#moondjarin

[drewharrisonwriter]

Between Rain and Firelight (2014)

Here's a weird plot that swirled in my head back in 2014.

Summary: In the aftermath of a fateful night, two troubled individuals grapple with the weight of their actions and the consequences they must face.

You can find my other original works and fan fictions on this masterlist.

The both of them sat silently on the bed. Only the sound of the rain outside could be heard until he lit a cigarette as she sat beside him, terrified and trembling.

He brushed his hair away from his eyes and looked at her calmly; he too was troubled but not as much as she was; perhaps the cigarette helped him calm down, but who knows for sure? Maybe he's used to being in such a situation, considering his history with women like her.

"What are we supposed to tell them?" She finally spoke.

He took a deep breath and moved further back into the bed to lean on the headboard.

"Nothing. I don't think we need to tell anybody about this; I mean, we could take care of it ourselves." He answered.

"I am not so sure about your plan. It's too risky. I might get into a lot more trouble." She murmured as he stared blankly at the wall trying to think of another way out.

"Well, it's either that or carry the burden forever." He blurted out, which made her glance at him sharply. She knew it was a mistake, she knew that this would happen, she knew exactly what the outcome would be, yet she still agreed to do it. Now here she is, in the same room where they had done it thinking of a way out of the mess they have made.

"But don't you think it's better if we give it a chance? I mean, who are we to play God anyway?"

"Listen," he said as he moved closer to her. "I told you from the very start that I don't want this kind of responsibility—"

"I am not giving you a responsibility!" She said louder than she had intended to. "I just wanted to let you know… and I just need your help for now. I need a little support. When this is all over, you don't have to worry about a thing. I can handle it." He reached for her hand and pulled her close for a hug.

"But that would ruin your career, perhaps even your entire life, if you won't get rid of it now." He whispered to her, but she shook her head as she pulled away from him.

"Don't talk about it as if it's not there. It's breathing; it can hear you."

"Let it hear me! Then maybe it would just get rid of itself!"

She stood up and walked away from the bed, away from him. She stood by the window, watching the rain and the empty street.

"We've talked about this before." She said tearfully. He sighed and lit another cigar before he stood up and hugged her from behind.

"It would be alright; you just have to trust me on this one. Okay? Everything will be just fine; we'll just tell your folks that you're going on a road trip with the gang for a couple of days, and they will never know what happened." He said reassuringly. She turned to face him, looking him deep in the eyes.

"Will you promise not to leave until it's all over?" She asked him, and he smiled warmly at her.

"Even when it's all over, I'll stay."

And with that, they hugged, but their brief moment of joy was interrupted by a soft movement from under the bed. They both walked toward it and pulled out a huge black bag. He opened it, revealing the head of a middle-aged man struggling to speak through the duct tape that covered his mouth.

"I'm sorry, boss, but you deserve this." She said coldly and dangerously as she pulled a knife from beneath the blanket. The blade caught the light, and without another word, she drove the knife straight into the man's chest.

He came in to back her up by smashing a lamp on his head, and just as she thought the deed was done, he stood up and pulled something out of the bedside drawer. It was a gun with a silencer, and before she knew it, the man's struggling stopped as blood splattered on the floor.

"Now, it's gone. Let's clean up, grab the money and jewels in the safe and leave before it gets dark." He said, and a few moments later, they were burning the dead man inside the giant fireplace in the living room while they cleaned up the blood-splattered bedroom.

The rain has stopped, and they left the house with the fireplace still roaring wildly as the cadaver succumbs to the flames.

[drewharrisonwriter]

The End

Here's another original story.

I wrote this in 2013.

This was inspired by something that happened to me nearly a decade ago now. But since this was told from a man's perspective, I consider this as fiction, LOL!

You can find my other original works and fan fictions on this masterlist.

Pedro Pascal GIF for my deluluness.

No one could tell the story leading to how it all ended; not even I, who had been so deeply in love with you then, know what changed your mind.

As far as I know, we understood that whatever we were, we'd still be together; even if the universe did not want us to, we would still hold each other's hand and fight for whatever kind of love we had. But like a child in a haze in class, all I heard was the bell signaling the end of the day, clueless of what had previously happened before it had ended.

Unprepared for what reality has to offer.

I'm not the kind who gives a lecture or vomits thoughts on love as if everything revolves around it, no.

You were a believer of true love, and I-well, I was just fascinated by the thought of it. You believe in love though you try so hard to conceal it; you made me believe that true love exists without you knowing it, bringing me down to my knees, turning me into its salvation.

And with you, for a moment, I have seen and been into paradise, and I like how it feels and tastes.

Now I sit here, recalling the last time I held your hand, the last time I kissed your lips, and the last time we made love… It was a Saturday, and we walked around town hand in hand with stupid smiles on our faces.

I remember how the cold October wind lightly blew your hair as you pulled it out of a tight bun, how your hair smelled like lavender, and how you lightly squint when you're sleepy.

Right then and there, I knew I wanted to keep you for good, especially when you allowed me to bask in your thoughts of me and us. I must admit that I have finally thought of settling down, and I want to settle down with you.

For the first time in my life, I wanted to do things right with a woman; I was ready to let the other go as you had left your previous lover the morning after we made love for the first time.

You were magnificent in my eyes. I adored you, and that is something I do not do.

Adore someone…anyone.

I remember the sound of your laugh, the look of genuine joy on your face whenever you laugh, and how sadness and tears could turn you into someone different. You would not sob, the tears would just fall, and your beautiful eyes that once gleamed in joy will be suddenly filled with pain.

Such a look of yours made me want to wrap my arms around you, soothe and kiss you. I have seen you in your best days, and I have seen you in your worse, yet I still feel the same, even stronger, if I may say.

I love you.

I love every bit of you and everything about you. I wish I could tell you that right now, but it's too late.

I'm too late.

Now I wonder if I had told you earlier, would it be me holding those hands, and would I be the one you would wait to come home every day?

I chuckled as these could have been's crossed my mind.

For you, like my music, came into my life and touched my heart like nothing else in this world could ever do or make me feel.

All is fair in love, even the agony it brings, but that is something you choose not to believe and understand.

As I sit here, I look at you from a distance.

I remember that this is exactly how it was when I saw you for the first time. I find it ironically funny and painful at the same time that you left me the exact way you came into my life.

[drewharrisonwriter]

When Humanity Fell (2017)

Hello, there! I've been thinking about it and decided that I want to share with you all some original work here in Tumblr. LOL I've written this series of stories back in 2017.

This is series of mini-stories which tells the tale of where some people were at the beginning of mankind's decline. To be honest, I'm not even sure if it's done or if I want to write something bigger, much more solid story based off this.

Let me know your thoughts or if you have any scenario requests that you think I should add here. ^_^

You can find my other original works and fan fictions on this masterlist.

Cradle

She looked at the new bassinet in the middle of the room, her eyes red and teary from grief and pain. She stood by the door, clutching the doorpost, cradling her lower stomach, wincing in pain. 

Slowly, she staggered towards the quaint nursery, collapsing halfway through. She managed to lay on her back and looked at what used to be her husband dragging himself towards her with his gray eyes that once were blue.

Slowly, he dragged himself into the nursery, absentmindedly groaning. Her heart beat loudly as he was closing in and her contraction closer; she finally let out a long, painful howl, and the groaning was drowned by the screeching of a child. 

Her vision grew dim as, what used to be, her husband stumbled down to her feet and buried his head into their newborn child.

Elevators

His phone blinked, signaling a new text message. 

He glanced at it and sighed when he saw her name and an excerpt of her message on his screen. He reached for the phone and read the message, rolling his eyes as he finished and placed it back on the table. 

Clearly, divorce is the only answer to all his problems. His wife of seven years has probably gone insane telling him that their neighbors had ripped each other's faces off. He shrugged and looked at the wall clock in front of him.

5:45, it says. 

He stood up and walked towards the door, discovering he was alone as he opened it. He stood there for a few seconds and finally remembered that the rest of his team was sent home early due to some flu... or something. 

His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to think of the exact reason but gave up almost immediately. He must be really hard at work that day. He closed his office door behind him and walked towards the elevator; a few seconds later, it opened, and he stepped in.

As the elevator traveled down to the basement parking of the building, the lights flickered, but not once did it bother him. He was swamped with ideas on breaking the news to his wife that he had decided for them to divorce. 

The elevator bell rang, signaling that he had reached the basement parking; he stepped out and walked towards his car; halfway through, realizing he forgot his laptop, he cursed and walked back to the elevators when suddenly a car alarm broke off in the distance, realizing it was his he ran close enough to turn it off, thinking that it was another stray cat. 

When he returned to the elevators, he was greeted by the disgusting scene of a woman disemboweling a man inside.

His heart pounded loudly; he swore anyone near him (had there any apart from the two in front of him) could hear it. He stumbled, bolted to his car faster than he had ever run in years, and got inside, locking all doors as he did.

He pulled out of the parking area only to find that the streets were crowded and with practically the same scene he had just witnessed.

School Bus

The sun was up so high, and the temperature inside the school bus was beginning to warm up. The air conditioner, already on its highest setting, didn't deliver as it should. It was noon, and her class was stuck in a traffic jam.

'Great! Way to kick off my first class field trip.' She thought to herself as the honking of pissed-off drivers reverberated through the thick glass windows of the school bus. She stood up, took a deep breath, positioned herself in the center of the aisle, and smiled at the second graders, who were relatively well-behaved despite the situation.

She reassured them that they'd get plenty of time to look at the animals at the zoo once they got past this horrendous traffic jam. But her plan of outdoor learning was soon cut short when a loud thud startled her and the rest of the class. 

The driver gasped in horror, and the bus was suddenly filled with the terrified screams of the students. She turned her back to see what the commotion was about, and there it was. Just outside the bus doors was a woman in a business suit, blonde and pretty but with hazy gray eyes, trying to chomp on them if only she could reach them.

One of the students shrieked, pointing at the distance. The teacher looked at where the student was pointing and saw a large horde of people with the same empty expression on their faces and gray unblinking eyes, gnawing aimlessly into the air, staggering through the traffic jam.

Preschool

She stomped on the pathway toward the preschool and threw the door open. She was pissed. It had been way past her brother's dismissal time, but her father still hadn't picked him up from school for whatever reason. She turned the knob of the boy's classroom and found it deserted; she was just about to close it when she heard a sound inside the classroom.

She went in and walked towards the closet at the far end of the room; unsure of what was in it, she hesitated until she heard a muffled sneeze coming from inside. 

She opened it and was surprised to see her little brother trembling inside the closet, his eyes red from crying; she opened her mouth to say something, but the child put a quivering finger up to his lip and hushed her.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and in came the assistant teacher, disheveled and dragging herself into the room, groaning, reaching out for them-about to attack them.

Concert

People were screaming.

The bass was thumping loudly, the drum beats heavy, and the delicate riffs of the guitar reverberated throughout the stadium. Then came the guitar solo, and everyone in that dome went ballistic.

Two girls swimming through what seemed to be an ocean of grinding bodies watched in awe as the vocalist went back up on stage and continued singing their last song. But he sounded different than he did before the set break. 

He sounded terrible, practically out of tune, forgetting the words, but the crowd did not seem to mind.

The vocalist turned his head away from the microphone to cough, and he coughed so hard that blood splattered on the stage and collapsed. The entire crowd yelled even more, thinking it was all part of the act, until the bassist dropped his instrument and ran over to the vocalist. The rest of the band stopped playing all at once and called for help.

The two girls in the front row exchanged looks and hurriedly made their way out of the crowd and into the exit doors.

"Call them, now!" The blonde instructed the brunette as they ran farther from the stage.

The stadium faded into silence, then resurfaced into murmurs when the vocalist suddenly sat up straight and looked at the bassist. His eyes turned gray and empty, and blood was still dripping from his mouth when he sunk his teeth into the bassist's face ripping the skin off. The bassist screamed in agony, and the rest of the band and crew tried to hold back the vocalist, but it was already too late.

He has already jumped off the stage and into the crowd.

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor

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

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC A/N, Warnings: 18+, Talk of artificial insemination, peeing in a cup, sperm, and more. LOL I wrote this in an hour, IDK where I pulled this from. Not beta-ed. Also, I'm pretty sure this doesn't make so much sense in terms of plot, and being realistic. But come on, let this delulu queen live her life. You're welcome to join. Summary: You ask (beg) your best friend, Henry to donate--sperm.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

“Hank, pleaaaase…” You pleaded, dragging the last word. Henry laughed at your frustration but still could not wrap his head around what you’re asking of him.

“You’re going insane.” He jokes, causing you to drop your back on the carpet with a soft thud, covering your face with your palms as you landed.

“It’s just like peeing in a cup.” Your reply came out muffled. Henry just snorted and tried his best to stifle a laugh.

Nearly 18 years of friendship and here you are, seemingly at the end of your rope, asking your best friend to father the child you so ache for and he laughs at your ridiculous solution, telling you he’s not going to be responsible for a “turkey baster baby”.

“I don’t like peeing in a cup. Besides, why go the turkey baster way when you can go… au naturelle?”

“You know exactly why…” You said, sitting up, and gathering the profiles of sperm donors from the (sperm) bank. You and Henry had been going through each profile over the past few hours, laughing and making faces at the notes.

“And I thought Tinder was bad.” He commented earlier.

Henry got up and took the bottles of beer on the coffee table and walked back to the kitchen to open new ones.

“Tell me why won’t you do it?” You asked him, eyes round and glazed with tears that are threatening to fall any second.

He hates seeing you like this.

He sighed and admitted, “If I were to have any children of my own, I’d rather have them borne out of love and not out of… desperation after a really bad break up.”

“But I’m not asking you to be… a father. Just a donor.” You countered.

"Darling, please. Reaaally think about what you're asking of me."

"I have! I wouldn't be asking you if I haven't. Come on, Hank..."

"Right, not more than an hour after dropping sperm bank Tinder and you've thought this through." He said sarcastically and you pouted.

"Well, think about it, too!" You asked of him. "It's the ideal situation."

"How? Tell me exactly why it's so ideal." He said, running a hand through his face and resting his chin on his palm as he waited for your brilliant idea.

"Well, first of all, we love each other. So the child won't be borne not out of love." You began, mocking his accent and his statement from earlier. He snickered and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Jesus," He muttered.

"Plus, I won't ask you for anything, Hank. No child support, no emotional support. You don't have to see them. You're not even going to be on the birth certificate."

Henry winced at each of your points. "Darling, you know so well that I'm always your emotional support. And d'you really think I can go around just being Uncle Hank?” He replied with an eye roll as he took a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, how hard could that be?" You exclaimed.

"Very." He said sternly, looking you straight in the eye.

"Y/N." He began. "You know so well I won't be able to sit here with you holding a child knowing it's mine and not be involved in all ways."

“God, you’re too emotional.” You rolled your eyes at his response as you drank from your beer bottle.

“I am! And I’m sorry, darling. I can’t just give away my children. They’re not the meals you make for me every week.”

You laughed at that. "So you admit it, you don't like the meals I prep for you?"

"That's beside the point."

You'll get back to that later. You sighed out loud as you both drank.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you desperately want this?”

That ought to get you thinking hard.

You sighed and asked yourself the same thing, reflecting on what started this vision of yourself with a child, and what turned it to longing and aching, then desperation.

Growing up without present parents, you basically become an extended Cavill sibling. The sister they never had, or as the youngest Cavill, Charlie, would like to joke, the no-choice sister. That family took you in like their own kin, having you over for dinner almost every evening, and spending weekends and vacations with them.

It's not that you're not well off, financially. Your parents were just really successful actors who don't pay you much any attention but showers you with plenty of lavish gifts and an American Express Black card. Which, Henry's mother found really heartbreaking and his father pitied you on.

You were 15 when you met Henry. He was already a budding actor with a couple of productions and a movie or two in his portfolio. You were a bright and young singer-songwriter from Italy, about to break it into the English-language audience with a catchy single that Henry happened to star in the music video of.

It was easy falling into a friendship with Henry. He was kind, funny, a little nerdy, but he's also such a gentleman, and treats you and talks to you like an equal despite the five-year age gap.

It didn't take long before you met his family when he invited to his birthday party. You didn't know exactly how the events played out that day, but somehow, at the end of it all, you walked out of their home being a part of it.

You got along so well with his brothers, you and his mother already sharing secrets. You figured she was excited to have a girl in the house as none of her children would bring their girlfriends for them to meet. His father was so easy to please, a couple of jokes here and a few football arguments there, and you won his heart. Not like you were even trying, but you were glad that you got along with all of them.

Henry drove you home that night and when he parked in your empty driveway, he jumped out to open the door for you. You cried in the passenger seat with the door open and he stood there, leaning on the doorframe as you confessed to him your jealousy and longing for that kind of family.

He pulled you in and wrapped you in a tight hug beneath the street lamp.

"Hank, you know so well there is nothing I want more in life at this moment than to have a family."

"I don't get it, Y/N." He said quietly, "You're definitely the smartest person I know. You're a literal genius..." He thought of your first few conversations on the set of your first English-language music video, and learning that not only you spoke several languages fluently, but you are also about to start university at such an early age. It impressed him so much.

"You've accomplished so much in your career, you're still young, there are so many things you can do with your life, why do you go back to this?" He asked and you just shrugged.

"I feel incomplete. What can I say? A dream is a dream."

"Gerry was a dream, too." He said and you looked at him surprised at bringing up your ex fiancé.

He was indeed a dream. You met Gerry at an evening talk show as a fellow guest. He didn't hide the fact that he was so enamored by you and that he's such a big fan of your music. You, being a fan of him, too, was just so happy to hear him say all that in person.

It was an instant connection, and it didn't take long for you and Gerry to start a long, and at the time, seemingly, lasting and perfect relationship.

"Sorry." He muttered. "But it makes me wonder, you never talked about it, just casually said that things didn't work out. Knowing you, things don't just not work out like that."

And he's right, you know he's right.

Gerry loves you a lot. You love him, too. But for all the years you've been together with the high-profile action star, the talk of kids almost never came up, at least the serious talk about kids. Until you brought it up soon after he proposed, and he confessed that he had a vasectomy shortly before you met.

You were not mad. You understood, vasectomies are reversible. But Gerry didn't want to have it reversed, ever. He admitted that the reason he got it in the first place was to not accidentally have kids as he fully intended to be childless.

You understood that, too. But it broke your heart.

Regardless, you had a clean break up, but never felt the need to tell people, even your friends or family as to why. Just that things didn't work out.

"Gerry didn't want to start a family." You told Henry.

"What?" He asked, surprised. His brows furrowed and his mouth hung slightly open at your revelation. You just nodded.

"I don't understand, you were to be married." You just nodded again, and took a sip of your beer. You told him the truth about Gerry, and Henry felt his heart breaking for you.

Henry reached for your hand from across the coffee table, enveloping your tiny hands in his big ones.

"And that's a deal breaker for you." He said softly, coming to the realization.

"Yeah." You replied. "So... there you go."

"But you know what comes after the last one, right?"

"What?"

"The next one." He joked, trying to make the air in the room lighter. He smiled at his success when you snickered.

"I'm tired, Hank. Tired of getting to know new people. I've been with Gerry for four years, and before that... well you know." It was Henry's turn to snicker.

He knows so well. All the heartbreaks, disappointments, even the rebounds, met most of them. He was always there at your highest of highs, and always down with you when things didn't work out.

"I get that." He finally answered, thinking about his own strings of ex girlfriends, and an ex-fiancé. At one point, you both feel very proud of the situation you found yourselves in, both engaged to beautiful people at the same time.

You even toasted to it last New Year's eve, not knowing that both promises of a lifetime of love would fall apart in a matter of months. He, too, wanted what you wanted. A family of his own, being the only one amongst his brothers to be single and childless.

He thought he might have had that with his ex fiance. Telling him she was pregnant when she caught a whiff of him about to break things off. He was caught off guard when she told him and he didn't even waste a moment to put a ring on her finger, falling for her lies.

Maybe it was not so bad, making your dream come true. You can always discuss co-parenting, he thought and he's sure you'd allow it.

He pondered on it some more.

Henry rested his head on the cool glass top of the coffee table, his hand never left yours. He let out a breath, fogging the glass beneath him as he gently squeezed your hand.

He shut his eyes tight, and muttered to himself, "Please don't make me regret this."

"What?" You asked, not quite hearing what he said.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll do it. I'll--be your turkey baster baby's donor."

With that you burst out crying and he stood up, took your hand and guided you to his arms. He wrapped you up in that big, warm hug, that you always find comfort in.

"Set an appointment in the morning, darling." He whispered and you cried some more and muttered a yes, thank you.

18 years of friendship with Henry Cavill, and this is where you find yourself: at a crossroads that neither of you could have predicted.

The weight of his decision settled between you like a tangible presence, and as you hugged each other tightly, you knew that this was a turning point in your relationship, an uncharted territory.

Read next part: Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor Part 4 (Final)

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

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

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

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Henry knew. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you, Hank," you whispered.

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

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@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetandgentlecreature @kingliam2019 @leaveitbythewave @mrsevans90 @evansabove1981 @bascmve01 @shellyshellshell @iamsana @foxyjwls007 @one-sweet-gubler @henryownsme @angelcavill66

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor Part 2

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

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, follow up to Donor. English is not my first language. There's drinking, breakups, failed IUIs and more. Just an overall adult-themed content. But no smut...YET! (BWAHAHA) As usual, not beta'ed, and plot points are perhaps shaky and a bit far from reality, but hey! It's called fiction for a reason. LOL Excuse my deluluness, you're welcome to join.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You said, a tear escaped from the corner of your eye, slipping down your cheeks which you immediately wiped with the back of your hand.

Henry pulled you in on a side hug, letting out a slow sigh, closing his eyes as he planted a kiss on your temple.

Five negative pregnancy tests sit on your bathroom counter. 

Five more to add to the stash of tests that you somehow decided you wanted to keep in a box under the counter. Just in case…of what? You're not even sure yourself.

This was your third try over the past year. Three rounds of IUI and a box full to the brim of negative pregnancy tests lay heavy on your heart and mind.

For all the things you've accomplished all your life, this is becoming the most challenging. You already feel like a failure.

"There's always a next time, darling." Henry comforted you, gently rubbing the small of your back. You just sobbed, soaking his shirt with your tears.

"I don't know. I'm so sorry for dragging you into this, Hank." He hushed you gently and led you out to your living room.

You both settled on the couch, where you snuggled to Henry, feet tucked under you, as you continued to sob and he just held you against his broad chest.

"I just don't get it, why is it so hard? I'm literally biologically made for this."

"Well, just because it didn't happen now doesn't mean it won't. It's only been three tries." He cooed.

"Three tries over the span of 8 months, Hank. I took a really long break, I gave up touring for this. You…took time for this, too."

“You do realize that you can’t go on tour when you’re pregnant, right?” He replied and you just let out a loud sigh. 

“But I’m not. I could be touring instead, you could be out on a date with someone you like.” He snorted. 

“Well, first of all. I love you, you know that. And darling, you can’t be in two places at once. These things take time. Why so hard on yourself?”

You honestly feel like your brain is so fried and your body so tired, and bloated. 

You feel like shit. 

The tests may tell you there’s no baby in there, but boy do you look pregnant from the bloatedness, thanks to the fertility medications that have proven themselves useless so far and it’s becoming a tabloid talk recently. 

You can’t read another pregnancy speculation about yourself.

Not when you know it’s not happening at all. Plus, there’s a huge chance of dragging Henry’s name into it, which you’re doing your best to prevent from happening. Not going out in public with him where you know you could be snapped. You haven’t told anyone about your little secret, not even his family. 

“I’m taking a break from this then.” You said softly, after a long pause. Henry looked at you, surprised to hear the words come out of you. He just nodded in response, and pulled you in closer. 

—-

Henry pulled up your driveway and turned down the radio, opening the passenger side of the door to let you in. You pulled the door open and got in, giving Henry light air kisses on each cheek. 

“Look at you!” You leaned back to take him in, and whistled. He cocked his head in laughter with a hand across his chest, like it was about to burst. 

It’s been six months since the last time you saw each other; you stopped trying and went back to touring for a bit, and he went on to start filming a movie and doing press junkets here and there. 

It had been a busy couple of months and it made Henry think of the what ifs. Glad that you both don’t have to think of a child in the middle of all the things going on in your lives recently, but sad that you don’t get to hold your dream in your arms. 

You both have talked about it, co-parenting. You were surprisingly alright with it, “Better have both parents if you can, right?” You had said, but were clear that you won’t be asking him for anything, still offering to not have him on the birth certificate or forcing a set schedule on him to have the child over, which honestly broke his heart. 

You’re always giving him an out, always thinking of him, his career, his family. 

He wanted to give the child his last name, he wanted to take care of them on his times off or even bring them to set on his days with them, but he didn’t tell you that. In fact, there are so many things that Henry held back as he didn’t want to take this away from you, he knows how important this is to you. 

He’d convinced himself that he’d be content with whatever you give him. He just wants you to have your dream and be happy. He can be happy with that, too. 

“So, how’s life on the road?” He asked as you snapped your seatbelt on and he began to drive. 

“Good, the usual.” You replied casually. “And how are you, Superman? A little birdie told me you’re seeing someone.” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully at him, and he just side-eyed you with a cocked brow. 

“Let me guess, Charlie told you?” He breathed. You shook your head, opening your purse to take out a packet of Reese’s pieces. 

“No, your mom, actually.” You replied, shoving marbled chocolates into your mouth. Remembering the phone call you had with Marianne a few weeks ago, and your brain immediately goes into overdrive. Wondering if Henry would still want to donate sperm or if this budding relationship of his had changed his mind. You remember feeling hurt that you won’t be co-parenting with him… But as always, you understood. He has his life, you have yours. He’s already given you so much all those months ago when you tried. 

Your brain went into a hundred different scenarios all at once during that phone call, you wondered how you ever got through it. 

“Hey!” He exclaimed when he heard you ripping the packet and started chewing. “No eating in the car!” 

“Jesus, so strict! It’s just Reese’s pieces, it’s not gonna stink up the damned car. Calm down! Here, have some...” You held your hand out next to his mouth and he reluctantly ate the chocolates. 

“Damn, that’s good.” He muttered. 

“So, who’s the girl?” You pressed on, still chewing, and he just chuckled, shaking his head. 

“No one.” He said, holding his palm out and you poured more Reese’s in them. “It didn’t work out.” He added before shoving the chocolate into his mouth. 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You replied dryly. 

“Enough about me.” He said, mouth still full with chocolates. “Excited for tonight?” 

“Oh absolutely. Haven’t seen you and the gang in a long time.” He chuckled at the way you referred to his brothers and some of your group of friends’ as ‘the gang’. 

—

It was Charlie’s birthday and drinks were overflowing, the music was loud, reverberating throughout the exclusive club one of your common friends owns. You were lost on the dance floor, a drink in hand swaying–hoping your legs won’t give out from both exhaustion, fun and alcohol all mixed together like the cocktail in your hand. 

Your friend, Emilia, stood on her toes lightly to whisper something in your ear. You could not hear exactly what she was saying, but she was gesturing with her thumb to the guy behind her holding her other hand, with a huge smile plastered on his face. You just nodded and they left. 

You saw Charlie and Simon going back to the dancefloor with a bottle of champagne on each hand, showering people with the bubbly treat. You laughed as both men refilled the now empty glass in your hand until it overflowed and your shoes were soaking wet. 

Charlie chugged down a bottle and raised it with a loud “Whoo!” when he finished it in one go. You laughed harder and downed your own drink in one go, too. Simon refills it soon as you’re done. 

You’re definitely drunk now. 

The two men went deeper into the dance floor and shared the bubbly drinks with more of the guests dancing. Left alone now with a half-empty glass, you started or more like swayed your way back to the bar, almost stumbling over a bar stool when you suddenly felt a hand slip on your waist, pulling you up to your seat, you turned halfway to see who it was and surprised to see Henry beaming down on you, hand still splayed across your stomach. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He whispered next to your ear, lightly nuzzling his nose at your earlobe. You felt a shiver run down your spine. 

He seemed to be drunk, too. You thought. Except he wasn’t; Henry tried his best to stick to just a pint, knowing that he’d have to drive later that night. But there was something about you, about the situation, about the dress you’re wearing that made him a little bolder than usual. He took his hands off you, afraid of ruining the moment. 

You smiled and nodded in reply, “Yeah. I’m not drinking anymore. I’m too old for this.” You laughed as he settled in the seat next to you. You flagged the bartender and ordered yourself a bottle of water.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You said after downing half of the bottle. “I’m too old for this.” You repeated.

“Would rather stay home with the kids, honey?” He joked and you laughed. 

“Yeah, better call the sitter cause I’m going home now to tuck them in myself.” You joked back with a wide smile as you got off your seat. He threw his head back laughing. 

“No, seriously, Hank. I’m going home.” You told him and he nodded. 

“Let me take you home.” You shook your head ‘no’. 

“It’s fine, Hank. I’m calling an Uber.” 

“There are paps outside, I’m driving you myself.” You snickered at his argument. 

“What difference would it make? Paps seeing us together would only make it worse.” He knew you were right, but he can’t let you go home alone like this. 

But Henry was persistent. He took your hand and led you to a back exit that leads straight to the parking lot, not long after you were seated at the passenger seat of his car as you watched London go by in blur through the window. 

“You okay?” He asked, you’ve be been quiet for far too long.

“Mmhmm…” 

“What’s going on in there?” He asked, tapping a finger on your temple and you snickered, shaking your head. 

“Nothing…I think I’m just tired.” Lie. You wanted to ask him if he’s dating again after the last one Marianne told you about. You wanted to ask him if he’d still want to donate, and co-parent, and draw dreams together in the air like you did a few months ago. But you’ve thought of this over and over the past few weeks, it wouldn’t be right anymore. 

You wondered why you never thought of possible scenarios before you even started with your IUI’s.

Henry let out a slow breath, he knew exactly what’s in your head. He knew that you weren’t over the disappointment and the heartbreak from the last time your IUI failed. He knows so well, and this is exactly what he was waiting for, an opportunity to open it up.

“When’s your next time off?” He asked and you looked up at him slightly surprised.

“I have one last string of shows in London next weekend and after that I’m a free man.” You replied. “Why? Do I need to babysit Kal again?” You joked. 

He laughed, shaking his head, his curls bouncing on the side of his head. His dimples were so deep and the light that shone through the windshield from the car in front of you casted a beautiful shadow against his sharp features. 

Wow, you are definitely drunk. 

“What are you looking at?” He asked when he felt your eyes on him; He cocked an eyebrow at your direction, but you only shook your head in response. Willing yourself to stop ogling him.

Nearly 20 years of friendship, you asked yourself, why are you only realizing exactly just how handsome he is? 

You always knew he was good looking, great physique, killer smile, incredible sense of humor. But you’ve never seen him in this light nor have you ever felt a warmth pooling in your center at the mere sight of him.

What was in the drinks at Charlie’s party?

He looked at you and let out another laugh and muttered, “Jesus.” Your brows are furrowed, lips slightly parted and you look at him not with confusion, no. It’s as if you’re coming to a sudden realization about something, if only he knows what. 

He called out your name, looking at you quickly and turning his eyes back on the road, his grip on the wheels tightened a bit. Knuckles almost turning white. 

“Hmm?” You sounded like you were being taken out of a daze. He chuckled and shook his head. “You are so drunk, are you?” 

“I guess.” You murmured, blinking a few times before looking down at your hands, playing with the hem of your skirt. 

“May I ask you something?” 

“Go on.” 

“Would you…” He started but he paused. “Would you want to try again?” 

That startled you. After the last time you tried and failed, and then him dating again, you didn’t think he’d still want to donate. And if you’re being a hundred percent honest with yourself, you wouldn’t want to ask him anymore, not wanting to complicate his future relationships by being tied to you with a child. Despite the fact that you think he’s the perfect donor, in all aspects, including co-parenting. 

“I don’t know, Hank. I mean, of course I wanted to try again but…” You swallowed, man, this is hard but it’s for the best, you thought. “But you don’t have to donate anymore.” 

Read Part 3

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor Part 3

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

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, this is part 3 of Donor. English is not my first language. Smut finally ensues! BAHAHAHA THIS IS IT FRENNIES. But please do forgive me if it's not as spicy, this is my first time writing smut in years. It's somehow still a slowburn LMAO Further warnings include: Henry and his breeding kink, first time doing it together (lol), talks of pregnancy and sticky icky future talk.

Special thanks to @summersong69 for all of your help in improving EVERTYHING and @winter2112rose for sharing your suggestions. YOU ARE AMAZING! Thank you for beta-reading this chapter and improving my shaky and unrealistic plot points and smut scene. You guys are heaven-sent! 😭💕

And to everyone who read, liked, commented, and reblogged THANK YOU! SO GRATEFUL FOR ALL OF YOU!!! I stopped writing for years and I just began writing again a few months ago for fun, I never expected people to actually read and like this lol It was just really to express my sheer deluluness 🤣🤣🤣

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

Henry’s face shifted. His lips in a tight line. 

“Hank?” You asked, after a long stretch of silence. “You alright?” 

“Yes, I just wanted to ask.” He replied. 

Before you know it, he was pulling into your driveway. He was still unusually silent. 

“Do you want to come in for a coffee?” You offered and he nodded.

“Yes, of course.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes this time. 

—-

However many drinks you had downed at Charlie’s party, it seems that the hazy effects of alcohol that had clouded your head an hour ago have mostly worn off now that you're back home, preparing coffee for both you and Henry.

Placing a mug of coffee on the kitchen island where Henry perched on a bar stool, you briefly turned away to fetch some ice for your own drink. In that moment, he called your name, causing you to pivot back to face him.

"Are you seeing anyone?" he inquired, his hand absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze avoiding direct eye contact. His question prompted laughter from you, and you shook your head in response.

"No, not at all," you replied, a playful chuckle accompanying your words.

Acknowledging your answer with a nod, Henry took a sip from his mug. 

"Why did you ask? Are you trying to set me up with someone?" Your playful eyebrow wiggle only elicited a smirk from him, his attention still inexplicably fixed on a coaster before him, and you suddenly wonder what's so interesting about it. 

“No, I’m just… I’m wondering because you said you don’t want me to be the f–to donate anymore.” 

Oh. 

Oh.

“Well, I’ve thought about it.” you began, your form casually leaning against the kitchen island. “Since you started dating again, it made me realize that I’ve been too selfish by forcing you to donate last time and even offering for you to co-parent. That doesn’t seem fair to you or your future partner either.” 

He knew you would say something like that, and that’s what he was afraid of–you pushing him away once again. Henry, of course, deeply understands your sentiment but it pains him to know that you’re moving forward with this without him. Funny, he thought to himself, he didn’t even want to do it in the first place. You had to beg him and now, it looks like the tables are about to turn. 

You smiled warmly at him, your gaze tender as you placed your hand on top of his.

"You know what this means, right?" he asked, his smile infectious.

"What?"

"Sperm Bank Tinder." Laughter bubbled between you, the shared joke lightening the atmosphere.

"Yes, I suppose that's in my near future again," you chuckled, accompanied by a playful grimace and you groaned at the thought of going through donor profiles again.

"But you," you shifted, standing tall as you moved to take a seat beside him on a bar stool, playfully poking a finger against his chest, "You deserve a family."

His response was immediate – enveloping your finger with his hand, he pressed it over his chest where you could feel the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your touch.

"A wife, a marriage, someone to come home to…" Your voice softened, a wistful smile playing on your lips  as you briefly averted your eyes from his intense gaze. You were acutely aware of his yearning for a simple, fulfilling life.

Henry was always open about his dream of retiring in his 40s, of settling down and having a couple of children. The more the better, he used to say. Despite the glitz and glamor of the life he has made for himself over the past two decades, he wanted nothing more than to be a simple and loving family man. 

He just wasn’t a hundred percent honest with you on some other aspects of that dream. 

Finally you meet his blue eyes and notice that they’re glimmering, 

You continued, “Not just a sperm donor for your best friend to father a child you don’t get to hold as often as you want because she’s a selfish, neurotic bitch who thought having a baby with her best friend is the most brilliant and fool-proof idea ever.” 

A soft chuckle left Henry but he pressed his lips tightly, closing his eyes, and tried to even his breathing as a tear rolled down his cheek and he trembled, allowing more tears to fall. 

There was a long silence.

The hundreds of conversations Henry had with you in his head over the years all came flooding in; each scenario unfolding like scenes from a vintage film, casting a dizzying spell that left him feeling weightless, his pulse still racing despite his best efforts to compose himself.

It’s now or never. He tells himself, he has to tell you now. 

“I want all that.” he confessed, and you nodded in understanding, knowing so well that he deserves to have that life, a life that, really deep down, you wish he could spend with you. But you also know so well that diving into a relationship as deep as that with him would always have the possibility of eventually ending.

That terrifies you. 

Which made the thought of solo parenting sound really good to you in the first place and the main reason that you’re always giving Henry an out. Of all the things and people you could bear to lose in your life, the possibility of one of those being Henry is something that you deeply fear. 

You and Henry have loved each other in many ways over the years, but you know he won’t love you as more than his best friend, as more than an honorary family member. You even convinced yourself that it would be wrong and settled on being content that all you ever will be are lifelong friends. Who, at one point, have thought of co-parenting a child that will be loved and cherished no less, regardless of the unconventional methods and relationships they will be blooming from. 

You could be happy with that. 

Henry rises from his seat, his gaze fixated on you, his hand still cradling yours against his chest. His lips part, words poised on the edge of his tongue, yet they retreat as if searching for the right way to escape, and you can see his gears turning. 

He took a deep breath, and finally admitted what he wanted to tell you for years: “I want to do all of that with you… if you would let me.” 

Suddenly, you feel your fears growing stronger. You thought they’d ebb away once you heard him finally say that, but somehow it only made the ugly, gnawing fear stronger.

“Hank…”

“No, darling. Listen to me, please.” he implored, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips, though beneath it lay a current of nervous anticipation. “Because it’s going to kill me if I don’t say it out loud now…” His chuckle held a touch of vulnerability, a mask slipping to reveal the raw edges of his emotions.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. 

This was the moment you had always been wary of having with Henry, the juncture where your deep-rooted fears collided with your undeniable affection for him. You could feel your heart racing, its rhythm matching the chaotic thoughts in your head.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His blue eyes bore into yours, filled with a mixture of hope and vulnerability that you hadn't seen before. You could sense the weight of his words even before he spoke them.

"I've loved you for years, Y/N," he confessed, his voice trembling ever so slightly. 

"Not just as a friend, but as something more. And–Christ! I-I've been a coward, too afraid to risk our friendship, too afraid of what it might do to us."

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt a rush of emotions swirling within you. The truth hung in the air between you, and you realized that the fear you'd been grappling with was mirrored in his eyes. 

"I've watched you go through relationships, seen you deeply in love with other people, and it's always torn me apart," he confessed, his fingers entwined with yours, his touch growing firmer, as if seeking solace in your connection. "I've wrestled with my own heart, tried to act normal, thought of finding my own path to happiness that isn’t with you…to be content with being your friend…” he exhaled deeply.

“I’ve even convinced myself that I’m okay with just being your turkey baster baby’s donor.” he managed to interject with a playful glint. A chuckle rippled between you, but then his expression shifted, his tone turning earnest once more. “But I always keep on wanting more and more. It's become unbearable, darling. And the truth is…” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, your emotions threatening to overflow. You never imagined that he felt this way, that your connection ran so deep for him too.

"Hank, I..." you started, but he gently pulled your hand closer to his chest.

"Let me finish, please," he whispered, a trace of a smile tugging at his lips again, but his voice quivered. "I want to be that person you come home to. I want to build a life together, not just as someone who could help you out with having a child in the most ridiculous way,” He chuckled once more, and you joined in, appreciating his effort to instill a bit of levity into the conversation.

“I don’t just want to be old Uncle Hank.” He continued. “I want you, darling…I want the children you want. I want to wake up beside you every morning and hold you every night…"

“Even if it means that you and Kal will have to live with me and my cats?” You teased, a playful glint in your eyes, and you both shared a genuine laughter.

“Even if we have to live with you and your cats.” He reassured you. 

His words hung in the air, a fragile bridge between what was and what could be. You gazed into his eyes, feeling the depth of his emotions washing over you.

"But I understand if you don't feel the same way," he added, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of resignation. "I…I know that this might change everything, and I don't want to lose you, but I also want you to know..."

As he spoke, you felt the weight of your own fears, the echoes of his confession resonating within you. The prospect of losing him was a terrifying thought, but so was the idea of risking your friendship for something more.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside you. 

"Hank, you've been my rock, my confidant, and my closest friend for so long," you began, your voice trembling like his had been. "And the idea of us being together... it's something I've thought about too, something I've wanted deep down for a really long time. But I've also been so afraid, afraid of what it could mean for us… What if things didn't work out?"

He nodded with his eyes closed, trying to will his tears back. 

You looked down at your intertwined hands, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. The fear of losing him battled with the desire for something more, something that had always lingered beneath the surface of your friendship.

"You mean so much to me, Hank. And I can't imagine my life without you." He nodded in understanding, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as he listened intently.

"Of all the risks and challenges we could take in this life, don’t you think this is worth a shot?" He asked. "Darling, please… let’s try.” he continued, his voice soft but filled with conviction.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you let that thought sit some more in your head. 

"Alright..." You whispered. 

"What?"

"Alright, maybe we can try." 

For a moment, the room was filled with a shared understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the risks and rewards that lay ahead. The unspoken promise hung in the air – that you were willing to take this leap of faith together.

Henry leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender, lingering kiss. It was a promise, a concession to the emotions that had been simmering between you for years. 

As he pulled back, his gaze met yours, and you could see the genuine affection in his eyes.

"No matter where this leads us, I want you in my life, Y/N."

You nodded, your heart swelling with a mixture of emotions – hope, fear, and an overwhelming sense of connection. 

You wrapped your hands around his neck, standing up from the stool where you were sitting, nuzzling your nose on his jaw and planting a soft kiss on the side of his mouth. It might have been the alcohol making your decisions for you, or perhaps it was the tension that had been building between you two for more than a decade. But at that moment, none of it mattered. 

Henry's breath caught as your lips brushed against his skin. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a warmth that spread through his chest and down between his legs. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, before he lifted his hand to gently cup your cheek.

His touch was tender, almost tentative, as if he was afraid that this fragile moment could shatter if he wasn't careful. Your eyes locked onto his, "I've waited so long for this," he whispered, his voice husky.

“Shut up, we’ve kissed before.” You whispered back with a smile, remembering that you shared a few on-screen kisses in your music videos in the past. 

“Not like this…” He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light caress. The kiss was sweet and tentative, as if he was testing the waters before fully diving in.Very different from the ones you’ve previously shared, where he was more confident in the rehearsed way your lips crashed. 

You found yourself responding instinctively, your hand sliding up his chest and curling around his neck. The kiss deepened, becoming more intense as the pent-up emotions began to flow between you.

The kitchen around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. It was a mix of familiarity and newness, as if you were discovering a whole new side of your best friend of nearly 20 years.

Finally breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. "If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop now," he breathed, his eyes locked onto yours.

"Don’t stop. Take what you want," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Henry’s breath hitched and he bit his lip, preventing a smile from fully showing, his dimples so deep; he looked up with his eyes closed tight and exclaimed, “Thank fuck!” 

You giggled a bit and found an opportunity to plant small kisses on his throat and he groaned. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and you both knew where this was going and you allowed yourselves to succumb to it. 

Henry wasted no time in yanking the zipper off your dress from the back, slipping it off your shoulders, revealing your laced covered tits heaving heavily. He groaned at the sight of you, his grip on your waist tightened as you snapped off the lace bra from the front, fully exposing your top half to him.

He wasted no time and instantly latched onto one breast. You bite your lower lip to keep a moan from coming out, a hand steadying yourself onto his bicep and the other running through the hair at the back of his head.

He kissed his way back up, nipping lightly at your jaw and moving behind your ear which sent you moaning for more. He pulled away slowly and led you to the bedroom down the hall and gently pushed you down on the bed, settling your head on the pillows while he quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt and you shimmied yourself out of your dress and your underwear on the bed.

“Darling wait,” Henry said before he could pull his trousers down.

“What?” 

“I, uh… I didn’t bring a condom,” he admitted, his expression serious, brows furrowed, his thoughts lost in the heat of the moment.

“For fuck’s sakes, Hank.” you burst into laughter. Drawing him close, you planted a gentle kiss on his lips, your voice tender. “After the turkey baster situation, I think we’re way past worrying about not using a condom."

He joined in your laughter, eyes squeezed shut, his teeth catching his lower lip in amusement. 

“Right…” he smiled, a blush bloomed from his neck that went up and spread across his cheeks. He went on to fully remove his trousers and joined you in bed. 

“I’m clean, if that’s what you’re worried ab—“

“Oh I know… no, that’s not what—I’m clean too.” He confirmed and you nodded in reply.

His body pressed gently against yours, the thin barrier of his boxers the only separation. He leaned back down murmured against your jaw, his voice close, "Are you truly ready to start trying?" 

Meeting his gaze as you pulled back slightly, you responded, "If you are..."

“I am,” He whispered in between kisses. “Nothing I want more, darling. No matter how many times more, no matter how many children you want…” You whimpered at his statement and you saw a shift in his eyes, something darker.

The sensation of his kisses was intoxicating, prompting your legs to part instinctively as you slid his boxers down with a gentle urgency. He reached back down between you, teasingly tracing your now drenched seam. A primal groan escaped his lips, a raw expression of the arousal that surged between you.

"God," he rasped, his voice laced with need, his eyes darkened with desire. His fingers trailed down your inner thigh, grazing your slick folds, before he pulled them back, coated with your arousal. "All for me, darling?" Your heart raced as you bit your lower lip, nodding in fervent agreement.

He leaned back, his gaze searing into yours before he began to pump his thick length a few times. He then notched the blunt tip to your now soaking entrance, his eyes locked onto yours, seeking permission in the intensity of the moment. He had you pinned beneath him, knees pressed to your chest.

He eased into you slowly, taking his time, groaning deeply at the sensation. You lifted your hips slightly, your breath catching once you felt him inside you. The stretch of him filling you was just what you needed.

“Fuck, darling… so tight.” 

You moaned as he slowly inched in, your eyes rolling back in pleasure at the stretch. You were aware that he's big, you just never anticipated it was this much, nor did you think you would ever have to worry about it until now. 

Once he was buried to the hilt you knew you’d never been penetrated so deeply, his cock reaching an undiscovered place in you. He gave you a moment to get used to his size and the position he had you in. 

You arched your back and moaned loudly, no longer holding back as he bottomed out and began moving in and out of you in long, slow, delicious strokes.

You tilted your head back in response to his motions, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you basked in the feel of him. The brush of his lips against your throat was followed by a restrained groan of pleasure that echoed in the air.

"I've wanted you this entire fucking time," he breathed, his voice laced with a mixture of tenderness and desire, as he hovered over you, his lips tracing a path across your face. 

“Wanted to give you a baby…make you mine. Let the entire world know about it…” 

“I want to have your baby, Hank. Fuck a baby into me…” The weight of your words sent Henry growling and spiraling into a different realm. His grip on you intensified, he adjusted his angle. 

He looked you in the eyes and asked “Is it okay if I pick up the pace, darling?” You nodded in reply and he began jackhammering into you, eliciting a slight yelp in surprise as he hit a spot in you over and over again that made your toes curl and the coil in your lower abdomen intensify drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm with each thrust. 

“Fuck, Hank! I–I’m so close…” You whimpered, walls clamping on his thick cock as you near your release. 

“I know, darling…I got you, I got you…” He cooed. 

The sloppy sounds of him taking you belonged in a pornographic film. Years of built up tension between the two of you and the events of the evening finally came to a head when he fucked you into the mattress and all you could do was reach up and grab his neck as he utterly destroyed you for any other guy and your bed began to bang against the wall loudly. 

Both of you had dissolved into garbled praising of one another, drunk off the intensity of your coupling. You were cock drunk; there was no other way to explain it. The only thing that registered in your brain was the point at when your two bodies collided. 

"Fuck, darling... I don't know if I can last much longer." His brow furrowed and his body tense above you told you he was close. 

One of his hands reached down between you to begin rubbing your clit enthusiastically while his other gripped a fist full of your hair. 

You tipped your head back, sinking more into the pillow, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth. He didn’t hesitate to bite down on your neck as his hips thrusted up into you.

You came–hard, eyes tightly closed and lips parted in a small o; cumming and clenching around him while he continued working you through your climax; groaning at the feeling of you practically milking him. 

“Cum for me, Hank. Give me a baby...” you whimpered, your body curling in on itself as he continued thrusting into you. 

“Shit,” Henry groaned before you felt him release into you; a string of curses and praises sputtered as he did. 

Henry pressed his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath. He stayed inside you for a few more minutes, the two of you just basking in the intimacy. 

A soft smile curved his lips, "I love you," he whispered.

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

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetandgentlecreature @kingliam2019 @leaveitbythewave @mrsevans90 @evansabove1981 @bascmve01 @shellyshellshell @iamsana @foxyjwls007 @one-sweet-gubler @henryownsme

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor | Part 1.5 | Not Dad Enough

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

Oh, no. I made a drabble... I think. LOL

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

This was supposed to be just a short drabble for my fic Donor. But I guess this is too long, lol so this happened between chapters 1 and 2 and shows Henry and reader going through the first round of IUI.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

During the week of your first IUI procedure, Henry had flown back over the weekend before, having taken a break from filming his latest project for the year. The process leading up to the insemination wasn't too time-consuming; they just needed his sample, and the whole procedure could be completed within a few hours. So, you were quite surprised when he mentioned that he had taken off for the next two weeks.

"Why? Do you have plans with your family?" you asked, racking your brain to recall any upcoming birthdays or events.

He shook his head, his expression earnest. "No, not at all. I just... I want to make sure you're alright," he replied, his eyes holding a mixture of concern and determination.

You let out a small, surprised chuckle. "You really don't have to do that, you know. Besides, what could possibly go wrong after the procedure?" you teased, though a warmth spread through you at his thoughtfulness.

He chuckled softly in response. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I just want to be here, at least until you have to take the first test."

His words touched your heart, and you couldn't help but smile at his earnestness. It was in these small moments that you realized just how you lucked out on having Henry as your best friend and your future child's father.  ---

As the procedure was completed, you found yourself lying on the examination table, legs up in the air as instructed, for the next 15 minutes. Henry stood by your side, holding your hand gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Feeling okay?" he asked softly, concern etching his features as he looked down at you.

You gave him a reassuring smile, your fingers tightening around his. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just a little nervous, I guess."

Henry's grip on your hand tightened slightly, and he leaned in closer. "You don't have to be nervous. You got this," he said, his voice full of encouragement.

You nodded, grateful for his presence. "I know, it's just... What if it doesn't work? What if this whole process ends up being for nothing? I feel like I have wasted your time and...sperm." You grimaced at the last part and Henry laughed.

He sighed softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Hey, there will always be another time for a next round. We can keep trying until it works, alright? But for now, let's just focus on this moment."

Your heart swelled at his words. Despite his playful demeanor, Henry's sincerity always managed to shine through, comforting you when you needed it the most. You gave him a small smile. "You're right. Thanks for being here with me, Hank... and you know, for allowing me to drag you into this."

His answering smile was soft and reassuring. "Always, Y/N."

---

After the procedure, you both returned home.

Henry suggested watching a movie to help you relax, and you settled on "Night Hunter." Despite Henry's eye roll at your choice, he acquiesced, knowing that you were set on it and not in the mood for any debates.

The film had its share of tense moments, interspersed with lighter ones that brought occasional snickers from you. 

One particular scene caught your attention—Walter Marshall, the character played by Henry, was sitting on the kitchen floor with his on-screen daughter, attempting to have a heartfelt moment. 

You couldn't help but chuckle dryly, cringing at the dialogue and the lack of genuine paternal energy emanating from Henry's portrayal.

"Wow," you commented, your voice laced with amusement, your gaze locked on the screen.

Henry glanced at you, his brows furrowing. "What's so amusing?"

"Come on," you chuckled, nudging him playfully. "If you're trying to show off your potential co-parenting skills, this movie isn't exactly boosting your case."

"Hey!" He gave you a playful mock-glare. "You're making fun of my acting skills. How dare you?"

"Just a little," you admitted, giving him another playful nudge. 

“So mean,” he muttered, his hand moving theatrically to his chest, as if nursing a wounded heart. Sooo dramatic. You laughed. 

Your gaze remained fixed on the screen. "I mean, it's just that I'm not quite getting the 'dad vibes' from you in this scene."

Henry laughed, a genuine sound that filled the room. "Fair enough. Guess I have some work to do if I want to impress as a movie dad."

You grinned, nodding in agreement. "Definitely a bit of room for improvement."

He leaned back on the couch, arm casually draped across the backrest, his eyes still on the movie. "Well, I'll consider this valuable feedback."

"I'm glad I could contribute to your acting growth," you quipped, a playful twinkle in your eye.

"Always striving for improvement," Henry replied, a hint of laughter lingering in his voice. "But in my defense, being a movie dad is a whole different ball game."

You raised an eyebrow, your tone teasing. "Oh, I see. So, you're saying real-life co-parenting would be a breeze for you?"

Henry's lips curled into a playful smile. "Well, I'd like to think I'd have a better grasp of it, but I guess there's only one way to find out."

The two of you exchanged amused glances, the easy banter between you a testament to the comfort of your friendship. As the movie continued to play, you leaned back against the couch, feeling the warmth of Henry's presence beside you.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," you mused softly, your voice holding a touch of anticipation.

"Indeed," he agreed, his gaze briefly meeting yours before returning to the screen. And as the movie scenes unfolded, you felt yourself growing more at ease, the laughter and companionship settling any lingering nerves from the day's events.

Eventually, the familiarity of your shared space and the comfort of Henry's company began to take its toll, and you found yourself succumbing to drowsiness. Your head rested against his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping you as you closed your eyes.

He glanced down at you, a soft smile forming as he watched your peaceful expression in sleep. His heart swelled with a mix of fondness and a growing sense of longing. He carefully adjusted his position, allowing you to rest comfortably against him, his arm holding you close. As the movie continued to play in the background, he couldn't help but contemplate the possibility of a deeper connection with you, one that extended beyond the realm of co-parenting.

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

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetandgentlecreature @kingliam2019 @leaveitbythewave @mrsevans90 @evansabove1981 @bascmve01 @shellyshellshell @iamsana @foxyjwls007 @one-sweet-gubler @henryownsme