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pirateprincessblog · 3 months ago

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contract

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: a witcher (polish: wiedźmin) is someone who has undergone extensive training, ruthless mental and physical conditioning, and mysterious rituals in preparation for becoming an itinerant slayer for hire. this witcher is currently in novigrad, and is overshadowed by his fellow brother. whenever a contract for a monster is issued, it is geralt of rivia they expect. seonghwa has grown tired of the disappointed faces that greet him when he accepts a contract, and thus has decided to rest in the big city and let the other witcher do the job. even after geralt left for skellige islands in search of his daughter cirilla, seonghwa decides to keep aside out of spite.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: witcher!seonghwa, catschool!seonghwa, highervampire!reader, f!reader, the witcher universe, smut, angst 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: oral(f!receiving), fingering, squirting, bondage 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: blood, violence, alcohol, nsfw, vampires 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: replaying witcher 3 and I absolutely love this universe! i hate what netflix did to it, it made it all gloomy and sexual and has little to no connection to the lore and aside from henry cavill and his sexy ass voice the show is a complete disaster. if you want to know more about this universe before reading, i suggest you watch this(these animations contain violence, nudity and blood in them!): https://youtu.be/1-l29HlKkXU?si=HAI0GckIcphtcTRa and https://youtu.be/c0i88t0Kacs?si=vvXEaYu_SThzEPNT

not entirely proofread forgive me! 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚��.

the witcher sips his drink at the rosemary and thyme cabaret. the redanian lager in the wooden pitcher has never tasted worse, and the music has never scratched his ears as badly as tonight. he hated what jaskier has done with the brothel. a cabaret, he scoffs to himself.

"oi, witcher!"

the man sighs. even though he was forcing himself to drink the beer and didn't enjoy it, he also didn't enjoy being interrupted.

"'ave you checked the notice board? there's a witcher contract hangin' there for weeks!" the accent behind him is rough. a dwarf, he guesses. but he doesn't have to guess, because the short figure appears in front of him and slams the crumpled piece of paper on the wooden table. "while you're 'ere tryna plough some whores, there's a threat inside the city gates!"

"geralt can handle that." the witcher mumbles, pushing the paper away. he drinks another sip of the warm beer, eyes fixed on the discarded medallion next to his two swords on the table. "he is the mighty wolfie. i'm sure he'll handle it."

"in case ya haven't noticed," the dwarf dares to get into the witcher's face, even goes as far as to flick him on the forehead. "the white wolf has gone lookin' for his lost lass. he is probably already in skellige, solvin' contract after contract and still workin' on finding cirilla. like a true witcher."

when the witcher's eyes start glimmering a familiar yellow, and his irises resemble the cat's, it is a sign for the dwarf to back away. the man places the pitcher with a loud thud on the table, then slowly stands up. his armor clinks as he moves, and his glowing eyes drill into the man's scared ones. still, the shorter male doesn't flinch, even if his eyes give away his emotions.

"when the white wolf comes, he can solve your fucking contract." the witcher doesn't need to raise his voice. the way he growls is enough to make a beast tuck its tail and lower its gaze. which is what the dwarf should be doing now. "as if you know what a true witcher is. stupid humans, hiding in your houses at every wolf howl and owl hoot, burning mages and sorceresses at stakes because they are different than you, casting elves out, calling us witchers mutants, yet crying for help and leaving pathetic notes and contracts on notice boards when you realise just how weak and mortal you are compared to all of us."

"young lasses 're getting killed left and right, and you only care about yer dick and where to get drunk."

"well, certainly not here anymore."

the taller man throws a few coins on the table, not bothering to pick up the ones that fell on the ground. he then takes his swords and puts them on his back, along with the crossbow. the medallion necklace rests in his pocket this time instead of around his neck.

as he makes his way outside, the music doesn't stop, nor do any of the guests or dancers turn to look. they are used to the moody witcher by now. yet the dwarf doesn't give up.

"ye know, i wish geralt were here. he has a daughter. he wouldn't think twice before accepting this contract. you? you are just a coward."

"hey, hey! seonghwa, endarn! you're upsetting my guests!"

"mind your business, jaskier. i am out of here anyway. doubt i'll come back any time soon. you and your cabaret." the dark haired witcher, seonghwa, spits on the ground.

the young bard rolls his eyes. if he didn't know geralt, he would have a very bad opinion about witchers. "passiflora is just a few blocks away. you know, a real brothel. also, not to be rude, but you were a few crowns short back there."

seonghwa grunts. he reaches into his pocket and finds a few more coins, then throws them behind his back and follows the trail to the famous brothel.

"are all witchers 'xcept geralt like that?" the dwarf asks, disappointed.

the bard takes the contract from his hand, looking at the messy hand-writing, then at the stumbling witcher. "no. just the cat school ones. or so i've heard."

meanwhile, seonghwa has found his way to the passiflora brothel. he isn't usually like this, really. but recently, people have been asking for witchers, and when he'd show up, they'd be disappointed it is not his friend and colleague geralt. witchers are not supposed to feel or show emotion. but seonghwa has had enough. just a week ago he had slayed a striga, and the only gratitude he got was a raw fish into his face and a few crowns. he wasn't sad. he was angry that these people had the audacity to plead for help and be picky about it.

he wasn't ploughing anyone. the brothels were the only place where he had peace. people too focused on lust and fun, it allowed seonghwa to sit in the corner and sip his favourite kaedwenian stout in peace. he'd sometimes take a girl upstairs, only to give her a pouch of coins so she can leave him to sleep in peace. some would be relieved, some offended. but seonghwa didn't care. all he wanted was rest.

tonight, however, he needed to switch locations. ever since jaskier met his soulmate, his brothel has transformed into a cabaret. yes, the bard wanted to do that before meeting her. but he delayed it. and seonghwa liked it. now? everyone was at his neck, especially since they discovered that jaskier knows not one, but two witchers. favor here, problem there, and seonghwa couldn't catch a break. this one has rats, this one has a ghoul in his basement, and this one wants to act tough and challenge him to a fist fight so he can win a girl over.

the dark haired man glances at the wooden sign that reads passiflora, before carefully entering. he is greeted with a rather sweet scent and sensual music. the people inside aren't half naked like they were back in rosemary and thyme. they were dressed in prettiest dresses, had their hair decorated with all sorts of pins, and were in elegant make-up. a true refreshment. the place didn't reek of sweat, and wasn't loud at all. no sights of shirtless men with their hairy belly out, no women with missing and unbrushed teeth, no stench of alcohol and bodily fluids. seonghwa was pleasantly surprised.

"ah, a witcher!"

and there it is.

"please, do come in. care for a drink? your first one is on the house."

odd. the middle aged woman didn't bombard him with a plea for help. nor did she look at him with judgement. "thank you...?"

"mathilda is enough." she smiles at him. seonghwa can't remember the last time someone smiled at him genuinely.

"thank you, mathilda."

mathilda turns out to be the owner of the brothel. she has black hair, with dozens of grey strands blending in it. her face has minimum makeup, or so seonghwa thinks. what does he know about makeup? her dress is modest, and he comes to a conclusion that she might be retired. she is also very pleasant to speak with. so pleasant that the witcher doesn't realise how fast the time is passing and how much more talkative he is getting.

"so, which one of the girls has caught your attention?" the woman turns away from the bar, and so does the witcher. he sips his third drink of the evening as the woman points at the girls in the room. "we've got a few new girls, eager to prove themselves. how do you like them?"

when seonghwa glances at the clock, he decides it might be time to go and rest. so he skims over the pretty girls that dance and speak to other customers. some of them are relaxed, as if this is their home, and some are stiff and nervous. his yellow eyes then pick up a figure in the corner, standing all by herself with her arms folded across her chest. her hair is decorated with gold hairpins, and head chain sits prettily on her forehead. it reminds seonghwa of an elven princess. her dress is a deep green, parting at her thighs and falling to the ground. it has a deep cut that goes to her stomach, and it seems that she is trying to hide her exposed skin.

"ah, y/n." mathilda notices his lingering gaze. "good luck with it. i gave her another week to relax, i won't push her yet. if she doesn't change within a week, i'll have to fire her. shame, really. she is gorgeous, and has brought me many new customers."

seonghwa hums. he then locks eyes with the beautiful figure's ones, and downs his beer. to both his and mathilda's surprise, the young woman makes her way towards the bar. for a moment, they think that she might pass by them and just order herself a drink. instead, she places her hand on the witcher's chest, feeling the cold silver armor under her palm.

"good evening, witcher." her voice is as sweet as honey in seonghwa's ears. he is mesmerized, and she has only spoken a few words to him. "come to release some stress?"

seonghwa watches as her glossy lips move while she speaks. subconsciously, his hand reaches for her cheek to cup it, thumb grazing over her bottom lip and eyes focused on the tongue that peeks out to lick the tip of his finger. he almost shudders at the action. the young woman is determined to prove herself, and goes a step further. she wraps her small hands around his big one, and guides his thumb between her lips, gently swirling her warm tongue around it and sending shivers down the witcher's spine. seonghwa feels his trousers tighten; something he hasn't felt in a while.

she releases his finger with a soft pop, but keeps his hand safe in hers near her chest. "i've always wanted to meet a witcher."

and how could seonghwa refuse her, when she looks at him with big pleading eyes, her chest heaving, and with her lip gloss smeared. the desire to smear it further awakens in him, and he wastes no time in paying for his drink and thanking mathilda. the young woman keeps the witcher's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers as she leads him upstairs and into one of the rooms.

usually, this is the part where seonghwa explains that he is not interested in any sexual interactions. but the way the green dress slides off her body, and the way the fireplace illuminates her skin makes his head spin. she turns around, body bare except for the cotton panties that sit on her hips. seonghwa, however, is still in his witcher gear. the feline armor is suddenly too heavy on him. she seems to hear his thoughts, because she is quick to approach him and press her warm bare chest against his clothed cold one. her delicate hands slip around his waist, and on his back, until they reach the belt that holds his weapons.

"may i?"

it only takes a nod from him to get rid of the entire armor and the clothes underneath. he is now also left in his underwear, and he can't wait to take them off too.

"can i give you a massage, witcher?"

seonghwa swears he hasn't heard a voice so seductive... ever. smooth, sweet, breathy. the way she sighs and breathes against his neck as her fingers work on the knots on his shoulder blades relaxes him. before he can fall asleep on the chair in front of the mirror, she wakes him up with a playful hair pull. he only scoffs with amusement. his eyes follow as her last piece of clothing slides down her smooth thighs and pools on the ground. then, she herself gets on the ground on all fours, and crawls over to the stunned witcher.

"what are you-"

"hush, pretty." if seonghwa had anything to add or even finish his sentence, a gasp stops him. he watches as the young woman catches the string of his underwear between his teeth, and pulls until they come loose and fall to the ground.

is she really new?

seonghwa does not complain. he does complain however when she stands up, taking his rough hand in her soft one and guiding him towards the bed. the sight of someone like that getting on her knees for him was a first, and he wanted to savor it just a tad bit longer.

"talk to me, witcher." she climbs on top of him, soft smooth skin caressing his scarred and rough as she lays on top of him. her breasts are squished against his hard chest, and his hands immediately reach for her waist to hold. "tell me what you want. i'll give you all of it."

seonghwa stops for a moment. he isn't sure what he wants. yes, he slept with women before. he slept with sorceresses too. all of them were the same; get it in and over with. seonghwa would simply lay there and let them chase their own pleasure. he would reach his own too, and he never thought further of it. they even complimented him, saying how no man has made them feel that good, that their partners would usually do it for themselves and leave them to finish on their own. now, however, seeing this beauty pressed against him and looking at him with pure desire, he might discover something new. he might put himself first. not that he didn't enjoy the previous encounters. he is just eager to see what she has to offer him. "i give you full freedom to do whatever you wish to me."

her lips stretch in an excited smile, and her eyes have a certain glint. if seonghwa wasn't so painfully needy right now, he would've questioned it. true witcher style.

"just... one thing."

"yes?"

seonghwa's hands reach for the green dress that was dropped on the floor. he hands it to her, and she looks at him with confusion. was he rejecting her?

"put it on."

"but- why?" her lips form a pout. "did i displease you somehow?"

the dark haired witcher smiles. he then simply sits up on the bed, hands still firmly planted on her waist as she fumbles with the green fabric. "no. you just look too stunning in it to leave it on the floor. no panties."

"oh." she exhales, relief washing over her body. "you do realize that you're the first man i've given myself to in this building and you're asking me to cover up?"

seonghwa doesn't respond, but instead watches her dress. her look is complete once again, except for the heeled boots that still lay on the floor. not a single sorceress he has met could compete with her. "so you were waiting for a witcher to be your first?"

"perhaps." her hands reach for the pins in her hair, but seonghwa stops her there too. she then scoffs in disbelief, but obeys anyway. "whatever i want, huh?"

"whatever you want." seonghwa sighs, body fully relaxing on the soft bed and eyes closed. his hands remain on her now clothed waist. he doesn't know what it is, but it gives him a sense of dominance, even if she is the one on top. her body feels small and fragile, and he has the urge to hold her, as if to protect her.

a sweet scent of berries envelops his senses, as well as his mind. her breath warms his neck, just a small warning before her lips attach to his skin. he can't help but flinch. she smiles against him, grazing his neck with her teeth. "found a sensitive spot it seems."

seonghwa only hums. his grip on her waist hardens as she kisses along his jawline, and her nails softly graze the path from his chest, down his stomach and to his defined v-line. finally, she attaches her lips to his. her other hand finds its way to his dark hair, softly massaging his scalp and lightly pulling the strands as he kisses her back. seonghwa feels as if this is his first proper kiss. nobody has ever kissed him before with such desire.

she grinds her hips against his, core lightly grazing his aching crotch, not yet giving him what he needs. as if he wasn't burning with need already, feeling her wet core slide against him only set him further on fire. he never said he was a patient man anyway.

he flips her on the bed with ease, now him being the one on top and in charge. his lips hungrily search for hers, tongue yearns for hers, and hands play with the sheer fabric of the dress. he doesn't care where he touches her. he just wants to feel her.

"thought i had full freedom?" she teases into the kiss.

he doesn't reply, instead biting her lower lip and sucking at it. she whines at the sweet pain, and if seonghwa didn't feel her body arch against his, he would've stopped. his lips chase hers, and no matter how many times his tongue rubs against hers, teeth clash against hers, and lips wipe the remaining lip gloss off hers, he can't get enough. "you taste so sweet."

even though he could spend the entire night just kissing her and feeling her body squirm under his, seonghwa proceeds to leave kisses down her neck, then the exposed skin between her breasts and all the way to her belly. the dress opening ends there, but it doesn't stop him. he disappears under the green ruffles, nose bumping against the soft folds and tongue searching for the source of heat.

he never did it. he wasn't exactly sure how. all he knew is that he needed to taste her, all of her. with a single swipe up her folds, he has her squirming. he subconsciously grabs her thighs and pulls her closer to his face, holding her in place and burying himself into her core. she does taste as sweet, and smells as delightful. the noises that travel to seonghwa's ears are new to him. never did he hear a woman be so whiny and loud. moans? sure. but whines? that was new. and he wasn't sure if it is a good or a bad thing.

"please..." she finally mutters a word.

the witcher emerges from the green ruffles of her dress, sending her a questioning look. when he sees her flustered face and heaving chest, sleeves pushed down so that her breasts are exposed and her hands playing with the tense nipples, seonghwa realizes what he has been missing out on. there was more to it all than just an orgasm.

and he was going to savor all of it.

"please." she begs again. "i'll be good, just please..."

"please what?" the witcher questions.

"give me something. anything." she shudders when his finger grazes her tense clit. "please."

seonghwa doesn't wish this to end yet. he is loving the impact he has on someone. on her. he can't get over her beauty, or her taste. when he finishes taking in the sight of her half naked and flustered state, he attaches his lips to her clit once again, tongue swiping over the sensitive bud in circular motions and fingers searching for her leaking hole. her moans are more high pitched, and the grip on his hair stronger as he slowly inserts his finger inside. he wastes no time in adding another one, slowly pumping in and out and exploring which motions make her louder and her fingers pull at his hair harder. when he finds a certain spot on her upper wall, he abuses it, to the point where she shakes under his touch and moans turn to a blubbering mess.

"oh, witcher-" she gasps, body suddenly tensing and thighs squeezing around his head.

seonghwa doesn't have time to process what is happening, because he is greeted by clear fluid splashing his face. he doesn't stop yet, even though he wasn't exactly sure what happened. the young woman is a twitching mess under him, grinding her hips against his face and riding out her orgasm. when she starts pulling at his hair to pull him away from her, he takes it as a sign to stop.

"well," he flips the bottom of her dress over, exposing the abused core to the cool air that comes from the open balcony door. "i've never done that before."

"me neither." she admits, face red with embarrassment when she sees the witcher's soaked face. "i'm sorry."

"don't apologize. i am the one that should be apologizing."

"what for?"

instead of answering, he simply kisses her once again, savoring every caress of her tongue against his and every little noise she makes as his hands travel up her body and to her exposed breasts. the rough skin of his worn out fingers give her tense buds a gentle sensation. just enough to have her body arching against his and seek more of his warmth and touch. as she busies herself with playing with his hair and caressing the scars on his back, seonghwa slowly slides inside, letting out a low groan at the warm welcome.

he misses the way her eyes widen and her nails dig into his back. he is halfway in, struggling to go further. when her pretty face makes a painful grimace and a cry leaves her lips, seonghwa stops. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," she blinks her tears away.

"tell me." the witcher cups her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks and wiping the tears away.

"you're big."

his brows furrow. at first he isn't sure what she means, but when he feels her walls clench around him, he realizes. "oh."

"it's alright. keep going." her hands cup his face now, mimicking him. "just go slow."

but the witcher finds himself getting impatient once again. the way her warmth squeezes around him makes him see stars. and just like that, seonghwa finds himself snapping his hips into hers. a painful moan escapes her pretty lips once again, and seonghwa is quick to press his lips into hers to conceal it. she is mess, shamelessly moaning into his mouth whenever his hips collide with hers. tears roll down her cheeks once again, and this time, seonghwa doesn't stop. instead, he slows his pace, opting for sensual moves rather than rough ones.

"you're so big..." she sighs against his lips. "you're going to split me open."

if he could get any rock harder, he would. hell, he might even cum right there and then if it wasn't for the slow moves he was forced to do. "are you complaining?"

"not a bit."

tears of pain soon seem to transform into tears of pleasure, because when seonghwa starts snapping his hips against hers again, she only moans and groans. her walls tighten around him, announcing that she is close again. the witcher holds her waist in place, and his eyes can't get enough of her expressions, or the way her body responds to him and looks so fragile in his arms.

"cum in me, witcher." she begs. "fill me to the brim."

and seonghwa does just that. his moves become sloppy, and his concealed groans are now loud and clear as he pumps his seed into the beauty below him. he sees a slight bulge on her lower stomach when he goes to look where they are connected. fuck, he wants her again. and again and again. until the sun rises, just to watch the pure bliss on her face again.

"are you close?" he asks breathless. he is not yet overstimulated, he is just getting started.

"shut up." she chokes out, clearly focusing on reaching her peak and not wanting to be disturbed.

this time, instead of a moan of ecstasy, her mouth opens without any noise coming out. her eyes roll back, almost all the way, before her body starts twitching as waves of pleasure wash it over. her nails dig into his back, so deep that they pierce his skin and have him wincing in pain. then, her eyes roll back. and seonghwa stiffens.

dangerous red irises stare back at his yellow alert ones. the witcher instinctively reaches for the sword on his back, only to be met with emptiness. the figure below him gives him a wicked smile, with fangs on full display before latching herself onto his neck and piercing his skin once again.

fuck.

seonghwa didn't expect to be awoken in the bed he was in last night. truth be told, seonghwa didn't expect to be awake at all. however, when he tries to move and reach for his weapons that lay on the dresser next to the bed, strains prevent him. strains on both his wrists and ankles. the blinds are blocking the morning sun, keeping the woman who sat in front of the mirror safe. for now.

"why am i alive?"

she looks at him through the mirror, smile dancing on her lips. she runs a comb through her hair and removes the golden pins in the process. "good morning, little witcher."

"let me go."

"well, since you asked so nicely." she rolls her eyes, standing up from the chair and approaching the bed. the green dress is replaced by rags seonghwa usually saw in the war destroyed villages of velen. all of her jewelry sits on the dresser in front of the mirror, including the headpiece that drove seonghwa crazy last night. "come to think of it, i never got to return the favor. you were so eager to fuck me."

he doesn't have to question, because she gives him the answer by running her nails up his thigh and to his crotch. "stop that."

"your cock says otherwise, slayer." when seonghwa doesn't respond to her touch, she huffs. "boring. well, off i go. you better not go anywhere while i'm gone."

seonghwa had many questions on his mind. he didn't know which one to ask first. and he didn't know whether or not he will get a truthful answer. or an answer at all. after all, this was the higher vampire he had a contract on. how foolish of him to leave that medallion in his pocket instead of around his neck. it would've vibrated the moment she laid her hand on his armored chest, and she would've been dead by now.

"isn't mathilda going to question this... situation?" he looks at the ropes holding him to the bed.

"mathilda doesn't care what happens during the day. she only needs the rooms free at night. this room is mine, and i can use it however i please."

"why are you dressed like that?"

"as if you haven't stumbled upon false beggars by now. please, seonghwa." she straightens her rags, and glances at herself in the mirror once again. "you think of us monsters so lowly. like we are stupid. thing is, you're not that different. you're not a human. you're just a mutant."

seonghwa hums, unamused. "it's daylight. how will you go out?"

"there's shades in this city. plenty of them. now, be a good little witcher and stay here." she plants a kiss on his forehead, then turns to leave.

but the witcher is quicker, and grabs her by the rags and tosses on the bed. while he was questioning her, he managed to free one hand from the ropes with his teeth. her eyes turn red again, anger evident on her face.

"silly witcher." her teeth are quick to sink into his flesh again, causing seonghwa to growl with pain. she slurps on his hot blood, moaning in the process, the scent and taste of iron giving her bigger pleasure than anything else. when she pulls away, she has a look of victory and proud on her face. right until seonghwa smirks.

"true. i do think you are stupid." she steps away from him, suddenly feeling dizzy. while stepping back, her shoe kicks something on the floor, causing it to shatter. an empty potion bottle.

"what- what have you done?"

the witcher then frees his other hand, and reaches for his silver sword while the vampire tries to decipher just what he did to her. she gets her answer when she looks at herself in the mirror, veins prominent and pitch black. shaky hands hurriedly get rid of the rags and expose her body. he drank a potion to poison his blood because he knew she'd drink again. her eyes catch a glimpse of the shiny silver through the mirror, and she is quick to dodge it and jump on the bed.

the cut off and untied ropes hang uselessly from the bed frame. or maybe not completely useless. "how should i kill you?"

"no, please." the young woman sits against the bed frame, knees pulled to her chest and hands hugging them in defense. "please."

"i am doing you a favor by asking. silver..." he holds the shiny sword up, runestones making the marks green and match the dress on the floor. "or gold." he points to the balcony door with blinds. a ray of sun has managed to break through, lighting up the medallion that now rests on his chest, vibrating and alerting to danger.

"please." she begs. "i just want to live. we just want to live."

"so does the folk. and you don't let them."

her teary eyes don't work on seonghwa this time. they only make him angrier. she used him. and he fell for it. he was angrier with himself for allowing a woman's seducing to work on him like that. if she were a sorceress, he'd understand. he cannot escape the strong grip of magic. but a vampire? all these years of work and training seemed for nothing. he only hopes geralt doesn't find out about this.

"i don't kill. i just feed!"

"you feed on women and children."

"children are just weak. and those women weren't worth anything! their husbands would come and fuck me, and then offer their wives to me!" she then gets on her knees, hands in a pleading motion. "please, witcher. you kill to survive. so do i."

"no."

in a few seconds, the young woman is bound to the bed, hissing and growling at the witcher as he approaches the balcony door.

"i kill to save people. you kill to save yourself."

with that, he pulls the blinds, allowing the sun to enlighten the room and the nude figure on the bed.

"your kind will no longer torment people. i won't stop until i've killed the last one of you vampires, hags, wraiths and ghouls. i exist for the sole purpose of exterminating you. and that is what i'll do. even if it takes all my life."

the vampire is in no position to form any sentences, body seething and glowing under the morning yellow sun. the witcher is unfazed, already used to it. he calmly puts his armor back on, puts the weapons on his back, and gives the vampire a final glance before going downstairs to sign the contract and collect his reward.

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blackynsupremacy · 3 months ago

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CLARK KENT HELPING YOU TAKE OUT YOUR BRAIDS HEADCANONS

pairing: henry cavill!clark x blackfem!reader

fandom: DC

this was brewing in my head while actually taking out my braids today. plus, i wanted to give my baby henry a shot at this.

summary: it’s that time again! time to take down those 1-2 month old braids to prepare for your next fresh set. the only problem is, it’s raining, you’re tired, and you know it’s gonna take forever. yeah even getting your hair taken down, washed, detangled, and dried can be a hassle. fortunately, your fiancé, clark kent, is always happy to help with the process.

contains: lots of words, some things are based on true events, self insert, fluff, romance, established relationship, you and clark are simps, you and clark being fine, nudity but no smut, clark being a green flag, cuddling, kissing.

taglist: @rosiestalez @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @simply-the-best23 @jkr820 @zombiehe4rt @elitesanjisimp @sabrinasopposite @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn

(i know i didn’t ask if ya’ll wanted to be tagged, but y’all are mutuals that consistently interact with my posts, so this is how i’m showing my appreciation! thank you! let me know if any of yall want to be tagged in my next blurb. again thank yall and i love my mutes)

• work was work today.

• it’s raining like hell.

• but good news, you’re getting your hair done this weekend! ain’t nothing like a fresh set of braids.

• the bad news, you gotta take out the old braids, wash/condition/detangle, and blow dry your hair all before your appointment. (yk how these new hair stylists be)

• girl, you’re dead tired, but you know you need to start asap!

• good news again though! your man clark kent is already home and you know he’s always down to help with your hair.

• ya’ll have been dating for 4 years before he popped the question a month ago on your anniversary.

• one thing about clark kent, he’s gonna hype up your hair no matter what style.

• he believes you’re stunning whether you have braids, twists, a lace front, locs, a slick back ponytail, a silk press or, your natural. he loves it!!

• he loves to watch you style it on your own or if you’re following along to a youtube tutorial.

• you’ve taught him a thing or two like taking down braids, detangling, applying edge control, and even helping you to wash and condition it!

• he catches on pretty fast and follows your instructions to a tee.

• his love language is acts of service and when it comes to your hair, he wants to make sure he does it properly.

• he told you he wants to continue learning because he can see himself helping out with your future daughter’s hair, so why not start with his future wife?

• this man is going to be the death of you.

• you see clark sitting on the couch with his laptop. as soon as he hears the door shut followed by your sigh of exhaustion, he’s already putting that to the side and zooming in your direction to take your bag, umbrella, and jacket off your hands.

• this man is teeth rotting sweet. how’d you get so blessed?

• he greets you with a warm embrace and plants a kiss atop of your head. he peeps that new growth, but he won’t mention it until you do.

• you both take a seat on the couch and have a brief conversation about each other’s day. you sigh again and run a hand through your hair one last time.

• “it’s about that time, clark. i’m getting my hair done soon and i need to start taking my braids down, but i’m so tired!”

• you whine and lean your head on his broad shoulder before you peer your “please help me” doe eyes into his blue ones that were hiding behind his glasses. he doesn’t hesitate to keep that eye contact either. it’s so intense yet intimate. you almost look away because even after 4 years, clark can still get you a bit flustered from time to time.

• “baby, would you like to help me out again? i promise you’re not gonna have to do all the work. i just need some assistance to get this done faster.”

• you playfully pout and bat your lashes. you already know the answer, but this brought you joy. you knew he was waiting for an opportunity to help with your hair again.

• he shows off those pearly whites before he enthusiastically responds, “i’d never thought you’d ask. you go change into something more comfortable, i’ll handle the rest, and we can get started.”

• he lays a chaste kiss to your lips and pats your behind to signal for you to handle your business and you don’t hesitate to do so.

• by “handling the rest”, clark gathers the necessities: 2 pairs of scissors, a detangling comb, 4 hair ties for sectioning, a plastic bag from that one drawer in the kitchen, your satin bonnet, and an order of chinese takeout placed on doordash.

• clark was waiting on the couch and he gleamed when he saw you come back clad in a white tank, no bra, grey cotton shorts, and one of his oversized, plaid flannels.

• as soon as you found yourself comfortable on the couch, clark handed you a pair of scissors and ya’ll got to work at cutting the braids shorter before you both section off your hair into 4 parts and start unbraiding from the front.

• you started on the right side, while clark took over for the left.

• you obviously know of clark’s abilities, his extraterrestrial heritage, and his intense duties as superman. he makes sure his powers can be of help in the most important areas of his life, one of them being your relationship.

• he’s had some practice with unbraiding and his fingers moves like clockwork. he moves at a delicate, quick pace and uses his keen eye to make sure your hair doesn’t get tangled or pulled, so there’s no unnecessary breakage. braid by braid, each one is removed out of your head and into the empty, plastic grocery bag that’s placed between you two.

• he’s seen you sometimes get it tangled and you would be quick to just cut it off, but with his aid, you’ve been doing that less frequently.

• after about 30 minutes, clark can already hear the doorbell ring and footsteps walking away. the food’s here.

• he opted for contactless delivery this time because he knew he just had one more braid….and done!

• he urges you to give your hands a break from unbraiding your side and to wash them because your dinner has arrived. he chuckled as you perked up hearing that because you were hon-grey!!

• he also takes it upon himself to gently place your satin, royal blue bonnet on your head.

• it’s his absolute favorite because it’s patterned with his iconic red and gold family crest!

• you have a friend who owns a small business of designing bonnets, durags, and head scarves with the cutest patterns imaginable for black nerds like you.

• they got some with superheroes, anime characters, hogwart house symbols, disney, you name it!!

• 2 years ago, you asked them to commission a bonnet to match his heroic attire.

• this was to show him that you’re proud of his kryptonian roots and that you 100% support him being one of the world’s most selfless heroes along with the other members of the justice league.

• you sometimes worry for his life, but he always tries his best to make it back to you in one piece.

• but girl, that bonnet had him geeking when you showed it to him!! his face heated with a bright hue of pink before he plants a billion kisses all over your face. his voice never ceasing his appreciation and eternal love for you.

• you both chill for a few minutes to eat and watch some tv.

• you stretch your hands, placed your bonnet on the coffee table and resumed to unbraiding the last strand on the front before sectioning it off with a hair tie and starting on the back of the right side. it seems that time moves slower (or faster) as your fingers meticulously unravel each braided strand.

• clark is half way done with his entire side. his brows raise at the sound of your soft groan of what seemed to be pain and exhaustion.

• “babe, my fingers are starting to cramp and so are my arms.” you gripe and pause your movements to massage out the stiffness in your fingers.

• clark also pauses what he’s doing. he delicately grasps your hands into his, sprinkling tiny pecks on each aching knuckle. his pink lips lingers on the rock that adorns the fourth knuckle of your left hand before those baby blues gaze into your own eyes.

• you could clearly see your worn reflection in his pupils, but you lovingly smile as you know what he’s about to say.

• “c’mere, beautiful. let me take care of the rest while you sit and relax. it’s just a few more and it’s nothing i can’t handle, so it’ll be my pleasure.”

• that’s true. clark’s an invincible kryptonian. unless your hair was laced with some green k, a cramp within the joints of his digits wouldn’t be possible. if you ask, he would one day take out your braids all by himself without you having to lift a finger and he’d be in pure bliss of taking that burden off your plate.

• he spreads his thighs apart. the large palms of his hands encircle around your waist to shift your body in between his legs before his fingers get back to tenderly remove the last remaining braids.

• as he does so, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. ya’ll would be cracking jokes, planning suggestions for the wedding, your jobs, and a myriad of other topics to kill time.

• about 30 more minutes pass by and your braids are finally out! he leans back feeling accomplished and marvels at how much your hair has grown over the month.

• “may i?” he politely asks. his expectant eyes glancing into yours for approval.

• “of course, kal.” you grin. it’s like seeing a child light up in a candy store, he’s so elated.

• you feel more at ease and lean into his touch as his fingers lovingly caress through your natural hair and scalp.

• you know that he just wants to feel your hair in it’s natural state. it’s not out of a fetish, but out of pure fascination, so you let him!

• you love that even though you’ve been together for 4 years and he’s helped you with your hair on multiple occasions, the curious kryptonian wonders why he always has to ask you before touching your hair.

• as a journalist, he’s gonna conduct his own research.

• he educates himself and he understands the history of that one boundary in your community, so he always asks you before touching your hair or he waits for you to offer.

• he’s not even human and he understands the basic human decency of not to reach out and touch someone’s hair out of nowhere.

• you sigh in relief and thank clark with a kiss before you go to dispose the plastic bag of worn out braids to the kitchen and into the large garbage can. you turn around and lean up against the sink.

• now it’s time to wash, condition, detangle, and dry.

• clark already knows the next step. he stands from his position on the couch and stretches his back muscles. he moderately saunters to the arched threshold that separates the kitchen and living room. his tall stature works in his favor as he casually raises his arms with his hands gripping the arch that’s a few inches above his head.

• you know exactly what pose i’m trying to poorly describe to the best of my ability. it happens to be one of those non-sexual turn ons that men do without them realizing.

• you go into a bit of a hypnotic state as you stare at his bulging biceps. you also take notice of how his white t-shirt raises up to expose a small section of his sculpted abdomen. the raven tresses on his skin that perfectly matches the messy curls on his head form a trail straight down to his—

• the trance is broken by the baritone voice of your fiancé.

• “my eyes are up here, angel. were you even listening to me?” he flirtatiously quips and tilts his head with a playful smirk curving on his lips, lowering his arms to cross them over his chest.

• like some suave lady killer, he approaches you and places his index under your chin to shift your gaze to his.

• girl, not you getting caught in 4K! you know that man is fine, but you got to finish off your hair. there’s no time to waste when it comes to that, so you must stay focused.

• you can’t help, but feel the heat of embarrassment rush on your melanated cheeks and giggle nervously before you confess.

• “i’m sorry, clark! after all of these years, you still get me sprung. now, what were you saying, boo? ”

• “it’s no worries, (n/n). don’t doubt that you’ve got the same effect on me too.” he blushes himself, beaming at the compliment and pecks your forehead, nose, and lips before he resumes his question.

• “would you like to wash in the sink or shower?”

• he bursts into a joyous laugh as you don’t hesitate to choose the shower.

• of course he was hoping you’d say that, but you shut down the idea because you just want to kill two birds with one stone, wrap this up, and cuddle in bed.

• he understands where you’re coming from and it’s no pressure at all. you both love when you two get down in the bedroom, but you share a common belief that spending quality time is the key to true intimacy.

• he takes your hand and leads you both to your shared bathroom.

• he puts his glasses on the sink, switches on the shower and checks for the perfect temperature that’s not too hot for your scalp, but not too cool for your body.

• you go to obtain large drying towels, african net wash cloths, and disposable shower caps. you then seek out the shampoo, conditioner, and detangling cream to nourish and clean your hair.

• you return to the bathroom with the items and clark gets your second opinion on the water temperature. you get a feel and let him know that it’s just right before you both strip of your clothes until you’re both completely naked. you make sure your engagement ring is placed in the velvet box it came in and set it on your drawer before you both step under the running water.

• clark reaches up to detach the shower head. before making a move, he asks if you need any further assistance in this step and you gladly accept, closing your eyes as he handles the shower head to pre-rinse both of your heads for a well deserved cleaning.

• as he puts the shower head back where it belongs, you let him know that you want to do the shampooing for both you and him.

• yep, clark uses your products on his hair!

• one time after your fifth date, he hugged you and his sensitive nose stealthily picked up on the natural, sweet, and intoxicating scent of the hair lotion that seeped into your scalp. he thought at first it was your perfume, which he loves too, but he was mistaken!

• “my god, you smell amazing.”

• clark takes you out to dinner and feeds your ego! okay, kal-el!

• he couldn’t get enough of it!

• this aroma— it was like something fresh and made from natural ingredients without any harsh chemicals.

• it reminds him of the homegrown warmth and love that his parents, jonathan and martha raised him up in back in smallville.

• if it wasn’t so soon (or the fact that he hasn’t told you his secret then), he would literally fly you out there in 10 minutes.

• when you moved in together, he would sometimes sneak a bit of your shampoo and conditioner in his hair routine once or twice a week until you finally caught up to him!

• you scolded clark a bit for using your products without permission because you would’ve let him use a little if he’d ask and plus, that stuff was expensive!

• he looked genuinely remorseful and apologized. “i’m sorry, (f/n). it was wrong of me to sneak like that, but i just wanted to use it because it’s like i’m taking a part of you with me everywhere i go. that way even though we’re apart, i don’t feel so alone in this universe anymore.”

• that almost had you crying and throwing up. he’s as big a simp for you as you are for him, so you couldn’t stay mad at him!

• you had an agreement to share or double up as long as you both are putting in for it.

• it was definitely no problem for clark because besides it’s sentimental value, it does wonders for his hair! it looks healthier, shinier and it feels softer compared to those 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner concoctions that he’s been using since high school.

• he loves your weekly beauty supply store excursions. he doesn’t care if the 6 items in your cart is $35, he’s paying for it all!

• clark’s aqua pupils observes from behind as you pour a generous amount of shampoo into your palm, rubbing the other against it, and massaging the bubbly, white substance through your scalp. your fingers work to make sure every single hair on your head is lathered in the coconut scented liquid and he notices that you’re careful not to tangle it.

• his own trance is broken by a “your turn! now lean down a bit, my love.” you’re now waiting for him to follow through, leaning his head down and forward to make his now drenched, dark hair right in your view and in your reach.

• he exhales at the contact of the cold shampoo descending on his scalp. as your fingers massage through his hair, his eyes close and a smile of ecstasy plays on his lips.

• your touch, the scent of the product, and the fact that if he opened his eyes again at this very moment, your breasts would be right in his face is clark’s idea of his personal heaven.

• you both take turns to rinse your own hair and each others to double check that all of the suds of the shampoo are gone.

• you repeat the process again, but this time it’s with conditioner. once that’s applied, you both put on the shower caps to let it rest and do its thing.

• you both use that time to talk some more and thoroughly clean your bodies of the filth of the work day using the african net wash clothes and aromatherapy body wash.

• after one last rinse of ya’lls hair, you cut the water off and grab the towels set out to wrap around your soaked bodies and dripping hair before walking to your shared bedroom.

• fortunately, you and clark have your own respective hair dryers, so that step doesn’t take too long before you take on the final boss: detangling.

• still clad in your towels, you and clark apply the detangling cream through your scalps. as he uses his comb to effortlessly rake through his noir mop, you just kind of stand and stare at the detangling brush in your hand.

• if you’re tender headed, you’ve probably lived the nightmare over and over with your heavy handed mother tugging the comb through the knotted ends, jolting your head and neck forward as you whined in pain. of course she got mad at you for that and said that it didn’t even hurt.

• you’re grown now! with your own bills, home, car, job, and man. there’s way more stressful things in the world than getting some knots out.

• you start the teeth of the comb from the root of your hair and hear the wet stickiness of the detangling cream as it glides to the end.

• okay, we’re getting somewhere! no pain or the pulling of knots for the next few strands near the front. now let’s start on the back. comb one, comb two, comb three—

• “ow, ugh!” you yelp. cringing as you hit a knot at the end.

“ woah! sweetheart, are you alright?”

• clark immediately halts his actions and puts his comb down. he takes one step behind you to examine the situation.

“please, lord, don’t tell me it’s tangled that bad.”

• you attempt to comb without breaking your hair out and the more you try, the more painful it gets. your arms and hands started to stiffen again.

• you lowkey wanted to cry because you just want this to be done and sleep peacefully in clark’s arms for the rest of the night.

• you immediately ask clark for help and he once again, comes to the rescue. he was gentle and comforting, but straightforward when it came to getting those knots.

• he talks you through it to make this a little easier.

• “i’m so sorry, honey. this is gonna hurt a bit, but we’re gonna knock these out and go straight to bed in no time, okay? i love you.” he kisses your temple before he proceeds with the task.

• several minutes of detangling are over! clark gets a second shower of kisses all over his face as you thank him again.

• you discard your towels and replace them with your nightclothes. clark’s shirtless with his sweats and you’re comfortable in another one of clark’s shirts with a fresh pair of cotton shorts.

• you put your hair in an afro puff ponytail and as always, you let your fiancé do the honors of placing your superman patterned bonnet on over your hair like a king crowning his queen.

• he looks at you with such pride and joy. seeing you happy feels so good it hurts. it makes him feel as weak as when he’s around green k. maybe even more.

• clark wouldn’t feel too comfortable to wrap his hair up just yet, so you suggested he uses a satin pillowcase instead.

• speaking of pillows, you look at the clock and realize it’s gotten late. you and clark shut off the lights and retire your exhausted bodies into your bed.

• you lay in a fetal position and turn to face him. kryptonians don’t usually need that much sleep as humans do, so you weren’t surprised that he was still awake.

• you both gaze and admire each other in comfortable silence. your hand reaching to his jaw. your brown toned fingertips caress the pale yet angelic face of the man you love. he closes his eyelids and leans into your warm touch.

• like a magnet, you drew closer to his face until your, full yearning lips rested on his. it doesn’t take him a second to melt into it, his hands clinging to your waist to rest your figure on top of his. your palms find themselves to rest on each side of his jawline.

• between each kiss, the moonlight illuminates the wide smiles you exchange to each other.

• after you two get your fill of each other’s affection, you lay your head on clark’s chest with his arms still acting as a shield around your back. he pecks your temple and is pulled in by the music of your steady heartbeat. he looks down to see your eyes pointed toward his and your hands folded flat on his chest.

• “thank you, clark. thank you so much for your help, your patience, your kindness, your love, and your compassion. not to mention that you are so fine, you still get me giggling like a schoolgirl at my big age! whether you’re superman, clark kent, or kal-el, i just thank you for being you. i love you, clark kent and that’ll never change.” your lips curve with a beaming smile.

• “(f/n), you need to know that everything i do, i do it for you and i’d do it again. you’re the most beautiful person and i’m not just talking about your stunning beauty. your heart is golden. despite everything that we’ve been through, it’s always been you. you understand me, you give me grace and hold me accountable, you still believe in me when i don’t even believe in myself. that’s how i knew i had to ask you to marry me, so i love you more, (f/n) kent and that’ll never change.”

• “look at us! we’ve only been engaged for a month and it sounds like we’re exchanging vows already.”

• “that sounds like a great start to me.”

• you both laugh and he gives you one last lingering kiss on your lips. your heads drop and your eyelids close before you take your peaceful slumber in each other’s presence.

390 notes · View notes

fanboyswhore9 · 3 months ago

Text

The Proposal (Pt.2)~ Sherlock Holmes

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill’s version) x Fem! reader

Contains: Henry Cavil, marriage of convenience, childhood lovers, long lost love, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Summary: After receiving the letter, Fem!reader’s family is reluctant about their sudden news for their engagement. And following their wedding day, where family and friends gather to witness their union. Despite Sherlock’s typical reluctance toward emotional expression, he delivers heartfelt vows, revealing how much she has meant to him all these years. The ceremony is intimate, emotional, and marks the beginning of a new chapter in their lives together as husband and wife.

A/N: HERE IS PT. 1 if you haven’t read it already.

A few months before the wedding, she sat nervously in her family’s parlor, her fingers intertwined with Sherlock’s beside her. The letter she had sent weeks ago was the reason for this tense gathering. Across from them sat her mother and father, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion. Her grandmother, ever sharp, was watching them carefully, while her sister stood by the window, quiet but clearly intrigued by what was about to unfold.

Her father broke the silence first, his voice firm but not unkind. “We’ve received your letter. This engagement to Sherlock Holmes—well, it was… unexpected, to say the least.” Her mother, eyebrows furrowed in concern, added, “You’ve barely seen him for years, and now you’re planning to marry? It feels so rushed, darling.”

Her heart pounded, knowing this would be a difficult conversation. She squeezed Sherlock’s hand under the table, feeling his steady presence beside her. He remained calm, his sharp eyes observing the room, ready to speak when necessary.

“I understand why this feels sudden,” she began, her voice steady despite the tension. “But Sherlock and I have always had a connection, even when we were apart. I know this may seem unconventional, but it’s right for us.” Her father leaned forward, his brow creased. “Sherlock is a brilliant man, but he’s not exactly known for being emotionally available. His work is his life. Can you really expect him to make room for a marriage?”

Before she could respond, Sherlock spoke up, his voice low and composed but tinged with conviction. “I understand your concerns, sir, and they are not unfounded. My work has been, and will continue to be, a significant part of my life. But I assure you, I am fully capable of making room for what is most important to me—and that is your daughter.”

Her father looked at him, eyebrows raised, but Sherlock didn’t waver. His hand tightened slightly around hers, a silent reassurance. “I know who Sherlock is,” she said, her voice firm. “I’ve seen sides of him most people don’t. He may seem detached, but he has a heart, and he’s willing to share that with me. We’ve talked about this, and I know what I’m getting into.”

Her mother sighed, exchanging a glance with her father. “We’re only worried because we want you to be happy. You deserve someone who can give you a stable life.” Sherlock shifted slightly, speaking before she could. “You’re right to want that for her, ma’am, but I don’t believe stability lies in a predictable life. I can’t promise an ordinary existence, but I can promise that I will care for her, respect her, and do everything in my power to make her happy.”

Her grandmother, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, her voice raspy but strong. “Love isn’t always about comfort and security. It’s about finding someone who makes your heart feel full, even if the road is rough.” Her sharp gaze shifted to Sherlock. “Tell me, young man, do you love her?” Sherlock met her grandmother’s eyes, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. He paused, considering his words carefully. “Yes. I do. More than I’ve been able to express properly. But I am trying, and I will continue to try, for her.”

A tear welled up in her eyes as she looked at him, and he glanced at her with a softness few people ever saw. Her sister, who had been standing by the window, finally spoke up, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s clear she’s thought this through. If Sherlock’s willing to step away from his cases long enough for a wedding, I’d say he’s serious.” She grinned. “Besides, how many people can say their sister’s marrying Sherlock Holmes?”

The tension in the room lightened slightly at her sister’s words, and her father sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re a grown woman, and if this is truly what you want, we won’t stand in your way.” Her mother nodded, though the worry still lingered in her eyes. “We just want to be sure you’ll be taken care of.” Sherlock, his tone gentle but resolute, said, “I will do everything in my power to ensure that she is.”

Her grandmother leaned forward, taking her hand with a surprisingly strong grip. “Then you have my blessing, dear. Just make sure this man understands how lucky he is to have you as his wife, my dear girl.” Sherlock gave a small, respectful nod. “I assure you, ma’am, I do.”

Her heart swelled with emotion, and she blinked back tears, squeezing her grandmother’s hand. “Thank you, grandmother. That means the world to me.” Her father stood, offering her a smile that was both proud and resigned. “Well, I suppose we should start preparing for a wedding, then.” Her mother sighed but smiled as well, standing to embrace her. “We’ll support you, no matter what.”

As her family began discussing the details of the upcoming wedding, she felt an immense weight lift from her shoulders. She had been prepared for a harder fight, but Sherlock’s presence and his words had made all the difference. With their blessing, she knew her future with Sherlock was not only possible—it was right.

When the conversation finally began to wind down, Sherlock gave her a small, almost imperceptible smile. She returned it, squeezing his hand again in silent gratitude. He had been there for her when she needed him most, and they had faced this challenge together. He hugged the woman, shook her father’s hand, and thanked everyone as they were getting ready to leave.

Later, as they left her family’s home, walking side by side, she couldn’t help but feel more certain than ever that this—they—were worth fighting for. And now, with her family’s support and Sherlock by her side, the life they were about to build together felt more real and more promising than ever.

~TIME SKIP~

The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of the bridal suite, casting soft light on the elegant folds of her ivory wedding dress. She stood before the full-length mirror, smoothing the delicate fabric with trembling hands. Today was the day—the day she never imagined would come, at least not like this.

Her mind wandered to Sherlock. What was he doing right now? Was he calm and composed, as always, or had some of the weight of the moment cracked through his famous veneer? She smiled at the thought. Sherlock Holmes, the brilliant detective who had captured her heart all those years ago, was about to become her husband.

A soft knock broke her thoughts. The door creaked open, revealing her sister, eyes wide with excitement. “You look incredible,” she whispered, stepping inside and carefully shutting the door behind her. She turned to face her younger sister, who grinned and pulled her into a quick hug. “I can’t believe it’s finally happening. You’re marrying him.” “Neither can I,” she replied with a soft laugh. “Are they all here?”

Her sister nodded. “Everyone’s downstairs waiting. Mom and Dad are practically buzzing, and Grandmother is more excited than I’ve ever seen her. Even Enola’s here, which was a surprise considering how much she avoids these kinds of things.”

Her heart swelled. It meant the world that her family, friends, and loved ones were here to witness this day. They had all been such an integral part of her life, but none more than Sherlock. Another knock came, this time more deliberate, and in stepped John Watson, his suit crisp and neat. He grinned as soon as he saw her. “You look amazing,” he said, his voice full of warmth.

“Thank you, John,” she replied with a soft smile. “How’s Sherlock?” John chuckled, shaking his head. “Nervous. He’s doing his best to hide it, but even Mycroft has commented on how much he’s been pacing. And you know Mycroft rarely mentions Sherlock’s emotions, so that’s saying something.”

The sisters both let out a giggles at John’s comment. The thought of Sherlock being anything other than composed seemed almost impossible, yet it comforted her to know that this day meant as much to him as it did to her. John stepped closer, offering his arm. “Ready to get married?” She nodded, taking a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The small chapel Sherlock had chosen was tucked away in a quiet corner of London, intimate and timeless, just the way he preferred. It was perfect—no grand spectacle, just close friends and family, gathered together for this long-awaited moment.

As she stepped into the chapel on John’s arm, she noticed the familiar faces seated in the pews. Her parents were seated near the front, her mother dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief while her father sat with a proud smile. Her sister sat beside them, beaming, with her grandmother, frail but glowing with happiness, gently patting her granddaughter’s hand.

Enola sat just behind them, her sharp, curious gaze locked on Sherlock with a knowing smirk. Beside her, Mycroft adjusted his pocket watch, his stoic demeanor betraying nothing, though his eyes flicked to her with a rare glint of approval. Even Irene Adler, ever the enigma, sat elegantly toward the back, her presence more a nod to Sherlock’s past than any overt support, though she offered a subtle nod as their eyes met.

But none of them compared to the sight of Sherlock waiting for her at the altar.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, standing tall with his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes immediately locking onto hers as soon as she entered the room. His usual detached demeanor was gone, replaced by a quiet intensity that made her heart race.

As John led her down the aisle, she felt the distance between her and Sherlock shrink, not just physically, but emotionally. The years they had spent apart, the unspoken words, the feelings long buried—all of it seemed to dissolve in the space between them.

When she finally reached him, Sherlock extended his hand, his grip warm and steady. For a moment, they stood there, eyes locked, the world around them fading into the background.

“You look beautiful,” Sherlock said softly, his voice rougher than usual, as if he had to force the words past his own nerves. “You clean up pretty well yourself,” she teased back, her voice shaky with emotion.

The officiant cleared his throat, beginning the ceremony, but neither she nor Sherlock seemed to hear much of it. Her gaze stayed locked on his, and for the first time in years, Sherlock’s guarded expression softened. The mask he so often wore in public had fallen away, leaving behind the man she had known as a boy—her Sherlock, the one who had always been there for her, even when she didn’t realize it.

“You may now exchange vows,” the officiant said, his voice cutting through the haze of emotions.

The soft light of the afternoon bathed the small chapel, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. She stood before Sherlock, her heart racing, her hands clasped in his. The world around them seemed to fade as they focused solely on each other, the gravity of the moment heavy in the air.

When the officiant turned to Sherlock for his vows, there was a brief pause. Everyone knew Sherlock Holmes as a man of intellect, logic, and few words. But here, in this moment, he was different—vulnerable, open in a way that only those closest to him had ever seen. And for her, he would make an exception.

Sherlock took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he held her hands gently in his. For a second, he hesitated, searching for the right words. Then, in a voice soft yet steady, he began.

“From the moment we met as children, you’ve always seen me for who I am—no illusions, no façades. You never tried to change me, though, heaven knows, I probably could have used some change,” he said with a small, self-deprecating smile. The crowd chuckled softly, but his focus remained solely on her. “You challenged me in ways no one else ever has, or ever could. You were the only one who truly understood me, even when I didn’t understand myself. And when you left for boarding school… I told myself it didn’t matter. That I didn’t care. But it did matter. It mattered more than I could ever admit, even to myself.”

Sherlock paused, his eyes softening, emotion flickering in their depths. “I spent years pretending that what we had was in the past, something forgotten. But no matter how many mysteries I solved, no matter how many cases I took on, there was always something missing. You.” His voice wavered slightly, and he cleared his throat, regaining his composure.

“You were always there, in the back of my mind. And now, standing here with you, I realize that you’ve been the most important mystery of my life—one I don’t ever want to solve, because being with you is the answer.”

Her breath hitched, her heart swelling at his words. Sherlock took another breath, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m not perfect. Far from it. I’ll frustrate you, and I’ll be distant at times, and I might lose myself in my work, but I promise you this: I will never stop trying to be better for you. I will stand by your side, not as the detective or the man of logic, but as someone who loves you—deeply, and without question. You are my equal, my partner, and my heart. And I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you were never a second thought.”

For a moment, the chapel was silent. Sherlock’s vows, though longer than anyone would have expected, were filled with an honesty that cut through the quiet.

She swallowed hard, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. It was her turn, but it took her a moment to compose herself, her heart so full she could barely speak. When she finally did, her voice was soft. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, and when she spoke, her voice was steady but full of emotion, her eyes never leaving Sherlock’s.

“Sherlock, from the moment we met as children, I knew you were different. You were always the smartest person in the room, but what mattered most to me wasn’t your mind—it was your heart, even if you never let anyone see it. You’ve always been more than the man of logic and reason people think you are. You’ve been my friend, my confidant, and the person I’ve trusted more than anyone else in this world.”

She paused, her hands tightening around his. “When I left for boarding school, I thought I was leaving behind that part of my life, but not a day went by when I didn’t think of you. I told myself that it was just nostalgia, that maybe I was imagining the connection we had. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t just in my head. I missed you—not just the boy I grew up with, but the man I knew you were becoming.”

Her voice softened, and a tear escaped down her cheek, though her smile never wavered. “Sherlock, you once told me that sentiment was a chemical defect found in the losing side. But standing here now, I can tell you that sentiment is not a defect. It’s what has kept us tied together, no matter how far apart we were. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, even when I was too afraid to admit it. I love your mind, your brilliance, and your stubbornness, but most of all, I love the man you are when no one else is looking.”

She took a moment, her voice becoming more firm as she continued. “I don’t need grand gestures or flowery words. What I need is you. I need your partnership, your trust, your companionship, and your heart. And I promise that I will give you mine, without reservation. I will stand by you, even when you push me away, because I know that what we have is real, and it’s worth fighting for.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “I will love you, not because of who you are to the world, but because of who you are to me. I’ll be your equal, your partner, and your home. No matter what challenges we face, no matter what mysteries we solve together, I will always come back to you. Because you, Sherlock Holmes, are the one constant I’ve had in my life. And I promise to love you for the rest of mine.”

The room was silent, the air thick with emotion. For a moment, it felt as though the world had stopped, as if nothing existed outside the space between them. Sherlock’s eyes softened in a way they rarely did, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The officiant, slightly overwhelmed by the weight of their words, cleared his throat and continued with the ceremony, though it felt like a formality at this point. When the words finally came—“You may kiss the bride”—Sherlock didn’t hesitate.

He pulled her gently into his arms, his hands cradling her face as he pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t rushed or fleeting; it was a kiss filled with the years of longing, the unspoken words, and the deep love they had both carried in their hearts for so long. Her hands found his shoulders, holding him close, and the world around them seemed to disappear.

When they finally pulled apart, the room erupted into soft applause. Her family smiled through tears, and John looked at Sherlock with a mixture of pride and amusement. Mycroft gave a small nod of approval, while Enola, though trying to remain composed, couldn’t hide the smirk on her face. Even Irene Adler, watching from the back, offered a quiet, knowing smile.

As they turned to face the small crowd, Sherlock’s hand found hers, squeezing gently. They walked down the aisle together, side by side, hand in hand, ready to face whatever came next. For the first time in both of their lives, they weren’t just solving a mystery—they were building a life, together.

And as they stepped out into the world as husband and wife, Sherlock leaned in, his voice a quiet murmur only she could hear. “Mrs. Holmes,” he whispered, a rare warmth in his tone, “this is the one mystery I’m happy will never be solved.” She smiled, her heart full, and whispered back, “Neither will I, Mr. Holmes. Neither will I.”

#fuck hes so hot #henry cavill #sherlock x reader #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fandom #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes henry cavill #enola holmes #i love them #i want him #i love him #i love it

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henry-cavs-tudor · 9 months ago

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I LUV this, it’s so sweet!🥺💖

OMG U HAVE CAVILL!READER YES!!

how do you think she would be?

i think she'd be sooooo shy. like as a toddler she wouldn't talk to anyone and it took her years to be able to actually talk to someone who isn't her dad or grandma.

i also think shes soooo smart, like im talking valedictorian smart. i can honestly imagine her tutoring people to help get her out of her comfort zone but also just be able to help people.

speaking of, i think that she's SUCH a sweetheart, like if she find out someone she likes is having a hard time, she'll drop everything just to make sure they're ok.

and for something super random about her (since it's not a post made by me if there's not a totally random hc somewhere in there), i think she's got amazing fashion taste. like she won't leave her house without having an incredible outfit on. i can honeslty see her getting teased for it, something along the lines of "stop trying to impress everyone" (although we all know anyone who dares say something mean to this angel is just incredibly jealous of her) but it's clear that she dresses up for herself and herself only.

also, i feel like that once you're able to get past her shyness and get to know the real her, you'd find out that she's got SO many cool stories of the places she's traveled with dad and just in general.

and this next part may be a little controversial but shes a cat person (and that's coming from a dog person). i guess i can just see her wanting a chill cat more than a hyper dog. however that does not mean at ALL that she doesn't adore her own dog, and she loves dogs too it's just i think she'd slightly prefer cats.

this is another completely just random idea of mine but i think she likes mint ice cream... don't ask me why i see that because i don't even know the answer to that but it just feels right.

#henry cavill x daughter!reader #cavill!reader #sophie answers ⚡️#henry cavill

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drewharrisonwriter · 1 year ago

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Donor Part 4 (Final)

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, this is it... the last part of Donor. English is not my first language.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

“Oh…” A gasp escaped your lips, your hand instinctively covering your mouth as shock settled in. Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at all three positive pregnancy tests resting on the bathroom counter. A silent rush of emotions flooded over you, causing your hands to tremble in disbelief as you picked one up. The cool, marbled counter became your anchor as your legs threatened to give way beneath you.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you attempted to compose yourself. With the sleeves of your sweater, you wiped away the tears that had started to flow and went out the bathroom with one of the tests to look for Henry. Your heart is racing and your mind feels like it’s about to turn into mush, you should be happy about this, why are you so nervous?

The voices drifted from the kitchen as you reached the landing of the staircase. Passing through the living room, you moved under the archway that led to the dining area. And there stood Henry in an old and faded gray t-shirt and jeans, hands submerged in soapy water, gently tending to your 7-month-old daughter, Vivienne. The kitchen told a tale of joyful chaos—baby food scattered about, unfinished waffles sitting on the kitchen island, and blueberries on the floor.

“Mama!” A joyful squeal from your 4 year old daughter, Marianna, or Mari as you fondly call her, greeted you as she caught sight of you at the kitchen's entrance, her little sister, two year old Serena (Sisi), mimicking her with a wave.

“We cwean the house fow you!” Sisi's prideful proclamation filled the room, her adorable voice resonating with accomplishment. A soft smile adorned your lips as you warmly acknowledged your young helpers. Under your breath, you praised, “Great job, babies.”

Henry turned around with a beaming smile on his face, his laughter still echoing from moments earlier when your 7-month-old daughter had been gleefully causing a watery mess in the kitchen.

“Hey, darling, how are you feeling?” he asked, his smile tinged with a touch more concern. He gently scooped up the baby, wrapping her in a towel and patting her dry.

Your throat tightened, and your eyes brimmed with tears once more. As though Henry sensed the impending news, he shook his head in disbelief, a chuckle escaping him. "No, no way…" he muttered, his grin so expansive you thought his face might rip in half.

“Hank…” you began, your voice trembling. You trailed off, the weight of emotions overtaking you, and you broke into sobs.

“Oh no!” Mari exclaimed, getting up from the floor to hug your leg. “It’s okay, mama.” She said softly, rubbing a hand up and down your leg, and you managed to chuckle a little, running a hand through her dark curls to show your appreciation. Sisi, the ever clone of her older sister, did the same.

He moved closer, his voice soothing and warm. “Oh, no, no, no, darling. Don’t cry, just tell me,” he cooed, placing the baby in her high chair and wiping his hands on his trousers as he walked toward you and the girls, enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated between sobs, but he shushed you gently and the girls went back to picking up blueberries from the floor.

Henry knew.

Of course he does. He knows you so well, and you’ve been feeling sick and losing appetite the past few weeks, plus your period came in really light earlier in the month. You have been so sensitive to touch and have been feeling sluggish and sleepy.

But the icing on the cake happened the other night where you cried watching a wildlife commercial where a bird was swallowed by an alligator and Henry fought back so hard not to laugh but failed, miserably, exploding in a fit of laughter which got you even more riled up, throwing pillows at him. You both had been through this three times before, with the last one not being that long ago, he knew the signs so well by now.

He had playfully suggested you take a pregnancy test before seeing your doctor, those mischievous eyebrows of his wiggling with a teasing twinkle in his eyes. You had brushed it off, convinced it was too soon and impossible.

Yet, here you were, holding one of the three positive tests in your hand. His response was laughter, a joyful sound that blended with the soft kisses he planted on your tear-streaked face.

“I told you so!” he teased, his laughter mixing with your sobs.

Through your tears, you irritatingly asked him, “How do you find this so amusing? Vivi is only 7 months old. How are we ever going to manage?”

Henry's laughter lingered, accompanied by the cheerful chatter of his other daughters in the backdrop. In that moment, his heart felt as though it might burst from the sheer joy of the moment.

“It’s alright, darling, don’t cry,” he cooed, wiping the tears on your cheeks with his thumb.

“You’re not upset?” you were surprised by his unwavering calm in contrast to your own turbulent emotions. “Or scared?”

He chuckled, his affectionate response carrying the weight of his feelings. “First of all, I could never be upset about having more babies with you. And no, we've been through this before. You're giving me another child, for god's sake, nothing can make me happier than that.” He sealed his words with a lingering kiss pressed to your forehead.

Despite his reassurances, your fears lingered. “I’m so scared.” You admitted, “And I feel like we're not being fair to Vivi.” Your gaze drifted to your 7-month-old daughter, snugly wrapped in a soft, yellow chick towel. She sat there contentedly, fingers in her mouth, her wide blue eyes taking in the world. A cascade of curly brown hair framed her face from under the chick hoodie, still holding onto droplets of bathwater.

Henry's voice carried a reassuring tenderness. “It’s going to be alright, darling. I'm always here for you, you know that….”

You were well aware of that. For over two decades, Henry had consistently shown what an incredible best friend he could be — his generosity and love knew no bounds. However, all of that paled in comparison to the depth of his role as your husband and the father of your children.

Henry then leaned in and whispered so the kids won’t hear, “You know how much I love it when you’re pregnant, right?” You let out a brief chuckle as he nuzzled his nose against your earlobe and you buried your face in his chest, muffling your voice as you exclaimed, "Ugh, Haaaaank... how did we end up here?"

Your words were absorbed by his chest, and he couldn't help but burst into laughter once again. He gently pulled away and turned his attention to the little girls who were now devouring the blueberries they were meant to clean up from the floor.

"Guess what, my lovely princesses. You're going to have another baby sister!" Henry's excitement filled the room, while you responded with a groan. The girls cheered, their joyful leaps reflecting the news.

"How can you be so certain it'll be another girl?" You posed the question to him.

"Well, given the pattern we've got going, isn't it a safe bet at this point?" His smile conveyed his playful confidence and you only shook your head in disbelief.

Eight years have passed since you and Hank began clinically trying for a baby – as best friends. Seven years since you tied the knot, wasting no time to start your lives together just months after the events of Charlie's birthday. You spent your honeymoon in Amalfi, and bought a farmhouse outside of London, big enough for the big family you were planning.

But while your relationship and its changes flowed smoothly, your attempts to conceive were still not as easy. It took nearly two more years before Marianna was conceived naturally.

After over a year of trying, you and Henry considered going through another round of IUI, hoping that it would not lead you to the IVF path. But an accident during the final show of your tour sent you to the ER right after the last number. The standard blood work results brought an unexpected surprise – a positive pregnancy test – leaving you momentarily breathless.

Henry was overseas with Kal doing reshoots for a film he did the previous year and won’t be back for another month. You were itching to call him right then and there and tell him but you decided it’s best if you do it in person, and so you wait.

When he got back a month later, Kal immediately made a beeline for you, his tail wagged furiously as he bounded toward you, showering you with affectionate licks and nuzzles. You couldn't help but laugh, feeling his excitement to be home and to see you.

Henry smiled warmly as he entered the foyer of your home, watching the scene unfold. "Looks like someone really missed you," he remarked.

"Well, I missed him, too." You said in a special voice that you only use with the pets, cupping Kal's head in your hands.

Henry grinned widely, and asked, "And me? Did you miss me, too?" You snorted, standing up and you nodded your head in response.

You embraced him, your arms circling his neck as he drew you in for a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. Henry's voice held a hint of longing as he whispered, "I missed you so much." You echoed his sentiment.

You settled on the couch where almost immediately, your fat cats, Tuna and Luna, jumped on you in their ever so softly feline way and began settling on your lap where they softly purred in contentment.

Henry cocked an eyebrow and looked at you, “That’s new.” He remarked, knowing so well that the cats would rather lay down on burning coals than curl up with any humans. You only shook your head with a smile, gently stroking the cats who are now settling into a nap.

“I suppose when we go outside by the barn, the birds will perch on your shoulders and our chickens will begin to sing?” He joked and you let out a loud laugh.

“Shut up, you watch far too many Disney films. How was L.A.?” You asked him, trying your best to buy yourself time before breaking the news to him. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, and he picked up on it when he noticed you were chewing your bottom lip as he spoke.

“You're nervous." He stated, "What’s going on, Snow White?”

You giggled nervously, your heart skipped a beat at his words. There was no avoiding it now. You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze with a mixture of emotions.

"Hank," you began, your voice wavering slightly, "there's something I need to tell you."

“Please don’t tell me you’re going away…” His tone dripped with a hint of heartbreak, his brows furrowing at the thought of you leaving and doing long distance again. As you hesitated, he sank back into the couch, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose in a gesture of frustration. "I just got home, darling. I was hoping we could at least spend some time together aft–"

You cut him off right then, “Hank, I’m pregnant.”

His eyes shot open, his fingers still at the bridge of his nose, frozen as he processed the news. "What?" he murmured, his expression shifting from confusion to a slow, dawning smile as the news began to sink in. You repeated the words, and he shook his head in disbelief, a grin stretching across his face so widely that you half expected it to split in two.

“We’re having a baby!” He exclaimed pulling you in a tight embrace, peppering your face with small kisses and then he began sniffling.

Henry-Fucking-Superman-Cavill is crying at the news of your pregnancy.

He did the same at the first one, and again when you got pregnant with Sisi and Vivi.

And now, with baby number 4 on the way, he's just as emotional as ever.

The kids have settled in for their mid-day nap, and with the kitchen now tidy, you and Henry find yourselves sprawled out on the couch. You rest against his chest, his hand gently on your stomach, tracing soothing circles, his breath is hot and wet on your neck.

“I can’t believe we’re having another baby this soon,” You said, reaching back to run your fingers on his curls to soothe him.

“Sometimes, I don’t believe that we are living the life we have now.” he choked on his words. "I've always wanted this with you, and all those years, it seemed like a dream."

His confession, though all too familiar from the countless times he’s said it over the years, still tugged at your heartstrings, and you smiled in response.

"It's funny, because you were very reluctant to donate sperm in the first place. I literally had to beg you." you teased, a chuckle escaping your lips, followed by his own laughter.

"But I'm so glad you did, though... Look at what we have now, three beautiful princesses and another princess on the way," Henry chimed in, his laughter laced with pride.

"Stop saying it’s going to be another girl, you might be disappointed. Remember how you were convinced Vivi was a boy?" you playfully retorted.

"Disappointed?" He chuckled in disbelief. "Impossible. Doesn't matter if I'm wrong or right about this one," He splayed his hand on your stomach that's still soft from your last pregnancy and now housing another growing life. "You’re my children’s mother. That’s what matters the most." he kissed you on the temple as he gently pulled you in closer to him.

You hummed, “Thank you for agreeing to be a donor.” You laughed together.

Funny how things turned out after one silly decision that sprouted from an even sillier dream. If anyone had told you eight years ago that your life would unfold so beautifully, you'd have likely chuckled, maybe even taken a long sip from a pint of beer and wondered how it could possibly happen when all that ever happened to you up until that point is to find dead-ends in every relationship you’ve ever been in.

You had at least made bank from the sad songs you’ve written about those relationships over the years. Something that Henry would often joke about or even sing just to annoy you, and those times you often find yourself pondering on what could have been, even more.

If you hadn't mustered the courage to ask Henry to help you pursue your dream of becoming a mother, the path you tread might have taken a different turn. For all you know, you could be still touring at this moment, singing sad songs after sad songs, and not nestled in the arms of the love of your life, with your little dreams sleeping in their bedrooms upstairs in the house that you and Henry have made a home.

All of these twists and turns coalesced to lead you to this very moment.

And despite all that you both went through, you wouldn't change a thing. Even if it took nearly 20 years for the both of you to pave your way into the path that you're in now.

"I love you, Hank," you whispered.

"I love you more, darling." he whispered back, “Always.”

Tag list:

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#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x little!reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x plus size reader #henry cavill x pregnant reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x short!reader #henry cavill x wife!reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill characters #henry cavill imagine

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justjams2003 · 2 years ago

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Cuddles for Breakfast

Happy father’s day, and to all those without fathers I hope you make the best of this day. This is here for a little celebration!

Pairing: Henry Cavill x wife!reader

Summary: You and your daughter surprise Henry for father’s day.

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Word count: 562

Her name is Sophia, it seemed so obvious when you held her in your hands for the first time. Henry agreed instantly. It was just something in her violently curly black hair and a button nose that just screamed Sophia. And before you knew she’s already three years old.

She’s grown up to be a confident little girl. Like said, she has Henry’s unruly black curls and his intense blue eyes. But your husband swears up and down that she has your attitude. A sharp tongue and even wiser than anyone outside your family would know.

“How do you feel, pretty girl?” You ask, watching as she analysis the hairdo you had done for her. “It’s perfect, Mommy.” Her eyes shine bright and she flashes you a smile directly stolen from your husband. You can’t help yourself and pepper kisses all over her little face. Watching her little button nose scrunch up.

A giggle pours out of the bathroom before you press your finger against your lip. “Shh, my smart girl, you’re gonna’ wake Papa up.” You wink at her as her eyes grow big and she shakes her head. Then you scoop her up and place her on your hip.

“Are you going to carry the presents, while Moma brings the food?” You explain, watching when you put her down and she pets Kal, who absolutely adores her. She mumbles an agreement and grabs the present. She scolds ever so slightly when he almost makes her trip.

You give her the go-ahead when you finally reach the bedroom. Both of you seem to stop and admire him sleeping so peacefully. His broad form takes up most of the bed. His chest rise and fall and his own curls splayed across his cushion and forehead.

That is quickly interrupted by Soph running and jumping on the bed. “Papa, papa! Wake up, wake up!” She screams with glee, seeing out so much to this. Since you told her what you were planning, she’s been ‘planning’ with you.

Now, finally, that the time has come she is just bouncing with excitement. Henry’s blue eyes snap open, thinking the worst before seeing his little girl beam down at him. His hands reach up and grab her, also peppering her with kisses.

“Good morning, my two most special girls.” He beams at you, gently grabbing your arm after you place the breakfast tray in his lap. Placing affable kissing on your wrist. “And why am I being so spoiled this morning?” He asks little Sophia, pulling her close into his side.

“Happy Father’s Day, papa!” she grins handing him her present package. He can already feel the tears forming. He never thought that this would happen. That he would be in such a position to have two of his own beautiful girls pampering him.

“Really?” He canvases your facial expression, still struggling to believe that this is his life. “Yes, papa. Open your present.” His little girl answers for you and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to say no. He does as instructed, cooing and praising Sophia for her many Father’s Day paintings and drawings, all covered with glitter of course.

Then he pulls out the new Warhammer painting set, limited edition, you got him and a fancy bottle of decades-old Bourbon. And after that, he shares his breakfast and cuddles his girls close.

#henry cavill #henry cavill dad #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill drabble #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x wife!reader #dad!henry cavill #dad!henry cavill x reader

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ellieslittleburrow · 7 months ago

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Summary : Geralt wants to help you. You don't want his help.

Warnings : A father caring for his child.

A/N : Your name is Rivvie/Raven. It's genderneutral and i chose it for you!!!!! Took me a while to come up with it so shush

----

Steps pierced your ears as they stormed closer to your aching stiff body.. You shrunk in fear, retreating into yourself, unsure of who it was or what they were going to do to you. But when a familiar silhouette emerged from the trees-

"Geralt..." Your body unconsciously jolted up to a sitting position. It hurt, but you lifted your head up anyway. "I'm..I'm okay." You huffed, swallowing the pool of blood that coated the borders of your lips. You straightened your back, attempting to look as composed as you could. But the browns and reds smeared across your face proved otherwise.

The man who stood before you extended his hand out to you, his eyes piercing through to your soul. But when you didn't comply, anger contorted his features and he sucked his lips inwards in a refraining manner. "Get up."

You hesistantly took his hand, wincing as he pulled you up to your feet, but you didn't have to react before the latters betrayed you, ending up in a loss of balance and a striking pain starting at your knees and traveling all the way up to the rest of your body. Thankfully, Geralt's quick reflexes saved you from fully hitting the ground. As you were falling, he crouched and wrapped his hands around your waist., holding your upper body close to him before forcing you up again.

"No!" You yanked yourself from your father figure, a confident frown on your face. "I can walk on my own..." The words struggle to leave your throat. Geralt sighed.

"Come on, chil-"

"I'm not a fucking child Geralt." You instinctively pressed your hand against the tree your back has been hugging throughout the whole ordeal. "i can take care of myself. I don't n-"

"Yes you do."

You winced at the sudden rage that filled his voice. Through gritted teeth, he continued. "You do need me- Look at you, you can barely stand-"

"Don't yell at me." But despite the fear that washed your body cold, you yelled back in response. You don't need his help. You can defend yourself. He reached for your hand but you slapped it away with more force than intended. You are not a child.

Or maybe...You are because the witcher's features contorted even more, his eyes darkening subsequently-You discreetly leaned away, shrinking slightly more.

"Then you shall stop acting like one..." The words raged out of his lips. "Look at you, all bruised up and refusing help. You know i don't mean you any harm, i just don't want you to get hurt." The veins on his neck growing more prominent.

You....You did know that, but you didn't care. He won't be there forever. "I can take care of myself." You insisted, turning on your heels.

You head for the forest, the direction home may have been unknown to you, but senses work in a magical way, making it so that you never needed to know. You just felt.

You limped through the forest, passing by clusters of fallen logs and traps, steadying yourself whenever you could reach a tree. You'd gladly rather die there than ask for help from Geralt, who lazily but firmly marched behind you.

He called your name a few times. Even yelled. But you were persistant this time. He will not make you apologize. You weren't sorry. You needed to prove to him-that you did not need his help.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?" The witcher spoke again and unconsciously, your head almost twisted over your shoulder.

Aren't you allowed to be angry?

"That's not the behaviour of a grown individual, Rivvie." Geralt's voice dripped with provocation, firing up your aching body into a hot boil. But you still didn't ans-

"That's enough, Raven." A sudden authoritary growl thundered through the forest. "I just want to help you. And i'm not asking." Before you had the time to protest, your feet were swept off the ground and you found yourself nailed to Geralt's chest.

An awkward position for you to jerk your body, he wouldn't have dropped you, you'd just jolted and thrown your body up and down in vain. Geralt's strong. His arms alone wrapped around you so tightly you'd actually feel claustophobic. You would if it were somebody else's arms. But...Geralt's your...safe haven. You just don't want him to know that.

You huffed, growling as you turn your head away from him, burying your chin into the acromion shaping his shoulders. "I don't need your help." You groaned, stressing your words in an attempt to sound...more stern.

But Geralt simply grunted a cold and blank "Okay." causing you to uncomfortably shift in his embrace. He lifted you up a bit to adjust your body, causing a ached whimper to leave your lips. "Sorry.."

"I..." You start but....maybe you shouldnt push it? After all, he really just wants you to be okay. "It's okay..." You readjust your head back to your frontal view, eyeing Geralt, whose face was only inches away from your own.

"T-thank you.." You hide your face into your chest, unable to furthur embarass yourself.

Geralt stayed quiet for a moment, but then he grunted, a silent "you're welcome" you're familiar enough with.

With that, you rested your head on his chest, finally accepting the situation. You gripped his shirt as softly as you could and closed your eyes. Maybe having them there wasns't so bad after all.

-----

I read somewhere that most *readers* are white-fied. And it just opened my eyes. I hope this does indeed include all and everyone. I hope this was pleasant to read for all of you guys, comments are much appreciated. See ya in the next one! ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

#the witcher fic #father figure fic #father fic #father figure #father x daughter #daughter!reader #adoptive father troop #the witcher x daughter #henry cavill x daughter #geralt x daughter!reader #geralt x daughter #father geralt #henry cavil x daughter #henry cavill x sister #platonic!reader #daughter x father #sibling fic #sister!reader #protective siblings

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somethinginthewayiam · 2 years ago

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Masterlist

last updated on 11/19/2024

Bold stories or chapters are SMUT/NSFW

Jake Hangman Seresin (Top Gun Maverick)

The girl behind the bar (Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4.1

Part 4.2

Part 5.1

Part 5.2

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

The girl behind the bar : the date (Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader)

Part 1 - the restaurant

Part 2 - the bar

Part 3 - the apartment (1/2)

Part 3 - the apartment (2/2)

Hangman's shift at the Hard Deck

Epoliogue

Chibs Telford (Sons of Anarchy)

Chibs x plus-size reader (18+ throught, minors DNI!!)

A new job

Boys will be boys

Party at the clubhouse

Late night

Aftermath

Dress-up

Dress down

Car troubles

Part of the business

Better offer

Lockdown

A New Home

Maybe baby

Oh so horrible

Redwoody Productions

Wrong number

Henry Cavill Masterlist

Sebastian Stan

Sebastian x Anna (OFC) Series

Nightcap

The universe can be a bitch Part 1 Part 2

What happens in New York… Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Requests

Morning kisses (Ben Hardy fluff)

Imagines

You win an Oscar (Ben Hardy fluff)

Joe’s daughter (Joe Mazzello fluff)

BoRap Cast

Unexpectedly expecting (Ben Hardy x reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 (unfinished)

Prove it to me (Ben Hardy x plus-size reader)

My new favorite t-shirt (Ben Hardy x plus-size reader)

PRESSing matters (Ben Hardy x reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

At the BAFTAs after party (main story)

- Gwil Part

- Joe Part

- Ben Part

Alex Hogh Andersen

Temporary Roommate (Alex x Reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Hvitserk

The gift (Hvitserk x OC x Magrethe)

My AO3 account

#masterlist #henry cavill #chibs telford #ben hardy #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #alex hogh andersen #bohemian rhapsody #vikings #sons of anarchy #glen powell #jake hangman seresin

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 6 months ago

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HOTD OC Introduction

(world's biggest thanks to @ginevrastilinski-ocs for dealing with me being very annoying and helping me figure this all out)

1 – Saera Targaryen ( Elle Fanning ): Aemond ship, Rhaenyra & Daemon’s daughter from the night Rhaenyra snuck out – very scandalous, very secretive, but the implications of her being the child of two potential heirs is a big deal to those who know

2 – Carlys Tully ( Charlotte Hope ) in Death By A Thousand Cuts: Aegon ship, toxic heartbreak but also she is/was in love, he claimed her as his wife and she never had a say, little miss "I can fix him (no really I can)" to queen "i can fix him (whoa maybe i can't)"

3 – Lyria Hightower ( Millie Bobby Brown & Synnove Karlsen ): Alicent’s twin sister

4 – Dorian Tyrell ( Timothee Chalamet): Alicent ship, second son of House Tyrell, recently became a knight, is there when Alicent wears the green dress at the wedding feast and is just immediately so devoted and knows he would die for her, asks Alicent’s permission to serve as her personal guard and has been by her side ever since

5 – Vysenia Targaryen ( Freya Allen & Morfydd Clark ): Rhaenyra’s younger twin, loyal to her sister but also has been in love with Alicent since they were children

6 – Cyrissa Cole ( Summer Bishil ): Criston Cole’s younger sister, ends up involved in things when Criston becomes a member of the Kingsguard but will probably have her own plot in Dorne too

7 – Vaella Targaryen ( Suki Waterhouse ): Alicent’s daughter, Aemond takes her as his bride because Targaryen tradition but is a very absent husband (at least at first), holds her at arms length and she is desperate for his affection

8 – Daessa Velaryon ( Millie Brady ): Rhaenyra’s daughter, the eldest of her children with Harwin Strong, has long since figured out who her real father is but won't say anything. If Rhaenyra is queen then she is heir to the throne, and she won't sacrifice that just for the "truth"

9 – Ayron Targaryen & Rhaella Targaryen ( Henry Cavill x Jodie Comer ): Ayron is Viserys & Daemon’s middle brother, technically heir until Viserys names Rhaenyra as his heir. Rhaella is Rhaenys’ younger sister, thinks her sister should have been queen, they are a ship and both just trying to survive the war

#new oc #new idea #house of the dragon oc #saera targaryen #carlys tully #lyria hightower #dorian tyrell #vysenia targaryen #cryssia cole #vaella targaryen #daessa velaryon #ayron targaryen #rhaella targaryen #... rip now i have another masterlist to make #(i spent too much time on faceclaim directories my brain is sad)#(also pls ignore that i've used four of these faces in got)

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two-white-butterflies · 2 years ago

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Taco Truck x VB | O. Hightower

Description: Otto Hightower begins dating Viserys Targaryen's youngest daughter. Social media goes crazy because of the age-gap. Pairing: COO!otto hightower/actress-socialite!reader

"Is there a man in your life?" James Corden raises an eyebrow, and the entire audience erupts into laughter. "I mean - it would be weird if I didn't have a man in my life, because how would I be born?" you try to change to topic, but your friend was already suspicious.

"Okay for the record, Henry Cavill is hot?" he asked, and you laugh nervously. Otto was most definitely watching from home. "He's a respectable man, and I'm sure that he treats ladies properly, but personally I think he's too young for me." you shrug, and a sarcastic chuckle escapes the host's mouth.

"Okay," he rolled his eyes and the audience laughs again.

"Now let's move into your new movie with Cate Blanchett,"

(your name)arryn-targaryen: 💚

2,678 comments 971,238 likes

gigihadid: 💚 Hightower_Gwaynie: welcome to the family 💪🏽💚 user12: the green hearts are throwing me off guard

Y/N ARRYN-TARGARYEN, WHO COULD BE HER NEW BOYFRIEND?

The socialite and actress is known for her small indie films in Hollywood, mostly gaining critical acclaim but 'flopping' in box-office. Now, her fans can't stop speculating the identity of her new boyfriend.

Well, here is what we know:

In a cryptic post in instagram, she used a green heart and her friends retaliated with posting the same color. Green is the signature color of 'House Hightower', a family that used to be prominent in Italy during the Renaissance Period. The family comes from a line of bankers that used to dominate medieval Europe.

The patriarch, Otto Hightower, has three sons: Hobert, Toto, and Gwayne.

The actress is yet to confirm the relationship with one of the three.

It was nice being in America, since no one knew about your family. They were all treating you like shit, but that was okay.

"Sometimes I walk around museums and think that these artifacts shouldn't be here," you mused, taking a lazy sip of your espresso.

Otto had the entire museum closed just so you could walk around without fear of the media. It was sweet, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you - you were used to luxury.

"Buy it and give them back." he replied, holding your other hand tightly. Smiling while his cold palms were defrosted by your warm ones. He had doubts about the relationship - figured that he was too old to be your boyfriend, but you assured him.

This was what you wanted - and there was nothing wrong with it.

"I guess," you hum - walking past the Asia section.

arryn.family.updates: Y/N Arryn-Targaryen (Aemma's daughter) with Otto Hightower.

167 comments 200 likes

fabyrtestar: The power she holds, if they get married her last name is literally gonna be Y/N Targaryen-Hightower antonio_fuoci2: She's so lana del rey vinyl

OTTO HIGHTOWER DENIES BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH BOSS' YOUNGEST DAUGHTER.

"She's a nice girl, but we're not [uhh] together. Honestly, when you're at this age - all you worry about is work and making work better. I mean the new Targaryen 291 Adventure Edition is a wonderful car for a family, and we've been working on it for the past decade now - to make sure that everything is fine and safe."

Y/N ARRYN-TARGARYEN DENIES BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH OLDER MAN.

"I don't think that the rumors should be taken as truth, I've spoken to Otto a few times and it's all business between us - he's my father's COO. I haven't been out actually, I was really shocked when the rumors came out. I've been so busy on my film with A24, and processing the Arryn Hotel Chain, [super] busy."

(5 years later)

(your name)arryn-targaryen: look at him. i'd die for him. i'd kill for him, but either way what bliss?

pictures for our wedding in may.

future mrs. hightower

credits to @jace_strong_photography

34,238 comments 244,779 likes

RhaenyraArryn-Targaryen: Congratulations dear! leaving the nest already, even though you swore to be here til 30. 😊 - (your name)arryn-targaryen: I didn't pinky swear 🤷🏻‍♀️

benjamineur29: IT'S ALL BUSINESS BETWEEN US 😭😭 bitch u lied

#otto hightower x reader #otto hightower #social media alternative universe

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lynette-m-roses · 1 year ago

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Love's Legacy: Henry Cavill x Reader

Note: This story contains sensitive and emotional subject matter. Please proceed with caution.

---

The room was filled with a heavy silence as Henry, with a sense of both anticipation and grief, held the letter that you had left behind. The pain of losing you while giving birth to your daughter was still fresh, and Henry's heart ached for the love he had lost. With trembling hands, he opened the letter, prepared to read your final words.

As he began to read the delicate script, tears welled up in his eyes, blurring the words that carried your essence.

"My Dearest Henry,

If you are reading this letter, it means that fate has dealt us a cruel hand, and I am no longer beside you. My heart aches at the thought of leaving you behind, but I find solace in the knowledge that our love created something beautiful—a precious gift that will forever be a part of us.

As our daughter takes her first breath, I want you to be her guiding light. You have always been the pillar of strength and love in my life, and I know that you will be the same for her. Wrap her in the warmth of our love, Henry, and let her know that she is a living testament to the love that bound us together.

In her eyes, you will find a reflection of my love for you. Treasure every giggle, every milestone, and every whispered 'I love you.' Teach her the values we held dear, and instill in her the kindness and compassion that defined our relationship.

Please remember, my love, that while my physical presence may be absent, my spirit remains with you and our daughter. I will watch over both of you, protecting and guiding you from wherever I may be. In her laughter, in her smile, and in the depths of her eyes, you will find glimpses of me.

Though my heart aches at not being able to witness our daughter grow, I find solace in the knowledge that she will have you as her father. You are a beacon of love and strength, Henry, and I know that you will fill her life with happiness and joy.

Please, my love, do not let grief consume you entirely. I want you to find joy in the moments you shared with our daughter and in the memories we created together. Embrace life, not just for yourself, but for her. Be the father she deserves, and let our love be her guiding star.

I entrust our daughter's future to you, Henry. Love her fiercely, protect her with all your might, and may she always know the depth of our love.

With all the love that my heart can hold, and even more,

Y/N"

As Henry finished reading your heartfelt words, he clutched the letter close to his heart, the weight of your absence heavier than ever. Tears streamed down his face, a mixture of profound loss and immense love. In that moment, he made a silent vow to honor your wishes and be the father you believed he could be.

With a trembling breath, Henry whispered into the air, "Thank you, my love. Our daughter will know the strength of your love through me. I will cherish her and ensure she knows how deeply she was loved by her mother."

In the depths of his grief, Henry felt a comforting presence surrounding him, as if you were there, whispering back, "I love you, Henry. Always and forever."

And with your words echoing in his heart, Henry knew that your love would guide him on this new journey of fatherhood. He would cherish your daughter, enveloping her in the love that you had left behind. Together, they would carry your legacy forward, forever connected by the bond that transcended life and death.

In the gentle breeze that brushed his cheek, in the soft cries of their daughter, and in the memories that lingered, Henry felt your love. And he knew that, even in your absence, your spirit would forever be intertwined with his and their daughter's lives.

#henry cavill x reader #x reader #reader dies #image #one shot #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill one shot #against #Child birth

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cardierreh15 · 2 years ago

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When love finds a way

I do not give any permission to copy or repost my work!

Warnings 18+: Death , Blood .

Pairings: Henry Cavill (Drake/Dracula) x Misty/Mia (Black!plus size female)

Description: The past comes back to haunt Drake in the most strangest way.

Song(s): Time Of The Season by The Zombies

Word Count: 2.9K

One

Shadows casted and danced as one with the candlelight upon the walls. Sweet angelic laughter had filled the air as he nuzzled his pointy nose into her soft warm skin; pampering sweet kisses on her flesh.

A toothy grin had curled on his lips, with a glint of sparkle in his blood pigmented eyes. ‘I really must go now. I told you I’d stay for a glass of wine and one had turned into 4.’

‘Ah,’ He smacked at his teeth and leaned over to grab the neck of the wine bottle, ‘Just one more my love.’ Then he’d reached over and poured a few more ounces into her once again empty glass. ‘I’d wished you just move in with me already.’

The woman wanted to object, but instead she just laughed and looked over at him, ‘If I didn’t know better, Id be thinking you’re trying to get me drunk! And, if we moved in together, I don’t think I’d be able to keep my promise to myself.’

‘And what promise was that my love?’

‘To at least wait a month into our marriage before you put me to bed.’

‘Hmph. You do make it hard to wait.’

The couple chuckled before he looked up at her, ‘And Perhaps I am… or maybe I just enjoy your company that much.’ He placed the bottle back down on the glass table and sat back, ‘We are to spend the rest of eternity together after all.’ He smiled softly.

The woman scooped up her wine glass by the neck and look at the beautiful wedding ring that donned her hand. A hesitant smile curled on her lips before she took a sip of her wine once more.

Drake’s eyebrows pulled into one as he noticed her happy demeanor had faltered some. He sat up and scoot closer to her, ‘Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts my love?’ He took her hand carefully and placed a gentle kiss upon her diamond.

‘N-no. It’s just that … eternity is a long time. I want to experience life first before … immortality. I want to birth a son, or a daughter—‘

He sighed softly, closing his eyes before, ‘Mia—‘

‘Dracula…’ she said as she snapped her head towards him. ‘You are my husband… is it not your job to give me what my heart truly desires?’

‘Yes but—‘

‘But?’ Her sweet honey brown eyes stared into his.

He broke the eye contact before looking down at her mahogany hands. ‘What if—‘ he swallowed his spit and looked back up at her, ‘What if I can’t? What if all these years have finally caught up with me and I can’t provide you with what you want? What then, Mia?’

Mia placed her small warm palms on his cheeks and pulled him into a sweet kiss. She could taste small remnants of blood upon his lips but it didn’t bother her much. She’d gotten use to the taste in the past year and a half.

When she’d broken the kiss, she whispered against his lips, ‘I know we can. Plus, It is always fun… practicing.’ She giggled.

Drake chuckled as well, pressing his forehead against hers, ‘It is. Maybe we can start practicing tonight?’ He then rushed in another kiss, before pampering her face and neck with sweet pecks.

A tickled laugh bounced off the walls before they were smothered with his own mouth once again.

The two were barely out of their clothes when they heard someone call his name, “DRACULA! SURRENDER YOURSELF VILE CREATURE OF HELL!”

He looked over his shoulder as he hovered over his lover.

‘Who is that?!’ Mia said in worry.

Drake quickly and carefully pulled himself off of her and walked over to the window. Once he’d pulled the winter curtain to the side, there stood the whole nearby village with pitchforks and lit up torches in their hands.

‘Mia, stay here.’

‘What?! No, Drake— they’ll kill you!’

‘Mia!’ With his immortal speed, he grabbed her face, ‘Please… stay… here. They mustn’t know you’re here—‘

‘DRACULAAA! COME OUT, THE CHURCH ONLY WISHES TO SPEAK WITH YOU!’

‘Hide. Do not come out until I come to you myself do you understand?!’

Mia nodded quickly before she hurried off and searched for hiding places.

He walked towards the large door of his home, unlocked it and pulled it open. He was instantly greeted with the scent of burning oil. He could hear the racing of everyone’s heart. They feared him. All of them except the priest, who held that cursed book in his arm.

Shutting the door softly behind him, he then walked forward, ‘My I help you… priest?’

‘Hmm… indeed you can.’

Drake narrowed his eyes as he took in the individual. He donned dirty blonde hair, green eyes and had a lean, tall frame. He wore a black cloak with red trimmings around the wrists and around his neck he work a silver necklace with a large cross pendant.

‘I Am Priest Darius Obadiah. I preach at the local town’s church. And I specifically specialize in exorcisms and vampire hunting. Basically, I am a servant of God, here to rid the world of evil. Such as yourself. ‘

‘I do not know what you mean Priest. Perhaps you’ve stumbled across the wrong man.’

Priest Darius narrowed his eyes for a second and sighed before continuing, ‘I have received word on your whereabouts from the people of the church. These…’ the priest reached his arm out, gesturing towards the folk behind him, ‘People. But that isn’t the most interesting part…’

Drake’s brows pulled into one, his red eyes searching the crowd for anyone that he would have recognized. He paid no mind to the priest until he mentioned, ‘The townsfolk say you have a woman. I hear she’s the most beautiful thing this world has ever seen. Skin chocolatey and silky. Something you’d kill to dig your fangs into?’

His eyes darted back towards the priest and he clenched his jaw together, ‘I haven’t heard of such a woman… I am a mere farmer… I am alone.’

The Priest raised a brow before continuing, ‘I want to believe you son… but the darkness I feel exuding off of you is unmatched. Joseph, Phillip! Bring her to me please!’

Drake snapped his head over his shoulder as two large men carried her out by her arms. ‘DRAKE! Get off! Get off of me!’ And they tossed her to the ground before the priest.

‘MIA! DON’T YOU DARE HARM HER!’ His crimson eyes glowed brighter than the moon. His large fangs protruded from his gums.

‘Ah! There she is! Just as they have described to be too! And all we needed from you— was a little motivation.’ The Priest chuckled as he walked over to the young beautiful woman and grabbed her by her thick curls. ‘Up, up, up— there you go sweet heart.’

‘AUGH!’ Mia whimpered out.

‘Mia! I won’t let them hurt you my love!’

The priest gave some of the villagers a nod for them to start burning down his stock, and his home.

Drake was aware of what was occurring behind him but he kept his eyes fixated on the priest.

‘Look… I know you planned on living a quiet life. Settling down but you are an abomination. A demon sent from hell to plague this world your vileness. You have and only will put everyone you know in danger… so you can give yourself up now or I will simply break you.’

‘DRAKE! DON’T DO IT!’

Drake kept his eyes on the priest before he looked at his distressed wife. ‘Mia…’

The priest smacked his teeth, rolling his eyes, ‘Fine. Let’s see how you bend under pressure.’ And in record time, the priest pulled out a dagger and stabbed it through her back.

A gasp came from Mia’s lips as he snatched the blade right out of her.

‘MIAAAA!’ He rushed over to his dying lover, falling to his knees and pulled her up into his lap. ‘Mia! Baby, baby— it’s ok! It’s not that bad—It’s.‘ his breathing was shaky. He pulled her up so he could see the wound in her back and placed one hand there, and the other rested on her exit wound in her abdomen. ‘Come on baby! Stay with me!’

‘Such a shame… she was beautiful. What a waste.’ And the priest turned around and walked through the villagers.

‘Dr—… it’s-it’s okay.’ She muttered out, her eyes wet with her own tears. Mia placed her bloodied hands on his face, ‘it’s OK… let it… g-go.’

‘It’s OK baby. I’ve got you. Just… stay with me OK. Look at me!’

Mia gave him a pained smile as a thick tear fell down the side of her face. Her face finally relaxed. And her rhythmic heart had came to a stop.

‘No, no, no. Mia— Mia please! Stay with me please. MIA!’

He sobbed as he held her. A pain he’d never experienced before ripped through him and he just let out a painful wail. He pulled her up into his arms and just held her corpse close. Rocking as if he were putting a baby to sleep.

‘What about him, father?’ One of the villagers asked.

‘He is broken. Death is what he wants. His punishment for his presence shall to live without the one he loves for the rest of his days.’

‘And what if he comes for us?!’ Another villager asked in worry.

‘He will… and we shall be ready.’

In the back, his home was already engulfed in flames. His stock ran around rampant, burning and dying. But cared nothing about it. They’d taken away the one thing he loved in this world.

He sought revenge. And God and his disciples were to feel his everlasting wrath. For those who steered in his way— would meet their dreadful and untimely demise too.

***

Modern Day

The weather was treacherous today. It was almost enough to make Drake stay indoors. But he needed to finished his painting. He was almost done with it, so he bit the silver bullet and got himself together.

He wore a simple black slacks and a button down with a black wife beater beneath it. He then threw on a black blazer to complete the look. And on his way out the door, he grabbed his black umbrella and his sunglasses.

Drake inhaled deeply; taking in all of the scents around him. He could smell the moisture in the air. It was to rain soon, so he had to hurry back. The man was like a cat thrown in a tub! He hated getting wet against his will.

He then carefully pulled his AirPods out of his pocket and plugged them into his ears. Pulling out his iPod, he restarted his playlist and began on his journey.

Drake lived in the city. This way he never felt the need to invest in a car. As far as he knew, he wasn’t being hunted thus, so walking about was a bit more relieving. Plus, everything was nearby! Supermarket, Drugstore, Restaurants, Hospital (where he would stock up his special packets at). A perfect place go blend in.

‘Hi, Mister Drake!’ A little boy with bright ginger hair on a bike chirped out, stopping right in front of him.

He pressed his lips and stopped in his tracks, ‘Oliver, careful with that thing… you can hurt someone… or worse!’

‘What? This little ole thing? You are too big to be hurt by the likes of me.’ The young man said proudly.

‘That’s kind of you young man. Now if you’d excuse—‘

‘My mom keeps asking about you Mister Drake! When you gone call her?’

Drake raised a brow, his neck stiffening at the thought of his mother. She was a beautiful woman, pretty blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair, coke bottle shape. But he would only use her for one thing if not, the other. So he looked behind him and ahead of him before leveling down to Oliver’s height.

‘Look,’ he pulled his shades down to the top of his nose, revealing his bright crimson eyes. ‘Tell your mother to stop sending her son to speak regarding her. It’s inappropriate and unladylike. And if she’d like, I’m available everyday around 7:30. K?’

The young man’s lips were parted open, stuck in a trance almost until he nodded.

‘Good lad,’ he pushed his shades back over his orbs and stood up straight, ‘Now, run along now. Behave now, young Oliver. I will be watching you!’

***

As soon as he walked into the safety of the arts and crafts store, he brought down his umbrella and pushed his shades back over his head. Then, he picked up a hand basket.

Blinking a few times he allowed his sensitive orbs to take absorb the artificial light. He then inhaled deeply, this way he was able to find out everything about every person in the establishment. Most of the pheromones were the same usual scents, and some were different but not special enough for him to be pulled in. All except one.

‘Hmmm.’ He hummed softly before his attention was grasp by one of the workers.

‘Mr. Drake! How’s it going?’

He snapped his head towards the older woman before giving her a gentle smile, ‘Mrs. King. Hi, how are you? How was your holiday?’

‘It was delightful! Kids had a blast up there in the snow! But I didn’t get to see you before I left. No lie, I was a bit concerned. Are you doing alright?’

November 29th was the day that Mia had passed. And every year since her death he would prepare a memorial in her honor. That was also the last day Mrs. King worked before her vacation.

He nodded, pressing his lips together, ‘Just— had business to take care of. I’m fine, truly.’

‘Well, you know I am a phone call away. Oh! We restocked in your favorite Oil & Acrylics yesterday! Gone head have a blast!’ She grinned happily.

‘Oh goodie! I best be on my way!’ He grinned as he began to make his way towards the back of the store where there were all kinds of varieties of canvases, paints, and brushes. This was his safe haven. His personal Heaven.

Suddenly, that unusual yet, familiar scent danced around his nose once again. But it was a delightful scent. It made love to his senses and made whatever soul he had left in him, feel right at home.

So he just followed it, gaining closer and closer to the smell. To his surprise was a curly haired, cinnamon skinned woman admiring a large squeeze bottle of paint. She was curvaceous, and small in height. She had the same silhouette as his long lost love.

Or perhaps he was seeing things.

Drake quietly walked over and just stood there eyeing the different kinds of paint. A smooth, seductive song began to play in his ears. Causing his eyes to close slightly as he savored the sound.

Until he found himself singing out softly.

‘What’s your name, whose your daddy—‘

‘Whose your daddy,’ the girl adlibed, ‘He rich? Is he rich like mee?’

Drake blinked once and looked over at the woman who was still studying the paint and now humming the rest of the song.

‘You like The Zombies?’ He said with a smirk, his eyebrow raised and curiosity.

‘Not really,’ she said before dropping the blue paint in her hand basket and looked up at him. Her hair bounced and moved effortlessly. So lively and full! ‘Just that song in particularly.’ She giggled.

When their eyes met, Drake felt like he’d been kicked in the gut by a mule. She had her same beautiful, charming smile. Those same honeycomb eyes, and those lips… those full lips he use to just indulge on for no particular reason at all. Just because that’s the closest he got to tasting her. Hell, even her heart beat sounded the same.

He was still as if he was caught in Medusa’s glare.

‘Uh..’

Drake blinked out of his own head, ‘I’m… sorry. You just reminded me of someone.’ He turned his gaze away and started packing the colors he needed.

The girl smiled softly, her small dimples deepening in her cheeks, ‘I hope they were good memories.’ She gave him a gentle giggle.

He bit into his bottom lip and pressed his lips together. He was afraid to say anything else.

‘I’m… Misty… by the way.’

Drake looked down at his basket before looking back over at her with a gentle smile, ‘Drake.’

‘Drake?’

‘Mmmm.’ He hummed in agreement.

‘Like the rapper?’

‘Who?’ He raised a brow before looking over at the gorgeous woman.

‘You know? “You use to call me on your cell phone— late night when you neeed myyy love.” You know that guy?’ She said elbowing him gently.

Drake stared at her, confusion written on his face.

‘Oh dear… that was a very popular song.’ Misty giggled as she picked up another color.

‘Not popular enough, I suppose.’

The girl laughed and shook her head, ‘I guess not. So why do they call you Drake?’

‘It’s short for something…’ he paused, feeling like he was opening way too many doors.

‘OK… what is it then?’

‘I’d rather not tell. I don’t like my name.’

‘Alright, well— it’s been a pleasure “Call me on my cellphone,” man.’ she began to back up and wave her dainty fingers towards him. ‘I must get going. See ya around.’

‘See ya.’ He murmured as she disappeared around the corner. If it were possible for a vampire to throw up, he probably would’ve done that already.

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