#Henry cavill reader insert

[nouearth]

red right hand.

pairing. henry cavill x male reader.

word count. 7.3k.

summary. if there was one thing to give your dad credit for (other than helping create your very existence), it was that he has an insanely hot best friend. it was a universal admiration your neighborhood shared with one another. though, how many actively feasted upon their fantasies regarding that hunk of a man? probably only you, because mr. cavill was more than a crush, he was an addiction. and on one summer day, mr. cavill realized that so were you.

content warning. college!reader, dad's best friend!henry, neighbor!henry, age gap, blowjob (r!giving), degrading, throat-fucking, choking, gagging, spitting, kissing, humiliation, body and muscle worship, rough-play, size difference, dirty talk, verbal, praising, size kink.

The warm wind fanned the sweat off your forehead when you slid your window open. The ledge stained your fingers with particles of dust. Grimacing at the fuzz and simultaneous stickiness, it also provoked a storm of laziness as steel reminders from your dad got caught up in the commotion: CLEAN THE HOUSE.

CAR MAINTENANCE.

STOP ORDERING TAKE-OUT AND COOK.

SORT THE ATTIC.

TIDY GARAGE.

CHECK STOVE IGNITIONS BEFORE LEAVING THE HOUSE.

LOCK THE DOORS.

Ya-dah, ya-dah…

Honestly, how could you check-off any of these tasks with this heatwave currently going on? You were sweating bullets, been sweating enough to bathe in your own salt for days now—which you technically were already doing. It was summer, the long-awaited season after the agony of allergies. A temporary relief to your studies as well, until the humidity hit you like a truck and made you realize that living back in a dorm wasn’t so bad. 

At least the building had a functional air-conditioner. 

“Uh-huh, yep.” Your dad’s voice was going in one ear and out the other as you rummaged through your cabinets for a snack. Cereal; stale. Canned meat; too heavy. Potato chips; not heavy enough. “Dad, you know you’ve gone on business trips before, right? This isn’t the first time I’ve been alone.”

“I know, but I’m just making sure. It’s a new house, and I’ve been watching these true crime documentaries about men leaving clubs and—“

“Well, the first mistake was going to a sketchy club in the first place…” You muttered, peering into the fridge, and then lingering, because refrigerator air has never felt so cooling against your skin. You duck your head to puzzle yourself into the cold box, dumbfounded that the heat had gotten you irritated enough to claim a bag of deli meat as your bunkmate for the time being. The sound of your dad’s frustrated sigh on the other line curled your frown into a smile, and you laughed, “I’m a big boy. Stop worrying, and go enjoy—Ow!“ You bumped your head against the door on your way out.

“How can I not worry when you just referred to yourself as a ‘big boy?’ Not even a man?!” You never realized how theatric the man was. It was like his presence never left the house, exaggerated hand movements and all wafting the smell of his homemade meals whenever he would scold you in his favorite place: the kitchen. You smiled at the fond memories.

“Good point—“ Though they were made at your old house, you were sure that once he’d returned, your dad wouldn’t be opposed to creating new memories of scolding your ass off on whatever trouble you’d get into. If you do, that is. You’ve grown since then, finding yourself too tired to socialize.

“Remember, spare key’s in the birdhouse. There’s a compartment at the side of it. Hopefully birds haven’t evolved enough to pick it open.”

“If they have, they’d be picking at our locks right now to kidnap me and probably feast on my body.” Luckily, the fridge was stocked before your dad had left. You crucified him for being overly-prepared at times, but for this month, it was an exception. You picked at a slice of deli meat and cheese, and stuffed it down your mouth.

“Not funny, (M/N).”

“I’m kidding, Dad. Lighten up! I know you’re nervous about presenting, but they invited you to talk to an audience for a reason. They like you. Just be yourself, and remember not to speak so fast. Have some water on standby too.” And speaking of the devil, you gulped down a glass of iced water to cool down your body as your dad chuckled in your ear.

“I know, I know, thanks.” A muffled sound on the other end filled the silence, sounds of people passing and cars honking passing through your ear. “Alright, my ride’s here. I’ll call as soon as I get to the hotel, okay? You better answer—Oh! I forgot to tell you! Henry’s coming over later to look at the car.”

“Henry—Oh, Mr. Cavill? He’s in the neighborhood?” The name rattled a familiar feeling inside of your stomach. Something rather warm, suddenly ravenous when you thought about the last time you saw him.

“Actually, he was the one that told me about this house! He lives down the street. But tool’s in the garage if he asks for them, okay?” 

“Y-yeah, okay. Got it.” You hadn’t seen him many times. Only when you’d come home from semester breaks, yet the mere mention of his name had you flustered as if he was a long-lost friend or something. 

“Okay, gotta go. Love you, and remember, lock your doors! Bye!”

“I will! Bye…” Your phone blinked back to your previous app after ending the call.

You knew he was your dad’s best friend; a divorced father and a bachelor unsurprisngly made a match in heaven.

He was someone that shared your father’s interest in tabletop games and comic books. A replacement for yourself you thought earlier on, but he was way more knowledgeable about those interest than you ever were. You grew up on your dad’s nostalgia. For Mr. Cavill and your dad? These memories altered them who they would be in the future.

He was a friend that would help your dad out on building projects, like that birdhouse he had mentioned. He was a charming man that built the PC you currently use after hearing you complain about the previous laptop you had. And best of all, his looks were as abundant as his kindness. Standing over six feet tall, with a chiseled face that matched an equally sculpted body; he’d been a little crush since you first met him, being the only man who was capable of rendering you utterly speechless.

And in present, the only man who had the power to tighten your briefs and shorts with only a passing thought of his body; muscular and athletic in all the right places. If only your dad could somehow muster up a beach day before summer ended. Either way, the image of his bare body excited you, the blood flow immediately rushing south in agreement. Your dick kissed your shorts at the thought water cascading off his hulking body like meltwater over an ice shelf, freezing you in your place to not-so-subtly gawk.

“Jesus…” Your body couldn’t catch a break, could it? With the ramping heat and the constant sweating, your erection only added fuel to the bonfire that was the pores of your skin. Your cock pulsed madly within the constraint of your briefs, teasing yet begging to be released, to be sheathed from its slick, because it knew you had the key to its relief.

Or rather, Mr. Cavill did.

It was pathetic. You’d been at this for a year now. As much as you were unfamiliar with Mr. Cavill’s disposition, it was certainly the opposite regarding his physical appearance. Though it hadn’t exactly occur to you when this crush of yours had been tiptoeing along the lines of obsession. 

Wait, was it an obsession..? No, no, it was just a crush. 

You hadn’t done anything wrong. All you had done was browse through his social media—he did follow you, and you mutually pursued—and stalked—no—scrolled through his posts. Thank god, he was an avid poster. Pictures of his selfies, his knack for grilling, his love for his pet dogs, his pride over his geeky hobbies, his friendship with your dad and mutual buddies—all of these pieces attributed to allowing you to get to know him more as you were rotting away on campus, missing life back at home. Like clockwork, looking at his feed brought a sense of comfort, a hope that maybe you could be part of his life as well.

“God, what I’d do to ride that mustache…” You blurted out your thoughts, hyper-aware that you were alone in the house. You’d been waiting for this. You’d been surrounded by your roommates 24/7, and then once break started, your dad wanted to insert himself into your schedules as much as he could before the next semester starts. 

As much as you loved them, you needed space. A space bigger than the privacy of your own room. You deserved the whole house to yourself after enduring months of agony from overdue assignments; stress from bickering roommates that led to chaos within the dorm. You haven’t jerked off properly in months, often resorting to a quick session that comforted you on the occasions you’d have to pull multiple all-nighters to get a project done.

You needed relief.

You needed pleasure.

“Fuck,” Your eyes had been fixated on Mr. Cavill’s social media feed as you stripped yourself free of clothing. On one hand, it helped your body cool off from the heat building in the house. On the other, you felt vulnerable, like someone could walk in on you any second, and god, was that a turn-on. 

A grid of his life displayed happily before you, and your thumb scrolled aimlessly in pursuit of multiple pictures ingrained in your brain that had your cock throbbing in your palm. You laid flat on the couch, earbuds fit snug in the canals after briefly switching apps to play your favorite porn in the background of your search. Your stomach sunk deep when the man began moaning in your ears. Hot like the blistering sun outside; you can imagine Mr. Cavill breathing against you like that, as you took his cock in like the video you had playing. Your balls pulled when the man grunted, “Right there,” and you couldn’t help but pull at the ache of your cock, then at your balls to fondle at the loose stretch of skin.

“Right there,” you repeated when your thumb paused at the desired video of Mr. Cavill. Another major part of his lifestyle was working out. Strength training, cardio, marathons. You name it, Mr. Cavill did it all, exceptionally well, and the crème de la crème of it all was that he bared his torso for most of his videos. “Fuck, you’re so big… Fuck, fuck…” 

It was like watching a warrior prepare for battle. Sweat dripped off the holiest parts of his body as he pumped his muscles with heavy weights. Grunts, heavy and lewd sounds filled your ears while Mr. Cavill powered through his body’s resistance. You wondered to yourself if he could take you like that. Force you to take him with brute strength like the weights in his muscular, veiny hands. You were stroking yourself to him, every part of him, palm slick with sweat and spit. Two fingers would get the job done, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. Though, you knew deep down that it would take more than that. Three, or maybe even four, considering the hunk of a man was seemingly built from metal. The video replayed multiple times before you remembered that he had more than enough content for you to jerk off to. You were barely five minutes in, but this was already more pleasurable than whatever you had endured back at the dorms. Your cock felt pleased, spitting out dribbles of thick pre-cum that loosened the stick of your palm as donation to your generosity.

“Fuck, Henry…” You rarely referred to him by his first name. It felt unusual. You were much younger than him. Addressing someone closer to your dad’s age felt rude, like you were trying to assert your dominance despite your age difference. You were many things, but disobedient was not one of them. However, you couldn’t lie. His name felt polishing to your tongue, something that could improve the taste of dreadful meals if one were to whisper it before taking a spoonful.

His name felt like a miracle.

Your sexual appetite was nourished by the frames of Mr Cavill’s second video. He was completely unaware he was bulging, free-balling in his sweaty shorts while he pursued his vitality through jumping jacks, lunges, toe-touches—cardio galore that made his heavy cock bounce in rhythm. You could tell he was large, gifted with insane girth to the point where you could make out the shape of his cock just from him stretching. And the smell; sweat sticking on thick curly hairs on his chest, and a happy trail that seemed to promise a world of musk if you ever had an opportunity to endeavor upon your curiosities. You were practically salivating for him, saliva pooling where your tongue sank, while your cock leaked. You pumped yourself quicker and harder at the frustration that your desire to taste Mr. Cavill’s cock would remain a pipe dream.

All that left you was your imagination, and your own musk. Pulling up at your glans, you squeezed out thick loads of pre-cum before swiping it with your thumb and tasting it off with a suck. Salty, bitterly pleasant on your tongue, and satiated enough to not let your libido falter at the disappointment that it wasn’t Mr. Cavill’s pre-cum, but rather smolder.

“Oh, fuck my mouth… I need that cock, Mr. Cavill. Please—“ The frames of the third video showcased him flexing his arms and torso. His body bursted with pride, veins surging through every fiber of muscle like they were charging him and his very existence. It was veiny too, wasn’t it? His cock. Large and veiny, like how you’d like it. You would struggle fitting him inside of your mouth while his cock veins pulsed with great pleasure knowing that it was Mr. Cavill’s kink that you couldn’t take him. 

No one could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ Your eyes rolled back. The slurping sounds from the porn increased by tenfold as you pumped the volume by a few decibels. Lewd, slick sounds you wished you could perform on Mr. Cavill himself violated your ear drums. Pleasure him. Thank him on your knees for being so kind to your father. For building your PC without compensation. For providing you temporarily relief while you were away on campus, and could only jerk off under the blanket. You were grateful for him. For Mr. Cavill. For his thick arms. For his veiny forearms. For his dashing good-looks. For his muscles. For his strong cock. You’d give yourself to him if you could. Worship every inch of his step, every inch of his body, and that still wouldn’t be enough to show your appreciation towards him. 

Your fist tightened. Your other hand had grown limp by now, dropping your phone to the floor by mistake, but you were too fixated on the pleasure your cock was receiving to retrieve it back. You could watch it from where you were laying, just like this, slickly twisting and pumping your cock to the sound of the porn, to the sound of Mr. Cavill grunting simultaneously as if his thick cock was being feasted on like a hungry beast. “Mr. Cavill, please—I’m going to—“

One earbud slipped from the sweat building on your body, but you were close. So fucking close to coming. And when you do, you’d come on your phone.

All over Mr Cavill’s pecs. His abs. His crotch. His face. Anywhere, as long as it was your friendly neighbor, because—

“Enjoying yourself, (M/N)?”

A voice from behind you alerted your body to jolt and whip around upon instinct to defend yourself. Naked or not, you weren’t going to die, not in the hands of a burglar.

Though, as soon as you did, you regretted it. You felt like stone. Cold, hard stone as all signs of life seemingly felt like it had been sucked dry out of your body, with your erection taking up most of the produce surprisingly as you confronted the intruder.

The six-feet, muscular, handsome, and familiar man of an intruder. 

“M-Mr. Cavill?! What—When did you—“ You were flustered. Radiant heat blooming like the season of Spring across several patches of your naked body. It also didn’t help that your porn could be heard from earbuds once you took the remaining one out, albeit a bit muffled. And your phone, it was facing the ceiling, looping the video of Mr. Cavill training over and over again. Right before him.

Your body was shaking, physically evident despite your efforts to conceal the tremors as the man stared you down, unfazed by the drama of it all. “Fuck—“ You didn’t know what to turn off first. The porn? The video of him working out? Or maybe dressing yourself should be a priority because—Mr. Cavill was still staring, blues lingering on your naked body, seemingly outlining every drop of sweat that followed the contours of your figure. There was movement that naturally caught your attention. 

It was his hand, large and muscular over the center of his shorts. Rubbing, squeezing, fondling at an evidently large mass that made you dry-swallow. You mustered up the courage to finally pause the porn, then clicked your phone off. “H-how long have you been watching?”

“Since the beginning.” He chuckled, stating matter-of-factly. “Your dad told me to come look at your car. Your garage was open. Thought you did that for me, but I guess you really just forgot about closing it considering…” He nodded towards your cock, licking his lips when it acknowledged him with a throb. “Was coming to get you, and I found you like this.”

“And you just watched?!” You sputtered out in distress, hastily dressing yourself back into your clothes, stumbling over your feet in the process. Sweat always made it more difficult to put on clothes.

“Well, I did call you for while I was coming in. You didn’t hear me over your video, and…me, I suppose.” It was smug. Amusing to him that you were in this state of embarrassment after being caught red-handed. You groaned, burying your head into your knees after sitting back down on the couch. The heat was unbearable, but to face Mr. Cavill after being caught jerking off to his videos, you were overcome with horror at the ghastly spectacle of the situation.

“Don’t tell my dad about this,” Your fingers scraped through your scalp out of frustration, but also to keep your head pressed to your knees as they interlaced around you. You refused to even spare one more glance at the man when you felt him practically hovering over you, a gentle smile riding along the coattails of his composure. “…please.”

“I won’t,” Mr. Cavill’s voice sounded clearer, closer than before. Right above you, but still, you maintained your position despite the pleasant scent of his cologne almost breaking away your focus. “Just as long as you suck me off.”

Those final words hit you like a truck. 

You were astounded, confused by the turn of the situation. It felt like a taunt, and it was treated as such because it worked. You whipped your head up upon Mr. Cavill’s demand, almost insulted because it was how guys on campus used to taunt you.

What you expected to grace your eyes with was his face; charming as ever with a mustache that was reliable in stirring immense feelings inside of you.

Instead, you were met with a face full of flesh, Mr Cavill’s heavy and large cock. It sported a strong curve, throbbing veins to prove its accelerating lust, with thick balls swinging low to entice you into a hypnotic state. If someone was to grade you upon your predictions, you’d score a perfect mark, because god damn, he was huge. Hairier than you’d expected, though just as arousing, if not more, because this was unexpected for Mr. Cavill as well. He would’ve cleaned himself a bit if he had a plan to meet you under these circumstances.

“I—You’re serious?” With the string of thick pre-cum dripping from the very slit of his head, it seemed like your question was answered. You could smell him. The musk of his pre-cum. It tingled your nostrils, enchanting you akin to what fresh pastries would’ve done for you on normal, non-libido provoking circumstances.

“Does it look like I’m kidding? Come on, I’m waiting. You didn’t even say ‘thank you’ to me in person when I built you that PC for Christmas. It’s the least you could do, right?” Without warning, he took ahold of his cock and tapped the center of your lips with it. Your orbs shook as you looked up at him, hesitant through the tremor of your lips as Mr. Cavill stared back, determined for you to accept his plea offer with some kind of answer—with your mouth preferably. “Been teasing me for so long… Think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me whenever I came over? How you kept massaging your cock under the table during dinner? Always in those shorts too… God, you were begging to be fucked with your thighs showing like that.”

“No—I-You’re my dad’s friend, I can’t—“ Your hand said otherwise with your fingers taking initiative on their own, wrapping over his large cock, right above Mr. Cavill’s fist. It was a two-hander, a fucking two-hander, yet your fingers struggled to close around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so…”

“Your dad doesn’t have to know, right? I won’t tell. You won’t either. We don’t want to hurt him, right?” One of his hands found its way to the back of your head while he took a step closer, bringing his cock closer to your face. Before you could pull away, there was true grit to the palm of Mr Cavill’s hand as he applied pressure to the back of your head, pressing your cheek flush to the underside of his cock. “Look at you, you don’t have the heart to say no, do you? You’re obsessed with my cock, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Cavill…” You were under his control. Locks of your hair bundled under a grip while he ground his cock against your supple skin, making you smell him; his musky cock, the sweat buried in the deep hairs of his pubic area. It was a glorious scene that returned your cock back to its original state of arousal by tenfold. 

“You’re going to be a good boy and suck my cock off, right?” Almost in your mouth. You parted your lips open to trap his cock into your mouth with the way he maneuvered your head like a rag doll, a brute strength your nape now, pulling and pushing your head as his cock rubbed against your face, but Mr. Cavill pulled at the last minute, right when you were one lick away from tasting meaty flesh. “Close your mouth. You will open your mouth when I tell you so.”

“I—I—Yes, please...” You were pathetic. He held you still, head tilted upwards to face the ceiling and his towering body while his cock and balls laid over your face like a table runner, a perfect heater to warm his meat. A t-shirt remained on his body, and that was a true testament to his appeal, being able to get you off like this half-naked. You reached down, back to fondling at your sore cock, at the blue balls you’d given yourself earlier, sniffing, inhaling the heavy delightful scent of his sweaty cock. Guess his house was having air-conditioning difficulties too.

“I can use your mouth however I want?” He dragged his cock over your face, the head leaking out pre-cum in midst of its journey to introducing itself to every one of your facial features, saving your lips for last. 

“Yes,” You gulped at his rousing speech, breathing in the drying musky pre-cum on the perimeter of your skin. “Please fuck my mouth, please—“

“If you’re good, then this can be a regular occurrence, yeah?” You slipped your shorts and briefs off again, jerking yourself off to simply the teasing taunt of his cock, tapping at your skin, brushing over your eyelids, pushing up against your nose. You felt humiliated. You’d been marked by Mr. Cavill, pathetically as it only took his huge cock to make you submit to him. “You’d like that? Sucking your dad’s best friend off?”

“F-fuck, yes…” His cock was a wand to your body. Every time Mr. Cavill was seemingly about to push into your mouth, you willingly opened it to no avail, even if it was obvious that he’d pull away. You could only get off on his scent for so long. He’d draw your tongue out when he squeezed pre-cum out the tip of his cock, right above your pink flesh. It would sink, drip, slowly like syrup, in thick strings, until it wasn’t anymore with the sudden obstruction of Mr. Cavill’s finger swooping in to nick the sticky web, and letting it waste away on the carpet. “Please, Mr. Cavill… I-I’ll be good…”

It was amusing to him, watching you desperately try to taste and watch him in any way you can, to the point of going cross-eyed as he would center his cock in your vision. He waved his cock like a flag as if he had conquered you. Humiliated you with several heavy slaps to your face, thick smacks that you took in whimpering grace because Mr. Cavill had stolen the resources to your insanity.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Mr. Cavill didn’t waste a single second for you to prepare yourself. The pressure on your nape steeled, bruising to make you open your mouth and whimper, and maybe that was the point, because he seized the opportunity to charge his cock inside of your mouth without warning, making you gag on your own desperation. It was a forewarning. A brief prologue on how you should take his cock as he quickly pulled himself out to properly prepare yourself. In the meantime, he slapped your cheek multiple times with the spit you had already layered him with, cooing at how incredible hard and big he was against your dazed face.

“Fuck, your mouth is so warm. That’s it, you can take it. Good boy.” Saliva spilled out of your mouth like a popped water balloon when he pushed himself inside of your mouth again. You couldn’t control it. You couldn’t control what Mr. Cavill had stripped away from you with the strength he had on your neck. Not to mention, the mass of flesh gagging you into oblivion, leaving you completely incapable of stopping him, as if you wanted him to. “Come on, use your hands too. Don’t be lazy.”

“Mm-mmf…” A compliance that was muffled by a slur of slick sounds, but Mr. Cavill knew what you meant. Amusement played on the corner of his lips as you struggled to fit a hand around the base of his sticky cock, sloppily stroking what was left neglected by your mouth, or rather your inability to take in. You suckled on the head of his cock, plump and heavy on your tongue as it throbbed with every lick you provided him. Stroking its slit with the tip of your tongue, you then dug and slobbered over the salty taste of his pre-cum. “So big… Just like I’d imagined.”

You pulled away to marvel at the size of his cock, taking your time to lube his cock with your spit from tip to shaft before your fist flushed to his pelvis to slap his meaty cock on the pouch of your tongue, lewdly flinging your spit in the air. It was your favorite move, often reliable in coercing a reaction out of the men you’d sucked off previously. The roll of his eyes, the flex of his muscles, the grunt from his gut; you slobbered all over his cock, worshipping every inch with your mouth, polishing the cock knob clean with your tongue and stroking what you couldn’t with two deft hands. Mr. Cavill was no different, he was a man with needs like you, with needs like the rest of the men you’d given head to, and you exploited the hell out of it. You loved making them feel in power, making them feel like you were worth time out of their day, despite their original pleas to use your mouth.

He briefly pulled back to rest a kiss on your lips, one that you’d treasure for the rest of your life. Not only was it because it was your first kiss was him, but because of how delicate he was with you. Warm and inviting like he usually was, his large hands cupped at the end of your jaw, holding you as if you were made of porcelain. “Making me so proud right now, fuck. Take in more of my cock, would you? I like it when you gag.”

“Mm-hmm…” They always do. You mumbled against his lips, no longer needing his guidance to finish what you’d started. Your eyes were glued to Mr. Cavill, aroused by the look he was giving you. A famished stare that demanded to be satiated, by means of sheer persistence as you knew it was going to be difficult to down him with your throat.

Mr. Cavill drove a hand into your hair, cuffing the strands to keep you still, to keep you from pulling away, to dominate you. He watched you without an ounce of kindness, muscles flexing, cock and balls hanging obscenely as you found a better position on your knees with a throw pillow guarding you from bruising. “Want you to throat-fuck me, Mr. Cavill.”

“Fuck, who knew you had such a mouth on you…” He sturdied his stance, spreading his strong legs while manhandling your head between them. You licked a stripe over his balls, then the underside of his cock until your tongue reached the scorching skin of his precum-slicked tip. Approaching the end of the journey, your mouth opened wide to welcome Mr. Cavill back into your mouth, and like tugging on a loose knot, you drew out moans from within his gut, his body loosening in turn of your hot mouth. “Fuck, just like that…”

With a thundering heart, and a building pleasure so morbidly big, you sunk and lowered your head lower, taking in Mr. Cavill’s horse-cock like a fleshlight. Crimson rose to your cheeks, to your neck, as you strained to maintain him inside of your mouth. He was too big. You’ve utilized all the tactics you’ve learned on campus, on a few buddies, on your roommates. Breathe through your nose, relax your tongue and jaw, let your saliva drip out. Yet you’d barely taken a few inches more than you had done prior before a couple of gags alerted you to take a breather. Your head pulled back, but it was met with violent opposition as Mr. Cavill brought your head back down to further shove himself down your throat.

“Mmm—gggrgh!” Your body jolted in defense, stiffening your body into an upright position when you couldn’t refrain from gagging on his cock. Your hands braced on his strong thighs for balance, squeezing at the muscly flesh of skin to distract yourself from the uncomfortable stretch your mouth was receiving.

“Fuck, yeah. Fuck, fuck, just like that. You’re taking it like a good boy.” You were making him proud, so fucking proud. You coughed, gagging, almost choked on your own spit, but the stuffing of Mr. Cavill’s large cock simultaneously emptied your mouth of saliva as it all came flooding down your mouth in lewd webs. “Shit, look at that. I’m making your mouth water, aren’t I? Fuck, what a waste.”

He yanked your head back, pulling him out of your throat, and you had never felt such relief. Breathing, exhaling and inhaling deep to compensate for the prediction that Mr. Cavill wasn’t going to let you spare a second of abandoning his cock like that. Your eyes watered, reddened from straining your muscles to make him fit inside of your mouth. You knew there was a shift in the room when you looked up at him like that, glossy in the eyes, tremors involuntarily making your knees unsteady, coughing as you held onto his thighs. He towered over you, you were beneath him, beneath the ravenous gaze he simultaneously terrified and seduced you with. You couldn’t complain now. You did your job. You made him feel powerful like you’d wanted. Dominating, as his cock leaked in your spit, and spit your saliva back onto your face.

“You were fucking hungry for my cock, weren’t you? Look at you. You’re a bloody mess…” With one swipe, he gathered the layers of spit you had generously supplemented his cock with, and smeared it across your face. You took his humiliation with good grace, moaning at your loss of pride with every smear. It deducted the more he messily layered your face with your own spit, but as demeaning as it was, there was immense merit to the satisfaction on Mr. Cavill’s face. “Open up.”

“M-mm, ah—“ Your mouth opened with a vulgar sound. If Mr. Cavill had something to compare it to, it would be like sticking a spoon into a cup of jello, and then scooping its content out. Sweet and glorious to his ears, salty to your mouth as he bought your head forward again, and plunged his cock back down your throat, deeper, and further within the confines of your throat. You squeezed around him, eyes clenched tight while he brought your face flushed to his pelvis, the hairy bush of his public area gentle abrasive against your nose. He smelled as delectable as he tasted. A hint of spice, sweat, salt, you could lick at it if it was made into a popsicle, lap it up if it was in a bowl and you were on all fours, bowing to his feet.

Your cheeks bulged as your mouth churned internally to produce more slime to seemingly ease the slide of Mr. Cavill’s cock thrusting inside of you now. He was careless, half-bent over your head to lock you into a tight embrace while his spit-polished cock rubbed at either side of your cheeks, rut against the roof of your mouth, then thrust himself into the depth of your warm throat. You couldn’t have escaped if you had wanted to. He was too strong. Two hands unrelenting around your head while he packed his large cock deep into your mouth, pelting into your gags and whimpers with fast, sharp thrusts, the sound of his wet dick choking you mutually turning you and Mr. Cavill on. You want to quit, yet he was choking you too good. Water streamed down your cheeks. Whether it was your own spit, sweat, or tears, you couldn’t comprehend it because Mr. Cavill was uncompromising, refusing to yield for your comfort.

You were fucking grateful. That was what had been missing from your college experience. A man. Someone taking charge for once. Someone utilizing you like the whore you made yourself out to be. Mr. Cavill saw right through you, through your taunts from several breaks ago, and he was fucking furious for making him wait.

“Shit, I’m close,” Fucking your mouth furiously. You could get off like this. Fuck, no. You were getting off to this. Fucking your cock with your fist, doing your best to match the pace of Mr. Cavill’s hips. You wanted to look up, to watch his face morph from admiration to animalistic desire as he utilized your throat at his own disposal.

You blinked away your tears, even if they had stung, and gawked at how captivating Mr. Cavill was for being selfish, thrusting into your mouth with one hand keeping your face free of your hair from obstructing his view. A frown permanently framed his mustache, and his dark brows furrowed at the approaching climax. He wasn’t looking at you. Rather, he was scrutinizing your wet mouth as it was jam-packed with his cock. How could a mouth look so pretty while doing something absolutely obscene? How could a throat feel so tight, so addictive, even after piping his cock down its drain several times? How could you let him treat you like this, a complete stranger, completely violate and humiliate you on your knees, like a broken doll whose purpose was to fulfill a man’s deepest desires? Maybe he needed to have a talk with your father. Talk about how broken you were, and that you needed fixing. Spend a nights with him at his house, and he would help you rewire your brain. He’d fix you. Fix you with his cock. With his lips. With his hands. With his body. Your eyes rolled back at the thought, fisting your cock faster, twisting to his heavy grunts as he was nearing closer and closer to the edge of his insanity.

“Mfghm!” Your throat felt raw, the subtlest whimper scratching at your throat like claws on chalkboard. But you persisted, pumping your shaft vigorously, your ears lapping up Mr. Cavill’s constant appraisal for your performance. Good boy. That’s it. You’re taking my cock like how I want it. You want your reward? Fuck, sloppier. Spit on it. Spit on my dick. I like it sloppy. 

Sweat pebbled every inch of your skin. You couldn’t take it. It was coming. Your stomach sank and steeled upon the sudden rise of fulfillment, and you quickly released your grip after a final stroke before coming into the air. Thick ropes catapulted upwards, your cock throbbing with every pulse, and your balls emptying itself more and more with a bounce, a twitch, and a jolt. “F-fuck, ugh…”

“Fuck, yeah. Look at all of that cum. Fuck. You came that much just from my cock, look at that…“ Your body spasmed as the carpet soaked up your semen. His voice gruff yet gentle at the same time, making your cock twitch once more before softening. 

“Come on, not done yet. Suck me off.” He spat out, tugging your head forward after a quick breather.

Something in you clicked, and you began sucking his cock off like it was your job. Twisting, stroking at the slick shaft while nipping at the head while you caught up to your breath. Suddenly saltier on your tongue as some of your cum had landed on your hand before it was smeared across Mr. Cavill’s dick. You’ve never tasted yourself before, but it was a found contentment you didn’t expect to turn you on.

Then, you took one last breath, cleared your throat, and charged forward. Long, thick inches slid into your throat once more, and you’d hold yourself there upon his final warning, mouth agape, lips pressed into the fur of his pubic hair. Your tongue flattened at the underside of his veiny cock, and your nails dug into the back of his thighs as you felt a thick warmth rush down and coat the inside of your throat. His cock throbbed, and Mr. Cavill’s grunts emptied from his gut with every spill. You could feel every heavy pulse as Mr. Cavill came down your throat in heavy, creamy spurts. You didn’t want to swallow. Not yet. You wanted to savor him. Savor the taste of his cum. You’d pined for it for so long, for all you could know, this could be your last opportunity to properly taste him. Slowly, but surely, his loads rose and pooled in the back of your throat upon barricading it with a tighten of your trachea. The rest of his spurts emptied on your tongue as he pulled himself out, and milked himself to completion. 

“Don’t swallow yet.”

You nodded, panting, awaiting for his nuts to be emptied as he flung his cock a few times, hurling drips of cum and your spit over your tongue and face. When he was seemingly emptied out, his gaze fixated on his cum pooled in the back of your throat; semi-translucent and filthily swimming with your own spit, and then Mr. Cavill’s own saliva, as he then spat into your crowded mouth. 

“Now swallow.”

You whimpered at the vulgarity of this affair, yet you were highly-aroused by this shame you were feeling. Mr. Cavill’s gaze stilled, anticipating with calm amusement while petting at your cheek. With one clean gulp, you downed your guilt, scrunching your nose when the salty taste of his spunk throttled your tastebuds, and sighed in satisfaction.

“Does your throat hurt?” He was on his haunches, carefully examining your throat as if he had his hand around you from the outside. It was a surprising return to his normal self, at least, the man that you knew as your dad’s best friend. Caring and patient, as he tended to your neck with apologetic kisses, and a gentle massage around your nape, where he must’ve gripped too hard upon your jolted reaction.

“A little… Didn’t take you were one to be rough like that.” Your knees gave out, letting yourself fall back onto your butt knowing that the couch would catch your position.

“Not usually, no… You just… happen to rile me up for some reason.” He was smiling, joining you on the floor, and nuzzling his furry mustache into the crook of your neck as if he wasn’t choking you with his cock a few minutes ago. It was unusual, yet charming. “Seriously, don’t tell your dad, okay?” He whispered into your ear before turning your cheek to look deep in his eyes.

A meaningful stare, a beat of silence, before you spoke, “Only if you promise me something.”

“What’s that?” Mr. Cavill pressed a kiss to your swollen lips, another apology for stretching your mouth without much warning.

“You really meant it that this would be a regular thing if I did a good job?” Mr. Cavill scoffed at first. It was almost embarrassing. Were you being naive? Was this too good to be true? Your cheeks flushed red, and you solemnly casted your gaze downwards, defeated because that was that it felt like. The sound of rejection always came with a scoff, everyone knew that. 

“Well, it was going to be a regular thing even if you had accidentally bit my dick off.” He suddenly laughed at how susceptible you were by the smallest actions, and at this moment, you were surprised that maybe this crush wasn’t so one-sided after all. He teased at your frown, kissing the corner of your mouth until it was a smile, and then prodding at your sides when you resisted. “Come on, you couldn’t possibly think this was a one-time thing.” 

“Tempting…” You snuck a head in between his thighs, reaching for a certain tool that had brought in so much pleasure and pain to your body. “I don’t know… we don’t talk much. I don’t know you that well.” 

“Don’t.” Mr. Cavill teasingly warned, stopping you by taking ahold of your wrist. Though, one step too late, as you already cupped his flaccid cock, tormenting his balls with a few tugs and squeeze of your palm as an act of revenge for your throat. “Well… then let’s get to know each other. No problem doing that, right?”

“Mm-mm, guess not.” Pursing your lips, you nodded, feeling placated by his words.

He sighed into your mouth, kissing you again, licking at the inside of your mouth, tasting your tongue and then your cheek, to soothe his selfish stain on your body with the work of his mouth. 

“First, I want to hear you say ‘thank you’ for building that PC of yours before I promise you anything.”

“Jesus, we’re still on this?”

“Yes! Do you know how long that took me?”

“I didn’t ask you to build me one—“

“God, you’re an ungrateful brat.”

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

[cowboybeepboop]

Late Night

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut, gentle and romantic

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Your friendly neighbor Clark Kent comes to your door one evening, allowing for the two of you to finally grow your relationship.

Warnings: This is not proofread what so ever, gentle/sort of shy Clark, unprotected sex, oral fem receiving, p in v sex. 

a/n: Idk rn but I genuinely can't wait for David Corenswet to be Superman (Henry Cavill is so hot tho...). I’m already imagining how perfect he's gonna be as Clark Kent. As always, send me any requests you have and I hope you enjoy!

For months now, you had been quietly pining for the man who lived across the hall from me in our unassuming apartment building. His name was Clark Kent, and there was something about him that was utterly endearing. It wasn't just his chiseled jawline or the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, but the kindness he exuded, the way he always had a helping hand ready for anyone in need. 

You had become something like friends, sharing the occasional awkward small talk as we passed by with our shopping bags or recyclables. You had seen him in various stages of undress, coming back from his midnight runs, his superhero-like physique hidden under loose-fitting t-shirts and sweatpants. 

Something that had fueled your evening pleasure sessions, everytime your eyes fell closed you could remember the image of his hardened abs, his huge and muscular arms. 

On a warm summer evening, there was a knock at your door. It was Clark, the guy from across the hall. He stood there sheepishly, his hand running through his black hair. 

He wore a white shirt that was unbuttoned and messy. He held a bottle of wine in one hand. "Hey", he said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I was wondering if I could get a favor?"

“Sure what’s up?” you give him a small smile, your eyes fall on his exposed chest before quickly flicking back to his face. His heart rate increased as he realized that you could see through the thin fabric of his shirt the toned muscles of his chest covered in a light layer of hair.

He cleared his throat, composing himself, holding up the bottle of wine. "I, umm, I was wondering if I could borrow your corkscrew. I lost mine."

“Yeah, of course. Come on in.” you move to the side, allowing him to come in. Your mind clouding with desire as he towers over you, his cologne filling your senses. 

He steps into your apartment, the tight space meaning his body brushes against yours slightly as he passes. The contact between you both is brief, but it's enough to send a shiver down his spine as he enters.

Your cheeks flush slightly as you realize your own appearance, wearing just a button down top that is unbuttoned enough for him to see your cleavage and your underwear. You awkwardly lead him to the kitchen, arm subconsciously moving to cover your breasts as you turn around, handing him the corkscrew. 

"Uh, thanks." He says as he takes the corkscrew from you. Even with your arm draped over yourself, he can't help but notice the glimpse of exposed skin, his eyes lingering before he catches himself and averts his gaze, forcing himself to stay focused on the task at hand.

He starts to open up the bottle, the action allowing him to look away from your figure for a moment and compose himself, his hands shaking slightly as he tries to concentrate. 

Your hand reaches out, fingers brushing over his. “Oh yeah this thing is weird, you kinda have to do it a particular way.” you murmur, taking the bottle from him as you fumble with the screw. 

He bites his lip as your fingers brush over his, his stomach swirling at the touch of your hand. He watches as you take the bottle from him, his eyes fixated on your every movement as you try to open the bottle.

"Thanks," he mutters, his voice low and a bit shaky. His eyes wander down, his gaze drawn to the way your top fits, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. 

“Mhm,” you reply as you pull the cork out, a small splash of wine staining your collar. You bite down on your lip while setting the bottle down, fingers rubbing the fabric. His eyes widen slightly as he watches the droplet of wine slide down your collar, the stains on the fabric making it even more translucent. 

Clark swallows hard, his mind wandering to inappropriate and ungentlemanly thoughts. He clears his throat, trying to look away, but he can't help but notice the way your fingers are now rubbing at the fabric, the motion only drawing his attention further to your chest.

You glance over him, hand falling from your shirt as you give him a soft grin, noticing the way his gaze lingers. 

His gaze flicks up to meet yours, his cheeks flushed. He realizes he's been caught staring, his eyes having been fixated on the way your hand moves over the fabric of your shirt, the motion stirring something deep within him.

"I, umm..." he stutters, his words failing him as he feels his throat dry up. He swallows slowly, forcing himself to focus on something else. "Thanks, for helping me open the bottle," he manages to say.  He shifts on his feet, trying to discreetly adjust himself as he feels his jeans becoming a bit tighter.

“Of course, do you want to share the bottle? Or do you have someone waiting for you?” you move slightly closer to him. 

His heart quickens as you come closer, his mouth going dry as your proximity makes it all that much more difficult to concentrate. He glances down at the bottle sitting on the counter, his mind racing with desire and indecision.

"No," he says, his voice low and a bit huskier than usual. "There's no one waiting for me." He looks back up at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of nervousness and something more forbidden. "I'd like to share the bottle with you."

“Perfect.” You smile, stepping closer as you reach for the cabinet behind him, your chest pressing into his ever so slightly. You open the door, reaching for two glasses ​​his breath hitches as he feels your body press against him, the sensation sending a jolt of heat through him. 

Your chest rubs against his, and he can feel the weight and softness of you against his body. The proximity is driving him mad, his mind clouded by primal desires he's trying to keep in check.

He bites his lip, his knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the counter, trying to maintain his composure. His eyes flutter shut for a moment before he opens them again, his gaze fixed on your every move.

You step back, with the glasses in hand. “We could watch a movie?” you prompt as you pour some wine into the cups, silently enjoying the way he reacted to your touch. 

He nods, his mind still racing as he tries to calm his racing thoughts and the growing hardness in his pants. "Yeah, a movie sounds good," he mutters, his voice coming out a bit more hoarse than he'd liked.

As you pour the wine, his eyes follow your every move, the way your fingers grip the bottle, the way the liquid flows into the glasses. It's all too tantalizing for him. "What do you feel like watching?" He asks, trying to keep his voice level and casual.

“How about you choose?” you hand him a glass, taking yours in hand along with the bottle as you walk into the living room. Taking a seat down on the couch you sip on the wine, your eyes follow his every move, drinking in his muscular form. 

He tries to stay composed, forcing himself to look away and focus on the task at hand. Clark walks over to the DVD collection and scans the titles, his mind unfocused and his thoughts still lingering on you. After a moment of browsing, he picks a movie at random, inserting it into the player.

"All set." He says, returning to the couch and taking a seat beside you. You pull at the hem of your shirt, trying to prevent it from riding up too much while taking another sip of your drink. 

“Great.” you smile, sucking your lip between your teeth as you admire his side profile. He can't help but notice the way you fidget with your shirt, the action drawing his mind to places he shouldn't be going at the moment. 

He struggles to keep his eyes focused on the screen, his gaze keeping wandering over to you, admiring your features and the way the fabric clings to your body. Clark takes a long sip from his glass, the alcohol doing little to calm his racing thoughts and desires. He shifts in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust himself as his jeans grow even tighter.

“Is everything alright?” you notice his movements and set your cup on the coffee table, scooting slightly closer to him. His eyes widen slightly as you move closer, the proximity sending a fresh wave of desire through him. He swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry.

"Yeah," he responds, his voice a little hoarse. "Everything's fine, just...adjusting." He glances over at you, his gaze lingering on your figure, his eyes tracing over the curves where your shirt clings to you, the way your position inadvertently exposes more skin.

“Clark?” your knee brushes against his thigh as you scoot closer. He stiffens as your knee brushes against him, the casual touch sending a jolt through him. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he tries to maintain his composure.

When he hears his name, the way you say it, so soft and gentle, almost a whisper, it sends a shiver down his spine. He looks over at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with desire. "Yeah?" He manages to respond, his voice a bit shaky.

“Are you.. seeing anyone?” you chew on your cheek as you search his eyes. At your question, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crosses his face. He holds your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hint of insincerity.

"No," he says finally, his voice steady and sincere. "I'm not seeing anyone." He swallows, his nerves getting the better of him as he wonders where this conversation is going. He can't help but feel a flicker of hope and anxiety at the same time.

Your eyes light up as you press a hand to his thigh, “Then… well I hope i’m not misreading the situation,” you murmur, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. It's unexpected, but oh so welcome. 

His eyes widen for a brief moment, before closing as he melts into the kiss. Every cell in his body seems to come alive, the taste of your lips on his sending him into a dizzying spiral of emotions.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his touch gentle as he leans into the kiss, deepening it as he loses himself in the moment. His tongue brushes over your bottom lip as he presses his chest against yours, pushing your back into the plush fabric of your couch. 

Your bodies meld together, your back sinking into the cushion as he bears down on you. His tongue teases your lip, requesting entry which you give him without hesitation.

His heart races as he feels the soft give of your body against his chest, the heat and pressure of your bodies mingling together.

His hand runs over your side, his touch gentle but firm as it moves over the curves of your body, his hand sneaking under the fabric of your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his. You lean back, gasping for air as his fingers explore your body. 

He takes your gasp as an opportunity to trail his lips along your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he nips and kisses his way down your neck.

His hand moves under your shirt, slowly, his fingertips dancing across your bare skin, mapping out each contour and dip of your body. He groans softly against your throat as he feels your warm, supple flesh under his fingers. You feel so good against him, it's almost overwhelming.

“Clark..” you gasp his name as he unbuttons your shirt swiftly. He loves the way you say his name, the sound of it coming from your lips making his own name sound like a prayer.

He unfastens the buttons of your shirt, revealing more and more of your body to his hungry eyes. He peels back the fabric, his hands roaming over your now-exposed skin, his fingers tracing over your stomach and up to your chest.

He presses his mouth to your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, tasting your scent, committing it to memory. “Clark..” you moan his name again, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he kisses down your chest, hands landing on your breasts. 

His name slips from your lips again, the sound like a sweet melody in his ears. He can feel the pressure of your fingers on his shoulders, the touch driving his desire even higher.

His mouth travels down your chest, his kisses feather light and seductive as he moves over your breasts. His hands follow his mouth, palms cupping your breasts as he starts to massage the soft flesh.

He moans against your skin, his touch almost reverent. His body thrums with an aching need, the desire to be closer to you nearly overwhelming as he captures your lips in another hungry kiss. He cups your breasts in his hands, his fingers kneading the supple flesh as they press into your skin. His touch is soft but firm, his hands large enough to cover them completely

Clark pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss but keeping his eyes locked with yours. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving with anticipation. He can feel your heart racing beneath his palms as he gently caresses your breasts. "Are you sure about this?" He whispers, his voice thick with desire. "I don't want to rush you." His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

You smile up at him, placing a soft hand on his cheek. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reply, your voice barely above a murmur. The sincerity in your tone sends a thrill through him, confirming that this is what you both want.

He nods, his expression serious as he leans back down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. He savors the taste of you, the feel of your body pressed against his. His hand slides up to the back of your neck, cradling it as he deepens the kiss, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

As the kiss lingers, he slowly starts to unbutton the rest of your shirt, taking his time to reveal each new inch of your skin. His eyes never leave yours, watching for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. You melt into him, your own hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as the fabric of your shirt falls away.

The moment your skin is fully exposed, the air in the room seems to crackle with tension. He leans down to press a line of soft, wet kisses along your collarbone, feeling your body shiver beneath his touch. He takes a moment to just look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Your cheeks flush with pleasure as he says the words, his eyes devouring your exposed flesh. He takes his time, kissing and caressing every inch of your body, his hands moving in a slow, tantalizing dance that leaves you trembling with need. Each touch is a promise of what's to come, each kiss a declaration of his desire for you.

The room is filled with the sound of your mingled breaths and the soft whispers of your names on each other's lips. The anticipation is almost unbearable, but you both know that the slow burn of this moment is only making the fire between you grow hotter.

Clark finally takes one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling gently as he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger. You arch your back, gasping at the sensation, your hands tightening in his hair. He teases and worships each peak, his tongue swirling and flicking, drawing out your moans of pleasure.

As you lay there, the warmth of his mouth on your skin, the softness of the couch beneath you, and the gentle pressure of his body above, you can't help but feel that this is exactly where you're meant to be. With each tender kiss and caress, he's claiming you, and you're willingly giving yourself to him.

The movie on the TV becomes background noise as the only thing that matters is the connection growing stronger between you both. His kisses trail down your stomach, his hands skimming over your hips to the waistband of your underwear.

He kisses the skin just above the waistband, the heat of his breath making you squirm. "I want to make this perfect for you," he murmurs, his eyes looking up at you for approval. You nod, unable to form words as your breath catches in your throat.

He takes his time, pulling down your underwear in one smooth motion, exposing your most intimate parts to his gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he looks at you, but he keeps his touches feather-light, his mouth hovering just above your skin without making contact.

Clark takes a deep breath, savoring the moment as he gazes down at your exposed body. He gently kisses the soft skin of your inner thighs, moving closer to the apex of your legs. His eyes are filled with a fiery hunger that makes your heart race even faster. He presses a soft kiss to your mound, feeling you tense up at the contact. 

Then, with a gentle caress, he parts your legs wider, his gaze never leaving yours. You can see the desire in his eyes, and it only fuels the fire burning within you. With a soft sigh, he lowers his mouth to you, his tongue tracing the seam of your folds with the lightest touch. You moan, your body trembling as he starts to explore you, taking his time to learn every curve and sensitive spot. 

Each touch is a declaration of his intention to worship you, to take things slow and savor every second of this shared intimacy. His fingers join his mouth, gently teasing and exploring, bringing you closer to the edge with every stroke. The room is filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and soft whimpers, the only soundtrack to this passionate symphony of desire.

Clark continues his gentle exploration, his tongue circling your clit with a patience that borders on agonizing. He's not in a hurry; he wants to savor every moment of this, to make sure you feel loved and desired. His fingers slide into your wetness, curling gently as he begins to stroke you internally, matching the rhythm of his tongue. 

You can't help but whimper, your eyes squeezed shut as the sensations build within you. He's so attentive, so in tune with your body's responses that you feel like you're floating on a cloud of pure pleasure. Each kiss, each caress is a testament to the connection growing between you, and you know that this is just the beginning of a night that will change everything.

Clark's eyes never leave yours as he shifts his position, aligning his body with yours. His hand moves to guide himself, and with a gentle nod from you, he begins to press into you. His movements are slow and deliberate, his expression one of intense concentration as he tries to read your every reaction. You can feel the tip of him pushing against your entrance, the anticipation of what's to come making you squirm.

As he enters you, he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a soothing balm to the building passion. He's so big, so thick, but he's so gentle that it's almost a surprise when he's fully sheathed inside you. You gasp, your eyes flying open, and he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation of being filled by him.

He waits, his eyes searching yours for any sign of pain or discomfort. When he sees none, he starts to move, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm that makes your toes curl. Each thrust is met with a soft moan from your lips, his name slipping from your mouth like a prayer as he fills you completely.

The feeling of him inside you is unlike anything you've ever experienced. It's as if your bodies are made for this, as if every inch of him is meant to be connected to every inch of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands sliding down to grip his firm ass as he moves within you.

The room seems to spin around you, the only constant is the feeling of him, the sound of your hearts beating in sync. He kisses you again, his movements becoming more urgent as the passion takes over. You can feel him thickening, growing even more inside you, and you know that he's getting closer to the edge.

You whisper for him to go faster, to give you more, and he responds eagerly, his strokes deepening and quickening. Your body responds in kind, your hips rising to meet his, the friction between you building until it's almost unbearable. You're both so close, the tension coiled tight in your stomachs, ready to snap.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, it does. You cry out, your body arching off the couch as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows shortly after, his own release shaking his body as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

For a moment, you just lay there, your bodies entwined, your hearts racing. Then, with a soft sigh, he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any signs of regret. But all he sees is pure satisfaction, a mirror to what's reflected in his own gaze. He leans down to kiss you gently, a soft promise of more to come.

[supercap2319]

"I can't believe Y/N is cheating on me with another man." Clark pouted.

Lois gives him a pointed look. "Smallville, Y/N is literally playing with Krypto, not cheating on you."

"Yeah, but why does he have to give Krypto all of his attention? What about me? Man's best friend my ass." They watched as Krypto tackled Y/N to the ground and assaulted his face with dog licks and kisses. Y/N was giggling and trying desperately to push him off.

"I can't believe you're jealous of your dog. What's next you're going to–" Lois began.

"Ahhh!! Clark?! Help me!"

They watched as Krypto flew off, dragging Y/N by his pant legs and into the sky.

"Oh my God, Y/N!" Clark flew after his boyfriend and his dog.

[witchywithwhiskey]

the princess and the villain

pairing: choose your own soft!dark male character x female reader

summary: you're the daughter of a powerful mob boss, and someone's been hired to take you away. but after one look at your face, the man starts getting ideas about keeping you for himself.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), dark themes, abduction, drugging, dirty thoughts and fantasies (including nonconsensual somnophilia), sadism, dacryphilia, a dangerously delusional man

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i wrote this prologue-y thing back in early spring for a specific character, but while i liked this part, i didn't like anything about how the story progressed after it and i ended up abandoning the fic. but i still really liked this part and i thought it'd be a fun entry in @bucks-and-noble's Choose Your Babe challenge!! so, after you read, please tell me who you think is the villain to our princess 😈

For you, it was a night like any other. 

You’d gone through your normal evening routine, padding softly around your penthouse apartment before slipping between the satin sheets of your queen-sized bed. 

You’d drifted off into a peaceful slumber, feeling safe in the knowledge that your security system was set, there was an armed doorman in the lobby of your building, and your father’s men were only a phone call away.

For him, it was the night everything changed.

Of course, everything would change for you, too. You just didn’t know it yet.

You were blissfully unaware of everything that had been put in motion that led to the events of that night. You slept soundly as a man you’d never met before—one wearing a dark suit, dark gloves and a dark look in his eye—stalked silently into your bedroom. He adjusted the black leather gloves he wore, a silver gun gripped in one steady hand as he came to stand over you. 

You looked like a princess.

It was the first thing that struck the man, how much you looked like a sleeping princess from the fairytales he’d read as a boy. So peaceful and pretty and perfect. 

But the man wasn’t a knight or a prince. Sure, he’d had noble aspirations when he’d been young, wanting to slay dragons and rescue princesses like you. But that’s not how his life turned out.

Instead, he’d become the villain. He was the assassin who had killed your father’s men assigned to protect you, then slit the throat of the doorman in your lobby before disarming your security system and letting himself into your defenseless apartment. 

He was the mercenary hired by your mafia boss father’s rival to abduct you and hold you hostage while the old men squabbled over power and money.

As the man stared down at your face, his eyes tracing the curve of your cheek and the dip of your mouth, the thought occurred to him that he would pay anything to get you back if you’d been taken from him. He’d burn the whole world down to find you if someone managed to take you from him. Not that he’d ever let you out of his sight if you were his…

But then he reminded himself that you weren’t his, you were a job, and his thoughts soured. It was more difficult than he would’ve liked to admit to get back to work, his movements lacking their normal meticulousness as he shoved his gun into its holster beneath his arm. 

He pulled a cloth and a small bottle of chloroform from a pocket inside his suit jacket. He didn’t normally need to watch what he was doing, but he did then, making extra certain he didn’t pour too much of the sedative onto the cloth before stowing the bottle away again.

Normally, the man was a professional. He could press the cloth so gently over someone’s mouth and nose while they slept that they’d never even know they were being drugged. They’d just slip peacefully from sleeping into unconsciousness, without any of the fear or struggle that came with waking up to realize they were being drugged by a stranger.

But the man’s mask of calm had slipped the moment he’d laid eyes on your beauty, and he could feel the darkness in the very depths of his soul stirring within him. It was seething and starving, testing the limits of his self-control, making him feel on edge. He wanted. He wanted you.

The man could picture his hand roughly covering your mouth and nose with the chloroform cloth, your eyes flying open and staring up at him. He could imagine the way they’d widen with horror, then fill with tears that slipped down your temples and into your hair. He could almost hear your soft cry of distress and your whimper of terror as you comprehended your fate.

As he fantasized about your fear, the man’s cock hardened in his pants, thickening at the thought of your pretty eyes staring up at him like the villain he was. A menacing grin slowly curled the corners of his mouth and the dark look in his eye turned positively wicked.

Then he was moving, forgoing his normal precision and letting the darkness within him take hold as he slammed the chloroform cloth over your pretty mouth and pert nose, the tips of his leather-clad fingers digging into your soft cheeks hard enough to make you scream in surprise.

When your eyes flew open, the man couldn’t help but marvel at their beauty, leaning forward to loom over your body to get a better look. The moonlight shone across your face, limning your features in ethereal silver light, making you look like an angel. You were even more beautiful when you were looking at him like he was the most important thing in the world. 

The mercenary had thought your immediate reaction would be fear, but he was wrong. He hadn’t anticipated the way your brows would furrow in confusion, sweet little lines forming between them as you stared up at him, more bewildered than terrified by his presence.

But then—then it happened. Confusion gave way to horror, your chest heaving as you breathed in panicked gasps, only succeeding in inhaling more of the drug and dooming yourself. You whimpered so sweetly it sounded like music to the man’s ears, and your eyes filled with tears. The man watched, his mouth curving into a greedy, predatory smile. 

He held your terrified gaze, using one hand to brace the back of your head so you couldn’t escape the cloth that covered your mouth and nose and you continued to breathe in the sedative. His cock ached in his pants, the full length of him pressing against the tight confines as he throbbed with arousal, his balls filling with come that he furiously wanted to spill across your face. Or bury deep in one of your warm holes… 

His attention was forced back to the present when your body jerked with dawning realization of what was happening to you. You reached for the dangerous stranger looming over you, your fingertips falling just shy of brushing against his bulge. The man’s cock twitched, as if reaching for you in return, and he had to stop himself from thrusting to meet your touch. 

Thankfully for him, the chloroform was doing its job, and your hands dropped futilely as your eyes began to close. Your arms fell listlessly to the bed and the man watched you succumb to the sedative he’d used to drug you.

When he was certain you were unconscious, he pulled the cloth away and stowed it back in his jacket pocket, ensuring he didn’t leave any trace of his presence in your apartment. That was the job, he tried to remind himself, but the darkness within him was louder, and his movements were all too eager as he pulled the blankets of your bed back, baring your body to his hungry gaze.

He felt his cock throb in excitement as he stared down at you, your body clad in nothing but a skimpy little nightgown, the fabric so thin he could see the shape of your nipples poking through. His eyes roved greedily over your curves, lingering for a long moment on the way the bottom hem of your nightdress was rucked up around your hips, almost giving him a glimpse of your precious cunt nestled between your thighs.

The man wanted desperately to know if you’d gone to bed without panties, but he knew he had to ignore the creeping darkness that had slithered into his mind. Not because it would be a gross invasion of privacy to take a peek at your panties while you were unconscious, but because he knew that if he pushed your nightdress up any further, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from sinking his cock into your tight cunt while you were still out cold.

He’d never fucked a princess, and fucking you—even if it was while you were unconscious—might be the closest he ever got. You were a sleeping beauty and he was no prince charming, no honorable knight. He was the villain, and he wanted to ravage you, whether you were awake or not. 

In that moment, he couldn’t decide which would be better. Fucking you while you were soft and pliant with sleep, your body taking his cock into your tight warm hole while you mumbled incoherently against his shoulder. Or fucking you when you were awake, so he could see your pretty eyes fill with tears again, hear the desperate sounds you made while he filled you with his cock…

The leather of the man’s gloves creaked in the silence of your bedroom as he curled his hands into fists and beat back the darkness that had slipped into his head. He was a professional. He’d been hired to do a job, and you were that job. 

You weren’t his princess to steal away from the king’s tower. He needed to remember that.

The mercenary adjusted his cock in his pants, working hard to reclaim the control that had fled the moment he’d laid eyes on you. He forced his limbs to move precisely as he gathered you up into his arms, ignoring his body’s responses when he smelled the sweet scent of you settle around him, and when he felt your soft breath exhale against his neck. 

A car was waiting in the parking garage beneath the building, ready for the man to take you far away from your home and the city where your father held enough power to be considered a king. He encountered no obstacles as he carried you down to the garage and buckled you into the passenger seat of the car.

As the man drove away, he couldn’t help but feel like the villain stealing the princess from the king’s tower, and it gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction. He may not have been a prince or a knight, but he had taken the princess. And he began to think that maybe he should keep you for himself. 

Perhaps the man could write his own kind of twisted fairytale, one where the villain got to keep the princess. 

Looking over at you, your features soft in sleep and no less beautiful than when he’d first laid eyes on you, the man made his decision. He’d have his happily ever after at any cost—which meant he’d have to convince you that he was your fairytale come to life, just as you were his.

so who's the babe!? tell me in the comments, reblogs or in my askbox!

[navybrat817]

Calgon, Take Me Away

Pairing: Reader's Choice

Word Count: 900

Warnings: None really. Reader is just done with some parts of adulting. 😂

A/N: We know @biteofcherry , @bucks-and-noble , and others love to do Choose Your Babe and similar variations. With the next couple of weeks being busy, busy, busy, I just want someone to be like Calgon and take me away. 😌

It was an average day as you had lunch with a friend. Nothing out of the ordinary. Both of you took turns trading topics of discussion. Work naturally came up, which made you think of money and relationships. How broke you were. Lonely. Exhausted. You couldn't hold it in.

“You know what? I’m sick of my job. I wish I could just quit,” you said, narrowing your eyes when your friend giggled. “I’m serious. I’m tired of it. I work my ass off, but I'm not going anywhere. I don't feel accomplished when I’m done at the end of the day and I dread hearing my alarm because it’s just another day of having to push through it. But I can't quit because I have to pay my bills. And I'm tired of being tired.”

Even saying the words wore you out.

She asked once your rant was over, “What’s the solution then?”

“I wish I knew,” you answered. You couldn't exactly quit without a plan in place. “If someone could just... I don't know, take me away, it would solve my problem.”

“Take you away?” She raised an eyebrow when you nodded. “How would that solve your problem? Sure, someone takes you away for a bit, but you’d have to go right back to work after your vacation because you'd still have bills. That or you'd have to find another job if you're gone for too long.”

“No, because it wouldn't be a vacation. It would be something more permanent,” you said, a dreamy look taking over your expression. “He would decide my new job is just taking care of myself. And taking care of him, of course.”

She blinked. It sounded crazy to your own ears, but you meant it. “So, you'd be a housewife?”

“Sort of. I guess? Housewife, sugar baby, whatever he needs.” She stared as you paused to take a drink. “He'd let me have hobbies because he wants me to be happy, but I wouldn't have to stress about a job I hate and I'd actually sleep and feel rested when I wake up. I wouldn't have to worry about anything.”

“A guy like that is probably married or a serial dater.”

“This one wouldn't be. He’d be devoted to me,” you said before you corrected yourself. “We’d be devoted to each other.”

Your friend playfully rolled her eyes. “And you think some guy is just going to show up and decide, 'Yeah! I'll make her my little housewife or sugar baby or whatever and I’ll be faithful and worship her!' Really?”

Your head hung for a moment. “A girl can dream, okay?”

“Look. You don't actually want that. You just hate your job right now. Maybe you'll find something else and it'll get better.”

“I've tried finding something else,” you reminded her, doing your best not to whine. “I've been trying for months and the light at the end of the tunnel is only getting further away.”

“Well, not to shit on your dream, but no one is going to show up and take you away,” she said, finishing the rest of her drink. She was being logical, of course, but why couldn't she let you fantasize for a moment? “That's reality. It sucks, I know.”

You deflated a bit and pushed the remainder of your food around your plate. You shouldn't have said anything. “It would still be nice if someone did,” you muttered.

But it was a dream, nothing more.

Someone clearing their throat at the table beside you pulled you from your thoughts. You gasped when you looked his way. He was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. “Sorry for interrupting, but what’s your name?”

You shrugged at your friend before you answered him.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he smiled, making your cheeks feel hot. “I couldn't help but overhear your problem. I think I can help if you're serious.”

Your friend's eyes were as large as saucers, no doubt noticing just how hot he was. “Wait. Really?” You asked.

This gorgeous man heard everything you said and wanted to make your fantasy a reality?

Your heart fluttered when he smiled more. “Really.”

“You're fucking with her right?” Your friend scoffed. “You thought it'd be a funny joke to say that? That's pretty fucked up. You should mind your own business.”

His gaze flickered toward her. “And I think it's pretty fucked up that this beautiful gem is on the verge of tears because she's unhappy and you'd rather roll your eyes and brush off her feelings,” he said, directing his gaze back at you once he finished.

Both of you gasped, you from shock that he defended you and her from offense. “That. That's not what I did!” She argued.

“She’s just trying to keep my feet on the ground,” you said to keep the peace. There was no reason to make a scene.

He softly smiled. “Well, I'd like to pay for your meal, if you'll let me,” he said, flagging the server down before he leaned over to hand you a business card with a wink. There was no ring on his ring finger, which was a good sign. “And I really can help you with your problem. So, if you're interested, call me.”

You glanced at the card in your hand and ran your thumb along the name…

Whose name is it?

Well. Who is it, lovelies? Love and thanks for playing! ❤️

[topmalereaderblog]

Henry Cavill // Mature Thoughts ⚠️

Henry fucking Cavill one of Hollywood's dilfs many people wondered about Henry's life but he liked to keep to himself. Little did they know he was a massive slut for his husband's cock.

Henry was currently on all fours his hairy legs spread out taking every inch of his husband cock. It was funny to imagine such a big man turn nothing but a cock loving slut. Who would have guessed the man of steel like it up his ass.

"Look at yourself, Henry," you said, grabbing a fist full of his hair and pulling it back, making him watch himself in the mirror. "This ass is mine, right babe? Only I can make you feel good like this," his hairy ass juggled with every trust you gave."Say something for me, please baby, let me hear your beautiful sounds."

"Ah~ please, I c-cant no more" he looked fucked out with how hard you were thrusting inside him your tip constantly abusing his prostate. He couldn't even focus on himself due to the feeling of you big cock stretching him the sounds made with every thrust sounded so pornografic but fuck was it hot.

Henry could feel your balls slap against his hairy ass the lube mix with cum make its way to his hair balls and dripping onto the sheets causing a small wet stain to form underneath you both as you fucked him doggy style. "C'mon babe cum for me one more time, so close please."

You rested your chest against Henry back, trying to put yourself deeper into him. He was the best thing you've ever had, his tight entrance wrapped around you so perfectly while his walls pulsed around you. You knew he was close to cumming you he just need more motivation.

"C'mon Henry cum for me be a good boy for me."

"S-shit I can't, I can't cum anymore please," his voice sounded so out of breath so desperate. "F~fuck."

"That's right babe your so close. Look at yourself taking my cock so well," you said putting him in a headlock while making eye contact through the mirror. "Look at yourself pathetic cock maybe we should cage it up huh- you want that, want me to cage your useless cock, fuck~," you grunted out his walls were clenching tightly on you trying to milk you for everything you had.

Small moans left Henry his dick hasn't been stimulated, only relying on you to make him cum his cock swing up and down occasionally hit his his stomach and happy trail. You could feel Henry grip your arm tightly as small drops of cum came out from his tip seeing his head pulse with every drop his foreskin rolling back occasionally just a bit.

As you gave one final thrust, he could feel you emptying yourself inside him. He felt full and complete and sticky most of his cum from his previous orgams ended up stuck in his chest and stomach hair and small amounts on his pubes whiel all yours ended up deep inside him.

"I'll make us a bath," you said, kissing the back of his neck with lightly massaging his hips.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡A Lesson in Perseverance｡⋆.

Sherlock Holmes x plus size reader

The day has come where Sherlock finally takes you, even if he is far too big

Warnings: size kink, established relationship, virgin!reader, wedding night, Sherlock is a teasing shit, fingering, smut, unprotected sex

WC: 684

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

He looked godly like this, doused in flickering candle light, his curls wild atop his head as sweat dripped down his brow. He flooded your vision, he was the only thing you could see, the only anchor you had left to reality.

Pleasure had easily built in your belly, your husband driving you to the edge just as easily as he would solve a case or string the bow for his violin. You grasp for him, needing to touch his skin, to know he’s real. “Sherlock.” You mewled, your voice already fucked out and raspy.

He smirks. “That’s it darling.” He cooed, his voice dropped even lower, a mere rumbling growl in his broad chest. He had waited oh so patiently for this day and now that it was here, he would savour every delicious second of it. “Give in, let yourself open up.” A thick finger moved from your bundle of nerves down to your opening. 

His thick body was nestled comfortably between your thighs, keeping you spread open and vulnerable for him. One large hand cupped your mound possessively as his fingers explored the soft flesh. You whimpered and whined with each touch, desperate for more but terrified of what was to come. The cold metal of his wedding band cutting through the heat between your legs. The ripped remains of your wedding gown lay beneath you like a white flag of surrender, evidence of your husband’s need for your body. 

With trembling hands, you reached for him again but he smirked wickedly, his blue eyes glinting in the low candlelight and pushed your touch away, pinning your wrists to your plush stomach with one mighty hand. “Do not be so impatient. I have been waiting for this day since I first saw you- you can handle a few more moments.” You attempted to disagree but instead a moan slipped from your lips as his middle finger finally breached you.

Your cunt burned even with a stretch as small as one of his fingers but as your husband curled his knuckles, ecstasy washed over you like a comforting wave. Your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to take in a breath. And right as your back arched from the bed, your lungs finally filling with air, a second finger joined the first.

Pleasure ricocheted through you, tearing you apart and pulling you back together all at the same time. Sherlock’s smile grew darker as he watched you crumble. He had spent months thinking about this day, this moment. You were bound to him for all eternity, the perfect bride meant for him.

“I think you’re ready for me now my darling.” Sherlock withdrew his hand slowly, drinking down the gasps that escaped your lips, savouring each and every mewl. His fingers shone with your release which he eagerly licked up. “Divine. I think I will feast on you every chance I get.” You gave an embarrassed whine and turned your head away from your husband.

“Now now wife. I won’t have any of that.” He guided your gaze back to him, forcing you to look upon his large frame as he towered over you. “Your eyes will remain on me as I fuck that perfect cunt of yours.” 

After a moment, he seemed satisfied that you would not look away again, so he released your jaw, letting his hands wander down the length of your soft body until he reached your wide hips. “My beautiful wife.” That was all the warning he gave before the crown of his cock was notched at your entrance and he slowly thrust into your weeping cunt.

Pain. That was all you felt, like the sting of an insect that only grew more intense with each passing second. Your fingernails bit into Sherlock’s broad side. “Too big.” Your body was on fire, an uncontrollable flame that your husband’s lust fuelled. 

His head rolled back between his broad shoulders as he moaned, his hands gripping your wide hips even tighter. He forced even more of his considerable length inside you. “Do not fret wife, we have only to persevere.”

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[make-me-imagine]

Hold My Hand

Plot: Tensions and feelings arise when you and Sherlock end up in a precarious situation when running from a murderer.

Prompts: Forced Proximity, Sexual Tension (mild), “Hold my hand and don’t you dare let go.” <changed slightly, I hope you don't mind

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes) x Gn!Reader

Written for @multifandomfix for their birthday event. Happy Birthday! I couldn't decide on one prompt so I kind of mashed a bunch together lol.

Warnings: Nothing really.

Words: 1k.

A/N: After watched Enola Holmes 1&2 I've been debating writing for Sherlock. I have a Christmas fic planned for him, and I thought this might be a good time to test it out. Also I had no idea what to title this lol.

-

Your throat was hoarse as you ran down the cobblestone street. You glanced behind you, seeing the man chasing you not far behind. Glancing to your right, you saw Sherlock, jaw clenched, hair flying as he ran beside you.

When you agreed to help Enola with her current case - which she fervently assured you wold be an easy one - running from a murderous and crooked inspector with Sherlock Holmes beside you, was not how you thought it would end up.

Slipping through a small group of people, you stumbled to a stop, as your eyes cast over the busy market square.

"The market?" You asked out of breath.

"Yes, we could lose him in here."

The bustling crowds would surely provide you cover from your assailant, giving you time to lose him, but you risked being split up in the busy crowd.

Apparently Sherlock had this same thought, as you felt his hand reach down and grab your own. You felt your heart jolt in your chest as you looked from his hand, to his eyes, which he locked with yours.

"Hold my hand and don't let go." His voice was tense, and his gaze sharp.

You nodded, before he quickly started off into the crowded market. His hand was gripped tightly around yours as you ran close behind him, slipping through the crowds of people.

Looking back behind you, you spotted the familiar bowler hat of the man chasing you, as he bobbed through the crowd. You could tell he was losing sight of you as he hesitated in his steps.

"Were losing him!" You called to Sherlock as you weaved past a large group of vendors.

Taking a sharp left, and slipping past a market stall, Sherlock pulled you into a thin, darkened crevasse of an alleyway.

The alleyway forced proximity between the two of you, as your chests pressed together. You felt Sherlock slowly let go of your hand. You moved your hands and planted them against the wall behind you. The pressure of Sherlock's grip slowly fading.

Noting the closeness of your bodies, you found yourself holding your breath. Your eyes locked for a moment and you felt something pass between you, before you both broke eye contact and peered out into the crowds.

If your sudden avoidance of eye contact was to avoid the tension that palpitated between you, or to look for your assailant, you weren't sure.

Your eyes moved from one person to another, waiting to see the man pass by. After a few moments of not seeing him, you felt nervousness and relief wash over you. You may have lost him for now, but he could be anywhere.

Looking back to Sherlock, you felt a small jolt course through you, as you saw his eyes already locked on you. You felt the back of your neck heat up, as his eyes bored into you.

The detective had made you nervous from the moment you met him. The way his eyes seemed to follow your every movement, the way he studied you, you couldn't help but wonder what he could see. It had to be something notable since he seemed determined to keep you with him since he agreed to help Enola with her case a day prior.

Finally breaking the tension that seemed to be growing heavier between you, you spoke with a hushed voice. "What now?"

Sherlock seemed to snap out of his thoughts as you spoke. He paused for a moment as he took a breath.

"Now, we slip out into the crowd, grab something that could disguise us, and find our way back to Enola. Hopefully she and Tewkesbury have gathered the evidence she needed while we were being chased through London. She should have had plenty of time. Once we have it, we take the evidence to Lestrade, and then-" He paused, his voice going silent.

You rose your brow lightly "And then?" You asked.

"And then-" He began, his voice soft, but you saw his thought falter as he spoke "And then the case is done."

You weren't sure why you thought he intended to say something else, but you felt the disappointment of it anyways. You nodded your head as you forced yourself to look away from him.

Peering out into the crowds, you mumbled softly. "Sneak out. Find a disguise. Find Enola. Case closed. Sounds easy enough."

Looking back at Sherlock, he had a soft smile on his face "Something Sounding easy, and being easy don't always coincide."

You smiled softly and shrugged your head "I guess we'll find out if it does this time."

As you began to step out from the alleyway, you jumped back when you felt Sherlock grab your hand

"Wait."

"What?" You asked as you looked around hurriedly "Did you see him?"

"No, no, we're fine, it's just..."

You eyed him with curiosity as he seemed lost for words. "What is it Sherlock?"

"I- I don't know how much time we will have to talk once we leave this alley and get back to Enola."

You felt your heartbeat speed up as your neck grew hot again. It was unusual seeing Sherlock Holmes uncertain.

"Yes..?"

"I- I have enjoyed my time with you these last few days. You...pique my interest in ways I find to be unexpected. So, if- if it is desirable to you. Perhaps, once this case is over, you would be willing to have dinner with me?"

His previously downcast gaze slowly rose to meet yours. The restraint you had to use not to show your surprise was great. But you remained stoic, before you smiled softly at him.

"I would love to have dinner with you Sherlock."

You saw the small hint of relief wash over his face before he smiled. With a nod of his head he spoke softly "Great. I could pick you up tomorrow, around six?"

You repressed the grin pulling at your face as you nodded "Alright, six it is."

His smile grew wider for a moment before he remembered your current situation. He cleared his throat.

"Perhaps we should go now, before we are found here."

You were jolted back into the moment as you nodded your head "Yes, right."

You both spared each other soft knowing smiles before you slipped from your hideaway. Sherlock's hand reluctantly slipped away from yours as you quickly returning to your previous business. But both of you anew with an excited and expectant energy.

xx End xx

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

I have every intention of writing at least one more Sherlock fic, so if you wish to be tagged in that, or any future Sherlock fics, let me know! (Please be specific which Sherlock Holmes as there are multiple I write for)

[marveldcmistress]

Heartbreak Amongst the Harem

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the actual fuck?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sy is making breakfast,” he starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Babycakes,” Mikey tries again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, Walt.” 

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

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

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

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

“Walter kicked you out?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can find another apartment, Sy.” 

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

“When?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mikey-”

“I-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Mikey asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh yeah, he’s well and truly fucked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Geralt is coming around?” Mike says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[charles-forza-ferrari-sempre]

𝖠 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖤𝗑𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[supercap2319]

Y/N: "Okay, so we need ideas to cheer, Mr. Kent up. Any ideas?"

Steve: "We could make him a homecooked meal."

Bucky: "We could have him sit down and psychoanalysis him until he opens up and reveals the deep and emotional trauma of being stuck in another universe."

Y/N: "Well, I was just gonna offer him sex, but I like your guys' ideas better."

[ladylaviniya]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞

[keenzinemugstudent]

Smallville Clark Kent x black goth reader

Clark was supposed to take you to prom but then Lana asked him and he immediately accepts forgetting all about you...

"Do my reporter eyes deceive me or is that a smile I see on your face Y/n?" Chole asked Leaning against her locker you just let out a low laugh pretending to look for your science book

"I have no idea what you're talking about Chole." She just rolled her eyes turning towards you with a smirk on her face.

"Oh don't act innocent with me I heard it from Pete that Clark worked up the courage to ask you out for prom! How am I the last one to find out about this?!"

"It's no big deal literally we were both just sitting and talking about how we thought prom was going to be lame cuz we both didn't have a date and that's when he just asked me if could go together." I said nonchalantly closing my locker walking away Chloe scoffed and walked next to me arms crossed.

"So he asked you to prom and you're just totally okay with this?"

"Yeah I mean it's just two friends going to prom together. He's going to be in a suit and I'm just going to be in a plain old black dress no biggy!"

"Oh yeah your crush AKA Clark asked you to prom and you're not freaking out?" I bumped her shoulder caused her laughing and that's when we bumped into Clark who was holding flowers red rose's your favorite Chole looked at you with a knowing look.

"Oh hey Clark nice roses you got there buddy who's the lucky lady." Oh she was going to get it later!

Guys you won't believe what just happened!"

"Hmm let me guess you finally realize that you need a change of wardrobe and decided to go goth like me? Oh oh I know we can be goth buddies! Wouldn't that sound so much fun?" I said making funny poses to show off your goth beauty he rolled his eyes but laughed still having that big smile on his face.

"Thanks for the suggestion but no uh Lana asked me to prom." And with that the smile was wiped clean off your face you looked at Clark a bit confused.

"Wait what I thought she wasn't going to prom but she was going to skip out because of the whole Whitney thing?"

"Oh well she changed her mind and asked me if I wanted to go with her." He said blushing with a smile on his face, Chloe looked at you and you just looked at Clark like he had two heads.

"So did you say no because you know you weren't really planning to go to prom in the first place and you don't have a suit."

"I said yes and I'm pretty sure dad has one at home so wish me luck guys see you in class later Y/n!"

He said walking away from us all you could do was just stand there in shock and wondering did that really just happen? Did our whole entire conversation yesterday just flew over his head or were you just hallucinating the whole entire thing? Chloe tried to get your attention but you kind of just spaced out feeling something sliding down your cheek it was a tear...

"Y/n? Are you okay?" You wiped your face letting out a humorless laugh.

" Uh yeah I'm okay it's fine, it's totally fine I don't even know what I was thinking. I'll uh see you after class okay Chole?" Before she gets say anything you speed walked away from her holding your book close to your chest already feeling the tears escaping, today is just really sucked all because of Lana fucking Lang!

The whole day you didn't talk to anyone Chole tried to get you to say something but you stayed silent Pete who had heard what happened also tried to cheer you up but you just got up from the class room leaving for him, your two friends felt sad for you and angry at Clark who seemed oblivious to how upset you were.

"Clark we need to talk man." Pete says at Clark's place helping him find a suit for the prom tonight.

"Yeah sure what's up?"

"So uh did you notice how Y/n looked today?

"Yeah she said she had failed a math test today and was pretty bummed about it." Pete gave Clark a look and rolled his eyes putting a hand on his forehead at his friend clueless.

"Dude Y/n A class student! Why would she be upset about getting an f on her math test when math is her best subject!"

"That's true..i'll text her later ask her what's wrong she did look sad."

"Uh maybe that's not a good idea."

Clark gave Pete on a confused face and then turn to look at him .

"Okay Pete you obviously know what's happening with her more than me so why don't you just say it."

"I don't want to say anything."

"Why not? Obviously you have a big opinion on it you might as well tell me." Clark was getting annoyed and Pete was too he was there when Lana came up and asked Clark if he was going to the dance and he didn't even hesitate or think about you when saying yes it was really annoying, seeing as you were so happy but then the whole entire day you were upset.

"Okay fine I'll say it look man I'm happy that you finally had a chance to make progress with Lana but why can't you just you know realize what's in front of you and move on?"

"I don't understand I thought you'd be be happy for me. I finally have a shot with Lana."

"I am happy but weren't you already planning on not going and then you and YN had that conversation about going together?"

"I mean yeah but it wasn't serious...it was just a suggestion!"

"Maybe for you.." Clark clenched his fist.

"Come on Y/n doesn't even like prom she thinks it's lame!"

"Yeah because she's never had anyone ask her to prom dude, and the minute the guy that she's been having a crush on finally asked her out to prom you ditch her for Lana." The room was silent Clark starred at his best friend eyes wide.

"Wait...Y/n has a crush on me?" Pete nods his head.

"Yeah and she was really happy the whole day until you told her about going with Lana. Look man i get that you're happy that you finally have a chance with Lana but you really hurt Y/n." Pete grabbed his stuff and left leaving a guilt feeling Clark behind.

"Sweetie are you sure you'll be fine?" Your aunt asked sitting in the car with your uncle you have a smile.

"I'll be fine auntie I'm just going to be at home watching TV or binge watching and any snacks I'll be fine go on and have fun you guys deserve it." You're in Uncle we're going to go out and celebrate their 7th or anniversary.

"Well call us if anything happens kiddo there's some leftovers but I left some money on the table for you if you wanted to order pizza!" You uncle says you have a thumbs up and they were gone you closed and lock the door behind you let it out a sigh you are home alone on a Friday night absolutely nothing to do it sucked. You sat on the sofa eating cookies than suddenly there was a knock on the front door you had to get back up to open it that's when you saw Clark standing there you immediately dropped to the floor crawling towards the kitchen to hide from his sight so he didn't see you what is he doing here?!

"Y/n? I know your in there please open the door." You let out a scoff.

"Y/n is not here at the moment leave a message at the beep! Beeeeep!"

"Y/n! Come on!"

"Go away Kent!"

"Please just let me explain!"

"I don't want to hear it! Just go to prom with your chance to dance with Lana Lang!"

Clark winced at the anger in your voice directed towards him, now he really felt bad he honestly didn't mean to make you upset.

"Look I know I messed up but can we please just talk about it and it's raining!"

"Aww really? Well you should have thought about that before you came here without an umbrella!

a couple of minutes went by and you thought it was safe to come out cuz you didn't hear him but then you were suddenly grabbed from behind and lifted up off the ground causing you to let out a screech of surprise!

"You put me down right now Clark Kent!"

"Not until you hear me out!"

"If you don't leave I swear to God I will-!"

"Y/n please just listen okay?" He set me down but didn't let go I was now facing his chest but refused to look at him.

"Clark I'd rather not listen to anything you have to say right." I turned my face away from him trying not to let him see how upset I was but he just held me closer to his chest refusing to let go.

"I know your mad at me but I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry I'm such an Idiot."

"You're right. You are an idiot Clark! You're an absolute idiot for making me think that we are going to go to prom together! So congratulations you know you're the biggest fool I've ever met in my life!" I tired to get out of his hold but he just wouldn't but God you forgot how strong this boy was it kind of felt nice being in his arms but you were not going to forgive him that easily! You are not going to admit defeat!

"I know we both said that prom was lame but because we were both mostly upset we didn't have a date but I really did think you actually want to go with me!" I hide my face in his chest feeling tears well up he didn't say anything but his hold did loosen a bit but you were to upset to care.

"Pete told me something that had me thinking."

"Do you... like me?"

"Even if I did it wouldn't change anything now would it?"

"It would have changed a lot. Ha the farm boy and the goth girl together who would have thought?" He let's out a chuckle putting his chin on my head hugging me I let out a small laugh.

"Y/n I really really am sorry. I was so caught up on my feelings towards Lana I didn't stop to think about you."

"It's fine..."

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Don't discourage your feelings like that. You have every right to be upset." He pulls away from the hug lifting up my chin to make me look at him you let out a sigh.

"Well it's too late now. Well I doubt there's going to be a prom now that it's raining and here I was looking forward to seeing you in a suit." I gave a pout.

"We can still have prom." He gave a smile causing you to stare at him confused

Later he told you to go change into your dress which honestly confused you but listen to him when you got down stairs you saw the living room full of candles and Clark stood in the middle playing a slow song holding a red rose.

(I tried to find a black girl in goth dress but didn't find much😭)

"Clark...what is this? " You looked around in amazement he grabs your hand handing you the rose.

"Seeing as I asked you to prom first I should keep to my word."

"What about Lana?"

"I called and told her I already had plans with someone else for prom."

wow he rejected his only chance of being with the girl he's liked forever to do all this for you.

"Clark you didn't have to do all this." I looked down feeling my cheeks getting warm but he steps close to grabbing a hold of your waist causing you to look at his smiling face.

"I'd rather be here with you Y/n and this gives me the chance to finally see you in a dress for the for first time. You didn't think I was going to miss that did you?" You rolled your eyes than let out a gasp as he twirled you around the room.

"Whoa I didn't know the farm boy had moves."

"You can thank my dad for that."

"Oh I bet that was fun."

We both laugh it wasn't anything like the prom you imagined but it was close and it was comfortable I leaned on his chest feeling his warmth you could hear his heartbeat beating faster than usual

"Y/n?"

"Hm?"

"I hope this makes up for everything that I've done. I really didn't mean-" I put a finger to his lips stopping him and gave him a smile.

"Let's just have fun tonight Clark I really just wanna spent time with you." He smiles nodding grabbing your hand to land a kiss he stops to stare at you than leaned in a bit whoa whoa what's going on right now? Is he about to kiss me? Is my breath fresh? Are my lips chapped up enough oh no!

I closed my eyes but felt a kiss on my nose. I let out a sigh of relief which caused Clark to look at you confused.

"Sorry it looked like you didn't want me to kiss you...yet."

"So you kiss my nose?"

"You have a cute nose okay!"

"Well that's no fair!"

I stand in my toes to kiss his nose back which made him blush.

"There now we're even!"

"You are such a weirdo."

"Just shut up and dance with me."

"Yes my lady of the night."

"And don't you forget it farm boy."

we continue to dance to the music it was still raining outside but all that matter is that you were in the arms of the boy you cared about the most prom wasn't so bad after all.

I have noticed there are not a lot of Smallville stories and honestly I am disappointed because I grew up watching Smallville but This was absolutely fun to write and there's definitely going to be some more on the way just need to come up with some more ideas I hope you guys really liked it leave comments open to criticism and sorry if my grammar sucks😭

[angywritesstuff]

The one with the “Call her Daddy Podcast”

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

Pairings: Henry Cavill x reader (demisexual!reader)

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

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

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

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

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

Instead... 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly”

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

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

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

“Thank you”- you stopped her for a second

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t know that”

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

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

“I’m ready”

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

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

“You gotta make it count right?”

“Right”- you nodded at her

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

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

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

“I think so”

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

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

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

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

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

“wearing his clothes probably”

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

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

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

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

All around taglist: @jwspiter​

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

[topmalereaderblog]

Mature / Normal Rant

Can someone send me a request cause ? When I go to my inbox, it says there are some, but it also says it's empty when I click on it.

Also, I want to eat out Chris Evans and Henry Cavill . Could you imagine then ridding your face, or is it just me?!?! Imagine pounding them so much that they just cum right there an then your dick streching out their holes while they moan like bitches in heat. Them riding you whole wearing cock cages and wanting to be humiliated.

[make-me-imagine]

A Christmas Rose

12 Days of Christmas: Day 8

Part Two: A New Years Kiss

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

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Gn!Reader

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

Words: 1.5k

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded and smiled "Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You looked back up and smiled, shrugging your head.

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

You nodded with a smile "Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled and nodded his head "I understand"

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

"Thank you Sherlock."

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

You nodded "Yes, I will be going."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xx End xx

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

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

Cavill!Sherlock Holmes Taglist: @multifandomfix-recs