverson was a Were the second she’d opened the door, counting the days back on her fingers she finally realised that you’d been with him the first night of the full moon, when its at its most powerful, and how your heat hadn’t appeared, yet she’d been able to pick up your bonding scent as you’d slept on the couch.

“What have you gotten yourself into?” she muttered to herself, the piece of paper in her wallet almost burning a hole in her pocket. She had sworn to your mother that she’d protect you, that she wouldn’t let you continue the Were bloodlines… but she’d failed. Now she had a decision to make… but first she’d go help you throw up, no doubt there would be another eight months of it to follow, the child within you already growing.

Pulling the paper out she held it between her fingertips as she stood, heading towards the bathroom where you were, you had a phone call make.

#syverson x you #captain sy x reader #werewolf sy #alpha sy #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #captain syverson smut #Alpha sy x omega reader

1K notes · View notes

peyton-warren · 1 year

Text

Y’all….. I mighta accidentally finished chapter 6 of Blinded By The Fog. Was not my intention tonight. Stay tuned. Currently in the hands of @adulting-sucks for edits. Likely be posted by this time tomorrow night.

#surprising my own self #blinded by the fog series #jake jensen x reader #captain syverson x you #slow burn #motherfucking slowest burn ever #henry cavill characters

5 notes · View notes

ghostwithakeyboard · 12 days

Text

#henry cavil #original character #british actors #romance #drama #arranged marriage #slow burn #eventual smut #original work #multichapter #trauma #depression #ao3 #henry cavill is so fucking beautiful i can't #any likes or comments are a gooddamn blessing #henry cavill x ofc #original female character

1 note · View note

medicinal-doll · 1 year

Text

Bedtime.

Title: Bedtime.

Daddy!Henry Cavill x little!reader

Words: 800.

Summary: You're throwing a tantrum because you're cranky cause you stayed up too late, but don't worry Henry will take care of you.

Warnings: ddlg dynamic,p in v sex,mention of choking/spanking,brat behavior,Dom/sub dynamic, degrading,daddy kink,pet names

A/N: Practicing getting better at writing smut and I couldn't find a ddlg bedtime for Henry with smut so here's this

*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me

.............

"No!" you scream as Henry holds you securely against his burly frame.Taking you from your pink playroom.

"Not a dolly princess.." you sniffle watching your toys and stuffies disappear from your view.

"Don' wanna go night night!"

You kick and scream, though your hits do no effective damage.

Henry sighs at your tantrum and gently pats your butt encouraging you to stop yelling at this time of night.

You always get cranky when you stay up this late, which is why he set a strict bedtime for you.But your little doe eyes got the best of him tonight, His mistake.

"Aaahh!-" you yell obnoxiously.

Okay... now you're just being annoying. Henry rolls his eyes at your antics.

"C'mon honey shhh" he encourages you softly, bouncing you gently in his arms.

"I told you baby" he coos at you. "You need your little girl rest sweetie, but you didn't want to listen to daddy"

His reasoning doesn't quell your sobs and frustration at all.

"Put me down! don't wanna go..." You cry but Henry picks up on your blatant lying.

"We do this everytime princess... you're just a little baby honey" he talks to you in that warm loving tone that makes you shy.

" you need your sleep doll" he whispers softly placing a kiss to the side of your head.

"Or you'll get all cranky and upset and start throwing tantrums at daddy like you are now"

You sniffle, Slightly embarrassed and aware of your unnecessary outburst. But it doesn't stop you from whining.

"Don't wanna go...." you mumble to yourself.

It's your last attempt at fighting him before your littlest sleepy self takes the place of any hostility you have left in you.

"I know baby, I know." He says in a soothing tone.

"just let daddy take care of you princess okay?"

You nod at him, whines still leaving your mouth. those being the last remnants of your fit.Henry rubs your back in slow circles patting your butt lovingly while carrying you up the stairs.

He sets you on the bed gently, and you start to act up again. But then he gives you that stern dominant look that warns you not to test him, and you shut right up and wait patiently like a good girl.

Henry removes his shirt revealing his beefy chest and toned abs, dark chest hair decorating his warm skin.

You lay back on the bed. A new feeling taking control of you, a docile feeling that makes you burn with desire.

You dip your hands between your legs touching yourself sensually.

You aren't allowed to touch.Not without your owners permission, but seeing as you've already pissed him off for the night and the lustful look he's giving you right now. He doesn't seem to mind.

Even if he did you're in such a mood, he'd have to physically restrain you in order for you to stop.

You rub your fingers over your clit, making sure to give your daddy a good look at your cute little princess parts.Eyes glinting in pleasure as wet dews of arousal make your pussy glisten in the warm light of the bedroom.

You whimper softly in that high pitched tone you know drives your daddy fucking insane.

You flick your clit faster, eyefucking your sir.

"Please daddy....fuck me" you whine out.

"I'll be good now, I'll go to bed promise"

You moan arching your back off of the covers winding your hips against the soft sheets.

"Just please give me your cock..."

Henry prides himself on being A good daddy that upholds the rules. But god damn it, you don't know what you do to him. And if it wasn't for the very visible bulge peeking from his boxers, he might've been able to resist the temptation.

He climbs on top of you giving into his carnal desires.

You look at him face flushed, all pouty and submissive.

"Please daddy I can't take it anymore-"

"I need you in me"

"I need my daddy"

At those last words you cling to him, nails slightly digging into the warm flesh of his bicep.

Henry quickly frees his cock from his boxers, it being just as needy and swollen as yours.

He rubs his length up and down your drooling pussy, coating it in your wet heat.

You grip on him tighter.

"Please..."

He looks at you with animalistic eyes.

"Please what..." He says darkly as his cock teases your entrance.

You pout impatiently. "please fuck me da- Ah!"

He sheathes himself in your slick warm pussy fully, groaning at the tightness wrapped around him.

"Fuck baby...mm" he grunts deeply.

Henry pulls out then ruts back in and you yelp.

"Gonna breed you so fucking good..fuck" he says in a low groan.

You whine as he slowly starts moving his hips against yours.Soft sobs spilling from your lips as his fat cockhead rubs against the sensitive ridges in your vagina.

"Please daddy ruin me" you beg.

"Fuck my little girl hole till I scream..."

He plants the gentlest kiss to your lips before slamming his hips into you.Harshly driving his dick in your cunt, exploring it shamelessly.

"Ah! Fuck!-" His cock slaps against your wet walls as lustful sounds fill the room.He's so fucking big, you think you'll break if he goes any deeper.

"Daddy! Fuck-"He smacks your ass in warning and you cry out.

"Ah!"

"The fuck did I tell you about cursing hm?"

"You needy slut, you just don't know when to listen do you"

You cry at his harsh words when in reality they only make you wetter.Your arousal dripping all over him, drenching his cock and balls.

Henry grabs you by the throat choking you against the pillow.

"You fucking like it when I treat you like a slut don't you"

He rams his cock in you making you so fucking sensitive your legs start shaking around him in pleasure as his meaty hips bounce against your thighs.So rough you can't think straight.

"No! Not a slut!" You shake your head at him.

"No?.." He questions in a deep voice.Eyes gaining a sadistic tinge to them, As he grabs you flipping you on your tummy.

"Then I guess you don't like when I fuck you like this then huh"

He takes your little pussy from behind pounding you like the good little cock whore you are,his dick reaching those deep intimate places that drive you crazy.You moan embarrassingly loud as he drives his hips against your weak spot.

"Ah! Daddy please I'm sorry!" you cry out in pleasure.

Henry laughs at how how you're such a shy bunny but you're so fucking loud when he gets his hands on you.

"That's right baby you should be fucking sorry" he grunts, vigorously thrusting into your hot pussy.

"But don't worry hun, daddy's gonna make sure you get to bed on time every. fucking. night."

He fucks into you after every pause your walls fluttering around his dick gripping at every vein sucking his cock back into your soaked cunt.

He grabs your face squishing your cheeks together and whispering in your ear.

"If daddy promises to keep fucking you like this before bedtime, you're gonna be a good little girl for me aren't you baby?"

Your minds fucking gone but you agree to whatever the hell he's saying, too cock drunk to comprehend anything but him pounding your little cunt raw.

"Yes daddy! Ill be good I'll be good fuck fuck fuck fuck-." You scream his cock and balls slapping against your lips at a fast sloppy pace.It all feeling so fucking good and too much for you at the same time.

His hips hit your spot repeatedly and you scream as Henry's white cream explodes into your little womb.your eyes roll to the back of your head, your blush spreading to your entire face.

"Daddy.." you whimper at his hot milk entering you.

His head dips down resting on your back, his soft breath against your ear.

"What did I just say about cursing..." He asks slightly out of breath.

Oops.

"Sorry daddy it felt too good" you plead.

You turn and wrap yourself in his embrace.

"Couldn't help it...."

He sighs pulling you deeper into his big arms.

"That's alright bunny"

"Daddy just has to be better about disciplining you about that, and your bedtime"

You just nod, snuggling against the comfort of his muscular chest in acceptance.

Henry chuckles and smiles at your cuteness, petting your hair softly as you both drift off to sleep.

#little reader smut #x little!reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x little!reader #daddy!henry #daddy!henry cavill x little!reader

247 notes · View notes