inthenameofcavill

[inthenameofcavill]

The light side of the night - part 6

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Summary: Walter and you try to deal with what happened on your business trip. Resolutions are made. And resolutions are broken. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: ca. 8k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, angst, fluff, smut, heartache, discussion of contraception, mention of alcohol, mention of homicide (vague details), mutual pining, BDSM, Dom!Walter, Sub!Reader, mention of sex toys, restraints, nipple play, oral (f receiving), edging, vaginal tongue fuck, p in v sex, creampie, cum play, tasting of body fluids.

A/N: The previous chapter was long for my standards. This one is longer :) But somehow, it felt like it needed to be posted in one go. There are some dividers in this chapter that might be helpful if you prefer to read several shorter parts. 

Feedback means the world to me, and I’d love to hear what you think! Thank you so much for reading! 💕

Not beta’d, and English is not my native language, so you’d better be prepared for mistakes.

This was edited while I'm waiting for my daughter's stomach bug to get me, too. 🙈 Maybe there will be more mistakes than usual but I wanted to get this out before I'll be out of order.

Dividers: by @firefly-graphics

When the storm is over, you lean your head on the mattress, exhausted. He remains buried inside you, your wrists still captured in his hands. Then he carefully loosens his iron grip, caressing your soft skin with his thumbs. Slowly, like in slow-motion, he lets his head sink down on your shoulder, burying his face in your neck, taking deep and shaky breaths. Your heart flutters when he presses gentle kisses onto your sweaty skin, and you wish, you wish so desperately that this would never end.

But we don't always get what we wish for, don't we?

Walter presses his lips right on that sensitive spot under your ear. A wild tingle spreads through your body as he sucks a hickey into your neck, his teeth scraping your skin. You tilt your head as you close your eyes with a sigh, savoring that sensation. Then, he withdraws himself from your heat as his mouth glides off your neck with a small ‘pop’. Another gentle kiss on the same spot. A nudge with his nose. A brush of his lips. The prickle of his beard on your neck. The touch of his breath on your skin. 

Then, he lies down next to you, staring at the ceiling, and you can’t help but feel somehow empty at the sudden lack of his touch. You notice only marginally that your hand grabs the bedsheet as you fight the urge to reach out for him. How is it possible to miss someone who is still there, lying right next to you?

For a moment, you lie next to each other, listening to each other’s breathing. And with every breath, more tension fills the room. Uncertainty and unspoken feelings hang heavy in the air, tightening your throat. 

You hear him inhale briefly as if he wants to say something, but no sound can be heard. When you glance over at him, you see his lips silently moving as he searches for words, avoiding your gaze. When you restlessly shift on your side to face him, you feel his cum seeping out of you. You sit up, a little sheepishly, briefly putting your hand on his arm to catch his gaze.

“I’ll be right back, and then we can talk, okay?” 

After he wordlessly nodded to you, you climb off the bed, wobbling to the bathroom on unsteady feet. A nervous restlessness creeps up your body while you clean yourself off. What had just happened here? And what is he going to say? Heck, what are you going to say?

When you open the door again, you freeze on the spot. Walter is already fully dressed, pacing back and forth in the room and the sight of his scowl makes your stomach drop. Plus, you have never felt so sober in your life. You cross your arms in front of you, overly aware that you're still naked, and you nervously shift your weight to your other foot. 

"Are you on the pill?" he rasps without interrupting his stride, and his words make you want to facepalm yourself. Contraception is a thing grown-ups should talk about before having sex, right?

"I am on the pill," you confirm. "And don't worry about STDs. I took a test after the last umm… and it's been a while… um I mean… you're the first one I had sex with after that." You stumble across your own words as heat creeps up your chest and neck to your face. 

You quickly turn away towards your duffle bag to get some clothes. 

"Same goes for me," he says quietly behind you. 

Then, it’s silent again, and you already know there’s more to come. You focus on keeping your hands from trembling as you put on a baggy t-shirt and shorts for the night, wishing the clothes were iron armor to protect you from what he’s going to say next. 

When you’re dressed, you slowly turn around to face him. He has stopped his stride, and you catch him staring at you, his eyes glued to the bruised skin on your neck.

"What else?" you ask flatly, trying to push the thoughts away. Thoughts about the way he touched you, kissed you, fucked you not a long time ago.

He snaps out of his trance, and then, he says aloud what you’ve already seen writ large in his face. 

“We shouldn't have done that.” 

"You told me that before, remember? Before we got to know each other better. And I thought you… liked me?" you shrug helplessly. 

“I like you. I really do…,” he reassures you, yet leaving the latter words hanging in the air. 

“But?” 

“But I'm not what you're looking for.” 

You're everything I'm looking for. The thought, the feeling, suddenly popped up. And once it’s there in all its clarity, you instantly know it won’t go away. You stare at him, dumbfounded before you remember how to blink. And how to breathe. And how to move your muscles. Then, you slowly shake your head as your face contorts to a pained smile. 

"How do you know what I'm looking for?" 

"You don't seem to be looking for a one-night stand or something with no strings attached. I’m right, am I?" he asks when you remain silent. 

You open your mouth, about to reassure him that you wouldn't mind. And that’s exactly what a part of you wants to believe. That it would be enough to have a tiny piece of him, to be with him somehow, even if he can't… love you. But then you shut your mouth again. It would be a lie. And you both know it. 

"You're right," you finally answer quietly. 

He nods. "I wish I could give you more than that. But I can't,” he says emphatically, and maybe, there’s a hint of desperation in his voice. 

But why not? Why? The question is on top of your tongue, and it takes all you have to force it back. It already hurts enough. And what does it even matter?

“And you shouldn’t settle for less than you want,” he continues, and you almost choke on the desperate snort bubbling up inside you. That’s one of the things your mother had told you since you were little. And it’s also one of the things you’ve never done in your life. You have always settled for less. Simply because there was no other way. Or so it seemed. So, how are you supposed to do that? Not getting involved in something you want so badly because you already know it won’t be enough? And settle for nothing instead? 

“But, if you knew all of this, why did you…,” you ask, confused, gesturing at the rumpled bed. 

“I… I don't know. I wasn’t thinking,” he stammers, his voice strained, his eyes lowered to the floor.

He wasn’t thinking. You press your lips together, pondering what this could mean. Was it just a quick fuck? In the heat of the moment? That may be true. But can that really be the only reason? That actually doesn’t look like him. There has to be something else. 

You recall everything that had happened and what you said before he kissed you, and a wave of shame washes over you. You must have looked pitiful from crying. Tipsy on top of that. And you might as well have begged him to kiss you. Pathetic! A pity fuck, you think to yourself, and the thought makes you cringe. 

“It would be better if you go now,” you say softly, your gaze directed to the ugly pattern of the carpet.  

From the corner of your eye, you see him walking to the door. Then, he pauses, clutching the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turn white. 

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. 

"Me too," you whisper, choking on the words. 

And then, he's gone. The sound of the closing door makes you jump, although it's not loud at all. 

You remain standing at the same spot for a while, stunned. Finally, reluctantly, you lay down on the bed. Your whole body seems to fight it, but you can’t spend the night sitting on the wooden chair next to the small desk. You pull the duvet up to your chin, imagining that you can still feel a remnant of his body heat. You lean your head against the pillow that smells like sex and like him, closing your eyes, allowing his scent to invade your senses.

At some point in this night, you let the tears come. And at some point, your tears have dried up. But even when the first rays of sunshine creep in through the window, you still haven't fallen asleep. 

After getting up, you only take a cursory look at your mirror image in the bathroom. Pale skin, red-rimmed, swollen eyes - an indication of the lack of sleep and the turmoil inside you, writ large in your face. Awesome. 

Other than the previous days, it’s pretty chilly outside, with dark clouds hanging in front of the sun. The cloudy weather suits your mood well. And Walter's mood, too, as it seems. When you step out of the hotel, you see him standing next to the car. And even from this distance, you instantly see that he looks just as drained and shitty as you.

“Good morning,” you say hesitantly, stepping closer. He looks up from the bag he was putting in the backseat. 

“Good morning,” he rasps with a half smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Are you ready to go home?”

“I am,” you nod with the same half-hearted smile. 

And then, silence. You’re silent as you get in the car. You’re silent as you drive off. And you remain silent during the drive. Hard to imagine that you had been talking and laughing on the way yesterday. Now, both of you stare out of the window, lost in your thoughts. Finally, you close your eyes to escape the silence and the sight of him looking past you. Goosebumps rise on your arms, and you shiver, snuggling in your cardigan, wrapping your arms around your body as you feel yourself drifting to sleep. 

You must have slept like a log. 

When you slowly wake up, looking out of the window, you already recognize the suburbs of your hometown. Next, you perceive warmth and the weight of something lying on your legs. When you look down, you see Walter's hoodie spread across your lap. He must have placed it there while you've been sleeping. Then your gaze falls on the display of the air conditioner that is set warmer on the passenger's side. 

Goddammit, why can't he just be an asshole? Things would be very much less complicated if he wasn't so sweet. 

You brush your fingers over the cozy fabric of his hoodie, wishing you could feel it on his body as he hugged you tightly, wrapping both of you in his jacket. 

"Sorry, you had to drive all the way back," you murmur after clearing your throat.

"It's okay," he reassures you. "You needed sleep." And you can't deny that he's right.

After he parked in front of the appartment building you live in, both of you remain sitting in the car, staring out of the window. 

"Listen," he begins, his eyes directed straight ahead on the street. "I'm sorry." 

"I’m sorry, too," you mumble, and he instantly turns his head to look at you. 

"What should you be sorry for?" he asks, incredulous, frowning. 

"For drinking too much and behaving pathetically?" you say through clenched teeth as if it was obvious, once again cringing at the memory. 

“Hey, look at me," he demands. You hesitantly turn your gaze to the heavy scowl on his face. "You didn’t behave pathetically at all," he says firmly, shaking his head. "You were hurting and tipsy, and I shouldn’t have… taken advantage. It’s all my fault. I behaved like an asshole, and I’m sorry.” 

"You haven't…," you begin to protest, but he cuts you off. 

“I promise it won’t happen again.” 

"Okay," you mumble, despondently averting your gaze. Then, that's it. 

Silently, you gather your things and open the passenger door.

“Bye, Walter. I'll see you at work," you say when you’ve gotten out of the car. 

"Y/N? Maybe we should stay away from each other," he says haltingly, pressing his lips toghether. 

"If that's what you want…," Your answer is almost lost in the noise of the street.

"Maybe it'll be easier this way," he shrugs helplessly, digging his teeth into his cheeks.

Looks like you have no choice but to settle for nothing.

"Okay," you whisper. And then you close the door and walk towards the house, without looking back, pretty sure you couldn’t stand the sight of him driving off.

Friday. Saturday. Sunday. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. 

The days fly by, and you try your best to distract yourself. Work. Chores. Phone calls with your family. Dinner with Mike and Sarah after you've helped them pack freakin' 200 goodie bags for their wedding next weekend. 

But nothing seems to work. You've been replaying every single conversation Walter and you have had, every kiss, every single touch over and over again, until your heart aches and your head is about to explode.

In the office, you catch yourself secretly watching him, although you were determined not to do that. He seems more engrossed in his work than ever before. Always highly concentrated, his eyes strictly fixed on whatever he's doing. 

Every day you try to sneak out of the office when you call it a day. And every day, he somehow manages to sit at his desk, and there's no way to avoid meeting his gaze when you get into the elevator. Of course, you could turn around or simply avert your gaze. But then you would miss the only moment of the day when he openly looks at you. Only you. What you see in his eyes remains a mystery to you. Sympathy? Regret? Longing? Whatever it is, it captures your gaze and your thoughts, making you unable to look away, unable to stop thinking about him. 

On Friday, during lunch break, when everyone else is out of the office, Jen comes into your cubicle, casually sitting down on the edge of your desk.

“You know, I may not look like I was capable of kicking a big guy's ass, but let me assure you that I’m very capable,” she states flatly, a menacing sparkle in her eyes. 

“What?” you laugh, surprised. 

“Do you want me to kick Detective Marshall’s ass, sweetheart? Because I’ve seen you staring at each other from a distance the whole damn week without exchanging a single word.”

“You’re way too observant,” you grumble as blood rushes to your cheeks. “And no, I don’t want you to kick his ass.”

“Would you like to tell me what happened on that trip?” she asks, genuinely concerned. You sigh before you decide to give her a brief summary, skipping the saucy details, and her expression changes into a scowl as she listens to you. 

“You know, now I really want to kick his ass,” she says thoughtfully, shaking her head. “But something tells me he had hurt you and himself. I don’t know why he behaves like that. Don't you dare tell me it's just pity," she admonishes you, cutting you off when you're about to interrupt her to say just that. "He doesn’t pity you. You’re the only person he has let close to him in all those years that I’ve known him. And I’ve seen him staring at you like a wolf howling at the unreachable moon ever since that barbecue at Mike and Sarah’s. And that hasn't changed this week either.” 

“Well, I’m here, right? And very reachable. But I can’t force him to be with me,” you shrug, resigned. 

“I know, sweetheart. All I’m trying to say is that maybe, it’s not over yet, okay?” she says, sympathetically patting your arm before changing the subject as some of your colleagues return from their break. You, too, get back to work, but a part of your brain keeps thinking about Jen’s words which somehow confirmed your gut feeling. Although he has hurt you, there is still something that prevents you from giving up. A glimpse of hope. Maybe small. Maybe stupid. Yet, hope.

The next day is Mike’s and Sarah’s wedding day. In the afternoon, you make your way to the hotel in the countryside with Jen and her husband. As soon as you get out of the car, you see that the venue looks like a picture book. The charmingly rustic hotel complex is located next to a lake and has a breathtaking view of the surrounding mountains. The chuppah and chairs for the ceremony are set up in the shade of huge, venerable oaks, making it seem like you’re in a clearing in the middle of a forest, and the decoration consisting of countless roses and luscious green exudes a delicate fragrance. Of course, you already knew that Sarah is a sucker for roses, but the sight wows you. It looks stunning, and it matches the venue and Mike and Sarah perfectly. Even the weather is perfect, too: not too warm, not too chilly, and not a single cloud sailing across the bright blue sky. 

Most of the chairs are already taken as you walk along the aisle with Jen and her husband. 

“Let’s take these ones here,” Jen suggests, pointing at four empty chairs in the middle of a row. After you’re seated, you chat a bit, looking around to pass the time until the ceremony begins. 

“Hey,” Jen whisper-shouts over her shoulder when a visibly nervous Mike and his groomsmen have already taken their places, enthusiastically waving her hand at someone, “over here, Walter!” 

As soon as she said his name, you already feel the usual butterflies in your stomach. You slowly count to ten in your mind before you look at him as he hastily slides into the row of seats, sitting down on the empty chair next to you. And the sight of him almost makes your jaw drop. The plain, navy blue suit fits his muscular build perfectly. Crisp white shirt and pocket square, black tie and shoes - very classic, very very sexy. For once, his hair looks neatly tamed, as far as that can be said about his wild curls. He seems a bit rushed and the breathless, relieved smile he sends you is so adorable and so contagious you can't help but beam at him. His ocean eyes roam your face as his smile deepens and for a moment, it’s like there was just the two of you. And like he hadn’t told you to stay away from each other.

Then, music starts to play, drawing your attention to the flower girls and bridesmaids. Shortly after that, everyone stands up as Sarah walks down the aisle on her father's arm as a piano plays Pachelbel’s Canon in D. She looks gorgeous in a dream of tulle and lace, but the most beautiful thing is her radiant smile and her amorous gaze that is fixed only on Mike. You see him swallow hard, tears brimming his eyes, and that’s when you feel your eyes dampening as well. And then, the first tear rolls down your cheek. You sniffle quietly, trying to keep it together as you search for a handkerchief in your clutch bag. Of course, you don’t find one. Damn those ridiculously small handbags! 

When you hear a quiet snort next to you, you turn your gaze towards Walter, who has been watching you, amused. 

“Those are happy tears, and I don't want to hear a single word,” you mumble sheepishly before he can make a cheeky remark. 

“I didn't say a single word,” he whispers, grinning innocently. “Here, take this.” He pulls out his pocket square and offers it to you. 

“I will probably ruin it,” you try to decline. 

“Do I look like I care?” he smiles, raising his eyebrow. 

He doesn't look like he cared. And so you clutch the piece of fabric during the rest of the ceremony, dabbing your eyes from time to time, trying not to smear too much mascara on it. And all the while, you try to ignore the glances he throws you. More or less successfully. 

When the ceremony is over, everything devolves into a colorful mess of congratulations and hugs for the happy newlyweds, beaming faces, and happy chitchat. And no matter where you go, Walter always seems to be at the edge of your field of vision. And on your mind, anyway. You look over at him and see him chatting with a few people, a glass of champagne in his hand, relaxed. While he nods and listens, his gaze roams the crowd. When your eyes meet, a small smile curves his lips and you suddenly see everything that could be. You, standing next to him in a beautiful wedding gown. His arm is possessively wrapped around your waist as you accept congratulations from your families and friends with bright smiles, exchanging loving glances and sweet kisses now and then. And the image makes your heart once again tighten with longing.  

Be still, stupid heart! You quietly put your empty glass down on a bar table. Then, you turn away and walk towards the hotel. A little break when checking in will certainly do you good.

After you’ve checked in you make your way back to the party. But before you’ve reached the garden where the reception is in full swing, you follow the path that seems to go around the lake instead. Behind the next bend, a small dirt track leads away from the neat gravel path. You hesitate for a brief moment before you follow the trail that is probably only intended for employees. The forest along the small side arm of the lake looks far less idyllic than the spruced-up garden but still beautiful. The chirping of birds and rustling of leaves in the wind sounds very peaceful, and you feel yourself relax a bit. Then you discover a small dock shed by the lake, and you walk towards it, following the stairs down to the dock. As you turn the corner, you see a man in a navy blue suit standing at the end of the jetty. Walter. 

You stop dead in your tracks, but he has already heard your steps. He turns around, and for a moment, you just look at each other. 

“Sorry,” you finally manage to say, “I didn’t know you were here. I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, it’s okay. Stay. Please.”

"What about our resolution to stay away from each other?" you ask suspiciously.

"I guess we can make an exception today," he states. "Looks like we were both looking for a hideaway, and I'm willing to share this one with you. Although technically neither of us is allowed to be here."

"Well, let's hope that your badge will save us from getting arrested in case we get caught, Detective,” you smirk as you walk towards him. Then, you stand next to each other, looking at the calm water surface. 

"Oh, I almost forgot about this." You pull his pocket square from your clutch bag. Just as you hold it out for him to take it, you see that it's still damp from your tears and garnished with traces of your mascara. "Sorry. I can wash it for you," you offer, a bit embarrassed. 

He just smiles, shaking his head. "Don't be silly. I told you I didn't care." And he takes it without hesitation. He slowly folds it into a neat square, running his fingers over the white fabric. His shoulders seem tense, and when you see his jaw clench, you can tell that something is bothering him.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Yes,” he answers automatically, shaking his head. “No. I don’t know.”

“You can tell me, you know?”

“It’s just… Everything here is so… perfect, you know. But I have to go to work in half an hour because Harper ordered extra shifts for all detectives. And the things I’ll see there… I just can’t get it together in my head… Those contrasts, like day and night. Sometimes I almost feel guilty for seeing the daylight… I don’t know,” he murmurs, running his hand through his hair.

“I know what you mean. And I know it looks picture-perfect, but it’s probably not as perfect as it seems. I bet Sarah’s feet hurt like crazy in those shoes, and Mike is shitting his pants because he has to dance later. And he couldn’t even dance if his life depended on it. Plus, there’s a whole crowd of people backstage here who work hard to make it look that perfect. All of that makes it a little less picture-perfect. And a little less blinding.”

“Sometimes it feels like looking straight into the sun, doesn’t it?”

“It does. But I think it’s still perfect for Mike and Sarah. It’s their perfect day, and they deserve it. We all do. I guess we need those almost perfect moments to store some warmth and light before we go back to everyday life. And you deserve those moments, too. Especially because you see all those horrible things at work. You can let them warm you. Just don't let them blind you. By the way, someone recently told me that it doesn’t help if you forbid yourself to be happy. I guess the same goes for feeling guilty."

He smiles wryly. “Whoever said that must be pretty smart.” 

"I guess you could say that.”

“I just wish it was that easy,” he remarks thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, me too,” you confess, and you exchange a knowing smile. 

For a while, you stand next to each other, and look at the lake. And this time, your silence is not oppressive but comfortable and somehow peaceful.

During the following week, you experience the contrast between day and night firsthand. After a lavish party and a pretty tired and hungover Sunday, all hell seems to break loose at work on Monday.

The detectives on the Hill Park case have found a hot lead pointing to Moore, and they’re hardly to be seen in the office. And everyone who is in the office seems to be beyond stressed. Mike went on his well-deserved honeymoon with Sarah right after the wedding, leaving you even more understaffed than usual for the next two weeks. No matter how hard you and André try, the pile of work never seems to get any smaller, and every day it gets later and later until you finally get home.

One night, you have just stepped out of the shower when the doorbell rings. You quickly put on a bathrobe and grab a towel in an attempt to dry your hair as you hurry to the door. You look through the door viewer and see Walter standing in the hallway. First, you’re hesitant as you open the door. But then you see the expression on his face. It sends your heart racing, and you instantly open the door wide. By now, you've gotten used to the ubiquitous dark circles under his eyes. And you’ve already seen him tired and drained and mad and sad. But never had he looked so lost. 

“Come in, Walter,” is the first thing you say. 

Without saying a word, he steps in. He closes the door behind him and leans his back against it, exhausted. 

“What happened?” you ask worriedly. 

“We have him,” he says, his face and voice devoid of emotions.  

“Moore?”

He nods. 

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

Another nod.  

“What’s wrong?” you ask him softly. 

For a moment, he stares into blank space. “We found his account on that website, and…,” he swallows hard, “there were pictures. And videos. Of him. And the girls.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper. 

“I had to look at all that stuff and…,” he gestures vaguely, unable to continue. The thought of the two young women and their fates makes your throat tight, as well as the sight of the shaken man standing in front of you.

“Would you like to stay here for a while?” you offer. 

“I shouldn't,” he says softly, shaking his head. "Do you even want me to stay?" 

“I shouldn't,” you reply with a sad smile and the same gesture. “Why are you here, Walter?” 

“I don't know," he whispers. 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

First, he remains silent. You stand in front of him, a bit at a loss, wondering if you should ask him to leave.

“Kiss me,” he says huskily. “Kiss me as if you hope that I’ll stay.” 

You briefly close your eyes as you try to use your common sense. But it’s already too late. Your common sense is hiding in some corner, and all that’s left is that urge. Longing. Desire. And something that’s bigger than all of this.   

You slowly step towards him until your bodies almost touch, locking eyes with him. Then, you carefully extend your hand, brushing your fingers over his beard and his lips. His panting breath caresses your fingertips, and you get on your tippy toes to press a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth as your hand cups his cheek. He inhales shakily, closing his eyes. You plant a kiss on his lips and then another one. Your tongue glides across his bottom lip, and his taste and the sensation of his soft skin make you sigh. 

And then, finally. Finally, he returns the kiss. He still leans against the door, his arms hanging at his sides, his hands clenched into fists. His kiss is gentle and hesitant, whereas his sturdy body trembles, torn back and forth between holding back and letting go. Let go, you silently plead with your hands and lips. Let go.  

Both of you pant as you separate your lips from his. You take a step back, your hands shaking ever so slightly as you slowly open your bathrobe. You slide the thin fabric off your shoulders, letting the piece of clothes carelessly fall to the floor.

"Touch me, Walter," you whisper longingly.

You feel drops of water rolling from your wet hair over your skin and down your body. And you can almost feel his gaze tracing those drops. He inhales deeply, hastily, as if he had been holding his breath. And then, he slowly lifts his hand. His lips part as he puts his warm hand on your chest, right above your racing heart. 

In the blink of an eye, he swirls you around, so your back is pressed against the door, making you gasp as he wraps his other hand around your throat.  

He lowers his head, brushing his mouth against yours. 

"Little sparrow," he whispers urgently against your lips, slightly squeezing your throat. And then, he let’s go. 

When your mouths and bodies collide, it's like a force of nature, captivating you in its firm grip, sweeping you away, and all you can do is surrender. You surrender to his mouth and his hands as you melt against him, letting him take possession of your body. Of you.

Solid denim against your legs, leather and metal against your belly, soft cotton fabric against your chest - the materials of his clothes caress your skin, each adding a new and enticing sensation as he pulls you close and his rough hands eagerly explore your naked form. Then, he grabs your thighs, lifting you up like weighed nothing. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, trying to get as close as possible as he presses you against the wall. He digs his fingers into your flesh, firmly kneading and squeezing your thighs and ass. When you moan into his kiss, he briefly separates his lips from yours. 

“Bedroom?” he asks, panting. 

“This way,” you point to the room at the end of the hallway, and your voice sounds just as breathless as his.  

He walks towards the bedroom with you in his arms, and you cling to his broad frame like a Koala. Lust has taken over your system long ago, and you can’t keep yourself from burying your face in his neck, rubbing your cheek against his beard, nibbling on his earlobe. He squirms under your touch, almost imperceptibly, tightening his grip until it’s almost painful. Then, he lands a firm smack on your ass, making you yelp in both surprise and pain. 

“Remember what I told you about who’s in charge here, little sparrow?” he growls.  

“You're in charge,” you breathe, shuddering as heat rushes to your core. 

“Smart girl,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours before he bites down on your bottom lip. Your soft whimpering hasn't quite faded away when he carefully puts you down on the floor.

“Lay down on the bed,” he commands, his voice deep and firm, and you do as he says without giving it a second thought.   

Your eyes remain glued to him as he takes off his clothes. My god, has there ever been a hotter sight than this bear of a man, hastily unbuckling his belt as his eyes wander greedily over your body? He looks like a predator on the lookout, imagining how good its innocent prey will taste, and his gaze makes your skin heat up. You feel wetness seeping from your pussy, and you swallow hard as you wait for him to come to you. Then, the mattress dips as he sits down next to you.   

“I can't promise I'll be gentle, but I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to do, okay?” he says huskily. 

“Okay,” you smile. His barely hidden solicitude pulls your heartstrings, and you see his expression softening as well.  

“What’s the first word coming to your mind?” he asks, gently running his thumb along your jaw. 

“Parachute. My safeword is parachute,” you answer, holding his gaze. 

“You already have a safeword, little sparrow?” he murmurs, firmly capturing your chin between his fingers.

“Yes. And I don’t want you to be gentle,” you confess softly, longingly staring into his eyes, once again fascinated by the ocean blue color of his iris with the little brown spot. You haven’t even noticed that you’ve been biting your lip in anticipation until his gaze wanders to your mouth. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs after inhaling sharply. Now his animalistic expression is back. And you feel pure lust flooding your veins. Should you or shouldn’t you? You hesitate a split second before you voice what is tantalizingly whirling around in your mind. 

“Open the middle drawer of the bedside table. You can pick one thing if you see something you like." 

He gives you a sultry look before he leans forward to slowly pull out the drawer. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs again when he sees the content - a collection of your favorite toys you’ve been craving for a while. And which you will continue to crave, as it seems. Walter keeps staring into the drawer, without saying a word. Fuck. You probably shouldn’t have… 

“If not, that’s okay, too,” you say hastily as you feel your cheeks heating up, and he quickly lifts his gaze. 

“I don’t see anything I don’t like, little sparrow. If you only knew what's going on in my mind right now,” he murmurs huskily with undisguised lust. “It’s just not an easy decision to make.” 

He runs his hand across the toys. A blindfold. Nipple clamps. A small ball gag. A few plugs. With every toy his hand glides over, your head fills with images of him using the toy on you, and more blood, more wetness shoot to your core. He takes his sweet time, flicking his gaze between the toys and your almost trembling self, drinking in your reactions. Not that he remained unfazed. His slightly dilated pupils, his panting breath, and his rock-hard cock speak for themselves. His hardness is steeply erected, the tip an angry red, and you wonder if you could feel the prominent veins throbbing if you ran your tongue over his length. 

When his hand reaches the restraints he had used on you in your dreams, probably dozens of times, you can’t stop the gasp falling from your lips. Please. Please, Walter. He closes his hand around the black leather straps, and it takes all you have to suppress a moan.  

“Good choice, little sparrow,” he coos, smirking when he hears the tiny sigh leaving your lips after all. 

“Lay down on your back,” he commands. “Pull your legs up and grab your ankles. And spread your legs wide. I want to see your wet pussy and those pretty tits.” 

His deep voice brooks no contradiction. Not that it occurred to you to disagree. And you obey without a second's hesitation.

He corrects your posture with a steady hand before he arranges the restraints. Two wide leather straps, each with buckles and two smaller loops to lock your hands and ankles to your thighs. 

Once you’re tied up, he puts a small pillow under your butt. And there you are. Your most sensitive parts exposed to him. Unable to do much more than squirm. Delivered defenseless. 

“Just look at you,” he murmurs as his eyes greedily roam your form. “Such a gorgeous, tied-up package. Fuck! The things you make me want to do…”

Delivered defenseless. The thought, echoing in your mind, suddenly makes adrenaline rush through your veins, speeding up your breath and sending your heart racing. And Walter seems to notice the tiny change in your mood right away.

“Ssshhh, little sparrow,” he murmurs, putting his warm hand on your chest, right above your heart, running a finger along your collarbone. “Are you scared?” 

You try to breathe more slowly as you feel inside yourself for a moment. Then, you determinedly shake your head. 

“Just a bit nervous. It’s been a while since I’ve… played that game.”

“I'll only go as far as you want me to. Do you trust me?”

And this time, you don’t need a single second to think about your answer.

“I trust you, Walter,” you say softly. And like on command, you feel some of your tension slipping away, allowing yourself to sink deeper into the position. 

He just manages to hide the thankful smile that’s about to creep on his face. But you see it in his eyes. And you feel it in the fervent kiss he presses on your lips, leaving you yearning for more. 

When you stretch your neck, trying to inch closer, he withdraws his face.

“Nuh-huh,” he hums with a smirk, shaking his head. 

He captures your chin in a firm grip, ghosting your mouth with his lips before he kisses his way down to your neck. His mouth dances over your skin, leaving a hickey right where the mark he had left last week had already begun to fade. Then, his index finger draws an invisible line from your chin along your throat down to the valley of your breasts, tantalizingly slow. And a breath catches in your throat as you longingly squirm under his touch. 

His hands cup your breasts, his touch far from gentle and driven by sheer need. His hands knead your breasts as his thumbs draw firm circles around your nipples. When he flicks the pebbled buds, first with his fingers, then with his tongue, you can no longer stop the soft sounds from leaving your lips as he seems to set you alight. 

Then, he captures your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, applying increasing and delicious pressure, ending with a firm pinch before he lets go. His eyes are glued to your face as you whine, and your body writhes in his grip, your movements restricted by unyielding leather, reflexively trying to escape while everything in you screams for more. 

His mouth soothes your sensitive flesh with gentle licks and sucks until he resumes his sweet torture again and until you’re almost certain you can’t take it any longer. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper. “Please, I need….”

“What do you need, huh?”

“I need to feel your mouth on me.”

“Then you should better beg me for it, shouldn't you? And I want to hear you use your dirty words,” he demands, smirking. 

Blazing heat rushes to your cheeks as you stare into his lust-blown pupils, struggling for words. 

“Say it,” he snarls, almost making you wince. 

You inhale deeply, gathering your courage. And then you say it. 

“Please, fuck me with your tongue,” you breathe. “Please, Walter!” 

“Good girl,” he purrs, settling down between your legs. 

“Look at that pretty, dripping pussy,” he murmurs, taking in the sight of your throbbing core without touching you yet. 

He gently runs his fingers along your slick nether lips, drawing languid, sensual circles around your slit, closer and closer to your opening, closer and closer to your clit.

Then he replaces his fingers with his tongue, warmer and slightly rougher than his finger. 

“Fuck,” he groans, “you taste just as irresistible as you look.”

His beard rubs against your tender flesh, leaving a delicious tingle that fuels your desire even more. A prolonged moan falls from your lips as he licks a long stripe through your slit, closing his lips around your clit, sucking gently at the swollen nub. 

“So, you want me to fuck you with my tongue, huh? Like… this?” he teases, slightly lapping at your opening. 

“Oh my god, fuck,” you groan at the sensation and his words. And “oh my god,” is all you can say as his tongue glides in and out of your pussy, and he swirls his finger around your clit, until you teeter on the edge of your high. 

But then, he withdraws from your heat, making you writhe and brace yourself against the restraints with a frustrated mewl. 

“Aw, you wanted to cum?” he coos, “Too bad because you will only cum when I say so. And that time is not now. Now we’re going to do this again.” 

And so it is. This time, tears brim your eyes and your panting breath ricochets off the walls when he stops his ministrations again, right before your orgasm washes over you. 

“Almost there, my brave little sparrow,” he murmurs, gently blowing on your burning skin. Then, he gets up on his knees, lining himself up at your wet entrance. But he doesn’t fuck you yet. No. Instead, he drags his tip through your folds, watching you try in vain to buck your hips until you throw your head back with a sob. You didn’t even notice the tears trickling down your face until he gently runs a finger across your cheek. 

“Tears, little sparrow?” he coos, licking the salty droplet off his finger. “Is that how bad you want me to fuck you?” 

“Yes! Yes, please! Please, Walter!” you beg, sobbing. 

“Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you!” he demands, panting, repeatedly slapping his cock against your clit. 

“I’ve never wanted to be fucked so badly by anyone before,” you whisper. It's the plain truth. You know it the moment the words leave your lips. And you can tell he knows it, too, when he seems speechless for a moment. 

“Fuck,” he groans as he sinks into you in one determined movement. “So wet and so tight! And only for me, huh?” 

“Only for you!” 

He grabs the leather straps around your thighs, pulling you closer, grinding against you as if he tries to get even deeper into your heat. Then, he pulls back and snaps his hips forward again, as a groan falls from his lips. You can tell how worked up he already is as he quickly builds a merciless rhythm. He moves your tied-up form on his cock in harmony with his thrusts, watching your willing pussy take him again and again and again, watching your breasts bounce with every stroke. He groans softly as his hand finds your nipples, giving each a few firm pinches that make you throw your head against the pillow with an unrestrained moan. 

“Walter please,” you whimper, overwhelmed, “please let me cum.” 

When he runs his hand to your clit, drawing firm circles, matching the rhythm of his vigorous thrusts and your racing heart, you feel your high approaching at breakneck speed. 

“You may cum now, little sparrow,” he pants, “Open your eyes. Look at me!” His words are no longer a command but more of a plea, and you feel like burning to ashes as you come undone under his flaming gaze. Your walls flutter around his cock, making you moan and writhe helplessly, and that’s when he loses his composure. The aftershocks of your high still shake your body as he spills himself inside you, groaning and stammering your name like a mantra. 

Goosebumps are still visible on his arms as he withdraws himself from your heat, watching his cock glide out of your pussy. He briefly brushes his thumb over your oversensitive clit, enough to make you writhe with a small mewl. And enough to make a bit of his cum drip from your swollen flesh. He scoops up the liquid on his index finger, shoving it back into your pussy. Then, he brings his finger to your mouth, tracing your lips, moistening them with your juices. 

“Open your mouth,” he demands, his voice low and as soft as the expression in his eyes. You obediently close your lips around his digit, tasting his cum and yourself on your tongue as you suckle on his finger. You drink in his enraptured expression, and both of you gasp in unison at the sensation and the delicious filthiness of your doing. 

Finally, he withdraws his finger, just to replace it with his mouth and a kiss so sensual and tender it makes the world stand still. 

Afterwards, not many words are spoken. Because it's not necessary. And because none of you wants to destroy this fragile moment.

Instead, he holds you close. 

He holds you close after he had untied you, pressing gentle kisses to your now unrestrained limbs, carefully inspecting your body for possible injuries and tension in your muscles. 

He holds you close as he holds a bottle of water to your lips for you to drink and as he licks a droplet from the corner of your mouth.

He holds you close when you stand under the shower together, hot water pelting down on you. Now, he allows you to touch him, visibly enjoying the sensation of your hands lathering his body, letting you savor the sensation of warm skin, firm muscles, and wet hair underneath your fingers. 

He holds you close as he rubs shower gel all over your body, languidly running his hands over the foam on your smooth skin, drawing little circles to loosen your tense muscles. 

He holds you close when he wraps you in a big, fluffy towel, drying you up as you lean in his warm embrace. 

He holds you close when he scoops you up in his arms to carry you to the bedroom. 

And he holds you close when you lay down in bed, pulling the duvet over the two of you. Both of you close your eyes, exhausted. He scoots further down until his head rests against your chest, taking a few deep breaths as he rubs his cheek on your skin. Then, he grabs your ankle to sling your leg around his waist, pulling you even closer. He hums softly as his lips ghost your breasts, and your core presses against his belly. But this time, it's not about sex. It’s a very, very intimate hug, and it makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. 

You shudder slightly as you wrap your arms around him. Then, you bury your hand in his hair, tenderly playing with his damp curls as both of you drift to sleep. 

"I will always hope that you’ll stay." Your words float in the air, anywhere between dream and reality, soft and light like a feather. And you're not even sure if you spoke those words or if you just thought them.

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we don't have to fall in love (yet) - chapter one

info. in which y/n finds herself in a "relationship" with the city's detective. / 2.2k+ words.

warnings. smut, friends with benefits, exhibitionism if you squint, choking, size kink, two instances of impact play, y/n calling walter "sir" while having sex, walter calling y/n "bun" or "bunny" during sex.

a/n. hello hello!! i've worked super hard on this and i'm glad i can finally share it with all of you!! i really hope you all enjoy this multi-chaptered series! they are all slightly connected to all of the walter fics i've posted. enjoy, i love you all!! - hales <3

remember to reblog, send asks/concepts, and give feedback.

“Oh, Walter!” Y/n moans out, finally teetering over the edge. Walter does the same right after her, soft growls and groans slipping past his lips. They’ve been doing this for two months now, this fast-paced, friends with benefits, no feelings sex. Holding onto the large expanse of Walter’s back, she catches her breath. Walter says nothing, but watches her limp, sweaty body move up and down slowly in his lap.

“You should get going now,” He says, face completely stoic. “You can’t be late for work after your lunch break.” He starts to pull his now soft cock out of her, making her wince, but she does remove herself from his lap as she quickly reaches to cover her naked body. Walter watches her movements, how she’s so frantic to cover her body even though he’s seen it multiple times in the last two months. The way she’s tugging on her bra and panties quickly, taking quick glances at the clock after every piece of her outfit is on. When she’s finally dressed, she grabs her bag and looks at Walter, who’s pants and boxers are still pooled down at his ankles.

“I’ll see you on Friday, Walter.” She mutters quietly, and she walks out the door of his office, closing it softly before she can hear the usual grunt he makes after she says goodbye. She steps out into the warm air just outside of the back door of the station. She’s used to it now, just being thrown out so quickly after all of what just happened. She doesn’t mind it, though, and she tries not to let it sit in her head too long before she starts thinking that she’s made a mistake with this whole thing.

Walter sighs and cleans himself up, throwing away the messy, filled condom and burying it underneath looseleaf paper in his trash. He’s never been the type to show his feelings to just anyone. He did in the past, and it got him hurt, so he knows that he needs to keep up these thick walls of ice he’s had up ever since. He makes sure to not get too close to anyone ever. It’s best this way. Way less chances of him getting hurt again.

Finally pulling on his clothes, he looks around his small, now quiet, office that he’d be moving out of after nearly 9 years. Boy was he glad to be leaving this hellhole.

As she settled into her office chair, Y/n looked down at her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from Walter’s prying hands. She didn’t talk to the people at her office very much, so she was sure they probably wouldn’t notice her anyway, but she didn’t want to looked totally fucked out. Y/n has always been shy, so her not having any friends at her office wasn’t unnatural to her. She’s a hardworker, very talented writer, and when she finally does let someone into her heart, very funny. She’s never let anyone in though. Which is why she was so hesitant when Walter proposed the idea of them having sex with one another.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Walter eyed her, seeing her nervousness. He could tell she’d never been proposed an offer like this before.

“I dunno, Walter. I’ve never done anything like this before.” She bit her lip as she confirmed his suspicion. She looked back up at the man’s bright blue orbs.

“Besides, I don’t wanna be hurt. Ever.”

“Can’t get hurt if there aren’t any feelings.”

A day later, Y/n is sitting across from the bear of a man, who stares at her for a few seconds. When she feels his gaze burning on her for nearly 15 seconds, she feels her skin get hot and she begins to toy with the keyrings on her lanyard. Walter smirks, knowing that he got her flustered by just looking at her. “Just wanted to bring you here so we could actually talk.” He sips from his beer, her tentative gaze finally aimed at him. “Know there isn’t always much room for it when we do see each other.”

“What is there for us to say?” Y/n murmurs, looking at him sip his drink again. He’d offered her one, but she knew she’d be much to tipsy to be driving. She fiddles with the hem of her loose knitted sweater that she had recently bought. “Just us having sex. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Walter nods and finally puts down his beer. “Yeah, but, I was thinking. Since I’m leaving the department next Tuesday, I was wondering if you’d want to do another day.” He watched hey eyebrow raise and spoke again before she could. “So it’d be Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. For a longer session.” He watched the cogs turn in her head as he shoved his hands in the large pockets of his jeans. Y/n bit her lip and looked at Walter again. He was tall and wide with a large set of muscular arms and chest. His hair was slightly frizzy from the humidity earlier in the day and you could slightly see the dark circles underneath his eyes. “I know that’s a lot in a week, so we can rework the schedule. For you.”

“No! It’s fine,” the girl quickly spoke up, making Walter smirk. “A longer session would be great. Amazing, actually.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrow raised, he sat closer to her in the circular booth. Looking down at his lips, Y/n saw his tongue dart out over them and she closed her legs together tight.

“Yeah.” She muttered. His large hand rested on the end of her skirt and he looked at her for permission. Squeezing her legs tight, she looked around the loud, poorly lit bar. No one was paying attention to the detective and the girl, of couse, so she gave him a small nod. Within seconds she felt his large fingers rubbing over her clothed cunt. Y/n whined softly and her head fell back in bliss.

“You’re so wet already.” Walter grunted in her ear, his fingers still grazing her warm center. “Is it all for me?” He watched her nod and he clicked his tongue at her. He pressed a light smack to her clit which makes her yelp and her grip on his arm tightens. “I asked you something, you’ll answer it with your words if you know what’s good for you.”

“Yes, yes, it’s all for you Walter!” You whimpered, thankful that the bar was loud or everyone would have heard you.

“Atta girl.” Kissing her neck, he smelt her sweet-scented perfume. “Let me give you a proper show back at my place. You alright with that, bun?” He suckled into her neck and she whimpered again when she felt his lips graze a sensitive spot behind her ear.

“Please, Walter. Please,” she whispered.

Pushing her down onto his bed roughly, Walter yanked off Y/n’s skirt quickly, smirk evident on his face when he threw it onto the ground and she put her hands over her center. It was the first time she’d ever been to Walter’s house and she was quite nervous due to the fact that anything could happen and he could pull out any tricks or toys he had. ”Is my bun bein’ shy with me?” He asked bringing his lips up to suckle on her neck. Moaning softly, her hands quickly settle in the mess of chocolate curls on his head. His hands guide her legs to wrap around his wide torso as they cross just at the ankles.

“No need to hide from me, bunny,” Walter whispered, his stiffening cock grinding against her sensitive area. The material of the black jeans against her still clothed clit made Y/n shudder and hold tighter onto Walter’s broad shoulders. “I’ve seen y’pretty pussy before.”

“You’ve got such a dirty mouth, sir,” she whimpered as his hips moved faster against her core. “N-need you, please.” Her body falls limp against his and he "tsks" at her. He pulled himself away to quickly tug off all of the rest of their clothes. His thick, long cock leaked precum and his large hand pumped his length.

“Gonna give you my cock now, okay?” He unwrapped the foil on the large condom and fumbled with it until it finally slid down onto his length. Y/n nodded frantically and moaned out when she felt his tip inside of her. Every part of Walter was huge and he knew it, so he always took his time when she was adjusting to his size.

“S-sir! It’s much too big,” she gasped when he was halfway in, fingers digging into his taut back. “It won’t all fit!”

“Let’s make it fit then, yeah bun? Walter’s hands gripped onto her waist as he pushed the rest of himself inside of her, her fingers digging deep into his white cotton sheets. The pair groaned in pleasure with their eyes rolling to the backs of their heads. “Fuck bunny, were you a virgin before me?” He asked as his rapid thrusts plowed into her. “Have always been so tight for me.”

“Y-yes, I- Agh!” She moaned loudly as he quickened his pace. “Yes. I was,” she mumbled out as his hand wrapped around her throat. She squeezed around him tightly at the contact. “You make me feel so good, Walter.” She breathed out again and he growled quietly at her statement, ego inflating by ten.

“You make it so easy,” Walter proclaimed as he pulled away from her and slammed back in. Her nails sunk into the skin of his back, leaving crescent moon shapes before they were dragged up by the sheer force of his thrusts. “Your sweet little cunt does wonders for me, bun.” He brings his wet, hot mouth onto hers and searches her mouth, humming when he hits that spongy center of hers.

“Walter! Right there!” She gasped loudly as she held onto him like her life depended on it. His hands made their way down her body and onto her clit.

“Yeah? Are you gonna cum for me, bunny?" He pinched the sensitive nub and watched the younger girl writhe even more at his touch. He looked down at her nodding and gasping for air as she finally lets go. Crying out in pure pleasure, she cums all over Walter’s cock as he groans and his thrusts get sloppier until he finally lets out a loud grunt and spills inside of the condom around his length. He pulls out of her and lays her on her back, throwing his condom into the trash beside his bed. “Gonna clean you up, will only take a second.” Walter walks to the en suite bathroom and wets a towel with warm water, quickly rushing back so it won’t grow cold once it gets between the girl’s legs. He pulls her legs apart and runs the warm towel across her folds, making her shudder and close them quickly. “C’mon, it’ll only take a second.” He looks at her and she nods, opening her legs back up so her can finish cleaning.

“Hop under the covers if you’d like,” he started as he threw all of his messy clothes into his laundry basket, kicking Y/n’s into a nice pile on the armchair in his room. “It’s much too late to send you home by yourself now.” His heart pangs a bit and he stands still, closing his eyes. ‘I don’t have feelings for this girl,’ he tells himself, but eases under the blankets with her.

“Okay, thank you,” she whispers, turning her back to him. “Goodnight, Walter.”

“Goodnight Y/n. Sleep well.”

When Walter wakes up the next morning, he finds his arms wrapped around the smaller girl with her head tucked into his neck. He closes his eyes with a deep sigh, watching her breathing pattern. He doesn’t like the way his stomach is tossing at the sight of her in his chest, hair splayed out across the his large arm her head was resting on. “Y/n,” he says quietly to no avail. He shakes her a little and thats what gets her. Looking around frantically, she tries to sit up but Walter stops her. “Hey, it’s me. You stayed over, remember?” She looked at him in his morning state. Messy hair and tired eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” Nodding, she realizes that she’s against his chest and she quickly moves back, eyes wide. Walter clears his throat and brushes his hair back out of his face.

“I just wanted to wake you so you’d have enough to get home and dressed before work today.” She nodded and watched him slip out of bed. “You get dressed in here, I’ll have some toast ready for you.” He closed the door behind him and Y/n looked down at the bed and sighed. What just happened? What happened last night? She remembered, but she just couldn’t believe it. She rubbed her eyes and got out of bed, straightening up Walter’s bed before finally pulling on her clothes and bag. When she opened the door, she smelled what seemed to be fresh bread and a cup of espresso, so she walked into the kitchen to find Walter sitting at one of the chairs at his island.

“Eat something else before you go into work, okay?” He handed her the croissant he’d wrapped in a napkin and a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, I will.” Thank you, Walter.”

“Don’t mention it.”

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By Astor Alexander

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You have been visited by the Chan of wealth, reblog this and you will have money come to you!

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Pick any Cavill character. If he came home to find you like this, what would he do?

Summary | Hard at work, Walter sleeps, eats, and lives in the office. Two weeks it took him to finally come home. Where he found you. Clad in nothing but a gold chain.

Pairing | Walter Marshall x Reader

Word count | approx. 1.3k

Warnings | Sex (p in v), sprinkle of primal, handful of love, bucket of need, sex deprived Walter.

A\N | Edited by me, myself and I, mistakes run wild in this end of the woods.

*No permission given to repost, rewrite, translate or copy my work or any part of it.

Pretty please, leave your girl some feedback, and if you enjoyed, please, please, please reblog. It is very much appreciated 💖

The God, and The Goddess.

Walter had been living in the office for the past two weeks. This case was taking everything and more from him and his team. You had been bringing cooked dinners and freshly baked goods for them all, as often as you could. Hoping to help them at least a little bit. Being the wife of Detective Marshall, you too, had your part to play.

Every visit you made, you made sure to help the Bear. Shooing him away for food breaks and naps on his office couch, while you watched the camera footage and scribbled down notes. You helped him sort through the case files while he munched on your home made fried rice. You were always better for organising things, so you made sure the files where in alphabetical order, and in easier access.

Last night, they finally caught him. After two weeks of havoc and hard work, the bastard was finally caught and sentenced. Which meant, your Bear was coming home.

Pampering yourself like a worshipped Goddess, you lathered a glittery cream into your skin, before walking back into your bedroom. On the bed lay a single piece of attire. A golden chain. Made to look like a thong, that wrapped around your thighs and waist.

You slide the chain up your legs, and wrap the rest around you waist, before you clip it together and adjust the chains.

Spinning around in front of the mirror, you check how it looked from all angles. With the light shimmer of the sparkly cream, and the glimmer of the chain, you truly looked like a Goddess. Ethereal. And ready to be worshipped.

Taking your hair clip out, you let your locks fall loosely around your head. You ruffle them up a bit, adding some volume. As you spray some perfume over your body, you hear the front door open. Excitement bubbles in your gut, and your heart begins to pound. Placing the perfume bottle down, you give your cheeks a quick few pinches to redden them a little, before waltzing your way down the corridor, to meet your Berserker.

Your fingers glided over the wallpapered walls of the corridor, and you bare feet padded across the wooden floor. Your mind was as quite as the night forest. All you could focus on was the sound of heavy footstep and thudding in the living room. Turning the corner, you stand in the doorway, in all your glory, adorned only in your natural beauty, and a simple golden chain.

You didn't say a word. You waited for him to turn around. To find you on his own accord. You weren't to be a surprise. You were a gift, an offering.

You watched Walter stretch his arms up and out, as he rolled his neck. His joints popped, and he released a satisfied groan. The anticipation of what the Bear would do once he laid eyes on you, had you almost trembling. You tried to keep your breathe steady and low, yet you couldn't help the pure adrenaline rushing through your veins, making your heart hammer against your ribcage.

Toeing his shoes off, Walter pulled at the hem of his sweater, before tugging it off and turning his upper body turned to aim at the couch, tossing it behind him. And that's when he saw you. Standing proudly at the entrance to the room, you, his Goddess, beholding his bare torso with half lidded eyes, body bare, for him to see.

No words were exchanged. No words were needed. You oogled the God before you. Your eyes scanned up and down his body. From his sculpt torso, down his jean clad thighs, his bare feet, and back up to his scruffy face.

Like a magnet, you moved. Every step back you took, he made another towards you. You led him down the corridor, back to your den. His eyes raked over your curves, and the thin chain adorning you body. His hands ached to touch your skin. To grope your rear and snap off that chain. To lay claim on what he couldn't have for so, so long. He missed you. Greatly. So much so, that as soon as you stepped through the bedroom door, Walter found himself directly behind you.

On instinct, his face found itself at the curve of your neck. His nose nuzzled against your skin, inhaling your scent. You lifted your hand and ran your fingers through his tangled curls, holding his head close. At your touch, the God groaned. He missed this. The intimacy. Being alone with you, and having nothing to worry about.

He stepped closer, his bare chest warmed you naked back, causing a shiver to run up your spine, and your breath to hitch. Running his rough hands, gently up the sides of your figure, he kissed your neck, higher and higher, till his beard tickled your ear. "Beautiful," he husked, as his fingers tangled in the jewellery wrapped around you. Lost in his touch, and intoxicated in his masculine, woodsy scent, your body melted into his, like wax, moulding together.

With a harsh yank, his strong arms ripped the chain apart, causing a gasp of surprise to rise to your lips. As the broken chain drops to the floor with a thud, his hands are quick to replace the gold on your skin. His palms stroked over your hips and waist, groping your round rear, and digging his fingers into your squishy thighs.

Guiding you over to the bed, Walter slowly turned you around. His hands sliding across your soft flesh, afraid that if he let go, you'd vanish, like you did in his nightmares.

Your eyes meet his, and your swear the world around you stops. You no longer hear the car horns outside, or the occasional yelling of people, or the yapping of dogs. All you can hear is your blood thrumming through your veins, and all you can see is him. Nothing else matters. Your hands slide up his furry chest, till they find his neck, where they link together, to pull him close.

His lips meet yours. At first the kiss is shy, soft. Only a peck, a soft suck. A loving, gentle touch, gliding down your back. Before the need takes over. And his powerful hands grip the backs of your thighs, and yank you up into his arms. The kiss becomes deeper, desperate. Tongues dancing together in heated passion, to the symphony of your panting breaths and groans of pleasure.

With one hand on your back, he keeps you close, pressed against him, as your arms and legs wrap around his waist and neck, threatening to never let go. Walter climbs onto the bed, with you attached to him like a koala. He lowers you down. His arm snakes underneath your spine, arching it, and holding you close to his chest. While his other reaches down, between your bodies.

A faint sound of a zip is heard over your mewls and his moans. His fingers wrap around his shaft, pulling it out and gliding it through your slick. You hum at the action. Your arms tightening around his neck, your hand curling into his mane, while the other holds onto his shoulder. Pushing in, Walter stretches you wider. Inch by inch. His eyes close in bliss as he sinks into your warm canal. Groaning out like an animal when you envelop his entire length in a tight, wet hug.

Walters face buries itself into your neck. One hand holds you chest to chest, while the other grips onto your thigh. With every plough forward, you cry out into his messy curls, while he grunts and groans into your neck. Warm puffs of air heat up your skin, as he gives you all that he's got.

Your hips moves to meet his. Your beings move together as one. Grinding, rubbing, fucking. Till you swear stars burst around you, exploding like fireworks, illuminating the room, and burning you up with it's heat. Before sizzling and fading away, peacefully. Leaving a calm sky behind.

Frozen in place, you both tremble against one another, panting. Limbs tangled like snakes around trees, taking it all in. Foolish smiles on your faces, as your share a loving, tender kiss. Your hands cup him jaw, while he softly caresses your flushed flesh.

[inthenameofcavill]

Henry Cavill and Reader bringing their baby home for the first time, introducing the baby to Kal and maybe the reader have mini England jersey made so baby matches dad, also maybe a gift from the baby to Kal💕🙏🏻

I’m a person who loves football and kids, every-time I’d get a new niece or nephew I’d always do a welcome home/ welcome to the family gift and if they had a brother/ sister/ pet a gift from the baby to make the new meeting go smooth😍

So, here it is, my first prompt based ficlet for my milestone celebration 🥳

First of all, thank you so much for this lovely prompt @thereisa8ella and for taking part 💜 I had so much fun writing this and I really, really hope you like it! This is for you 🎁 Enjoy!

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Big Brother Kal

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Summary: You and Hen introduce your baby girl to the bear 🐕

Words: ~ 800

Warnings: Besides RPF - none, contains 100% pure fluff

UNBETA'ED! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…

Find my other fics on my Masterlist!

Credits: Pics for the header from pinterest and instagram

*******

You were really nervous when you and Henry drove up to the house, feeling a little silly, because you were pretty sure Kal was going to love the baby, but you just couldn't help it. It was so important to both of you that your dog got along with your newborn right from the start without jealousy or feeling neglected.

"You're alright, darling?" Henry parked the car in front of the entrance and gave you a loving look before taking your hand to press a tender kiss on your fingers.

"Sure, I'm fine. Just feeling a little jittery."

"He's going to adore our little pumpkin, y/n."

"I hope so." You let out a soft sigh. "I'd never expected the moment of bringing our little girl home for the first time to be the hardest part of giving birth," you giggled, trying to push away the feeling of nervousness.

"Are you kidding me?" Henry laughed out loud, his deep voice rumbling through the car. "The hardest part was staying alive while you tried to crush various parts of my body when your contractions turned you into some kind of female Hulk."

"Hey," you grinned, nudging him playfully, "you told me to squeeze your hand or arm or thighs if I thought it would be helpful. Besides that, I think the hardest part was pressing something the size of a melon through a hole hardly the size of a peach."

"See, you did that perfectly with so much strength and grace, you were so strong and tough, the rest is going to be a walk in the park."

You gave your husband a thankful smile, he always knew how to cheer you up and make you feel confident, knowing you better than anybody else.

"You're right, baby, let's do it." You got out of the car and Henry took the baby seat with your little princess who was sleeping peacefully. She was snuggled up in the soft, purple blanket with little White Wolf medaillons printed all over it, the Witcher crew members had given to you as a gift for the birth of your first child.

Henry tugged at the collar of the tiny England football jersey you had dressed your daughter in. "Football…tsk tsk tsk," he whispered to his baby girl, loud enough for you to hear it. "Your mommy is trying to make you a fan, sweet pea, but daddy's gonna show you the real sport soon. Can't wait to dress you in a proper rugby jersey. It will suit you perfectly."

"Too late, Hen. She loves football already," you said laughing.

"Yeah, because you bewitched her with that shirt."

"You're just mad because you didn't come up with the idea first."

Kal interrupted your little banter with a loud bark from behind the closed front door. You took a deep breath and Henry nodded at the door.

"He's waiting for us."

"Yeah. Just a moment." You searched through your bag, pulling out a bone shaped dog toy, handing it over to your husband.

"What's that?" Henry gave you a curious glance.

"That's our little one's present for Kal. A rubber bone you can fill with treats. Give it to him before you introduce him to her, okay?"

"You're trying to bribe him," he grinned.

"Yeah," you admitted, "let's hope it works."

Henry unlocked the door and Kal rushed outside, wagging his tale in excitement, circling the three of you with friendly little woofs. He ran into your arms when you kneeled down to greet the bear. "Hey piglet," you said stroking his thick fur, "how are you doing? I missed you." Kal barked softly in agreement before turning to Henry and the baby.

"Hey mate, look at that," he showed him the baby seat with the toy that was covered by the blanket. Kal started to sniff, licking his snout, running his nose over the seat. "Smells good, right? It's a present from your little sister." Henry lifted the blanket and Kal looked at the baby curiously, forgetting the pleasantly odorous bone for a moment. "You have to take good care of her from now on." Kal stepped closer slowly, touching the baby's soft cheek with his wet nose tenderly, inhaling the scent of the newborn, wagging his tail. He looked at Henry, who stroked his head with a proud smile. "Good boy," he whispered and Kal licked his hand before grabbing the toy with his teeth and running away to figure out how to get to the treats that smelled so heavenly.

You beamed at Henry, beyond happy that this first encounter between your beloved dog and your precious daughter went so well, a tear of relief and joy rolling down your cheek. The next thing you felt was Henry's lips on yours and that was the moment you'd forever remember as the start of your life as the inseparable Cavill family - three ordinary humans and one extraordinary dog.

*******

Tag list

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @kingliam2019 @pandaxnienke @littleone65 @coloraturadiva

[inthenameofcavill]

The Lucky Australian

~~ 24 When You’re Gone ~~

All the mystery and the magic

You light up what once was tragic

And I know that I will miss you when you’re gone

I could never have imagined

Oh the heavens pour with passion

But I know that I will miss you when you’re gone

 Henry moved towards the door as the knocking continued.

Opening the door, he came face to face with Piers. He stood aside allowing his brother to enter the house.

“You know it’s been almost 3 months and barely anyone has seen you.”

Henry closed the door, looking at his brother

“Your point?” The frostiness of his tone not lost on Piers. Henry stopped as Piers turned to look at him.

“I understand Aurora has gone, but you have been absolutely unbearable since.”

“Oh, I’m so fucking sorry that my breakup has impacted you!”

“Jesus, Henry, that’s exactly what I mean, no one can say anything to you about her. You go straight on the defensive, it’s all about you!” Piers said exasperated. Henry rolled his eyes.

“It is about me!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, brother, it’s not about you!” Piers squared his shoulders to look at Henry.

“You think that because you have all this money that everything will somehow be ok. What the fuck do you think you’re going to do once you have a kid? Whose gonna look after it?”

“My wife and I hopefully” Henry answered.

“Really? So while you’re away for 9 months of the year all the responsibility of looking after a child as well as working falls on your wife! What happens when your child wants you home and you cant be?’ Piers asked

“I have thought about this”

“Have you, really? Because I don’t think you have. You think that you can just fly them out whenever to wherever you are. Doesn’t work that way! What about school? What about your wife’s job? What about all the logistics of travelling with a small child, let alone the disruption to their routine?” Piers was on a roll, there was no stopping now.

“Hell, you can’t even take Kal everywhere you go! Why do you expect Aurora or, another woman for that matter to up end their lives for you and for what you want?”

Henry folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

“I would talk about those things, we would’ve figured it out!”

“No, Henry, you would’ve hoped she would’ve figured it out. Have you thought that maybe having kids isn’t for you?” Piers countered.

“George Clooney seems to be doing well.”

Piers rolled his eyes. “He hasn’t worked for quite a few years, because he has kids and understands the importance of being with them!’

“I would be a good parent. Piers!”

Piers huffed and ran a hand over his face.

“No one is denying that Henry, but you haven’t actually thought about any of this, you’ve only romanticized it.”

They both stood and stared at each other, before Henry moved towards the kitchen.

“Have you even asked her what she wants from her life? Maybe kids don’t fit into her plan!”

“For fucks sake Piers, let it go! Is this why you came here? To berate me?” Henry pulled a mug from the cupboard as he turned on the kettle.

“Have you thought that maybe you should’ve asked these questions? Asked what she wants from life? What she wants to do? Did you even ask why she didn’t want kids, rather than flying off the fucking handle?” Piers had never been this insistent before; it was starting to grate on every last nerve Henry had.

“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t fucking be here now, would I?” Henry looked pointedly at Piers.

Setting to cups on the kitchen counter, he poured two cups of tea. Taking a sip he looked at his brother.

“Why did you come here? Besides to piss me off?”

Piers narrowed his eyes.

“I came here, because we’ve decided its time you got out of the house. We’re going on a pub-crawl, and your presence is required. No arguments.”

Henry nodded and took another sip from his cup.

~~~~~~~~~

Henry found himself wandering the house, stopping in different parts of the house and reminiscing about happier times. His bed became a prison, she was there in his waking and sleeping moments, and he could not escape her. Every so often, he swore he would feel her next to him, her weight on the bed next to him, her small frame pressing into his side as she searched for him in her sleep.

 The other times when she would hijack his computer to game away the hours while he worked out or worked on a script, or the times he would find her and Kal curled up and asleep on the lounge together, both of them snuggled into each other and keeping themselves warm. The kitchen lacked the warmth of her cooking, Henry couldn’t help himself, and anything she made he ate, much to the protests of his trainer. It didn’t matter, he had an Italian girlfriend making him food, he wasn’t stupid enough to say no to her or to her food, as much as he should’ve. Aurora made his house more of a home, even with the Loki’s she placed around the place. The God of mischief began popping up in the oddest of places, until he met an untimely demise when Kal got to it. That had started a fairly funny argument where Aurora insisted Henry had convinced Kal to chew it. Henry maintained that it was all an illusion that Loki had created to cause divides amongst them. She brought sunshine to his dark days. She made him laugh and challenged him like no one else did. Every day he learnt something new about her and it kept him fascinated, the music she drowned the house in, what she read, what she loves and hated, even the perfume she wore was his comfort. Now everything was cold and empty.

 Henry felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Rolling his eyes at his brother’s message, he made his way to the bathroom to shower and then change. He was not looking forward to tonight; he really did not want to be anywhere, let alone around people. Still, he had promised he would go out, maybe he could get away after the first pub; make some excuse about being tired. He knew his brothers wouldn’t fall for that, otherwise he could get them as drunk as possible and sneak away before they noticed he was gone. That might work.

~~~~~~~~

Henry walked up to the pub; he could already see his brothers inside. Bracing himself, he put on his best social face.

 After a few hours, it became evident that his brothers weren’t going to let him go quietly into the night; Henry had to deal with them and the constant pursuits from women who were convinced he was single. He was, but he didn’t want any of them. His lonely heart only wanted her, in their little universe playing pool in a pub by the beach. Women were insistent though, not letting him go and clamoring to be near him, following him when he went to the bar. Henry had started to get really annoyed and may or may not have told a few of them to piss off. This was not helped by the fact that his brothers never once came to his defense.

“Well, you did tell her there were other women for you, Henry. Might as well start now!” Charlie said downing the last of his drink.

“Christ, does everyone know about that?”

Charlie nodded.

“Fuck this, I’m going home”. Henry stood up and grabbing his jacket made his way outside, hearing his brothers call after him.

Henry was about to flag down a cab when he felt someone next to him. He looked down to see a blonde woman from earlier who wouldn’t stop in her advances. She wrapped her arm around his.

“Oh, don’t leave! Come back inside!” Henry looked at her, she was quite pretty, but she wasn’t Aurora. Painfully aware he was in public, he smiled at her as he tried to untangle himself from her.

“I’m just calling someone, go back in and I’ll meet you there”

The woman shook her head, and then snaked her arms around his neck pressing herself into him.

“You wont though!”

Henry grabbed her hands and pulled them away from him as his brothers arrived.

“I think you’re friends are waiting for you” Henry said, as the woman pouted and pulled away from him. He walked her to the door and watched her disappear into the crowd.

“Work fast, don’t you?” Nik said. Henry glared daggers at him

“What the fuck is wrong with you lot? What if there’s a pap around her and Aurora sees that?” Henry hissed.

“Then she’ll know that there are plenty of other women and you haven’t wasted any time,” Piers said.

Henry looked at all of them, since when were they not on his side.

“You made a mistake Henry. I hope you know that!” Charlie said as he flagged down a taxi, the night well and truly over.

[inthenameofcavill]

LEAVING ( CAPTAIN SYVERSON)

JUST A LITTLE SOMETHING THAT POPPED INTO MY HEAD, HOPE YOU ENJOY.

CAPTAIN SYVERSON X Y/N

WARNINGS; NONE JUST SOME ANGST.

WORD COUNT:: 2881

ALL MISTAKES ARE MY OWN.

,MIGHT DO A PART 2 IF ENOUGH INTEREST.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Standing outside the grimy rundown bar, the blinking neon lights capturing your teary gaze, distracting you from the man who stood but 2 feet in front of your trembling body, your mind trying to digest the words he spoke just mere moments ago.

You were out celebrating the end of your first year at college with your group of friends when your best friend Sy had pulled you outside to talk, the music and chatter inside the bar making it difficult for you to hear him, you were confused as to why he wanted to speak to you alone, you never had secrets among your group so him not wanting to say what he needed in front of the others left you stumped, but nothing could have prepared you for what left his lips.

Feeling his fingers lightly graze your shoulder snapping you back to reality, tearing your eyes away from the lights you look up to meet his steel blues, tears burning in your own eyes, how could he do this to you.

‘’Say something Y/N, please’’ his voice shaky as he pleaded with you,

You continued to just stare at his face, taking in his every feature, his sharp jawline to the dimple on his chin that you liked to poke whenever you both where messing about, then to his chocolate curls laying messily upon his head, god how many times have you fantasized about running your fingers through those luscious locks, wondering how soft the would feel under your fingertips, not forgetting his plump pink lips with the cute little freckle on his lower lip, how you imagined the softness of those lips smothering your own as he kissed your breath away, but those where only hopes and dreams, he was your best friend nothing more, no matter how much you wished for him to be more, he would never see you as more than just his best friend, the girl who he had known since diapers, that rolled around in the mud on his parents farm, you where basically one of the guys, not some prissy stuckup girl afraid to get dirty or break a nail, the usual girls he seemed to always capture his attention.

You didn’t notice the raindrops starting to surround you both as you stood like a statue in front of him, trying to process his words, ‘’leaving’’ the only word that kept repeating inside your mind, he’s leaving, but not just leaving your hometown, he’s leaving the country, going halfway across the world, thousands of miles away from you.

‘’I can’t do this Sy, I gotta go’’ turning away from his frame as the tears started to flow down your cheeks, you ran across the street ignoring the shouts from Sy, you needed to be as far away from him as possible at this moment, you didn’t want him to see your tears as your heart was breaking into a million pieces, this was not how you saw tonight going, it was supposed to be a night to let free with your friends, enjoy the freedom of no lectures or homework for the next couple of months, the start of a wonderful summer, but all that’s down the drain now, with one little sentence your whole world had collapsed.

Pulling the door open of the parked cab you jump in and slammed the door closed before telling the driver your address, you take one last look out the window toward the man who just broke you, his body slumped over as he watched you drive away, the sight causing the tears to flow harder.

Keep reading

[inthenameofcavill]

I see August is August Walker’s month so here’s a smut.

Summary: Reader finds August Walker, whom she has already hooked up with in the past, and takes him home so he can dick her down.

Pairings: August Walker x reader (1st person pov)

Warnings: unprotected sex (piv), teasing, talk of protection but none is used, size kink, kissing soles of your feet and ripping stockings, cockwarming, oral, sorry this smut is a bit mechanical, i usually write more poetic/sensual ones

Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction, obviously I don’t own the character August Walker or MI6. Tom Cruise probably does.

I opened the door to my apartment, keys jingling and August hot on my heels. My hips felt hands grabbing onto them, causing me to giggle.

"Hey, let me get your coat off," I said, and took it off of him, slightly clumsily. But I felt a little buzz from all that alcohol so I let my hands linger over his shoulders and then trailed them down the muscles of his back. Oh my my, I was so wet.

"Nice place you've got here, babygirl," he said as I hung his thick winter coat over a hook, and hoped that my carpet wouldn't get wet from the melting snowflakes.

"Thank you," I said absentmindedly, and went into the kitchen to get some more wine. I poured it into 2 glasses, and took them into the living room.

"I've only got red wine, is that alright?" I questioned and he nodded. I watched his hair shine in the dull lighting. It was longer than I remembered it being. But the last time I saw him was when I was a freshly minted agent and now I was practically a veteran. A lot had changed since then.

"So you're religious now." He pointed to a book on the table.

"It's my mother's," I said and gave his glass to him. I took his hand and led him to the couch, he took the cue and sat down. The book was resting on his lap. It was an old leather bound book, a photocopy of an original Gutenberg, intended to find me purity.

"I don't believe in any of it but it she does, so I have it here. She was here last night so it's out," I told him. He nodded, his eyes were glued to my chest. August probably knew from my file that I had parents, but it was still awkward to bring them up.

"She's scared for my soul. Thinks it'll protect me somehow," I went on, and slid from the arm of the couch and half into his lap. His gaze was unnerving. I could tell he was just staring at my boobs and really heard nothing. His strong hands gripped my thighs tight. He could wrench my knees open with ease.

"Protect you from what?" He tore his gaze from my chest. I leaned back and further arched my spine from my seat on the arm of the couch. I smirked and replied, "from serial killers and all the big city mumbo jumbo."

August was like a leaking gas pipe, and I needed to be the spark so we could explode.

So I leaned closer to him, and placed the book on the coffee table so that I could take its place on his lap.

"And of course, men like you." I whispered. I straddled him. My fingers went to feel his scruffy face.

"Men like me?" He smirked. His hands creeped between my legs, and I instinctively tried to close them. He tsk-ed, and found my covered pussy.

He wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me closer till our lips were almost touching. I tried to grind into his hand.

"Be patient," He ordered, and moved away as I tried to kiss him. I whined and went in for another kiss but he held me back. "Tell me what I do to you. Your cunt is dripping."

I whined at his choice of words.

"Answer me, baby," he said, and smirked at me. His fingers stroked my clothed clit, making me squirm for more pressure.

"You make me want to-," I stuttered, "do things to you." He laughed at this, mirth in his blue eyes.

"I've heard you say things that would make the madame of a whorehouse blush. Try harder."

"August, you know what I mean," I slapped my hands on his chest.

"What I got from that is you need my cock to put you to bed tonight?" He said, and I nodded like the good girl I was.

I reached over and grabbed my glass of wine, and drank it in one gulp. I wasn't done putting it back when he pulled me into him, and smashed his mouth onto onto mine. The glass landed with a thud on the carpet, but that was the last thing on my mind.

His lips were firm, and as I kissed back I felt delightfully lightheaded. His whiskers rubbing against my soft cheeks reminded me just how soft, weak and pliable I was, compared to him.

He took my bottom lip between his teeth, and softly bit me. I tried to get in control of our movement and pulled his hair so he stayed still. I rose on my knees, so that I could kiss on him. I rested my hands on his shoulders, and reveled in the tone of his strong muscles moving under his skin. His hands found my butt and he squeezed me. I let out a gasp and he took this as an invitation to get some tongue going on.

I moved my lips against his in the most sensual way I could, occasionally pulling back then going in again. But he was an even better kisser than I was. Oh my, that beard drove me crazy.

The way he kissed me left me dizzy, and yearning for so much more. His lips found my neck, and I tilted my head to give him better access. He placed open mouth kisses down its length until he found my collar bone and began sucking at my sweet spot right under it. My knees bucked under me and I pulled his hair harder.

"Ah," I let out a shaky breath, and tried to push him off of me, but he bit me to leave a mark. I moaned; the small make out session was enough to make me very dizzy. My legs gave in completely and I collapsed into his arms.

He pulled down my dress a little more, and kissed between my breasts.

"So, so, beautiful," he mumbled, admiring the bruises he left on me. He cupped one breast through the cloth and squeezed a little.

"Lay back and let me see what's new, babygirl." He whispered, hands going to undo the clasps of my dress. 

"No, wait," I said, and grabbed his bicep, "bedroom," I demanded. He didn't reply, but hooked an arm under the knees and placed one behind my back so he could carry me bridal style. I threw my arms around his neck and pushed off as much of the shirt I could. I placed a kiss to his warm skin, and rubbed his chest hair between my fingers.

He gently let me onto the bed and took a step back, shrugging off his shirt, then my dress. 

The cool air over my body brought out my insecurities, so I sat on the bed and pressed my knees over my chest pretending to take the stockings off.

"Do you particularly care about these?" August asked me, as he knelt in front of me. His hands found my ankles and he dragged them till my knees were hanging over the edge of the bed. I hoped he found me prettier than last time.

"Do you, baby?" He asked, towering over me, and fidgeting with the waistband.

"No, not really," I said, and he pushed me down onto my back. 

"Good," he said, and knelt down again. He took my right foot in the palm of his hand and abruptly ripped the cloth off of me. It shocked me but the sound made me insanely turned on. I couldn't really see what he did but I had a pretty good idea from touch. He continued till my calf was fully bare, and placed a kiss at the hollow between my toes and heel. He pressed kisses into my skin until he reached my knee, then tore the rest.

I might’ve been his prey tonight, but I wasn't going down without a fight. 

"Take your pants off," I demanded from my spot on the bed.

"Does it look like you're in a position to make demands?" He said, and lightly slapped the inside of one thigh. I involuntarily spread my legs a little. He put his fingers under the hem of my panties and tugged them off. I closed my legs instinctively, but his grip on my knees made me fully exposed. He spread my legs and held them in place, before running a finger down my folds. I wriggled my hips but it didn't work.

"You're so wet baby, how long has it been?" He asked me, and chuckled but I got no time to reply. He hooked a hand around my knees and pulled me till where his lips were over my clit. I yelped and squealed, my hands in his hair. He softly sucked on my clit, and occasionally took it between his teeth. One hand held me down, while the other had two fingers knuckles deep in me. The combination of his fingers in me, and the gentle suction had me writhing.

“Fucking hell, August.”

His fingers curled in me making a 'come hither' motion. My hands crumpled the sheets under me. I screamed as he increased the pace, and a soft blow of cool air over the abused skin was enough to tip me over the edge. My vision blurred, and my back arched, and I sunk back into the bed with stars in my eyes. As it wore off, I saw him, now without his pants and a freakin tent in his boxers, looking strangely concerned.

"That was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen."

"So are you gonna keep standing there or come here and fuck me?" I demanded. 

I sat up, and he pushed me back into the bed, lips on mine. The feel and taste of him on me made me more drunk than the half bottle of wine did. His hand reached behind me to unclip my bra, and I let him. His mouth found my hard nipples, and I tried to palm him through his boxers. I hooked my toes under the strap and tugged them down partially. To my defense, there wasn't much thinking going on with this mouth on my bare skin. And I had to get him naked somehow. To my pleasure, he took them off himself.

"Protection?" I stopped kissing him to ask. His dick was pressing into my upper thigh as he hovered over me.

"Don't you have any?" He asked. His hair fell over his face, his pink lips turned red like crushed raspberries. I pushed his shoulder until he was on his back, and I could straddle him.

"Are they in your pants or what?" I asked, kissing down his sternum and abs till I reached the happy trail. His breath quickened as I kissed his lower abdomen, and my hands wrapped themselves around his cock. I pressed a kiss to the tip, and loved the whine he made. He seemed a lot bigger than I remembered, making me wonder if it would fit in me.

"None of that today, c'mere," he pulled me up by my hair, and I refused to kiss him.

"How long has it been, huh?" I teased back. But the elephant in the room was whether I'd let him fuck me without a condom. Actually it was whether I'd let him take me at all, because the monster pressing against me stood hard, and an inch beyond my belly button.

"You'll pull out?" I asked, and my hands were still where they really shouldn't have been. I was just trying to gage how thick he was; no amount of lube could get me comfortable. But there's no pleasure if it doesn't hurt even just a little. I ran my hand up and down his shaft, and he grabbed my wrists in warning. I leaned down and kissed his Adam's apple, then the hollow between his collar bones.

Before I knew it, I was on my back and I squealed at the sudden movement.

"What was that for?" I asked, and my reply was a kiss. I wrapped a leg around his waist, and spread the other just enough so he could fit between them. His head was now probing at me, and I moaned in anticipation.

"Do something," I said, and whimper as he kissed my neck furiously. His hands gripped my hips and he pressed himself at my entrance. I bucked my hips to take more of him.

"You’re so huge," I whimpered, but eagerly awaited him.

"I'm not pulling out." August warned. That dick, he just wanted to get me desperate.

"Fuck me," I said, and he did. I felt his tip probing me, and it began pushing against the resistance of my muscles. The feel of him stretching me took my breath away, but he was barely halfway there.

"Fuck babygirl you're so wet, and so warm," he said into my ear, and bit the earlobe. I let out a strangled moan in response. He slid into me, and I cried out. The places he found in me were only open to him. I wrapped my legs around him tighter and hooked my ankles.

He withdrew fully, before slamming into me once again. His thrusts were slow but powerful, and left me yearning for more. My veins were on fire with pleasure. "August, please," I begged. 

I angled my hips to take him deeper like a true masochist. He encouraged me, telling me in groans how well his little slut could take his cock. His deep thrusts were brutal, making me cry out as my walls dragged against his shaft. 

"Take your pleasure from me. Go harder," I moaned. One hand came to cup my face and he kissed my lips. He drove himself home, and I whimpered at the sharp pain it brought. I felt like I was being split open in half. I'd missed this. 

I kissed back and parted my lips, and his tongue pushed into me just like his cock had. I was overwhelmed but my body welcomed the intruder. While kissing me fully, he continued his assault on me. I moaned and whimpered, both in pleasure and in pain, but they were swallowed by his mouth on mine. My hips bucked to match his thrusts, and my finger nails left angry marks over his back. 

His fingers worked little figure 8's over my clit. I didn't think I could come again after that fantastic orgasm, but I could feel myself getting there once more, and I barely had time to tell him before I came loudly. My walls contracted and I gripped him. He felt burning hot and insanely hard inside me.

"Do that again," he said, and I clenched around him. His thrusts were now sloppy, but still too much for me. I tried to get away but he held my hips in place, and groaned before slamming all the way into me. I was very sensitive and the stretch was too much, my eyes watered. He found resistance, but he roughly pushed into me anyway. They didn't call him The Hammer for no reason. 

I screamed as I felt myself opening up to him even more, and he was buried deep into me. “Augie, you’re too big, he’s splitting me open.”

"I need your cum, baby. Mark me as yours," I whispered to him, all thoughts of birth control off my mind as I spread my thighs. 

He came moaning my name, and flooding me with his warmth. It soothed my raw insides. He didn't pull out, but collapsed onto me.

I threaded my hands through his hair, and kissed his shoulder. But I didn't dare move my hips, because he was still in me deep, and I when I looked down I could faintly see the line of the monster lodged in me. It was very, very hot and now I knew how sex rearranged your insides.

"You're too heavy," I complained and he placed a hand between my shoulder blades and flipped us so I was lying on his chest. His skin was slightly sticky but warm.

He reached to pull the covers over us, and wrapped his arms firmly around me. I felt tiredness wash over me.

"Aren't you gonna pull out?" I asked. I could've done it, but I liked how he burned in me, and how hard and strong he felt in and under me.

"No, keep my cock warm darling. Besides, it'll make it easier for us in the morning," he said and kissed my head. I snuggled into him.

"Did you have to come in me?" I asked, and slapped his chest lightly.

"I'll come on your boobs tomorrow if that's gonna please you," August teased and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Will I wake up to morning wood?" I asked. He was softer inside me now, and it was surprisingly nice. If any of his cum leaked I'd have to lick it off, so I didn't mind.

"Is that even a question?" He continued, "sleep, love, you'll need the energy tomorrow."

I laid my cheek against his chest, and he played with my hair till I feel asleep in his arms, stuffed like a turkey but warm and content.

[inthenameofcavill]

coffee and ink

What is grief, if not love persevering? A girl sits alone at a table meant for two, and even the sorrow reminds her of him.

Word Count: 595 Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC Warnings: Death, angst without a happy ending.

A girl sits at an empty desk in a lonely house. A steaming mug of coffee sits next to the blank notepad on her desk. The air is scented with earthy espresso and dear melancholia. The only sounds are the scrawling of pen against paper and her soft breath. She touches a ring she wears on a chain next to her heart, lets out a shaky sigh, and sets pen to paper.

I found the old coffee percolator on the last shelf today. Remember when I found it in the corner of that grocery and you said I’d never use it? I did use it. I had to go out to get the specific kind of coffee you liked. I know I never admitted it, but you were right - it does taste better than all the others. The lady at the shop recognized me. Well, she recognized your sweater and figured it was me. I didn’t know you two were such good friends. You must be the wife, she said, and then asked why you hadn’t come by in a while. I had to tell her. I got the coffee for free, which was nice. The look she gave me when I stepped out didn’t feel very nice. The walk did me good though. I never understand why you liked the early morning runs but I kind of do now.

The girl stops to take a sip of the brew, the sweater she has on doing little to keep away the chill she has been feeling in her bones. The mug is warm between her hands, and she holds it there for longer than needed. The band on her finger is frigid, and her hands shake as she picks up the pen again.

I made the coffee the way you liked it. It’s still too bitter for me, but then you never really had taste as a priority did you? It’s awful, and I wish I could’ve told you how much I hate it. Everything’s awful, Walt. The house feels so desolate. The bed is always cold and I can’t get it warm. The phone is always ringing and I have to talk to so many people. I don’t know what to tell them. I don’t know how to tell them. Faye won’t talk to anyone. I don’t know what to tell her either. There’s a pile of papers waiting for me in your office. I don’t know what to do with them. I don’t know how to do this without you. Dr. Davis said I should write to you, that it would help. It’s not fucking helping. Nothing’s fucking helping anymore-

A girl throws a pen down on a notepad in a lonely house. She watches as the ink flows over the words, mixing with the tears that litter the page. She scrambles, reaches hastily for a tissue, something, anything to clean up the mess, and then brown meets black on white. She sinks back down, watches the coffee spill over the desk, onto her jeans, onto the floor. The air smells like fresh coffee and stale ink. The girl touches the ring she wears on a chain next to her heart, lets out a shaky sob and pulls her shivering arms around herself. Later she’ll scrub the wood clean, mop the floors and write another letter to throw into the fire, but for now, she closes her eyes and breathes in deeply the strangely familiar scent of her late husband, and just for a split second, it feels like maybe he never left.

[inthenameofcavill]

THE PROMPT FAIRY RETURNS!!

Today's prompt is a bit of a long one

Sy's / Walter's / geralt's / August's wife being mistakenly told he's dead (blame watching nanny mcphee and the big bang for this one)

Have fun

Summary: In the aftermath of August’s death you are lost.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx. 1.1k

Warnings: Mentions of death and almost implied smut, Angst

Authors note: Thanks you prompt fairy. And shock horror! Its not a Sy fic! I hope you enjoy this one.

SORRY I FORGOT WARNINGS!

Thanks to @henryobsessed and @amberangel112 for the reads. Your input is always appreciated

Masterlist

The Piper

Curling your fingers around the soft brown dirt you turned to the six foot deep rectangular hole in the ground. You squatted low, dropping the dirt onto the rich mahogany coffin, empty but for a few photographs and a wedding ring. You stayed a moment, looking, wondering where he really was. Was he still in Kashmir? Parts strewn across the deep ravines. Had he floated down river? Perhaps washed up in India or Pakistan, a horrific sight to be found by some children playing or food for a tiger.

You would never know. Yet, even on this day, you couldn’t shed a tear. You knew August, your lover, partner, husband, and you couldn’t believe he was dead. But it had been months with no word, and your hope was failing.

A hand was held out to you. One of the few mourners present and participating in the funeral. You knew he would be a work colleague, August had no real friends, the ones he did have wouldn’t risk showing themselves today. Not that these workmates would be there to grieve, they were there to take names, monitor suspicious behaviour, find accomplices.

As you stood, you thought about the days following August’s failed attempt to bring about peace. You were questioned, thoroughly, roughly at times. They even called Sloane was called in, a failed attempt to show you a friendly face to get more information, there was no more. You had done what August had told you to do and given them everything, his computer, his safety deposit box, and full access to the apartment. “For your sake, keep nothing back, Petal.”

You went straight home after the burial, there was no reception. What would be the point? You were the only one to care for him, the only one who remembers his name with fondness and love. You stripped off your widows black and crept into bed, sending a prayer that perhaps you wouldn’t wake.

The shrill ring of your phone woke you with a start. You rubbed your eyes, smearing the dark eyeliner you hadn’t bothered to remove. You let the call ring out before you picked it up, shocked you had slept 18 hours. You went to the bathroom, your bladder screamed at you, before you picked up the phone again returning the call.

It was picked up straight away, August’s lawyer spoke his greeting before giving his instructions. You waited, not wanting to hang up, you wanted to ask him, maybe he would know.

“Have you heard…” you started before being cut off.

“One hour,” was his reply.

Shaking your head, you berated yourself. How could you ask such a thing? August would be disappointed in you. The thought made you cringe, made you want to curl back into yourself. You looked at the bed, sheets twisted as if you had been making love all night, but the untouched pillow next to yours told the real, empty truth, you will never feel his touch again. Never to feel his hand’s brutal caress, never to hear his grunted demands from his whiskered lips, never to see his blistering blue eyes baring his soul for you, never to taste his sweat covered skin and never to wake with the scent of him between your legs.

You very nearly gave in, nearly called the lawyer back to reschedule. But you had to know if he left you something. A final message, a clue, confirmation, hope, anything. Eyeing the shower, you couldn’t muster the energy. You pulled on some tights, a dark sweater dress and flats, and ignoring your hair, used your finger to wipe away the panda eyes before brushing your teeth.

The train was full, you didn’t realise it was peak time and hardly noticed the feeling of eyes on you as you stood pressed against the crowd, a hand curled around the cold metal pole. You were used to that feeling by now after having agents follow you for weeks after Kashmir. You thought about trying to lose them, but again August had warned you against that.

You thought you had slept enough, but the gentle sways of the train lulled your eyes closed, the announcement of the station forcing your eyes back open with a jolt. Passengers left as more boarded and one of them catches your eye as the doors begin to close. You blinked several times as a slightly familiar face walked past and moved into the next carriage.

It couldn’t be, you were seeing what you wanted to see. But your gaze followed the man. His height was right, but his walk all wrong, he was a little thin, his hair was darker and so long it began to curl beneath the baseball cap darkening his face. You couldn’t look away as the man turned to you.

Not daring to breath, you got lost in the spectral mirage before you. Everything was different, the mostly full beard, the new scars on his cheek and forehead, missing half an eyebrow that would never grow back and the sickly pale hue to his skin. But his eyes, his eyes were the same, cold, and calculating at first appearance, but full of deep tumultuous passions lurking below the surface.

You took a step toward him, and you got an almost imperceptible shake of the head. His eyes flicked to the doors, and he moved towards them. He looked straight ahead, so you did too and waited for what seemed like eternity before the next station arrived. You glanced at him to make sure, and you watched him step out onto the platform, so you did the same. He didn’t look at you as he made his way up the stairs to the street, but you followed, your legs threatening to give way as you were led like a child behind the piper.

For two city blocks you followed him before he turned a corner, you jogged to catch up and just caught him as he entered a non-descript, tidy but old apartment building. There were no elevators, so you climbed the stairs and rounding the first flight he stood at the end of the hall, holding open a door.

Putting an arm against the hallway wall for support you approached him slowly, knees weak, you felt as if you were wading through a river upstream. You stopped in the doorway unable to go further as you were mesmerised by the vision in front of you. Your hand shook as you lifted it to his marred cheek, his jaw clenched as you touched him, his chest puffed, and his nostrils flared. The skin beneath your trembling fingers was bumpy, hard, and still bright pink from healing.

“You’re real,” you breathed as you felt the sharp sting of tears fill your eyes and spilled onto your cheeks. “You’re alive.”

August’s lips curled into a smirk, “Did you ever really believe I’d leave you?”

Tag List 1

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound @sofiebstar @sweetlybigdragonn @bloodyinspiredfuck @marantha @diegos-butt @greensleeves888 @endofalldays01 @justaboringadult @ysmmsy @offroadinjandals @littlewrenofrivia @pussyverson @foxyjwls007 @kebabgirl67

[inthenameofcavill]

LOVE YOUR FICS! I’m a big fan!

Can I give you an idea? What about Sy and reader doing the deed while getting turned on by a sex tape they made? Reader is kind of shy then gets into it.

Summary: Sy finds an old sex tape you made together and you aren’t happy.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: approx. 1.5k

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), dirty talk, a bit of fluff at the end

Authors note: Thanks anon for your ask, I hope you enjoy it. Beta read by the wonderful @amberangel112 thanks for waking up to read this 😝 and for giving me a title. Edited by me and I’m tired! There will be errors!

Masterlist

I Know It By Heart

“Hey Darlin’!” You heard Sy shout through the house from the bedroom. You were just cleaning up in the kitchen, turning on the dishwasher, so you switched the lights off, and went upstairs. You were planning on going to bed anyway.

“Yeah,” you called to Sy as you made your way to your room.

“Come ‘ere wouldja?”

“I’m here,” you said as you entered the bedroom. Sy was ready for bed, with loose pyjama pants on and nothing else. He sat relaxed against his pillows, one arm lazily behind his head while the other held the television remote. Your eyes raked over his body as you entered your closet to change, still strong and firm as it was when you first met him five years ago.

“Look at what I found,” Sy said, his voice held an excitement that was all too familiar. You rolled your eyes as you wondered what kind of new you tube rabbit hole he had fallen into. You remembered his last obsession, watching urban explorers, which had started out fun and mostly interesting, until he kept making you watch them over and over again.

You stuck your head out of the closet wearing only your underwear and lifting one of his old t-shirts over your head. You heard him growl as you lowered your arms and pulled the shirt down. You suppressed the smirk that threatened your lips, you loved it when Sy made noises like that, when he showed you he still wanted you just as much as he had when you first got together.

Looking at the tv you blinked several times, shocked at what you saw. “Oh no Sy! You said you deleted that!” You rounded on him, furious and if you were honest, a little hurt. “You promised.”

Not even having the decency to look ashamed he said, “I couldn’t do it. It’s too fuckin’ good.” He was clearly telling the truth there, as you saw his pants twitch as he grew harder.

You tore your eyes away from his cock, you didn’t want to get side-tracked and you were dangerously close to being distracted already. Seeing the tent grow in his pants, you had started to feel the familiar tightening deep in your gut and heat washed over you.

“Come ‘ere,” Sy said, taking advantage of his low seductive drawl that he knew made you weak.

“No Sy, turn it off,” you said, harshly. “Delete it like you said you would.” You went back into the closet, pulling out your winter pyjama’s despite the warm evening, wanting to cover up. Fuck him if he thinks he can get away with that. You heard a moan, loud and erotic before you heard Sy’s deep groan and your back stiffened. You stormed back into the bedroom.

“Turn it… Fuck,” your protests died in your mouth as you took in Sy, naked now, his thick pulsing cock in his hand as he lazily stroked it. Anger mixed with desire as you stood mesmerized at the sinful tableau he made.

“Do you know how many times I’ve jerked off to this?” he asked, glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the screen. “How many times it kept me just this side of sane when things got too rough.”

Part of you softened, it was why you made the video with him about four years ago. He was going on his last deployment, you knew it would be a long one, 12 months at least, you would be apart for as long as you were together. As a parting gift, you said he could film you both fucking to help him through the long, lonely nights you were separated.

“I know it by heart,” Sy continued with a chuckle. “But I never got bored, if anythin’ it made me want you more.” He looked at you again, “This was my second favourite bit.”

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes went to the screen. You remembered making the video but had never watched it before. This part he had gotten you to film, and your core started throbbing as you saw Sy’s mouth clamped hard over your clit, his jaw working as he sucked on you, three fingers deep in your core. You let out a moan as you heard Sy on the video.

Make sure you film your face when you cum Darlin’.

You bit your lip as you watched Sy replace his mouth on you, his speed increasing, his eyes hungry. After a few moments the camera moved and your face filled the screen, the footage was shaky, sometimes missing your face altogether as your head rolled from side to side. But then you stilled, your jaw dropping, your eyes squinting shut as you shouted your release.

You’re so fuckin’ hot.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” Sy said in your ear, while the same words echoed on the screen. You jumped, you hadn’t heard him approach you as you were consumed by the pornographic images of you. Sy’s hands were on your waist guiding you to the bed.

Lick yourself off my beard.

Sy stood behind you, your knees against the mattress and he slid your underwear down your thighs. You no longer complained as you saw yourself kneeling between Sy’s legs and you took his cock within your mouth.

Fuck Darlin’, you look so God damn good.

Your shirt was raised over your head, and you felt Sy reach between your legs. He groaned in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ wet, Darlin’.” Rocking your hips at his touch you leaned against him, bringing his other arm up to your breasts and he roughly kissed your neck, his teeth sinking into your soft flesh. He bent you over the bed, and you kneeled at the edge. “Keep watchin’,” he ordered as you felt him slide his velvety soft head over your eager core.

You’re gonna make me cum… No, I’m gonna cum in your warm tight cunt.

Sy slid into you, your unprepared tight walls yielded to his cock with a satisfyingly agonizing stretch. Feeling him tear into you, filling you uncomfortably made you cry out as you watched him to the same to you on screen. In the same position as you were now, you could see your core strained around his thickness, and you moaned knowing he saw the same thing now.

Sy you feel so good… Oh God harder… Fuck me Sy.

“I used to listen to you say that over and over,” Sy said. He slipped a hand between your legs, sliding through your wet folds until he found your little nub. “Beggin’ for me, to fuck you. Fuck, it made me cum so hard,” Sy grunted as his fingers danced over you, while his hand dug deep into your hip, bringing you back to meet his thrusts. His raw, rapid drives were feral with need and made your body feel hot as the tightness in your gut grew fiercer. Your cried out as your ass stung, Sy slapping your ass before kneading and soothing it with his hardened paw.

Fuck you’re squeezin’ me tight… You gonna cum?

“Yeah, just like how you’re squeezin’ me now, Darlin’. You get so fucking tight when you’re gonna cum.” You called your agreement, nodding as you felt yourself rise to the summit, so close to precipice as his rhythm increased and all you could to was try and stay on your knees, the force of his thrusts nearly impossible for you to resist.

Cum for me Darlin’… I wanna feel it.

With a wordless, senseless cry you fell over the edge, body pulsing as you shattered around Sy’s brutal cock. Your shout echoed through the room, as you reached your peak on screen. “Fuck,” Sy growled from behind you, as he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. Both hands now on your hips he brought your weary body to meet his and within moments he came, slamming himself deep within you, rolling his hips with each pulse of his release, calling out your name.

You both fell, sated, breathless onto the bed, pulling each other into a hug, you laid your head on Sy’s chest, loving listening to his heartbeat as it slowly returned to normal. You heard yourself giggle and looked at the screen again. You were in the same position, Sy must have had the phone still in his hand trained on your face, but you don’t remember him filming this.

Whatcha laughing at Darlin’?

“You recorded after it too?” you asked, lifting your head to look at Sy. His eyes were closed, but he grinned.

Nothing, I’m just imagining you watching this back later.

“This was my favourite bit,” Sy replied, cracking an eye open. “Listen.”

Hmmm You got a message for me when I do Darlin’?

I love you, Sy… Come home to me.

Tag List 1

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound @sofiebstar @sweetlybigdragonn @bloodyinspiredfuck @marantha @diegos-butt @greensleeves888 @endofalldays01 @justaboringadult @ysmmsy @offroadinjandals @littlewrenofrivia @pussyverson @foxyjwls007 @kebabgirl67