#Henry cavill character x reader

[peyton-warren]

Blinded by the Fog Chapter 9

Characters: Reader, Captain Syverson Pairings: Reader x Syverson, Jake Jensen x Reader Word count: 3686 Type: angst and fluff Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. You will need tissues according to my beta. Guilt, self-depreciation, self-doubt, loss of spouse and found family, swearing, adorably adorablness and sickeningly sweet Sy. Summary: Reader and Sy have their first official date.

Author's Note: So many people to thank for this one. Thank you to @ellethespaceunicorn for the beta and for helping me through some rough spots in this. Thank you to @adulting-sucks for her continued support and betaing. Thank you to @sarahdonald87 and @geralts-yenn for listening to me whine about this chapter their support.

Ask Box: Open

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Chapter 8 The following night you put your car into park next to Sy’s truck in his driveway a few minutes before you were scheduled to arrive for your first official date.  You nervously looked at yourself in the mirror, looking for imperfections for the thousandth time even though Aaran Syverson had already seen you at one of the lowest moments in your entire life just a few short weeks ago and still wanted to see you tonight.  

Flipping your visor back in place, you reached for the handle of the door, reminding yourself and the nervous butterflies that this was your idea.  Last night after you had assured Madre that you had made it home safe and sound, Sy and you talked more about apprehensions you both had and what you both wanted moving forward.  And it was quickly but delicately decided you would try actually dating.  That alone made you feel like a teen again, filled with excitement about seeing Sy in a more intimate way and also supplied you with dread at attempting to date in a town that seemed to be overstocked with people who knew about your recent loss.  You knew it was absurd to assume everyone who might see the two of you out together would think you were the world’s worst widow, but your brain would not let that possibility go.  Sy’s compromise was to have your first official date at his house the following night, he would cook for you. This plan seemed simple enough. The perfect combination of everyone’s wishes. But you couldn’t help the nerves now that it was here as you approached his front door, fidgeting with the skirt of your new dress for the millionth time.  

The new dress..... The one you had run off over an hour away to purchase this morning, deeming everything in your closet to be too tied to your husband, unable to shake the feeling you were cheating on Jake by agreeing to see Sy.  If you had new clothes, clothes your husband had never seen, never touched, it would make this semi-okay in your brain.  And speaking of never touched, you also took it upon yourself to buy yourself new lingerie.  You blushed hotly at the thought of the pastel purple set you were currently wearing under your dress.  You weren’t entirely sure you were ready to sleep with Aaran yet, but if it came up - excuse the pun- you were certain new undergarments should eliminate a portion of your hesitation.  

As you reached the door, you raised your hand to knock, only to have it opened before your knuckles could touch the painted surface.  You jumped, squeaked, and nearly dropped one of your gifts in your hands as you hid the second one behind your back with a rustle.  “Oh hi!” you tried to sound casual and normal as you looked up at your host leaned against his door.  And as your eyes flowed over him from toe to head, all rational thought disappeared from your brain, and you are fairly certain you need a bib.  

Dressed in jeans and dark blue collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and barefoot, Aaran exuded comfort and confidence all in one, something you wished you could say you felt at the same time. Your eyes landed on his sparkling blue ones as he finished his own perusal of you, making you flush as his eyes crinkle in the corner as his smile widened.   

“You look lovely,” he assured you, gesturing for you to step over the threshold by opening the door wider and stepping back with a nod.

Flustered, your eyes flitted around to find a safe place to land that was not on Sy as you entered his home. “Oh, I brought you these,” you stuttered, holding the hand not behind your back to offer him the six-pack of his favorite beer.  As his fingers brushed yours in the handle, you gasped, and looked up at him, his eyes trained on your face, the look both adoring and curious. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice comforting and alluring, and seeming to flow over you in a way that it had not just a few days ago, seeming to almost coat your soul.  

Self-consciously, your hand dropped from the handle, choosing to grip the side of your skirt.  “You’re welcome.  Oh and you look nice too,” you admitted, your voice just this side of stuttering.  You suddenly felt very silly about your second gift for Sy, realizing what you thought might be a fun and playful gesture might not come across that way.  You felt self conscious and awkward as he waited expectantly for your final reveal.  

On your way to his house when you stopped to grab the beer, you stood by the display filled with bouquets of flowers, partly thinking it would be a cute idea, that he would likely do the same if he showed up at your house to pick you up for a real first date instead of this hiding away game you were forcing the two of you to play because of your own insecurities about being recently widowed.  You had stood before the display trying to pick out the perfect bunch.  You wondered if Sy even had a favorite flower.  And if he did what would it be.  Are there any flowers Texas was known for?   And you realized quickly you didn’t know much about Texas or the man you were joining for dinner.  

“I have to get back to cooking,” Sy said softly, breaking you from your thoughts.  “Make yourself comfortable.  Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.  “A beer?” He raised the bottles in his hand with a soft smile, before wandering toward the kitchen at a slow pace, half watching you.  

“Water is great and I know where it is,” you insisted.  

“Nonsense,” he insisted, popping the beers in the fridge and pausing at the stove to stir something.  “Let me get it for you, grab a seat.” 

You entered his kitchen to be greeted by familiar lovely smells. “Oh my god, is that-“ you paused, smelling again, craning your neck to look at the stove from the doorway.  

Sy’s face broke into a broader smile from the sink  “It is.  I remembered how much you liked it when I made it for you a few weeks ago,” he stated, settling a glass of water near the stools at the breakfast bar.  

Your smile matched his as you watched him turn back to the stove.  “It smells as amazing as I remember. Can I do anything to help?”  

Sy glanced over his shoulder at you, a calming looking on his face.  “You can sit there and tell me about your day,” he insisted.  

You glanced at the stools and then recognized you still held your other hand behind your back.  “Hey before I do that, do you have a vase?” The eyebrow of meow appeared again and coasted high on his forehead.  “A vase?” he asked questionably, still looking at you from over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you responded, blushing.

He dropped the spoon to the stove top and nodded, licking his thumb and forefinger.  You couldn’t stop yourself from focusing on his tongue and lips as he made a soft, subtle smacking noise.  “I do,” he admitted, heading towards you, noting the look on your face with a small smirk.  You stood frozen in place as he got within an arm's reach, all the while his eyes were trained on yours.  At the last moment before he would have bumped into you, he sidestepped, brushing his arm against the one you had tucked behind your back, a half-attempt to look at what you had hidden, as if he didn’t have a clue after your one question.  “But there’s a problem,” he softly admitted, as you turned, keeping your front facing him while bending your body back to keep his last gift out of his view.  He walked into a small room off of the kitchen that you had not ventured into during your last visit, and you followed through the open folded french doors.  On the other side was a small but well appointed dining room, and in the middle of it sat a beautifully set table, including a vase in the center filled with simple daisies with a few peace roses speckled throughout them, complementary greens in between and flowing from a glass vase.  

You let out a small gasp, with a soft smile.  “Those are lovely,” you admitted, mentally comparing them to the grocery store tulips behind your back.  

“We can find a glass for the ones you are hiding.” Sy teased, making you awkwardly offer them to him.  “They are lovely too,” he told you, taking them from you, before kissing your cheek.  “You are so sweet to bring them.” 

With your skin tingling from his affections, you shrugged.  “They are just-” 

With a gentle look over his shoulder, Sy cut you off.  “The first flowers anyone ever gave me,” he amended.  “And I love them, thank you.”

Following him back into the kitchen, you watched as he grabbed a tall pint glass from the cupboard before glancing at the stove.  “Could you do the honors?” he asked, gesturing to the flowers he had laid on the counter by the sink.  “I need to finish dinner.”

“Oh of course of course!”   You slipped your shrug off, draping it over a chair as you moved quickly to the sink as he headed to the stove.  “I need a sharp knife,” you stated after looking at the bottom of the stems realizing they were dry and likely not getting any water.  

Sy didn’t move from his spot but gave you directions to find a knife to your liking.  The kitchen filled with comfortable silence along with the soft music coming from somewhere, you finally realized Sy had music playing throughout the house since you stepped foot into the house.  You usually were the same though lately you had forgone music in your everyday life because every song seemed to remind you of Jake or another Loser.  Soon you found yourself moving to Stone Free, humming along with the Hendrix song as you trimmed the ends of the flowers, placing them in the glass filled with water one by one.  If you weren’t mistaken, you might have caught Sy watching you from the stove as he filled bowls and plates with your meal.  

As you put the last bloom into the glass, the song changed and your face lit up.  “I haven’t heard this song in ages,” you lamented as Mick Jagger began singing about being free to do what he wants, any old time.   Setting the makeshift vase and its contents on the counter closer to the stove, you sang softly with Jagger as you turned to look at Sy only to find him right next to you. With a growing grin on his face, he reached for you, and pulled you into his arms, one winding around your back.  Biting your lip you looked up at him while you slid your hand into his.  With very little effort, Sy carefully danced you between the counter and the center island of his kitchen.  Eyes always on yours, he led you into the open space of the foyer, making your smile widen as you followed his lead through the house.  

'Cause I'm free

To do what I want

Any old time

Sy spun you, extending his arm for you to step out away from him before drawing you back in, pulling your body flush to his.  With a smirk, he leaned you over, dipping you as the song ended, making your face burst with a smile and a blush.  He held you there for a second,  your chests slightly pressed together, your breathing heavier than normal, staring in each other's eyes.  After a moment’s pause, Sy opened his mouth. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he admitted softly.  

Without a second thought, you simply nodded. “Then I think you should,” you barely whispered, your heart all but bursting from your chest as Sy leaned in to kiss you.  You eagerly met his lips as he pulled you into a standing positions, his hands now sitting on your spine, holding you close to him as one of your hands threaded itself through the hairs on the back of his neck, a couple of the fingers on the other hand gently gripping at the front of his shirt, sliding around one of the buttons.  Standing on your tiptoes, your lips melded with his.  At first the kiss was gentle and sweet but as Sy’s lips parted, and his tongue stroked across your lower lip, the temperature shifted.  All thought disappeared from your brain, the world disappeared, all concerns about the impropriety of this flew out the window as your tongues stroked over each other and your breathing increased.  Sy’s hand slid up your back to tangle in the hair at the base of your neck, your fingers almost matching in pressure as your kiss continued to escalate, getting lost in each other until you heard an annoying buzzer sound from the kitchen.  

Sy pressed his forehead to yours after pulling his mouth away, but made no move to detangle himself from you.  “Dinner’s gonna get cold,” he admitted.  

Your eyes stayed closed as you shrugged, not wanting to move.  “What’s ‘dinner’?”

He guffawed before kissing your nose.  “God you are adorable.”  Your grin widened as you blinked your eyes open, looking at him as he slowly released you.  Not letting go of your hand, he led you back into the kitchen.  “Can I help get this to the table?” you asked. 

Within a few minutes, the two of you were seated at the table.  This was far from the first meal you had shared, but looking around the table you couldn't help but feel a bit flushed and giddy at the measures Sy had taken for this first date.  The butterflies were still fluttering in your stomach but they had settled some as you began to eat, chatting about your day, about work, about your lives.  All these things were not new topics for the two of you to share, but it felt different, more open, more sincere.  

After dinner, Sy filled your wine glass with water and a pretty slice of lemon before leading you out into his backyard.  There was a cute little setting around a fire pit, a smattering of chairs, and benches, and the pit looked like it was ready to be sparked to life with just a single match.  Overhead were Edison bulbs strung through the trees, giving the faintest of lights.   

You followed him down the slate path, bare feet feeling the residual warmth the stones still held from the disappeared sun. As you settled into the settee, Sy made quick work with the fire, as you had predicted and joined you.   Without a second thought you curled into him, pressing yourself to his side, your head landing on his chest, your hand on his ribs.  At first he extended his arms outward, almost surprised by your actions, but he quickly recovered, draping one arm over your back and shoulder, curling his hand over your upper arm.  His other arm came to rest on his thigh, while he pressed his cheek to the top of your head.   “This ok?” You asked after a moment.  

Sy chuckled. “More than ok, hun.  More than.”  He squeezed you tighter against him. “Why wouldn’t it be?”   

You gently shrugged, eyes focused on the dancing flames in front of you.  “I don’t know.  Because you’ve been sending me different messages.” You felt your cheeks heat up.  “One second you are looking at me like I’m the only woman on the planet, and the next you are pouring me a glass of water so I’m sober enough to go home.”   

“First of all, tonight you are the only woman on the planet as far as I’m concerned,” he admitted into your hair.  “Secondly,” he paused as he wrapped his other arm around you, holding you firmer to him. “You are going home tonight.”  His arms tightened as you stiffened against him, your hand landing on his chest to push  away from him, as if he just insulted you by making decisions for you.  “This is our first date,” he reminded you.  “It wouldn’t be proper or right for anything else to happen except a lovely kiss goodnight at my door.”

Your brain warred for a few moments. Both touched and annoyed at his thoughts. “But what if I wanted more?” you ask even though you honestly didn’t know if you wanted more than what he was extending to you tonight.  You’d be a liar if you hadn’t thought about what sex with Sy would be like. But you also knew you were terrified at taking that next step with him.  In your mind, that direction was a huge step towards getting over Jake.  And you weren’t sure you wanted to get over him yet.  You weren’t ready to assign him to your past, put him on a shelf. He was, is, forever will be part of you.  

You felt Sy kiss the top of your head, followed by a scruffy peck on your forehead.  His hand cupped you under the chin, turning you to look up at him.  He skimmed his hand over your cheek, catching tears on his thumb, tears you didn’t even know you had cried.  “Because this,” he held up his damp digit.  “Tells me you are just as scared as I am by the next step.”

Your eyes fly from his hand to meet his blue eyes in the shadows cast by the fire light, confused and a little stung by his words.  “You are scared of sleeping with me?” 

Sy sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts.  He tightened his hold on you, his hand landing on your cheek again.  “Yes and no,” he admitted, his eyes slowly opening.  You could see so much swirling in there, wishing you could read them.  “I am partly scared I will wind up just being the man who helps you get over the heartbreak of losing Jake.  That I’m the one who’s gonna put you back together only for you to find someone else when you are whole again.” His words stung hard, piercing through your heart.   

“I am not asking you to put me back together,” you assert, pulling back from him.  You fully extract yourself from him.  “I can do that on my own.  I thought this was something more than just that.” Abruptly you stood, making to move around him, intent on grabbing your things and going.  You didn’t need his pity date.  

“Sugar no,” he expressed, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you back.  He turned on the seat to face you, his legs on either side of you as you stood, arms crossed, staring at the house, not at him.  “This is more than that.  So much more than that,” he assured you, dropping his arm from your waist.  His hand reaches for your arm, gently tugging it from your chest, sliding his hand up your forearm to twine your fingers with his.  After a few silent moments, he sighed.  “I’m just scared,” he admitted.  “Very scared. Of losing you mostly.  You are the best thing to happen to me. Your pain and your struggles only highlight how incredible you are.  I’m scared you are going to get through the pain of losing Jake, and realize I was just something to hold onto so you didn’t lose yourself while you were healing.” You turned to look at him as his voice cracked. “That I was a mistake.”

Tears in his eyes were your undoing, the hurt you felt disappeared. Cupping his cheek, you stepped forward.  “Never a mistake, Sy,” you assured him.  “Never.”  He wrapped his arms around your waist and hips and drew you close to him. He pressed his face to your belly as your hand landed on his head.  “You have been my light, my guiding light as I work through all this. No matter how this works out between us, I will never think of you as a mistake.”  

The two of you stayed like that for an untold amount of time, your hand flowing over his shaved head. His face stuffed into your belly, your thighs pressed to his chest as you stared into the stars beyond the tree limbs surrounding you.  Sy felt right in a way that even Jake never did.  

With guilt you looked up into the sky, hoping Jake could forgive you for that.  You loved him, still loved him so so much. But what you had found with Sy was different, more supportive, more mature, more fulfilling.  You felt more tears fall from your eyes as you stared at the stars, remembering the first time you saw the milky way was with Jake, remembering that your first time for a lot of things was with Jake, remembering there was going to be no more first times with Jake.  

Unexpectedly and surprisingly, Sy drew you into his lap, settling back on the sofa.  Your knees landed on the cushion on either side of his hips as you allowed yourself to be manhandled into his embrace.  You both buried your faces into each other's neck. It was only then that you realized you were crying, nay sobbing.  You clung to Sy as rough as he clung to you, the two of you riding this emotional roller coaster together but separate.  But most importantly together.  Together you could weather whatever was thrown at you.  With him at your side, you could face your fears of the unknown, of the changes that you were going to meet.  You knew you could do it alone but you also knew you didn’t have to as long as he was around.  

Authors Note 2: The first time reader saw the milky way with Jake can be seen here.

Tags:

General Tag List: @littleone65 @mysweetlittledesire @jvanilly @identity2212 @avengersfan25 @foxyjwls007 BBTF Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sconnie-doesnt-know @ronearoundlightly @toooldforobsessions Syverson Tag List: @mrsevans90 HC Tag List: @m07belzen @used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hawklin @geralts-yenn @summersong69

As always if you wanted to be added or removed from a tag let me know.

[cowboybeepboop]

Late Night

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut, gentle and romantic

Word count: 3.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[eccentricallygothic]

Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them… 

Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.

. . . 

After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.

You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part. 

So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least. 

But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.

Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown. 

It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.

And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.

“God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more. 

“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.

 “Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire. 

“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.

“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him. 

“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.

MASTERLIST

. . . 

I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Nothing More Than An Animal

Title: Nothing More Than An Animal

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Henry!Wolverine (Cavillrine) x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: After entering a dangerous biker bar alone, you’re almost assaulted. You are saved by a mutant with metal claws who might be more animal than man.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, unwanted attention, bar fight, Wolvie being Wolvie, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, claw kink

Beta: @peyton-warren

A/N: The title is taken from this quote from Savage Wolverine #13: “Most people think I'm nothing more than an animal!” Thank you to my amazing beta, Peyton, for giving me this idea in the first place.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You couldn’t help yourself. You stand across the street from the biker bar, a flickering streetlamp above you casting an off-white haze. The only thing keeping you from entering the establishment is your sense of self-preservation. This place, Torque Tavern, screams danger. But that only draws you in further.

You’re dressed in your usual style: your favorite Joan Jett shirt with the sleeves cut off, a denim jacket, a pair of figure-hugging black jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens boots. While normally you walk around with a sense of power, tonight was different.

A chill in the air makes you wrap your arms around yourself. You step off the curb into a dirty puddle, crossing the street after looking both ways. With your hand on the bar door, you pull it open and step inside.

The smell of stale beer and tobacco smoke hits your nostrils as the door closes behind you. A dozen heads turn to you, and your heart pounds. You look across the dimly lit room and notice one person who hasn’t paid you any attention, sitting on a stool at the L-shaped bar. You walk up and sit on a stool, a couple of seats away from the large man.

While you wait for the bartender to attend to you, you peek at the behemoth that sits near you. Wild, dark hair that comes to a point on each side, bushy sideburns, and a non-connecting beard outline his face. A white tank top stretches across his wide, thick frame. Bulbous, sweaty biceps glisten in the glow of the lights behind the bar. Hairy, veiny forearms lead down to strong hands: one grips around a lowball of amber liquid so tight that his knuckles are white, and the other balances a fat cigar between two fingers.

“Take a picture, bub, it’ll last longer,” the stranger says, letting out a plume of smoke from his chapped lips before turning his tidepool blue eyes on you.

After a few seconds that feel like minutes, you’re finally able to turn around and look away, mumbling an apology. You can still feel his eyes on you for a bit before he turns back to his drink and his solitude.

Your eyes shoot up once the bartender knocks on the bartop in front of you. “What’ll you have?”

“Uh, yeah. Moosehead and a shot of J.P. Wiser’s,” you reply, unsurprised when the bartender raises a brow at you. He then shrugs, cracks open a bottle of lager, and sets it in front of you. Grabbing a shot glass, he pours you a bit of the blended whiskey.

As soon as the light golden liquor is pushed toward you, you lift it and inhale the vanilla aroma. Tossing it back, the taste of licorice and cinnamon cascades over your tongue and down your throat. You exhale the burn and turn your attention to your lager.

You notice the murmurs behind you. A chair is pushed away from a table, and heavy boots are walking up behind you. A strong hand lands on your shoulder, and you freeze. “Hey, doll. Can I buy you a drink?”

You hold up your beer and decline, “I’m fine, honey.”

“Aw, come on. Just one drink. Promise I don’t bite, ‘less you want me to,” the source of the voice laughs, coming around to lean on the bar between you and the cigar-smoking stranger, his bald head glistening in the low light as he strokes his long, scraggly beard. His beer belly is barely contained in a Limp Bizkit shirt. This man is a walking red flag, and you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Look, pal. Let me enjoy the drink I have, ok? This is my one fucking night off this week, and I’m not in the mood to let you ruin it with any of your shitty pick-up lines or the promise of hanging out with you and the rest of the rejects from Sons of Anarchy, got it?” You surprised yourself by bellowing these words to a stranger, one who could probably benchpress you with ease.

You flinch as his expression turns dark and he raises a hand. “You stuck-up little bitch, I ought to—”

The cigar-smoking stranger interrupts, seizing him by the throat and lifting him effortlessly off the ground as if he were a mere feather. While holding him aloft with one hand, the other hand balls into a fist while sharp blades appear from his knuckles.

He’s a mutant! You’d never seen anyone use their abilities up close, but now a man with incredible strength and metal claws is gallantly defending your honor.

“I think the lady has everything she needs, so why don’t you and your little friends scurry along before I get really angry and carve you up in front of everyone, eh?”

The sound of a pump-action shotgun being cocked has every head whipping to the bartender. “Get out of my bar, freak!”

The mutant simply turns and deposits the asshole on the ground in a crumpled mess. Blowing another puff of smoke into the ceiling, he throws back the rest of his drink before grabbing a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and walking out. Halfway to the door, he turns to you and asks, “You coming or what, bub?”

You couldn’t scramble off your stool quick enough after he challenged you to follow him. Stepping over the man left on the floor, you scurry after your mutant savior. Once back in the night air, you look over as he stuffs the bottle into the storage of his Harley-Davidson. As he swings his leg over the bike and settles into the seat, you can't help but notice the bike sagging under his weight, as if he weighs a ton.

He turns back to his storage, taking out a helmet and holding it out to you. You’ve seen enough movies to know that riding with a stranger is a dumb idea. However, if that mysterious stranger happens to be attractive and cruising on a Harley, who could resist the allure of a thrilling adventure?

Taking the helmet, you pull it down over your head and lift a leg to get onto the bike behind him. As he turns the key, you clench your thighs at the vibration and wrap your arms around his waist.

“You don’t have to hold me so tight,” he informs.

“Oh, this isn’t tight," you remark, suddenly realizing that you don't know what to call this man. You offer your name, and he repeats it before giving his own.

“The name’s Logan.” He drops his cigar butt on the asphalt and stubs it out with his boot before putting up the kickstand and backing out of the parking spot. He revs the engine, and you are off on your way to wherever Logan wants to take you.

The drive is smooth, the city whizzing past you as Logan speeds down the highway. You end up at a garage that houses a few more Harleys in various states of repair. Logan puts the kickstand down and lets you get off the bike first. He watches as you take off the helmet and look around at where he’s taken you.

Exiting the bike, he takes the helmet when you hold it out to him. You don’t miss the way his fingers lingered on yours for a beat. He takes the bottle out of his bike pack and takes a hefty swig, then hands it to you.

You read the label, ‘Forty Creek Confederation Oak’, and put the bottle to your lips. Tipping it, you are delighted to taste the honey flavor. Handing him the bottle, you hold the liquor in your mouth until it starts to burn, and then you swallow and exhale the nutty finish.

He appears to be quite taken aback that you managed to drink without gagging, and his intrigue deepens as you begin to move closer into his personal space. The warmth in your chest from the alcohol has you feeling full and content. The heat coming off of his body as you stand close enough to breathe in his air has you feeling something completely overwhelming: pheromone-induced arousal.

Your libido is making itself known as you watch him watch you. Unable to stop your hands, they find themselves smoothing up his tank-covered torso until you tug at the collar. He gets the hint and sets the bottle down before removing his shirt.

You encounter a soft, furry chest that invites you to sink your fingers into its warmth. Tightening your digits in the hair on his pretty pecs, you revel in the growl he makes. He then levels the playing field, grabbing you by the nape of the neck with one large paw and bringing your face to his.

As you part your lips, a soft whimper slips out, unable to be contained, while he teasingly brushes his tongue against your lower lip. Growling again, he dips further to slot your mouth with his. He devours the moans that come out of you as he grabs a handful of your ass, chuckling into the kiss as you let him take the lead. His tongue licks into your mouth, and you feel drunk on his whiskey-laden kiss.

Breaking the kiss, he pushes down on your shoulders until you are kneeling at his feet. You start to unfasten his tight-fitting jeans, but he swats your hands away.

“Not yet, bub,” he warns. “I wanna try something.”

With that, he has you pass him the bottle. He takes a drink and then holds your cheek against his denim-covered cock. You can sense that he’s packing quite a surprise down there, and you’re eagerly anticipating the moment it’s unleashed.

“Eyes on me,” he commands.

You watch as he takes the bottle and pours about a shot’s worth of liquor over his chest. Watching as the liquid washes over him, you are more than eager to taste it directly from his skin. After you’ve cleaned his chest of all traces, he takes another drink. This time, he holds your face by the jaw and leans down, spitting the whiskey directly into your mouth.

You gulp it down eagerly, on the verge of pleading for another sip, when he scoops you up from the ground and twirls you around, positioning you over the bike you arrived on. He yanks down your jeans, your panties going with them. He lands a slap on each cheek before you hear him unzip his pants and feel his heavy dick teasing your clit.

He kicks your legs open further, pulls your denim jacket off, and lines himself up with your soaked entrance. Sliding in, he hisses at the heat of your tightness. You whine at his girth, stretching you more than any other cock you’ve ever taken. Once he bottoms out, the tip kisses your cervix, and his hairy ball sac rests against your puffy pussy. He pauses to let you get used to his size, but as he continues to take his time, it seems he is just tormenting you.

“Logan, please. Need you to move,” you plead, wiggling your hips to get any kind of friction.

You don’t see the toothy grin that covers his face, but you know by the way he tightens his grip on your hips that he is about to fuck you ten ways from Sunday.

Gradually withdrawing his hips, he eases out until only the tip of his shaft stays nestled within you, and then he thrusts back in with force. Doing it again, and then again, he pauses after each thrust to tease you. But on the third plunge, he doesn’t stop; he just keeps driving into you.

The rhythmic sounds of your sweat-soaked skin colliding form a captivating tune, harmonizing with the slick, squelching rhythm of his thrusts deep inside you. Coupled with Logan's deep, primal growls and your breathy moans, it creates an intoxicating symphony of desire.

You sense one of his hands sliding away from your hip, pushing your top up your back, and then a sharp SNIKT! pierces the air. You almost turn to inquire where the sound came from, but you soon feel something razor-sharp and hot to the touch sliding down your back. Once you realize that he’s touching you with his claws, you’re overcome with arousal, and your walls flutter around him. He fucks you through your orgasm and retracts his claws.

He slows his hips, pulling out and moving you both over to a nearby armchair. Sitting down first, he crooks a finger at you, and you remove your jeans and boots before straddling his hips. As you lower yourself onto him, you feel him fill you once more, the sensation overwhelming as you settle in.

You close your eyes and begin to ride him slower than before. Before you know it, you feel hot steel, or what you assume to be steel, at your neck and open your eyes to see his fist a few inches from your face. The claws, held within a millimeter of your jugular, glide across your skin.

“Hey, bub? You gonna keep pussyfooting around, or are you gonna ride this cock like the good little slut I know you are?” He asks, his pupils dilated until there is barely any blue left.

Your mouth opens and closes, but there is no sound coming out besides whimpers of fear that he might push those claws through your neck. Honestly, it added an extra little something to the experience, feeling that he might cut you at any moment.

The claws disappear back into the skin between his knuckles, and instead, he wraps a hand around your neck, guiding you to ride his length exactly as he wants. Your hands hold his thick wrist as you impale yourself over and over again.

“That’s it. Ride my cock just like that,” he praises, sticking two fingers in your mouth that you gluttonously suck. He locks his gaze on yours while you reach another peak of pleasure, your inner walls tightening around him as you release a wave of warmth that cascades down his length and between his legs.

When you threaten to slow down, he fucks into you, chasing his release. At this point, you are drooling over his fingers and looking like the fucked-out little doll that you are. You can tell that he is close as his hips stutter and his brows furrow as he removes his fingers from your mouth.

“Come inside me, Logan. Want it, need it so bad,” you beg, moving your hips as he drives into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. He lets out a throaty growl and buries himself to the hilt inside of you. Feeling him twitch inside you, rope after rope of his cum painting your cervix, you reach back and play with his balls.

It’s minutes before his cock softens enough to slip out of you, and you rest your head on his chest as his jizz drips from your thoroughly used hole. To your astonishment, his hand rises to gently stroke your back while you find yourself gripping his chest hair.

Little did you know, this was only round one with the big lug. He’ll let you get some shut-eye for now, but later? He’d like to fuck you on every available surface in his garage. And what he wants, he always gets.

A/N: I intentionally used a line from the X-Men (2000), but then failed at “Chekov’s Gun” sort of. But this story only has two acts. So, fuck Chekov. I hope you all enjoyed my little fuckfest here, and please do let me know what you thought!! Writers are fed by comments!

**Tag List**

@littlefreya @mrs-solo-walker @viking-raider

Let me know if you want to be added (or removed). 😁

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒌𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - after getting his heart broken, something leads clark to the strawberry shack, allowing him to release all his anger.

warning - smut, gloryhole, swearing, slight angst, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Lois had left him, she had packed her bags and walked out the door. Though she wasn’t expecting him home, which explained the shocked look on her face when he walked through the front door, seeing her bags packed and her keys in her hand. Clark watched her leave before flying off anywhere that could keep his mind off her. He stumbled upon a certain building that caught his eye, the flashing sign that read ‘The Strawberry Shack’ caused him to become curious, so he landed and walked in. 

Listening to the woman at the front as she explained things, his face turning red, jaw clenching and his brows furrow as he realised the type of establishment he walked into. “So, sugar. What’s it gonna be? Door one or door two?” 

“Uh… What the hell. Door two.” He pulls out some cash and hands it over before walking toward the door, he can feel his mind go crazy as he enters, never seeing this many naked women before. Clark could feel a pull towards a certain woman, not being able to control his feet as he walks in your direction. He’d have to remember to be careful, not wanting to literally split you open from his strength. “Hello.”

Clark was mad and you could practically feel that radiating off him. So, you spread your legs, inviting him in for him to use you however he pleases. “I can feel your anger, handsome. Why don’t you use me, take it out on me.” 

Clark glares down at your sopping cunt, licking his lips as he feels himself harden in his pants. His hands move subconsciously, taking his cock out and stroking it as he stares down at you. A groan slips from his lips before he begins to slowly push inside of you. Clark’s eyes slip closed as he revels in the feel of a new woman, slowly thrusting in and out of you, hands gently gripping your hips as he feels you squeeze around his thick girth. 

“Oh, you feel so good. Fuck me, please.” You let out a breathless moan, your back arches off the bench as he begins to slam into you, hitting that spot deep inside of you. Clark begins to lose control, thrusting faster and harder, his cock throbs as he really fucks you. He grunts and groans, tightening his grip slightly, his eyes glow red as lasers shoot from his eyes and he quickly blinks.

“Fuck…” His balls tighten, hips jerk as he growls, releasing thick ropes of cum inside of you, coating your tight walls. He continues to roughly fuck into you until his balls are empty, enjoying how you squirt around him. “F–fuck…” He pulls out slowly, cleaning you up before tucking himself back into his pants. “I–I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” Clark quickly worries, hurriedly running out the door and flying off, feeling ashamed for using you for his pleasure. 

You lie there, staring above as you can barely feel your legs, tingling between your thighs as stars cover your vision and a dopey smile rests on your face.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[witchywithwhiskey]

Hi Molly<3

How about captain Syverson and

“be still” - “i can’t” - “yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?”

morning cuddling with the love of your life

pairing: boyfriend!captain syverson x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, morning sex, fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, pet names (bunny), morning cuddles, established relationship taken to the next couple levels 👀

word count: 1,800ish

a/n: ahhh thank you so much for sending in this prompt—and for requesting my second favorite captain!! this one is just pure smut with a very fluffy ending, i hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

The sunny spring morning began, as all your mornings had since you’d started dating Captain Syverson, with some sleepy cuddling. You’d only been dating a few months, and he hadn’t moved in yet, but Sy always seemed to end up in your bed—even the nights he worked late—and you enjoyed him being there. You loved falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his warm comfort too much to say anything about it.

That morning, the sun was shining through your bedroom windows and casting a yellow glow over everything. But it was chilly beyond your blankets, the spring day not having yet been warmed by the sun, and you were happy to stay in bed. You were still half-asleep when your fingers started searching for Sy’s broad, warm body, pulling yourself closer once you found him, humming happily when he wrapped his thick, beefy arms around you. 

You sighed contentedly with your face buried in his chest, your body settling into his comforting embrace as you breathed in the woodsy, familiar scent of his skin. The hair dusting across his burly chest tickled your cheeks pleasantly and you shifted closer, hitching your bare thigh over his hip. Because you wore only one of Sy’s t-shirts, your uncovered core pressed to the soft cotton of Sy’s boxers, and you felt his bulge twitch against your warmth.

A little shiver raced down your spine, but you were still too sleepy to do anything about the length hardening between your thighs. Besides, Sy didn’t seem inclined to take things further yet either, as he rumbled a deep snore.

The both of you dozed for a little while, until a deep, reverberating groan in Sy’s chest roused you again. It was only then that you discovered your hips were rocking gently against your boyfriend’s cock, stirring up a heat that crashed through your body as soon as you became aware. A soft gasp left your lips, and Sy groaned louder, knowing you were awake.

“Ya gotta stop, or ‘m not gonna be able to let ya sleep anymore, bunny,” Sy rumbled, his voice far too warm with sleepy pleasure to sound the least bit warning. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his beard tickling your skin, and you smiled into his chest, enjoying the heat curling deliciously through your body.

Stretching up, you reached blindly for Sy’s mouth, your eyes still closed and, after some fumbling, managed to kiss your boyfriend good morning. His arms squeezed you tightly as you kissed lazily, knowing you had all the time in the world to spend the morning in bed together.

“Maybe I’m done sleeping, daddy,” you murmured against his mouth when you broke the kiss. You rolled your body more purposefully, grinding your naked pussy against the bulge in Sy’s boxers and delighted in his grunt of pleasure. “Maybe I wanna feel you stuff that big cock of yours deep in my needy pussy.” 

Sy rumbled a chastising sound. “Christ, the mouth ya got on ya, bunny,” he muttered. Still, he slid his big hand down between your bodies, cupping your pussy possessively and thrusting two fingers inside to test your readiness. You were wet and slick for him, and he dragged a moan from your lips while he fucked you. His tone managed some menace as he growled, “Maybe I should shove my cock into that filthy mouth of yours and show you what dirty girls get for rilin’ up their daddies.” 

“Nooo, please,” you begged, pouting up at him and fluttering your lashes in the way that had Sy’s cock twitching against your thigh, his precum leaking onto your soft skin. “I’m already so wet for you, daddy, would you really deny me when my tight little hole is dripping and begging for you?” 

With a tortured groan, Sy rolled you onto your back, his hips settling between your thighs and pushing you open wide with his broad body. Pulling his fingers from your pussy, he slipped them into your mouth, and you eagerly sucked your own arousal from his skin. 

“Good girl,” he rumbled, the hint of a smile curving his mouth. 

While you were busy cleaning his fingers, Sy shoved his boxers down and lined up his cock with your entrance. He smacked your messy folds with the heavy head of his cock, watching as your eyes went heavy lidded and you moaned around his fingers. He removed them from your mouth and grinned when you let out a desperate whine. 

“Daddy, please,” you begged on a gasp, writhing beneath your boyfriend’s broad form.

Thankfully, Sy wasn’t interested in any more teasing and he pushed into your needy, aching hole. Your back arched up off the bed and you let out a sharp cry, enjoying the feeling of his thick cock stretching out your tight cunt. No matter how many times he fucked you, it always felt like Sy was pressing the air from your lungs and rearranging your insides to make room to accomodate his fat cock.

“Feel so fucking good, bunny,” Sy groaned when he was buried inside you, his balls pressing against your ass. For a long moment, he stayed there, his eyes closing like he was savoring the tight warmth of your body. “Christ, I could live in your cunt—ya feel like you were made for me.”

He was so big and hard and hot inside you that you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, your knees climbing his sides so he could push even deeper into your cunt. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix and you moaned loudly, your inner walls gripping his hard length like your body wanted to suck him even deeper. You were practically folded in half beneath the beefy body of your boyfriend, but it wasn’t enough, you needed him to move, to fuck you—to empty his balls into you and fill you up with his seed.

“Be still.” The words were little more than an unintelligible growl from your Sy’s mouth. 

You whimpered, your hips rocking up against him, fucking yourself on his cock ever so slightly. Even if you wanted to stop, you didn’t think it was possible—not when you needed him so badly. “I can’t.” 

“Yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?” Sy’s hand gripped your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “If you don’t stop, I’m not going to be able to hold back,” he warned, his face grim with barely leashed desire. “I’m gonna flood your unprotected pussy with my come and I’m gonna knock you up—is that what you want?”

Even if you’d wanted to lie and tell him it wasn’t at all what you wanted, your body answered Sy’s question for you, your cunt squeezing his cock even harder, like you were wordlessly begging him to put a baby in your belly. But you knew your boyfriend would never do anything if you didn’t say the words, so you forced your mind to focus through the pleasure and delirious need to get the words out. 

“I want it, daddy,” you admitted on a whimper, crying out when Sy pulled back, only to surge forward and make your whole body shake with the force of his thrust. With your confession out in the open between you, it seemed to loosen your tongue and a flood of words fell from your lips. “I want you to knock me up, I want you to put a baby in me—your baby, Sy—I want you to make me a mommy, please, daddy!” 

“Jesus christ, bunny,” Sy ground out as he pounded into you, his hips slapping against your thighs while he thrust deep into your cunt. “Ya want daddy to breed you—ya wanna be daddy’s good little breeding bunny, huh?” 

“Yes, yes yes,” you cried, gripping Sy’s broad shoulders, your cunt squeezing his cock. You were so close. “Breed me, daddy—Sy, please—please!” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, pausing to reposition his hips. Then he was grinding against your clit with every brutal thrust into your cunt and it wasn’t long before you screamed your release. Your whole body clenched tight, making Sy groan like he was in pain as your pussy gripped his cock so hard, his release quickly followed yours. 

Sy captured your lips in a messy kiss, his beard burning your cheeks and chin as hips stilled. You felt his cock twitch deep in your fluttering cunt, and the rush of his come overflowing your pussy, dripping down your ass. You shivered and moaned into Sy’s mouth, your hands clinging to his shoulders and neck while your bodies came together in the most primal way possible.

When you were finally sated and the last of his come had been wrung from his cock, Sy rolled over onto his back, taking you with him. Your bodies were still connected, the evidence of your releases making a mess of the both of you. You sighed contentedly and snuggled into Sy’s chest, a happy smile on your face.

“I s’pose I should officially move in, huh?” Sy asked, a bit of playfulness seeping into his deep, satisfied drawl. 

“You better,” you muttered, putting a little poutiness into the words, which made Sy chuckle. Pushing yourself up, you gave Sy a kiss before pulling away and shooting him a stern look. “Then you might wanna start thinking about putting a ring on my finger,” you said pointedly, arching one of your brows.

Sy grinned so wide, it made his beard twitch. Without looking away from you, he opened the bedside table drawer and pulled something out. You didn’t see what it was until you felt him slip something onto your left ring finger. With a gasp, you finally looked away to see the pretty engagement ring he’d just put on you.

“Way ahead o’ ya, bunny,” he murmured, tipping your chin to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “Assuming it’s a yes, of course.”

You snorted. “Of course, it’s a yes,” you said, a giggle of joy in your tone. Then you kissed him again—and again and again and again. 

Eventually, you settled back down on Sy’s chest, unable to keep your eyes off the ring, turning your hand this way and that so you could admire the way it sparkled so prettily in the bright morning sunshine. Already, you were picturing a spring wedding—Sy would look so handsome in a suit beneath an arch of spring flowers…

Your head spun a little with how much your life had changed on that spring morning, but you couldn’t be happier. You were going to become Mrs. Syverson and start a family with your captain—but the best part was that you’d get to start every morning cuddling with the love of your life. 

And you couldn’t wait.

[milfloveer]

Proof of love ♡

Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader

Prompt: After y/n gets a little stressed about her and Sherlock's relation and— Well, Sherlock shows her how he really loves her ;)

Warnings: smut 18+ minors DNI, age gap (reader is in their 20s and Sherlock in his 30s), p in v, unprotected sex, fluff, creampie

A/n: I need Sherlock in my life so badly 😩

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚ ⊹ ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Sherlock and I just arrived home after attending a high society party so we could unfold more information about this recent case. Enola and Tewkesbury were there too, the first working on her case as well and the later was there on work behalf as he is a Lord and has his duties as one.

Enola was clearly bothered with all the feminine attention Lord Tewkesbury was given. I couldn't censure her as I was feeling the same towards Sherlock and all those ladies around him asking for a dance, their hands all over my man. Enola and I just rolled our eyes and focused on our cases ignoring each woman who approached the men.

•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•

Sherlock opened the door to his apartment and we walked in, I was clearly frustrated and it didn't slip Sherlock's gaze "You alright, darling?" he asks tenderly and cautiously.

I turn to him and see his concern "Yes, love, everything's alright." I say, even though I was lying. Those interactions all night long made me feel easily discarded and replaced.

Sherlock and I relationship was somewhat recent, we were only together for half a year and yet none of us dared to say those three simple words.

I can say that I care for him deeply, I got really attached to his personality, behaviour, the manner he works and thinks, his papers all around his apartment in a perfectly messy way, the way he played the violin when wanted to relax and get lost for a moment.

I truly fell for this exquisite detective, but I didn't dare to say those words to his face as I was afraid he wasn't feeling what I was. So I kept it to myself until now.

Sherlock frowns and follows me to our shared room "Darling, I know you and I can tell something is up." he says with concern in his voice as I try to unzip my dress, ending to ask him for help on it. He gladly does "Please talk to me." his voice wavering a bit making me look at him worriedly.

I sigh seeing his saddened face as I've never seen him like this. Getting closer to him I lay my hands, one on each side of his face and look deep into his eyes with tenderness "It is nothing important of concern, honey." I say softly, trying to brush it off.

But then again, Sherlock Holmes wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes without discovering the truth "It is concerning you and if it is concerning you, it is concerning me." he says pointing between us as he talks "Please, don't leave me in the dark, dove." he says while holding my gaze and I gave in and told him everything I was feeling at the party and when all the female attention is on him, how replaceable I feel, how dischargeable, how ridiculous.

I was now sitting at the end of our bed with my head hanging as my eyes freely released tears while looking at our hands interlocked on my lap "Oh, dear, why haven't you talked about this with me?" he asks caringly, I sniff and he brings his index finger and thumb to my chin, lifting it so I could look into those blue pools "I didn't want to overreact." I say barely above a whisper, he smiles softly "It's not overreacting dear and I assure you here that I have only eyes for you, my beautiful girl." he says as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek afterwards and cleaning the remaining of my tears with his thumb.

"Prove it then." I blurt out shocking myself with my boldness, but nonetheless Sherlock chuckles darkly making me shiver "With pleasure, darling." he says as he leans over me making me lay down on the mattress behind me.

Now hovering over me he caresses my sides teasingly as his lips brush mine. No words were said as he connects strongly and lovingly his lips to mine eliciting a moan from me. He starts lowering his hands as his lips move to my neck and collarbone, teasing and marking all the soft spots.

I was already on my undergarments making me start to take off his clothes as he's still fully clothed, first his jacket, then his tie and vest, his shirt and belt were now off and he pulled down his pants discharging them somewhere in the room.

"Please, I need you." I say tugging at the waistband of his underwear, he chuckles "Eager are we?" he asks making me flush as I nod. He frees himself as I take off of me the remains of my underwear.

Now both fully naked we scan each others body "You're so beautiful." he growls caressing my side with his fingertips before capturing my lips while aligning himself with my entrance. As he enters me my mouth falls open and a moan echoes through the room "Oh dear." he says against my ear, his arms each on either side of my body, his hands behind my back, flat on my shoulder blades as he moves lovingly in and out of me.

My legs wrap around his waist pulling him closer as my nails dig into his back certainly leaving some scratches over it. Both breathing heavily and moaning into each other's ears; I love this man so much.

Sherlock speeds up his pace hitting a wonderful spot inside me over and over "Yes, honey, don't stop!" I say gasping sensing the tension building up each time he pounds into me. He then gets on his knees bringing my legs up to rest on his shoulders, I cry out in pleasure as he groans pounding strongly "I'm so close, Sherlock." I say, my legs start to tremble with the feeling.

With a few more pushes and I'm taken over the edge, Sherlock following, spilling his seed into me "Ah, Sherlock!" I say pushing him down and kissing his lips eagerly and then softly. As he pulls away he brushes against my lips, whispering "I love you." I froze and look up at him "What?" I breathe out starstruck about his confession, his eyes widen as he realized he just confessed his feelings for me out loud.

I bring my hand to his cheek and caress it, I smile before letting out a soft chuckle as my eyes fill with happy tears. I lift my head so I could reach his slightly trembling lips and close the gap, the kiss is slow, tender and filled with love, as we were telling without words 'I love you'.

Slightly I pull away and whisper against his lips "I love you too." his eyes widen slightly hearing the words slip like honey from my mouth making me smile lovingly at the man still above me.

[sosa2imagines]

Theirs!

Imagine Walter Marshall is your neighbour and he's very much interested in you. But what you don't know is that he has a twin brother August Walker, who is equally much interested in you.

The brothers decide to share you. One is possessive and the other one is obsessed!

You being navie don't know the truth. At times you feel Walter is not being himself but you don't know that it's, his brother August.

You confront him, but he just waves it off.

The brothers don't like you having male friends. All hell breaks loose when they see you going out on a date.

That's it, enough of hiding. They hatch a plan. Next thing you know, you are waking up in a secluded cabin on a giant bed.

You see Walter entering the bedroom, you smile in relief, but that quickly turns into a frown when you see a lookalike standing next to him. That's when you get to know about the Walter having a twin brother.

Everything makes sense, why at times you felt him behaving different. You want to go, but they hold you back.

Before you know it, both of them are claiming you. Taking over your senses and resistance. The possessiveness and obsessiveness driving you crazy.

You are theirs now.

[cardierreh15]

Zeus Lament

Hold on to your fucking seats y’all! Things get messy! Both for good and for bad!

***I do not give anyone consent to repost, translate or copy my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Angst , Dub-Con Sex , Mind-Control/Mental Manipulation , Infidelity , Mentions of Cheating , Domestic Violence situation , Blood (Golden Celestial) , Nipple Stimulation , Cursing , Spitting , Breeding Kink , Oral (Female Receiving) , Death . PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!!

Pairings: Zeus/Walter Marshall x Angela's (Black!Plus Size Female)

Description: A terrible storm is approaching the city, wonder what could possibly be the cause?

Word Count: 5.8K

Song: Only RY X , Call out my name by The Weeknd.

The man sat across from his wife as she ate her fill and sipped on her wine. Everything but her beauty, disgusted him. But lately, even that was faltering. She was evil, jealous and spiteful. The infamous; Goddess of Marriage herself, Hera. 

‘You are quiet today husband.’ She said blandly as she took another sip of her wine to wash down the food in her throat. 

A reluctant smirk curled on his lips before he glanced away and shook his head. A small, hysterical chuckle left his lips before he rested his elbows on the golden table and rested his face in his palms. 

‘You speak to me as if you don’t know what you’ve done, wife.’ The word had poison behind it. It was no secret that Zeus had a loathe over his wife that no man or immortal had ever seen. Some would say with great reason! She’d proved herself to be murderous and invidious on many occasions. 

But, Zeus wasn’t in the right either. 

Sleeping around with mortals in different disguises to hide his true form; impregnating and soiling the oats that have been left untamed thousands of years ago. 

Perhaps, he’d driven her over the edge that she couldn’t retract from. 

Hera peeled her eyes away from her plate of food and glared up at her indignant husband. She tilted her head to the side gently, ‘What is it now, Zeus? You’re angry about that little “accident” that you’ve created? Many of what you’ve called them yourself.’ 

Zeus slammed his palm on the golden plated table, standing up to his feet with a baleful scowl written across his dramatic features. ‘THEY WERE MY CHILDREN!’

‘Your children are here!’ Hera spat hatefully. She had no remorse, no regret. ‘On Olympus where they belong. Not with those disgusting mongrels you call humans. Such a pathetic excuse for creations. Just like-’

‘I’d watch my next words, woman.’ His face, carved into perfection like stone and marble. Zeus stood up straight and swallowed hard. 

She stared back up at him, not breaking the glare. ‘Why do you do it? Why do you constantly put me  through this Zeus? Do you think I want to act the way I do? Do you think I thrive off of being bitter and hateful?! I am only this way because you made me this way!’ 

‘No, you only do this because you don’t give a damn about nobody but yourself!’ 

Hera grimaced and slowly stood to her feet, scooting her throne back behind her. ‘Selfish?! While I SIT HERE AND YOU GO OUT AND FROLIC ABOUT BETWEEN THE THIGHS OF THOSE VILE CREATURES!’ Golden tears filled her bright blue orbs. ‘I sit here and I wait for you, ZEUS!’

‘FOR WHAT!?’ he snapped back. Thunder began to roar beyond the walls. ‘DONT YOU UNDERSTAND?! I don’t want you! I haven’t wanted you in centuries! I only married you in the first place because it was a power move. You were a mistake–’

‘Mistake?! Zeus-’ 

‘You will address me as your King.’ He placed his hands on the table and peered across, ‘I won’t stop, Hera. I will not stop until I have found happiness and created a demi-God army of my own.’

‘Zeus-’

‘YOU WILL NOT STOP ME HERA!’ He exclaimed with great disdain in his voice. He began to round the table slowly, his golden heeled sandals clicking and echoing within the walls. 

Hera snatched up the golden blade she’d used to cut into her roasted goose. 

As soon as she found a good grip around the handle, he’d snatched her up by her throat looking down into her eyes. 

‘Ugh!’ She exclaimed at the sudden roughness. Golden tears had fallen down the sides of her face. 

‘If you interfere with my affairs again, My Queen.’ The word burned the back of his throat. Oh he’d do anything to strip her from that title. Hell, he really did hate her enough to kill her himself. She’d taken so much away from him. 

‘I will kill you… do you understand?’ 

Hera turned her gaze away from him, but he tightened up his grasp. 

Her lips trembled as she looked up into his stormy eyes. ‘You wouldn’t dare…’ she choked out. 

‘Then you don’t know me the way you think you do.’ He added monitorily. His warnings always went undone. Leaving ample room for Hera to continue to disobey him. 

He shoved her away from him before the both of them heard the small call of their youngest daughter, Hebe. 

‘Mama?’

She looked over at the massive golden doors that were cracked open. There she spotted the little face of the tiny goddess. Hera cleared her throat and put on her best smile, ‘Hebe. Darling-’ She approached her with open arms. 

The young one pushed the door open a little further before running towards her mother who was now on her knees. 

‘You’re supposed to be resting my sweet.’ 

‘I couldn’t sleep, mama.’ 

Zeus watched the mother speak to their daughter before he quickly spun off and walked towards the second set of double doors. 

***

The dark clouds loomed up above. Lightning bolts scattered across the sky like veins. The wind blew hard enough to almost tear her apartment building off of the support beams! 

Storms were quite the norm where Angela was from. The lightning capital of the world, Tampa, Florida. She’d lived through countless hurricanes and tropical storms. 

The news measured it out to be a tropical storm, the first one of the season. But something about this particular storm was different than the rest. 

Thunder shook the floor beneath her feet, causing her to stop in her tracks and wait for it to calm down. Angela had never been so anxious during a storm. Hell, this was her favorite kind of weather! But she had a gut feeling something bad was going to happen. 

The woman ripped open the big bag of ice and poured it into the cooler. Then, she began to stock perishable snacks and foods inside of it. 

Once she was done, she did a head count of her 5 gallon dispenser jugs, found her waterproof flashlight with batteries and made sure she had candles.

Angie placed her hands on her hips and gave herself a firm nod, ‘Alright! What could possibly go wrong?’ Another vociferous thunder clap erupted outside, causing lightning to flicker inside of her apartment. Then, the lights flickered off. 

The power died, causing an eerie silence to fill the air. ‘Dammit, running my mouth. I just fucked the whole building.’ She rolled her eyes and picked up her phone. The battery was on 11%. ‘What?!’ She exclaimed as she looked at the charger adaptor that had never been plugged up into the wall. 

‘You’ve got to be shitting me.’ 

She turned on the light on her phone and loaded up the flashlight with batteries and put her phone on Low Power Mode. Clicking the power on the flashlight. She walked down the hall to the electric breaker and pulled it open. 

Shining the light on the labeled switches, she shifted them to the side one and then back to their original places. But nothing. She assumed whatever generator the apartments management used had gone to shit. 

‘Cheap fucks’ she hissed before the flashlight began to flicker. ‘Uh uh! No, no!’ She began to bang on it, hoping it would keep its power but when it died, she let out a heavy huff. ‘Dammit.’

Angela walked back into the kitchen and began to light candles. 

Once the apartment was decorated with artificial light, she walked into her bedroom and took off her dress. 

She walked over to her dresser, lightning taking its own place in her room this time. Again, thunder followed. Not able to stand the blinding brightness, she walked over to the patio doors to close them. But what she saw in her backyard frightened her. 

Air lodged in her throat so she was unable to breathe out or in, she stared at the tall, dark figure that stood in the grass. Heavy, slanted rain blurred out its features but by the size of its shoulders, it had to be a man. 

Whatever the hell it was… it was massive. 

‘Close. The blinds. Angela. Close the blinds.’ She choked before quickly pulling the stick to the side and twisting them closed. 

Stumbling backwards, she let out a shuddered breath. She was afraid to walk to the kitchen and grab her phone; having the slightest belief that somehow the uncanny being would find its way inside without any aid. 

So, she just sat on the bed and stared. 

‘Wooo. It’s OK. Ain’t nobody gonna come out here in this rain…’ she uttered to herself and pulled her comforter back and tucked her chilly legs beneath. 

Every once in a while she would toss and turn. But she always brought her attention back to the blinds. Her anxiety wouldn’t let her rest for a while, until she just closed her eyes and counted. 

*** 

Zeus stood in the shadows of her bedroom. Lightning flickering across his face as he watched the mortal woman sleep soundly. Her soft snores could barely be heard over the rain that beat down against the glass slide door. 

Stepping from the safety of the darkness, Zeus crept over to her bed. His fingertips grazed atop the silky, bronze colored sheets. Once he made it to her, his bright blue eyes searched her face. 

She was a beauty to behold. Full lips, skin brown as cherry wood. Lashes so thick they almost looked like paint brushes. Then, it was her hair. Sprawled out beneath her it was coily and thick. He leaned down carefully, nuzzling his nose within the warmth of her hair. He inhaled deeply, slowly. Taking in her scent. She smelled of Rosemary and Lavender. Two scents he could get lost in forever. 

Pulling away, he grazed his pointy nose over her wide one before gently pressing his lips against hers. Letting his lips settle there, his mustache and beard tickled her chin and nose. Causing her to stir out of her sleep. 

Angela’s dark brown eyes flashed open to see the intruder with a beard and thick dark curly hair hovering over her. Her first reaction was to scream but instead Zeus had tricks of his own. 

‘Shhh, don’t scream.’ 

Her eyes reflected once in gold as she inhaled so hard she thought her head would explode. 

Zeus’ eyes continued to roam her face before traveling down to her neck and then the valley of her breasts. 

‘Wh-who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?’ Angela’s voice was rugged and shaky. But she was careful not to be too loud. 

‘Something you would never be able to comprehend mortal woman.’ His voice was much gentler than how he spoke to Hera just a few days before. 

His eyes broke from her gaze as he carefully ran his palm over her silky flesh; starting from her belly to her thighs but also pulling the blanket off in the process. Revealed onto him was her half naked body, dressed in a white sports bra and matching thong. 

Angela flinched at his cool touch, quickly shifting her hips away from him. ‘Don’t touch—‘ 

‘Don’t fight me.’ He hissed as thunder shook the apartment once again. 

Just like before, she followed his command willingly. She just laid there with tears in her eyes as his large hands began to caress her chubby thighs. ‘Wh-what are you g-gonna do to me?’ Angela stammered. 

‘Anything I please…’ he licked his lips as he looked up at her once again. She was silently sobbing. Tears falling into place of the last on the sides of her head. His thick brows pulled into one before he leaned back over her once again, ‘Oh my sweet one… don’t cry.’ 

Her sobs instantly stopped. 

‘Don’t you know how lucky you are? How special you are?’ Zeus brought his hand up and smooth out her cheek with his knuckles. Then, his index grazed her bottom lip. ‘You don’t have to be scared of me… I won’t hurt you.’

‘I—I have a boyfriend.. we’ve been dating for 3 years and—‘ she lied. ‘And-and he’ll be here soon!’ 

‘Oh? In this weather?’ Zeus said softly as he gently pinched her chin. ‘How romantic or jus plain stupid.’ He purred softly. ‘Tell me sweetheart, have you ever fuck a God?’ 

Angela’s eyes grew slightly, his words rocking her core, ‘N-‘

‘I didn’t think so… you see Angel. You need someone who’s gonna take care of you. In more ways than just… one.’ His index dropped to the valley of her breasts. 

A God?! What the hell was a God doing in her apartment? And why her out of all people? 

‘A God? There’s no way—‘ 

Zeus stared down into her eyes, his eyes flickering a bright gold for a second before fading back to their stormy blue. 

‘Oh my—‘ 

‘Zeus…’ 

Angela stared up at him; her eyes were a cauldron of fear, disbelief, and slight adoration. She had never seen something— something so graceful. So beautiful. ‘B-but why me?’ 

‘Well isn’t it obvious my little love? I have been watching you for weeks. That little inkling you felt of being watched.. It was me. I have been in your corner. You have enough beauty to my own daughter to shame.’ 

Aphrodite would not like that at all. She was much like her mother. Scorned to hell.

‘You’ve been stalking me?!’ 

‘Stalking, watching? Call it whatever you’d like. Fact of the matter is … you’re mine.’ 

His words nestled within her soul, causing whatever frightened feeling she had left to dissipate. In an instant, she felt protected. Perhaps it was his magic, controlling her mind and messing with her chemical imbalances. Whatever it was… it made her feel good. 

Zeus leaned down once again, lips almost touching hers. ‘Let me have you.’ 

Closing her eyes, ‘Yes.’ She uttered before parting her lips to welcome him in a kiss. 

Without another moment wasted, Zeus took her lips into his. He slithered his thick tongue into her mouth as his hand slithered down between her thighs. He grasped the thin fabric into his fist and tugged it; instantly tearing it to shreds. 

Angela’s fingers instantly found their way in his soft thick, dark locks which seem never ending. She barely noticed the absence of her panties until he was pushing her thighs part. The warmth from ecstasy was keeping her warm until he pressed his cold fingertips against her sensitive nub. 

‘Ooh.’ She gasped softly, her hips buckling for a second. ‘Cold.’

‘Forgive me little love.’ He began to rub at her core before slipping his middle and ring inside of her sticky entrance. 

Angela shuddered out in a moan, goosebumps prickling all over her skin, nipples hardening against her thin bra. 

She ripped her eyes away from his haunting gaze and looked down to watch him knead her from the inside out. She gripped the sheets beneath her. Her chest caving in as she tried to breathe through the pleasure. She wanted so badly to do something with her legs, kick and flail them about but she was still under his command. Don’t fight me. 

‘Ugh!’ She exclaimed as Zeus curled his fingers up and toyed with her G-spot. 

A wicked grin curled on his face as he watched her writhe and buck her hips into his embrace. He pressed his forehead against hers. 

Angela opened her mouth to speak but her words instantly became gibberish and a bed of incoherent moans. 

‘If you want it my sweet, all you have to do is ask.’ 

She felt her lower belly twist and knot, causing her thighs to clench as she felt her climax creeping up. It felt so close yet, so far. Wait, was he controlling that?! 

‘Can I — can I cum, please?’ She placed her hand on his shoulder, her nails gently digging into it through the cloth of his shirt. 

Zeus chuckled menacingly, ‘As you wish.’ 

His words were like some kind of invisible trigger, she was the chemical reaction that shifted the bullet in place and fired off the gunpowder. 

Angela inhaled hard before a satisfied scream erupted from her lungs. Her head fell back against her plush pillow, body trembling as she tried to comprehend that kind of intensity. 

He finally pulled his fingers from the warm home of her. ‘I can provide you with so much more. Would you like that?’ His sticky fingers grazed her neck. 

‘Yes. I-I need you.’ 

That stomach twisting smile curled up once again against his beard. He was to die for. 

Zeus stood up, bringing her small hand in his grasp and bringing her up to her feet. Her legs wobbly from the previous assault on her womb and cunt. 

‘Then you have me, my little love.’ 

He towered over her like a mountain. Him sitting on her bed made him seem so much smaller that way. Zeus leaned down, pressing his lips against hers once more as his clothes disappeared. 

She wrapped her arms around his wide frame as he pulled her chubby body against toned muscles. Angela pulled away from the kiss. Her big brown eyes trailed from his face to his shoulders, and abdomen. ‘Wow…’ her hands slipped from his shoulders and down his abdomen. ‘You’re really… real.’

‘As real as you are my love.’ 

She wasn’t expecting a God, no— the infamous King Of Gods to be so… kind. History made him out to be a spineless shithead. But this being before him was everything but that. 

Or was that what he was making her think? 

‘Lay back. Get comfortable.’ 

Following his command, Angela sat back down on her bed and laid back against her pillows. 

Zeus stood at the end of the bed before crawling in and spreading her thighs. He lowered his head between her legs as he rested on his front side. Then, he planted soft kisses on her inner thighs, navigating his lips to her flower. 

He placed the flattening of his tongue on her slit before lapping up slowly until he found her clit and brought it between his lips. 

‘Mmmm, yess.’ She moaned out as she reached down and found her fingers intertwined in his locks once again. 

He sucked teasingly on her clit before letting it go with a pop, then flicking his tongue over it. He used her pussy as if it were her mouth instead. Licking, and kissing with passion and a purpose. 

‘Ooooh Zeus just like that. Mmmm.’ Angela moaned as she rolled and rocked her hips into his face.

Her words only fueled his desire and want for her. He grabbed her thighs and pushed them back so he could satisfy her in a more efficient way. More exposed, Zeus was about to dip his tongue within her walls and lick her from the inside out. Every once in a while though, his tongue would slip and tickle at her puckered asshole.

Angela leaned up on her elbows, her breathing shallow as she watched this celestial being indulge on her body in the most sinful of ways. He was just wicked in that way. Honestly, if it weren’t for the immense pleasure he was inflicting upon her– she would’ve thought this was a dream. ‘Uhhh fuck!’ 

Zeus relished in her taste. She tasted the most delectable of forbidden treats. He wanted to keep his face buried between her thighs for as long as the Earth rotated but the way his hips grind against the bed to soothe his aching member… Zeus was more than ready to claim her. 

Letting out a gentle grunt at the pleasure that burned at his lower gut, Zeus’ lips ghosted her inner thigh before placing a gentle kiss there. 

She had just begun to recover from her profound orgasms. Her thighs trembled, almost mimicking the sound of thunder outside. ‘Oh! Fuu—‘ 

Zeus brought himself up on his knees. His naked body resembled the ancient marble that were carved in Greece thousands of years ago. Except that one particular thing. 

Humans once believed that men that wielded such large members lacked intelligence and were compared to violent, brainless, sex-crazed creatures.

Actually, Zeus’ cock had been tampered to be quite the insignificant thing but now… it was no wonder he made stupid decisions.

With distinguishable veins traveling over his Adonis belt, that was a sign of healthy blood flow. He was hung like nothing she’d ever seen. The whole package really. 

‘Jesus- oh… I mean…’ Angela whimpered softly as she finally pulled her eyes away from his cock. ‘Wow… you are… not what I expected.’ 

Zeus smirked and began to crawl over her, closing that gap between them. ‘You’ve must’ve seen the statues. Are you afraid?’ His smile had grown slightly bigger. 

She let out a soft breath. Well, she had a lot of reasons to be afraid right now. One of them being that a celestial God that had been known for his treachery was laying between her legs! 

‘Mmm. No.’ She lied again. 

‘Then we shall make haste.’ He said before helping her get her sports bra from over her head. Her breasts were so round, large and supple. His tongue traced over his lips as he tried to calm the beast that was so desperately fighting to get free. 

Then, his eyes flicked up back to hers, ‘Are you ready my sweet?’ 

Swallowing hard, Angela nodded as her hands gently rested against his cool muscular back. 

Zeus had given her a sly smile before adjusting his hips. His thick bell shaped tip against her honey coated pussy. And before he made the final blow, he pressed his lips against hers. Their tongues slipped in one another’s mouth once again for a short moment before he pulled away slightly. 

‘Bite down on me if it hurts…’ 

Angela nodded one more time before bringing him back into another kiss. 

As they kissed, Zeus thrusted his hips forward only slipping just the tip in. A wince left his chest as he felt the piercing pain of her biting down into his bottom lip. It was too late to pull back now. So he began to sink his hips into her further. This earned him a loud wail from her but the piercing continued. 

Gritting his teeth to bear the pain, Zeus let out a groan as he went as deep as he possibly could. 

Angie had released his hold on his lips and looked up at him with terror in her eyes. Half from the brutal stretch and half from his lips and beard coated in shiny gold blood. 

‘Ugh! — Oh My— Zeus, is that? My God— you’re bleeding!’ 

Zeus pressed his fingers against his lips and examined it, ‘Yes. It appears that I am.’

‘Well, are you alright?!’ She exclaimed in worry. 

He couldn’t help the gentle feeling that came over him. The feeling of knowing someone cared for him. He knew that his wife did… but not in the way he felt from Angela. Hera only wanted her throne and position of power. She’d otherwise be nothing without him. But, Angela… no other human woman had shown such compassion and kindness. Even if… some of this was against her will. 

‘I’m fine my little mortal… see?’ 

Zeus brushed his thumb over his wounds and they healed in an instant. Only the blood remained and would serve as a reminder that he could also be hurt too. 

Letting out a breath in relief she grabbed his face and pressed the back of her hand against his bearded jaw. 

He brought back his hips slowly and steadily before thrusting forward once again. He held back a moan that always slipped between his lips. 

But Angela let out a whimper as her nails dug into his flesh a little. 

Zeus soon began to pick up the rhythm of his hips, creating a bit more friction. Now he wasn’t holding back his moans. She felt way too good to front over. 

Angela felt so uncomfortably full at first but then a surge of pleasure began to pump through her body like drugs. She’s had great sex before but nothing could compare to this! Her standards have completely changed and if it wasn’t him… then she didn’t want it. 

‘Ooooo! Zeus, fuck that’s so fucking good baby. Haaa! Don’t stop!’

‘Uhhhh. I’m not my love, we can go for as—URGH! As long as you like.’ 

Their moans echoed throughout her room and was enough to combat the lightning that was striking nearby and the thunder that shook the building. They were in a world of their own at this point. 

Zeus brought up Angela’s thigh and rested her leg over his shoulder. He began to pump deeper, harder and faster. ‘Ooh fuck… you feel so fucking amazing.’ He moaned out before leaning down and wrapping his lips around her hardened nipple. 

‘Zeus, just like that—‘ her fingers slipped through his hair as his tongue tickled and teased over the sensitive flesh. She could feel her womb twisting and turning just the same as it did earlier. ‘Mmm, I’m so close. Fuuuuuuck!’ She called out.

He’d begun to pump his hips faster, groaning and grunting against her breast. 

Her thighs began to tremble as an ineffable climax rocked through her, ‘AUGHHH! FUCK!’ She cried out. 

Leaving one last lick to her nipple, Zeus slowed down his thrusts and brought her lips back in for another kiss as he moaned against them. ‘Fuck you’re so warm. I can stay buried inside you forever.’ He growled before placing wet kisses under her chin and her neck. 

A sheepish grin was casted on Angela’s lips as she just tried to process that vehement orgasm that she’d just passed. Her lips quivered and her chest heaved as she gently clawed down the valley of his spine. ‘Mmmm, My God… I want you here forever.’ 

Zeus began to pick up the pace of his hips once more as his lips began to make their way back up to hers once again. He couldn’t get enough of how she tasted. He couldn’t remember the last time he and The Queen kissed. Probably centuries ago when Hebe was born. Other than the birth of his sweet child, The Goddess of Youth, there was no other reason to remember that day. 

After sending Angela in a whirlwind of mind-bending orgasms, he pulled away to stand on his knees. ‘Lay on your front side.’ On command, she rolled over and got comfortable. He leaned down to press kisses on her shoulder before his cleft nose drug across her misty, prickly skin. She smelled so good and she felt so warm. 

He carefully spread her thighs with his knees as he sat back up. Stroking his throbbing cock, he used his hand to navigate her entrance this time. Time wasn’t wasted this go around, so he thrusted his hips forward into her. 

The both of them let out a synchronized groan; Zeus threw his head back; quickly coming to his senses that he would not last long in this position. He had the perfect bird’s eye view of her ass and his cock sliding in and out. He was no better than a mortal man now. 

‘Mmmm.’ Angela groaned, feeling so much pressure and pleasure against her wet walls. She began to grip the sheets in her fist, knowing that it was going to be a bumpy ride.

Zeus caressed his hands up from her thick thighs to her chubby waist. There, he gripped tightly before he started to accelerate. ‘Ugh, shit- yeah. Haaaah.’ He groaned as he thrusted hard and fast. 

Her pretty dark brown eyes rolled to the back of her head as she could already feel her body betraying her once more. ‘Fuck yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes! ZEUS!’ Angela whined out. She slipped her hand beneath herself and began to toy with her clit as he destroyed her from behind. 

The glorious sounds of her angelic songs and his skin crashing and pounding against hers fueled his desire once more. His eyes had shifted from their humanly blue to the color of the blistering sun. His moans were deeper and inhuman. He sounded more of a beast now than he did of a man. Beads of sweat prickled across his forehead, shoulders and his torso. 

His grip on Angela’s hip grew tighter as he reached over and gripped her ponytail, pinning her into her pillow. 

‘Ooh right there baby! Fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum again. Oooh shit!’ 

And just like the flip of a switch, she’d turn into putty in his grasp. But this only encouraged him to keep going. Not like the last time when he decided to give her a break. No, he wanted to rip those orgasms away from her and have her crawling come morning. 

‘OOH DEAR FUCKING– ZEUS!’ Angela wept; tears had soon fallen down the side of her face. 

‘Uh huh! Call out for your God baby.’ 

Orgasm after orgasm, Zeus’ thrusts had become staggered and arrhythmic. He was losing the battle. So, he rested his body atop hers and slowly began to thrust his hips into her. ‘Angela…fuck. I’m gonna give you– ugh! Such a beautiful baby.’ 

She didn’t think, and perhaps she thought he wasn’t serious but when she pressed her ass into him as he nestled deep inside her.

She was sadly mistaken. 

‘UH! FUCK– GAAAHHH!’ 

Zeus had finally unraveled, releasing thick and rich ropes of semen inside of her. He throbbed, gently stretching her out as he bred her. His body shook as the thunder roared with a vengeance outside. ‘Uh…’ He couldn’t speak. 

Angela rolled her hips beneath him, milking him from everything he had. She looked back at him just in time to see his golden hues disappear in the darkness of his ghostly blues. His thick curls were slightly damp from the work out and his parted lips had turned up into a relieved smile. Angela returned the smile and stretched her neck up to kiss him. 

***

The Next Morning… 

Her eyes fluttered open, her tired eyes fixated on the ceiling for a moment. She groaned softly as she slowly turned over to see an empty side of the bed. It was messy, and a telltale sign that he was once here.

She placed her hand on the vacant sheets and ran her hand over them. Still warm… it was then when she’d noticed that her patio blinds were open. The sun had beamed in on that empty space and kept it heated. 

Funny, she had her blinds closed and her window was open across the room. 

Suddenly, she heard a booming voice… deep with a pretty and very familiar accent. 

‘Zeus.’ She uttered excitedly as she scooted herself out of her King sized bed and wrapped the sheets around her. Almost losing her footing, she rushed out her room and down the hall where the voice became distinguishable. He was here! Wow, he was still here! 

Cutting the corner, there he stood in her kitchen with a phone pressed against his ear. He flashed her a bright smile and a wink. 

Returning the gracious smile, her eyes roamed down to his belt where a flashy police badge rested on his hip. Confusion instantly struck her and her smile had faltered. She managed to walk up behind him and sneak his wallet out of his back pocket. When she opened it up, she felt as if air had been snatched out of her lungs. 

Walter Marshall. DOB: 05/05/1983. Issued Date: 07/23/2020 Expiration Date: 05/05/2026 

‘What are you doing with that?’

Almost jumping out of her skin, ‘Huh?’ She looked down at his wallet and looked back up at him. He folded his arms across his massive chest. He’d had this slightly amused smirk curled up on those lips. ‘I-... I don’t know -just…’ She just handed it back to him and swallowed her spit. 

‘Mmmm, maybe you need more rest. You worked double last night, I’m surprised you’re awake!’ He reached over and placed a kiss on her temple. 

‘Double?’

‘Yeah? At the hospital? The storm came in and almost destroyed the city.’ Now confusion was written on his face. 

And they were confused together. 

‘...The hospital. Alright… And you were?’

‘I was at the precinct. They had us shelter in place… hey, what’s going on are you feeling alright, Ang?’ 

Angela cleared her throat and let out a sigh. She was just about to tell him about this crazy dream she’d had until she saw a little frame of them on the bartop. She was dressed in a gorgeous white dress and he wore this chic black and white tuxedo. His beard was gone and his hair was cut to perfection. 

She quickly brought up her left hand, gazing at the big sparkly teardrop diamond that sat delicately on her finger. My, it was by far the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. 

Suddenly, a flood of memories brought her back to her current reality. Perhaps the impact of working so hard and that storm had her a little delusional. 

‘I’m alright, Walter. I just had this… crazy dream.’ 

‘Hmph, must’ve been! Here, let’s talk about it over breakfast-’

‘NO!’

Walter paused for a second as his thick brows pulled into one.

‘It’s just… Has someone ever told you that you kind of favor Zeus?’

His cheekbones turned pink and glanced to the side, ‘You mean Zeus like the God?’

She nodded. 

‘No, mama. Is that what your dream was about, baby? I was a Greek God?’

When he said it, she just felt so damn stupid. She was embarrassed for even bringing it up. ‘Just forget it.. I don’t want to talk about it.’ 

Walter reached over and grabbed her hand, ‘Aw baby girl, don’t be embarrassed. C’mon we’ve all had silly dreams before… tell me what happened.’ He pulled her close and placed a kiss on her cheek. 

‘Well… we… erm.’ 

He tilted his head to the side as his large hands traced up and down her body. 

Angela cleared her throat as she looked up at him, ‘We were–..’

‘Would you like to show me what we did in the dream? You know I've always learned better by touch and physical interaction.’ 

She stared up at him as a slow grin curled up on her lips. ‘As tempting as that sounds baby, um… i think you’re burning the bacon.’ 

And on cue, the smoke alarm blared in the kitchen. Dark gray smoke floated up to the ceiling. 

‘Shit!’ Walter exclaimed as he gently pushed her away and rushed to the stove. He choked as the stench burned at his throat and lungs. He reached over and turned off the knob and let out a gentle sigh.

‘Woman you’re a distraction…’ He turned half way with a gentle smile on his lips, ‘Get some clothes on. We’re going to breakfast. My treat.’

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she gave him a smile in approval, ‘If there are grits involved then I’m in.’ 

‘Good, I know a spot.’ He said with a smirk, watching her glide back in their bedroom. 

His smirk instantly faded, the glow of gold reflected in his gaze. 

He picked up the pan that was now coated in black soot and threw the scraps in the trash. Then, he dropped the pan in the sink. 

Walter squirted some dish soap over the scrubber and began to do away with the burnt food. Suddenly, a  soft yellow light glowed in his peripheral. He paused his movement, ‘As what do I owe the pleasure,’ he lifted his head, ‘Hera.’ 

The Goddess stood tall, her eerie gaze reflected in her eyes. Her blonde hair had specks of gold in her locks. She wore a royal white satin toga with gold trimmings. Nose and lips swollen and pink from all of the sobbing. He’d been gone for days. Living a fantasy that he’d created. 

‘The children ask of you, Zeus.’ 

‘The children are old enough to take care of themselves. And I thought I told you to address me as, Your King.’ He gently brought a dirty knife from out of the sink and placed it in his belt. 

Hera inhaled deeply, and watched him round the counter to join her in the dining room. ‘It’s Hebe. She misses you… I… miss you. Why can’t you come home? Why can’t you be with your real family? You don’t belong here.’ 

‘And you know where I belong?’

‘Why must you be so cantankerous?! You have a family. And it is your duty as a father, as a King, as a God—‘ 

‘My family is… here. I have everything I could possibly want here. Those insubordinate, spoiled and treacherous adults you call children—‘ 

‘You don’t talk about them that way!’ She exclaimed with tears filling her eyes once more. 

‘I will talk of them however I want. Now, I know when I left Olympus I told you not to stand in my way… and yet you come here… you disturb me.’ He walked closer to her as she took a few steps back. ‘What should I tell our children once they discover that you’re dead hmm.’ 

‘Zeus..’ she trembled as a tear fell down her face, ‘Please… it doesn’t have to be like this.’ 

‘Oh but my vindictive wife… it does. See— you have pushed me away for centuries.. you don’t truly love me. Not really, only when I lie with other women— that’s the only time you actually give a damn. In the meantime, you’ve taken everything’ Zeus hissed through his teeth — ‘from me. Now I have everything I want… and you won’t ever come in between that ever again.’ 

‘My King. Please, I will leave — I will — ugh!’ Hera gasped as she felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her ribs. She hiccuped before looking down to see Zeus’ hand on the handle of a kitchen butcher knife, with the blade delved between her rib cage. ‘Hyuck!’ 

‘Ive started with you, My Queen… my new wife will take your place on the throne and I will rid my bloodline of those foul, demented children you claim belong to me. They will join you soon.’ Zeus snatched the blade from the wound and watched her fall to her knees. 

Hera collapsed on her back; wheezing as her golden blood leaked from her nose and gargled out the side of her mouth. ‘Mmm—mmm.’ She held onto her wound tightly. 

Zeus squatted down, pushing her golden locks out of her face, ‘Don’t fight love. Death is such a beautiful thing. Peaceful if I might add.’ A deranged smile curled on his lips as he watched her take her last breath with a final tear falling down her face. 

Her bright golden eyes had faded to a lifeless gray, her hair turned gray as heavy rain clouds and her once lively skin was deathly pale. 

He pressed his lips together and inhaled deeply, ‘GoodBye Hera.’ 

‘Hey honey I was think—‘ 

Angela had walked down the hallway, plugging her earrings into her ears when she saw the gruesome sight. Her heart had sunk to the pit of her stomach and her mouth had fallen open in shock. 

Zeus snapped his head over his shoulder to look back at her. His eyes still shined their brilliant gold and he still held that bloodied knife in his grip. He defensively stood to his feet. 

‘Wh-wh-wh-‘ she began to hyperventilate. She grabbed the chest of her shirt in her fist as if she could grab her heart itself. Angela stumbled back as tears filled her eyes with fear. 

‘Ooooh my sweet petal.’ He smirked as he tossed the blade to the floor, then his eyes returned to their gentle blue, ‘You weren’t supposed to see that.’

‘That?!’ She gasped, ‘Oh my god— the dream… it was true! It was real! You’re toying with me!’ 

Zeus inhaled deeply, slowly blinking once, ‘As real as you are… you’ve no need to be afraid of me. I told you I’d protect you and I intend on keeping my promise, wifey.’ He brought his hand up, flashing the golden wedding band on his finger. 

‘Who is that woman on my floor?’ Angie shuddered out, placing her hand on her stomach to mellow out her queasiness. 

‘Oh… her? If you must know… Hera. She was my wife. Former Queen.’ 

Angela gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, ‘Wh—what did you do?! Why did you do that to her?!’ 

‘She sought to kill you, woman. Why must you question me!? I SAVED YOUR LIFE!’ 

‘And how do you know?!’

‘BECAUSE I KNOW HER!’ Zeus exploded, ‘Every chance she got to make me miserable and take away those who are near and dear to me, she did and without contrition! In a few days time she would’ve inflicted some rare form of cancer upon you or had one of her loyal servants come and slit your throat or worse…’

‘W-worse?’ Angela murmured. 

Zeus’ tearful gaze had fallen upon her belly before looking down. ‘You are with child, Angela. My child.’ 

Angela gasped at the news, tears filling her eyes and quickly spilling over. ‘No, no. That can’t be!’ 

‘It is Angela and I eliminated her so our child could have the best possible chance to grow and succeed in the future… so I can have the proper heir… from a woman that I truly love and truly adore— Angela, don’t you get it?’ 

He took a step forward and she took a step back. 

‘This. Is. destiny. A start of a new era, a new beginning… I never intended to be with Hera. I never loved her… she doesn’t make me feel the way you do.’ 

A sob ripped through Angela’s chest, ‘And how am I to make you feel? I’m just a mere stranger you came and took advantage of!’ 

‘No! No. You’re much more than that my little love… you make me feel… human. Gentle… fair.’ He approached her carefully with his hands out. ‘My entire ruling as King of Gods, I’ve been used… abused in all aspects of the word… I’ve never been treated normally… but being here with you, Angela. You make me feel heard. When you look at me I don’t see anger or hate.’ 

Angela looked up at him as she wiped her nose with her wrist and sniffed. 

‘I see a bright future,’ he added as he took her hands into his, ‘Where you sit by my side as my Queen… and we rule Olympus and the Overworld… just the way it’s intended to be. Just—‘

She stared up at him, not able to form words because she was so consumed by fear and confusion.  ‘I could make you a Goddess. Make all your dreams come true my little love… just say… yes.’

tags: @critfailroll @itsrubberbisquit @peternoonewantsthat @ellethespaceunicorn @deandoesthingstome @luxeydior @wa-ni @milknhonies @swiss-mrs @angreav @singeramg @ylva-syverson @amesensibles @ramp-it-up @lainiespicewrites @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019

[hederasgarden]

Dad!Captain Syverson Headcanons

I was inspired to write about Captain Syverson as a dad by @augustsprincess beautiful illustration.

Warnings for some smutty talk at the beginning. 18+ only. Thanks to @ryebecca for looking this over.

I’m happy to tackle other HC characters as dads if there is interest. Send me an ask!

We all know Sy has a breeding kink a mile wide.

There’s nothing he loves more than coming inside you again and again and stuffing you full of him. He also likes to stay buried in you as long as possible to keep you plugged up. When he finally does pull out he’ll get between your legs and push his cum back inside with his fingers while he rubs your thigh with his other hand.

Even though you’re exhausted, there’s something about the sight of him looking up at you with that hungry glint in his eye that makes you ready to go again. When you lift your hips towards his face he smiles.

“That’s not how you make a baby, sweetheart,” he growls, climbing back on top of you again.

Once you’re pregnant, Sy’s over the moon and telling anyone he can. He brings home all the pregnancy books that night, spending his evenings pouring over them with a little frown on his face. He writes down a dozen or more questions for your first OB appointment. He definitely annoys the sonographer when you’re far along enough to see one, practically leaning over her shoulder to see the screen.

Sy researches baby items like he’s planning an military incursion. You never knew someone could have that many options about car seats and baby bottles.

When it comes to your growing belly and expanding cup size, he’s feral. He wants you all the time after the doctor promises him sex won’t hurt the baby. You don’t even have time to wonder if you’re getting too fat or frumpy because his hands are on you all the time and he’s heaping on the praise.

Also, if you thought he was protective before you haven’t seen anything yet. He becomes hyper-vigilant about you and his little cub, to the point it probably causes a few fights and makes you feel suffocated. You definitely have an emotional breakdown or two that he has zero idea how to handle. Defusing an IED is child’s play compared to navigating your emotional changes. That’s usually when he resorts to food and foot rubs.

Once the baby arrives he’s on it. You don’t even change a single diaper until your son is two months old. If you’re breastfeeding, Sy’s there with snacks and water. If you’re formula feeding, he’s got everything prepped and ready to go.

The best thing about Sy as a dad though? It’s the way he looks at his son. The sheer awe and love you see in his eyes as his big fingers trace the delicate lines of your newborn’s face. And the way he looks at you with so much pride, love, and devotion? Well, is it any wonder your son gets a little sister a year later?

[peyton-warren]

Blinded By The Fog Chapter 7

Characters: Reader, Jolene, Aubrey Clay(OC), Madre Alverez (OC) and Captain Syverson Pairings: Reader x Syverson, Jake Jensen x Reader Word count: 3322 Type: angst and fluff Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. guilt, self-depreciation, self-doubt, loss of spouse and found family, swearing, weensy bit of smooching and subtle(?) affection. Summary: Reader panics when Sy arrives at Madre's for dinner and she is faced with talking to him about what happened a week before, and his history with Clay's daughter.

Author's Note: Thank you to @adulting-sucks for her continued support and betaing. Thank you to @jvanilly, @ronearoundblindly @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @darsynia @sconnie-doesnt-know @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @nana1000night @jynxmirage and others for the support this weekend during our Presidents' Day Writers Party.

Ask Box: Open

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Chapter 6

You stood frozen in place as Sy, sporting a freshly shaved head and trimmed beard, followed Aubrey into the kitchen.  You stared at the empty doorway, barely registering the joyous chatter that erupted at his arrival.  You were too busy trying to figure out what in the world you were going to do now that he was here.  You could run off like a child, get in your car and never be seen again.  There was a certain appeal to that, you had to admit that.  

What in the fuck is he doing home anyway?  He was supposed to be on some super secret squirrel mission for the US government, wasn't he?  It's only been 5 days since he sent you the message he was being sent out.  He that good at his job that he accomplished whatever it was that quickly?

With a frustrated sigh, you broke  yourself free from your fixed staring stance, and  quickly moved to continue your task, now setting the fifth space.  Once that was done, you let your mind wander as you futzed with the table as long as you could without feeling ultra awkward for not being in the kitchen with the others.  Looking up, you nearly jumped out of your skin as you finally noticed the hulking man standing in the room with you, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable, cold and distant, unflinching as you squeaked your surprise.  His eyes were focused on you, his jaw set and you wondered how long he had been standing there.  And how he entered the room without you noticing.  

Biting your lip, you tried to mimic his stoic manner, knowing you did not have it in you, and you began to crumble under his scrutinous gaze.  As you felt the all too familiar sting of tears, Aaran jerked his head toward the next room.  Nodding, you followed the instruction and found yourself alone in the living room with Sy.  You felt suddenly embarrassed and nervous, barely able to look at him. You heard the others still in the kitchen as he stepped toward you.  He stopped just short of your personal bubble, and without a word, he tucked one finger under your chin, gently guiding your face up.  Your eyes flowed over his features, your cheeks reddening, your stomach doing flips it only ever did with your husband.  You tried to deny that you were feeling something for Sy, reminding yourself Jake had been gone less than 2 months.  This was so wrong.

But as your eyes met Sy’s, you felt something in you snap.  As if he could feel it too, Sy stepped forward, almost in slow motion, the electricity between you palpable.  Unable to stop, you rose on your toes, hand on his chest to steady yourself.  You held your breath as you brushed your lips over his.  Sy stood motionless, but didn’t hold back the soft moan emanating from his throat.  

Emboldened by that sound, you pressed closer to him, your lips parting his.  Abruptly, Sy cradled your cheeks in his hands, pulling closer to you before spinning the pair of you, pressing your back to a wall in the corner of the room with a low growl. 

With a barely audible ooff, you grabbed his shirt, tugging him closer as his tongue filled your mouth.  His knee inserted itself between your thighs making you hiss and hold on tighter, pulling his shirt from the waistband of his pants, your fingers seeking his warm skin.  Your mind continued to spin with the thoughts of how this shouldn't be happening while your body sparked and sizzled with each stroke of his tongue, each touch of his hands and fingers.  

Jolene called your name from deep in the kitchen. “Did you bring that wine with you?"  

Ripping your mouth from Sy’s, you tried to slow your breathing as he stared at you like he wanted to devour you whole.  “Yeah,” you yelled back, your eyes flowing over his face, straying from his eyes to his kiss-swollen lips.  “I forgot it in the car.  Lemme go grab it.”

“Great!” Her voice seemed closer, panic rising in your brain at being caught, your hands pressing to his chest  “You seen Sy? Madre needs him.”  

You wrap your hands around his wrists, his fingers clenching your hips, your eyes pleading with him.  “Think I saw him head to the bathroom.”  Sy’s tongue swept over his bottom lip, making your thighs weak before you attempted to push him back again. “I’ll be right back!"

Sy was very reluctant to let you go, but he finally let you escape to the front door.  The fresh cool air hitting your burning cheeks was more than a little welcome as you slammed the door behind you.  What in the world were you thinking?  What had gotten into you?

Sy could, that enabling voice in the back of your mind offered.   

You told it to fuck off as you slowly walked to your car, taking as much time as possible to allow yourself to cool down. 

The door to the house loudy closed, making you jump and turn around.  Without a glance in your direction, Sy stoically walked across the yard towards a grill in the shade of the house, pulling the lid off of it before rifling through a nearby deck box.  The buzz of arousal still stirred in you, and you tried to ignore the way he looked bending over, the way the still untucked Molly Hatchet shirt rode up his expansive back, the way his bottom looked in his jeans as he rooted around for charcoal and tools to get the grill going.  

“For fuck’s sake.  Are you 12?” you muttered under your breath as you spun back around to pull the wine bottles from your passenger seat.  Marching back to the door, you did your best to not glance in Aaran’s direction.  When you did, you caught him looking at you, and smirking, that fucking smirk, making you blush hotly and almost dash for the door handle.  

Somehow you found your way into the house, and back to the kitchen.  Jolene raised her eyebrow at your arrival and you tried to ignore her, setting the bottles on the counter.  Opening a drawer to your left, you rooted around for the wine opener you knew was in there somewhere, suddenly and desperately feeling parched, still ignoring Jolene’s stare, not wanting to know what she saw or knew, or thought she saw or thought she knew.  

The opener appeared in front of your eyes, dangled in your view by perfect french manicure.  “Oh bless you, child,” you muttered out loud, snagging the tool from Aubrey’s fingers as she shifted two glasses in front of you.  

“You are welcome,” she laughed as you opened the wine, pulling the foil from the neck enough to get at the cork.  “You ok?” she asked, finally taking your appearance in. “You feel ok?” she tried again when you ignored her as you struggled with the bottle. “I’ll be better when this fucking thing is open,” you mumbled.

She placed her hand on yours.  “Don’t hurt yourself,” she tried, pulling the bottle closer to herself.  “Why don't you just ask Sy for help?”

You froze, your glance moved quickly from the label on the bottle to her face, wondering what exactly she was implying.  You must have looked confused, because she clarified.  “With the bottle...unless you...” she tried to hide her smirk with her hand, but you catch it before she does.  

Were you that obvious?  “No.” You have no idea what you are answering but the answer is no, right?

“But you want to,” she assessed from behind her hand, her eyes taking you in with glee and amusement.  

The flush darkened on your cheeks, your ears joining in on the embarrassment. “That's... ohmygodshutup,” you mutter softly, with a glance over your shoulder at Jolene and Madre, the room, the house suddenly seeming way too small.  With a wild yank on the bottle, you managed to get it open a split second before you could opt to run from the house and never come back again.  Ignoring Aubrey’s insistent stare, you filled the two glasses in front of you, over filling one.  Tossing the opener still holding the cork to the counter, you sipped just enough from the glass that threatened to spill over before grabbing it and the bottle.  You quickly moved into the dining room.  As you settled in a chair facing the doorways to both the kitchen and the front hallway, you took a healthy (or unhealthy depending on your opinion on the matter) drink from the glass, half emptying it as Aubrey followed behind you.  “We are just gonna be in here chatting if you need anything,” she sing-songily called to the other two women, knowing that Madre was just waving the two of you to relax and sit.  

The younger woman took the seat next to you, her face filled with glee and intrigue, which you chose to ignore, or at least tried to.  “Shut it,” you grumble from inside your glass’s bowl.  “Did you-”

“I said shut it,” you insisted.  

Nodding, she shifted tactics.  “He’s a good guy, you know,” she offered with too casual of a shrug before taking a sip from her own glass, her eyes trained on the table top.  “Daddy always liked him,” she said softly, her voice tight as she sipped again.  

It was your turn to look at her with intrigue, but before you could ask what the backstory was between Clay and the other man, hell between her and Sy, the front door opened and booted feet came down the hall.  Sy regarded you two with that same raised eyebrow he gave you earlier, only his eyes were softer as he wandered into the kitchen.  “Ready for the meat,” he announced to Madre, his face split with a toothy grin.  With her own broad smile, she slipped a platter off the counter and into his hands and patted his cheek, something you had seen her do countless times with Cougar and even with Jake and the other Losers.  She adored her boys, her love was unending for any of them. And they in turn returned it with just as much zest as she did.  It brought such warmth to your chest and -your old nemesis- tears to your eyes.  

To hide them, you lifted the glass to your lips and swallowed a mouthful or maybe two or three. By the time you came up for air, Sy had stepped back outside and Jolene came into the room carrying bowls of food.  Aubrey fussed and ushered her into a chair as you instantly hopped to your feet insisting she should be sitting.  The momma-to-be just rolled her eyes at all of you but relented, settling in the chair on the opposite side of Aubrey.  By the time all of the food was moved to the table, Aaran returned with a plate full of beautifully charred skirt steak.  The scent of wood smoke surrounded you as he leaned in behind you to place it in the center of the table, taking the opportunity to press his fingers of his opposite hand against your side as he straightened back up.  You shot him a glare which earned you a bit of the handsomely alluring smirk in return.  

You almost tripped over your own feet as you moved to your seat, reaching for your near empty glass as Madre entered the room, putting Sy next to you.  Draining the liquid, you reached for the bottle and refilled the glass.  Your favorite youngest member in attendance wandered back into the room with the second bottle already opened in her hand along with a pitcher of water and a fresh beer for Aaran tucked in her elbow.  

The five of you shared your meal with only slightly awkward conversation, or at least that’s as you perceived it as you continued to imbibe your liquid courage, your mental diatribe shaming you for what had happened in the other room; you felt like everyone at the table was judging you for your traitorous thoughts and actions, making you slink down into your chair as you picked at your meal.  

The conversation around you jumped through what was going on in everyone’s life, the other 4 falling into comfortable dialog.  Joining in on the conversation only when called to, you were lost in your own head, the heat from Sy sitting so close and his scent, god his scent had your brain completely turned inside out with impure thoughts as well as an overwhelming sense of guilt.  

As you reached to empty the second wine bottle, Aubrey’s hand landed over the top of your glass.  If looks could have killed, yours would have at least amputated that hand as she smilingly pleaded with you to cut it out.   A large warm hand landed on your thigh, gently squeezing as Sy refilled your glass with ice water instead.  You turned your murderous gaze to him, which only earned you a concerned smile.  

You hated them both, you conceded as you sipped your water.   All of them, you changed your mind as you caught Jolene’s soft smile.  You chose to ignore reading Madre’s expression.  Her disapproval would just kill you to your soul and you didn’t need that today.  

Instead of sticking around to be judged, you opted to start clearing the table, shooing everyone else to stay seated as you took their dishes into the kitchen.  Aubrey silently ignored your wishes bringing you a few of the serving bowls, squeezing your arm as she set your water glass within easy reach of the sink as you scraped your plate into the trash.  You kissed her cheek in thanks and then smacked her ass with a hand towel, sending her scooting back into the dining room with a wide grin.  

Sy of course entered the kitchen with a raised eyebrow of curiosity and a hint of dirty intent as he took in your handling of Aubrey.  Narrowing your eyes at him, you just quietly shook your head as he set the last of the serving dishes on the counter for you.  You tried to ignore him but the infuriating man took the chance to simply squeeze your shoulders and deposit a kiss on the side of your head as you took another sip of water.  You may have noticed him offer you his ass as he walked back toward the other room but you chose to not acknowledge it with anything more than a singular middle finger held up, your eyes focused on which dish to clean next.  

You had to admit to yourself you liked this shift between you and Aaran, even if it gnawed at you that it was too early to be exploring something new with someone.  Jake’s death was only a few months ago.  You owed it to him to mourn more before moving one, didn’t you?   The man who meant the world to you, the love of your life, your forever, deserved more than to be swept aside a mere 2 months after his death.  

But did allowing Sy into your life in a more intimate capacity really diminish what you felt for Jake?   Here was the real issue for you, and the true reason you kept reaching for the alcohol tonight. It really didn’t diminish anything, you were clearly still grieving the loss of your husband.  You were likely going to grieve him as long as you drew breath.  It wouldn’t matter when you let someone else into your life, today or ten years from now.  No one would ever replace Jake.  

Wiping at the tears that leaked out of your eyes, you continued with your task, your shoulders a little less burdened, your consciousness a little less pain ridden.  Once the coffee machine quit percolating and the dishwasher was turned on, you returned to the table a bit lighter than you had left it.  Setting miss-matched mugs and the pot on the table top, you waved Sy back into his chair again as you turned to grab the milk and sugar.  

Jolene called behind you. “There’s a-”

“Pie on the counter,” you finished, having seen the baked good, and knowing Jolene's inability to show up for a dinner empty handed.  “Got it.”

You couldn't stop the man from following at the mention of dessert.  Giving him a light eye roll, the two of you silently moved through the kitchen, both of you having made yourselves at home at Madre’s countless times.  You found yourself relishing in the feel of his light touches, the comfort you felt from him helping you gather all you needed from the kitchen, your mind finally relaxing into the possibilities of this being a thing.  

Madre patted your arm and smiled at you as settled the stack of dishes and pile of cake forks next to the beautiful pie Jolene had brought with her.  You turned to grab your wine glass of water you had left on the counter, leaving Aaran to the honors of slicing the pie into the desired slice sizes of the other three women.  

When you returned, you found a sizable piece of blueberry pie on a plate in your spot, much larger than anything you could fully consume, especially after you may have helped yourself to a scoop or two too many of one of Madre’s signature dishes at dinner.  You groan silently as you stab your fork into the pie, half of your forkful filled with crust.  Snagging the flaky pastry with your finger tips, you slip it in your mouth, catching Sy watching you from the corner of your eye.  

“What?” you whisper incredulously at him, wondering what caused his interest.  

With a not so hidden smile and a shake of his head, he turned back to his own dessert, cutting a portion of it to shovel into his own mouth, turning his eyes back to Jolene who was telling a story down on the other end of the table.  

The meal ended shortly thereafter with Jolene’s announcement that she needed to get home and into bed.  At her insistence that you all should stay and continue to visit, you drained your coffee cup as Syverson snagged your pushed aside half full plate of pie, settling it on his own empty plate.  Ignoring him, you stood and followed Jolene to the kitchen after she hugged Aubrey and Madre and waved at Sy. You babbled about the upcoming classes the two of you were attending later that week.  You promised to be by after work, and the two of you would go grab dinner before the class started.  

“Night!” came the chorus of voices from the table as the two of you walked to the front door through the dining room. At the end of the hall, you held the door open for her as she stepped over the threshold onto the porch. She shushed you, waiting until you quit your babbles about how helpful you were going to be to her and how she had this mother thing down.  With a soft dewy eyed look that could very well be a trick of the porch light, she bit her lip.  “He seems like he’s good for you,” she told you softly.  

Your mouth fell open at her comment. “Who? Sy?”  Your sluggish brain whirled at the perceived permission from another widow to allow this new man into your life. 

“No the fucking mail man, you dumbass,” she laughed, wiping at her eyes.  She kissed your cheek, squeezing you tight before turning to step from the porch.  “Love you!” she called as she walked to her car.  

“Love you too,” you repeated automatically but not insincerely as your heart pounded hard in your chest.  This might be ok with others?  

Chapter 8

Tag lists

General Tag List: @littleone65, @mysweetlittledesire BBTF Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sconnie-doesnt-know HC Tag LIst: @m07belzen @used-to-be-bourbonwithice @hawklin

[mrsevans90]

Double Life

Summary: Charlotte has gone on a few dates with a journalist named Clark Kent and she really feels like she’s falling for him. She has noticed some odd behavior from him every once in a while, but the worst part is not knowing if he’s truly interested in her. Why won’t he make a move? Is he just taking things extremely slow? Are her feelings for him unrequited? She finds the answers to all of her questions in the most embarrassing way imaginable. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Clark Kent/Superman x Female Reader Charlotte

Brief mention of Bruce Wayne x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,060 

Warnings: SMUT; masturbation, voyeur, oral (f), oral (m), squirting, cum swallowing, fingering, P in V intercourse, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), dirty talk, rough sex, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d

A/N: This story came to me in a dream and I woke up and immediately typed the idea in my notes section of my phone. This is my very FIRST attempt at writing anything on Tumblr so all I ask is please be kind and if you love it then please comment and REPOST! Thank you for reading! 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

I woke up early Saturday morning. It seems impossible to sleep in now that I’ve become so used to being at the office by 8 am every morning. I feel a bit jittery after my date last night and am thankful for the wine that I consumed being the only reason I even was able to fall asleep. I lay in bed as my thoughts run wild. I know I should be getting out of bed and going for a run in an attempt to get rid of this pent-up energy, but glancing towards my bedroom window shows a dreary overcast day with a potential for rain. I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position while my brain races thinking of last night. A handsome and often quiet man named Clark Kent had taken me on our fifth date. He was absolutely gorgeous, well dressed with his hair combed back, strong jaw with dimpled chin and black framed glasses. His incredible physique and handsome features are only partially what attracts me to him. His generous and mild-mannered personality and intelligence were a huge turn on. The attraction I feel for Clark is more than I ever remember feeling for a man before. My dating life since getting cheated on by my long-term high school boyfriend has been very short lived which I was fine with until now. I feel like I’ve continually held men at arm’s length, settling for a few one-night stands but nothing more in an attempt to spare my heart from more heartache. I realized after our third date that I wanted more with Clark and that he was worth the risk but I honestly am not sure how he feels about me. Yes, he’s continued to ask me on dates; taking me to dinner several times and even to a movie, yet he hasn’t made any more advances other than holding my hand and a cordial peck on the cheek. He walks me to my door after each date and ends our evening with a hug, kiss on the cheek and a goodnight. After our fourth date, I asked him if he’d like to come inside, however, he politely declined. I’m going out of my mind trying to figure out if he’s even interested but I haven’t built up the courage to ask him yet. I doubt I would even get the chance after I essentially stuck my foot in my mouth on the walk home from dinner with him last night. 

*Flashback to last night*

We walked past a storefront near my apartment that was advertising superman shirts for children and I commented how cute they were. I had noticed over the past month, that Clark was very quiet anytime I mentioned the famous Superman around him. Why couldn’t I just take the hint that he was uncomfortable?

“You know, you look an awful lot like Superman. I bet if you dressed as him for your work Halloween party, people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in you both!” I said with a smile that quickly went away when I noticed him flinch.

Unfortunately, I didn’t stop my nervous rambling there. In my attempt to lighten the mood, I said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that you actually are Superman! Ha ha! Do you have a secret identity you’re keeping from me, Clark?” I said with a wink. 

When I looked at Clark he seemed withdrawn and somewhat nervous. 

“No, no. I’m certainly not that interesting.” Clark quickly responded while looking at his feet as we walked into my apartment building.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight but I have to get going. I have, um… I have an early start in the morning attempting to interview people in Gotham City about the latest crime statistics.” Clark told me before I could even invite him inside. He seemed fidgety and awkward as he kept glancing anywhere but at my eyes.

“On a Saturday?” I ask and he quickly nodded while avoiding eye contact with me.

“Good journalism never takes a day off.” He said with an embarrassed smile. 

“I could possibly help. I have Bruce Wayne’s contact information if you’d like it. I’m sure he could be an interesting person to interview for your article.”

“You do? Why? I mean, how do you know him?” He responded with an arched eyebrow as he finally made eye contact with me for the first time in the past few minutes.

“Well, almost two months ago I met him at a charity gala for the Children’s hospital. He came over and spoke to me for a bit before he asked me on a date. It was the day after you asked me if I would go to dinner with you so I politely turned him down. He gave me his business card in case I changed my mind.” I responded quickly. Why does this feel so awkward? I didn’t do anything wrong but I still feel like he’s disappointed.

“I’m sure it’s on my desk in the apartment, if you’d like to come inside?” I ask as a last stitch effort to see if I had completely ruined this date.

“No, no that’s not necessary…Thank you, I appreciate the offer though. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Clark asked with his typical kiss on the cheek. 

“Oh…okay. Goodnight Clark.”

“Goodnight Charlotte.” He responded before turning and beelining for the exit. 

“Way to go, Char. Could you be any more of a dumbass?” I quietly said to myself as I closed my apartment door and went to get ready for bed.

*Present Day*

As I continue to lay in bed I begin thinking about Clark and think about how large and strong his hand was as he cradled my small one in his while we walked to the restaurant. The veins in his muscular arms, and his strong, sharp jaw. My arousal begins to dampen my panties which I quickly remove and lay back in only my white tank top. Guess this will be the only sexual relief I will be getting for a long time. I thought to myself as I reach for the vibrator in my nightstand and begin pleasuring myself. After only a few minutes, I have kicked off my covers as my body begins to glisten with perspiration, and begin pleading for my orgasm to arrive. My eyes clamped shut, I imagine Clark’s large, strong chest against my own, his arms on either side of my head as he pumps what I can only imagine is a perfect and large cock into my warmth. I imagine his beautiful blue eyes staring into my own as he presses kisses to my body and sucks on my neck.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! Ugh! I need you!” I say verbally as I continue to spur myself on in this filthy fantasy. 

CLARK POV:

Across town I am scrambling some eggs on the stove as I think about last night. Had Charlotte actually figured out my secret? Something the rest of the world seemed oblivious too? Or was she just joking and truly unaware? I had to deny it even though she was absolutely correct. I cringed as I began thinking about Bruce hitting on her. It’s not shocking since she’s possibly the most naturally stunning, intelligent, and interesting woman I have ever met. I believe I made it clear with him on the phone after I came home last night to stay away from my girl. I know she’s not technically mine, or a possession to own, but I have more claim to her heart than Bruce and I won’t allow him to interfere. Before I even realize it, I have squeezed a hand shaped imprint around the flimsy handle of the pan I was using.

“Damnit!” I mutter to myself.

I feel like Charlotte is getting impatient with me. It’s obvious that she wants more but how do I handle a relationship with someone I can’t be fully honest with. I want to tell her, I want her to fully know me but I feel like I can’t. I think back to how Lois was used essentially as bait when we were dating. The paranoia and pressure of being Superman’s personal kryptonite and obvious weakness was too much for both of us. Now, she was happily engaged to an engineer in the city. I’m delighted for her, she deserves true happiness yet I wonder if I’ll ever get to experience the same. I couldn’t stop myself from asking Charlotte on a date. The moment I saw her walking into the office next to me, I was lovestruck. Her long blonde hair, tight but professional dress with heels and most importantly crystal blue eyes. She was independent and driven as the head of marketing for her department. Yet, she still had this kindness about her as I watched her enter her building and the front desk guard hug her while thanking her for the toys she had sent home for his young children. She smiled genuinely and made him promise to bring his wife and children for a visit soon. God how I wanted every bit of her. I wanted her body, her mind, her future. The fourth time I saw her, I couldn’t help myself as I made my way towards her and “accidentally” bumped into her. We began a conversation and I was hooked. Before I could even think about the potential consequences, I was asking her to dinner. My cock ached as I thought about her in the shower last night after our date. Hell, I may be an alien but I still have sexual urges. She smelled and looked so beautiful. I could imagine her breasts pressed against my body. I daydreamt about the softness of her lips and the sounds she might make as I slowly took her apart. It has been almost impossible to turn down her invitations to join her in her apartment. I haven’t even allowed myself to kiss her because I’m scared to go any further and get more attached only to have her walk away if she finds out my secret. Was this self-preservation or just stupidity? I’m jolted out of my thoughts as I hear her voice louder than all the others noises going on around me thanks to my super hearing. I listen carefully as I hear her calling my name.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! I need you!” 

I hear her whine and she sounds as if she is out of breath. Without thinking I jump into my Superman suit and bolt out of the window straight into the sky headed towards Charlotte’s apartment. As I get closer, I can hear her whimper along with her accelerated heartrate and I panic thinking she’s in trouble. I reach her unlocked window and slide it open before flying in. Her apartment smells just like her, floral and clean. I focus on her heartbeat and the quiet buzzing sound that I originally thought was coming from the apartment below hers. As soon as I open the door I smell her arousal at the same moment I watch her reach her climax with her eyes clamped shut. 

“Yes, baby!” She cries out. Her legs are parted as she holds a small purple vibrator against her clit and I can see and smell how turned on she is as her pussy glistens with her want. Her breasts are barely contained in a thin white tank top as they heave up and down while she breathes through her orgasm.

Fuck! I’m such a pervert. I need to get out of here before she sees me!

I can’t help but stare at her as she’s laying there twitching from her euphoria. I reach for the door to carefully close it before I realize I wasn’t quick enough.

“Oh my god!” She shouts as she pulls the covers over her body to cover her modesty. Her face blushing profusely as she stares at me.

I back up quickly with my hands in front of me until my back hits her hallway wall. “I’m so sorry. I heard you calling for me and I thought you were in pain. I swear I didn’t mean to walk in on you!” I blurt out quickly not even realizing my own mistake. Charlotte just stares at me with a shocked and bewildered look on her face.

“I’ll go, truly I’m so sorry about this, Ma’am.” I say with my eyes directed at the floor as I pray my rock-hard erection isn’t as obvious as it feels in my form fitting suit. Right as I turn to run back towards the window I hear her again.

“Wait! Please wait!”

Her eyes are wide as she slowly begins to smirk as I turn back around to face her, my eyes still drawn to the floor.

“I didn’t call out for Superman. I called out for Clark.” She says and I glance up at her with wide eyes as saucers as I realize that I had just outed my own secret. My cheeks blush and I can’t put together a single thought to respond to what she just said.

We stare at each other for what feels like minutes even though it’s only just a few seconds.

“I knew I was onto something. You’re always MIA around when Superman is on the news fighting crime, and you stiffen up anytime I mention him. You also had to leave early because of a “family emergency” on our third date but seemed confused later when I asked you if everything with your family was okay. That was the same night that serial killer was brought to the police station by Superman in Gotham. I…I hope you know that I won’t ever tell anyone, Clark. I thought you knew that you could trust me.” She says and I step towards her while remaining a safe distance.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I do trust you but I’ve had to keep this secret my entire life. I was scared at how easily you caught on. I always knew you were intelligent but I was hoping I could still keep you off of the scent of my deception.” 

“It was really just a theory, but obviously this is my confirmation. Since I’m already more than embarrassed after what you just saw, I guess I really have nothing to lose if I just go ahead and ask you.”

“I’m listening.” I say as I hear her heartrate begin to increase steadily.

“Is this why you’ve held back from me? Or are you even interested in dating me? I’m absolutely fine with taking things slow if that’s what you want. I can’t help my old insecurities that make me wonder if you’re even attracted to me and are serious about taking things further with us.” She says with the sweetest innocence and I can’t help but walk towards her and reach out to stroke her cheek. She pulls for me to sit down beside her and I can’t resist.

“I am absolutely interested in dating you, sweetheart. If you only knew how infatuated I am with you, it might frighten you. You are my dream girl, the one I think about each night, and the one person I feel like truly sees to my soul, even when you only knew half of my identity. I see a future for us, Charlotte, which is why I was scared. I was scared that you would run if you found out who I am. I was scared you then might only be interested in me because I’m Superman. Simple Clark just can’t compete with all of the Superman fanfare. What scares me the most is that you could be used as a pawn by dangerous people. I can’t fathom putting you in harm's way. People could come after me and find you to use against me. Being Superman ruined my last and only real relationship so I guess I felt that if I kept ours in limbo, I could still have the time I crave with you while also not losing you. I was afraid to let you in because of my own fears. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was to not kiss you during our dates or come into your apartment when you invited me. I’m so sorry if I made you feel anything other than absolutely adored. I’m out of my element and have no idea what I’m doing.” Clark says the last part with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Clark, I understand your fears and your sense of self-preservation. I do it too. I often feel like I’ve built the walls around my heart too high in order to protect myself from heartache but each moment I’ve spent with you seems to lower them. I see a potential future with you too which is terrifying and exhilarating all at once because I don’t want to be heartbroken again. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you are worth the risk.  I’m not afraid of you, or being with you. I’m not going anywhere. I want you in any and every form and I won’t run away. You are the only person that has made me feel alive again in years.”

Clark smiles triumphantly before leaning down and kissing Charlotte passionately. After kissing her for several minutes, she slowly pulls back to catch her breath.

“So, you’ve seen mine… When do I get to see yours? Fair is fair.” Charlotte looks up at me sultrily as she runs her hands up and down my arms.

“Are you certain that is what you want?” I smirk as I arch my eyebrow at her.

She nods as she sits up on her knees and drops the blanket that was covering her body only clad in a thin white tank top. 

“Only if you want too.” She seductively bites her lip as she trails her fingers down my torso and gently cups my bulge that is swelling indecently against my tight suit. 

“Holy shit!” She murmurs quietly as she presses against my engorged erection and I can’t help but chuckle.

Before I even think I’m unzipping and tugging my suit off of my body at super speed before leaning over her and ripping her tank top from her torso. She squeals in excitement as I lean over her pressing our hot naked bodies against each other while pulling her into a zealous kiss.  

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about having you like this, Lottie. I’ve wanted you to be mine from the moment I saw you.” I say as I touch all over her beautiful body.

“Ditto, which you obviously know since you got a front row seat to my indecent fantasies about you.” She says with a little giggle as I begin kissing down her torso after having already sucked on her pert breasts.

I make my way down her body as I become face to face with her hot, dripping core. I smell the sweet arousal coming from her and when I look up at her for permission she quickly nods as she reaches to caress my cheek. I smirk at her before I begin feasting on her sweet petals and sucking on her clit. 

“Oh my god, Clark!” She almost yells while her hands tug against my hair as she begins gyrating her hips to increase the pleasure she is receiving from my mouth. I continue for a few minutes as I feel her begin to stiffen from her orgasm. I continue to lick her gently through her orgasm but decide that I’m not finished with her yet. I want to give her an orgasm so earth shattering that she squirts her arousal all over my face. She shouts as I shove my finger into her opening, quickly followed by a second one. I curl my fingers and search for her g-spot. 

I know quickly that I’ve found it when her back arches off of the bed and she yells, “Fuck! Clark! Right there!” 

I begin shoving my fingers against the soft spongey spot while my tongue continues to flick over her clit. 

“I think I’m gonna… oh shit Clark! This feels different! Oh my god!” She squeals as her body arches off of the bed and she begins to squirt. The sounds of her squelching and dripping are lewd as I continue to work her through it. Her body almost convulses around my assault and I preen at her filthy moans. I am doing everything to keep from blowing my load on her bed. I watch as Charlotte’s whole body quickly becomes jelly-like as her muscles relax and I lightly kiss her thighs. 

“That was beautiful, baby.” I say as I press small kisses on her hips and abdomen.

“Did I? Oh my god, Clark. Did I just squirt?” She asks as her cheeks are beet red.

“You sure did baby. Soaked my face and almost made me blow my load. Did it feel good?”

“Yes, but I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sor...” She began to say before I quickly cut her off with a kiss. 

“Don’t you ever apologize for that sweetheart. That was a pure masterpiece and I hope I’ll get you to do it again at some point. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on.” I admit before kissing her again.

“Now it’s your turn.” She smiles as she attempts to push me to the bed. It’s like a kitten trying to push a lion over which makes me grin before I quickly concede and lay on my back. 

“Babygirl, you don’t have too. I’m just happy to give you pleasure.” I tell her.

“Oh no, Mr. Kent. I’m not missing an opportunity to taste you.” Charlotte says as she begins moving down my body. I can barely lay still once she reaches my manhood and I feel her warm breath where I need her most. I groan as I take in the sight of her tiny hand wrapping around my girth as she begins to kitten lick along my length. I groan as she looks at me doe eyed before she takes me in her mouth. She has the mouth of a goddess and I’m already close before she even adds her tiny hand to pump what wouldn’t fit. I reach down and grab her long beautiful hair into a makeshift ponytail so I can watch her. I feel her tiny hand begin pulsing around my balls and groan loudly. I can’t help myself as I watch her steady herself before taking my entire length to her throat. She gags as her nose reaches my skin and she slightly pulls off before doing it again. Saliva is dripping from her chin as she continues working my cock.

“Babygirl, I’m gonna cum. You need to...fuck… stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.” 

She moans around my length as she doubles her effort and the vibrations feel heavenly. That’s all it took for me to reach my high and explode down her throat.

My body shivers in aftershocks due to the oversensitivity as Y/N continues to suck around the head of my cock and massage my balls. I look down and see that she’s swallowed everything and is smiling brightly at me. I reach down and pull her up my body as I immediately begin kissing her breathless. 

“Darling, that was incredible. Thank you.” I smile at her before I kiss down her neck. 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

My mind is empty of every thought due to the alarm bells and “OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING” screaming repeatedly in my head. I’m trying my best to play it off, but my fantasy is coming true and it’s even better than I ever could have imagined. Clark is not only the best kisser I’ve ever experienced, but he has the body of a Greek God. Well, in this case, he has a body of a superhero. I’ve been doing my best not to sound needy but heavens, I need him inside of me.

“Clark” I say as he continues to press gentle kisses behind my ear and the column of my neck.

“Yes angel?” 

“Please tell me I don’t have to wait long for you to be inside of me. I need you.”

He smirks above me as I feel his rigid cock against my abdomen. It didn’t go soft after his orgasm. “You want me right now?” I nod enthusiastically. 

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart. Take what you want.” Clark says huskily in my ear. For a man who seemed so reserved and shy, he has all of the confidence in the world when it comes to the bedroom. As he should!

I smile wildly as his chest vibrates against my own with a low growl as I reach his hard length and pump him a few times against my slick before pressing him to my entrance.

“Oh my god!”

“Shit!” 

We both speak simultaneously as he seats himself fully inside of me. It feels like he is reaching my lungs as he gives me a moment to adjust around his ginormous cock.

“God, Clark! You’re huge!” 

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Clark frets even though he hasn’t moved inside of me.

“Fuck no!” I respond almost breathlessly as I wrap my hands around his biceps tightly. 

“I’ve just never been with someone as big as you. I’m okay. You can move now.”

Clark carefully pulls almost completely out of me before gently sliding all the way back in. 

“Baby girl, you are so tight and warm. You feel incredible.” He says as he starts building up a gentle rhythm. 

“You won’t break me, baby. You can go harder.” 

“I could if I’m not careful, Sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I will tell you if it starts to hurt, I swear. Relax, baby.” I say before kissing him enthusiastically. He reaches and cups my tits in his hands, massaging them gently.

Clark watches me carefully before taking a breath and slamming into me roughly. His pubic bone slamming into my clit making me shriek with the sensation.

“How’s that for harder?” He whispers.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby! Just like that! You feel so good inside of me.” I whine as my hands scratch down his back without even making a mark on his strong impenetrable skin.

“That’s right, sweet girl. I can tell you’re close. Come all over my cock. Squeeze me.” He says as my body begins milking him. 

“CLARK!” I shout.

“Call me Kal, baby. When I’m balls deep inside this sweet pussy, I want you to call me Kal.” He says with the most shit eating grin while never slowing his pace.

“Oh my god, Kal!” I moan just before my eyes roll back and I instantly come all over him.

“Fuck yes, this is the tightest little pussy in the world. So beautiful and wet and snug around me.” He grunts as he continues to slam into me. Before I realize it, he’s sitting me up in his lap so that our chests are against each other and my legs are wrapped around his waist. Clark grabs the back of my neck to press himself even closer to me as I brace my hands on his shoulders. 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly become more beautiful….” Clark whispers into my ear as he grabs my ass to help me move on top of him.

“Watching your gorgeous body tremble in ecstasy is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Angel.”

Clark plants his feet against the floor and begins wildly thrusting as I rotate my hips in his lap. His hands are most likely leaving bruises on my hips but I don’t even care.

“I want you to come inside of me, baby. I need to feel you fill me up. I’m on the pill. Please?” I speak against his ear between his heavy thrusts into me and clench down on him at his responding moan. What has gotten into me? I’ve never let a man come inside of me. This isn’t just any man though, and I am absolutely feral for him.

“Only if you come with me.” He grunts.

“I can’t… it’s too much.” I tell him as my body shakes against him.

“Yes, you can, baby.” He reaches between us and presses his thumb on my clit. I cry out from overstimulation but realize I’m almost there.

“Kal, right there! I’m so close!”

“Come baby. Soak me.” He says as he continues to pleasure me and a moment later I have the most blinding orgasm of my life. I swear that I feel like I am floating as I hear Clark grunt and release a deep baritone moan as his warm come coats my inner walls. My body is shaking with tingles to all of my extremities as I am encased in pure bliss. When I finally somewhat come to, I realize I wasn’t just floating from my orgasm, Clark and I were actually floating above my bed. Clark’s head is resting on the junction of my neck and shoulder when I quickly press closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

Clark chuckles as he gently sets us down on the bed. “I guess you would’ve found out my secret eventually. I just came so hard that I literally levitated.” 

I giggle and press my lips to his. “I didn’t freak you out, did I?”

“Not at all. I think it’s really cool that you are Superman, Kal;” I say as I stroke a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. “but the man that I have been falling in love with is Clark. He is all I need. The rest is just a bonus. If you’ll have me of course.”

Clark rests his forehead against my own as he gives me the most panty dropping smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetheart. Will you be my girl?”

“I would love nothing more.” I respond with a sweet kiss. The rest of the weekend is spent wrapped in each other.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

Description: Captain Syverson learnt that the only way to have her was to ask her hand in marriage. So he did just that. And she was all his now, both to hold and to possess.

Pairing: Soft-Dark!Captain Syverson | Sheikha!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Captain Syverson. This is a mature story with dark undertones so kindly browse at your own discretion. Please note that this piece is only a work of fiction that in no way aims to reinforce or propose any stereotypes to any ethnicity or race. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Syverson, he is lowkey messed up, smut with plot (I am sorry), possessive behavior, his obsession with her chastity, naive!reader, size kink, biting (it's Henry and his canines ffs), boob play, manhandling, power imbalance, arranged marriage, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, m!dom, f!sub, he's a man, misogyny, age gap (reader is 20's, Sy is early 40's fight me), he's lowkey intimidating, slight spanking, allusion to bondage, manipulation, slow burn-ish, maybe more dialogue than necessary, p-in-v penetration, corruption kink, no use of 'Y/n'. 

Note: Her father is not the mean Sheikh from the movie lmfao. Reader doesn't even have to be Iraqi, just Eastern that you can TOTALLY imagine yourself as because it's a frickin' story for God's sake! Ps, This blocked me so hard mid-write I nearly abandoned it lmfao, I need a break! 

.

Captain Syverson had always thought the notion of the first touch buzz to be foolish. To quote him in his own words, the electric touch that people claimed their beloved aroused within them was nothing more than a steaming pile of horseshit. 

Until now. 

As his thick and coarse battle hardened hands cupped the side of the tender face of his dear wife, the Captain's thumb darted out to quickly glide across the perfect arch of her cheekbone before it moved down to the bow of her lips, his body combusting into a thousand flames of raw desire. 

Her skin was so tender he feared it may come off if he pressed on it too hard. The structure of her body that adorned her traditional wedding attire seemed so fragile in this moment next to him and in his big old bed that the thought of ever manhandling a thing as delicate as her terrified him. The contrast of her usually confident and intelligent countenance was striking in quality to the humility with which she now offered her submission to him. 

His suspicions against his body and strength increased by the passing minute; he felt petrified to even breathe too easily near her. The fear that it may damage her in some way haunted him and filled his lungs with dread. It was not that she was the most petite thing that he had ever seen or she held resemblance to an adolescent in terms of size or any of that weird shit, no. 

It was instead the way in which her head bowed in just the perfect way so it indicated respect and submission; not so high that it would seem that she was trying to deny him his station but not so low that it became off-putting. It was an acknowledgement to his power in their dynamic; an agreement of a lifetime. 

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

There was simply no way he was going to make it through the night with his sanity intact. 

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

Because even though he wanted to hide this girl so safely in his arms for the rest of his days that not even a harsh breeze would be allowed to touch her, the erratic way in which his boiling blood sizzled its way through his veins, The Captain wanted nothing more than to just turn her around, press her breathtaking face into the mattress and take her over and over until she was swell with his litter. 

Or press his bigger body against hers and take her deep and raw until her mind gave up on consciousness  

Perhaps place her between his own legs and feel her mouth around him until his seed spilled from her nose. 

Maybe make her mount him and slap her ass that he just knew would be perfect over and over to keep her going even when she didn't want to. 

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

And he was determined to try his hand at all of them, and more. 

His eyebrows furrowed just a little when she awkwardly pecked his lips for the fifth time in a straight row and refused to give him more, cringing away when he attempted to deepen the kiss. The girl that giggled and covered her mouth on which her red lipstick had already smudged was a dead leaf echo of the confident and liberal sheikha -prized daughter of the sheikh supreme- that critically watched the foreign Captain everytime he was around with her bright and vigilant brown eyes so full of scrutiny that it made him, a grown man, blush. It wasn't his fault, really. Her eyes had the most attractive gleam of intelligence to them and the black khol that lined them only accentuated their beauty more. 

She had always been so elegant Syverson knew he was a goner the first time his eyes had been granted the pleasure of looking at her. Sat aside her father basking in her confidence, silk scarf draped around her head and body in the most perfect way, a form he could only describe as agreeable always clad in decent clothes, fingers adorning rings with colorful stones and modesty dripping off of every single mannerism of hers. 

How could a man not look twice?

And then not consider looking away utterly blasphemous on account of being unappreciative of such godly beauty?

"I- I do not know how to…" Her accent turned his gears just right. "K- Kiss, Captain" oh. 

Of course. 

Blood rushed to his cock that hadn't throbbed like this in a long time. That was, if it ever had. 

And then his sweet, chaste wife just had to call him Captain.

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

The obedient daughter, who was never afraid to voice her thoughts and outsmart every man who dared stand against her with inadequate knowledge of the debate at hand, had happily bowed down to her father's wish that she marry the charming and noble Captain -to them a warrior who was not afraid to fight for his country; a man truly admirable- after said Captain had asked for her hand in marriage when he had realized that that was the only way to have her. 

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

Sure, it had taken Syverson and his rather daft attempts at impressing her some quick-witted answers and astute responses by a rather critical her to realize it.

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

"Well, ain't that just dandy?" Syverson realizes just how heavy his breathing really is when his words come out gravelly and almost forced. She is unable to hold his eyes for very long so she stares at his chest instead, a most remarkable coy smile across her lips. The fact that she looks every other man with a taught unaffected sternness but has blushed everytime their eyes have met after the wedding just drives him all the more insane. 

Her dark eyebrows furrow as she lightly tilts her head to the side. He has noticed that she has some trouble understanding his dialect. So he caresses her cheek again, this time in a reassuring manner;

"I know you'll figure it out soon. You're a clever lil' thing, ain'tcha?" She looks up just long enough to nod with a meeting of their eyes. 

"Yes, Captain" god, even her way of speaking has softened.

The knowledge that he was the only man in this whole wide world whom she treated like this made him want to worship her with his love and devotion in every way possible. 

Because The Captain was naturally a very possessive man who did not appreciate ran through goods.  

"Alright now, just trust your husband and sit back like a good lil' bride, alright?" It was taking him all of his focus to not just push her back and have his depraved ways with her all night long.

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

"Atta girl," before he leaned back in and brushed his lips against hers just long enough to whisper, "now hush and don'tcha try to keep them pretty lips shut on me" he felt her going breathless against him when his mouth fit against the slot of her parted one perfectly; as though it had been created just for him. 

She did her best to keep up with as much obedience as her modesty would allow her to muster but the sensation of his mouth against hers, the scratch of his coarse beard across her delicate skin, the wetness of his tongue that took its time swiping against her bottom lip and the way that he didn't have to break the kiss to know that she had extended her had in his direction to take a hold of him to deal with the intensity of it all, the sheer desperation with which he reached out his fingers and clutched hers in an affectionate way that also had a territorial tinge to it was all too much for her to handle.

An unfamiliar thrill that she had been a stranger to until this moment began to patter through her bloodstream. Her heart pounded, her sweat glands soaked, her face burnt and her stomach fluttered. 

"Captain" was all she was allowed to whisper in the two second interval the man allowed them to recover their breathing. 

"Well, I'll be damned, darlin'" Syverson husked through rushed kisses as he hurriedly helped her lay down with her attire still intact, both too desperate to strip her and wanting to take her as she was, for tonight she looked the most stunning he had ever seen her. "You're so dang pretty I can't even fathom stayin' off ya now that you're mine" a hush of cold breath rushed past her flush lips as her thick eyebrows drooped upwards in reaction to him dipping his face in the curve of her neck.

"I am all yours to do with whatever you please, my C- Captain" her soft hands flew to grab at his shirt as the foreign sensation of a man's body against her skin sent an electric bolt down her spine. 

His body was heavy above hers as he groaned at her response and grinded his bulge against her covered sex, peppering kisses all over her skin. "God damn, baby. Your mama sure raised you up right, didn't she?" A loud squeak resonated in the air when the new husband simply could not hold back his passion anymore and bit down on the inviting flesh of her shoulder, letting out a stomach churning moan at her taste and squeezing her sides as the smell of her fragrance oils hit his nose. 

"Fuck, baby" it took him all of his willpower and the promise that he could go back for more only easier to part from her. "I can't–" sitting up to kneel over her, Syverson pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it somewhere in the room. "I can't hold back no more" as he leaned back down and placed one hand beside her head to keep himself from suffocating her, the way she looked up at him with wonder, timidity, need, sent a pang of pain to his cock. "Talk to me, darlin'" he gathered her wrists in one hand before placing them above her head, now reaching for the clothed bump on her chest. "You feelin' anything?" A soundless breath left her and she shuddered in such a way that her boobs trembled feverishly. 

"S- Strange… a- and… oh my God!" She had to shut her eyes and turn her head to the side when he suddenly manhandled one of her breasts out of the deep neckline of her wedding night dress. Her hands rushed to cover her chest by instinct but her husband's authoritative swat was much quicker and stronger. 

Syverson chuckled at the defensive gasp she let out, a crazed darkness floating in his eyes as he pinnned her feverish hands out of his way, coarse palm now feeling up her other breast that was freed as he spoke. "Ain't no God 'round these parts tonight, baby. Just me…" His lips enveloped hers in a right and hungry kiss. "'N you" the way she nervously gulped when he pulled back to stare into her eyes only added to the fire in his body. "Say, baby" he trailed gentle kisses down her chin, along her throat and then down to the fluffy cushions of soft flesh dotted with flush, erect nipples in the middle. A surprised cry jutted out of her mouth and her fingernails tried to claw at his hand that confined them above her when he pressed one wet kiss on each nub. "Ain't this just somethin' else?" 

The girl had no idea what possessed her to say what she did, but her hips moved faster than her brain could catch on and her lips worked before reticence could hinder her communication. "I- It is, Captain. T- Thank you" of course she had felt arousal before. Of course she had been wet before. Some of those times she had a certain handsome American Captain to thank for, not that she would ever willingly admit it. But she had never known how to relieve herself of it other than a cold shower. 

Her mother had warned her that not every feeling that transpires in one in times of idleness should be chased and she had listened.

But this was not solitary boredom, this was not a devilish lure, her mother wasn't here and it was her wedding night with a man she was slowly becoming sure she would be able to call her dear husband one day. 

If her husband was kind enough to be considerate about what made her feel what she could only identify as exciting, she deemed it a stupidity to refuse the treatment. 

"Aw, baby" Syverson's hands only part from her breasts so his mouth can greedily latch onto them, his bearded lips pressing all over them before his hand nearly snatches her skirts out of his way since the layers seem to be never ending. "To think that I ain't even begun with ya and you're already thankin' me like a sweet little lady" now his mouth traveled to her stomach and the only word he had for its appearance was perfect. A shudder set in her shoulders when his beard scratched her navel before his teeth softly nibbled away on her skin. 

"W- Would you like me to get up and t- take my clothes off, dear?" God damn.

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

"Hold on now, darlin'" he husked as his fingers caressed her nubs, his hot mouth littering its kisses over her skin further down south. "I wanna take you like this first" the readied rise in the middle of her shoulder blades smoothed out and she settled back into the mattress again wordlessly. "Well now, are you gonna be good and keep them arms up high like a good lil' thing or am I gonna have to tie 'em up?" A drawn out moan sounded from deep within her throat when his chin deliberately brushed against her clothed sex, coarse fingers twirling her nipple between them.

Syverson felt an unconscious clench in the muscles of her thighs upon his words finally registering in her clouded mind. "N- No, I- I'll be good, husband. I promise." 

"Atta girl" he praised in a satisfied tone before letting go of her wrists. 

It was after that that his hands roamed free and wild all over her form. The Captain kissed, sucked, nibbled, pinched, groped, licked and bit all to his desire, the growing moans of his bride only encouraging him further. 

"God damn, if these ain't the sweetest damn legs I've ever seen" Syverson licked away the thread of spit that previously connected his mouth to her now bruised hiphone that he had successfully marked as his territory. The fact that no man had ever seen them and the plan that he made to never let anyone do so either was making his ears hot. His sides were becoming sore with need like he was the virgin. 

"And this– fuck, c'mere" he couldn't hold it back anymore. The Captain had always been an ass man and the fact that he was yet to see his wife's backside was making him mad now. Her yelp morphed into a confused giggle when he bundled her ankles in one of his rough hands, having already rid her of her panties, and easily raised both her legs up until her lower half dangling by his hold on her. "Hmmm, I just knew you had a perfect lil' rump stashed in there" his free hand felt her soft cheeks up before he traced his index finger down her crack, cursing at the way they clenched in defense. Then his depravity got the best of him and he wound his hand back and gave a handful of strong blows to her poor behind that started blushing in an instant. 

"Oh– ouch!" Her next nervous giggle made him raise an eyebrow as he divided an ankle between each hand and parted her legs to look down at her. 

"Think this is funny, do you?" The girl quickly stopped herself nervously. "You know who that's for?" He didn't even mind the giggles, if anything they were rather endearing to him. But the timidity in her eyes was way too sweet for him to pass up. She shook her head no. "Bad little girls who make fun of their fellas, that's who." It was the cock hardening way in which her bottom lip wobbled sensitively that dried his throat. 

A young woman once so strong, all commanding and authorative now exposed in such a submissive manner and completely at his mercy. 

"S- Sorry, dear" he hummed, reaching for the mound between her legs to roughly feel her pussy up in blunt gropes. 

"You can consider those as payback for all them times you thought you could get slick with me in front of my boys just 'cause you were the Sheikh's daughter" her eyes widened and she blushed harder than before. 

"I- I–"

"Yes, you" though Syverson's words were crisp, his kiss on her nether lips was tender and perhaps that was the sole reason why she didn't tear up from being reprimanded when she was so vulnerable and hypersensitive like this. "Thought I'd just forget all that brattin' of yours?" 

She had to hurriedly sit up for that one and reach for his hands affectionately. "Oh, no" the pure care in her eyes made his melting heart feel as though it had risen into the sky. "It was only that you were not my husband back then, dear," she tried to make him understand, aware that there were cultural differences that needed overcoming, "mother said good girls owe it to their husbands to treat every other man with a serious attitude and indifference!" 

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

With a woman who was not only intelligent and gorgeous way past his league but one that respected herself with an unwavering devotion towards her spouse. 

"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed with faux surprise that she did not catch up on, much to his expectation. "So that's what it was all about?" Of course he knew. 

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

She apologetically nodded with sincerity. "I swear, my heart." The translation of the endearment caused for his blood to pump through his ears only harder. 

Syverson gave her a small smile before sighing a little. "Well, you see, darlin', it did still hurt my feelings a tad" her eyebrows furrowed in regret so he added just to rub it in that much more; "got me a bit of pride to keep up, y'know?" 

Now she pouted. "I am sorry, love…" Before a bulb went off in her head and she jumped a little to express her excitement, the action causing her naked boobs to jiggle. "Is there a way I can make it up to you?" There. 

"Why, of course!" Fuck, he sounded more eager than a middle schooler. "You gonna have to show that you can make a good little wife" her cheeks flushed as she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. He continued, aware she was as clueless as a virgin.

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

He wished there was a way to preserve it -her- all as it was.  

"Anything you want, my dear" she replied sincerely as she earnestly pressed his hand that she held to her chest. 

The man swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat as his eyes flickered down to where their fingers were intertwined; the valley of her perfect breasts. 

"Good girl" his voice came out much deeper than usual. "Go on 'n' take it out, then" the bride's eyebrows raised to express her confusion as she tilted her head to the side. 

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

Syverson was getting impatient. "That means my pants, darlin'." He chuckled to lighten the effect of the edge that his tone had held. "I mean, can't exactly make love to ya with 'em on, now can I?" Something pulled taught in her chest and she went to avoid his eyes out of embarrassment. 

"Oh… yes" she was breathless as she reached for his fly, face angled downwards. 

"Yeah…?" He drew it out on purpose teasingly, dipping his own head earthwards to try and meet her gaze cockily. "Yeah, yeah?" The man kept going unrelentlessly until she had no choice but to respond. 

"Y- Yes…" Her nervous fingers slipped over the button of his pants many times but she managed to free him at last. 

"Go on ahead now, sugar" he coaxed sweetly, tone in stark contrast to his intentions. "Take it out and let them pretty lil' hands get a feel" her legs instinctively tried to close due to the shame she felt but her husband's huge body hindered her attempt to somehow cover herself. "Well?"

Her eyes darted up to him from where her fingers gingerly rested against the waistband of his boxers and Syverson suspected that she was about to decline because of the way her mouth moved to let out some phantom words. But when he raised a questioning eyebrow in response, she seemed as though it had reminded her of her place against him and she quickly dipped her digits inside the undergarment to reach for his thumping cock. 

The first feel of her fingertips connecting with his hard skin was… indescribable. It was as though time ceased, stilling everything else with it and he was enveloped into a cocoon of pure sensation. She was everywhere and inside. Her heat filled him to the brim. Each brush of her delicate skin against his rougher one felt like the stroke of the flesh of an outworldly nymph. Shivers of ecstacy cascaded down his lower back and he was floating already. 

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the unfamiliar feeling, the moan that he let out along a whispered praise pulling her back in the moment and away from her recoil. The bride's mind reminded her of her duty to her husband and she used her other hand to hold his clothes away so she could uncover his impaler. 

"Just like that, darlin'. Just like that" one of his hands went to tangle in her hair. "Go on and rub it for me, baby. You're doin' real good" his free hand reached for her own sex that had secreted its natural moisture in reaction to the sensations she was being subjected to. He groaned at the feeling of her warm pussy and squished his finger through her plump nether lips. "Tell me what you see" her own body was getting feverish by the second, hips and cunt trying to shrink in on themselves due to how violating his sense tingling touch was.

"I- It's…" She raked her mind for an appropriate answer. But it was all too much for her to handle; the pressure to impress her new husband, touching him the way he wanted properly, obeying him, submitting to his handling and then dealing with his intense gaze. "V- Very pretty, husband. Thank you" so she played it the safest she knew. 

And the girl could swear she felt him twitch in her palm at that, a pang of pain rising in her wrist as she awkwardly pumped him in a vertical manner. 

"Pretty, huh?" A cunning grin spread across his handsome features as he slipped one finger deep within her folds and being the retired playboy that he was, the Captain easily found her pure entrance. "'N' what about the size?" He could not help but moan at the feeling of her balmy walls clinging to his finger. "Ever seen anythin' like it?" Her thighs quivered as his thumb glided over her folds. 

"N- No, husband" she answered timidly, afraid to bruise his pride with an inappropriate or unsatisfactory answer that may pose a threat to her chasteness.

"That's right" now he began to speed up his intrusion of her insides. "'Cause you're all mine, ain'tcha?"  She quickly nodded, letting out a whine as her eyebrows furrowed at the ache his twisting of one of her nipples caused. "Now tell me," he leaned forward to reach for one of her nubs with his teeth, "did ya ever think you'd land yourself a fella with a cock this big?" He spoke through a mouthful before sinking down on her tender boobs, the tips of his sharp canines digging into the soft cushions of her flesh. 

"N- No…" The girl was gasping as she struggled to keep up with his leaking and twitching cock. "T- Thank you, dear!" She added for good measure despite how overwhelmed she was becoming. 

"Tell me, baby" the man loved how his naive wife's features scrunched in discomfort but she still sped up her fist that was wrapped around his cock because he prompted her to, hoisting himself further up next to capture her lips against his. "Do you think yourself lucky that you get to have this here cock all to yourself for the rest of your days?" He could not help but fuck into her hand at the sight of the spit string dangling by a corner of her bottom lip as it connected to the wad of spit that she had just released on his cock after being ordered to do so. He felt her cringe at the feeling of her fingers touching her own saliva as she spread it over his cock. But her resolve to obey him did not falter even once regardless of how shy or uneasy she felt.

And that was how Syverson knew he had found himself his perfect little homemaker.

"I- I do, husband" her voice nearly broke. "Thank you so much" the fact that all of this was visibly strange and even uncomfortable to her because she was not familiar with any of this… 

The Captain could swear that alone was enough to finish him off.

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

Nobody's leftovers; whole in every sense for the beast to take. 

What could he say? Colonel Syverson's prized son always won, no matter what. 

There was a brighter way of looking at his promiscuous dating history that was in stark contrast to his wife's nonexistent one; it could easily be considered as his physical sacrifice in order to realize and reach his full potential as a man for his future lady's well being as well as pleasure. 

A lady that he had found at last. 

"Say it" his command was heavy and the rough skin of his finger was like gravel against the buttery tissue of her slick walls. "Say that you're the luckiest lil' bride for landin' yourself the best damn dick you could have ever hoped for" she began to subconsciously move her thumb out of sync with the rest of her digits to swipe it over his tip each time her hand rose to his apex and he couldn't believe just how close he was already. 

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

But then again it was impossible for the beast to resist his tempting lamb for very long, wasn't it?

"I- I am the luckiest…" She licked her parched lips needily. "L- Little bride for l- landing myself the best d- dick…" Embarrassment burnt her cheeks but pleasing him was more important a priority to her. "T- That I could've ever hoped for…"

He deeply moaned in satisfaction. "My good girl" a quick peck was given to the tip of her nose. "Now tell me, baby. How ya feelin'?" As if on cue, she clenched around his finger with a moan.  

Fuck, Syverson had never really preferred a clueless woman until now.

He could literally demand whatever he wanted from her and she would believe him out of her naivety. 

His perfect pretzel Princess that he could twist into whatever shape that he pleased. 

Or make her do as he desired, for that matter. 

With no one, not even his wife herself, to question him or his ways.

He loved the thought. 

"... S- Strange… P- Pain… but– hnnn!" Her back arched as she suddenly writhed, nearly going white at the feeling of getting her special spot getting tickled for the first time. It was an ability her husband took a lot of pride in; the  renown that he had held in college for being able to find gspots with his fingers alone. 

"Feels real good too, don't it?" The Captain snickered heavily as he began to rock his hips into her hand, feeling himself nearing the brink. 

"Mmh!" She did her best to respond despite the sensory overload, groaning softly when he forces her band of muscles to expand further by adding another finger to her pussy and repeatedly jabbing her sensitive nerves with their blunt tips, the sound of his skin fucking in and out of her liquids getting louder by the minute. "W- Weird… but…" A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face as she gasped, eyes widening when her spine jolted at a particular wave of pleasure. "M- More, please." 

In the blink of an eye, Syverson had pushed her on her back before crawling up her body like a predator. Before her body could process his fingers leaving her into an orgasm denial, his eager cock was pushing into her. The pained moan that escaped her as her body twisted under his was muffled by his mouth clamping over hers. The Captain grunted as his cock struggled to push its way inside her virgin entrance despite the preparation that he had done. The girl's bottom lip pulled away from the rest of her mouth due to the way he bit down on it to withstand the overwhelming pleasure that sparked everywhere within him.  

"Your wish is my command, my darlin' sheikha." 

Syverson found himself praying for the first time to any god, deity or entity that may be listening; to freeze time right here in this very moment and never set it free again.

For he could stay like this for eternities and beyond; buried inside his dear wife and protectively enveloped in her loving arms that had never held another like she did him and never would whilst she moaned below him in a pained ecstasy, clenching and nearly knocking out as she experienced her first ever orgasm.

.

Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don't Kill My Vibe

Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids

A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.

And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.

When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.

You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.

You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.

His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.” 

“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”

So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.

“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”

Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale. 

You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”

Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him. 

He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil! 

Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.

Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.

“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.

“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.

You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.

Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.

“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.

It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.

“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.

Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.

“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.

“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.

“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.

“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.

That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time. 

1. Clark is single. 

2. Clark is literally in your lap.

3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy. 

“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.

“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.

As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”

Oh, the importance of phrasing.

This man is not going to make it easy on you.

You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.

An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor. 

“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.

“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.

“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”

Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-

One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands. 

His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.

Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black. 

You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.

“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”

Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.

He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.

Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it. 

You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear. 

You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”

“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.

Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips. 

You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.

With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.

But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.

You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time. 

Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.

Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.

“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”

You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.

Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.

Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.

“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.

“Yes!” he exclaims.

“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.

“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.

Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.

With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway. 

🍃The End🍃

A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝕮𝖑𝖆𝖞

𝙾𝚛𝚌 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎.

𝙰𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜.

𝙰𝚕𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜.

Words: ~1.1k

Relationship: August Walker x princess!female reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (non-con, bondage, manhandling, cum marking), mean August, size difference, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: I love a bad boy so much and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. If I’m going to hell, so be it.

August grinned as he walked through the horde’s camp, holding the head of his conquered foe high and roaring before tossing it to one of his clansmen and instructing them to boil it so he could add the skull to his collection. His blood was still up from the battle, and there was only one thing on his mind. He took a mug of grog from someone before throwing aside the flap to his tent and striding inside.

“Little princess!” August threw his head back and howled with laughter when you flailed against your bindings as soon as you saw him, taking a swig of grog before setting the tankard down and starting to remove his leathers. “Did you miss me, little one?”

“Fuck you!” You spat at him when he reached out to demeaningly pat your cheek.

“That’s rude language from such a pretty princess,” This time he slapped you, licking his tusks lasciviously when you gasped and shuddered. “I’m assuming this means you’re still rejecting my proposal.”

“Of course I’m rejecting it!” You thrashed even more, determined to get free from your bindings even though you had no luck in your attempts during the past few weeks of your captivity. “I’ll never be the mate of a filthy, murdering orc bastard!”

“Tsk, how disappointing,” the way you were writhing and squirming against your bindings was making him hard, as it always did, and it only got better when you screamed furiously as he began to undo his breeches. “It’s not as though you have many options, princess. I just killed another one of those suitors of yours who thought he could rescue you. His skull is going to look rather fine hanging around my neck with those of the other failures.”

That made your already fraught emotions sink even lower, but you were determined not to let him see you cry. There were now four different prince’s and their armies who had tried to take you back from the horde after they had pillaged your family’s kingdom. Every single one of them was dead, along with their armies, and you didn’t know how many more would make the attempt now that so many had been killed. A sense of dread started to settle over you at that thought, but you refused to be defeated. So you just continued to struggle against the ropes that bound you, glaring at him and ignoring the way your eyes stung with unshed tears.

“I fucking hate you,” you kept your eyes fixed on his face while he pulled out his massive cock and started to stroke it over your restrained body. “You’re disgusting and I’ll never be yours.”

“Your stubbornness only makes the fact that you’ll eventually break all the more delicious,” August snorted when you jerked away from him as he gave your head a condescending pat, slapping you instead as his fist kept moving over his cock. “You have no other choice, princess. I’m going to have you no matter what, it will go easier for you if you submit willingly.”

You just snarled at him, tired of telling him to fuck himself and deciding to just try to ignore him instead. It was difficult, though, especially when he gripped your face and forced you to watch as he stroked his cock over your squirming body. The worst thing was that you were getting wet as you kept struggling, and he could tell, a wicked grin spreading across his face when his precum started to drip on your already soiled gown.

August just grunted with annoyance when you pouted and closed your eyes, rolling his own before taking his hand off your face so he could yank at the ropes binding you until they were flung over one of the tent beams so you were suspended in midair.

“Stop, what are you doing?!” You shrieked when he shredded your gown so it fell off you in tatters and left you naked as you dangled in front of him. “You bastard! Put me down!”

“Always fucking complaining. You’re lucky I don’t decide to shut you up by skullfucking you, princess,” he chuckled when that made you finally fall silent as your eyes lit up with terror. “Don’t look so scared, like you don’t enjoy everything I do to you. Remember how messy you got when I broke you in?”

“Shut up… stop it!” You thrashed wildly when he shot his thick cum all over your stomach and thighs, screaming when he grabbed one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder so you were spread wide open for him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

He ignored you, smearing his fingers through the thick mess he’d left all over before reaching between your legs so he could rub his seed all over your swollen pussy. His first smack caught you completely off guard, making you wail when his hand cracked against your quivering folds so hard you almost blacked out. But then he leaned down and kissed you and you were brought back to consciousness against your will, gagging at the taste of grog on his tongue while his hand started slapping your cunt over and over again.

His treatment was brutal, it always was, but still your body responded to him. You cried and choked on his tongue as his fingers struck your pussy at a brutal pace, hating that each time he smacked your sensitive flesh you gushed juices all over his hand and trembled from barely controlling your climax. You held out longer than you would have thought you’d be able to, but after twenty minutes there was nothing you could do. August grinned and spat into your mouth when you sobbed as you squirted everywhere, rubbing your raw and sore folds viciously while you spasmed through your climax. As soon as you were done he released his hold on the ropes and let you drop to the floor, laying on his bed of furs and picking up his tankard of grog again as he watched you whimper and squirm.

“When are you gonna admit how much you enjoy this shit, princess?” August nudged you with his foot to turn you over and chuckled when you whined. “If you can handle this you should be able to actually survive carrying my baby. Of course you will be much more comfortable if you’re not bound and restricted during your pregnancy. So why don’t you take the night to think about how much better your life will be if you actually accept a role as my mate instead of just a brood mare.”

You sobbed when he rose to his feet and pulled his breeches back on, leaving you alone in his tent to consider just how miserable you wanted your future to be.

[witchywithwhiskey]

the princess and the villain

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

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

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

word count: 1.7k

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

For you, it was a night like any other. 

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

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

For him, it was the night everything changed.

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

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

You looked like a princess.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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