#then about the subject of prompts- I'm thinking maybe two or three per day so people have options

[multishipper-baby]

Thinking about it more deeply, I think maybe it would be best to attempt a general FHS event first and then maybe see if there's an audience for a more specific one later.

[sillyrabbit81]

Hi dear

I'm a big fan of your writing, especially the way you write Sy. Love it. If you are still taking prompts, I have one.

How would Henry and his characters react to having an Erectile dysfunction?

I think that topic is not being discussed enough.

🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for the ask Anon. I was having trouble with this ask so I discussed it with @henryobsessed and we worked on it together. To be fair, she did most of it! If you haven’t read any of her work I suggest you visit her blog and take a look at her Masterlist . She is a great friend and has a wonderful perspective and a unique style. I love her!

@henryobsessed here I have to interject and have my say too, I loved this request, it was so much fun finding creative ways to discuss a delicate subject. And for the record I may have done more characters but @sillyrabbit81 wrote more words per character HAHAHA. You are a wonderful Friend and Cavill sister you inspire and push me to be myself and I cannot be more grateful. That being said have fun reading guys 😊

Summary: Situations in which Henry and his characters suffer erectile dysfunctions

Word Count: approx 3k

Warnings: smut, masturbation (m), oral sex (m and f receiving), anal play, p in v sex, bad medical advice, incorrect use of prescription medication, bodily fluids, period sex, drunk sex, Dom/sub relationship, descriptions of violence and death,

Masterlist

Erectile Dysfunction Headcanon

Henry Cavill

Henry had been filming for months and now he was headed home for a week’s break. You sat there waiting in the tinted people mover, as Henry was ushered to the car. Lights blinded you as the door opened, he climbed in, and smiling a weary grin, he pulled you into a big bear hug. He missed you so much.

That night, he fell into your arms in a passionate embrace. You had both craved each other, missing one another’s touch. As the night progressed, you noticed things were different. For the first forty minutes you were ecstatic, he had bought you to orgasm three times. Your body was super sensitive, but every time he seemed to be close himself, the phone would ring, indicating someone needed him. You had switched it off after an hour, having enough, and wanting his undivided attention.

Henry had managed to stay hard, but after an hour and a half, it was beginning to be painful for you, and he seemed no closer. Eventually, he flopped beside you, drained from the physical exertion.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like I’m right there, but I can’t let go.”

You brought him into your arms, and caressing his back said, “Don’t worry love. It will be ok. Just give yourself a day, and maybe we can shut your phone off. I think the stress it is causing you might be a big part of the problem.”

He huffed at the thought. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe.” He sighed and soon you heard soft snores spilling from his lips.

Walter Marshall

It had been a long day, scratch that a long month. Walter had been working day and night to catch a serial killer. That night as he came home, he couldn’t forget the latest victim. What they had found had turned his stomach. In all the years he had been on the force, nothing could have prepared him for what they found that night.

Arriving home he collapsed on the bed, he was so physically exhausted, and for once sleep immediately consumed him. He woke nearly twelve hours later to the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee. He groaned; he had forgotten it was his two-year anniversary with you. Walking into the bathroom he washed his face, staring at the blood shot eyes reflected back at him.

“Come on man, get it together. You promised her,” Walter tried to fire himself up. It was no use, he was spent. Sighing, he walked into the kitchen wrapped his arms around you and breathed in the soft floral scent in your hair. For the first time in days, he felt a spark within himself, and although the horrific images still played on his mind, he felt a slight peace. He kissed your head, relieved, something could still reach him, something was still good. “Happy anniversary, love,” he growled.

After a wonderful breakfast, Walter sat on the couch with you and the two of you cuddled while watching a movie. His eyes kept sliding shut, his exhaustion made worse by his full belly. His fatigue became even more apparent when after reaching your hand beneath the blanket, you could not bring his flaccid muscle to attention.

Normally this situation would turn heated quickly, you had a way with your tongue that often had him begging for more. But Walter couldn’t get rid of the images in his mind, the battered and dismembered bodies, and the fact they were no closer to catching the killer weighed most heavily on his thoughts.

After half an hour of you trying to arouse him, Walter said in a resigned voice, “Sorry love, I don’t think I can.” With eyes that spoke of immense pain he looked at you and asked, “Could we please just cuddle? I think I need that more than anything right now.” In that moment he knew you were the one for him. He had expected huffing or crying because you thought you weren’t good enough or you asking him to please you. Instead, you had adjusted your position, so he was tucked into your body, holding him close while your hand stroked his curls.

A calm filled his soul as you whispered, “I am here for whatever you need my love. Rest now.”

Captain Syverson

You were just about to turn the light off and go to sleep when you heard the front door open with a crash and heard a rough curse. You grin, Sy was home and wasn’t sober. You knew what that meant, rough, wild, primal fucking. You quickly turn the light off and hide under the covers, well acquainted with the game, you knew how to play your part.

“Where are ya, woman?” Sy’s voice boomed at your bedroom door. “Don’t think you can hide from me. I’m hungry!”

You peek out from under the blanket, Sy had turned the light on again and was quickly undressing. You lick your lips, watching your big furry ox as he dropped his jeans, and his cock was revealed already on its way to being hard. Turning suddenly, he saw you, and you yelped covering your face again. “I see you woman, don’t play shy!” You giggle nervously, excited, your core already dampening with arousal.

Sy pulls the covers back and smirks as he sees you’re already naked waiting for him, “You’re a cheeky little thing ain’tcha?” You bite your lip, opening your legs slightly, inviting him in. Grabbing your ankles, he pulls you down the bed and gets on his knees. A low growl emanates from his throat before he dives between your legs feasting on you with an eagerness that brings you swiftly to your peak.

Licking at his lips and sucking on his glistening whiskers, he stands up pumping his cock getting it ready. Your brows pull together, puzzled, he’s always hard when he eats you out. You don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s soon ready. Sy flips you onto your knees before he enters and begins his assault on your core.

Something is wrong though, you can feel him falling out of you. Did he cum already? Sy mumbles curses, pulling out and you turn around and see him fisting himself again as he slips his fingers inside you. In a few moments he is hard again, removing his fingers and replacing it with his cock. You sigh, relieved, as he builds his rhythm, and you hear him start to groan. But soon, it happens again, and try as he might he just can’t stay hard.

“Fuck,” Sy growls. You turn around and see the look on his face, a mix of frustration and embarrassment that melts your heart. “I think I drank too much Sugar,” he says, running his hand over his short hair. “Fuck. This hasn’t happened… Fuck!”

“Hey!” you say sharply to get his attention.

“What?” Sy replies just as sharply, but he doesn’t look at you.

“It’s fine, Baby,” you assure him. You see him jut his jaw and you reach up and cup his cheeks, making him look at you. “It’s ok. You’re just a little too drunk,” you smile and give him a soft kiss. “It happens.”

“Not to me it don’t.”

“It’s not forever,” you say. “Come on, let’s go to sleep. I’m sure it’ll be back normal in the morning.” You kiss him again and pull his head down to whisper in his ear, “maybe you could wake me up like you did last week.” You pull back and smirk raising your eyebrows.

Sy grins, still a little sheepish, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes again, “You’re a good thing, Sugar.” He kisses your forehead and says, “I love you.”

Geralt of Rivia

Geralt had never in his life had this happen before. The bar maid who had eagerly agreed to keep his bed warm on this cold winter’s night, gaped in confusion.

How could it be? She thought, All the myths about Witcher’s said they were virile and could last most of the night. She had been consumed with the thought ever since The White Wolf had arrived in the area and was quick to accept his offer to take her to his bed. She was bitterly disappointed and pouted at Geralt. Her sweet, plump lips alone should have been enough to make his cock stand, but tonight it lay unmoving, and useless.

That blasted sorcerer, it must have been him who had cast a curse on Geralt. It could be the only explanation for his inadequate showing. Looking at the poor wench beside him, Geralt pitied her. She had been most eager to satisfy his needs tonight, giving a valiant effort to arouse him. No matter, he had other ways to enjoy bringing her to the height of pleasure. Granted he didn’t normally concern himself with their needs as his own normally coincided with theirs. But tonight, his fingers, and tongue would be adequate until he broke the curse and returned to give her what she truly deserved.

Mike

The party had been epic, the drinks flowed, pot was smoked in abundance and Mike had managed to capture the attentions of a wonderful long legged blonde beauty. She helped him back to her apartment and his heart rate raised as she slowly stripped him, leaving him in all his naked glory. Laying on the bed he watched as she did a strip tease for him, her perky breasts bouncing as she jiggled her ample peach in his face.

But something was wrong, the situation was right, she was right but… he held his hand out to the two or was it three beauties before him. One took his hand as he guided her to sit in his lap. He caressed her as they kissed, his tongue violating her mouth with as much enthusiasm as his inebriated self could manage. Even with her grinding against him nothing happened.

“Shit” he swore.

The girl frowned and her lips seemed to move in twisted patterns which stilled again before she snickered. An evil cackle reverberated in her throat and her face twisted into that of a demented creature. “Can’t get it up, boy?” she taunted as she continued to laugh. She collected his clothes and managed to push him out of her bedroom and into the night. Standing in the cold with only his briefs covering his body, he stumbled as he began his walk of shame home.

August Walker

August Walker was hands down, far and away, the greatest lover you have ever had. He was the only man who had ever been able to keep up with you, your average session lasting for four hours. He was able to cum and get hard again faster than any guy you had ever been with too.

But being with August meant following The Rules. There were many Rules, rules which governed how you would dress when you saw him, how you were groomed, how you were to address him and when you could contact him. There were punishments too, but you had been a good girl, never broken any of his rules, so you never gave the punishments a thought.

One of the many Rules was absolutely no snooping. He said it was for your protection as much for his privacy. You didn’t know exactly how August made his money, but you assumed it had to be from some sort of illegal activity. So, you obeyed this rule as you did the others until one evening after a marathon session, you realised you got your period. You were shocked August hadn’t said anything, clearly he had continued to fuck you while you were bleeding. You started opening his bathroom cupboards searching for a tampon or pad or something, hoping you wouldn’t have to stuff your panties with toilet paper until you got home.

You opened the cupboard behind the mirror and were surprised to see a pill bottle with little blue tablets. You recognised them and after checking the label and confirming it you were speechless. August used Viagra? But, it didn’t seem possible that he would need it, his stamina was out of this world… unless…

“What do you think you are doing Petal?” August said from the doorway, a box of tampons and a towel was in his hands.

Quickly recovering your senses, you grabbed the box and towel out of his hands and kissed his cheek saying, “Looking for those. Thank you, August.”

Quicker than you thought possible you were bent over the counter, cheek pushed into the stone benchtop. “You found my pills,” August said coldly. Leaning his body over yours, his weight pushed down on you, holding you in place as he kicked your legs apart. You muffled a cry as you felt him hard again against your ass. “I don’t need them, for most women, Petal. But for particularly slutty, insatiable, cock hungry brats such as yourself, it’s a necessary assistance.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” you murmured, hoping he would take pity on you. Tears welled in your eyes as his finger pressed against your ass, forcing your tight muscles apart and you cried as he entered you. “I’m sorry, August.”

“My dear sweet, Pet,” August grunted as he violated you with a second finger. “If you aren’t sorry now, you will be.”

Napoleon Solo

Napoleon had been watching the siren from a distance all night. Her lithe body commanded all around to her attention. After she finished singing her call to the night goddess, he made his move. Two drinks in hand he set his sights and went in for the kill.

The two danced, drank and now were in her apartment, laid out on her bed he was happily pleasing her, mouth buried between her delicious thighs. His tongue flicked expertly over her button bringing her to climax, exciting his body, he climbed forward and for the first time that night claimed her lips. They kissed passionately until something changed, his mind grew foggy, and his cock deflated.

“Aww, is the great Casanova having trouble?” she laughed her sweet siren song changing to a bitter retort. His confused eyes tried to fix on hers as she began to distort, her last words filling his gut with fear. “Don’t worry love. I’ll take good care of you Napoleon Solo.”

Clark Kent

Clark was in college and his new friend Tommy was egging him on to take Crystal out for a date. He couldn’t understand why the cheerleader wanted to take him out. He wasn’t anything special as far as she knew, but she had been flirting with him all week.

Dinner was nice and Clark was surprised when Crystal suggested they return to her share house for dessert. Nervous as he was around her, he was pleased when after ice cream he had allowed her to talk him into a make out session in her room. They had only been in the room a few moments when he had felt strange. They had been kissing, it was enjoyable, but his stomach had begun to feel off and he felt unusually tired and weak.

The more they kissed the more frustrated he was to realise he wasn’t getting a rise out of his little friend. He noticed a pendant hanging on the wall near her bed, the green stone glowed eerily at him giving him a bad vibe. After a few more moments he politely excused himself, saying he must have eaten something off. Clarke murmured apologies and gave promises that he would call her and he left. Strangely, by the time he left her house he felt better, as if he had never felt ill at all. He was only a little upset that he had ruined his chances with Crystal, something about that pendant made him hope he would never see it again.

Charles Brandon

Charles sat in the apothecary rooms, wondering what he had gotten himself in for. The King had recommended him when Charles confided in his friend of his problem.

“So young man, why are you here?” the old man asked, his face kind but stern.

“Well, I’ve been having trouble, when I pee it burns and well, I can get an erection, but it deflates quickly and sometimes I cannot get one at all. I’m also having abdominal pain.”

The old man chuckled. After examining the affected area, he turned to his wall of potions. Pulling together some salves, and powdered herbs he turned to address the Charles. “Here, rub this on the affected area twice a day, and drink this tea three times a day.” The apothecary paused and said with a grin, “And finally, give the ladies from court a rest for a bit, you will regain your vigour again.”

Shame and chagrin filled Charles as he pulled his coverings back over his privates. Taking the medicines, he snuck out of the room trusting that no one saw him, and hoping against all hope, that this would work.

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock sits back in satisfaction, marvelling at his new invention. Based on some literature he read from the America’s he perfected the design and made it fit himself perfectly.

Having commissioned the glass tube and rubber attachments, the contraption worked by winding a small handle, creating the necessary suction to create a vacuum, pooling enough blood into his cock to make it erect. By placing a rubber ring at the base of his shaft, he found he was able to maintain an erection for approximately thirty minutes. He could even bring himself to orgasm by his own hand.

It really was a delightful invention. Now, he just had to find that little vixen of a maid and see if it worked with her too. Perhaps he should try and use her mouth first.

Tag List 1

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[kevindayscrown]

Ah, I love your series with Kevin and Eric so so much! It's so good. Now that you said about prompts, I kind of would like to see Kevin talking with Jean about Eric (and maybe Jean talking a bit to Kevin about Jeremy). Of course you don't have to if you think it wouldn't belong to the plot/series but, if I'm being honest I would like to see your take on this! :')

Hello! Thank you for taking time to send me your request! For some reason, the most asked prompt both here and on insta was Kevin/Jean and their discussion about Eric! So I'll start with this one (and you were the first to send me it).

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player.

Extra Content Part 2

Ghosts

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. Head over to the directory to find the previous parts, and follow this link for the fan fic version.

Kevin still rarely talks about Jean Moreau and everything cruel that took place in the Nest. He touches very briefly upon that subject, and even when he does, he hardly ever mentions the former Raven backliner.

He knows that Eric won't push it but it becomes clear that, as the final match between the Foxes and the Trojans approaches, Kevin is more jittery and nervous.

Usually, he expresses these emotions through being extra snarky. It's also the match that will declare the champions of the season, which only adds to his demands on court.

The Foxes can hardly stand his behaviour, so they let Eric do damage control. He seems to be the only one able to tame Kevin after a total of seven hours of practice per day.

Eric has managed to find a few of Kevin's buttons that help the other relax and ease off the tension, but it doesn't always work.

It does nothing when the day of the game finally arrives.

This year, it's a home game for the Foxes, so they are saved from the trouble of travelling across the country. They can hardly accommodate the crowd this match will attract, but they know they will still have the support of their loyal fans.

Eric takes a seat fifteen minutes before first serve. He can see from the stands that, even during warm ups, Kevin is unusually silent for someone who can't stop talking about the Trojans or about game tactics.

The game finally starts and it reminds the ice hockey player of a death match. There is violent collision of bodies, curses and fights, but it's apparently all fair game. It surprises Eric, but not enough to make him take his eyes off of Kevin.

The way he moves on court, brings about a wave of pride that overwhelms Eric. He can't help the smile on his face nor the way he cheers every time Kevin scores.

However, much to the Palmetto students' dismay, the Foxes lose 8-10. The 'renovations' the Trojans did to their lineup last year and the addition of perhaps the best Class I bakcliner on their team, is enough to create the small point gap needed to secure them a victory.

Eric can already tell Kevin will not be happy about it. He decides to give the team time to process the loss and waits outside of the Foxhole Court.

Which means that the Foxes have to deal with Kevin taking their ears off about everything that went wrong. Only few of them could tell, however, that Kevin was probably judging himself the harshest for every lost opportunity.

No one wants or has the guts to tell him that many times, Kevin would hesitate simply because his offence was met with Jean's defence.

The only one who decides to do something about it is Neil. Jeremy Knox seems to agree to his plan and the two of them manage to persuade both teams to help.

And that's how Kevin finds himself facing his former teammate as he comes out of the showers, dressed and ready to leave.

The number three on the other's cheek makes Kevin want to reach for his own tattoo, to look in the mirror and see if the '2' is still there.

"Jean," he says and walks over to his locker. "What are you doing here?" His voice comes out somewhat empty and void of emotions, even if there is a whirlwind of them in his head.

"That was a good game. Your hand seems to have almost fully healed," Jean says instead.

Kevin flinches. He remembers the night he left and he is sure Jean does too. He is sure that Riko took all of his rage out on the one left behind.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he finally says.

Jean says nothing at first. He simply stares at the other. They are obviously both still haunted by ghosts of the past. And Kevin is still weighted down by the guilt of thinking only of himself that night, no matter how injured he had been.

"It doesn't matter now. That's in the past. We have both gone our own ways."

Kevin can see that. Jean looks... healthier. He has gained weight and his light skin looks less ashen than it did the last time Kevin saw him.

"The Trojans-"

"The Trojans have taken me in and have helped me stand on my own two feet. It was the best thing you could have done for me."

Kevin nods. He had known that the two of them would never be able to play on the same court together again, exactly because of their shared past.

"And I thank you for it. I know the Foxes are right for you too."

Kevin is not so sure about that sometimes, but he knew that if Wymack had not taken him in, he wouldn't be here now.

"Are you happy?" Jean finally asks. It sounds almost absurd; the two of them, happy. They had never even been allowed to make such thought in the past.

But he thinks of Eric, he thinks of his father, he thinks of all the victories he has shared with the Foxes, and nods.

"I am."

"So they were right. About you and that hockey player."

The last thing Kevin expected out of a conversation between him and Jean was to talk about his love life. But eventually, he nods slowly in confirmation.

"Yes. They were right. We are together. We have been for several months now."

Jean crosses his arms on front of his chest and watches Kevin carefully, as if calculating what to say next.

"If he can tolerate you for months now, then I suppose it does work out."

Kevin could hear the meaning behind those words. 'Don't screw up'. But he has already done so once and he isn't planning on doing it a second time.

"It does. My boyfriend comes to all my games and is there when I need him. That's enough."

Jean nods, and there is a far off look that tells Kevin that he is thinking of something similar.

"Give Jeremy my thanks. Tell him that tonight's game was good enough that it almost doesn't feel like a loss."

The small laugh that comes out of Jean catches Kevin off guard. He supposes that the Trojans have done a lot more for Jean than he had expected.

"I'll tell him. He seems to value what you have to say," he says and Kevin scoffs, grabbing his duffel bag from the locker before closing it.

"And of course you would know." Normally, someone would perceive this as teasing, but Kevin is very clear about the meaning behind his words and is sure that Jean has also understood.

"I spend a lot of quality time with my Captain. I've gotten close with him, as it's expected."

Kevin just nods, walking besides the other towards the exit.

"We will see each other again on court next year," he finally adds once they are a few feet away from their awaiting teams. "You better be prepared."

"Don't worry about that, Day. I'm sure we will get to talk again before that," is the last thing Jean says before leaving.

Kevin watches him until he feels an arm being wrapped around his waist. He turns to look at Eric, with a characteristic scowl.

"It was a good game, if that's any comfort to you," the goaltender says and chuckles as he presses a kiss to Kevin's temple.

Kevin rolls his eyes but despite tonight's loss, he somehow feels lighter in his chest.